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The feeling of being struck by a person you love—and once trusted—is one of the worst forms of pain Bum has ever experienced. Under the hands of his uncle, Bum had faced far too much grief, too much agony.
Somehow, though, this is different. Under Sangwoo’s fists, it’s different. With his violence, Bum has his full attention. Sangwoo wants to see him cry, he wants to see him suffer. And isn’t that romantic, at the core of it? Sangwoo wants to make him feel his passion. He wants to indulge in his pain.
But sometimes, that pain overwhelms the pleasure. Sometimes, it just hurts.
Tears are running down Bum’s face, thick and burning. He’d been thrown down the stairs. His shins and knees hurt badly, and he knows his body will be covered in bruises come morning. Sangwoo took his time to descend upon him, gazing at the crumpled form of the elder man at the bottom of the stairs with sick satisfaction on his grim face. Bum had time to crawl his way into the kitchen, and now he hides under the kitchen table, a pointless desperation for safety.
Entering the kitchen, Sangwoo is a huge, heaving creature, his hands in fists, knuckles red. Bum hiccups and gasps for air, sobbing from under the table, curled up into a tight ball, hands clutching at the leg of the table, eyes wide and witnessing the dangerous approach of Sangwoo. In disbelief, like this is a living nightmare.
“You think this flimsy piece of wood is going to protect you from me?” Sangwoo’s voice is mocking, acidic. He grabs the underside of the table with both hands and throws it to the wall in a great crash of wood upon wood. One of the legs hits Bum on the shoulder, a smarting pain Bum has little time to dwell on before he’s backhanded, the full force of Sangwoo’s strength applied to the swing. It sends Bum onto his side, crumpling like a doll, hands flying up to his head.
The impact is a lightning strike of hot agony, pulsating through his face. His teeth ache, his cheek a fiery welt. Sangwoo’s knuckles feel like a rock when they come with violence. For once, Bum just wants his knuckles to kiss his cheek. To drift across his skin in a caress free of that pain.
“Own up to it, Bumi!” Sangwoo growls at him, sinister amusement in his voice. He grabs Bum by the shirt, yanking him up by the collar. Bum whines sharply, hanging from that grip. It gives Sangwoo a good angle to cock back his fist and strike Bum right in the eye, a fast, brutal hit that gives Bum little time to defend himself. The power of it has his head flying back, snapping back so harshly that Sangwoo pauses, waiting. Bum cries out, hands grabbing at Sangwoo’s wrist, a pitiful attempt to fight him off. With his sobs, the air flying out from his nose and mouth forces a shot of mucus to sully his face, dripping off his grimacing lips, his jawline. Sangwoo makes a face.
“Fucking nasty. But all cheating bitches are filthy, aren’t they?”
Sangwoo reels back his fist, twisting his torso along with it, and then punches Bum right in the face again, the sound of it an unsettling crack that fills the kitchen—this time the hit centers on his nose. Bum goes absolutely limp, totally stunned and debilitated by the blow. He’s held up by Sangwoo’s white-knuckled grip on his shirt. His head is lolling, his eyes rolling around in their sockets. Blood begins bursting from his nose, dripping thick and hot down his face. He moans in delirious agony. Sangwoo watches calmly as Bum comes back to coherency after such an incapacitating strike, his head heavily lifting, twitching. His eyes crack open to gaze up at Sangwoo as blood gushes down his throat and off his jaw, dripping onto his shirt, onto the floor.
Then Bum begins kicking his legs, attempting to break free, pushing at Sangwoo’s shoulder, his jaw. Sangwoo laughs, utterly unaffected.
“You’re so helpless. Pretty pathetic for a hyung. Just admit it, Bumi, so I don’t have to beat you to death. You fucked him.”
“I-I didn’t!” Bum screams, looking at him with wild-eyed desperation. His voice is thick from his ruined nose, his sinuses swelling. Blood is in the crevices of his teeth, a strong, metallic taste as he denies this awful, twisted lie. “I would never, Sangwoo, I p-promise! Why would I want anyone else when I have you?! I’ve never wanted anyone else in my life but you, Sangwoo, please! Please, I can’t take this anymore. Stop!”
He curls up into a ball, bracing his arms around his head. It puts strain on Sangwoo’s wrist, so he lets him go. Whimpering, Bum is left to make himself as small as possible on the bloody kitchen floor, hiccuping and choking on his own snot and blood. Sangwoo stares down at him coldly.
“You can’t take it anymore? Take what? Be specific, Bum, otherwise I’ll misunderstand you.”
