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Isabel is fluttering around backstage, and when she sees Seonghwa in the makeup chair, she beelines right for him with a beaming smile. They meet eyes through the mirror as a light brush tickles his cheekbones.
“There’s our star!” greets Isabel. Seonghwa sends her a smile, but doesn’t get a chance to say anything. “I wish I could sit around with you, but I have to go!”
Seonghwa isn’t offended, far from it. He stifles a laugh as Isabel rubs his shoulder. Despite the chaos of everything, he feels relaxed, as if he’s right at home.
Gabby, the makeup artist, turns to grab the eyeshadow brush and Isabel leans down to whisper, “I’m proud of you.”
A warm feeling rushes from his stomach to his chest. He can not afford to cry right now, especially since Gabby has started on touching up his eyes. Isabel has already walked away to check on something else, and Seonghwa is reminded how lucky he is. He’s got a job he loves that loves him right back. There’s nothing more Seonghwa could ask for.
With this good, steady job to keep him busy, it’s given him luxuries he could only dream of. Virtually anything he wants, he just has to tap a button or ask for it. Clothes and even his silly little hobbies can get funded all because he works his dream job.
Another plus he’s given is Kim Hongjoong.
They met before Seonghwa became a household name, face plastered on billboards and storefronts alike, and when Hongjoong just got hired to KQ entertainment. Seonghwa remembers how Seoul was this big, new, cold place. There was so much fear under his excitement then. He also remembers the mullet Hongjoong donned when they met. He was the coolest person Seonghwa had ever met, despite the industry of people he looked up to around, and it’s still something Seonghwa believes to this day. Their journey up to this point has been long, full of ups and downs, but with Hongjoong at his side makes every step worth it.
Since they’re both global stars, Hongjoong gets the privilege of coming backstage before shows.
It’s not surprising when Eunha, his assistant, pops up behind him to tell him that Hongjoong is here. He tries to hide his growing smile, but even after all this time, Hongjoong still manages to make him giddy. As soon as Eunha runs off, Hongjoong’s gelled ginger hair appears over his shoulder. Their eyes meet through the mirror and he can see Hongjoong is not even trying to hide his own smile. He’s gained his reputation over the years of being a serious music producer, perhaps a bit intimidating and intense, but he could never hide around Seonghwa. Their friends had said it was disgustingly sweet.
“Aren’t you supposed to be finding your seat?” asks Seonghwa instead of a greeting. Gabby gave them a smile and turned to call on someone else.
“I did that when I got here,” says Hongjoong.
Seonghwa can feel his eyes taking in every inch of him as he gets up from the chair, smoothing out his dress as he moves. He steps around the chair, but can’t go anywhere else with Hongjoong right in front of him. Seonghwa doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to having Hongjoong’s full attention on him like he does right now. The room is full of other models, people molded to perfection, yet Hongjoong has not looked away from Seonghwa since he got here. Plus, Seonghwa kept his runway outfit a secret in hopes of surprising Hongjoong.
“You just can’t handle a surprise,” says Seonghwa, like Hongjoong doesn’t make an effort to see Seonghwa before every show if he’s able. His stomach flutters as Hongjoong’s tongue pokes out to wet his lower lip, eyes stuck on the belt snug around his waist. “What do you think?”
The longer Hongjoong takes to answer, the more Seonghwa starts to feel the heat of the lights. Hongjoong bites the inside of his cheek, eyes lidded. He looks so effortlessly handsome in his stylish suit, a simple black outfit, but with enough collarbone showing that Seonghwa’s teeth ache to bite. Hongjoong takes one step forward, then places his hands on Seonghwa’s waist and squeezes. Seonghwa’s breath hitches at his strong grip.
“I think you’re the best looking one here,” says Hongjoong. His voice comes out in a whisper, but it’s so loud in Seonghwa’s ears.
“You say that every time.” Seonghwa needs to step away, as he’s feeling himself start to sweat, but he thinks if Hongjoong lets go, his legs are going to give out. Especially when Hongjoong’s thumbs start rubbing his sides in firm circles. He gives Seoghwa one last squeeze, smirking at his small gasp, then takes a step back.
“And I mean it every time.” Someone yells over the pre-show chaos, probably the time, but Seonghwa can’t focus. Hongjoong reaches up and moves hair out of Seonghwa’s eye, letting his touch linger on his face. He thinks Hongjoong is going to drop his hand, but his hand keeps going down until he’s cupping Seonghwa’s neck. At this rate, Seonghwa might pass out. “My wife is the most beautiful person in every room.”
“H-Hongjoong,” stutters Seonghwa. He grabs Hongjoong’s wrist, but doesn’t pull it away. Hongjoong does that for him with one final caress.
