First Mistake, Part Two
Fandom: UKISS
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: JaeVin, ElVin (mentioned)
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Word Count: 16,496
Summary: As Kevin and Eli’s relationship cools off, Kevin finds himself missing something he’s never had the chance to experience. Making a decision he knows that he will regret, he goes to confront AJ to see if there are better options available to him, even if he only wants those options for a single night.
Notes: A prequel to Ky Johnson's story "His."
Turning slowly in place, I look to him even before I'm facing him. There is determination and no small amount of fear painted on his face. He was afraid that I might leave, and that shakes me to my very foundation. Taking a shallow breath, I nod.
This time, Jaeseop is the one closing the distance between us. He steps towards me, and then his hands are framing my jaw as he pulls me in for an overwhelming kiss. Those lips against mine are hard and soft all at once, pouring out his frustration into my mouth. All of those feelings that I am fighting come out in the form of a soft moan that is given back against all of his hot pressure.
"God, Kevin..."
He moans my name, and the pressure of those hands vanishes from my jaw. They move quickly, pressing against my waist, pulling me closer to him. He crushes me up against his chest. His hands tangle themselves in my shirt in a way that I can only describe as possessive, and I don't fight it. I've always wanted to be held by someone like this, like I'm wanted. Maybe even hungered for. No matter how wrong this is, he is still the only man who has ever made me feel that way.
There is only the space of a breath between us, and then he's kissing me again. I'm melting against him, pressing back against his chest as he lays claim to my mouth. He isn't holding back at all, not with this kiss and not with the way he's touching me.
Ignorant of my thoughts, Jaeseop takes a step forward. Instinctively, I take a step back. We moved like this earlier, too. He lets out a small grunt of satisfaction, pulling back to suck on my lip. "Keep moving, baby."
Ignoring the term of endearment, I follow his direction. He doesn't let go of me until I'm pressed back against the wall. His hard body presses me back against the plaster, not giving me any room to escape the intensity of his lips.
This is so much more than a kiss. This is a hundred missed opportunities, three years of longing and so many things I've repressed all poured into this one, single moment. Jaeseop pulls away from my mouth, trailing his mouth down my jaw. I can't stop the soft sound that leaves my lips as he latches onto the side of my neck.
Teeth trace a line of skin, giving me more of those amazing shivers. How can something like that feel good? Because it does. It feels wonderful, and all of those doubts I've had all evening are melting away. When he is pressed this close and touching me this way, it's impossible to deny the truth. I want him.
"Baby..."
He's panting heavily against my throat. Everything that I'm feeling, he's feeling it, too. I can feel that in the way his fingers are pressing into my sides and running down my body. He's trying to hold back, but he isn't succeeding. Neither am I.
After a moment, he manages to rein himself in a little. Those white-hot fingers retreat from where they were rubbing circles on my hips, moving to the safety zone of my waist. He rests his forehead against my shoulder, breathing raggedly.
"I know you didn't mean... this when you agreed to stay," he tries to explain. "I was just... glad you stayed. I guess I got carried away. Sorry. With you, I just can't..."
Control myself, I finish silently. I'm starting to know that feeling. Tonight, we have that in common.
This pause is another opportunity to stop whatever this is. When he asked me to stay, I had no illusions about what might happen. He asked me for tonight, if not in as many words. He isn't saint enough to mean that any other way but physically. Or, at least, part of me hopes that he isn't. Right now, I don't just want a hug and a pat on the back. I'm sure he knows that, but he's still giving me the chance to draw a line, even if I do stay. But I don't really want to draw that line. I'm not even sure if I could. Even though he's apologizing, even though he's the one who is trying to stop, he's still pressed up against me so closely that I can feel just how much he is enjoying this. The heat between us is reinforcing all of the reasons I came here in the first place.
Swallowing hard, I prepare to ask a question I never thought I would ask. "What if I want you to get carried away?"
Silence. Then:
"What?" He sounds genuinely surprised, which comes as a mild shock. I thought he was just being polite by apologizing for getting carried away. After all, it's not like I've tried to stop him. Well, not really.
My lips move, but any response I could give aloud would be too shaky. Instead, I move. The hand that I have on his back slides slowly down his spine, tracing across his right side and down his hip. This is another step forward that I can't take back, and I already know that I'll regret it. Right now, there are worse things. With that in mind, I let my fingers wander onto the front of the jeans, easily finding the prominent raise in the fabric that I've felt pressing up against me. My fingers mold themselves around his dick, feeling him. He's completely hard, and I can feel his heat even through his jeans.
Comprehension sets in, and I hear a quiet, "Oh." leave his lips. My fingers flex, and that "oh" turns into a gasp against my throat. My fingers barely have any room to move, but that doesn't matter. That single sound makes me want to hear more. My hand works despite the awkward angle, sliding another inch up his outline, feeling his shaft through the material. He responds with a very enthusiastic kiss, stealing my breath as he pushes himself towards my fingers.
"Do you want me... like this?" I ask. The words are unsteady, but there's no reason for them to be. I already know the answer. He's always wanted me. Like this, too. "Just for tonight."
Groaning, Jaeseop pulls away slightly. Does he wish I hadn't asked?
"You said this was a mistake," he pants, his mouth hovering just over my ear. He sounds uncertain. I'm sure my qualifier of only tonight is causing him problems on top of everything else.
I won't lie. "It is."
"But you still want...?"
"Yes." Right now, want is the only word defining my existence. Maybe this heat between us will clear my head, make me forget what I'm feeling in my heart by setting fire to my nerves instead. "Yes."
He breathes, shifting against me. He's still pushing himself against my hand, but I don't think he's aware that he's doing it. He's thinking. Maybe I should let him, but I can't bring myself to pull my hand away.
Finally, he decides. "Okay."
That's all the permission I need. My hand squeezes again, and I'm rewarded with another heady kiss. His tongue tangles with mine, claiming my mouth as I start stroking him through his jeans. Breaking away from the kiss, I decide to follow his earlier example. Clumsily, I kiss my way to his jaw, pleased when he tilts his head to let me follow a line of barely-there stubble down his throat. I'm hardly doing anything, just kissing his skin, but he seems to enjoy even that. His fingers are tightening in my shirt, stretching the fabric. He tastes like sweat.
I want more than just this, but I don't want to go further with him boxing me in against the wall. When he rocks into me again, I pull my hands away and shove at his shoulders instead. He doesn't protest; he just follows the movement, letting me push him back against the wall he had me framed against only a moment ago.
I thought that, when I got out from under him, some of the heat I've been feeling might go away. Instead, it's only getting stronger as I push him back against the wall, stealing kisses from his lips. His hands reach out to find my shirt again, and he pulls me right up against him. He may be keeping me close, but he's letting me lead the way. I like that, and I definitely like the way that he's whispering my name against my lips.
When I push gently at his jaw, he tilts his head and lets me continue those kisses down his neck. He really is letting me take what I want. No one has ever really done that for me, given me that freedom. That does a lot for me.
Jaeseop rocks up against me a little too hard. My teeth graze his throat in response, biting down lightly. He lets out a small noise, but he seems to get the idea, staying still when I hold his hips in place so I can lean up against him. His warmth is intoxicating against me, even through our clothes.
This is nice, but this isn't what I want. I let my fingers pull away from the denim of his jeans, sliding up under the edge of his shirt. The muscles in his stomach contract when my hands hit skin, feeling his fever-hot body against my palms. The touch is small, but his hips push forward again, a silent request for more contact. I don't think he means to do that. Maybe I'm not the only one having problems with self-control tonight.
"Kevin," he breathes, "you're amazing."
I've given up entirely on pretenses; I want him. I want this, and I need more of those sounds leaving his lips. I like the way his voice hitches when I push myself up against him and let him feel that he's not the only one affected by what we're doing. I want to make him say my name a little louder. I've gone this far. I've asked for more. There's really no point in holding back any longer, and there's something I've been wanting to do for a while.
He lets out a protest as I pull back, but the sound dies on his lips as I sink to the floor in front of him. On my knees, it's all too easy to reach out and unfasten the catch on his jeans. There's a part of me that expects him to stop me, or tell me no, or change his mind. However, his consideration and manners seem to have run out for the evening. He doesn't even act surprised. He just runs one of his hands through my hair, breathing heavily as I slowly unzip his pants. Glancing up, I can see him licking his lips to keep them wet as he smiles at me. Has he thought about this the way I have? Probably. Despite what we're doing, that thought is what makes me blush. I can feel it, but right now I don't really care.
A gentle tug is all it takes for his jeans to slide free from his hips. He arches his back away from the wall, making it easier for me to tug them lower, leaving him in just his briefs. They're having a hard time keeping him contained. I doubt they're very comfortable right now. The fabric is straining, and my breath catches at the sight. I've never been with him like this, but we've seen each other undressed plenty of times. He's bigger than I thought, and definitely bigger than I'm used to. My fingers find their way to his arousal, tracing his length through the fabric. Leaning forward, I press my lips to the tip. The fabric is already wet, salty, and we haven't even done anything. He sucks in a heavy breath.
"You like this?" I ask quietly, slipping my fingers under the waistband of his underwear. He's trembling slightly. Is he really that turned on, or is he nervous, too?
He lets out a short laugh. "You have to ask?"
There's no point in answering. And there's definitely no point as I peel the last layer down, freeing him from his confines. His clothes are pushed all the way to his knees, and I am left face-to-face with his cock. My tongue flicks out to lick my own lips at the sight. He's so hard, and he's pulsing. This is because of me? That turns me on a lot more than it should. I can't ignore something like that, and I definitely didn't come here to go sightseeing.
"Please," he murmurs, pushing towards me slightly as I wrap my fingers around him. He's impatient, but I can't really blame him. I know exactly what he means.
In response, I let my fingers work their way down his length as I learn the way he feels. He's heavy in my hand, his skin velvet-soft against my fingers. He's already damp, clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock. That sight is surprisingly tempting, tightening that knot of arousal in my stomach. Leaning in, I press a kiss to his head. It's not much, barely a touch, but I can taste him. His dick twitches against my mouth, his fingers tightening in my hair. The scent of his arousal is surprisingly sexy. Just doing this makes me want him.
His eyes never leave me as my tongue slides all the way from the tip of his cock down to the base. Smooth veins overlay steel under my tongue. There's nothing halfway about how turned on he is, and knowing that's because of me affects me more than it should. I know I shouldn't be aroused by this, but it's impossible to avoid as my tongue slides up to circle the head of his dick, dipping into the slit.
I pull back far enough to take a breath, and then I take him into my mouth. This isn't the way it normally is when I do something like this. I don't want to stop as quickly as I can, or rush through it. I kind of like the way that his fingers stutter in my hair when I close my lips around him. He's panting, groaning softly when he slides all the way to the back of my throat. I've never heard him sound like that before.