“This…” Bum sobs, hands twisted in his black hair. “I just want us to be normal, Sangwoo, please… Don’t hurt me anymore… I just want to l-love you.”
Suddenly, he can’t hold it back anymore. He starts openly sobbing into his arms, his body convulsing with the power of his wailing cries, his tears a thick film in his eyes, on his face. His cheek is still pulsating from the earlier slap and previous punches, his eye swelling quickly from the violent strike it had received. His nose is surely broken, and he feels like he’s suffocating on his own blood, his own pain. He weeps, curled up on the floor, hands fisted against his head.
“Please…” he moans, rocking himself now, his knees aching against the hard floor. “Please, Sangwoo, be kind to me… I can’t take it anymore, I love only you, please tr-trust me… I just want you…”
“Hey. Are you done yet?” Sangwoo’s voice is cold, a cut through Bum’s core. He goes silent, only breathing shakily, sniffling from where he lays under Sangwoo. Blood is hot on his forearms, dripping down to pool at his elbows. Bum stares at the sharp crimson color through the blur of his tears. He hears Sangwoo sigh from above. He’s startled when a big hand grabs him by the bicep and yanks him up onto his feet. Bum shrieks in fear—in pure reflex, he beats his fist against Sangwoo’s bicep once, trying to get away, but then that action has him freezing, gasping as realization dawns.
“I-I’m so—so sorry, Sangwoo—” Bum stammers, his teary, swelling eyes meeting Sangwoo’s. Sangwoo just looks tiredly annoyed. Without a word, he turns away from Bum and by that grip on his bicep, he marches him out of the kitchen.
Stumbling, Bum barely keeps up, dizzy from how quickly he was pulled onto his feet. Sangwoo keeps pulling him along, guiding him to the stairs. Sangwoo’s face is a mask, his eyes bearing that flat, uncaring look. He gestures for Bum to hurry up and ascend the stairs first. Bum shakily grasps the handrail and begins climbing. A hard shove to his ass has him stumbling up the steps, though he accidentally steps on his long skirt twice, nearly tripping himself up.
He’s nudged into the bathroom. Sangwoo approaches the bathtub and starts the water. Scared, Bum stands by the door, wringing the hem of his bloodied shirt in his equally bloody hands. The hot drip of blood is still rolling down his upper lip to fall off his mouth, his jaw, but he’s not sure how to make it stop. He’s wary of alerting Sangwoo—it might piss him off again. Then Sangwoo turns to him, takes in his state, and approaches him with an exasperated sigh. Flinching, Bum ducks his head, fearing the worst. But then Sangwoo reaches out to forcefully, albeit carefully, tip his head back.
“It doesn’t look broken,” Sangwoo mumbles, getting close to Bum, peering at him closely. Bum looks up at him shakily, eyes wide and fearful, his mouth quivering. This angle is making him swallow the blood, rolling down the back of his throat. He coughs, teary-eyed. Sangwoo releases his head. “Lean forward over the sink, and pinch your nostrils shut. Stay there until it stops.”
Bum shakily nods, relieved that he’s allowed to take care of it. Sangwoo pushes him a little on the arm, gesturing to the sink with a nod of his head, and Bum obeys. Unsteadily, he approaches the sink and braces his bloody hands against the rim, leaning over the bowl and watching the blood drip thickly from his nostrils. The moisture left behind in the sink makes the droplets disperse, spreading like veins across the white porcelain.
Sangwoo cares for him in the bath. Bum is quiet and tired, exhausted from his beating, from constant vigilance of the other man. He silently lets Sangwoo wash his body, his bloody hands, his arms, his face. Sangwoo leaves him to soak while he retrieves a bag of frozen vegetables from the fridge, wrapped in a cloth towel which he then presses gingerly to Bum’s swollen face. Bum only starts to relax when Sangwoo takes a seat beside the bathtub and begins stroking at his black hair. Bum weakly holds the bag to his face.
“I’m… glad I didn’t break your nose,” Sangwoo mutters, a shocking admission that earns Bum’s one-eyed gaze. Sangwoo meets his surprised stare and sneers. “Then I’d have to deal with setting it, and splinting it. Would’ve been annoying.”
Bum deflates, looking down at the water now tinged red from the blood. Bum doesn’t care that he’s sitting in it. He just wants to stay in the warmth a little longer. He just wants to linger under Sangwoo’s care, his gentle touches. He knows once this passes, he may face his wrath again. No—he will.