“I’ll be right at the end, waiting for you.” Hongjoong can’t stop touching him. He grabs Seonghwa’s left hand and leaves a long kiss to his wedding band. His eyes never break away from Seonghwa’s. “I love you, my star.”
Fondness mixes dangerously with the growing warmth in Seonghwa’s stomach. He almost wants to say Screw It and drag Hongjoong by his blazer to the nearest hidden corner, but the rational part of his brain is still there, keeping him still.
“I love you, too.” And because he’s feeling a bit cheeky, he adds, “My husband.”
Hongjoong’s jaw clenches and his eyes promise all kinds of things Seonghwa can’t be thinking about before a show. He gives Hongjoong a slight push to his chest, giving him enough room to walk around him, but Hongjoong snags his elbow, twirling him around until they’re nose to nose. “Can you keep this dress?”
“I have a different dress for the after-party,” says Seonghwa. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “...I’ll see what I can do.”
“Well, I’ll go find my seat,” says Hongjoong as he lets go of Seonghwa. “You’ll knock ‘em dead, and I’ll be watching.”
This time Seonghwa stops before he can leave, just long enough to lay a kiss to his lips. He sighs into it, and the sound grounds Seonghwa back to earth. With a smile, Hongjoong is escorted back into the audience.
The show goes smoothly, as it always does. Seonghwa is the last in the lineup, and when it’s his turn, something clicks into place. He rolls his shoulders, takes a deep breath, then walks. There are so many lights, from the stage to people’s phones. Every one of them is pointed right at him. He keeps his expression neutral and his eyes barely blinking. He needs to look untouchable and he knows he does.
Right at the end of the runway, like he said he would be, Hongjoong watches. The attention, the clothes, the lights all ignite the fire under Seonghwa’s skin. He can never get enough of the feeling of the eyes locked on him, but Hongjoong’s gaze has always been something else.
When Seonghwa walks back out with Isabel at the end of the show, he doesn’t hide how he’s looking only at Hongjoong, who is standing and clapping alongside everyone else. There’s a heat in his eyes that leaves Seonghwa impatient with the need to touch him.
It’s all he can think about as he’s changing out of his tan dress and heeled boots, and into the black dress and heels for the after party. It’s form-fitting, so it shows every line and curve of his body. If Hongjoong could barely keep his hands to himself with the previous outfit, Seonghwa is sure it’s about to get a whole lot worse. He loves the silk material, and he knows Hongjoong does, too. He especially likes the feeling of his hands over it.
Eunha is waiting for him as he finishes putting on his silver earrings, a cheeky smile on her face. He makes eye contact with her for a moment to acknowledge he’s listening.
“Mister Kim has his car waiting for you,” she says.
Seonghwa huffs and can’t keep the growing smile off his own face. Straightening up, he says, “Of course he does.”
The paparazzi’s camera lights flash in rapid succession as he steps out of the building. The black car awaiting him is all he focuses on. There’s something in his gut telling him that he’s walking into danger, but a small voice answers back that this is exactly what he wants to be doing.
The door is opened for him and his eyes immediately lock onto Hongjoong’s. His face is carefully neutral. The sounds from everyone outside are instantly muffled as the door closes. The sound of it locking makes Seonghwa’s heart beat faster. He tries to ignore Hongjoong as he settles in. The partition is down and he can see the driver trying to find a way through the crowd. A hand grabs his thigh so firmly that he has nowhere to jump from how sudden it happens. When he looks over at Hongjoong, he has to hold his breath.
“Did you like the show?” asks Seonghwa like he ran for miles, breathless.
Hongjoong hums as he squeezes and rubs the dress’s material covering Seonghwa’s thigh. He starts to work his way up towards the bulge Seonghwa had been trying to hide. His breath hitches when Hongjoong’s palm rubs it, then drifts back down his leg.
“Like I said,” says Hongjoong, leaning over to make sure his lips are right against Seonghwa’s ear, “you are always the most beautiful person in every room.”
The hot breath on his skin makes Seonghwa shiver. He scoots an inch closer and lightly touches the seams of Hongjoong’s suit. From his angle, he can see more of Hongjoong’s chest. His mouth starts to water.
Hongjoong reaches his free hand up to grab Seonghwa’s wandering one, bringing it to his mouth and kiss the pads of his fingers, to his knuckles, lingering on his wedding band, to the back of his hand, to the dainty silver chain around his wrist. He flips the hand over to pepper kisses on Seonghwa’s palm, and once he digs his tongue into his pulse point, Seonghwa was out of breath.