The more of him I take into my mouth, the more I'm enjoying doing this for him. This isn't something I usually like; eyes watering, unable to breathe and feeling the sting of too much enthusiasm is the norm. Right now, though, I feel like I can't get enough of them. And, God, I even like the way he tastes. I'm completely caught up in the feel of the slight wrinkle of skin on my tongue as I take him with my mouth, ignoring the tightness in my throat.
My left hand can't stay still on his hips, not even when he starts rocking them minutely against me. Instead, my nails scratch their way down his thigh, then back up again. My other hand works what my mouth can't manage, stroking him at a pace that's slowly increasing to follow his lead.
"Kevin..."
His voice is heated and desperate. The single mention of my name pulls my eyes upwards. His mouth is hanging open, head pressed to the wall behind him as he breathes heavily into the air. His hand tightens in my hair again as he meets my eyes and offers me a heated grin. The expression falters as I lean forward experimentally, taking as much of him into my mouth as I can. His eyes roll and he gasps. I like having that kind of effect on him. That much control. It's amazing.
"I'm getting... close," he manages.
That's my signal to pull my mouth away; I won't bring him off like that, but I have no qualms about stroking him to completion. Both of my hands wrap around him, offering a little more pressure as I catch my breath and watch his face. There's only a second or two before he's lost. His body tenses, jerking suddenly, and that's all the further warning I get before he lets out a shout and goes over the edge. Every pulse sends another spurt of come shooting, hitting my cheek, chin and hair. I don't pull my hands away until he's completely done, panting against the wall, wincing slightly at the pass of my fingers on his dick.
Somehow, things seem different in the wake of what just happened. Even though it's only been a few seconds, the heat in the air is gone. Suddenly, I just feel awkward, sitting on my knees in front of him, covered in his come.
If Jaeseop feels any of the awkwardness, he doesn't show it. He just pulls me back onto my feet. He's looking at me with such complete happiness that I can't look him in the eye. Warmth surrounds me as his arms slide around my waist and he pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my chin. He licks off some of the mess he left. That seems pretty lewd right up until he moves his lips and pulls me in for a deep, satisfying kiss. He tangles our tongues together, salty and bitter with his come, and encourages me to just give in to our embrace.
When we break apart, I'm having a harder time thinking straight than I'd like.
"That was amazing, baby," he murmurs. He didn't need to; I could kind of tell from the way he kissed me. "Can I make you feel good, too?"
The way he says those words sends a wave of heat through my body. He's very tempting. I'm more turned on than I can remember being in ages. My body wants more. I've already had a little bit, even if I was the one giving him pleasure, but I'm not sure I've had enough. It would be so easy to just say yes. To give in and make one more mistake and let him touch me.
So easy, but I find myself freezing.
"I need to get cleaned up," I tell him, not answering his question.
His arms fall away from my waist as I pull away. I don't need directions for the bathroom; it's right around the corner from the front door. Stepping inside, I fumble for the light. As soon as it's on, I close the door and lock it. There's a box of tissues on the back of the toilet. I grab them and instantly pull out several handfuls, already wiping at the spots of warm wetness I can feel on my skin. A hand to my hair tells me that more of his stuff hit me than I had thought. Does he always make that much of a mess?
No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get all of it off my skin or out of my hair. I'm going to smell like his stuff for at least two days, I'm sure. That isn't a happy thought. No one can know that I've been here. Nobody can know I did that. A small pin-prick of panic shoots through me as I hurry to try and clean up the mess.
When nothing else comes away on the tissues, I look to the mirror over the sink to check my work. I've been avoiding my own reflection. I don't know that I want to see the look on my face right now. I'm sure that when I see, what I've just done will be painted all over my features. Or I'll be unhappy. Or crying, and not realize it. Something, anything. I've tried avoiding myself all evening, and I can't do that when I'm staring myself in the face.
Except I'm not unhappy. The face looking back at me in the mirror is blushing, but I'm smiling. I hadn't even realized. My skin is clear. Only a damp spot on my hair marks what happened. Unexpectedly, I find myself wishing that I had looked before I cleaned everything up. For curiosity, if nothing else. Because even though I keep telling myself that this is a mistake, even though I know it's wrong, I liked doing that for him. That's why I wanted to touch him in the first place, and why I know I'll be thinking about those sounds he made for the next week. I've had idle daydreams about touching him, or doing things with him. But that's normal, isn't it? Doesn't everyone think about things like that? Those thoughts were nothing like reality...
And Jaeseop cannot know.
With that resolve in mind, I focus and wipe the smile off my face. One by one, the tissues are disposed of and I straighten out my clothes, adjusting my pants to hide what's left of my arousal. Steadying myself, I open the bathroom door and walk into the hall. Jaeseop is there waiting for me, leaning against the far wall. He's straightened his clothes out, successfully hiding any evidence of what we've done, but I can still see it. It's there, plain as day, in the way he's looking at me.
Ignoring that look, I stare at the wall behind him. "It's late."
That's true enough, even though I have no idea what time it is. It's definitely past midnight, and that's all that matters. I should leave while I still can. Before the heat still rolling through my body overrides my common sense. I'm fighting the urge to walk right over to him and pull him into another kiss. My body is admitting what I still refuse to fully acknowledge: I haven't had enough of him.
"Yeah, it's late," he agrees, watching me with his eyes warm. "Are you okay?"
I've walked away from him right after getting him off. Of course he's worried. I can't tell him that the reason I walked away is because I'm afraid of what I feel. My callous actions will cost me before tonight is over. Maybe they already have.
Am I okay? It's a good question. I'm not sure. He makes me feel something I've never felt, not even with Eli. That isn't okay. That isn't the way things are supposed to be, but feeling off-center doesn't mean that something is wrong. Even if what I'm doing is wrong. I still can't look at him.
"I'm okay," I tell him quietly. I don't think he believes me.
Jaeseop reaches for me, taking one of my hands in his own. His thumb brushes across the back of my fingers. For a moment, that warmth is all I can think about. "Kevin, do you want to be here?"
He can tell that I'm uneasy. He isn't pushing me. He's just asking, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. I could tell him right now that I'm uncomfortable, that I shouldn't be here. He's giving me a chance to leave. Maybe he can tell that this isn't right. I'm not sure, but I am sure about one thing. He cares about me. He's worried about me. And if I'm to believe what he's been telling me for years, he loves me.
Maybe it's selfish, but right now I need to feel loved. Right now, I need him.
"I want to be here."
Glancing at him for the first time since I came out of the bathroom, I can see him considering my words. The serious look on his face melts a little when his eyes meet mine. He smiles, the smallest upturning of the corners of his lips. "Come to bed."
Somehow, I don't think he's planning on just going to sleep. I already said that I'd stay, and with what I've done, I'm running out of excuses to resist him.
Fingers on the side of my face pull me out of my thoughts, bringing my attention back to him and the way he's watching me as he waits for a response. His hand drifts down my neck, making the skin just over the collar of my shirt tingle. There's momentary hesitation, and then his hand slides down my chest. He tugs on my shirt, urging me closer. I'm surprised by the way that my entire body presses into his touch, looking for more than that simple caress. Is this how it's supposed to be when you're with someone? I always thought that wanting someone was ninety percent mental, but right now my body is doing the thinking for me.
This is still a mistake, and we both know it. Knowing that it is, however, doesn't change the fact that I'm nodding, turning and letting him slide his arm around my waist. He leads me back to the bedroom, guiding me down onto the bed. He's being careful and considerate with everything he does. Knowing that this is wrong does not make me stop him from pulling my shirt off, or protest when he leans in to kiss me again, tilting my head so he can run his lips down my throat and onto my shoulder. He pushes me back down onto the covers, and I can't seem to stop myself from reaching for him, pulling him with me.
All of that take from earlier is gone. He isn't pulling me to him, or asking me to touch him. Instead, it's him touching me now, running his hand across my bare stomach and raising nervous enjoyment in every inch of my skin that those fingers of his tease. Under any other circumstances, the way he's touching me would probably tickle. Right now, all it's doing is adding to the heat that is concentrating around us.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. His hand slides down onto the fabric of my pants, his words and touch combining in a sudden burst of hesitation in my chest.
"Don't say things like that."
Immediately, I reach for his wrist and stop him from touching. He looks at me, surprised. The warm, happy glow from a moment ago flickers. I've been too harsh. I can't take the words back, but I can do something to help. My hand pulls away from his wrist and I reach for his shirt, tugging it up. The smile on his lips returns as he gets the idea, tugging the shirt off with his own two hands.
We're both half-dressed, partially lit in the thin light from his lamp, and suddenly I remember how much I like it when he doesn't put a shirt on. He isn't incredibly cut, or particularly artistically sculpted like some of the fans would like to think, but that doesn't change the fact that I like looking. But I've never been able to touch him like this before, the way I want. He responds with a content murmur when my fingers find his skin and feel his warmth. His skin is so soft. I didn't think I would like something as simple as touching him like this, but it's strangely pleasing to me.
"Baby," he says, "I like it when you touch me like that."
His words do funny things to my stomach. Leaning up, I kiss him, hoping to stop more of those confusing words from leaving his lips. He responds by sliding over top of me, pressing into my hands and lowering himself against my body. His mouth on mine is hot, giving and taking all at once. His tongue brushes across my lips, and then something else brushes up against me further down as he presses close. He's aroused again, already firm and wanting. But he doesn't press, doesn't ask for more. He just kisses me, holding me as he rocks slowly against me on his bed.
And then it hits me: he's moving slow. He's taking things easy, not rushing, and I find myself confused. Is this because I've been hesitant since the moment I showed up? The fact that I came here in the first place should say enough, even though I've considered leaving more than once. For the first time in the evening, I don't think I want him to move slowly. Not when the way he's rocking against me is making me want more of him.
Pulling back from our kiss, I tilt my head and instantly feel his lips on my jaw again. I'm panting. "Touch me."
Jaeseop groans, and that's the only indication I get that he's heard what I said. After a moment, I get another kind of confirmation as one of the hands pressed against my stomach slides lower, tickling a shallow path down my belly and onto my pants. For a second, his fingers pull away and I feel nothing. And then he touches, and I'm feeling so much as his fingers cup me, his palm rubbing through fabric.
A moan leaves my lips and I can't stop myself from arching a little off the bed, my body responding to him automatically. He doesn't stop. He just moves his mouth lower, sucking on my neck. I seriously hope he doesn't leave any marks, but I can't think straight enough to care as that hand around my cock starts stroking at the same time that he bites down on my collarbone. Why is he so good at this?
"Kevin, I want..." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I want you. I want to take care of you. Please, can I...?"
He doesn't have to finish the question. My body is responding for me, all lust and electricity and want. He's the reason for this, and that's why I'm blushing.
"Take me," I say roughly. The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I'm saying. That probably wasn't what he was going to ask. I'm sure he was just going to ask to touch me. More than he already is, I mean. But that's not all I want.