Sangwoo continues threading his long fingers through his locks, an odd contrast to the cruelty of his words. It feels good. Bum wavers, head hanging, exhaustion in every sense hitting him hard. He wants Sangwoo’s attention so badly, his love, and while the petting is nice, it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
He begins to cry again. The tears are hot and bitter, stinging as they fall from his eyes, soaking into the towel, dripping noisily from his jaw. He sobs, a heavy sound in the overwhelming silence of the bathroom. Sangwoo keeps stroking at his hair. Saying nothing, doing nothing but petting his head while Bum cries, his small body jerking with it.
“Calm down,” Sangwoo mutters after a minute. “You’re fine. Stop crying. You’re making me want to hit you again, Bumi. Don’t make me hit you, I don’t want to.”
Bum takes in a sharp, stuttering breath, air catching on the mucus in his throat. He nods a little. Sangwoo scratches at his scalp gently. Bum shudders, pleasant tingles shooting through his body.
“Let’s get you out of the bath,” Sangwoo says. “You obviously need to sleep.”
Sangwoo rises and then grabs a big bath towel for Bum. It takes great effort for Bum to rise, trembling like a lamb, dripping with water. Exhausted, full of regret, shame, and hope, he obeys Sangwoo and steps out. Sangwoo engulfs him in both the towel and his embrace. Bum leans into it. He closes his eyes. Foolishly, he trusts him all over again.
The following day, Sangwoo behaves oddly. He insists Bum stay in bed while he makes him breakfast. He constantly checks to see if the ice pack is cold enough for his face, that he’s well hydrated, and that he’s not bored, laying up in bed. Bum thrives under this tender attention, smiling happily whenever Sangwoo comes into the room to check on him, to brush back his hair and examine his horribly swollen eye, his bruised face, his bandaged nose.
At one point, Sangwoo even began rubbing his feet while he watched Bum eat his lunch, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes tracking every movement Bum made. Bum felt so cared for, so loved—maybe it’s finally happening. Maybe Sangwoo just needed to hear his desperation, his plea for mercy. Maybe it actually struck something in his heart, as cold as it may be at times. Bum hopes so.
The window is open, casting a cool night breeze into the second floor bedroom. The streetlight outside illuminates the room gently, a soothing light that alleviates some of Bum’s irrational fears regarding the dark. Bum is sleeping when the door cracks open. It immediately wakes him up, as skittish as he’s become in this household. He jolts under the covers, rising up onto an elbow to see Sangwoo step into the room with a basin in his arms, a towel folded over the side of it.
“S-Sangwoo…” Bum whispers, watching as the other man takes a seat beside him, placing the basin of steaming water by the futon. Sangwoo doesn’t look at him. With his head low, his wavy hair hides his face, even more so in the dim light of the room. Sangwoo pulls back the covers, exposing Bum’s skinny body, dressed only in an oversized t-shirt—Sangwoo’s.
“You haven’t washed up today,” Sangwoo explains. “Just lie back. I’ll take care of it.”
He finally meets Bum’s eyes. A smirk is playing across Sangwoo’s lips, his eyes hooded and dark. Bum doesn’t trust that expression, but he wants to give Sangwoo the benefit of the doubt. He obediently lays back down against the pillow, watching the other man dip the towel into the soapy water, wringing it a bit. Then he pulls up Bum’s shirt, exposing his naked lower half. Bum’s face burns. He watches, breath hitching, as Sangwoo begins running the soapy cloth across his thighs, his hips, up to his pubic bone. He passes over the modest bush of dark hair. Bum swallows thickly, hands twisting in the futon blanket, his uninjured eye wide and tracking every little shift of Sangwoo’s big hands.
Just this arrangement, this situation, is enough to make Bum’s dick fill with blood. It’s a small thing, maybe pushing three inches, but it is still a hindrance. Sangwoo clicks his teeth and pushes it down and out of the way. Bum squirms, a noise catching in his throat. He presses his knobby knees together. Sangwoo scrubs at his pubic hair, and then brings the soapy rag down on either side of his erection, moving his penis as he deems fit to access other parts of him.
“This filthy, shameless thing…” Sangwoo mutters. He flicks the head of his cock. Bum jolts, yelping in surprise and in pain. He looks at Sangwoo speechlessly, his entire face burning hot. Sangwoo sneers at him. He wets the towel again, replenishing the suds, and then flattens Bum’s small erection to his heaving belly, keeping it pinned as he gently roams the wet towel over Bum’s hairless balls. Embarrassed but aroused, Bum doesn’t put up a fuss, only squirms on his back, spreading his knees again, looking at Sangwoo’s face with heady want.
