hold your breath (it gets better)
Originally posted by queenbee_12 at hold your breath (it gets better)
Title: hold your breath (it gets better)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: KrisSoo
Genre: a/b/o, smut, romance
Summary: Three years, they’ve been together, but they’ve never done this.
Warnings: a/b/o, self-lubrication, rimming, light bondage/sensation play
Author’s Note: This is the companion piece to over, sideways, under. Written as a Christmas present for Ash. (There’s probably no one else in the world who could get me to write bottom!Kris.)
Yifan knows he doesn’t really have any reason to be nervous.
This is Kyungsoo. His mate of three years. The love of his life and his reason for day-to-day existence. No one else has ever understood him like Kyungsoo does, and he’s never understood anyone the way he understands Kyungsoo.
He doesn’t have any reason to be nervous. But as he climbs the stairs behind his mate, dragged by a small hand locked in a powerful grip on his wrist, and stares in stupefied lust at the most perfect ass in the world as heady wetness soaks into fabric before his eyes, Yifan finds the nervousness has him trembling so badly he can hardly walk.
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Yifan met Kyungsoo, at a singles mixer back when he was just barely out of university, it was love at first sight.
There he was, just sitting there. The most beautiful man in the world - or at least, the most beautiful Yifan had ever laid eyes on. Rose petal lips, skin like poured cream, eyes like molten chocolate and a pretty, slight body that made Yifan want to hold him and not let go.
The man Yifan was hanging out with, Jongdae, he’d met a few times at these things and was pretty chill, for an alpha. He looked where Yifan was looking and made a low noise of approval, eyes sliding over both the perfect man and the man with him. “Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured, and oh, did Yifan agree with that assessment. “Should we…?”
In the end, they did approach. And in a room full of people, all in varying stages of drunk and all with sex on their minds, individual scents were hard to catch. But when the beautiful man lifted his head to look at them, and Yifan caught a distinct whiff of sweet, terribly enticing omega, his heart sank.
Because with so many thick-knotted alphas panting after him, how could such an incredible omega ever choose a mild-mannered beta like Yifan?
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo is on him the moment the door locks, yanking at his shirt and leaning up to kiss him, dirty and sloppy. “Oh god,” he moans, a familiar hand dropping down between them to rub roughly at Yifan’s cock. It shocks Yifan, startles his hips into thrusting forward and a moan out of his chest. “I wasn’t expecting it to - fuck. Suck my cock, Yifan, please.”
This is why Yifan loves Kyungsoo more than anyone. Because Kyungsoo knows what he wants, and asks for it, and usually gets it.
And because when Yifan groans and falls to his knees obediently, Kyungsoo doesn’t deride him for letting an omega take him over.
><><><><><><><><><><><
In an act of extreme bravery, Yifan had slipped Kyungsoo his card as they parted ways after a night of what was apparently strictly platonic drunken snuggling. He’d expected that to be the end of it, right there, but to his surprise he did get a call a few days later.
The date was nothing more than coffee, and the small talk was...more comfortable than usual. Kyungsoo had an air of extremely un-omega-like confidence that immediately put Yifan at ease. For once, Yifan didn’t feel like his date was expecting him to lead the conversation.
It helped that his scent was smooth and intoxicating, clearly muted by suppressant pills but curling gently around Yifan’s brain all the same. Yifan wanted to bury his nose in Kyungsoo’s skin and breathe deep, to fill his lungs with him and roll around in him like a joyful puppy in sun-warmed grass.
He was certain his attraction was painfully, embarrassingly obvious, and he probably wasn’t giving a very good impression of himself. He answered Kyungsoo’s questions about his career, his background, his life with hesitant words borne of dreamy distraction. It wasn’t until Kyungsoo actually snapped his fingers at Yifan that he dragged himself back to reality.
“Look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me,” Kyungsoo ordered.
Yifan did, and found it did help him to focus.
Later, he found out that that was the moment when Kyungsoo decided he was worth a second chance - when he followed an omega’s command without a second thought.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo fucks into Yifan’s mouth with far more force than usual, deep and rough. But after so many years, Yifan has lots of practice at this, at pulling his lips in to cover his teeth and hollowing his cheeks, at angling his head just right and breathing through his nose so Kyungsoo can push easily down his throat. He looks up through the dyed-blond edges of his hair and admires how wrecked Kyungsoo already looks, flushed and panting and already on the verge of losing control. It’s exciting and it’s terrifying because it usually takes hours and hours of teasing before Kyungsoo comes close to being this gone, and Yifan knows this is only the beginning.
He’s afraid he won’t be able to keep up.
So he paces himself. He does not touch himself at all as Kyungsoo uses his mouth, though Kyungsoo’s overwhelmingly intoxicating scent is so strong and enticing that he thinks he could come from that alone. He tries not to let the pricks of pain in his scalp as Kyungsoo tugs on his hair get to him, tries to let his mate’s unusually urgent and impossibly sexy moans roll off his skin, instead of sinking into his body. In his lap, his ignored cock strains desperately upwards, but Yifan puts his own need out of his mind.
Kyungsoo is an omega in heat, his first heat in ten years. Who knows how much he will need from Yifan, how long this will last? And Yifan is not an alpha, with chiseled muscles and hours of stamina and the knot that Kyungsoo’s omega instincts must be screaming at him to find.
Yifan is just a beta. And Yifan is not certain he will be enough.
><><><><><><><><><><><
The first time Yifan and Kyungsoo kissed, Yifan tried to take the lead.
Kyungsoo kissed him first, pushing him up against a wall and raising on his toes to press firmly to Yifan’s mouth. It felt like heaven and Yifan wanted nothing more than to melt and let his new boyfriend take him over, but that’s not what omegas liked, that’s not what they wanted. Everyone knew that omegas needed to be controlled, to be dominated, taken care of by someone bigger and stronger and more in control of themselves. Even the ones that protested, the ones that fought back, deep down, they couldn’t win out over their hormones, their instinct to be filled up, claimed, owned.
That’s what Yifan had always been taught. What he’d seen in the media, heard about in music, seen in the relationship of his own parents and the relationships of those around him. So Yifan put strength into wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, into pulling him closer and devouring his mouth passionately.
Without a word, without even a sound, Kyungsoo snaked a hand up his back and fisted it into his hair, yanking Yifan’s head back. He was a lot stronger than he looked, and though Yifan could have fought it, was probably big enough and strong enough to force Kyungsoo to let go, he didn’t. He melted, he went limp, the fight leaching from his body even as the pain in his scalp made his cock leap. Kyungsoo kept kissing him, and Yifan passively let him, moving his mouth softly, letting tiny instinctive groans fall from lax lips when Kyungsoo nipped at them.
Kyungsoo released his grip, and Yifan opened his eyes to see pleased eyes and a smile like a shark. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo purred, and the intensity of the thrill the words sparked in him startled Yifan.
He had no idea what this was, what they were doing, why Kyungsoo was unlike any omega he’d ever heard of. But he didn’t try to take the lead again.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo, usually so tightly controlled, comes helplessly down Yifan’s throat in bare minutes, shuddering and gasping. He’s almost too beautiful to be real.
“Get on the bed,” he bites out, as Yifan swallows come. It tastes different today, sweeter and thicker, heavy with the hormones of Kyungsoo’s heat. Yifan thinks it could become addictive, if he let it.
Yifan stands, and pulls his shirt off in the same motion. It falls from his fingers as Kyungsoo lunges forward, attacking his collarbones with lips and teeth. His aching cock collides with Kyungsoo’s and finds his lover is still fully hard, dragging broken moans from both of them.
Even though Yifan is already backing up towards the bed, Kyungsoo pushes, because he always pushes. The rest of the clothes get lost on the way and when the edge of the mattress hits the backs of Yifan’s knees, he collapses easily, and it’s not clear whether Kyungsoo is pushing him down, or Yifan is pulling Kyungsoo on top of him. Either way, Kyungsoo ends up pressed along his side, bare skin smooth and hotter even than usual, and Yifan has no idea when he grabbed the lube but he’s already slicking his fingers up and pressing two into Yifan’s ass.
“Soo,” he gasps, as his mate expertly and relentlessly strokes him open. “But - I thought -”
He can’t make himself say it. It’s too strange a thing. I thought I would be fucking you.