My response seems to be the right answer, but it feels wrong as he pulls away from me, sitting back as my arms fall away from his shoulders. And then I see why as his hands fumble with the button on my pants, fingers sliding underneath the waistband and tugging them off. My briefs follow quickly.
I don't even remember him taking the time to remove his own clothes, but when he presses me back against the bed again, it's hot skin against hot skin as our legs tangle together. He smirks when he sees me looking him up and down, admiring more than I probably should. But then the opportunity to look is gone as he kisses me, his lips and tongue claiming me again. He grinds his hips down against mine, and there's nothing polite about this. I am completely lost in the feel of his mouth and body. His fingers squeezing my hip are enough to steal all reason, especially when he drags his tongue across my teeth.
He pulls back, licking his lips as though he likes the way I taste. "Is this okay?"
I'm not sure how he expects me think, but he's still asking the question. He moves back a little, giving me room to think. One of his legs is between both of mine. Between that and his free hand sliding between my thighs, I get the message. He wants me to spread my legs. He wants to touch more. He could have gone ahead without asking, but he's checking to make sure that I'm really okay with this. He's too nice. He's too considerate. I wish he'd be more of an asshole, because this is going to be a lot harder when we're finished thanks to him.
Shoving that thought aside, I nod. "Go ahead.
He leans in and kisses me again, short and sweet. When he pulls away this time, it's to reach for the drawer on his nightstand. He tugs it open, reaching inside to fish around for something. His hand emerges a few seconds later with a small, plastic bottle. Personal lubricant. Of course. We'll need that, but I don't want to watch when he pops the cap open and upends the bottle. Instead, I focus on running my hands down over his chest and across his stomach. His smooth skin is warm under my fingertips. I love the way he shivers when I thumb across his nipples.
This is a distraction, one that works all too well. He catches me by surprise when his slick, wet fingers reach between my legs. The lube drips down my balls as his fingers slide further back. The tip of one of his fingers bushes up against my ass, barely touching as he gets a feel for me. He's waiting, making certain yet again that I want this. I'm still in a state of disbelief that I've actually come here, and that we are in this kind of position. Even so, there's no doubt in my mind as to whether or not I want this.
When I nod, he presses that finger inside, offering an awkward sort of pressure as he works his digit into me. Any more questions he might have are gone, overshadowed by what he's doing. A second finger joins the first, and I wrap my arms around him as best I can from the odd angle, trying to find something to hold onto.
Holding onto him is useless when he pushes a third finger into me. That isn't just awkward; it stings. Sensing my discomfort, Jaeseop presses kisses to my chest, murmuring quiet endearments I don't want to hear. My fingers clutch at his skin, but he slides out of my grasp as his lips move lower. Then, I forget entirely about those three fingers buried deep inside of me. His mouth is wrapped around my cock, tongue teasing my entire length as he takes me into his throat with no hesitation. He begins to pulse up and down my length, sucking and squeezing in a way that makes the room go dim around the edges for me. Those fingers of his come back with a vengeance, stroking me from the inside, and the combination is unlike anything I've felt before. Sparks of heat shoot up from somewhere deep in my belly.
His fingers brush against something sensitive inside of me and I'm shouting. "Jaeseop!"
Those lips of his pull back, his tongue flicking under the head of my cock. I chance a look down at him and find him watching me, his warm eyes sending another bolt of electricity through me. He holds my gaze as he slides my length back into his mouth, and it's maybe the hottest thing I've ever seen.
"Oh God," I breathe heavily, feeling my body rushing as he begins to take me quickly again, "I'm... I'm going to..."
The heat is gone. His fingers stay where they are, but his mouth is suddenly at my ear. He laughs breathlessly and presses a kiss to my cheek. "Not yet," he tells me.
"Jaeseop," I groan, frustrated and hanging on the edge. "That's not fair! I let you c--"
"Not yet," he murmurs, cutting me off. "I want to be inside you when you come."
The words are dirty and burning hot, sending another searing flash of heat through me. He's saying things like that, but he still hasn't taken another step towards making that happen. He just kisses my cheek, nibbling at my ear as he slides his fingers out of me. My body presses up against him in one.
"Hang on, baby," he whispers, pulling back and reaching for his nightstand again.
This time, his fingers emerge with a foil packet: a condom. Why does he even have them ready like this? An uncomfortable surge of jealousy beats through my heart for half a second at the thought that he might be seeing someone else, or at least be sleeping with someone else. But jealousy doesn't make any sense, not when I don't love him. Or like him. Or want anything from him beyond sex. Especially not when I've got someone else that I'm with. Someone I care about. Someone I don't want to think about right now.
Acting on impulse, I reach out and grab his wrist before he can retrieve the condom. He blinks down at me in confusion. My mouth opens, but words don't come out. I don't know how to tell him what I'm wanting; I don't want anything in the way when I feel him. If I'm doing this, just once, I want all of it. Slowly, I just shake my head and pray that he'll get the idea.
"Are you sure?" he asks. I nod. I don't really think there's much of a risk. I don't want to know if there's a risk. I just want him. That thought is overriding common sense for me right now.
Hesitating for only a second, he nods and drops the offending item back into his nightstand drawer, sliding it closed. Then, all of his attention is back on me once more.
"God, I want you," he whispers, leaning in to kiss me. His hands are already reaching to push my legs apart as he slides between him.
Jaeseop hovers over me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. The length of his arousal presses into my hip as he drags his tongue across my lips, then leans in for a slow kiss so emotional that I have to pull away. I can't feel that. I can't feel that with him.
"Still okay?" he asks, moving his lips to my neck instead. He doesn't comment on my pulling away.
Is it okay? He's framing me against the mattress. My hands are sliding down his back again, and there's a part of me that wouldn't mind just having him hold me like this for a long while. But there's another part of me that wants more. More, and that's exactly what we're getting ready to do. He's going to take me like this, in this intimate position. This is too personal, too familiar and romantic. I had halfway hoped he would push me down onto the mattress stomach-first or something, anything so that I wouldn't have to see his face while we do this. I should have known better; he wouldn't allow something that impersonal for our first time. Our only time.
That doesn't matter. This is just one time. Only this once. I nod, and that's apparently all the permission he needs as he slides his own legs a little further apart. He pushes my hips up as he reaches down to position himself. I can feel the head of his cock brushing against me, tempting and solid. He holds himself there, and from the look on his face, I'm sure I don't want to know what he's thinking. But then those cat-eyes open and look down at me, and all I can feel is warmth as he murmurs my name. He leans in to kiss me again and, with that, he pushes into me.
His lips taking mine, devouring my mouth in a way that's somewhere between overwhelming and emotional. And the feel of him pushing deeper into my body. I've never felt anything like this. He's hitting every single nerve at the same time that he's completely stretching my skin, pushing me to my limits. I can't help it; I cry out against his mouth, my hands flying from his back to the sheets of his bed, clawing at the fabric. It doesn't hurt, not really. It just stings. It stings, and I can feel all of him. I can feel the way he's thrusting into me, small strokes pushing him further every time. And I can feel his heartbeat. I can even feel how ragged his breath is against my shoulder when he can't go any further.
"Jaeseop." His name is the only word I can think clearly. "Jaeseop."
He pulls away from my shoulder, pressing shaky kisses to the side of my face, my hair, everywhere he can reach. He isn't asking if I'm okay. He doesn't ask if it hurts. He just waits for me to calm down.
"Finally," he breathes, kissing my jaw. "Kevin..."
One of his hands brushes its way down the side of my face, most of his weight resting against my chest. The fingers on my skin are a distraction from the pressure I'm feeling elsewhere as I try to get used to the feeling.
Jaeseop is touching me softly, stroking my skin. His hand makes its way south as his lips press against my throat. He's trying to take care of me, I realize, just like he promised. He makes good on that as he lifts himself off me far enough to slide his hand between us, wrapping his fingers around my erection. One breath, then he's stroking me, slowly but it's more than enough to distract me from the pressure of his dick inside of me.
My breath speeds up as he thumbs over the head of my cock. He does it again, and I let out a soft cry. With that, he begins to pull out, leaving me feeling incredibly empty. But then he's pushing back into me and all thoughts in my head vanish, replaced by him.
Every motion is bold, but it's so gentle that I can feel the care behind what he's doing. I may be indecisive, thinking too much and still not quite lost to this heat between us, but that isn't the case for him. Even though I'm trying to tell myself that I don't care about him, he's right here with me, making me feel good. He's succeeding; I can't get enough of him right now.
I can't hide all of these feelings rushing through my body. My fingers tense against his skin and my lips find his shoulder, tasting sweat as I pull him down against me. He feels amazing. All of him, from the way he's panting in my ear to those quick hands of his still stroking my dick.
"Baby," he whispers, "I need you so much."
They're only words, but they turn me on so much more. I've never had sex like this before. Like the person I'm with actually means it, like they're here because they... love me. I'm used to rough, quick sessions that end too early. Or maybe something hurried in the mornings to relieve a little tension. That isn't this. This is something completely new. The way that Jaeseop is moving, it's slow and sweet, like he's taking his time. My body is moving, too, pulling him closer every time I roll my hips. My nails dig into his shoulder and back, tugging him closer. He follows my lead, pushing into me heavier every time I rock up against him.
"More," I beg, tightening my hold on him again.
In response, he slips out of my hold with a grunt, pulling away completely. His body pulls free of mine, and I can't stop the shout that leaves my lips. My entire body is unhappy with the sudden lack of connection between us.
Half a second later, he leans over me once again. "Sorry, baby," he says. "Lift your hips."
The unhappy pout doesn't leave my face as I do what he asks, glaring at him mildly. The happy, stupid smile on his lips is only infuriating for a second. He shoves a thick pillow under my hips, and then I don't have a chance to protest or ask what he's doing. As soon as I'm settled on the pillow, he's hovering over me again, pushing up against me and then pushing into me and oh. If I thought I felt full before, it was nothing compared to this. I can feel all of him as he presses deeper, hitting all the right places as he moves. And then he hits something completely different, and I'm crying out.
"Right there?" he asks, panting. "Like that?"
I don't even know how he can think clearly enough to ask. Nodding as best I can, I let out another muffled shout as he rocks into me again, hitting that same spot dead-on. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he's making me completely lose my mind. He doesn't say a word when my fingers dig into his back, sliding across slick skin to hold him close. He just lets out my name in a heavy groan, panting against my shoulder again as he picks up the pace. He isn't just taking me. He's claiming me, driving me straight back into the mattress, all of that sweet slowness from before forgotten.
His lips find mine, stealing desperate kisses as the pillow under my hips comes askew. We're both burning, caught up in this fire. I've never felt this completely overwhelmed by anyone. His name is falling from my lips as he takes me, and I can feel my body rushing towards the finish.
