Wingman
Title: Wingman
Pairing: Haehyuk
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, angst
Summary: Donghae and Hyukjae are best friends. Donghae and Hyukjae don't really know anything about each other at all.
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Erotic.
I've racked my mind, thinking again and again of a word that describes our relationship. The word that I try to repress, the one that suits us best, it's erotic.
You're Lee Hyukjae. You're hot. You're sexual. You're rich. You're also my best friend. You buy me things, you take me places, you let me in on all of your little secrets. I let you in on all of my secrets as well, except for two.
My first secret is that I'm not innocent. I tell you I don't want to go out, that I'd rather stay in. You think I prefer a nice, quiet single life. You think that I find sex to be overrated and that watching porn is enough to satisfy me. You laugh at me for it but you accept it.
My second secret is that nothing in the world turns me on as much as you do. The reason I don't want to go out with you at night is because seeing you with someone else will probably give me a painful erection in public. You showed me a sex tape you made once. You told me I had to see how hot she was in bed. I rolled my eyes and watched. What you don't know is that I made a copy and I watched it until the image of you naked and fucking some girl was burned into my mind forever.
To you, our relationship is nothing more than that of best friends. So you're begging me right now, telling me you need a wingman tonight. I tell you you don't need one but you insist so I give in.
The plan is simple. You'll find a girl, chat her up a bit, and then I'll come in, tell her all the great things about you that you can't seem to tell her yourself. Then I'll go home alone and you'll go home with her.
The problem is that you don't need me. You start talking to her, a girl with dyed brown hair and long legs, and she's totally into you. Within the hour you've got your tongue down her throat and your hands on her ass.
I leave without saying goodbye. I take a taxi home, running my hands along my thighs, feeling my cock straining against my underwear. I'm sweating, praying that I reach my apartment before I start touching myself in the back of a cab.
I make it through the door but that's as far as I get before I'm unbuckling my belt and unzipping my pants. I fall onto my couch, biting into a pillow and fisting my cock, imagining you taking her into the bathroom and fucking her over the sink. I come just as I imagine you screaming my name and then I go limp, crying myself to sleep in a pile of my own filth.
-
It's noon the next day when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Donghae? You took off last night, are you okay?”
You sound tired. It's obvious that you've only just woken up.
“I'm fine. You didn't seem to need my help so I left.”
“You didn't even go home with anyone?”
“No.”
“Donghae... I'm sorry. I thought you'd enjoy yourself.”
“Yeah, well... I didn't.”
There's a pause before you speak again.
“Let me make it up to you. We can hang out. Just the two of us.”
I pretend to think about it, pretend to not be eager before I agree.
“Fine.”
-
Of course your idea of hanging out is at a club. I hate clubs. I hate what you're wearing. I hate how much hotter it makes you look when you move, when you dance.
I order a drink while you run off to dance to your favorite song. When you come back, you eyes are focused seriously on a couple of girls at the end of the bar. I know that look. This isn't just going to be a night with us.
I drink until I'm ready for this. I'm ready to be attracted to a girl, to entice her. You make the first move, get them laughing. I follow, putting on a charming smile and easily winning over the girl I've set my eyes on. She's prettier than the girl you've picked, in my opinion. Long black hair, big eyes lined with black, thin waist with slight curves and a smile that rivals yours.
It's stupid to compare her to you. So I stop. I absorb myself in her and decide you don't exist. I dance with her, grinding our hips together, letting her teeth graze my ear and giving her a sexy smile I learned from you. I let her turn me on, I tell myself that the feeling isn't from watching you sucking on some girl's neck only a few heartbeats away from me.
You seem surprised when I'm suddenly confident, telling them your place has a hot tub and free drinks. But you go with it, leading the way back to your car, whispering to the girl on your arm, playfully biting her ear and smiling when she laughs drunkenly at the action.
We're all in our underwear, laughing and drinking champagne in the hot tub. The buzz from the alcohol and the hot water creating a pleasant comfort. I tell them about your work, about how much money you make, as if they can't already see by the size of your house. I'm a proper wingman tonight, and you look surprised, impressed by my sudden skills. I catch a hint of admiration in your eye before you return the favor, telling them lies about how successful I am.