Because he hasn’t, not ever.
But Soo wants a child, and truthfully Yifan does too, and so, here they are. His mate is off his meds and leaking both physically and hormonally, but still, it’s Yifan on his back with legs spread eagerly.
“We will,” Kyungsoo assures him breathlessly, responding to his unfinished thought. “But first. First. Oh, Yifan, please, I need you.”
Kyungsoo never begs. Kyungsoo asks, because he’s as concerned about Yifan’s pleasure as Yifan is about his, but Kyungsoo never, ever begs.
Yifan pulls him on top and wraps his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist, because how could he refuse?
><><><><><><><><><><><
They both wanted sex, that much was certain. It was impossible to miss the heaviness in Kyungsoo’s eyes when he trailed them over Yifan’s body, the way he licked his lips when he caught a glimpse of Yifan’s cock hard in his pants. (And around Kyungsoo, Yifan found himself hard a disproportionate amount of the time.)
But they didn’t broach the conversation of how, and it became obvious that they should have when they were naked and sprawled on the bed and there was an awkward struggle over whose thighs should be spreading. Kyungsoo finally held Yifan still with a hand on each knee and looked him in the eye.
“If we’re doing this,” he said, low and serious and straightforward, “then I am going to be inside you. Is that alright?”
Yifan had been fucked by alphas and betas, and had fucked betas and omegas. Not one of them made his insides quake the way just the thought of Kyungsoo fucking him did.
“Yes,” he breathed, and let the resistance seep from his body. “Yes, that’s perfect.”
Kyungsoo’s smile was wide and beautiful. “I’m surprised you didn’t already guess,” he noted as he plucked the lube from Yifan’s fingers and coated his fingers. “Considering what a pushy fucking bastard I am.”
It made Yifan chuckle. “I figured you’d be a power bottom, honestly,” he admitted. “Hold me down and ride me.”
Dark eyes flashed at his words, sharply looking up at him. Their gazes met for a long moment.
“Perhaps someday,” Kyungsoo murmured. That was the last they’d ever spoken of it.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo is a small man.
Not unusually small, really. Just on the smaller side of average. A bit shorter, slighter, more delicate in build.
It’s an illusion, Yifan knows. Kyungsoo’s muscles are not bulky or sharply defined, but they are strong. His attitude is quiet, but it is fierce. His features are innocent and childlike at rest, but can twist into expressions that make Yifan quake.
And his cock is not very big, just about average really, but on his slim frame it looks sizable, and when he shoves it into Yifan’s barely-prepared body, it feels immense.
“Ohhhhh,” Yifan moans, overloud and gutturally deep. Kyungsoo’s already rutting hard, slamming Yifan into the sheets, not bothering for the slow buildup he usually employs, either the soft words or the sharp, frustrating teasing. And Yifan was not prepared enough for him, but Kyungsoo is not terribly large, and Yifan does this often enough that his body accepts the intrusion with only a fleeting ache, quickly lost in the flood of sensation.
Yifan has long, slim thighs, and Kyungsoo fits perfectly between them, pistoning hard. Yifan enfolds Kyungsoo’s slight frame in his long legs and pulls him closer, encouraging him faster, harder, more more please because he can see that even as desperate as Soo is, he’s trying to hold himself back, for Yifan’s sake.
Yifan doesn’t want Soo to hold back. He wants everything he has and then some.
><><><><><><><><><><><
The first time they had sex, Kyungsoo drew it out for nearly an hour.
First, with slow, deep fingering, both of them propped up on pillows and Soo curled comfortably into Yifan’s side with his hand down between Yifan’s legs, carefully and skillfully working him open. Then, with Yifan facedown on the bed, the pillow he’d been leaning on now under his shoulders and face, back arched and ass in the air. Kyungsoo had entered him centimeter by centimeter, so excruciatingly slowly that before he was halfway in Yifan was squirming and begging for him to just fucking hurry up, already.
Kyungsoo had halted his squirming with a hand on Yifan’s back, and told him to relax and enjoy it. And Yifan had done so, though it took a bit to get past the heavy need in his cock, past the relentless drag of Kyungsoo’s against his walls as his lover fucked him deep and slow and steady. But Kyungsoo talked him into a state of floating bliss with soft words, murmured praises.
It feels so good, Yifan. You feel so good.
You’re so big and tall, so handsome. A big face, big hands and feet. Your cock, oh, it’s so long, I love looking at it, I love touching it. I love making you hard.
You have this adorable tiny butt and this precious little mouth. Your lips look so good stretched around my cock. Your ass is so tight.
I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.
You’re so beautiful, Yifan.
You’re mine.
And Yifan had come untouched for the first time in his life - but definitely not the last.
><><><><><><><><><><><
An omega’s heat is a pretty incredible thing, Yifan discovers, when Kyungsoo comes like a freight train and keeps fucking him right through it, sweat dripping and shoulders quivering from the effort of holding himself up. Yifan can see that he’s losing strength, and he’s only two orgasms in, so he tugs Kyungsoo down onto his chest and rolls them both over, still connected.
Kyungsoo resists, but Yifan knows that’s mostly out of habit. “Shhh,” he whispers, and grinds back onto Kyungsoo’s cock, swiveling his hips as best he knows how. Kyungsoo moans like he’s dying and digs his fingers into Yifan’s hips, hanging on with all his strength. “I’ve got you, my love.”
“Yifaaaaan,” Kyungsoo moans. He’s almost whining and it does odd things to Yifan’s stomach to hear it.
He ends up doing the work for Kyungsoo’s third orgasm, fucking himself on Kyungsoo’s impossibly hard cock and carefully angling his body so his prostate stays clear. As he rocks, his own cock stands up nearly vertical from his body, veined and purpling, the hardest he’s been in years. Still, he does not touch himself.
Today, he will not come until he is buried inside Kyungsoo. He whispers this to his mate, and Kyungsoo explodes.
><><><><><><><><><><><
They had been together for five months when Yifan received an odd text in the middle of the day.
Don’t bring home any work tonight.
That was all it was, and it left Yifan confused and on edge all day. Was Kyungsoo planning something? Was he coming over, maybe bringing dinner?
Turns out, Kyungsoo was, in fact, planning something, and it wasn’t dinner. Yifan walked into his flat and found the furniture pushed aside, leaving a large, open section of plush carpet in the center of the room, and Kyungsoo standing right in the middle of it in extraordinarily normal skinny jeans and a slightly loose button-up. Closing the door, Yifan locked it and quietly asked, “What’s going on?”
Kyungsoo’s smile was knifelike. “Put down your briefcase and take off your shoes,” he murmured, as if Yifan ever did anything else with his first twenty seconds in the house. “And then take off everything else.”
Oh. Wait. That was new. Yifan had his tie off before he even registered what he was doing, and he looked up at Kyungsoo, his question in his eyes. Belatedly, he realized that Kyungsoo’s own eyes were blown out and dark, that his skinny jeans were bulging already and there was a long, long coil of scarlet red rope at his feet.
Yifan’s heartbeat tripled.
And he hadn’t really known Kyungsoo very long, so perhaps it was a very stupid idea, but he did as he was bade, stripping off his work suit, folding it and setting it aside. Naked, he crossed the room, and stopped an arm’s length away from Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo’s chin tipped up to look at him, and Yifan was struck dumb once again by his beauty. “Yifan,” he asked, “do you trust me?”
The fact that he was asking that set off alarm bells, but Yifan truthfully breathed, “Yes.”
It won him a smile. “Good,” Kyungsoo said. “I want to try something.” He gestured at the floor at his feet. “Kneel.”
Yifan sank to the floor. Kyungsoo bent and picked up an end of the rope, pulling it up from the coil on the floor. An entire, very long section came free, and Yifan realized it wasn’t one piece of rope in the pile, it was several.
He looked up. “Should I be picking a safe word?” he asked, in all seriousness.
Kyungsoo laughed. “If you want,” he said, “but this isn’t a scene. If you tell me to stop, I stop.” He pointed over at the table. “And if it goes really wrong, I have safety shears.” He carefully measured the rope out, pressing the free ends together and sliding down until he found the midpoint of the length. With that looped in his hand, he looked down again. “Still trust me?”
