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The changing room door clicked shut behind Zeal Ginjoka with a soft, final sound that felt louder than it should have. He let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping under the too-tight wedding suit the staff had mistakenly handed him, Freodore’s suit, clearly cut for someone smaller, with the fabric pulling across his chest and shoulders like it was trying to strangle him. He’d told them it was fine, that they had an hour and a half before the shoot, so there was no need to panic. He could just change back.
But the moment he looked up, every thought of swapping clothes vanished. Freodore was still there.
The cool, auraful Freodore, always the one who looked untouchable on stage, sharp-eyed and composed, stood in front of the mirror in the massive white suit that was supposed to be Zeal’s. The jacket swallowed his petite frame whole, sleeves hanging past his knuckles, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs. He’d only bothered with the coat so far; the rest of the outfit lay neatly folded on the sofa like he’d given up halfway. One hand held a makeup brush; the other tilted his chin as he fixed the subtle shimmer under his eyes. His expression was focused, a little annoyed, the way it always got when things weren’t perfect.
He looked… fuck, he looked adorable.
Zeal couldn’t stop staring. The oversized fabric made Freo’s slim waist and narrow shoulders even more obvious, with the way the coat draped off one side exposing the delicate line of his collarbone. The pants pooled around his ankles, making his legs look impossibly small. That cool aura was still there, but right now it was wrapped in something soft and vulnerable that made heat pool low in Zeal’s stomach.
Freodore caught his reflection in the mirror. He turned, baggy sleeves flopping, and raised a perfectly arched brow.
“Ginjoka?”
Zeal’s mouth curved into a slow, crooked smile. He walked over, calm as ever, and folded the suit he was wearing, the one that should have been Freodore’s, the one that had been strangling Zeal minutes ago. He then set it aside neatly on the counter, out of the way.
"Freodore," he answered softly, voice low and teasing, matching the way Freo had said his name.
He stepped closer. Close enough that the oversized coat brushed against his own too-tight shirt underneath. Freodore’s ears, those sensitive, pretty ears that always flushed when he was flustered, were right there. Zeal reached up, gentle fingertips tracing the shell of one before sliding behind it, thumb brushing the soft skin just below.
Freodore’s breath hitched.
“Zeal…” he started, his voice still in that cool, controlled tone, but there was a warning in it. “We have a shoot after this. Think about what you’re about to do next.”
Zeal’s other hand settled on Freodore’s hip, with his fingers splaying over the loose fabric, feeling the warmth of the body underneath. He leaned in, lips hovering just above Freo’s.
“I won’t regret it,” he murmured, breath warm against Freodore’s mouth. “Not if you let me, may I?”
Freodore stared at him for a long second. Then he let out a sigh, a long and dramatic sigh, the kind of sigh that said he knew exactly how much trouble this was going to be. He rolled his eyes, just a little, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smile.
“…Thirty minutes,” he said flatly. “Max. And if we’re late, I’m blaming you, Ginjoka.”
Zeal’s grin turned bright and hungry. He kissed him then, pulling Freo closer. Freo made a soft sound against his lips, hands coming up to grip the front of Zeal’s shirt even as the oversized sleeves bunched around his wrists.
Zeal reached back without breaking the kiss, fingers finding the lock on the changing room door. Click.
Then he lifted Freodore effortlessly, his hands sliding under that ridiculous oversized coat to grip his thighs, and set him down on the wide makeup table. The mirror behind them reflected everything… Freodore’s petite body, swallowed by the huge suit, with his legs parting just enough for Zeal to step between them, and the usual composure of his already starting to crack.
Zeal’s hands pushed the heavy coat off one shoulder, lips trailing down the newly exposed skin of Freo’s neck as he whispered against it.
“Thirty minutes is plenty, Freo… if I make them count.” He nipped lightly at the spot just below Freodore’s ear, feeling the way the smaller man shivered despite himself.
“Ready?”
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Freodore let out another soft, resigned sigh, tilting his head just enough to give Zeal better access to his neck. His expression stayed mostly composed—cool to be exact, almost detached, but his body betrayed him. Every time Zeal’s lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear or along the delicate line of his collarbone, a tiny, involuntary sound slipped out into a quiet hitch of breath, a barely-there whimper that he tried to swallow back.
And Zeal noticed. Of course, he did; this is the Zeal Ginjoka we talked about, always noticing even a single sound...