“So dirty… This body, so small and fragile, but no one knows how horny it can be… Besides me, of course. No, this is all mine.” Sangwoo says this thoughtfully, mockingly like Bum isn’t laying right there, hearing this. Bum presses his hand to his mouth, ashamed. His cock jumps when Sangwoo gently forces his thin thighs apart and firmly passes the rag down over his perineum, to his hole. He scrubs into it while looking straight at Bum’s face, and Bum feels like he’s about to combust. He whines from behind his hands, his voice thick from his still-swollen sinuses and flared cheek. “S-Sangwoo! I can do it! Th-that’s so embarrassing!”
“But you’re bedridden,” Sangwoo teases, sticking his tongue out at him. “You can’t do anything, remember? You poor, helpless thing. I’ll do everything, even clean your cute, little—”
“Sangwoo!” Bum shrieks, kicking a leg at him. Sangwoo laughs aloud. Bum accidentally presses his hand too firmly against his face in a gesture of unbearable embarrassment, and it has him flinching back into the pillow. Sangwoo laughs again, harder.
“Idiot,” Sangwoo chuckles, finally sliding the towel out from between Bum’s cheeks. He’s quick and confident in cupping a hand under Bum’s hard cock, rubbing the wet, soapy towel across the shaft and head, pulling back his foreskin to thoroughly wash him. It evokes another involuntary flinch and startled grunt from Bum.
Turning away, Sangwoo rinses the towel twice, making sure there’s no soap suds on it, and passes it over the parts of Bum’s body he cleaned, leaving it glistening with water, his skin pale and supple in the dim light. Bum is burning by then, his cock so hard it hurts, dripping with pre-cum. It pools on his heaving belly. Sangwoo notices, the thick fluid shiny against his porcelain skin. Sangwoo’s flat, amused stare flicks up to him. Bum bites at his bottom lip. His blush is so intense, he can feel it burning on his forehead, in his ears.
“See? Such a gross, lustful body. What, you want me to do something about that, Bum?” Sangwoo mocks. He drops the wet towel back in the basin and shifts closer between Bum’s open legs. Bum arches his narrow hips up slightly, elbows braced against the bed. He looks at him past his black fringe, whispering, “Yes… please, Sangwoo… I w-want you. Can you… use your mouth, please? I’m clean, aren’t I?”
“So demanding.” Sangwoo huffs. He stares down at Bum’s straining cock, a small, demure thing, flushed red and oozing a line of pre-cum. Bum squirms, fidgeting his hips, an attempt to look enticing so Sangwoo will do as asked. Sangwoo presses down on his hips, mumbling at him to stay still. He seems to contemplate it, staring at the small dick, and then leans in to suck it into his mouth in one go, as if he had to build the courage to do so. Bum’s hips flinch back into the futon, but Sangwoo follows. Propped low on his elbows, Sangwoo keeps his big hands around Bum’s narrow waist. He begins bobbing his head, sucking harshly, his wavy locks falling from his forehead to tickle Bum’s clenching belly.
“Ahhn, Sangwoo!” Bum gasps, curling his fingers into his mouth, over his bottom lip and teeth, in disbelief by how good it feels. He arches his spine, trying to restrain the urge to thrust up into Sangwoo’s mouth. Sangwoo’s warm hands slide up under his back, cradling him as he sucks his small cock with force, his cheeks visibly hollowed. Bum can’t help but give the tiniest rocks of his hips, pumping ever so slightly up into Sangwoo’s wet, hot mouth.
“Ah! Ahn, hnn!” Bum tips his head back into the bed as a plethora of untethered moans pour from his mouth, clawing at the covers with his other hand. “Haah, ahhh, Sangwoo!”
For only a minute Sangwoo sucks at him, moving his head, the slurping noises loud and filthy in the room, overwhelmed only by Bum’s horny whimpering, his open-mouthed moaning. Fingers curled into his mouth, Bum cracks his eye open and gazes down at Sangwoo, watching his head bob up and down. It’s too much. The sight pierces through his belly, a burn in his balls. He feels his gut clench up, that building heat coming to a peak. Bum convulses, gasping out past his fingers, drooling on himself, “Feels s-so good, hnnn, I’m coming! I’m c-coming!”
Sangwoo doesn’t even pull off. Bum kicks weakly at Sangwoo’s hips, his sides, squealing as he tries to push him off, one hand flying down from the covers to press to his shoulder. Sangwoo doesn’t budge. He continues moving his head even as Bum’s tiny dick hardens a bit more in his mouth, straining, and then floods his tongue and teeth with his cum. Bum jerks silently throughout it, convulsing. He releases a quiet grunt in his throat when the ecstasy fades to something floating and easy. His balls are almost aching from how substantial the relief is. He moans softly, eyes rolled up into his head, mouth lax around his wet fingers.