Yifan pressed his wrists together and held them out.
To his surprise, though, Kyungsoo ignored his hands and walked behind him. He heard rather than saw Kyungsoo kneeling, and then warm hands reached around his body, gently tugging his arms behind his back.
“I’m going to lead you with my body more than words, okay?” Kyungsoo murmured in his ear. Yifan shivered, and nodded. “But I need you to tell me if anything hurts, is too tight, or rubs, or if anything starts to feel numb or tingly. You have to tell me immediately, okay?” Soft lips brushed a kiss behind his ear. “I did a lot of research, but this is the first time I’m trying this for real.”
While he was talking, he was settling Yifan’s arms, folded up behind him with one forearm resting on top of the other so that his wrists were stacked in the middle of his back. Yifan felt Kyungsoo pass the looped end of the rope up between his wrists and his body, pull it up some and then loop it over his wrists and pass it up again. He couldn’t see, but if he was keeping track of what was happening now, that resulted in four lengths of rope wrapped around his wrists. He felt Kyungsoo tying off a knot, and frowned, wiggling his wrists experimentally.
“Soo,” he asked, kind of hesitantly. “Isn’t that...too loose? I could slip right out of that.”
Kyungsoo leaned forward again, his words brushing hot against the back of Yifan’s neck. “As if you would even try to get away from me,” he murmured, amused. Yifan flushed. “This isn’t about keeping you from escaping, darling.”
Yifan felt Kyungsoo testing the ropes, arranging them, before gently laying the free end around the outside of Yifan’s shoulder, smoothing it down. He reached around Yifan’s body, guiding the rope around Yifan’s upper chest to wrap back around the opposite shoulder.
“If it’s not about me escaping,” Yifan asked, “then what is it about?”
“Setting you free.” Deft fingers checked the rope all along the length, and then passed another loop around his shoulders. “You’ll see.”
Yifan wasn’t sure about that, but he found it kind of nice, actually, the way Kyungsoo was touching him then. He was extraordinarily gentle, every touch clearly intended to ensure that everything was perfect, nothing was uneven, nothing was too tight or too loose or in the wrong place. The attentive meticulousness of his actions as he knotted the shoulder tie to the back, carefully worked the rope around Yifan’s shoulders without pinching or dragging in any way, and settled everything in place made Yifan feel...almost as if he was being pampered. Cared for.
Kyungsoo stood, coming back around Yifan’s body. He picked up another length of rope and regarded Yifan with a cocked head, then made a small noise of approval and settled again behind his back.
“I’m glad I went with the red,” he said conversationally. Yifan could feel him attach the new length of rope to the old with some kind of a knot, but couldn’t see how. He wasn’t sure why he cared, really. “It looks stunning with your skin tone.” He pressed a kiss between Yifan’s shoulderblades, and Yifan blushed.
Kyungsoo kept working, passing the rope under and over Yifan’s arms, crossing it over his back, tugging in loops and knots. Every step of the way, his fingers blazed the trail on Yifan’s skin, leaving the rope behind like tracks. It was slow going, and after a while Yifan found it easier to let his head drop forward, his posture slump a little. To relax, and let his eyes flutter shut, and just feel.
After a while, what he started to feel was his feet falling asleep. “Soo,” he murmured, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded with disuse. “Can I sit, instead of kneel?”
“Of course,” Kyungsoo said immediately. He even kept his hands on the outside of Yifan’s shoulders, steadying him as he changed positions, lest his inability to use his arms caused balance issues. Yifan stretched his legs out, and then folded them under him.
“We’re almost done,” Kyungsoo said soothingly, as he reached for another rope. Yifan found that the thought made him...rather disappointed. He liked Kyungsoo touching him like this, overtaking him in such a gentle, but totally complete way. Yifan vaguely knew that this kind of thing could be done whole-body, not just his arms behind his back, and wondered if Kyungsoo would be willing to take the time to learn that, too.
“Done,” Kyungsoo murmured, sitting back. “Ah, that looks beautiful. Like a dragonfly.”
“I wish I could see it,” Yifan murmured. Looking down, all he could see was the red of the ropes wrapped in straight lines across his chest, and beyond that his own cock, half-hard. He hadn’t even realized he was aroused - he was that out of it.
Warm hands traced out patterns on Yifan’s back, patterns he could only assume mirrored the rope. “I’ll take a photo, if you like,” he said. “How do you feel?”
Yifan looked back over his shoulder. “A little bit floaty,” he admitted.
Kyungsoo’s smile was soft, this time. “Good,” Kyungsoo said. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
><><><><><><><><><><><
Following his third orgasm, Kyungsoo is shaky and weak, more vulnerable than Yifan has ever seen him. He seems like he can barely breathe, and Yifan carefully gets off of him, ignoring the strangeness of no longer being full and the two loads of come dripping out of him in favor of reaching over to the nightstand for Kyungsoo’s water bottle.
Kyungsoo struggles to even sit up, but with Yifan’s help he manages and Yifan helps him drink. Half of the contents are drained before Kyungsoo gasps and collapses back onto the sheets, still trembling softly. His cock is somehow still half-hard, and there’s a different kind of wet stain under where his thighs were, and the smell of him clogs Yifan’s nose and threatens to overwhelm him.
“Are you alright?” Yifan asks, his own voice hoarse from moaning. Kyungsoo nods, but does not verbally reply. “Are you...Is it time for…”
Dampened eyelashes pry apart, and Kyungsoo shoots him a wry smile. “For you to fuck me?” he asks, saying what Yifan cannot. “I...yeah, I think it’s time. The burn has faded somewhat, but…” He squirms, making a face. “I’m not sure I like this feeling,” he admits softly.
Yifan’s heart jolts. “What feeling?” he asks.
“This...need. Needing to be filled. God, I want it so much, but it feels…” He sighs. “I can tell it’s superficial. It’s only the heat.”
Yifan can feel his face compressing. He can’t do this. He can’t fuck Kyungsoo if Kyungsoo doesn’t want him, he -
Unsteady hands bring Yifan’s to Kyungsoo’s face, and Kyungsoo lays a slow kiss over his knuckles. “I can hear you overthinking things,” he murmurs. “Yifan, look at me.”
Yifan does as he is commanded.
“I love you,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “You’re my mate. I’m committed to you, forever. I want a child, I want your child. And I know you will be gentle with me.” He smiles. “Don’t misunderstand me, please. I want you, I want this. I just...am not quite used to the idea, yet.” His fingers are less shaky now, as he guides Yifan’s hand down his own body, past his cock and down where Yifan has rarely been before. Warm slickness meets his fingers and need washes over Yifan in a flood, making his steel-hard cock contract roughly, spitting precome. He groans, embarrassingly loudly, but Kyungsoo is right there with him, that bare touch making him gasp and squirm, his thighs falling open. “Please, Yifan,” he moans.
Yifan nods, and rolls Kyungsoo over, settling him on his knees and elbows. Kyungsoo is too compliant, and it feels wrong to be the one in control like this, it feels taboo. But it is what Kyungsoo has asked of him, and Yifan does his best, tugging the pillow over for Kyungsoo to hang on to, just the way Kyungsoo always does with him.
Then he kneels behind Kyungsoo, takes one perfect asscheek in each hand, spreads, and leans down.
><><><><><><><><><><><
That first foray into bondage opened up an entire world for Yifan and Kyungsoo.
It became a regular thing. Kyungsoo would text Yifan once, maybe twice a week, and the moment Yifan got home he was stripping, kneeling. It was a different pattern each time, half a dozen different ways of binding the arms, first, then Yifan’s legs, then his entire body. It never hurt, and each one took longer and longer to do, and Yifan became adept at giving himself over, at letting go. It took only a few weeks for Yifan to realize what Kyungsoo had meant about ‘setting him free’; it was Kyungsoo’s way of helping him deal with his high-stress job. Being wrapped in ropes felt like being wrapped in love, Kyungsoo’s love, tender and safe, and though Kyungsoo had not yet explicitly stated that he did love Yifan, Yifan felt it.