Words turn into slurred nonsense and then I'm watching you kiss her, straining your neck, exposing your sharp jawline and neck veins as you lean to bite at her lips.
The girl next to me breathes against my neck, cold in contrast to the steam of the water. She climbs into my lap and I tear my eyes away from you to look at her, to feel her pushing against my chest, her wet arms circling around my neck. I place my hands on her waist, massaging hot skin under the water, and I kiss her.
When she pulls away to ask me where the bedroom is, you're already walking inside with the girl's legs wrapped around your body. And so I follow.
-
I only fuck her because watching you turned me on. Watching you always turns me on. From the moment you see, touch, kiss, I can see the sex in your eyes. The only thing you've been thinking about from the moment you saw the girl in the bar is fucking her. So I follow these thoughts as well.
She's beautiful, naked and lustful beneath me as I hold her legs apart and thrust. I tell her to be loud, to moan for me like a whore. She complies and I give it all back, telling her how hot this is, how hard I am for her. And it's not a lie, this is hot, but it's a miracle that I manage to focus on only her when I'm normally focusing on you.
I refrain from kissing her only so I can hear her cries of pleasure, so I can watch her face as she bites her lip and closes her eyes. She's vocal, telling me she wants it harder, faster and I barely manage to keep it together as I listen. It occurs to me that I don't even remember her name.
When I finally come she whines in frustration, telling me she still wants more. I pretend I'm spent, hiding a half-hard cock as I remove the condom.
But it's only fair to repay her, to make her feel as good as she made me feel. So I give her a sweet smile and she bites her lip in that perfectly seductive way that almost makes me fully hard again. Her stomach is soft as I trail my lips down; I feel her tense as my hands slide slowly along her thighs.
I smell the latex from the condom on her skin as I give an experimental lick. She responds with a soft moan so I continue, licking tenderly, pressing my tongue against her clit. Her moans become nothing but shaky breaths, my hands working to massage her thighs and hips in time with the movements of my mouth.
She tells me she's coming in a weak, almost cute voice and she gives one final moan as her orgasm reaches its peak. I lick my lips as I pull my head up and her cheeks are red as she tells me she's never come so hard in her life. I smile and tell her the same. This time it's a lie. I've come harder just thinking about you.
You. I've forgotten about you. Are you still fucking her? Is it good? I picture it and suddenly I'm hard again. Before the girl under me can notice, I tell her I need to use the restroom. I walk through the dark halls of your house until I reach it and just as I do, I hear a door close.
I turn and there you are, naked, approaching me with a partial erection and a lazy smirk.
You ask me what I'm doing and look me up and down as you lean against the wall. You ask if she was enough for me.
I look down, finding myself naked as well and realizing that you think she couldn't make me come. I sigh as if I'm bored. I tell you she got me hard again, that I need another condom. You open the door in front of me and turn on the light. You point to a drawer next to the sink so I open it and I almost laugh at how many you have.
You tell me to take as many as I need. Then you grab a box and head back to your room without another word.
When I make it back to my room, the girl is still naked, touching herself as if it's the most casual thing in the world. I tell her how sexy she is and even though I'm lying this time, she believes it, she smiles at me and tugs me closer. This time, when I'm thrusting into her and listening to her moan, I'm only thinking about you.
-
I can't quite remember the last hour of the night before as I wake up and see that it's already noon. I smile a little, realizing that this is how you must feel every day. The girl is gone, only a hint of perfume as evidence that she'd been there.
I steal a pair of your underwear, a tight, dark gray pair since they're the only ones I can find. I don't bother to put anything else on. My clothes smell of sex and alcohol so I leave them on the floor and make my way into the kitchen .
I practically drool when I find a fresh pot of coffee waiting to soothe my pounding head. The drool almost makes its way out of my mouth when I notice you bending over with your face stuck in the fridge and your ass in the air.
“I gave the girls money for a cab,” you say as you hear me come in, “they left pretty early.”
“Nice panties,” I say as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Do you have something for this color, or...”
You look up and realize that we're wearing the same underwear and you laugh. “They're comfortable. I have some in rainbow if you'd prefer those?”
I shake my head and smile as I drink, downing nearly half the cup and letting it burn my throat.
“So...” you start, “how was last night? Thinking maybe you could get used to this kind of thing?”