“The driver,” Seonghwa blurts out. His own voice sounds foreign to him.
Hongjoong laughs against Seonghwa’s skin. He lightly drags his nose further down Seonghwa’s arm, goosebumps following close behind. “We’re not even doing anything. Yet.”
Yet. The promise is sealed with a nip of Hongjoong’s teeth. By now, he’s using both hands to feel along any skin he can get to. He hasn’t even moved from Seonghwa’s left arm and he thinks he might die in this car. He’s much too aware of the driver not too far away. He tries to tug his arm free, but Hongjoong’s hold is unmoving and his attempt to break free earns him a sharper bite. He only pulls off at Seonghwa’s noise of pain.
“Can’t a man show his wife some love?” whines Hongjoong. He sounds just as affected as Seonghwa feels.
“Not in the back of a car.”
“Please. You say that like it’d be the first time.” Hongjoong scoffs at Seonghwa’s terrible attempt to seem unaffected. He leans in to place a feather light kiss right behind Seonghwa’s ear, a hand weaving into Seonghwa’s straightened hair to give him more space. “Did you think I wasn’t going to do anything after seeing you like that? Like this?”
“I thought you’d at least wait until after the party,” says Seonghwa, but they both knew he didn’t really mean that. His eyes fall shut the more Hongjoong starts littering little bites down his neck.
“Like I'd have that kind of patience.” Hongjoong licks each spot he sinks his teeth into, and Seonghwa just knows he’s showing up to the party with marks. “You always smell so good.”
“It’s the perfume you got me for my birthday,” says Seonghwa.
“No. I think it’s just you,” says Hongjoong. He bites the junction between Seonghwa’s neck and shoulder extra hard.
Seonghwa jumps and yelps out, “Partition!” As Hongjoong licks around the spot, Seonghwa calmly repeats, “Driver, could you roll up the partition, please?”
“Of course, Mister Park.” Then, the tinted shade rolls up to a close giving them at least some privacy.
Once it does, Seonghwa shoves Hongjoong back onto the seat. His pearly white teeth shine through his mischievous grin and he looks far too pleased for Seonghwa’s liking. With his grip tightening on Hongjoong’s collar, Seonghwa dives to smoosh his lips onto Hongjoong’s. Their teeth click against each other upon impact, but Seonghwa is too busy trying to shove his tongue into Hongjoong’s mouth to care. Hongjoong doesn’t fight it, opening his mouth wider despite his smirk still there. Seonghwa tilts his head and licks along Hongjoong’s teeth, making sure he gets in between every ridge before tangling their tongues, Hongjoong’s having gone slack as Seonghwa explores.
Drool runs down Seonghwa’s chin and their lips become wet with the spit. Seonghwa knows his lip gloss is all but gone and he can’t help but think he prefers the shine of their mixed saliva more than anything else. Hongjoong has teased him about it; for someone so strict about cleanliness, he sure likes to get messy. He can’t help it, the feeling of Hongjoong on every inch of his skin is his favorite feeling. He knows he’s never looked better than with Hongjoong’s spit or bites or cum marking him. He also knows Hongjoong can’t get enough of the sight either.
Hongjoong tugs on Soenghwa's dress until he’s straddling his lap. It brings the material up to his knees and shows off his heels still clinging onto Seonghwa’s feet. Heeled shoes always make his legs seem impossibly long, something else Hongjoong likes. His hands are stuck on Seonghwa’s waist, keeping him in place right on top of him. Seonghwa’s own hands can’t decide if they want to hold Hongjoong’s neck or tug his hair. Their tongues are still tangled, but Seonghwa can’t hold back his moan as Hongjoong starts to move him up and down, their clothed crotches having nowhere to go but against each other.
Hongjoong pulls away just enough to whisper against Seonghwa’s lips, “Guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t wait.”
Seonghwa brings his hand from Hongjoong’s hair to his throat, relishing in how Hongjoong swallows against it. His eyes are lidded, his face flushed, and his mouth parted open. Seonghwa gives a tiny squeeze just to hear Hongjoong inhale sharply.
“We don’t have too long before we get to the party,” says Seonghwa. It’s more of an excuse than a reason to stop, but his makeup is surely ruined by the amount of spit on his face and he’d like to keep this look between the two of them.
Hongjoong moves his hand down to the end of Seonghwa’s dress and holds it. He gets this familiar challenging look, much too self-assured even under Seonghwa’s grip, as if he’s already won. “Then, get off my lap.”
He should. It’ll be easy to swing his leg back over to sit in his own seat. That way he can touch up his face. Then, another thought crawls into his brain and he gives Hongjoong his own smirk.