Kyungsoo even borrowed a high-end camera from a friend, at one point, and spent an entire weekend knotting Yifan in scarlet a dozen ways and taking pictures of them all. In the end, their favorite was the one where Yifan’s arms were held straight down behind his back in a simple but consuming double-column tie, back to the camera, sitting on one hip with his legs bound similarly and folded delicately to the side. His pose was demure, but the position of the rope and of his body made him look powerful, his shoulders broad and his back muscles bunched, his legs long and the size of his hands highlighted by the rope wrapped over and over around his wrists. They both adored it and Kyungsoo got it printed on gallery-quality canvas for the day they had a home of their own.
That day came sooner than they expected, when the perfect home went up for sale and Yifan found himself signing papers in less than a month, but even with their combined salaries the mortgage was heavy. Jongdae and Baekhyun came to the rescue, paying rent and taking up the two extra bedrooms that Yifan vaguely hoped might someday belong to their children.
Their roommates never found out about the more...unusual aspects of Yifan and Kyungsoo’s relationship. It was obvious, in offhand comments and cheerful teasing, that both of them assumed it was Yifan fucking Kyungsoo, no matter how obviously dominant Kyungsoo was, or how obviously submissive Yifan.
After all, Yifan was a beta, and Kyungsoo was just an omega. That was how it worked.
For some reason, though, living with Baekhyun and Jongdae made Kyungsoo...territorial. And in his own way, he marked his claim on Yifan, by branching out further and further into different kinds of bondage and sensation play.
First, it was a simple blindfold. Then oils, silks, feathers, leather. Ice. Wax. Each new thing was brought to Yifan for inspection, and each time he only had to look into Kyungsoo’s eyes to relax and trust, and not once did Kyungsoo let him down.
And the first time Kyungsoo said the words ‘I love you,’ it was with Yifan bound in red ropes and striped with white wax, and all Yifan could say in response was, ‘I know.’
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Yifan’s first breath warms Kyungsoo’s leaking hole, Kyungsoo squawks in surprise and squirms weakly, his protests breathless.
“You don’t have to - ”
“I want to,” Yifan says, and tenatively licks over slicked skin.
He’s done this before, but never with Kyungsoo. Certainly, he’s thought about it, but it seems like such a controlling thing, such an exploration of the omega-ness that Kyungsoo has seemed until now determined to ignore, that Yifan has never really wanted to bring it up.
Now, though, he wishes he had, because with the very first touch of his tongue Kyungsoo is moaning an unbroken melody, rocking back towards Yifan’s face. Yifan takes that as encouragement and starts laving long stripes against Kyungsoo’s entrance with the flat of his tongue, teasing at it with flicks of the point and dipping lower to press wet, hot kisses to his perineum.
Kyungsoo tastes incredible, hormones making him sweet, and being buried in his scent is both deeply satisfying and deeply frustrating for Yifan. He can’t help but knead his hands into the delicious firmness of Kyungsoo’s asscheeks and groans loud and deep, vibrating Kyungsoo’s body with it. Kyungsoo cries out, his body releases more fluid, and Yifan dives in, firming his tongue to spear it past the initial ring of muscle.
As in everything else, Kyungsoo is pushy, and he gets his knees under him just enough to be able to grind back onto Yifan’s face. It’s a little suffocating and a lot arousing and Yifan eats Kyungsoo out to his absolute best ability, running his thumbs back and forth along the soft crease between Kyungsoo’s ass and thighs, his back aching from being bent over and his untouched cock trapped between his thighs and his stomach.
When he finally pulls back to get air, Kyungsoo gasps and flips over onto his back. He’s just in time to see Yifan wipe his juices off his face and suck his fingers into his mouth, wanting more of that sweet taste, and he stares in aroused shock.
“Shit, Yifan,” he whimpers. Whimpers. Yifan has never heard him sound so needy. “Fuck me, oh god, please just fucking fuck me.”
His thighs fall open and Yifan collapses between them.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Some pairs made a big deal out of the transition from lovers to mates, but for Kyungsoo and Yifan, there was no pomp, no ceremony.
Somewhere between the coils of red rope and the black silk of the blindfold and the heat of the white wax, a silent promise was made, a lifetime commitment not voiced until Kyungsoo introduced Yifan at his company party as “my mate.”
Any other man would probably have gotten angry, to have that decision taken from them without talking about it explicitly. But for Yifan, it was perfect. Because he’d made that commitment himself months ago, right when he’d first sank to his knees and let Kyungsoo tie him down without any resistance, without any worry or doubt - and he knew Kyungsoo had known it.
Yifan belonged to Kyungsoo already. And announcing it to a stranger was Kyungsoo’s way of proving that Kyungsoo belonged to Yifan, too.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo’s so wet, and Yifan is so hard, and it would be so easy, almost too easy, to just drive into him.
Yifan doesn’t feel like this should be easy, though. Yifan feels like this should be momentous. Three years, they’ve been together, but they’ve never done this.
He’s used to having Kyungsoo between his thighs, but the other way around is just as good. They fit together just as well. And when he breathlessly lines himself up, the first traces of wet touch the tip of his cock and fuck, fuck, he just knows he’s going to make a fool of himself.
Yifan had toyed with the idea of picking up a cock ring, but in the end, decided against it. Now, he wishes he had. Instead, though, he wraps his own hand in a vise grip around the base of his cock, as low as he can, and braces himself on only one arm over Kyungsoo as he slowly, carefully pushes inside.
Kyungsoo’s moan of shocked pleasure is utterly, completely filthy. He’s blazing hot inside and so wet that there’s almost no friction at all, just the tight pressure of his walls.
He. feels. incredible.
And Yifan tells him so, in broken, choked-off words. Formless sounds and rocking hips urge him to move, and Kyungsoo’s grip on his shoulders tightens as Yifan drags his cock out and rocks back in, deeper and deeper until the fingers around his base connect with Kyungsoo’s skin.
“Harder,” Kyungsoo begs, his broken tone digging fishhooks under Yifan’s skin. “More, more, please.”
Yifan does his best. It’s been a long time but his body remembers, and he’s not so out of practice that he doesn’t remember the good angles; he pushes one of Kyungsoo’s plush thighs towards his chest and Kyungsoo starts to writhe and sob. His walls are squeezing and fluttering and driving Yifan insane; even with the death grip he has on his own base it’s all he can do not to erupt like a geyser.
But he can’t come yet. Then he’ll be done, spent, and Kyungsoo will be left wanting. And Yifan can’t stand that thought. He has to hold on, until Kyungsoo comes at least once more. He has to.
A small, trembling hand cups Yifan’s jaw.
“Let go, baby,” Kyungsoo gasps, prying his tear-filled eyes open to look Yifan in the face. “Come for me.”
Yifan swallows, and loves Kyungsoo with all his heart, and lets his hand unclamp from the base of his cock. He collapses onto Kyungsoo, his face buried in his mate’s shoulder, and just ruts, fast and hard, slamming the bedframe into the wall on every stroke. Kyungsoo screams, and then he’s coming, he’s coming again, for the fourth time and holy shit Kyungsoo just came untouched and -
Yifan’s world goes white.
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Kyungsoo first mentioned wanting a child, Yifan had dropped his chopsticks in shock.
Kyungsoo’s smile was self-deprecating. “You don’t believe me.”
“No, I - it’s just that - you - ” Yifan shut his mouth, certain he must have been making an idiot out of himself. “Are you...are you sure? It isn’t just...I don’t know, a stray hormonal urge that you’ll regret later?”
“See, that’s what I thought, too. At first.” Kyungsoo’s smile turned softer. “That was almost two years ago, now, though. And it hasn’t gone away. If anything, it gets stronger, every day.” He sighed, dropping his chin into his hands, and just like the first time he’d laid eyes on Kyungsoo and every day thereafter, Yifan thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.
“A child,” Yifan murmured, testing out the idea in his mind. “Our child.”
“You’d be a great father,” Kyungsoo said. “And I’d be passable.”
He said it like it was a joke, but Yifan looked into his eyes and knew that he believed it, at least in part. “You’d be an incredible father,” he reassured his mate. “And if you’re certain that’s what you want, let’s do it.”
Kyungsoo blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Yifan smiled at him. “I mean, you’re the one who’s going to have to do the hard work. You want a child, we’ll have a child. I’ll be with you the whole way.”
The smile that broke out over Kyungsoo’s face shamed every sunrise the world had yet seen.