He kept the pace deliberately slow at first, savouring the way Freo’s frame looked swallowed up in that oversized wedding coat. One hand slid under Freodore’s thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he gently but firmly spread his legs wider, opening him up. The other hand settled possessively on Freo’s narrow waist, thumb stroking over the warm skin where the loose shirt had ridden up.
Freodore’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. Then they opened again, meeting Zeal’s gaze with that signature cool intensity, even as his cheeks began to flush. His hands braced behind him on the makeup table, fingers curling against the edge to steady himself.
Without warning, Zeal tugged Freo’s waist forward, pulling him right to the edge of the table so their bodies pressed flush. Freo’s spread thighs framed Zeal’s hips perfectly. The sudden closeness drew a sharper breath from Freo, his lips parting.
Zeal took the invitation immediately, capturing his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss again. He poured everything into it, tongue sliding against Freo’s, tasting the faint sweetness of his lip gloss—while his free hand worked between them.
He slicked two fingers with his own saliva, warm and generous, then reached down past the Freo’s petite waist. Freodore tensed for half a second as the first finger circled his entrance, teasing, before slowly pushing inside. A second finger joined soon after, scissoring gently, stretching him open with patient, practiced movements.
Freo’s breath stuttered against Zeal’s lips. He didn’t moan loudly, he never did—but the way his thighs trembled and his fingers tightened on the table told Zeal everything. Every so often, Freodore’s eyes would open again, locking onto Zeal’s with a mix of warning and reluctant heat, like he was still trying to remind both of them that this was supposed to be quick.
Zeal added a third finger, curling it just right, searching for that spot that always made Freo’s cool facade crack. When he found it, Freodore’s back arched slightly, a soft, broken sound escaping before he could stop it.
Zeal smiled into the kiss, pressing his own hard bulge, that still trapped in the too-tight pants, against Freodore’s flat, petite belly. The friction was maddening, and the heat of Freo’s body so close, so, so ready for him.
“Still think thirty minutes is enough?” Zeal murmured between his lips, voice rough with want, fingers still moving slowly and deeply inside him. “Because I could stay right here… making you feel this good… for a lot longer than that, Freo.”
Freodore’s only reply was a shaky exhale and the way his thighs squeezed around Zeal’s hips, silently demanding more even as he tried to keep his composure.
Zeal’s thumb brushed over Freo’s rim as he leaned in to kiss him again, deeper this time, while his fingers continued their relentless prep – stretching, curling, teasing that sweet spot until Freo’s quiet little sounds grew just a fraction louder.
“Tell me when you’re ready for me, Freo,” he whispered hotly against his ear, nipping the sensitive lobe. “I want to hear you say it.”
Freodore’s voice came out in a low, unimpressed mumble, eyes half-lidded with that signature cool detachment even as his body betrayed him. “…hmm, you just try to get me to say things.”
Zeal couldn’t help it; he let a laugh out, soft and warm, the sound rumbling against Freo’s skin. He leaned in and pressed a loving kiss to the tip of Freo’s nose, then another to the delicate skin just beneath his eyes. Freodore squinched his eyes shut at the gentle affection, a tiny, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself.
Zeal’s hand finally left Freo’s waist long enough to unzip his own pants. The moment the zipper came down, his hard, long cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, landing warm and thick against Freodore’s petite belly. The contrast was obscene, the oversized wedding coat still hanging off one of Freo’s shoulders and Zeal’s thick length resting right there on that flat, smooth stomach.
At the same time, Zeal’s other hand slipped under the baggy shirt, fingers finding one of Freo’s sensitive nipples. He toyed with it lazily, rolling and pinching just enough to draw another quiet hitch of breath from the smaller man, while his three fingers continued their slow, thorough stretching inside Freo’s tight heat—curling, scissoring, and pressing deliberately against that spot that made Freo’s thighs tremble.
“It’s hard to get you to say stuff like that…” Zeal murmured, voice husky with affection and lust, lips brushing Freo’s temple. “But I can ask you today, right? Like a special occasion.”
Freodore hummed, the sound low and a little breathless as Zeal’s fingers kept exploring him, stretching him open so patiently. His hands stayed braced behind him on the table, but his hips gave the tiniest, involuntary roll against those invading fingers.