"Shit. Shit. Fuck, Kevin..."
I'm apparently not the only one. I don't need a Jaeseop-to-Korean dictionary to tell me what that means. My arms tighten around him. Every inch of my skin is crawling with the need to release, but his hand on me loosens and pulls away. His hips slow, barely moving as he pants heavily against my skin. Surely, he didn't...
"Sorry, baby. I'm... not ready to stop feeling you yet," he pants. I can tell how much effort it takes for him to stay still like this. He's shaking. "Can we... just... stay like this? Just for a minute. I just want to..."
Feel you, I finish silently.
There has been nothing slow about tonight, and yet I can't seem to find the will to protest. I know what he's doing. I have offered him this much. I can't begrudge him this small favor. His sweat-slick skin smells sweet as I lean forward to kiss his shoulder. That's the most coherent reaction I can possibly give, though I can't stop the impatient whine that accompanies it. My eye slide closed and I let myself feel the warmth as he presses a kiss to my shoulder.
He's still rocking into me, moving against that one place that feels so incredibly good. I think I can see what he means. This is the one chance I will have to know what it's like to feel him like this. I will never hold him in my arms again, or feel his lips on my skin. He'll never touch me this way after tonight. If I want to remember what it feels like, this is my chance. I need to enjoy being with him like this before the chance is gone.
And then the quiet moment has passed. Jaeseop can only hold his composure for half a minute before he's pushing into me again, gaining momentum with every thrust. It doesn't matter how much closeness either of us might need, I know that this is it. The end run. I can feel it with every nerve in my body as he tangles our tongues together in a heated kiss.
My arousal brushes against his stomach with every pass. The sound of his hips slamming into mine is driving me higher, but I need more. Pulling one of my hands away from the shoulder, I slide it between us and wrap my fingers around my arousal, helping myself out. As soon as my fingers hit skin, they're brushed out of the way.
"Let me," Jaeseop says, replacing my hand with his own. My fingers find their way to his arm, and his fingers begin pumping in time with his hips.
I won't last long. Not with how turned on I am, and not with the way my entire body seems focused completely on him. He's all I can think about, all I can feel. He wanted me and, right now, he has all of me. He's holding me and keeping me with the way that he's kissing me and pounding me into the mattress. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, counting the seconds before I am completely overwhelmed. And then, all of the pleasure that I'm feeling twists into pure, white heat as I go over the edge, completely losing my mind.
He keeps moving, that hand on my cock still stroking me as he pushes into me a final time, grunting my name against my lips. A warm pulse of heat inside of me, and then he's gone, too. His entire body shudders and we both let out another moan.
I'm still floating as I come down off cloud nine. The air around us is cold as ice, the only heat coming from his body as he rolls to the side, pulling me with him to cradle me in his arms. Slowly, those fingers pull away from my dick. He wipes his hand on the sheet, then wraps one of his arms around my waist, the other reaching up to act as a pillow, his fingers trailing through my hair.
Jaeseop doesn't protest when I pull away a few inches, feeling him slip free from my body. I don't want to think about how empty I feel now that we've finished. Only, we haven't finished. Not entirely. He reaches for me as I turn over, facing away from him to try and stare at the wall. His arm wraps around my waist again and his chest molds itself to my back as he slides up against me. I love the way it feels, him holding me like this. I have never felt this cherished before, the way he's brushing his fingers down my side and pressing small kisses to my hair, my cheek, even my shoulder. I shouldn't feel this way at all, not with anyone except...
"Baby," he whispers, "I love you."
I have heard him say those words a thousand times. Each time was more inappropriate than the last, but here in this room they seem completely sincere. They make me feel warm from the inside-out, like they mean something. That's enough to bring reality crashing down. I've been lying here, letting myself feel his warmth, and I can't. I can't respond to his words, and I can't stay here in my arms, feeling so completely content. I just can't do this anymore, because it's not right to feel so right.
"I need to leave," I tell him. The words take more effort than they should. I doubt that was the reaction he was hoping for. His hand tightens minutely around my stomach.
"Kevin?" he says concernedly. I don't give him a response.
I feel like I'm about to start crying. The tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes, and for the dumbest reason. I know that I shouldn't be here, but I'm completely content like this. I like the way that he's holding me, and I like the way that he's holding me close even though I pulled away. He seems to know what I need, but I don't know that I have ever felt this warm, loved, or cared for. All during a stupid one night stand as a result of my own bad decision making.
I love being with him like this, and I hate that because I know that I shouldn't feel that way. I shouldn't be completely happy, lying here against his chest, not when I have someone else that I am with. Eli. The person I love. It should be his fingers holding my hips, not Jaeseop's. But Eli has never made me feel this way. He has never made me feel so completely satisfied, or wanted, the way that Jaeseop does. Knowing that only makes me hate this more. This isn't the way things are supposed to be.
All of my willpower is required to reach for his hand and peel his fingers away from my skin. My muscles protest as I move to sit up slowly, testing my own equilibrium. Tears sting hotly against my cheeks, finally spilling over. I can't quite stand up yet, but I can scoot a few inches away to put some distance between us. I should tell him. He deserves to know that I've lied, but even without it, I'm sure my quick departure is enough. I'm already anticipating the reaction I'm sure is coming; anger, confusion, sadness. He doesn't handle things like this well, and I'm sure it will be worse since it's me. My mental walls are going up, preparing for the barrage. It never comes.
"Fuck..." Jaeseop sighs. It's not a shout, not a growl. It's barely a sound at all. "You guys didn't break up, did you?"
He knows. He knows. He doesn't even sound surprised. I can't bring myself to respond, I just stare at his floor, imagining that I can see the cracks in the wood slats as I shake my head. He sighs again.
"Did you even have a fight?" he asks. I don't like the tone of his voice; it isn't accusatory or even angry. He's just trying to understand.
I don't understand. I expected him to be furious. I shake my head again, but it isn't just my head that's shaking. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the tremors as the tears intensify. "I'm sorry, Jaeseop. I'm so sorry. I... I know how bad this looks, but I didn't mean..."
"Shh." There's a warm hand on my shoulder. I only get a heartbeat to recognize the feeling before Jaeseop's arms wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me into a warm hug. "Hush. Calm down, baby. Just calm down. Please don't cry."
I have just done the worst thing I possibly can. I used him. And I lied, even if by omission. And even with all of that, he's still trying to comfort me. Right now, I need that more than anything. His fingers are a soothing balm, rubbing soft circles into my skin as I turn and cry my eyes out against his shoulder. I only stay there for a few seconds. I want to stay forever. But I can't. I can't give him hope. I can't make him think this is anything more than sex, or that I mean anything by it. None of this is right. I can't make it worse than it has to be for either of us. The weight of what I've done is killing me. I don't know how I'll ever be able to look him in the eye again.
"Don't." Pulling away, I try and fail to control my tears. "I... don't touch me."
If he keeps touching me, I won't be able to leave. It's difficult enough without him further adding to my emotional distress. Even with the distance between us, I swear I can almost feel his lips and hands on my skin.
Behind me, Jaeseop says something, but I don't catch the words. I don't want to hear them. Instead, I dig my fingers into the sheets on the bed, jerking until one of them comes loose. Wrapping the material around my body, I try uselessly to hide my nakedness. Modesty doesn't matter, not that it ever really has within our group of co-workers, but it's the only protection I have right now. Not from him. I don't think I need to be afraid of Jaeseop. I never will. But right now, I am afraid of myself.
He will hate me when I leave. But I knew that when I came here, didn't I? Maybe I was kind of hoping that might be part of the solution. If he hates me, I won't have to live with what I've done. I won't have to avoid him; he'll do that for me. That thought burns far more than it probably should. I don't want him to avoid me. I don't want him to hate me. But that's the only way any of this can ever make sense.
My feet feel like lead weights as I stand up, clutching the sheet to my chest. I need to get dressed. That requires clothing, but none of my clothes are on this side of the bed. Or, at least, I can't see them in the light from Jaeseop's lamp. He must have... I mean, they must be on the other side, where he is. I don't want to ask him to hand them to me, but I also don't want to have to walk over to that side of the bed and see him. I guess I don't have a choice.
Each step is heavy as I pad around the end of the bed, avoiding the hope chest as I try not to think about what I'm doing. Five steps is all it takes to bring me around to the mess on the floor. I can't tell what's mine and what's his. Was he even still wearing a shirt when we got in here? Doesn't matter. I'll just take everything. I can toss what's his in the hamper in his bathroom.
Pile of clothing safely in my arms, I move to stand up and leave, but I'm stopped by the feel of his hand on my wrist. There's no point in asking what he's doing. I didn't really think he was just going to let me walk away in the first place.
"I don't care," he tells me. His voice isn't exactly flat, but it's still not angry.
He doesn't care? How can he not? What I've done is unforgiveable. I won't point that out. Instead, I'll ask something mindless and play dumb. I'm good at that. "What do you mean?"
"That you're still with him." He swallows, and I wonder if his throat is as dry as mine right now. "I don't give a shit that you guys didn't actually break up. I kind of thought... I mean, you coming over here is weird. Really weird. And, Kevin, you aren't a great liar. I'm not happy about it, but..."
He's rambling. For someone who doesn't talk much, he's just spoken volumes. My fingers twitch around the cold fabric in my hands. I guess it's his turn to be upset.
"Why wouldn't you care?" I ask. This is something I actually want to know. It's not empty like everything else I've done and said tonight. We're all going to wind up burning for this. I guess I might as well know why.
Without wanting to, I look over at him. He's looking straight back, meeting my eyes determinedly. "Because even if it's like this, at least I get to know what it's like to be with you. I want to be here for you. That's all I've ever wanted. And I don't think you were lying when you said you wanted me. You told me that you needed me. Was it true?"
Yes. It's still true. I can't look at him anymore.
"No. That was a lie, too." My eyes find the floor again. The discarded bottle of lube has tumbled off; I can see the cap just under the edge of the bed. "I don't want you. And I can take care of myself. I just needed... someone."
I know that I wouldn't believe me if I heard those words. They're thin and weak, kind of like how I feel right now.
Jaeseop tugs on my wrist, guiding me to sit on the bed next to him. I won't look him in the eye but, as always, he seems to know what I need. Running a thumb down the side of my face, he brushes away what's left of my tears just like he did earlier. Then, he frames my jaw with his hands. He doesn't bother to ask for permission. He just leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet, like he's telling me a secret. When he pulls back, it's far enough to give me space in which to think.
"Just stay," he tells me. "Things are a mess, but... you can sort them out tomorrow. Things will look better in the morning."
I want to tell myself that staying will just make things worse, but I've already agreed. I said yes earlier. I told him I would stay, even though I've been protesting uselessly for most of the night. I wonder who I'm fighting more, him or me.
"What if they don't?"
"Then we'll figure them out," he promises. "For now, just worry about tonight."