“Ugh, so gross…” Sangwoo’s disgusted voice has him lifting his heavy head to look at the other man. Sangwoo is making a face, scrubbing his mouth off on his wrist. Bum can’t even support the weight of his head. He collapses back onto the futon, panting for air.
“Never swallowing your nasty cum again,” Sangwoo groans. Bum laughs weakly, blissful. He squirms his legs, dazed from his orgasm.
“It’s okay, Sangwoo… That was s’good…”
Sangwoo scoffs.
“Well, isn’t that easy for you to say? You look pretty damn satisfied.”
Bum is jostled from a firm nudge to his thigh. He cracks his eye open, realizing that the other man had stood from between his legs. Naturally, his gaze finds Sangwoo’s groin. He’s blatantly hard, seen through his sweatpants quite easily. It’s pitching a pretty sizable tent. Bum grins, still flushed and sated, and reaches out with both hands, squeezing them into fists multiple times—gimme, gimme. Sangwoo laughs. He steps over Bum to reach the basin.
“So fucking impatient. Hold on. I’m going to take this out. I’ll be back.”
Bum watches him leave the room with a smile on his boyish face, curling up onto his side—the side where his face isn’t swollen up, resting comfortably. He dozes.
Sangwoo returns not even a minute later. Bum cracks his eyes open, and then once he lays his eye on Sangwoo, he sits up at attention. Sangwoo is totally naked, his cock huge and bulging, eagerly arching from his muscular body. The shine of pre-cum is glistening down from the tip, burning a trail along the underside. Bum salivates. He scrambles to get up just as Sangwoo steps over. His big hand naturally finds the back of Bum’s head, coaxing him closer. Bum gingerly curls a small hand around the base, admiring it with a salivating mouth.
The glistening line of pre-cum is tantalizing. He leans in to drag the flat of his tongue up from the base of his shaft, licking it up the entire way to the tip. Bum moans when he feels Sangwoo’s cock twitch against his tongue. His heavy, doe-eyed gaze trains up on Sangwoo’s face while he sucks the head into his mouth, the hot taste of him intoxicating. Then he immediately pulls back, wincing, his hand flying to his aching, swollen cheek. He peeks up at Sangwoo with guilt, eyes soft in apology. Sangwoo looks vaguely annoyed.
“I-I’m sorry, Sangwoo…” Bum whispers, curling his shoulders in, afraid. “I can’t. My cheek, it hurts so much…”
Sangwoo takes in a deep breath, his broad chest visibly expanding. Waiting for his fate, Bum hangs his head, cradling his face. Sangwoo exhales that breath in a sigh. Bum feels that hand on his head roam, petting him instead.
“It’s alright, you’ve sucked me off plenty of times before. I want to be inside you, anyways. Lay down.”
Relieved, Bum almost feels like leaning over to kiss him on the feet, but Sangwoo would probably laugh at him. It’s going so well, Bum doesn’t want to be made into a fool. So he obeys and carefully lays back down on the bed. Sangwoo follows, kneeling between his skinny legs, and only then does Bum realize he has something in his hand. It’s a tube. Sangwoo cracks it open and squeezes out a shiny substance. It occurs to Bum that it’s lube. Shocked, Bum just stares, unsure how to approach the fact that Sangwoo is actually being considerate for once regarding safety.
Sangwoo notices his expression and shrugs. He strokes the lube over himself, saying, “Well, you always look like you’re in so much pain so… I looked it up. This stuff helps. But you know all about that, don’t you? You perv.”
Bum blinks, and then he rises up onto a hand, reaching out to carefully take the lube from Sangwoo’s hand like he’s an animal that might bite if he moves too quickly. He nods, smiling bashfully.
“Thank you, Sangwoo. Um… L-let me handle it, okay?”
Sangwoo stares at him in that chilling way that Bum knows all too well.
“Sure, Bum. Sure, do whatever you gotta do.”
Bum is far too grateful of the lubricant for Sangwoo’s behavior to unsettle him. He squeezes out a generous amount and lays back down, bringing his knees up. He stares at Sangwoo’s body, admiring the hard muscle of his chest and abs while he fingers himself. The sight of his hand on his cock, slick and shiny with lube, is enough for Bum. Admiring Sangwoo, he easily gets fully hard again. Bum only gets a minute before Sangwoo is pulling his hand away by the wrist, fitting himself between his legs. Accustomed to his impatience, Bum angles his hips up properly and waits, flicking his eyes up to meet Sangwoo’s stare.