Title: hold your breath (it gets better)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: KrisSoo
Genre: a/b/o, smut, romance
Summary: Three years, they’ve been together, but they’ve never done this.
Warnings: a/b/o, self-lubrication, rimming, light bondage/sensation play
Author’s Note: This is the companion piece to over, sideways, under. Written as a Christmas present for Ash. (There’s probably no one else in the world who could get me to write bottom!Kris.)
Yifan knows he doesn’t really have any reason to be nervous.
This is Kyungsoo. His mate of three years. The love of his life and his reason for day-to-day existence. No one else has ever understood him like Kyungsoo does, and he’s never understood anyone the way he understands Kyungsoo.
He doesn’t have any reason to be nervous. But as he climbs the stairs behind his mate, dragged by a small hand locked in a powerful grip on his wrist, and stares in stupefied lust at the most perfect ass in the world as heady wetness soaks into fabric before his eyes, Yifan finds the nervousness has him trembling so badly he can hardly walk.
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Yifan met Kyungsoo, at a singles mixer back when he was just barely out of university, it was love at first sight.
There he was, just sitting there. The most beautiful man in the world - or at least, the most beautiful Yifan had ever laid eyes on. Rose petal lips, skin like poured cream, eyes like molten chocolate and a pretty, slight body that made Yifan want to hold him and not let go.
The man Yifan was hanging out with, Jongdae, he’d met a few times at these things and was pretty chill, for an alpha. He looked where Yifan was looking and made a low noise of approval, eyes sliding over both the perfect man and the man with him. “Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured, and oh, did Yifan agree with that assessment. “Should we…?”
In the end, they did approach. And in a room full of people, all in varying stages of drunk and all with sex on their minds, individual scents were hard to catch. But when the beautiful man lifted his head to look at them, and Yifan caught a distinct whiff of sweet, terribly enticing omega, his heart sank.
Because with so many thick-knotted alphas panting after him, how could such an incredible omega ever choose a mild-mannered beta like Yifan?
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo is on him the moment the door locks, yanking at his shirt and leaning up to kiss him, dirty and sloppy. “Oh god,” he moans, a familiar hand dropping down between them to rub roughly at Yifan’s cock. It shocks Yifan, startles his hips into thrusting forward and a moan out of his chest. “I wasn’t expecting it to - fuck. Suck my cock, Yifan, please.”
This is why Yifan loves Kyungsoo more than anyone. Because Kyungsoo knows what he wants, and asks for it, and usually gets it.
And because when Yifan groans and falls to his knees obediently, Kyungsoo doesn’t deride him for letting an omega take him over.
><><><><><><><><><><><
In an act of extreme bravery, Yifan had slipped Kyungsoo his card as they parted ways after a night of what was apparently strictly platonic drunken snuggling. He’d expected that to be the end of it, right there, but to his surprise he did get a call a few days later.
The date was nothing more than coffee, and the small talk was...more comfortable than usual. Kyungsoo had an air of extremely un-omega-like confidence that immediately put Yifan at ease. For once, Yifan didn’t feel like his date was expecting him to lead the conversation.
It helped that his scent was smooth and intoxicating, clearly muted by suppressant pills but curling gently around Yifan’s brain all the same. Yifan wanted to bury his nose in Kyungsoo’s skin and breathe deep, to fill his lungs with him and roll around in him like a joyful puppy in sun-warmed grass.
He was certain his attraction was painfully, embarrassingly obvious, and he probably wasn’t giving a very good impression of himself. He answered Kyungsoo’s questions about his career, his background, his life with hesitant words borne of dreamy distraction. It wasn’t until Kyungsoo actually snapped his fingers at Yifan that he dragged himself back to reality.
“Look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me,” Kyungsoo ordered.
Yifan did, and found it did help him to focus.
Later, he found out that that was the moment when Kyungsoo decided he was worth a second chance - when he followed an omega’s command without a second thought.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo fucks into Yifan’s mouth with far more force than usual, deep and rough. But after so many years, Yifan has lots of practice at this, at pulling his lips in to cover his teeth and hollowing his cheeks, at angling his head just right and breathing through his nose so Kyungsoo can push easily down his throat. He looks up through the dyed-blond edges of his hair and admires how wrecked Kyungsoo already looks, flushed and panting and already on the verge of losing control. It’s exciting and it’s terrifying because it usually takes hours and hours of teasing before Kyungsoo comes close to being this gone, and Yifan knows this is only the beginning.
He’s afraid he won’t be able to keep up.
So he paces himself. He does not touch himself at all as Kyungsoo uses his mouth, though Kyungsoo’s overwhelmingly intoxicating scent is so strong and enticing that he thinks he could come from that alone. He tries not to let the pricks of pain in his scalp as Kyungsoo tugs on his hair get to him, tries to let his mate’s unusually urgent and impossibly sexy moans roll off his skin, instead of sinking into his body. In his lap, his ignored cock strains desperately upwards, but Yifan puts his own need out of his mind.
Kyungsoo is an omega in heat, his first heat in ten years. Who knows how much he will need from Yifan, how long this will last? And Yifan is not an alpha, with chiseled muscles and hours of stamina and the knot that Kyungsoo’s omega instincts must be screaming at him to find.
Yifan is just a beta. And Yifan is not certain he will be enough.
><><><><><><><><><><><
The first time Yifan and Kyungsoo kissed, Yifan tried to take the lead.
Kyungsoo kissed him first, pushing him up against a wall and raising on his toes to press firmly to Yifan’s mouth. It felt like heaven and Yifan wanted nothing more than to melt and let his new boyfriend take him over, but that’s not what omegas liked, that’s not what they wanted. Everyone knew that omegas needed to be controlled, to be dominated, taken care of by someone bigger and stronger and more in control of themselves. Even the ones that protested, the ones that fought back, deep down, they couldn’t win out over their hormones, their instinct to be filled up, claimed, owned.
That’s what Yifan had always been taught. What he’d seen in the media, heard about in music, seen in the relationship of his own parents and the relationships of those around him. So Yifan put strength into wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, into pulling him closer and devouring his mouth passionately.
Without a word, without even a sound, Kyungsoo snaked a hand up his back and fisted it into his hair, yanking Yifan’s head back. He was a lot stronger than he looked, and though Yifan could have fought it, was probably big enough and strong enough to force Kyungsoo to let go, he didn’t. He melted, he went limp, the fight leaching from his body even as the pain in his scalp made his cock leap. Kyungsoo kept kissing him, and Yifan passively let him, moving his mouth softly, letting tiny instinctive groans fall from lax lips when Kyungsoo nipped at them.
Kyungsoo released his grip, and Yifan opened his eyes to see pleased eyes and a smile like a shark. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo purred, and the intensity of the thrill the words sparked in him startled Yifan.
He had no idea what this was, what they were doing, why Kyungsoo was unlike any omega he’d ever heard of. But he didn’t try to take the lead again.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo, usually so tightly controlled, comes helplessly down Yifan’s throat in bare minutes, shuddering and gasping. He’s almost too beautiful to be real.
“Get on the bed,” he bites out, as Yifan swallows come. It tastes different today, sweeter and thicker, heavy with the hormones of Kyungsoo’s heat. Yifan thinks it could become addictive, if he let it.
Yifan stands, and pulls his shirt off in the same motion. It falls from his fingers as Kyungsoo lunges forward, attacking his collarbones with lips and teeth. His aching cock collides with Kyungsoo’s and finds his lover is still fully hard, dragging broken moans from both of them.
Even though Yifan is already backing up towards the bed, Kyungsoo pushes, because he always pushes. The rest of the clothes get lost on the way and when the edge of the mattress hits the backs of Yifan’s knees, he collapses easily, and it’s not clear whether Kyungsoo is pushing him down, or Yifan is pulling Kyungsoo on top of him. Either way, Kyungsoo ends up pressed along his side, bare skin smooth and hotter even than usual, and Yifan has no idea when he grabbed the lube but he’s already slicking his fingers up and pressing two into Yifan’s ass.
“Soo,” he gasps, as his mate expertly and relentlessly strokes him open. “But - I thought -”
He can’t make himself say it. It’s too strange a thing. I thought I would be fucking you.
Because he hasn’t, not ever.
