After Hours: Part 4
Title: After Hours 4
Pairing: Donghae/Kibum
Rating: R
Genre: Smut
Length: Short One-Shot
Donghae watched as Kibum flirted with the client. Watched as he skillfully brushed a hand across his lap when he pretended to laugh at a funny joke. Watched as Kibum giggled shyly and complimented the disgusting fat man for his sense of humor.
And frankly, he couldn't stand it.
He knew that Kibum was watching him as well. He knew that Kibum was playing him, manipulating him, and watching him as he bit down, clenching his fists till the white of his knuckles showed. But he continued to toy with the man.
“Kibum-ssi? Are you free tonight?”
Fuck no.
Donghae waited for Kibum to return. Swore that he would tear Kibum apart.
And when the door to the room finally clicked open, he watched as Kibum walked, no glided to the bathroom. And he felt as though he was about to explode.
Donghae burst into the bathroom that was left casually unlocked to find Kibum half-naked and sweaty in front of the mirror. Half-naked, sweaty and grinning. Grinning his sickening grin that Donghae just wanted to rip off from his face.
“How many times?”
And Kibum just smiled, staring through the mirror at the fuming Donghae.
Donghae could not take the silence, the tension, and the mocking. He reached a hand to Kibum’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh until buds of purple and blue bloomed from his white skin causing the older man to cringe in pain.
“Fuck you Kibum, I said how many times.”
But Kibum endured the aching pain and bit down on his lip to suppress his desire to just scream in agony.
“Do you need me to remind you who you belong to?”
Donghae pulled Kibum by his bruising shoulder until he slammed against Donghae’s body.
Donghae spoke to the man in the mirror. The man with his glasses askew, eyes begging for Donghae and not forgiveness. “You belong to me.”
He felt Kibum’s grin spread across his whole body, knew that Kibum was toying with him, knew that Kibum wanted this. And he was torn between completely denying Kibum the pleasure and fucking him till he was on his knees and begging for Donghae to forgive him-reminding him who he belonged to.
And he decided on the latter.
Before he knew it he had thrown Kibum into the bathtub and had pushed his head under, preventing Kibum from surfacing, his nakedness pushing against Kibum, holding him down, until the bathroom was wet from Kibum struggle to break out.
He did not care that the bathroom continued to flood with the endless flow of water, drowning their Armani suits that lay carelessly tossed on the floor. Fuck the suits. They were the cause of Donghae’s anger. The bloody formalities that they were attached to. Who cares if he was doing this to his hyung? Kibum had over stepped the line and now he had to pay.
“Hae-Please.” Kibum gasped, begging for air and for comfort. For the warmth of the once gentle Donghae.
“I am going to screw you till you cry for me. Till you remember who you are and who you belong to.”
Kibum and Donghae were uncomfortably intertwined with each other in the small bathtub, slipping in and out of each other because of the endless suds.
“Mouth.” And Donghae sat, legs open, on the edge of the bathtub, his erection wet and warm, waiting for Kibum. He grabbed the showerhead and washed it off with cold water, shuddered at the sudden rush to the tip, the cold penetrating his skin.
He grabbed Kibum’s hair and pulled him until his lips touched the tip of his erection. Growled as Kibum’s pink tongue flicked across his opening, then opened up warm an inviting, pushing his mouth in until he was completely inside Kibum.
Kibum gagged at the sudden introduction too far, then sucked placidly, keeping the pressure perfect, the warmth increasing with the blood flow. This, Donghae felt, the warmth and wet of Kibum’s mouth against the coldness of the water before made him shudder, made him come into Kibum.
“Don’t you fucking dare to drip.”
But Kibum could not hold it in, and spilled into Donghae’s lap and his own hands and knew that whatever came, it would be so painful, and unbearable, that he would have to pay for it over and over.
Afterhours:Part1
Afterhours:Part2
Afterhours:Part3
Pairing: Donghae/Kibum
Rating: R
Genre: Smut
Length: Short One-Shot
Donghae watched as Kibum flirted with the client. Watched as he skillfully brushed a hand across his lap when he pretended to laugh at a funny joke. Watched as Kibum giggled shyly and complimented the disgusting fat man for his sense of humor.
And frankly, he couldn't stand it.
He knew that Kibum was watching him as well. He knew that Kibum was playing him, manipulating him, and watching him as he bit down, clenching his fists till the white of his knuckles showed. But he continued to toy with the man.
“Kibum-ssi? Are you free tonight?”
Fuck no.
Donghae waited for Kibum to return. Swore that he would tear Kibum apart.
And when the door to the room finally clicked open, he watched as Kibum walked, no glided to the bathroom. And he felt as though he was about to explode.
Donghae burst into the bathroom that was left casually unlocked to find Kibum half-naked and sweaty in front of the mirror. Half-naked, sweaty and grinning. Grinning his sickening grin that Donghae just wanted to rip off from his face.
“How many times?”
And Kibum just smiled, staring through the mirror at the fuming Donghae.
Donghae could not take the silence, the tension, and the mocking. He reached a hand to Kibum’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh until buds of purple and blue bloomed from his white skin causing the older man to cringe in pain.
“Fuck you Kibum, I said how many times.”
But Kibum endured the aching pain and bit down on his lip to suppress his desire to just scream in agony.
“Do you need me to remind you who you belong to?”
Donghae pulled Kibum by his bruising shoulder until he slammed against Donghae’s body.
Donghae spoke to the man in the mirror. The man with his glasses askew, eyes begging for Donghae and not forgiveness. “You belong to me.”
He felt Kibum’s grin spread across his whole body, knew that Kibum was toying with him, knew that Kibum wanted this. And he was torn between completely denying Kibum the pleasure and fucking him till he was on his knees and begging for Donghae to forgive him-reminding him who he belonged to.
And he decided on the latter.
Before he knew it he had thrown Kibum into the bathtub and had pushed his head under, preventing Kibum from surfacing, his nakedness pushing against Kibum, holding him down, until the bathroom was wet from Kibum struggle to break out.
He did not care that the bathroom continued to flood with the endless flow of water, drowning their Armani suits that lay carelessly tossed on the floor. Fuck the suits. They were the cause of Donghae’s anger. The bloody formalities that they were attached to. Who cares if he was doing this to his hyung? Kibum had over stepped the line and now he had to pay.
“Hae-Please.” Kibum gasped, begging for air and for comfort. For the warmth of the once gentle Donghae.
“I am going to screw you till you cry for me. Till you remember who you are and who you belong to.”
Kibum and Donghae were uncomfortably intertwined with each other in the small bathtub, slipping in and out of each other because of the endless suds.
“Mouth.” And Donghae sat, legs open, on the edge of the bathtub, his erection wet and warm, waiting for Kibum. He grabbed the showerhead and washed it off with cold water, shuddered at the sudden rush to the tip, the cold penetrating his skin.
He grabbed Kibum’s hair and pulled him until his lips touched the tip of his erection. Growled as Kibum’s pink tongue flicked across his opening, then opened up warm an inviting, pushing his mouth in until he was completely inside Kibum.
Kibum gagged at the sudden introduction too far, then sucked placidly, keeping the pressure perfect, the warmth increasing with the blood flow. This, Donghae felt, the warmth and wet of Kibum’s mouth against the coldness of the water before made him shudder, made him come into Kibum.
“Don’t you fucking dare to drip.”
But Kibum could not hold it in, and spilled into Donghae’s lap and his own hands and knew that whatever came, it would be so painful, and unbearable, that he would have to pay for it over and over.
Afterhours:Part1
Afterhours:Part2
Afterhours:Part3