“Okay.”
Hongjoong furrows his brows, but quickly understands when Seonghwa slides down rather than to the side. As soon as his knees hit the carpet, he’s undoing the button on Hongjoong’s pants and tugging. Hongjoong lifts his hips and helps by also pushing down his briefs, letting his cock free. Seonghwa licks his lips. He’s said it before, but Hongjoong is really perfect everywhere. His cock is long and thick in Seonghwa’s hands, curved just enough to reach places Seonghwa can’t get to on his own. It’s red, an angry color, and veiny. Seonghwa traces his fingers, wet from Hongjoong’s leaking tip, along some of the veins, smiling as Hongjoong’s thigh twitches. He then grabs the base, his fingers barely being able to meet, and gives one firm upward stroke, holding just under the head to watch more pearls of precum bead out of the slit.
Hongjoong grunts and grips some of Seonghwa’s hair so he lets out a hiss at the sting. “No teasing. You’re the one saying we don’t have time.”
Seonghwa wants to say something snarky, but the urge to get Hongjoong in his mouth overpowers that. He pools saliva onto his tongue, leans over the head, and opens his mouth to let the spit drip out, mixing with Hongjoong’s precum. Hongjoong gives his hair another tug, so Seonghwa puts off of this torture and wraps his lips around the head, the tip of his tongue licking up their mixed fluids. Hongjoong’s other hand helps gather some more of his hair from falling into his face, and uses both to push his head further down. Seonghwa keeps his tongue flat, letting each tastebud take Hongjoong in, and relaxes his throat. He thanks no one in particular for not having a gag reflex.
Hongjoong sighs and groans the further down Seonghwa goes, fingers tightening then relaxing in his hair as he holds himself back. Seonghwa’s nose stops right against Hongjoong’s skin and he breathes in his scent, humming at the notes of his body wash and something unmistakingly Hongjoong. Hongjoong pushes him down harder with a loud moan, one Seonghwa is sure the driver heard even through the closed partition. His throat closes as a bolt of lightning sets his gut alight.
The music is not that loud. Seonghwa can hear his own slurping of the drool that falls and Hongjoong’s quick breaths, nothing being hidden from prying ears, if they so pleased. The thought doesn’t put him off as much as it should.
Seonghwa pushes on Hongjoong’s thigh and lets him fall out of his mouth with a pop. He looks up through his eyelashes, licks his lips, and says, “Fuck my throat.”
If you could believe it, Seonghwa used to be shy during anything intimate. He’s not sure when the switch flipped or if it was a more gradual thing that happened the more Hongjoong opened him up. Whatever it is, Seonghwa loves how wrecked his voice sounds after having Hongjoong down his throat.
As Hongjoong adjusts his hands in Seonghwa’s hair, Seonghwa bunches up the ends of his dress and pulls it over his legs until his entire bottom half felt the air. There was another surprise Seonghwa was becoming impatient to hide. At Hongjoong’s loud groan, he must have seen part of it.
“Is that lace?” asks Hongjoong through a choked voice.
Seonghwa holds his dress up to his chest with one hand, and grabs Hongjoong’s cock with the other. He smirks as he says, “Maybe.”
If Hongjoong was going to say anything else, it’s cut off by moan as Seonghwa doesn’t waste anymore time gulping down his cock until the head hits the back of his throat. The walls flutter as they quickly adjust to the intrusion and Seonghwa breathes deep through his nose as it relaxes.
”You’re gonna kill me,” breathes Hongjoong.
Keeping himself deep in Seonghwa’s throat, Hongjoong starts grinding deeper in a slow pace to feel his throat close as he swallows. Seonghwa moans at how heavy he feels, his brain going a little fuzzy the more the head bumps the back of his throat. He’s getting tired of this pace, though. The hand not holding his dress starts playing with Hongjoong’s balls, squeezing and caressing the sensitive skin. He finds the area is soaked with a mix of their liquids and moans again.
That seems to be all Hongjoong can take. He grips Seonghwa’s hair so tight he fears he might pull some hair out, plants his feet flatter onto the ground, then thrusts impossibly deeper. He groans loud at the surprised close of Seonghwa’s throat, but then pulls him up just before the tip fall from his mouth and roughly shoves him back down. All Seonghwa can think is, Finally.
Hongjoong does this thing where he tries to seem like he’ll go slow and be patient. That only lasts about five minutes before he gets bored. Seonghwa isn’t any better, but he’s come to terms with how desperate Hongjoong makes him.