But Soo wants a child, and truthfully Yifan does too, and so, here they are. His mate is off his meds and leaking both physically and hormonally, but still, it’s Yifan on his back with legs spread eagerly.
“We will,” Kyungsoo assures him breathlessly, responding to his unfinished thought. “But first. First. Oh, Yifan, please, I need you.”
Kyungsoo never begs. Kyungsoo asks, because he’s as concerned about Yifan’s pleasure as Yifan is about his, but Kyungsoo never, ever begs.
Yifan pulls him on top and wraps his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist, because how could he refuse?
><><><><><><><><><><><
They both wanted sex, that much was certain. It was impossible to miss the heaviness in Kyungsoo’s eyes when he trailed them over Yifan’s body, the way he licked his lips when he caught a glimpse of Yifan’s cock hard in his pants. (And around Kyungsoo, Yifan found himself hard a disproportionate amount of the time.)
But they didn’t broach the conversation of how, and it became obvious that they should have when they were naked and sprawled on the bed and there was an awkward struggle over whose thighs should be spreading. Kyungsoo finally held Yifan still with a hand on each knee and looked him in the eye.
“If we’re doing this,” he said, low and serious and straightforward, “then I am going to be inside you. Is that alright?”
Yifan had been fucked by alphas and betas, and had fucked betas and omegas. Not one of them made his insides quake the way just the thought of Kyungsoo fucking him did.
“Yes,” he breathed, and let the resistance seep from his body. “Yes, that’s perfect.”
Kyungsoo’s smile was wide and beautiful. “I’m surprised you didn’t already guess,” he noted as he plucked the lube from Yifan’s fingers and coated his fingers. “Considering what a pushy fucking bastard I am.”
It made Yifan chuckle. “I figured you’d be a power bottom, honestly,” he admitted. “Hold me down and ride me.”
Dark eyes flashed at his words, sharply looking up at him. Their gazes met for a long moment.
“Perhaps someday,” Kyungsoo murmured. That was the last they’d ever spoken of it.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo is a small man.
Not unusually small, really. Just on the smaller side of average. A bit shorter, slighter, more delicate in build.
It’s an illusion, Yifan knows. Kyungsoo’s muscles are not bulky or sharply defined, but they are strong. His attitude is quiet, but it is fierce. His features are innocent and childlike at rest, but can twist into expressions that make Yifan quake.
And his cock is not very big, just about average really, but on his slim frame it looks sizable, and when he shoves it into Yifan’s barely-prepared body, it feels immense.
“Ohhhhh,” Yifan moans, overloud and gutturally deep. Kyungsoo’s already rutting hard, slamming Yifan into the sheets, not bothering for the slow buildup he usually employs, either the soft words or the sharp, frustrating teasing. And Yifan was not prepared enough for him, but Kyungsoo is not terribly large, and Yifan does this often enough that his body accepts the intrusion with only a fleeting ache, quickly lost in the flood of sensation.
Yifan has long, slim thighs, and Kyungsoo fits perfectly between them, pistoning hard. Yifan enfolds Kyungsoo’s slight frame in his long legs and pulls him closer, encouraging him faster, harder, more more please because he can see that even as desperate as Soo is, he’s trying to hold himself back, for Yifan’s sake.
Yifan doesn’t want Soo to hold back. He wants everything he has and then some.
><><><><><><><><><><><
The first time they had sex, Kyungsoo drew it out for nearly an hour.
First, with slow, deep fingering, both of them propped up on pillows and Soo curled comfortably into Yifan’s side with his hand down between Yifan’s legs, carefully and skillfully working him open. Then, with Yifan facedown on the bed, the pillow he’d been leaning on now under his shoulders and face, back arched and ass in the air. Kyungsoo had entered him centimeter by centimeter, so excruciatingly slowly that before he was halfway in Yifan was squirming and begging for him to just fucking hurry up, already.
Kyungsoo had halted his squirming with a hand on Yifan’s back, and told him to relax and enjoy it. And Yifan had done so, though it took a bit to get past the heavy need in his cock, past the relentless drag of Kyungsoo’s against his walls as his lover fucked him deep and slow and steady. But Kyungsoo talked him into a state of floating bliss with soft words, murmured praises.
It feels so good, Yifan. You feel so good.
You’re so big and tall, so handsome. A big face, big hands and feet. Your cock, oh, it’s so long, I love looking at it, I love touching it. I love making you hard.
You have this adorable tiny butt and this precious little mouth. Your lips look so good stretched around my cock. Your ass is so tight.
I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.
You’re so beautiful, Yifan.
You’re mine.
And Yifan had come untouched for the first time in his life - but definitely not the last.
><><><><><><><><><><><
An omega’s heat is a pretty incredible thing, Yifan discovers, when Kyungsoo comes like a freight train and keeps fucking him right through it, sweat dripping and shoulders quivering from the effort of holding himself up. Yifan can see that he’s losing strength, and he’s only two orgasms in, so he tugs Kyungsoo down onto his chest and rolls them both over, still connected.
Kyungsoo resists, but Yifan knows that’s mostly out of habit. “Shhh,” he whispers, and grinds back onto Kyungsoo’s cock, swiveling his hips as best he knows how. Kyungsoo moans like he’s dying and digs his fingers into Yifan’s hips, hanging on with all his strength. “I’ve got you, my love.”
“Yifaaaaan,” Kyungsoo moans. He’s almost whining and it does odd things to Yifan’s stomach to hear it.
He ends up doing the work for Kyungsoo’s third orgasm, fucking himself on Kyungsoo’s impossibly hard cock and carefully angling his body so his prostate stays clear. As he rocks, his own cock stands up nearly vertical from his body, veined and purpling, the hardest he’s been in years. Still, he does not touch himself.
Today, he will not come until he is buried inside Kyungsoo. He whispers this to his mate, and Kyungsoo explodes.
><><><><><><><><><><><
They had been together for five months when Yifan received an odd text in the middle of the day.
Don’t bring home any work tonight.
That was all it was, and it left Yifan confused and on edge all day. Was Kyungsoo planning something? Was he coming over, maybe bringing dinner?
Turns out, Kyungsoo was, in fact, planning something, and it wasn’t dinner. Yifan walked into his flat and found the furniture pushed aside, leaving a large, open section of plush carpet in the center of the room, and Kyungsoo standing right in the middle of it in extraordinarily normal skinny jeans and a slightly loose button-up. Closing the door, Yifan locked it and quietly asked, “What’s going on?”
Kyungsoo’s smile was knifelike. “Put down your briefcase and take off your shoes,” he murmured, as if Yifan ever did anything else with his first twenty seconds in the house. “And then take off everything else.”
Oh. Wait. That was new. Yifan had his tie off before he even registered what he was doing, and he looked up at Kyungsoo, his question in his eyes. Belatedly, he realized that Kyungsoo’s own eyes were blown out and dark, that his skinny jeans were bulging already and there was a long, long coil of scarlet red rope at his feet.
Yifan’s heartbeat tripled.
And he hadn’t really known Kyungsoo very long, so perhaps it was a very stupid idea, but he did as he was bade, stripping off his work suit, folding it and setting it aside. Naked, he crossed the room, and stopped an arm’s length away from Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo’s chin tipped up to look at him, and Yifan was struck dumb once again by his beauty. “Yifan,” he asked, “do you trust me?”
The fact that he was asking that set off alarm bells, but Yifan truthfully breathed, “Yes.”
It won him a smile. “Good,” Kyungsoo said. “I want to try something.” He gestured at the floor at his feet. “Kneel.”
Yifan sank to the floor. Kyungsoo bent and picked up an end of the rope, pulling it up from the coil on the floor. An entire, very long section came free, and Yifan realized it wasn’t one piece of rope in the pile, it was several.
He looked up. “Should I be picking a safe word?” he asked, in all seriousness.
Kyungsoo laughed. “If you want,” he said, “but this isn’t a scene. If you tell me to stop, I stop.” He pointed over at the table. “And if it goes really wrong, I have safety shears.” He carefully measured the rope out, pressing the free ends together and sliding down until he found the midpoint of the length. With that looped in his hand, he looked down again. “Still trust me?”
Yifan pressed his wrists together and held them out.