“Too bad you’re not pretty to look at right now,” Sangwoo sighs while he shifts closer on his knees, getting into position. “Busted up to shit.”
Bum looks down to the side, frowning. He says nothing.
Tucking a hand under Bum, Sangwoo lifts his lower half to cram the futon blanket under him, supporting him and providing a better angle. It takes some strain off Bum’s body. He relaxes, grateful, watching the other man with a slight smile on his bruised face. Sangwoo is staring down at his lower half, watching himself take his cock in hand and push into Bum, just like that. Bum lurches, grunting, but then wills his body to relax and take it in.
Sangwoo is familiar with taking what he wants, doing what he wants, so he simply bottoms out in him, curling both hands around his ankles, guiding them up to rest over his broad shoulders. Bum isn’t really comfortable doing so; their height difference is too great so it makes him feel awkward, his skinny legs hiked up so high. Sangwoo leans over him then, which takes care of that discomfort, but instead it practically bends Bum in half. The air is forced out of his lungs from Sangwoo’s weight. He pushes at Sangwoo’s biceps, gasping, “C-can’t breathe.”
Mercifully, Sangwoo lets up. He props up on his elbows instead, alleviating some weight. Bum takes in a sharp breath and tips his head back into the futon pillow. Sangwoo, surprisingly enough, leans in to rest his head against Bum’s chest.
Rather than play with his nipples like Bum expects him to, he just lays his cheek to his flat, bony chest. It brings them closer, sharing a warmth Bum is not accustomed to. It’s not often he experiences intimacy like this, so freely given. Smiling, Bum wraps his skinny arms around Sangwoo and holds on, lifting his head just to nuzzle into his wavy hair.
He knows Sangwoo finds him disgusting. Why shouldn’t he? He knows Sangwoo likes hitting him, hurting him. Bum can’t fault him for that. He knows he deserves it. But moments like this… feeling loved, held, cared for… He can pretend it’s all okay. That Sangwoo isn’t forcing himself to be gentle. That he really loves him.
“Ah, Sangwoo…” Bum breathes, tipping his head back into the bed, clutching at him, hoping to coax out any affection he can while this moment lasts. Sangwoo begins rolling his hips against him, gradually working him open, aided with the slick glide of the lube. He’s breathing heavy enough Bum feels it brush across his chest—it’s warm. His hands gravitate up to Sangwoo’s head, fingers threading through his flaxen hair. Sangwoo is oddly silent but he doesn’t say anything mean, he doesn’t hurt him, so Bum lets this feeling of contentment linger.
Low, soft moans melt from Bum with every slow, deep rock of Sangwoo’s hips. His body is a small thing, and when joined with the lack of preparation, it makes for a tight grip. Sangwoo has to put force into the push of his thrusts, and it does still hurt, but it’s not as awful as it usually is. It’s not a stinging, sharp pain, but a subtle burn, an uncomfortable stretch that is definitely tolerable. Bum even kind of likes it, when it’s not so unbearable. For this reason, every firm push back in, Bum can’t help but groan with it, clutching tighter at the younger man.
He cries out in shock when Sangwoo bites a mouthful of the taut skin across his chest, gnawing it between his teeth as he begins pumping faster, harder into Bum. The snap of his hips forward, driving into him, compliments the searing pain of the bite. It becomes so intense, both in pleasure and in pain, Bum feels paralyzed with sensation. Mindlessly, Bum grabs at his hair, the nape of his neck.
“This is what you wanted, right, hyung?” Sangwoo’s voice is a low growl, earning a hazy, weak glance from Bum. Blood is on his lips, his teeth. There’s a distinct bite mark on Bum’s chest. He can’t believe Sangwoo bit him so hard, hard enough to actually break skin.
Sangwoo sneers at him, rising up. He tightens his big, knuckle-bruised hands around Bum’s knees, keeping them pinned to his shoulders. He pounds into him hard and fast, the force of his fucking great enough that it pushes the futon—and Bum—further up the floor.
Grimacing, Bum cranes his head back into the pillow, his hands naturally moving over Sangwoo’s flexing chest to settle on his arms. He clutches at his forearms, crying out sharply. The loud, pained whimpers are practically pushed out of his lungs with every balls deep thrust. It feels so deep, so far in him that it’s almost too much. Sangwoo makes him feel like a toy when he treats him this way, and while Bum wishes they could just make love once in a while, he cannot deny that it gets him off, too.