The car is full of the wet sounds of Seonghwa getting his throat abused. No music being able to hide Hongjoong’s hisses the faster he thrusts. Seonghwa hollows his cheeks some more, tightening the ring of his spit-covered lips until Hongjoong’s hips stutter and he hears the thud of his head hitting the back of the seat. It doesn’t matter how much they’ve fucked, Seonghwa has never seen Hongjoong lose his mind more than when he’s in Seonghwa’s mouth. He’s just lucky Seonghwa would likely die without the feeling of Hongjoong’s heavy cock on his tongue.
Seonghwa can tell Hongjoong is getting close when his thrusting loses its consistency and he keeps holding Seonghwa down for longer periods, as it trying to decide if he wants to cum there or not. The decision is made for him as Seonghwa tightens his lips even more and presses harder onto Hongjoong’s balls.
”Shit! Star. I’m gonna come.” Seonghwa hums and Hongjoong growls. “You want me to come down your throat? Huh? You gonna swallow every last bit of me?”
It only takes one more thrust before Seonghwa is held down and ropes of cum shoot down his throat, not even needing to swallow. Hongjoong’s breath stutters along with his hips as he rides out his high. He’s always so loud before he cums, but then gets quiet as it hits him, like he holds his breath through it. He soon gets sensitive, but not softer, Seonghwa notes with nasty glee, and lets go of Seonghwa’s hair to let him up. Just to be an ass, Seonghwa hums as he slowly pulls off, silently laughing to himself as Hongjoong’s warning hiss.
His lips must be so swollen and wet, so he makes sure to smile up at Hongjoong. There’s also this wetness around the corners of his eyes from Hongjoong’s rough handling, so his eye makeup must look disheveled. He doesn’t feel gross, however. The way Hongjoong is looking at him makes him feel like the most beautiful person in the world, especially when he starts smoothing out his tangled hair and wiping tears and spit from his face. It makes Seonghwa want to suck him right back down his throat.
“Come up here, baby,” says Hongjoong while patting his thigh. Seonghwa moves fast to plant himself right on top of Hongjoong’s glistening hard cock, giggling as he grips his waist tight. “I really wanna eat you out right now.”
”Hm. How badly?”
They’re nose to nose and Seonghwa gets another wave of innocent fondness through his burning desire. Hongjoong hasn’t blinked in the last few seconds. Seonghwa is sure he hasn’t either, but he’s more focused on Hongjoong’s glowing skin and the fact that his fingertips might be bruising his skin. It fills him with delight at the thought of looking at himself tomorrow and seeing them.
Hongjoong grinds his hips up, causing Seonghwa to let out a choked moan, and says, “So bad, Star. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw you before the show.”
Seonghwa responds by kissing him, but it’s more biting than any actual kissing. He can’t stop moving his hands all over Hongjoong’s hair and neck and under his blazer, where he finds he’s not wearing anything underneath. Seonghwa’s own little present.
Hongjoong moves his hands from Seonghwa’s waist to the hem of the lace panties. He snaps it lightly against his skin, curls it around his finger and tugs it, just enough for Seonghwa to feel the pull against his own hard cock. Each tease, Hongjoong’s fingers so close but never touching, is bringing him closer and closer past the edge of sanity. At one point, he thinks Hongjoong is going to pull them off, but he pulls them higher up until they rest on his hip bones, trapping his cock tighter.
“Are you going to keep them on?” Hongjoong phrases it like a question, but his eyes say that it really isn’t one.
Since Seonghwa is a good boy, he nods and brings his hands off Hongjoong to readjust his dress to be held tightly up to his chest. Hongjoong’s lips look so red and wet and Seonghwa has to hold back from biting them even more while he’s nudged off of him to sit back in his seat. He keeps his legs open as Hongjoong slides onto his knees, eyes never breaking from his.
Hongjoong makes sure Seonghwa is watching as he starts planting deceivingly light kisses just under where he’s clutching his dress, but not missing the chance to bite to hear Seonghwa whine.
“Stop teasing.” Like Seonghwa hadn’t been doing the same thing, but he’s getting impatient now.
Hongjoong’s warm breath causes goosebumps to rise on Seonghwa’s skin where he laughs. He trails more kisses and nibbles down until he reaches the black lace. Seonghwa’s breath picks up as Hongjoong starts nosing his bulge. He licks the material and Seonghwa throws his back, drops his grip of his dress, and buries his hands in Hongjoong’s hair, not quite tugging yet. He finally gives Seonghwa some grace and moves the lace to the side so let his cock spring free and reveal the last part of his little lace surprise.
”Oh my god,” Hongjoong whines and throws his head back. He locks his eyes back down. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it, Star.”