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: JaeVin, ElVin (mentioned)
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Word Count: 16,496
Summary: As Kevin and Eli’s relationship cools off, Kevin finds himself missing something he’s never had the chance to experience. Making a decision he knows that he will regret, he goes to confront AJ to see if there are better options available to him, even if he only wants those options for a single night.
Notes: A prequel to Ky Johnson's story "His."
Turning slowly in place, I look to him even before I'm facing him. There is determination and no small amount of fear painted on his face. He was afraid that I might leave, and that shakes me to my very foundation. Taking a shallow breath, I nod.
This time, Jaeseop is the one closing the distance between us. He steps towards me, and then his hands are framing my jaw as he pulls me in for an overwhelming kiss. Those lips against mine are hard and soft all at once, pouring out his frustration into my mouth. All of those feelings that I am fighting come out in the form of a soft moan that is given back against all of his hot pressure.
"God, Kevin..."
He moans my name, and the pressure of those hands vanishes from my jaw. They move quickly, pressing against my waist, pulling me closer to him. He crushes me up against his chest. His hands tangle themselves in my shirt in a way that I can only describe as possessive, and I don't fight it. I've always wanted to be held by someone like this, like I'm wanted. Maybe even hungered for. No matter how wrong this is, he is still the only man who has ever made me feel that way.
There is only the space of a breath between us, and then he's kissing me again. I'm melting against him, pressing back against his chest as he lays claim to my mouth. He isn't holding back at all, not with this kiss and not with the way he's touching me.
Ignorant of my thoughts, Jaeseop takes a step forward. Instinctively, I take a step back. We moved like this earlier, too. He lets out a small grunt of satisfaction, pulling back to suck on my lip. "Keep moving, baby."
Ignoring the term of endearment, I follow his direction. He doesn't let go of me until I'm pressed back against the wall. His hard body presses me back against the plaster, not giving me any room to escape the intensity of his lips.
This is so much more than a kiss. This is a hundred missed opportunities, three years of longing and so many things I've repressed all poured into this one, single moment. Jaeseop pulls away from my mouth, trailing his mouth down my jaw. I can't stop the soft sound that leaves my lips as he latches onto the side of my neck.
Teeth trace a line of skin, giving me more of those amazing shivers. How can something like that feel good? Because it does. It feels wonderful, and all of those doubts I've had all evening are melting away. When he is pressed this close and touching me this way, it's impossible to deny the truth. I want him.
"Baby..."
He's panting heavily against my throat. Everything that I'm feeling, he's feeling it, too. I can feel that in the way his fingers are pressing into my sides and running down my body. He's trying to hold back, but he isn't succeeding. Neither am I.
After a moment, he manages to rein himself in a little. Those white-hot fingers retreat from where they were rubbing circles on my hips, moving to the safety zone of my waist. He rests his forehead against my shoulder, breathing raggedly.
"I know you didn't mean... this when you agreed to stay," he tries to explain. "I was just... glad you stayed. I guess I got carried away. Sorry. With you, I just can't..."
Control myself, I finish silently. I'm starting to know that feeling. Tonight, we have that in common.
This pause is another opportunity to stop whatever this is. When he asked me to stay, I had no illusions about what might happen. He asked me for tonight, if not in as many words. He isn't saint enough to mean that any other way but physically. Or, at least, part of me hopes that he isn't. Right now, I don't just want a hug and a pat on the back. I'm sure he knows that, but he's still giving me the chance to draw a line, even if I do stay. But I don't really want to draw that line. I'm not even sure if I could. Even though he's apologizing, even though he's the one who is trying to stop, he's still pressed up against me so closely that I can feel just how much he is enjoying this. The heat between us is reinforcing all of the reasons I came here in the first place.
Swallowing hard, I prepare to ask a question I never thought I would ask. "What if I want you to get carried away?"
Silence. Then:
"What?" He sounds genuinely surprised, which comes as a mild shock. I thought he was just being polite by apologizing for getting carried away. After all, it's not like I've tried to stop him. Well, not really.
My lips move, but any response I could give aloud would be too shaky. Instead, I move. The hand that I have on his back slides slowly down his spine, tracing across his right side and down his hip. This is another step forward that I can't take back, and I already know that I'll regret it. Right now, there are worse things. With that in mind, I let my fingers wander onto the front of the jeans, easily finding the prominent raise in the fabric that I've felt pressing up against me. My fingers mold themselves around his dick, feeling him. He's completely hard, and I can feel his heat even through his jeans.
Comprehension sets in, and I hear a quiet, "Oh." leave his lips. My fingers flex, and that "oh" turns into a gasp against my throat. My fingers barely have any room to move, but that doesn't matter. That single sound makes me want to hear more. My hand works despite the awkward angle, sliding another inch up his outline, feeling his shaft through the material. He responds with a very enthusiastic kiss, stealing my breath as he pushes himself towards my fingers.
"Do you want me... like this?" I ask. The words are unsteady, but there's no reason for them to be. I already know the answer. He's always wanted me. Like this, too. "Just for tonight."
Groaning, Jaeseop pulls away slightly. Does he wish I hadn't asked?
"You said this was a mistake," he pants, his mouth hovering just over my ear. He sounds uncertain. I'm sure my qualifier of only tonight is causing him problems on top of everything else.
I won't lie. "It is."
"But you still want...?"
"Yes." Right now, want is the only word defining my existence. Maybe this heat between us will clear my head, make me forget what I'm feeling in my heart by setting fire to my nerves instead. "Yes."
He breathes, shifting against me. He's still pushing himself against my hand, but I don't think he's aware that he's doing it. He's thinking. Maybe I should let him, but I can't bring myself to pull my hand away.
Finally, he decides. "Okay."
That's all the permission I need. My hand squeezes again, and I'm rewarded with another heady kiss. His tongue tangles with mine, claiming my mouth as I start stroking him through his jeans. Breaking away from the kiss, I decide to follow his earlier example. Clumsily, I kiss my way to his jaw, pleased when he tilts his head to let me follow a line of barely-there stubble down his throat. I'm hardly doing anything, just kissing his skin, but he seems to enjoy even that. His fingers are tightening in my shirt, stretching the fabric. He tastes like sweat.
I want more than just this, but I don't want to go further with him boxing me in against the wall. When he rocks into me again, I pull my hands away and shove at his shoulders instead. He doesn't protest; he just follows the movement, letting me push him back against the wall he had me framed against only a moment ago.
I thought that, when I got out from under him, some of the heat I've been feeling might go away. Instead, it's only getting stronger as I push him back against the wall, stealing kisses from his lips. His hands reach out to find my shirt again, and he pulls me right up against him. He may be keeping me close, but he's letting me lead the way. I like that, and I definitely like the way that he's whispering my name against my lips.
When I push gently at his jaw, he tilts his head and lets me continue those kisses down his neck. He really is letting me take what I want. No one has ever really done that for me, given me that freedom. That does a lot for me.
Jaeseop rocks up against me a little too hard. My teeth graze his throat in response, biting down lightly. He lets out a small noise, but he seems to get the idea, staying still when I hold his hips in place so I can lean up against him. His warmth is intoxicating against me, even through our clothes.
This is nice, but this isn't what I want. I let my fingers pull away from the denim of his jeans, sliding up under the edge of his shirt. The muscles in his stomach contract when my hands hit skin, feeling his fever-hot body against my palms. The touch is small, but his hips push forward again, a silent request for more contact. I don't think he means to do that. Maybe I'm not the only one having problems with self-control tonight.
"Kevin," he breathes, "you're amazing."
I've given up entirely on pretenses; I want him. I want this, and I need more of those sounds leaving his lips. I like the way his voice hitches when I push myself up against him and let him feel that he's not the only one affected by what we're doing. I want to make him say my name a little louder. I've gone this far. I've asked for more. There's really no point in holding back any longer, and there's something I've been wanting to do for a while.
He lets out a protest as I pull back, but the sound dies on his lips as I sink to the floor in front of him. On my knees, it's all too easy to reach out and unfasten the catch on his jeans. There's a part of me that expects him to stop me, or tell me no, or change his mind. However, his consideration and manners seem to have run out for the evening. He doesn't even act surprised. He just runs one of his hands through my hair, breathing heavily as I slowly unzip his pants. Glancing up, I can see him licking his lips to keep them wet as he smiles at me. Has he thought about this the way I have? Probably. Despite what we're doing, that thought is what makes me blush. I can feel it, but right now I don't really care.
A gentle tug is all it takes for his jeans to slide free from his hips. He arches his back away from the wall, making it easier for me to tug them lower, leaving him in just his briefs. They're having a hard time keeping him contained. I doubt they're very comfortable right now. The fabric is straining, and my breath catches at the sight. I've never been with him like this, but we've seen each other undressed plenty of times. He's bigger than I thought, and definitely bigger than I'm used to. My fingers find their way to his arousal, tracing his length through the fabric. Leaning forward, I press my lips to the tip. The fabric is already wet, salty, and we haven't even done anything. He sucks in a heavy breath.
"You like this?" I ask quietly, slipping my fingers under the waistband of his underwear. He's trembling slightly. Is he really that turned on, or is he nervous, too?
He lets out a short laugh. "You have to ask?"
There's no point in answering. And there's definitely no point as I peel the last layer down, freeing him from his confines. His clothes are pushed all the way to his knees, and I am left face-to-face with his cock. My tongue flicks out to lick my own lips at the sight. He's so hard, and he's pulsing. This is because of me? That turns me on a lot more than it should. I can't ignore something like that, and I definitely didn't come here to go sightseeing.
"Please," he murmurs, pushing towards me slightly as I wrap my fingers around him. He's impatient, but I can't really blame him. I know exactly what he means.
In response, I let my fingers work their way down his length as I learn the way he feels. He's heavy in my hand, his skin velvet-soft against my fingers. He's already damp, clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock. That sight is surprisingly tempting, tightening that knot of arousal in my stomach. Leaning in, I press a kiss to his head. It's not much, barely a touch, but I can taste him. His dick twitches against my mouth, his fingers tightening in my hair. The scent of his arousal is surprisingly sexy. Just doing this makes me want him.
His eyes never leave me as my tongue slides all the way from the tip of his cock down to the base. Smooth veins overlay steel under my tongue. There's nothing halfway about how turned on he is, and knowing that's because of me affects me more than it should. I know I shouldn't be aroused by this, but it's impossible to avoid as my tongue slides up to circle the head of his dick, dipping into the slit.
I pull back far enough to take a breath, and then I take him into my mouth. This isn't the way it normally is when I do something like this. I don't want to stop as quickly as I can, or rush through it. I kind of like the way that his fingers stutter in my hair when I close my lips around him. He's panting, groaning softly when he slides all the way to the back of my throat. I've never heard him sound like that before.