“…Hmm… After this, make sure to do something to earn it… I don't like giving and getting stuff so easily…” he replied, his voice still trying to stay cool, though it had gone softer, huskier. “I think I’m ready for whatsoever, Ginjoka.”
That was all Zeal needed.
He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, earning a soft, involuntary whine from Freo that the smaller man immediately tried to swallow. Zeal replaced it with the blunt, leaking head of his cock, rubbing it teasingly up and down Freo’s slick entrance, coating himself in the mix of saliva and Freo’s own arousal.
“Good boy,” Zeal whispered against his lips, pressing another kiss there and there, gentle, almost reverent… before he started pushing in. With a soft groan, Freo replied, "Don't call me that..."
The stretch was slow, burning, and perfect. Inch by inch, Zeal sank into Freo’s tight heat, watching every flicker of expression on that pretty face, the way Freo’s lashes fluttered, the way his lips parted on a silent gasp, the way his composure cracked just enough for his cheeks to flush darker.
Zeal bottomed out with a low groan, buried to the hilt inside that petite body, the oversized coat still draped messily around Freo’s shoulders like a fallen halo. He stayed there for a moment, letting Freo adjust, with his forehead pressed to Freo’s as he panted.
“Hah… you did good, Freo,” he breathed, one hand cradling the back of Freo’s head while the other gripped his thigh, holding him open. “It's perfect… so perfect.”
He gave one shallow, experimental roll of his hips, grinding deep, and felt Freodore clench around him in response.
“Thirty minutes," Zeal reminded him with a wicked little smile, already starting to move—slow, deep thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside. “I’m gonna make every second count. I wish to make you see heaven.”
Freodore’s only answer was a shaky exhale and the way his legs wrapped a little tighter around Zeal’s waist, pulling him impossibly deeper.
Zeal kissed him again, harder this time, and began to fuck him properly, steady and relentless, as the wet sound of skin meeting skin started to fill the changing room, as the oversized wedding suit slipped further down Freo’s shoulders with every thrust.
“Tell me how it feels," Zeal murmured hotly against his ear, voice dripping with want. “Even if it’s just one word… I want to hear you say it, Freodore.”
…
Freo’s breathing had turned ragged now, each exhale shaky and uneven as he stared down between their bodies with wide, glassy eyes.
Every deep thrust made his flat little belly bulge obscenely. The thick outline of Zeal’s cock was clearly visible under the smooth skin, dragging inward and then pushing up again as Zeal bottomed out. Freo flinched hard each time the fat head kissed his deepest spot, that relentless pressure hitting so far inside it felt like it was rearranging him.
What a monster… the thought flashed through his mind, half-dazed. Zeal was barely even all the way in despite how tightly Freo was stretched around him.
And then Zeal had the audacity to smirk and lean down, voice low and teasing against his ear.
“Does your tummy feel weird, Freo?”
Freodore’s eyes narrowed instantly, even through the haze of pleasure. He hated that word. Hated it.
“You just try to poke a reaction out of me, and also don't say that…I hate it,” he breathed out, voice hoarse and breathless, trying so hard to keep it cool even while his body betrayed him with another full-body shiver. Zeal just laughed, sounding so warm, delighted, and maybe a little wicked, as he kept rolling his hips in that steady, devastating rhythm.
By now, they had stripped the rest of the clothes away, folding them neatly on the sofa so they could still wear the wedding suits for the shoot later. Freodore was completely naked on the makeup table, skin flushed pink, legs spread wide around Zeal’s waist. Zeal had only kept his tight white undershirt on, the thin fabric clinging to his chest as he fucked into Freo with deep, controlled strokes.
He was enjoying every second of it—watching the way Freo’s body curled and rolled involuntarily each time his cock dragged perfectly over that sweet spot inside him. While Freo’s cock twitched untouched against his own bulging belly and leaked steadily.
Of course, Zeal couldn’t resist teasing more.
He dipped his head, tongue flicking out to lick one of Freo’s sensitive nipples in a slow, wet stripe. Then he grazed it gently with his teeth, tugging just enough to make Freo’s breath hitch sharply. Freodore’s hand flew up, covering his mouth with the back of his palm to muffle the sound that almost escaped.
Zeal grinned against his skin and sealed his lips around the nipple, sucking hard while his hips snapped forward harder, chasing that building climax. The wet, obscene sounds of skin slapping and the slick slide of his cock pounding into Freo’s stretched hole filled the small room.