I set my cup down and stretch a little against the counter as I think.
“Maybe,” I say. “I guess it's not as bad as I thought.”
It's better to be in a room down the hall from you than on a completely different street. It's better to be with someone than to be alone. It's better to wake up and have coffee with you in the kitchen than to wake up with dried tears on my cheek and my hand covered in my own semen.
“I have to work for the next few nights but maybe we can do this again this weekend?” You smile. “You make a good wingman.”
I smile back and finish my coffee. “I think you make a better wingman for me than I do for you.”
I borrow some clothes from you and steal a banana before I leave, making my way outside to catch a taxi. I groan when I make it to the street and realize I'd left my wallet and phone inside.
When I make it back to your house, the door is unlocked so I let myself in. I throw away my banana peel and head for the room I'd stayed in last night. It's quiet until I reach the door, until I hear the sound of a familiar moan and a whisper of my name. I open the door and find you, still in your underwear, leaning back on the bed, propped up on your elbows. The television is on and it's showing me, fucking the nameless girl from last night.
“You filmed me?” I say unbelievably and you jump up immediately.
“I, uh...” you stammer, “I didn't think you'd mind?”
My hangover headache resurfaces as the video continues. I want to yell at you because what you did was wrong and stupid. But you're just a little bit hard and I know I'd heard something above the moans of the girl, something that didn't come from the video.
“Why did you say my name?” I ask sternly. You turn off the video and stand and try to cover yourself with your hands. I push your hands away, holding them at your sides.
You're suddenly so vulnerable, seemingly so small and afraid against the grip of my hands. You look at me and for the first time I see you looking at someone without explicit lust.
There's a fear in your eyes and in the tremble of your lips as you kiss me. Your wrists tense in my hands as your fists clench in frustration because I'm not kissing back.
“Dammit, Donghae!” you yell and I don't know why. You don't sound mad. You sound disappointed. So I let go of your wrists and watch your disappointment grow.
I raise my hands to hold your cheeks and I kiss you. I kiss you so much harder than you kissed me. You breathe and grip the arms of the shirt that belongs to you. I push you hard and you look up at me from the bed, confused and maybe a little adorable.
I don't let your confusion last long although I want to. I press myself down against you, kissing you again, feeling the naked skin of your arms and chest against my fingers. And you whimper, you wrap your arms around me like I'll leave you if you let go.
I taste coffee on your tongue, mixing with the sweet taste of banana on my own. You kiss me so desperately I doubt you can taste it; you probably only taste me. I hold my palm to your cheek gently, coaxing you to slow down until our breaths are calm and our mouths are sore.
I pull away to brush my nose against yours, to feel you breathe against me.
“You're shaking,” I whisper when I feel your body trembling slightly against me.
“Because I want...” you start, “I don't know how to want this much.”
You're so flustered that you don't know what to say and your words hardly make sense but I understand perfectly. Because you're feeling the way I feel every night when I go to sleep.
“Me either,” I say and I smile just enough to let you know I mean it.
You smile too, and your hand runs along my chest and around my shoulder and down my arm. So I sit up to take my shirt off before I slowly lean down to press my chest against yours. Your skin is warm and soft and your heart is beating just as fast as mine.
I press my lips to your throat, leave a trail of kisses along your jaw to your ear and you're pulling me closer to you with every second. We're pressed tightly together as I breathe into your ear and your hips move involuntarily against mine and you cry out a desperate moan that I've never heard before.
And suddenly I know that I turn you on the way you turn me on, and the thought is too much.
“I want you,” I mumble before I move with the intention of kissing you as harshly as possible.
“Wait,” you breathe before I can reach your lips. I look at you and you look at the screen and I realize that you don't want this to happen in this room.
You push me away and then pull me down the hall, to a room I've never been in before. It's a bedroom, decorated in whites and browns and blacks but there's no time to admire the colors because you're pulling down my pants and I'm pulling you to the bed once we're both in matching underwear once again.
You smile when you straddle me, when you lean down to kiss every part of my chest you can reach. I mirror your smile and run my hands through your hair and down your back, admiring you, finally.
“Donghae,” you whisper as you kiss me, as you let your hips tease mine. I tease back, my hands finding your ass and grinding you down against me.