The more of him I take into my mouth, the more I'm enjoying doing this for him. This isn't something I usually like; eyes watering, unable to breathe and feeling the sting of too much enthusiasm is the norm. Right now, though, I feel like I can't get enough of them. And, God, I even like the way he tastes. I'm completely caught up in the feel of the slight wrinkle of skin on my tongue as I take him with my mouth, ignoring the tightness in my throat.
My left hand can't stay still on his hips, not even when he starts rocking them minutely against me. Instead, my nails scratch their way down his thigh, then back up again. My other hand works what my mouth can't manage, stroking him at a pace that's slowly increasing to follow his lead.
"Kevin..."
His voice is heated and desperate. The single mention of my name pulls my eyes upwards. His mouth is hanging open, head pressed to the wall behind him as he breathes heavily into the air. His hand tightens in my hair again as he meets my eyes and offers me a heated grin. The expression falters as I lean forward experimentally, taking as much of him into my mouth as I can. His eyes roll and he gasps. I like having that kind of effect on him. That much control. It's amazing.
"I'm getting... close," he manages.
That's my signal to pull my mouth away; I won't bring him off like that, but I have no qualms about stroking him to completion. Both of my hands wrap around him, offering a little more pressure as I catch my breath and watch his face. There's only a second or two before he's lost. His body tenses, jerking suddenly, and that's all the further warning I get before he lets out a shout and goes over the edge. Every pulse sends another spurt of come shooting, hitting my cheek, chin and hair. I don't pull my hands away until he's completely done, panting against the wall, wincing slightly at the pass of my fingers on his dick.
Somehow, things seem different in the wake of what just happened. Even though it's only been a few seconds, the heat in the air is gone. Suddenly, I just feel awkward, sitting on my knees in front of him, covered in his come.
If Jaeseop feels any of the awkwardness, he doesn't show it. He just pulls me back onto my feet. He's looking at me with such complete happiness that I can't look him in the eye. Warmth surrounds me as his arms slide around my waist and he pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my chin. He licks off some of the mess he left. That seems pretty lewd right up until he moves his lips and pulls me in for a deep, satisfying kiss. He tangles our tongues together, salty and bitter with his come, and encourages me to just give in to our embrace.
When we break apart, I'm having a harder time thinking straight than I'd like.
"That was amazing, baby," he murmurs. He didn't need to; I could kind of tell from the way he kissed me. "Can I make you feel good, too?"
The way he says those words sends a wave of heat through my body. He's very tempting. I'm more turned on than I can remember being in ages. My body wants more. I've already had a little bit, even if I was the one giving him pleasure, but I'm not sure I've had enough. It would be so easy to just say yes. To give in and make one more mistake and let him touch me.
So easy, but I find myself freezing.
"I need to get cleaned up," I tell him, not answering his question.
His arms fall away from my waist as I pull away. I don't need directions for the bathroom; it's right around the corner from the front door. Stepping inside, I fumble for the light. As soon as it's on, I close the door and lock it. There's a box of tissues on the back of the toilet. I grab them and instantly pull out several handfuls, already wiping at the spots of warm wetness I can feel on my skin. A hand to my hair tells me that more of his stuff hit me than I had thought. Does he always make that much of a mess?
No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get all of it off my skin or out of my hair. I'm going to smell like his stuff for at least two days, I'm sure. That isn't a happy thought. No one can know that I've been here. Nobody can know I did that. A small pin-prick of panic shoots through me as I hurry to try and clean up the mess.
When nothing else comes away on the tissues, I look to the mirror over the sink to check my work. I've been avoiding my own reflection. I don't know that I want to see the look on my face right now. I'm sure that when I see, what I've just done will be painted all over my features. Or I'll be unhappy. Or crying, and not realize it. Something, anything. I've tried avoiding myself all evening, and I can't do that when I'm staring myself in the face.
Except I'm not unhappy. The face looking back at me in the mirror is blushing, but I'm smiling. I hadn't even realized. My skin is clear. Only a damp spot on my hair marks what happened. Unexpectedly, I find myself wishing that I had looked before I cleaned everything up. For curiosity, if nothing else. Because even though I keep telling myself that this is a mistake, even though I know it's wrong, I liked doing that for him. That's why I wanted to touch him in the first place, and why I know I'll be thinking about those sounds he made for the next week. I've had idle daydreams about touching him, or doing things with him. But that's normal, isn't it? Doesn't everyone think about things like that? Those thoughts were nothing like reality...
And Jaeseop cannot know.
With that resolve in mind, I focus and wipe the smile off my face. One by one, the tissues are disposed of and I straighten out my clothes, adjusting my pants to hide what's left of my arousal. Steadying myself, I open the bathroom door and walk into the hall. Jaeseop is there waiting for me, leaning against the far wall. He's straightened his clothes out, successfully hiding any evidence of what we've done, but I can still see it. It's there, plain as day, in the way he's looking at me.
Ignoring that look, I stare at the wall behind him. "It's late."
That's true enough, even though I have no idea what time it is. It's definitely past midnight, and that's all that matters. I should leave while I still can. Before the heat still rolling through my body overrides my common sense. I'm fighting the urge to walk right over to him and pull him into another kiss. My body is admitting what I still refuse to fully acknowledge: I haven't had enough of him.
"Yeah, it's late," he agrees, watching me with his eyes warm. "Are you okay?"
I've walked away from him right after getting him off. Of course he's worried. I can't tell him that the reason I walked away is because I'm afraid of what I feel. My callous actions will cost me before tonight is over. Maybe they already have.
Am I okay? It's a good question. I'm not sure. He makes me feel something I've never felt, not even with Eli. That isn't okay. That isn't the way things are supposed to be, but feeling off-center doesn't mean that something is wrong. Even if what I'm doing is wrong. I still can't look at him.
"I'm okay," I tell him quietly. I don't think he believes me.
Jaeseop reaches for me, taking one of my hands in his own. His thumb brushes across the back of my fingers. For a moment, that warmth is all I can think about. "Kevin, do you want to be here?"
He can tell that I'm uneasy. He isn't pushing me. He's just asking, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. I could tell him right now that I'm uncomfortable, that I shouldn't be here. He's giving me a chance to leave. Maybe he can tell that this isn't right. I'm not sure, but I am sure about one thing. He cares about me. He's worried about me. And if I'm to believe what he's been telling me for years, he loves me.
Maybe it's selfish, but right now I need to feel loved. Right now, I need him.
"I want to be here."
Glancing at him for the first time since I came out of the bathroom, I can see him considering my words. The serious look on his face melts a little when his eyes meet mine. He smiles, the smallest upturning of the corners of his lips. "Come to bed."
Somehow, I don't think he's planning on just going to sleep. I already said that I'd stay, and with what I've done, I'm running out of excuses to resist him.
Fingers on the side of my face pull me out of my thoughts, bringing my attention back to him and the way he's watching me as he waits for a response. His hand drifts down my neck, making the skin just over the collar of my shirt tingle. There's momentary hesitation, and then his hand slides down my chest. He tugs on my shirt, urging me closer. I'm surprised by the way that my entire body presses into his touch, looking for more than that simple caress. Is this how it's supposed to be when you're with someone? I always thought that wanting someone was ninety percent mental, but right now my body is doing the thinking for me.
This is still a mistake, and we both know it. Knowing that it is, however, doesn't change the fact that I'm nodding, turning and letting him slide his arm around my waist. He leads me back to the bedroom, guiding me down onto the bed. He's being careful and considerate with everything he does. Knowing that this is wrong does not make me stop him from pulling my shirt off, or protest when he leans in to kiss me again, tilting my head so he can run his lips down my throat and onto my shoulder. He pushes me back down onto the covers, and I can't seem to stop myself from reaching for him, pulling him with me.
All of that take from earlier is gone. He isn't pulling me to him, or asking me to touch him. Instead, it's him touching me now, running his hand across my bare stomach and raising nervous enjoyment in every inch of my skin that those fingers of his tease. Under any other circumstances, the way he's touching me would probably tickle. Right now, all it's doing is adding to the heat that is concentrating around us.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. His hand slides down onto the fabric of my pants, his words and touch combining in a sudden burst of hesitation in my chest.
"Don't say things like that."
Immediately, I reach for his wrist and stop him from touching. He looks at me, surprised. The warm, happy glow from a moment ago flickers. I've been too harsh. I can't take the words back, but I can do something to help. My hand pulls away from his wrist and I reach for his shirt, tugging it up. The smile on his lips returns as he gets the idea, tugging the shirt off with his own two hands.
We're both half-dressed, partially lit in the thin light from his lamp, and suddenly I remember how much I like it when he doesn't put a shirt on. He isn't incredibly cut, or particularly artistically sculpted like some of the fans would like to think, but that doesn't change the fact that I like looking. But I've never been able to touch him like this before, the way I want. He responds with a content murmur when my fingers find his skin and feel his warmth. His skin is so soft. I didn't think I would like something as simple as touching him like this, but it's strangely pleasing to me.
"Baby," he says, "I like it when you touch me like that."
His words do funny things to my stomach. Leaning up, I kiss him, hoping to stop more of those confusing words from leaving his lips. He responds by sliding over top of me, pressing into my hands and lowering himself against my body. His mouth on mine is hot, giving and taking all at once. His tongue brushes across my lips, and then something else brushes up against me further down as he presses close. He's aroused again, already firm and wanting. But he doesn't press, doesn't ask for more. He just kisses me, holding me as he rocks slowly against me on his bed.
And then it hits me: he's moving slow. He's taking things easy, not rushing, and I find myself confused. Is this because I've been hesitant since the moment I showed up? The fact that I came here in the first place should say enough, even though I've considered leaving more than once. For the first time in the evening, I don't think I want him to move slowly. Not when the way he's rocking against me is making me want more of him.
Pulling back from our kiss, I tilt my head and instantly feel his lips on my jaw again. I'm panting. "Touch me."
Jaeseop groans, and that's the only indication I get that he's heard what I said. After a moment, I get another kind of confirmation as one of the hands pressed against my stomach slides lower, tickling a shallow path down my belly and onto my pants. For a second, his fingers pull away and I feel nothing. And then he touches, and I'm feeling so much as his fingers cup me, his palm rubbing through fabric.
A moan leaves my lips and I can't stop myself from arching a little off the bed, my body responding to him automatically. He doesn't stop. He just moves his mouth lower, sucking on my neck. I seriously hope he doesn't leave any marks, but I can't think straight enough to care as that hand around my cock starts stroking at the same time that he bites down on my collarbone. Why is he so good at this?
"Kevin, I want..." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I want you. I want to take care of you. Please, can I...?"
He doesn't have to finish the question. My body is responding for me, all lust and electricity and want. He's the reason for this, and that's why I'm blushing.
"Take me," I say roughly. The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I'm saying. That probably wasn't what he was going to ask. I'm sure he was just going to ask to touch me. More than he already is, I mean. But that's not all I want.