“What was it you said?” Sangwoo goes on, breathless. “You wanted to be ‘normal’, right? You begged me to stop hurting you. I’m not hurting you, am I, Bum?”
He grunts sharply with every powerful snap of his hips that succeeds the taunts, jostling the smaller man underneath him purely from the violence of it. Bum can barely take it. He cries out, a yelp of pain, a plea for mercy. He pushes at Sangwoo’s sweaty chest, screaming, “Stop! S-Stop, Sangwoo! Ah, it hurts! Y-You are hurting me!”
Surprisingly, Sangwoo stops. He pulls out entirely, and yanks his hands away from Bum’s body like he’s being scolded, petulant. Bum’s legs fall limply on either side of Sangwoo, his torso heaving with his breaths. He looks at Sangwoo in shock, his one good eye wide. Sangwoo is staring at him coldly.
“Well, tell me what to do, Bum, because obviously I don’t know how to be normal.”
Scared, Bum isn’t sure what Sangwoo expects of him. If he makes the wrong move, or says the wrong thing, that might just set him off again. His chest is throbbing from the bite, and his ass is now sore, a pulsating pain in his lower half. Bum feels miserable, but he just—he just wants to be with Sangwoo, even with the pain.
Sniffling, Bum sits up. He looks down submissively, Sangwoo’s earlier words striking him. You’re not pretty to look at right now.
“Can you…” Bum begins in a low whisper, arms crossed, hands gripping his thin biceps. “Can you get on top of me? I’ll—I’ll lay on my front, I just… I just want you to hold me.”
Sangwoo seems to go stiff at that. He looks at Bum with this odd faraway look in his eyes, for just a moment, but Bum notices. He’s not sure what that means. Before he can ask, Sangwoo nods slowly.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll… I’ll hold you. If that’s what you want.”
Relieved, Bum blushes, smiling coyly. He doesn’t understand this sudden change of behavior, but he desperately wants whatever Sangwoo will give him. “Please.”
“Well, lay down then.”
Bum hurries to obey before Sangwoo changes his mind. He turns over, and nearly kicks Sangwoo—Sangwoo swiftly catches his leg by the ankle. He pushes it down into position, sighing with blatant impatience. Bum mumbles an apology, peeking at him past his shoulder. He gets up low on his knees, spread far, and gathers the rumpled pillow in his arms. Sangwoo surprises him by grabbing the lube and applying a fresh coat to his dick. It makes Bum smile secretively into the pillow—he actually cares…
Climbing up over him, Sangwoo promptly crushes Bum to the futon, letting the smaller man bear his weight. Bum grunts in strain, surprised—before he even recovers from the suddenness of being pressed to the bed, Sangwoo sweeps his slick cock between his asscheeks, his fist pressed firm against Bum, guiding it. He pushes in deeply as he settles into a comfortable position atop him. Bum moans loudly into the pillow, muffled. He’s still sore, but again, it’s a good kind of burn.
Arching his spine, Bum pushes his ass back into the curve of Sangwoo’s hips, already lost in the fog of lust yet again. Two broad hands stroke down his biceps, along his forearms. They pry his thin hands out from under the pillow. The lack of stability has Bum falling forward onto his front, his face accidentally smothered. Yelping in pain, Bum turns his head to rest on the uninjured side, eyes watering.
The pain is immediately soothed when Sangwoo takes his hands, threading their fingers together. Wide-eyed, Bum stares at the visual of his larger hands engulfing his own. A soft, pleased smile spreads across his mouth.
“Can you breathe?” Sangwoo asks quietly. “Is this okay?”
Bum nods. The raw bite mark on his chest burns, agitated against the fabric of the futon. His face is still swollen and tender, but it’s not a big deal. He’s further startled when warm lips travel across the knobby bumps of his vertebrae, up to the back of his head. Sangwoo nuzzles into him. Bum is speechless. The heavy warmth of Sangwoo, the pleasant feeling of being caged under him—Bum is in heaven.
“S-Sangwoo,” he gasps. “You—you feel good. Move, please, m-move—”
“Relax, I got you.” Sangwoo’s voice is a deep murmur against the back of his head. Bum can feel the gusts of his words through his hair, tickling his scalp. He goes limp under him, gelatinous, content. Accepting. Sangwoo begins rocking against him, slow and easy like he’d done earlier. This position isn’t as deep as the last, but it’s still intense. Bum can’t help but moan and gasp his pleasure.