“God your ass is so perfect,” I groan against your lips and you laugh, accepting my compliment by biting and tugging on my lip.
You moan out the words “I want to taste you” and before I can process what that means, you're pulling my underwear down and your lips are around my cock and I'm gasping because I swear one flick of your tongue could make me come. I breathe your name and you moan around me and my hands fist so hard in your hair that it must hurt.
“Fuck, Hyukjae, you're gonna make me come,” I whimper and you stop with a smirk on your face.
“Already?” You ask huskily, your fingers lazily tugging at my cock. “Do I turn you on that much? It took you so much longer to come last night.”
I glare as you bite your lip in a way you think is cute. You know you turn me on so much more than her and your smugness is so hot I want to hit you. Instead, I wrestle you down and practically rip your underwear off before I sink my mouth down onto your cock. You still pretend to struggle so I hold your legs until your body is limp and you're moaning. I suck as I bob my head and it only takes a few seconds for you to scream in protest.
“Okay,” you yell, “I get it!”
I grin and pull away slowly, watching you trying as hard as you can to hold back an orgasm.
“You can come if you want,” I mumble against your thigh, “I'm sure I can make you hard again.”
I'm smirking until I feel something hit me in the head before falling against the sheets. I blink at a bottle of lube and a condom before I look at you.
“Lie down so I can fuck you,” you say and I shiver. The cocky Hyukjae is back, staring at me, waiting for me to obey. I almost do, until I remember that I have just as much power over you as you do over me.
“Are you sure that's what you want?” I ask, leaning in to brush my lips over yours. “Didn't you like what you saw earlier? Don't you want to be like her? Writhing under me while I fuck you... come on, take a break from being in control and let me make you scream.”
I can practically feel you turn into a shivering mess of goo at my words. You're silent, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. You spread your legs, fully submissive, and I smile before I kiss away your worries.
It's easy to fit three slick fingers inside of you because you're ready for this. You tell me you are, over and over as I finger you, pushing deep but not deep enough. Your arms are holding a small pillow to your chest. You're watching my fingers move as you squeeze the pillow tightly to your chest. I can tell it doesn't hurt; the only thing that hurts is how painfully hard the both of us are.
I finally pull away and quickly put the condom on, using a little extra lube just to make sure. I want to pull the pillow away from you so I can watch you as I push in but I let you keep it because I know it's comforting you. I push in as slowly as possible, watching your hands grip the pillow more and more tightly.
“Dongh...” you start and I freeze. Suddenly you throw the pillow aside. “Just push in all the way and get it over with! It hurts!”
Even though I'm afraid it will hurt you more, I thrust in all the way and you scream, your arms flying to grip my shoulders, your legs wrapping tightly around me and your eyes squeezing shut. I briefly think about apologizing but you're so tight and hot that all I can do is move, rolling my hips to feel my cock slide in and out of you.
Your screams become filled with pleasure so I press deeper and deeper, listening to the rise and fall of your moans. I lean down to grip the sheets and steady myself, repeating your name again and again as I fuck you.
My name sounds so much sweeter on your tongue and your moans drive me over the edge more quickly than anything ever could. I know I can't lost long when you're the one under me, begging me to fuck you, crying out so loudly that the world can hear.
You're beautiful underneath me, your pale skin contrasting with your heated cheeks, your eyes filled with pleasure and your mouth falling open with moans as your head thrashes to the side in a moment of ecstasy when I ram into your prostate.
I don't know how to speak any more so I kiss you, taste you, press as close as I can to you as my breath leaves my lungs and I feel myself reaching the edge. I scream silently against your lips as I come, rolling my hips through my orgasm and you reach your hand to pump your cock until you come as well, shaking as you spill onto your skin.
We're breathless, unmoving from our positions. You bring a hand up to run it through my hair and caress my cheek, petting me affectionately because you have no words and neither do I. Even when I can breathe again, I don't move, staying on top of you, inside of you, and you don't mind at all.
“Donghae,” you say finally, weakly, “I don't know how you feel about us but... I think I'm in lust with you.”
I have to think for a moment before I laugh with the tiny bit of air I have in my lungs and kiss you.
“We must feel differently because...” I start, watching your face go blank, “I'm deeply, deeply in lust with you.”
-