To his surprise, though, Kyungsoo ignored his hands and walked behind him. He heard rather than saw Kyungsoo kneeling, and then warm hands reached around his body, gently tugging his arms behind his back.
“I’m going to lead you with my body more than words, okay?” Kyungsoo murmured in his ear. Yifan shivered, and nodded. “But I need you to tell me if anything hurts, is too tight, or rubs, or if anything starts to feel numb or tingly. You have to tell me immediately, okay?” Soft lips brushed a kiss behind his ear. “I did a lot of research, but this is the first time I’m trying this for real.”
While he was talking, he was settling Yifan’s arms, folded up behind him with one forearm resting on top of the other so that his wrists were stacked in the middle of his back. Yifan felt Kyungsoo pass the looped end of the rope up between his wrists and his body, pull it up some and then loop it over his wrists and pass it up again. He couldn’t see, but if he was keeping track of what was happening now, that resulted in four lengths of rope wrapped around his wrists. He felt Kyungsoo tying off a knot, and frowned, wiggling his wrists experimentally.
“Soo,” he asked, kind of hesitantly. “Isn’t that...too loose? I could slip right out of that.”
Kyungsoo leaned forward again, his words brushing hot against the back of Yifan’s neck. “As if you would even try to get away from me,” he murmured, amused. Yifan flushed. “This isn’t about keeping you from escaping, darling.”
Yifan felt Kyungsoo testing the ropes, arranging them, before gently laying the free end around the outside of Yifan’s shoulder, smoothing it down. He reached around Yifan’s body, guiding the rope around Yifan’s upper chest to wrap back around the opposite shoulder.
“If it’s not about me escaping,” Yifan asked, “then what is it about?”
“Setting you free.” Deft fingers checked the rope all along the length, and then passed another loop around his shoulders. “You’ll see.”
Yifan wasn’t sure about that, but he found it kind of nice, actually, the way Kyungsoo was touching him then. He was extraordinarily gentle, every touch clearly intended to ensure that everything was perfect, nothing was uneven, nothing was too tight or too loose or in the wrong place. The attentive meticulousness of his actions as he knotted the shoulder tie to the back, carefully worked the rope around Yifan’s shoulders without pinching or dragging in any way, and settled everything in place made Yifan feel...almost as if he was being pampered. Cared for.
Kyungsoo stood, coming back around Yifan’s body. He picked up another length of rope and regarded Yifan with a cocked head, then made a small noise of approval and settled again behind his back.
“I’m glad I went with the red,” he said conversationally. Yifan could feel him attach the new length of rope to the old with some kind of a knot, but couldn’t see how. He wasn’t sure why he cared, really. “It looks stunning with your skin tone.” He pressed a kiss between Yifan’s shoulderblades, and Yifan blushed.
Kyungsoo kept working, passing the rope under and over Yifan’s arms, crossing it over his back, tugging in loops and knots. Every step of the way, his fingers blazed the trail on Yifan’s skin, leaving the rope behind like tracks. It was slow going, and after a while Yifan found it easier to let his head drop forward, his posture slump a little. To relax, and let his eyes flutter shut, and just feel.
After a while, what he started to feel was his feet falling asleep. “Soo,” he murmured, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded with disuse. “Can I sit, instead of kneel?”
“Of course,” Kyungsoo said immediately. He even kept his hands on the outside of Yifan’s shoulders, steadying him as he changed positions, lest his inability to use his arms caused balance issues. Yifan stretched his legs out, and then folded them under him.
“We’re almost done,” Kyungsoo said soothingly, as he reached for another rope. Yifan found that the thought made him...rather disappointed. He liked Kyungsoo touching him like this, overtaking him in such a gentle, but totally complete way. Yifan vaguely knew that this kind of thing could be done whole-body, not just his arms behind his back, and wondered if Kyungsoo would be willing to take the time to learn that, too.
“Done,” Kyungsoo murmured, sitting back. “Ah, that looks beautiful. Like a dragonfly.”
“I wish I could see it,” Yifan murmured. Looking down, all he could see was the red of the ropes wrapped in straight lines across his chest, and beyond that his own cock, half-hard. He hadn’t even realized he was aroused - he was that out of it.
Warm hands traced out patterns on Yifan’s back, patterns he could only assume mirrored the rope. “I’ll take a photo, if you like,” he said. “How do you feel?”
Yifan looked back over his shoulder. “A little bit floaty,” he admitted.
Kyungsoo’s smile was soft, this time. “Good,” Kyungsoo said. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
><><><><><><><><><><><
Following his third orgasm, Kyungsoo is shaky and weak, more vulnerable than Yifan has ever seen him. He seems like he can barely breathe, and Yifan carefully gets off of him, ignoring the strangeness of no longer being full and the two loads of come dripping out of him in favor of reaching over to the nightstand for Kyungsoo’s water bottle.
Kyungsoo struggles to even sit up, but with Yifan’s help he manages and Yifan helps him drink. Half of the contents are drained before Kyungsoo gasps and collapses back onto the sheets, still trembling softly. His cock is somehow still half-hard, and there’s a different kind of wet stain under where his thighs were, and the smell of him clogs Yifan’s nose and threatens to overwhelm him.
“Are you alright?” Yifan asks, his own voice hoarse from moaning. Kyungsoo nods, but does not verbally reply. “Are you...Is it time for…”
Dampened eyelashes pry apart, and Kyungsoo shoots him a wry smile. “For you to fuck me?” he asks, saying what Yifan cannot. “I...yeah, I think it’s time. The burn has faded somewhat, but…” He squirms, making a face. “I’m not sure I like this feeling,” he admits softly.
Yifan’s heart jolts. “What feeling?” he asks.
“This...need. Needing to be filled. God, I want it so much, but it feels…” He sighs. “I can tell it’s superficial. It’s only the heat.”
Yifan can feel his face compressing. He can’t do this. He can’t fuck Kyungsoo if Kyungsoo doesn’t want him, he -
Unsteady hands bring Yifan’s to Kyungsoo’s face, and Kyungsoo lays a slow kiss over his knuckles. “I can hear you overthinking things,” he murmurs. “Yifan, look at me.”
Yifan does as he is commanded.
“I love you,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “You’re my mate. I’m committed to you, forever. I want a child, I want your child. And I know you will be gentle with me.” He smiles. “Don’t misunderstand me, please. I want you, I want this. I just...am not quite used to the idea, yet.” His fingers are less shaky now, as he guides Yifan’s hand down his own body, past his cock and down where Yifan has rarely been before. Warm slickness meets his fingers and need washes over Yifan in a flood, making his steel-hard cock contract roughly, spitting precome. He groans, embarrassingly loudly, but Kyungsoo is right there with him, that bare touch making him gasp and squirm, his thighs falling open. “Please, Yifan,” he moans.
Yifan nods, and rolls Kyungsoo over, settling him on his knees and elbows. Kyungsoo is too compliant, and it feels wrong to be the one in control like this, it feels taboo. But it is what Kyungsoo has asked of him, and Yifan does his best, tugging the pillow over for Kyungsoo to hang on to, just the way Kyungsoo always does with him.
Then he kneels behind Kyungsoo, takes one perfect asscheek in each hand, spreads, and leans down.
><><><><><><><><><><><
That first foray into bondage opened up an entire world for Yifan and Kyungsoo.
It became a regular thing. Kyungsoo would text Yifan once, maybe twice a week, and the moment Yifan got home he was stripping, kneeling. It was a different pattern each time, half a dozen different ways of binding the arms, first, then Yifan’s legs, then his entire body. It never hurt, and each one took longer and longer to do, and Yifan became adept at giving himself over, at letting go. It took only a few weeks for Yifan to realize what Kyungsoo had meant about ‘setting him free’; it was Kyungsoo’s way of helping him deal with his high-stress job. Being wrapped in ropes felt like being wrapped in love, Kyungsoo’s love, tender and safe, and though Kyungsoo had not yet explicitly stated that he did love Yifan, Yifan felt it.