Seonghwa can’t help the laugh that escapes him. He’s so helplessly endeared by Hongjoong that it distracts him from him twisting the plug nestled inside him. It’s plain and unassuming. Seonghwa is slightly embarrassed to admit that he’s been wearing it since he got ready for the show. Each tiny thrust of it punches the air out of his lungs, but it just misses the spot he wants Hongjoong to hit the most and it’s starting to piss him off.
“Just-Just take it out.” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “Please.”
The plug is pulled slowly, then thrusted back in with a quick jerk, Seonghwa moaning impatiently and Hongjoong chuckling. He finally pulls it out completely, throwing it next to Seonghwa. He tries not to think of the lube staining the leather seats. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to think much with Hongjoong attaching his mouth to his rim, sucking up some of the dripping lube. Seonghwa’s legs twitch and he keens much too loud. He curls his fingers in Hongjoong’s hair and tugs to get him even closer. As much as Hongjoong loves Seonghwa going down on him, he loves eating him out maybe just as much. Or maybe they can’t get enough of each other.
There is little romance in the way Hongjoong licks and sucks, like his tongue is impatient just to keep tasting Seonghwa and to never stop. He starts licking inside him, and it’s getting hard for Seonghwa not to close his legs around his head. Hongjoong, face buried to the point where Seonghwa can only see his eyes, wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s thighs and firmly holds them over his shoulders, so he has nowhere to escape the more insistent Hongjoong becomes.
Seonghwa can only gasp out, “Please, please, please,” as Hongjoong hums into him. He can’t stop his hips from grinding on his face, the pleasure a perfect mix of too much and not enough.
Hongjoong pulls off just far enough to say against his skin, “I want you to come for me, pretty.” Then his tongue starts licking and poking with more precision, knowing just the buttons to press to have Seonghwa melting against the seat and shuddering in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He takes one hand off Hongjoong’s hair to start teasing himself. All it takes is one swipe of his slit that is leaking like a goddamn fountain, and a squeeze of his head to have his orgasm hitting hard. His body tenses as it paints his tanned skin and doesn’t spare the dress. Hongjoong is still mapping out his pulsing walls while Seonghwa bites his bottom lip extra hard to keep his noises down, but he’s breathing so heavily through his nose that it echoes along with Hongjoong’s slurping. He only pulls away when Seonghwa quietly whines and tugs his hair to push him off.
The bottom half of Hongjoong’s face is wet and he’s smirking. Seonghwa is about to tell him to stop looking so smug, but three fingers replace his mouth and cause him to moan loudly. He still feels so sensitive and every rough thrust of Hongjoong’s curious fingers brings tears back to his eyes.
“Joong— Oh my god— Wait!”
In a delicious contrast, Hongjoong still has one arm wrapped around his leg and starts kissing all over his twitching thigh. It makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter like a storm. He bites at the innermost point of his thigh and Seonghwa clenches so hard he thinks he dies.
“One more,” orders Hongjoong as he starts twisting and curling his fingers. With one particular thrust, he grazes Seonghwa’s prostate and he has no choice but to succumb to Hongjoong’s want. Stars take over his vision and he’s pretty sure he black out for a good second before coming back to reality. His cock is sputtering weakly against his stomach and the overstimulation is great, but Hongjoong is gentle as he rubs his leg and kisses the heated skin.
“Mm, my beautiful wife,” coos Hongjoong with another kiss. “My brightest star. You’re so perfect for me.”
He is gentle pulling his fingers out, leaving Seonghwa empty for the first time tonight. Despite the relief, he can’t help but pout. Hongjoong laughs when he notices and plants a long kiss to Seonghwa’s knee before getting back into his seat, tugging Seonghwa along with him back into his lap.
Seonghwa feels boneless as he’s moved. He wants to melt into Hongjoong’s skin so that they have no more space between them, but he settles for wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s neck and leaning his head on his shoulder. He hums something that sounds like a purr as Hongjoong runs his fingers through his hair, down his spine. Hongjoong is hard against Seonghwa’s sensitive cock, and he can’t help but be too aware how empty he is. He whines, finding words a little hard to string together.
“What, my star?” Hongjoong slowly grinds upwards. “Feeling too empty, my love?”
Seonghwa whines again and nips at Hongjoong’s neck. He laughs, a puff of air tickling his ear, and holds Seonghwa’s waist. He holds him up with one hand and uses the other to guide the head to Seonghwa’s fluttering rim, just letting him feel the blunt shape of it for a moment. He is much too needy for that and lowers himself before Hongjoong has a chance to do it himself and they both let out long moans as Seonghwa settles. He does give himself a moment to feel how Hongjoong perfectly fills him up, but Hongjoong, probably as some kind of punishment for not waiting, takes a steadier hold of Seonghwa’s waist and starts moving upwards. It brings pressure off Seonghwa’s sensitive prostate and gives him space to breathe. Right before Hongjoong can fall out, he slams Seonghwa back down. He grunts as Seonghwa squeaks, repeating that same rhythm for a few more thrusts.