My response seems to be the right answer, but it feels wrong as he pulls away from me, sitting back as my arms fall away from his shoulders. And then I see why as his hands fumble with the button on my pants, fingers sliding underneath the waistband and tugging them off. My briefs follow quickly.
I don't even remember him taking the time to remove his own clothes, but when he presses me back against the bed again, it's hot skin against hot skin as our legs tangle together. He smirks when he sees me looking him up and down, admiring more than I probably should. But then the opportunity to look is gone as he kisses me, his lips and tongue claiming me again. He grinds his hips down against mine, and there's nothing polite about this. I am completely lost in the feel of his mouth and body. His fingers squeezing my hip are enough to steal all reason, especially when he drags his tongue across my teeth.
He pulls back, licking his lips as though he likes the way I taste. "Is this okay?"
I'm not sure how he expects me think, but he's still asking the question. He moves back a little, giving me room to think. One of his legs is between both of mine. Between that and his free hand sliding between my thighs, I get the message. He wants me to spread my legs. He wants to touch more. He could have gone ahead without asking, but he's checking to make sure that I'm really okay with this. He's too nice. He's too considerate. I wish he'd be more of an asshole, because this is going to be a lot harder when we're finished thanks to him.
Shoving that thought aside, I nod. "Go ahead.
He leans in and kisses me again, short and sweet. When he pulls away this time, it's to reach for the drawer on his nightstand. He tugs it open, reaching inside to fish around for something. His hand emerges a few seconds later with a small, plastic bottle. Personal lubricant. Of course. We'll need that, but I don't want to watch when he pops the cap open and upends the bottle. Instead, I focus on running my hands down over his chest and across his stomach. His smooth skin is warm under my fingertips. I love the way he shivers when I thumb across his nipples.
This is a distraction, one that works all too well. He catches me by surprise when his slick, wet fingers reach between my legs. The lube drips down my balls as his fingers slide further back. The tip of one of his fingers bushes up against my ass, barely touching as he gets a feel for me. He's waiting, making certain yet again that I want this. I'm still in a state of disbelief that I've actually come here, and that we are in this kind of position. Even so, there's no doubt in my mind as to whether or not I want this.
When I nod, he presses that finger inside, offering an awkward sort of pressure as he works his digit into me. Any more questions he might have are gone, overshadowed by what he's doing. A second finger joins the first, and I wrap my arms around him as best I can from the odd angle, trying to find something to hold onto.
Holding onto him is useless when he pushes a third finger into me. That isn't just awkward; it stings. Sensing my discomfort, Jaeseop presses kisses to my chest, murmuring quiet endearments I don't want to hear. My fingers clutch at his skin, but he slides out of my grasp as his lips move lower. Then, I forget entirely about those three fingers buried deep inside of me. His mouth is wrapped around my cock, tongue teasing my entire length as he takes me into his throat with no hesitation. He begins to pulse up and down my length, sucking and squeezing in a way that makes the room go dim around the edges for me. Those fingers of his come back with a vengeance, stroking me from the inside, and the combination is unlike anything I've felt before. Sparks of heat shoot up from somewhere deep in my belly.
His fingers brush against something sensitive inside of me and I'm shouting. "Jaeseop!"
Those lips of his pull back, his tongue flicking under the head of my cock. I chance a look down at him and find him watching me, his warm eyes sending another bolt of electricity through me. He holds my gaze as he slides my length back into his mouth, and it's maybe the hottest thing I've ever seen.
"Oh God," I breathe heavily, feeling my body rushing as he begins to take me quickly again, "I'm... I'm going to..."
The heat is gone. His fingers stay where they are, but his mouth is suddenly at my ear. He laughs breathlessly and presses a kiss to my cheek. "Not yet," he tells me.
"Jaeseop," I groan, frustrated and hanging on the edge. "That's not fair! I let you c--"
"Not yet," he murmurs, cutting me off. "I want to be inside you when you come."
The words are dirty and burning hot, sending another searing flash of heat through me. He's saying things like that, but he still hasn't taken another step towards making that happen. He just kisses my cheek, nibbling at my ear as he slides his fingers out of me. My body presses up against him in one.
"Hang on, baby," he whispers, pulling back and reaching for his nightstand again.
This time, his fingers emerge with a foil packet: a condom. Why does he even have them ready like this? An uncomfortable surge of jealousy beats through my heart for half a second at the thought that he might be seeing someone else, or at least be sleeping with someone else. But jealousy doesn't make any sense, not when I don't love him. Or like him. Or want anything from him beyond sex. Especially not when I've got someone else that I'm with. Someone I care about. Someone I don't want to think about right now.
Acting on impulse, I reach out and grab his wrist before he can retrieve the condom. He blinks down at me in confusion. My mouth opens, but words don't come out. I don't know how to tell him what I'm wanting; I don't want anything in the way when I feel him. If I'm doing this, just once, I want all of it. Slowly, I just shake my head and pray that he'll get the idea.
"Are you sure?" he asks. I nod. I don't really think there's much of a risk. I don't want to know if there's a risk. I just want him. That thought is overriding common sense for me right now.
Hesitating for only a second, he nods and drops the offending item back into his nightstand drawer, sliding it closed. Then, all of his attention is back on me once more.
"God, I want you," he whispers, leaning in to kiss me. His hands are already reaching to push my legs apart as he slides between him.
Jaeseop hovers over me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. The length of his arousal presses into my hip as he drags his tongue across my lips, then leans in for a slow kiss so emotional that I have to pull away. I can't feel that. I can't feel that with him.
"Still okay?" he asks, moving his lips to my neck instead. He doesn't comment on my pulling away.
Is it okay? He's framing me against the mattress. My hands are sliding down his back again, and there's a part of me that wouldn't mind just having him hold me like this for a long while. But there's another part of me that wants more. More, and that's exactly what we're getting ready to do. He's going to take me like this, in this intimate position. This is too personal, too familiar and romantic. I had halfway hoped he would push me down onto the mattress stomach-first or something, anything so that I wouldn't have to see his face while we do this. I should have known better; he wouldn't allow something that impersonal for our first time. Our only time.
That doesn't matter. This is just one time. Only this once. I nod, and that's apparently all the permission he needs as he slides his own legs a little further apart. He pushes my hips up as he reaches down to position himself. I can feel the head of his cock brushing against me, tempting and solid. He holds himself there, and from the look on his face, I'm sure I don't want to know what he's thinking. But then those cat-eyes open and look down at me, and all I can feel is warmth as he murmurs my name. He leans in to kiss me again and, with that, he pushes into me.
His lips taking mine, devouring my mouth in a way that's somewhere between overwhelming and emotional. And the feel of him pushing deeper into my body. I've never felt anything like this. He's hitting every single nerve at the same time that he's completely stretching my skin, pushing me to my limits. I can't help it; I cry out against his mouth, my hands flying from his back to the sheets of his bed, clawing at the fabric. It doesn't hurt, not really. It just stings. It stings, and I can feel all of him. I can feel the way he's thrusting into me, small strokes pushing him further every time. And I can feel his heartbeat. I can even feel how ragged his breath is against my shoulder when he can't go any further.
"Jaeseop." His name is the only word I can think clearly. "Jaeseop."
He pulls away from my shoulder, pressing shaky kisses to the side of my face, my hair, everywhere he can reach. He isn't asking if I'm okay. He doesn't ask if it hurts. He just waits for me to calm down.
"Finally," he breathes, kissing my jaw. "Kevin..."
One of his hands brushes its way down the side of my face, most of his weight resting against my chest. The fingers on my skin are a distraction from the pressure I'm feeling elsewhere as I try to get used to the feeling.
Jaeseop is touching me softly, stroking my skin. His hand makes its way south as his lips press against my throat. He's trying to take care of me, I realize, just like he promised. He makes good on that as he lifts himself off me far enough to slide his hand between us, wrapping his fingers around my erection. One breath, then he's stroking me, slowly but it's more than enough to distract me from the pressure of his dick inside of me.
My breath speeds up as he thumbs over the head of my cock. He does it again, and I let out a soft cry. With that, he begins to pull out, leaving me feeling incredibly empty. But then he's pushing back into me and all thoughts in my head vanish, replaced by him.
Every motion is bold, but it's so gentle that I can feel the care behind what he's doing. I may be indecisive, thinking too much and still not quite lost to this heat between us, but that isn't the case for him. Even though I'm trying to tell myself that I don't care about him, he's right here with me, making me feel good. He's succeeding; I can't get enough of him right now.
I can't hide all of these feelings rushing through my body. My fingers tense against his skin and my lips find his shoulder, tasting sweat as I pull him down against me. He feels amazing. All of him, from the way he's panting in my ear to those quick hands of his still stroking my dick.
"Baby," he whispers, "I need you so much."
They're only words, but they turn me on so much more. I've never had sex like this before. Like the person I'm with actually means it, like they're here because they... love me. I'm used to rough, quick sessions that end too early. Or maybe something hurried in the mornings to relieve a little tension. That isn't this. This is something completely new. The way that Jaeseop is moving, it's slow and sweet, like he's taking his time. My body is moving, too, pulling him closer every time I roll my hips. My nails dig into his shoulder and back, tugging him closer. He follows my lead, pushing into me heavier every time I rock up against him.
"More," I beg, tightening my hold on him again.
In response, he slips out of my hold with a grunt, pulling away completely. His body pulls free of mine, and I can't stop the shout that leaves my lips. My entire body is unhappy with the sudden lack of connection between us.
Half a second later, he leans over me once again. "Sorry, baby," he says. "Lift your hips."
The unhappy pout doesn't leave my face as I do what he asks, glaring at him mildly. The happy, stupid smile on his lips is only infuriating for a second. He shoves a thick pillow under my hips, and then I don't have a chance to protest or ask what he's doing. As soon as I'm settled on the pillow, he's hovering over me again, pushing up against me and then pushing into me and oh. If I thought I felt full before, it was nothing compared to this. I can feel all of him as he presses deeper, hitting all the right places as he moves. And then he hits something completely different, and I'm crying out.
"Right there?" he asks, panting. "Like that?"
I don't even know how he can think clearly enough to ask. Nodding as best I can, I let out another muffled shout as he rocks into me again, hitting that same spot dead-on. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he's making me completely lose my mind. He doesn't say a word when my fingers dig into his back, sliding across slick skin to hold him close. He just lets out my name in a heavy groan, panting against my shoulder again as he picks up the pace. He isn't just taking me. He's claiming me, driving me straight back into the mattress, all of that sweet slowness from before forgotten.
His lips find mine, stealing desperate kisses as the pillow under my hips comes askew. We're both burning, caught up in this fire. I've never felt this completely overwhelmed by anyone. His name is falling from my lips as he takes me, and I can feel my body rushing towards the finish.