“I hurt you bad, didn’t I?” Sangwoo murmurs, and then Bum feels lips gingerly kiss across his aching cheek, up to his battered eye. Bum can’t even see out of it anymore. Even that feather-light pressure hurts, but it’s bearable. Tears well up in his eyes, feeling Sangwoo gingerly kiss him on the temple. He wants this version of Sangwoo, always. He finds it hard to trust that he’ll remain like this, that this won’t quickly turn sour considering Sangwoo’s mood swings. But for now, he closes his eyes, lets the tears run, and tries to enjoy it.
It’s not a difficult feat. Soon, Sangwoo begins dropping his hips faster and harder, at a pace that feels good for them both. Bum rises onto his elbows, still clutching firm at Sangwoo’s fingers, tipping his head up as moans crawl out from his slack mouth.
“Ahh, hnn, so—! So good! Ah, Sangwoo! Yes, just like that!”
Sangwoo is panting from behind him, still bent forward to nuzzle into Bum’s black hair, his breaths a hot gust against him. Bum is delirious, taken by how good it feels.
“Gonna—come in you—ah, shit, Bum—!” Sangwoo grunts, and then his thrusting becomes sporadic in firm, trembling shoves that roll Bum’s lower half forward. It drives Bum crazy, grinding his small cock against the futon in just the right way. He was gradually getting closer and closer to that apex, but the knowledge that Sangwoo is going to finish so soon makes that peak rush up suddenly.
He wants to come with Sangwoo, he wants to share an orgasm with him, he’s always wanted to—and then the hot flood of Sangwoo’s cum in his ass brings him over, just like that. An embarrassingly high-pitched moan rips from him just as Sangwoo growls, a vibration of sound Bum can even feel through his skull.
Sangwoo presses in deep, but Bum can’t stop moving. He humps into the futon as he’s swept up by the waves of ecstasy, simultaneously rocking back into Sangwoo, moaning continuously, collapsing forward into the pillow. The pain that rockets through his face upon doing so is hardly noticeable during his orgasm. The warm weight of Sangwoo’s cum inside of him maintains a firm grip of his attention. Sangwoo’s cum is inside him. Sangwoo’s. It feels so good...
And then like with all good things, it passes. Coming down from the high, he dazedly registers that Sangwoo had released his hands to instead clutch at his narrow hips, squeezing hard enough it hurts. Sangwoo is gasping for air, but then again, so is Bum. Bum groans softly, feeling the other man shakily pump into him a few more times before pulling out.
The thick gush of his semen spurts out of Bum. It rushes down his perineum and balls. Bum freezes at the feeling, beyond embarrassed. Absolutely red-faced, he desperately hopes Sangwoo isn’t looking. But then he does exactly the opposite: he grips his asscheeks and spreads him open.
“Sangwoo!” Bum protests, yelping. He rises up onto a hand, reaching back with the other to push at his chest. “Stop that! Don’t look!”
Sangwoo laughs, knocking away Bum’s persistent hand. He pointedly stares, as if he’s trying to embarrass him. Bum groans in dismay. He attempts to turn his hips out of it but Sangwoo is stubborn in holding him down. Bum hides behind a hand. Sangwoo sounds much to pleased when he says, “Look, I did what you wanted. I didn’t hurt you, alright? That means it’s time to let me do what I want. Is that so difficult for you, Bumi?”
“You… You’re such a jerk,” Bum mumbles, exasperated. Sangwoo laughs sharply. He finally lets Bum go and climbs off his legs, dropping down beside him on the bed. He props his cheek in his hand, looking at him with a sly smile on his flushed face. Bum peers at him, pouting. Sangwoo shows his teeth in a grin, a mocking predator.
“And you’re an annoying brat. I’d say that makes us even.”
Bum huffs. He hides his face in the pillow, and then winces from the pressure, lifting his head again.
“Idiot,” Sangwoo says affectionately, reaching out to ruffle Bum’s sweat-damp hair. “Stop doing that.”
“I keep forgetting…” Bum delicately feels his swollen eye and cheek. They’re still quite tender. “Um, Sangwoo, can you go get that towel again? I can’t get up like this… I’ll… drip everywhere. And I-I think I need the bag of peas again, too. My face hurts...”
“Oh, so you want me to spoil you some more? Aren’t you a demanding little bitch. Fine. Just rest up, sweetheart, and I’ll get whatever you ask for.”
Even if it was sarcastic, the sweetheart makes Bum smile, hidden behind his wrist and hand while he touches at his bandaged nose. Sangwoo pets his hair a little, trails that hand down the sweaty slope of Bum’s back, and then gets up from the futon. He cracks open the window on the way out—it reeks like sex.