“Please,” says Seonghwa against Hongjoong’s neck. Every hit to that sweet spot blanks out his mind and he thinks he might be drooling.
“Please, what?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy and strained in his ear. He nibbles at Seonghwa’s earlobe, then gives it a couple kitten licks. Heat bubbles dangerously close to another overflowing boil low in Seonghwa’s gut.
“Harder.”
“Aw, is that how we ask for something?”
Hongjoong is lucky Seonghwa can’t move or he’d get a slap to the back of his head.
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa draws out, trying to move his hips to go faster, but Hongjoong grips tighter and stops all motion with just his tip inside. “No! No, no, don’t-don’t stop!”
“Is that how we ask for something we want, my star?” repeats Hongjoong in a tone bordering condescending. “I can stop right here if you’re not gonna be the good boy I know you are.”
“I’m good! I’m your good boy. Your star,” babbles Seonghwa.
“You are, but good boys ask nicely.” Hongjoong rubs soothing circles onto his skin. “So, what would you like me to do?”
“I-I,” starts Seonghwa, trying to surface a sea of words. “I want you harder. Faster. Make me come. Please.”
“See? Was that so hard, my star?” Hongjoong is cooing all kinds of praises, but Seonghwa is much more focused on the faster, harder pace he starts to set.
Their skin slapping fills the entire space. Hongjoong can’t shut up now that he’s got Seonghwa a pleading, crying mess. Each hit has him choking out steady moans and his cock, trapped between their stomachs, is not helping him try to last as long as he’d like. Hongjoong only stops once to adjust his feet before thrusting up.
“Ah-ah-ah,” moans Seonghwa with each rough thrust. He can’t even find any words and he can’t hear anything other than the wet slaps of Hongjoong’s thighs against his ass. He thinks his eyes might be closed or he’s blacked out again, but every touch, every lick, bite, or grip Hongjoong gives him is amplified by a thousand percent the closer he gets to his orgasm.
”You’re being so good for me.” Like a moment of clarity, Hongjoong’s voice shines at the end of the tunnel. He can only respond with garbled nonsense, but he thinks Hongjoong can understand well enough. He must also tell Seonghwa is teetering on the edge because he gives a couple rougher thrusts then pulls out. Seonghwa sobs as Hongjoong shushes him gently. “I’m just moving us, angel.”
Seonghwa is moved onto his back with Hongjoong leaning over him, legs resting around his shoulders. He yells as Hongjoong is back inside with one smooth push and immediately picks up the pace he set before, but he feels so much deeper. He can’t even squirm if he wanted to. Hongjoong has his waist in his hands, legs basically around his neck, and he’s leaning over enough where Seonghwa can only take what he’s given. He can move his hands, so he tries to grasp something. The seat, Hongjoong, his own tangled hair, even slapping his hands against the window. Everything keeps falling out of his hands and it just makes the feeling of falling even more present.
Hongjoong leans over even more, moving his grip from Seonghwa’s waist to the seat on either side of Seonghwa’s head. The new position somehow brings Hongjoong even deeper. The assault to Seonghwa’s prostate is relentless and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before his orgasm is going to hit. It only takes Hongjoong kissing him deeply, Seonghwa lazily running his tongue over Hongjoong’s teeth, and him teasingly biting his tongue for it to hit like a truck. His eyes roll back in his skull as he tenses his entire body. For a while, it’s like he can’t breathe. His whole body feels like he’s on fire.
When he comes to, Hongjoong is still buried inside him, just grinding softly as he whispers in Seonghwa’s ear and pets down some of his hair that got stuck to his sweaty skin. Seonghwa’s tongue is heavy in his mouth and whimpers as Hongjoong keeps hitting him deep. His nerves are set alight so every move Hongjoong makes, especially given his very open position, feels as if he’s getting burned alive. He winces, but also notices Hongjoong hasn’t come yet. So, with a deep breath and bringing his ankles together, he keeps Hongjoong trapped inside him as his hole squeezes him, wanting nothing more than to keep him there forever.
Hongjoong groans against his shoulder. “Star, if you don’t stop…” He trails off in warning.
“Hongjoong, please,” begs Seonghwa. “Fill me up, please. Please, please, please— Ah!”