Freo’s free hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. His thighs trembled around Zeal’s waist, heels digging into the small of Zeal’s back as if trying to pull him even deeper.
“Mmm—hngh hah, Freo…” Zeal groaned around the nipple, sucking harder, tongue swirling as he drove in deep and stayed there for a moment, grinding in slow circles so the head of his cock rubbed relentlessly against Freo’s prostate. “You’re clenching so tight… gonna come for me soon, aren’t you?”
He switched to the other nipple, biting down lightly before sucking again, hips never stopping their punishing rhythm. Freo’s belly kept bulging with every thrust, the sight driving Zeal wild.
Freo’s palm was still pressed tight over his mouth, but the tiny, broken whimpers leaking through were getting louder, and slowly getting harder to hide.
Zeal lifted his head just enough to look at Freo’s flushed face, his eyes dark with lust.
“Thirty minutes is almost up… but I don’t think I’m stopping until you come all over yourself, Freo. Let me hear you, just once. Say my name when you do…please, Freo?”
He angled his hips, slamming in particularly deep, and sucked hard on Freo’s nipple at the same time, determined to push his beloved right over the edge.
Slowly, the pace had turned relentless. Freodore couldn’t hold back anymore. Soft, breathy moans and broken little gasps spilt from his lips no matter how hard he tried to bite them down. Each deep thrust punched another sound out of him, into a quiet, helpless, embarrassingly sweet moan.
And Zeal drank every single one in.
Without warning, Zeal hooked his arms under Freo’s knees and pressed him down fully into missionary on the makeup table. The new angle forced Freodore’s back to arch sharply, head falling back as a louder moan tore from his throat. His petite body was completely open now, legs pushed up and spread wide, every inch of Zeal’s thick cock driving straight into that perfect spot.
Zeal leaned over him, chest to chest, wrapping his arms around Freo’s smaller frame in a tight, possessive hug. His undershirt was damp with sweat, sticking to both of them as he buried his face against Freo’s neck.
“You feel so good,” Zeal whispered against his skin, his voice rough with pleasure. “So tight… so warm… taking me so deep like this. My darling designer… you’re perfect.”
Freodore’s hands clutched at Zeal’s back, nails digging into the fabric of the undershirt as his moans grew higher, needier.
Zeal’s hips stuttered, then slammed in one final time, burying himself to the hilt. He came hard, groaning low and deep as thick, hot pulses of cum flooded Freo’s insides. Rope after rope—more than Freo expected—pumped deep into him until his lower belly actually swelled slightly, a soft, noticeable bulge forming from the sheer volume.
Freo’s eyes widened in surprise, a shaky gasp escaping him as he felt himself being filled so full it was almost too much. Zeal stayed buried inside, panting against Freo’s shoulder while they both caught their breath. The only sounds were their heavy breathing and the faint wet drip of excess cum leaking around where they were still joined.
After a long moment, Freo, the cool, composed Freodore, actually pouted. Just a tiny, adorable little pout as he reached down and gently pressed a hand to his slightly swollen belly, feeling the warmth and the fullness inside him.
Zeal’s eyes softened instantly, a fond laugh bubbling out of him.
“…What kind of kink is this now?” Freo muttered, his voice still breathy, cheeks flushed dark. “Of course you want this…”
Zeal laughed again, brighter this time, unable to help it. Freo looked so ridiculously cute like this—naked, freshly fucked, belly slightly bulging with his cum, and pouting like a spoiled prince.
“Ups, sorgy…I can't help it, you know. You’re too adorable,” Zeal teased, pressing a kiss to Freo’s pouty lips.
“I’m not adorable, don't call me that,” Freo huffed, turning his face away even as his ears burned pinker.
But the moment he shifted, he felt it again, Zeal’s cock, still buried deep inside him, twitching back to full hardness again, stretching his cum-filled hole even more.
Freodore’s eyes snapped back to Zeal’s face, lips parting in disbelief.
“Already…?” he breathed, his voice cracking just a little.
Zeal grinned, slow and wicked, rolling his hips in a lazy circle that made the cum inside Freo slosh warmly.
“Can’t help it," he murmured, voice dropping low. “You’re too cute when you pout. Makes me want to keep you like this all day… stuffed full and leaking my cum.”
He leaned down, capturing Freo’s lips in a deep, filthy kiss while his hand gently rubbed over that soft, cum-swollen belly.