Kyungsoo even borrowed a high-end camera from a friend, at one point, and spent an entire weekend knotting Yifan in scarlet a dozen ways and taking pictures of them all. In the end, their favorite was the one where Yifan’s arms were held straight down behind his back in a simple but consuming double-column tie, back to the camera, sitting on one hip with his legs bound similarly and folded delicately to the side. His pose was demure, but the position of the rope and of his body made him look powerful, his shoulders broad and his back muscles bunched, his legs long and the size of his hands highlighted by the rope wrapped over and over around his wrists. They both adored it and Kyungsoo got it printed on gallery-quality canvas for the day they had a home of their own.
That day came sooner than they expected, when the perfect home went up for sale and Yifan found himself signing papers in less than a month, but even with their combined salaries the mortgage was heavy. Jongdae and Baekhyun came to the rescue, paying rent and taking up the two extra bedrooms that Yifan vaguely hoped might someday belong to their children.
Their roommates never found out about the more...unusual aspects of Yifan and Kyungsoo’s relationship. It was obvious, in offhand comments and cheerful teasing, that both of them assumed it was Yifan fucking Kyungsoo, no matter how obviously dominant Kyungsoo was, or how obviously submissive Yifan.
After all, Yifan was a beta, and Kyungsoo was just an omega. That was how it worked.
For some reason, though, living with Baekhyun and Jongdae made Kyungsoo...territorial. And in his own way, he marked his claim on Yifan, by branching out further and further into different kinds of bondage and sensation play.
First, it was a simple blindfold. Then oils, silks, feathers, leather. Ice. Wax. Each new thing was brought to Yifan for inspection, and each time he only had to look into Kyungsoo’s eyes to relax and trust, and not once did Kyungsoo let him down.
And the first time Kyungsoo said the words ‘I love you,’ it was with Yifan bound in red ropes and striped with white wax, and all Yifan could say in response was, ‘I know.’
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Yifan’s first breath warms Kyungsoo’s leaking hole, Kyungsoo squawks in surprise and squirms weakly, his protests breathless.
“You don’t have to - ”
“I want to,” Yifan says, and tenatively licks over slicked skin.
He’s done this before, but never with Kyungsoo. Certainly, he’s thought about it, but it seems like such a controlling thing, such an exploration of the omega-ness that Kyungsoo has seemed until now determined to ignore, that Yifan has never really wanted to bring it up.
Now, though, he wishes he had, because with the very first touch of his tongue Kyungsoo is moaning an unbroken melody, rocking back towards Yifan’s face. Yifan takes that as encouragement and starts laving long stripes against Kyungsoo’s entrance with the flat of his tongue, teasing at it with flicks of the point and dipping lower to press wet, hot kisses to his perineum.
Kyungsoo tastes incredible, hormones making him sweet, and being buried in his scent is both deeply satisfying and deeply frustrating for Yifan. He can’t help but knead his hands into the delicious firmness of Kyungsoo’s asscheeks and groans loud and deep, vibrating Kyungsoo’s body with it. Kyungsoo cries out, his body releases more fluid, and Yifan dives in, firming his tongue to spear it past the initial ring of muscle.
As in everything else, Kyungsoo is pushy, and he gets his knees under him just enough to be able to grind back onto Yifan’s face. It’s a little suffocating and a lot arousing and Yifan eats Kyungsoo out to his absolute best ability, running his thumbs back and forth along the soft crease between Kyungsoo’s ass and thighs, his back aching from being bent over and his untouched cock trapped between his thighs and his stomach.
When he finally pulls back to get air, Kyungsoo gasps and flips over onto his back. He’s just in time to see Yifan wipe his juices off his face and suck his fingers into his mouth, wanting more of that sweet taste, and he stares in aroused shock.
“Shit, Yifan,” he whimpers. Whimpers. Yifan has never heard him sound so needy. “Fuck me, oh god, please just fucking fuck me.”
His thighs fall open and Yifan collapses between them.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Some pairs made a big deal out of the transition from lovers to mates, but for Kyungsoo and Yifan, there was no pomp, no ceremony.
Somewhere between the coils of red rope and the black silk of the blindfold and the heat of the white wax, a silent promise was made, a lifetime commitment not voiced until Kyungsoo introduced Yifan at his company party as “my mate.”
Any other man would probably have gotten angry, to have that decision taken from them without talking about it explicitly. But for Yifan, it was perfect. Because he’d made that commitment himself months ago, right when he’d first sank to his knees and let Kyungsoo tie him down without any resistance, without any worry or doubt - and he knew Kyungsoo had known it.
Yifan belonged to Kyungsoo already. And announcing it to a stranger was Kyungsoo’s way of proving that Kyungsoo belonged to Yifan, too.
><><><><><><><><><><><
Kyungsoo’s so wet, and Yifan is so hard, and it would be so easy, almost too easy, to just drive into him.
Yifan doesn’t feel like this should be easy, though. Yifan feels like this should be momentous. Three years, they’ve been together, but they’ve never done this.
He’s used to having Kyungsoo between his thighs, but the other way around is just as good. They fit together just as well. And when he breathlessly lines himself up, the first traces of wet touch the tip of his cock and fuck, fuck, he just knows he’s going to make a fool of himself.
Yifan had toyed with the idea of picking up a cock ring, but in the end, decided against it. Now, he wishes he had. Instead, though, he wraps his own hand in a vise grip around the base of his cock, as low as he can, and braces himself on only one arm over Kyungsoo as he slowly, carefully pushes inside.
Kyungsoo’s moan of shocked pleasure is utterly, completely filthy. He’s blazing hot inside and so wet that there’s almost no friction at all, just the tight pressure of his walls.
He. feels. incredible.
And Yifan tells him so, in broken, choked-off words. Formless sounds and rocking hips urge him to move, and Kyungsoo’s grip on his shoulders tightens as Yifan drags his cock out and rocks back in, deeper and deeper until the fingers around his base connect with Kyungsoo’s skin.
“Harder,” Kyungsoo begs, his broken tone digging fishhooks under Yifan’s skin. “More, more, please.”
Yifan does his best. It’s been a long time but his body remembers, and he’s not so out of practice that he doesn’t remember the good angles; he pushes one of Kyungsoo’s plush thighs towards his chest and Kyungsoo starts to writhe and sob. His walls are squeezing and fluttering and driving Yifan insane; even with the death grip he has on his own base it’s all he can do not to erupt like a geyser.
But he can’t come yet. Then he’ll be done, spent, and Kyungsoo will be left wanting. And Yifan can’t stand that thought. He has to hold on, until Kyungsoo comes at least once more. He has to.
A small, trembling hand cups Yifan’s jaw.
“Let go, baby,” Kyungsoo gasps, prying his tear-filled eyes open to look Yifan in the face. “Come for me.”
Yifan swallows, and loves Kyungsoo with all his heart, and lets his hand unclamp from the base of his cock. He collapses onto Kyungsoo, his face buried in his mate’s shoulder, and just ruts, fast and hard, slamming the bedframe into the wall on every stroke. Kyungsoo screams, and then he’s coming, he’s coming again, for the fourth time and holy shit Kyungsoo just came untouched and -
Yifan’s world goes white.
><><><><><><><><><><><
When Kyungsoo first mentioned wanting a child, Yifan had dropped his chopsticks in shock.
Kyungsoo’s smile was self-deprecating. “You don’t believe me.”
“No, I - it’s just that - you - ” Yifan shut his mouth, certain he must have been making an idiot out of himself. “Are you...are you sure? It isn’t just...I don’t know, a stray hormonal urge that you’ll regret later?”
“See, that’s what I thought, too. At first.” Kyungsoo’s smile turned softer. “That was almost two years ago, now, though. And it hasn’t gone away. If anything, it gets stronger, every day.” He sighed, dropping his chin into his hands, and just like the first time he’d laid eyes on Kyungsoo and every day thereafter, Yifan thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.
“A child,” Yifan murmured, testing out the idea in his mind. “Our child.”
“You’d be a great father,” Kyungsoo said. “And I’d be passable.”
He said it like it was a joke, but Yifan looked into his eyes and knew that he believed it, at least in part. “You’d be an incredible father,” he reassured his mate. “And if you’re certain that’s what you want, let’s do it.”
Kyungsoo blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Yifan smiled at him. “I mean, you’re the one who’s going to have to do the hard work. You want a child, we’ll have a child. I’ll be with you the whole way.”
The smile that broke out over Kyungsoo’s face shamed every sunrise the world had yet seen.