The car is once again filled with the sound of skin slapping as Hongjoong fucks into him in a desperate, almost primal pace. Seonghwa feels tears pour down his cheeks and his voice is all but gone with how much he’s been screaming. He can’t even think as Hongjoong takes what he needs, but there’s an overwhelming feeling of love that makes Seonghwa sob harder.
”I-I-I love-I love-you,” stutters Seonghwa through gasping moans.
Hongjoong groans. “I love you, too, Star. My beautiful star. My wife.” Each word is punctuated with a deep thrust. They get more inconsistent until he gives one last push, and buries himself to the hilt, spilling into him. He’s Seonghwa’s favorite plug, the way nothing can escape as long as he doesn't move. Hongjoong breathes hard against his neck and lays on him, which causes him to gasp.
“Sorry, sorry,” Hongjoong breathlessly chuckles.
They stay curled up as they catch their breath, exchanging sweet kisses and whispered giggles. It’s at the point where Seonghwa feels cum drying on his stomach and it’s not the best feeling in the world. His sweaty back causes him to curl his lip, which catches Hongjoong’s attention as they’re lip locked. He laughs and shifts his hips, both of them moaning at the movement.
“We need to get cleaned up,” mutters Seonghwa, but he doesn’t move from where he’s locked around Hongjoong. “I didn’t bring any of my makeup.”
“Yeah, we’re not going to that party,” says Hongjoong.
Seonghwa gives him a surprised look, but what he is going to say is cut off by a whimper as Hongjoong starts to pull out slowly.
“I know, Star. I know.”
Seonghwa’s legs are already sore as they’re being moved and he can’t imagine trying to walk once they arrive. He watches Hongjoong lean up to admire his doing. Cum leaks out and the feeling of it sends shivers throughout Seonghwa’s body. He naively thought that was it and let himself relax his muscles to leave himself in Hongjoong’s hands. Hongjoong’s hands which gathered up the dripping cum with a couple fingers then shoved back in Seonghwa’s hole.
“Too much, Hongjoong. Too much.” Seonghwa wiggles away while trying not to think too hard about the squelching sounds being made. He slaps at Hongjoong’s arm until he finally pulls his fingers out with a laugh. “And what did you mean we’re not going to the party—mmf!”
Hongjoong shoves his cum-covered fingers into Seonghwa’s mouth, filling his tastebuds with the salty cum and the aftertaste of the strawberry lube. Contrary to his lax body, Seonghwa can’t help but hollow his cheeks and lick it all up. He catches Hongjoong’s eyes and sees him take a shuddering breath with that familiar flicker of crazy he gets when he wants to eat him up. Too bad Seonghwa is down for the count. He could really use a hot bath. Actually, that reminds him.
He wraps his hands around Hongjoong’s wrist and slowly pulls his fingers out, but not without one final nip at his fingertips. With his eyes half-lidded, Seonghwa purrs, “What did you mean by we’re not going to the party?”
Hongjoong scoffs and pulls his own fingers free to wipe the spit on his disheveled blazer. “Please. I knew we weren’t going to be able to make it without jumping each other, so I told the driver to just take us home.”
“Home?” Seonghwa pushes himself up, hissing at the sharp pain that shoots up his spine. He glares, but Hongjoong is too busy awkwardly putting his pants back on to really notice.
“Yes. Home.” Hongjoong grunts as he wiggles his legs into the pants and buttons them up. He looks back over at Seonghwa and sees he’s still in the same spot, panties pulled to the side and covered in cum. He bites his lip and it makes Seonghwa a little nervous that they’ll never leave this car. “There was no way I was going to wait.”
“Oh, so you’re just insatiable?” Seonghwa teases with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head.
“For you? Always.” When it’s followed by a sleazy wink, Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but the blush breaks through any annoyance he was trying to convey.
“But I wanted to go to the party,” says Seonghwa through a pout. He lets Hongjoong slowly place the plug back inside him with a hiss, then move the lace panties back over. In front of them are some tissues, so Hongjoong takes a couple, and though they aren’t warm rags from home, they do the job enough to clean the cum off of Seonghwa’s stomach.
As he starts adjusting the black dress back down, trying to smooth the lost cause that is the wrinkles made, he says in a mock whine, “Aw, I’m sorry, my gorgeous wife. We can open a bottle of wine and order some fried chicken while we watch a movie. How’s that for a party?”
Butterflies flutter in Seonghwa’s stomach. While he loves after-parties and seeing people he knows and admires, a night in with his husband after a good fuck, and possibly the chance of another, sounds like the best night ever.
“As long as I get to pick the movie,” says Seonghwa, leaning over until he’s laying on top of Hongjoong.
”Anything for my pretty star.”