“Thirty minutes are long gone… but I don’t think we’re done yet, Freo.”
Zeal gave one slow, deep thrust, pushing the mess even deeper, and whispered against his mouth, “Want me to plug you up so you can feel me inside you during the whole shoot? Or should I just fuck another load into you right now?”
He waited, still buried to the hilt, cock throbbing impatiently as he watched Freo’s face with hungry, loving eyes.
Freodore groaned softly, pressing his forehead against Zeal’s shoulder as another sigh escaped him.
“…Just… plug it…” he muttered, voice still husky from everything they’d done. “We need to take photos… I don’t want to ruin it. Make sure there is no leak, you understand, Ginjoka. If you do…”
He then gave Zeal a long, stern look, clearly telling Zeal to actually take this seriously while judging him... It was like a displeased cat judging its owner.
Zeal finally laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he nodded. "A-ay… Yes, sir.”
He grabbed a clean towel from the rack, then scooped Freodore up, bridal-style, without warning. Freo let out a tiny, surprised huff but didn’t fight it, arms loosely looping around Zeal’s neck as he was carried into the small attached shower room inside the changing suite.
Zeal set him down gently on the tiled bench, then reached into his bag for the pretty little plug he’d secretly brought, silky black silicone with a delicate silver base, sized just right to stay snug inside Freo’s petite body. Freo rarely grumbled, but right now he was doing exactly that under his breath, his cheeks still flushed as he sat there naked and leaking cum down his thighs.
Zeal knelt between his spread legs, kissing him sweetly, slowly, lingering, and full of affection, while one hand gently pushed the plug inside. Freo tensed for a second, then relaxed with a soft exhale as the toy slid home, sealing everything Zeal had pumped into him. The base nestled perfectly between his cheeks, keeping him full and plugged tight.
“Good job, Freodore~,” Zeal whispered teasingly against his lips, then turned on the warm shower.
They washed each other quickly but thoroughly, Zeal’s hands careful and reverent as he cleaned Freo’s skin, stealing soft kisses every few seconds. Freo let him, eyes half-lidded, still a little dazed from the intensity earlier. By the time they stepped out and dried off, they had roughly an hour left before the shoot. Plenty of time to fix their hair, redo makeup, and slip back into those white suits.
Freodore stood in front of the mirror in just a towel, already reaching for his makeup palette, when he muttered under his breath,
“Unbelievable… I can imagine what Seible would say if he knew…”
Zeal grinned widely as he tugged on his undershirt again. “That he can’t believe we didn’t invite him and Kaelix?”
“WELL, I’m glad we don’t,” Freo replied flatly, dabbing concealer under his eyes with practised precision. “They would not stop freaking out about it. I don’t care what happens after the photo shoot, but now let’s pay attention to the collab, got it, Ginjoka?”
Zeal hummed happily, stepping up behind him and wrapping arms around Freo’s waist from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.
“Got it, Freodore~” he sang.
Freodore rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He could already feel the plug shifting slightly with every small movement, a constant, warm reminder of what they’d just done. His belly still felt a little softer, a little fuller than usual, and the thought made his ears burn again.
Zeal noticed and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.
“You’re still the coolest one in the group, you know that?” he murmured. “Even when you’re all plugged up and carrying my cum.”
“Shut up, Ginjoka,” Freo said, but there was no real heat in it, only that faint, adorable pout creeping back onto his face. Zeal laughed softly and finally let him go so they could both start getting ready properly.
The wedding suits went back on, Zeal in the properly fitted one this time, Freo in the one that still looked a touch too big on his petite frame, giving him that unintentionally cute silhouette again. Makeup was touched up, hair styled, and, by the time the staff knocked on the door to check if they were ready, both of them looked perfectly polished, professional, and ready for the collab shoot.
Only the faint flush on Freo’s cheeks and the secret, wicked glint in Zeal’s eyes hinted at anything more.
Zeal leaned in one last time before they stepped out, whispering just for Freo to hear:
“Try not to clench too much during the photos, okay? Wouldn’t want that pretty plug to slip.”
Freodore shot him a death glare that somehow still looked adorable and gave Zeal a one last pinch.
“…Thirty minutes was clearly not enough for you, Ginjoka.”
Somehow Zeal’s grin brightened.
“And well, at least it's worth every extra second.”