"Shit. Shit. Fuck, Kevin..."
I'm apparently not the only one. I don't need a Jaeseop-to-Korean dictionary to tell me what that means. My arms tighten around him. Every inch of my skin is crawling with the need to release, but his hand on me loosens and pulls away. His hips slow, barely moving as he pants heavily against my skin. Surely, he didn't...
"Sorry, baby. I'm... not ready to stop feeling you yet," he pants. I can tell how much effort it takes for him to stay still like this. He's shaking. "Can we... just... stay like this? Just for a minute. I just want to..."
Feel you, I finish silently.
There has been nothing slow about tonight, and yet I can't seem to find the will to protest. I know what he's doing. I have offered him this much. I can't begrudge him this small favor. His sweat-slick skin smells sweet as I lean forward to kiss his shoulder. That's the most coherent reaction I can possibly give, though I can't stop the impatient whine that accompanies it. My eye slide closed and I let myself feel the warmth as he presses a kiss to my shoulder.
He's still rocking into me, moving against that one place that feels so incredibly good. I think I can see what he means. This is the one chance I will have to know what it's like to feel him like this. I will never hold him in my arms again, or feel his lips on my skin. He'll never touch me this way after tonight. If I want to remember what it feels like, this is my chance. I need to enjoy being with him like this before the chance is gone.
And then the quiet moment has passed. Jaeseop can only hold his composure for half a minute before he's pushing into me again, gaining momentum with every thrust. It doesn't matter how much closeness either of us might need, I know that this is it. The end run. I can feel it with every nerve in my body as he tangles our tongues together in a heated kiss.
My arousal brushes against his stomach with every pass. The sound of his hips slamming into mine is driving me higher, but I need more. Pulling one of my hands away from the shoulder, I slide it between us and wrap my fingers around my arousal, helping myself out. As soon as my fingers hit skin, they're brushed out of the way.
"Let me," Jaeseop says, replacing my hand with his own. My fingers find their way to his arm, and his fingers begin pumping in time with his hips.
I won't last long. Not with how turned on I am, and not with the way my entire body seems focused completely on him. He's all I can think about, all I can feel. He wanted me and, right now, he has all of me. He's holding me and keeping me with the way that he's kissing me and pounding me into the mattress. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, counting the seconds before I am completely overwhelmed. And then, all of the pleasure that I'm feeling twists into pure, white heat as I go over the edge, completely losing my mind.
He keeps moving, that hand on my cock still stroking me as he pushes into me a final time, grunting my name against my lips. A warm pulse of heat inside of me, and then he's gone, too. His entire body shudders and we both let out another moan.
I'm still floating as I come down off cloud nine. The air around us is cold as ice, the only heat coming from his body as he rolls to the side, pulling me with him to cradle me in his arms. Slowly, those fingers pull away from my dick. He wipes his hand on the sheet, then wraps one of his arms around my waist, the other reaching up to act as a pillow, his fingers trailing through my hair.
Jaeseop doesn't protest when I pull away a few inches, feeling him slip free from my body. I don't want to think about how empty I feel now that we've finished. Only, we haven't finished. Not entirely. He reaches for me as I turn over, facing away from him to try and stare at the wall. His arm wraps around my waist again and his chest molds itself to my back as he slides up against me. I love the way it feels, him holding me like this. I have never felt this cherished before, the way he's brushing his fingers down my side and pressing small kisses to my hair, my cheek, even my shoulder. I shouldn't feel this way at all, not with anyone except...
"Baby," he whispers, "I love you."
I have heard him say those words a thousand times. Each time was more inappropriate than the last, but here in this room they seem completely sincere. They make me feel warm from the inside-out, like they mean something. That's enough to bring reality crashing down. I've been lying here, letting myself feel his warmth, and I can't. I can't respond to his words, and I can't stay here in my arms, feeling so completely content. I just can't do this anymore, because it's not right to feel so right.
"I need to leave," I tell him. The words take more effort than they should. I doubt that was the reaction he was hoping for. His hand tightens minutely around my stomach.
"Kevin?" he says concernedly. I don't give him a response.
I feel like I'm about to start crying. The tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes, and for the dumbest reason. I know that I shouldn't be here, but I'm completely content like this. I like the way that he's holding me, and I like the way that he's holding me close even though I pulled away. He seems to know what I need, but I don't know that I have ever felt this warm, loved, or cared for. All during a stupid one night stand as a result of my own bad decision making.
I love being with him like this, and I hate that because I know that I shouldn't feel that way. I shouldn't be completely happy, lying here against his chest, not when I have someone else that I am with. Eli. The person I love. It should be his fingers holding my hips, not Jaeseop's. But Eli has never made me feel this way. He has never made me feel so completely satisfied, or wanted, the way that Jaeseop does. Knowing that only makes me hate this more. This isn't the way things are supposed to be.
All of my willpower is required to reach for his hand and peel his fingers away from my skin. My muscles protest as I move to sit up slowly, testing my own equilibrium. Tears sting hotly against my cheeks, finally spilling over. I can't quite stand up yet, but I can scoot a few inches away to put some distance between us. I should tell him. He deserves to know that I've lied, but even without it, I'm sure my quick departure is enough. I'm already anticipating the reaction I'm sure is coming; anger, confusion, sadness. He doesn't handle things like this well, and I'm sure it will be worse since it's me. My mental walls are going up, preparing for the barrage. It never comes.
"Fuck..." Jaeseop sighs. It's not a shout, not a growl. It's barely a sound at all. "You guys didn't break up, did you?"
He knows. He knows. He doesn't even sound surprised. I can't bring myself to respond, I just stare at his floor, imagining that I can see the cracks in the wood slats as I shake my head. He sighs again.
"Did you even have a fight?" he asks. I don't like the tone of his voice; it isn't accusatory or even angry. He's just trying to understand.
I don't understand. I expected him to be furious. I shake my head again, but it isn't just my head that's shaking. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the tremors as the tears intensify. "I'm sorry, Jaeseop. I'm so sorry. I... I know how bad this looks, but I didn't mean..."
"Shh." There's a warm hand on my shoulder. I only get a heartbeat to recognize the feeling before Jaeseop's arms wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me into a warm hug. "Hush. Calm down, baby. Just calm down. Please don't cry."
I have just done the worst thing I possibly can. I used him. And I lied, even if by omission. And even with all of that, he's still trying to comfort me. Right now, I need that more than anything. His fingers are a soothing balm, rubbing soft circles into my skin as I turn and cry my eyes out against his shoulder. I only stay there for a few seconds. I want to stay forever. But I can't. I can't give him hope. I can't make him think this is anything more than sex, or that I mean anything by it. None of this is right. I can't make it worse than it has to be for either of us. The weight of what I've done is killing me. I don't know how I'll ever be able to look him in the eye again.
"Don't." Pulling away, I try and fail to control my tears. "I... don't touch me."
If he keeps touching me, I won't be able to leave. It's difficult enough without him further adding to my emotional distress. Even with the distance between us, I swear I can almost feel his lips and hands on my skin.
Behind me, Jaeseop says something, but I don't catch the words. I don't want to hear them. Instead, I dig my fingers into the sheets on the bed, jerking until one of them comes loose. Wrapping the material around my body, I try uselessly to hide my nakedness. Modesty doesn't matter, not that it ever really has within our group of co-workers, but it's the only protection I have right now. Not from him. I don't think I need to be afraid of Jaeseop. I never will. But right now, I am afraid of myself.
He will hate me when I leave. But I knew that when I came here, didn't I? Maybe I was kind of hoping that might be part of the solution. If he hates me, I won't have to live with what I've done. I won't have to avoid him; he'll do that for me. That thought burns far more than it probably should. I don't want him to avoid me. I don't want him to hate me. But that's the only way any of this can ever make sense.
My feet feel like lead weights as I stand up, clutching the sheet to my chest. I need to get dressed. That requires clothing, but none of my clothes are on this side of the bed. Or, at least, I can't see them in the light from Jaeseop's lamp. He must have... I mean, they must be on the other side, where he is. I don't want to ask him to hand them to me, but I also don't want to have to walk over to that side of the bed and see him. I guess I don't have a choice.
Each step is heavy as I pad around the end of the bed, avoiding the hope chest as I try not to think about what I'm doing. Five steps is all it takes to bring me around to the mess on the floor. I can't tell what's mine and what's his. Was he even still wearing a shirt when we got in here? Doesn't matter. I'll just take everything. I can toss what's his in the hamper in his bathroom.
Pile of clothing safely in my arms, I move to stand up and leave, but I'm stopped by the feel of his hand on my wrist. There's no point in asking what he's doing. I didn't really think he was just going to let me walk away in the first place.
"I don't care," he tells me. His voice isn't exactly flat, but it's still not angry.
He doesn't care? How can he not? What I've done is unforgiveable. I won't point that out. Instead, I'll ask something mindless and play dumb. I'm good at that. "What do you mean?"
"That you're still with him." He swallows, and I wonder if his throat is as dry as mine right now. "I don't give a shit that you guys didn't actually break up. I kind of thought... I mean, you coming over here is weird. Really weird. And, Kevin, you aren't a great liar. I'm not happy about it, but..."
He's rambling. For someone who doesn't talk much, he's just spoken volumes. My fingers twitch around the cold fabric in my hands. I guess it's his turn to be upset.
"Why wouldn't you care?" I ask. This is something I actually want to know. It's not empty like everything else I've done and said tonight. We're all going to wind up burning for this. I guess I might as well know why.
Without wanting to, I look over at him. He's looking straight back, meeting my eyes determinedly. "Because even if it's like this, at least I get to know what it's like to be with you. I want to be here for you. That's all I've ever wanted. And I don't think you were lying when you said you wanted me. You told me that you needed me. Was it true?"
Yes. It's still true. I can't look at him anymore.
"No. That was a lie, too." My eyes find the floor again. The discarded bottle of lube has tumbled off; I can see the cap just under the edge of the bed. "I don't want you. And I can take care of myself. I just needed... someone."
I know that I wouldn't believe me if I heard those words. They're thin and weak, kind of like how I feel right now.
Jaeseop tugs on my wrist, guiding me to sit on the bed next to him. I won't look him in the eye but, as always, he seems to know what I need. Running a thumb down the side of my face, he brushes away what's left of my tears just like he did earlier. Then, he frames my jaw with his hands. He doesn't bother to ask for permission. He just leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet, like he's telling me a secret. When he pulls back, it's far enough to give me space in which to think.
"Just stay," he tells me. "Things are a mess, but... you can sort them out tomorrow. Things will look better in the morning."
I want to tell myself that staying will just make things worse, but I've already agreed. I said yes earlier. I told him I would stay, even though I've been protesting uselessly for most of the night. I wonder who I'm fighting more, him or me.
"What if they don't?"
"Then we'll figure them out," he promises. "For now, just worry about tonight."