Work Text:
Jong-Woo opens the door to the roof harshly, letting it widen completely on its hinges and crash once it makes contact with the wall to which it’s attached.
The awful mood he is in thanks to his horrible job, and his annoying as hell co-workers, only increases at having to deal with the creepy residents of this god forsaken residence.
He walks mindlessly around the empty space, trying to dissipate the fuming rage that wants to grow from the bottom of his belly. His hands are on his hips, and short quick breaths escape his mouth in harsh puffs in a pathetic attempt to let go of the negative feelings he keeps to himself.
He completes at least four circles around the wide space of the roof when he feels he is mostly calm down. He notices then the freshly watered plants and flowers that pepper the floor here and there and remembers that Mrs. Eom once told him she likes growing things in the roof, and that she keeps a small garden in which she has worked on for a while, with even a few mushrooms and spices thrown in between the colorful petals.
He softly touches the leaves of a few plants and flowers, momentarily forgetting the heated thoughts in his mind, and inclines himself to slightly smell the sweet perfume they release remembering the rose he bought when his nostalgia made him remember his mom back in Busan, trying to make a living in a rundown market.
He smiles softly, thinking how he doesn’t usually buy Ji-Eun flowers, even in special occasions. He would rather spend his money in a good meal with her or a thoughtful more lasting gift, still, she never fails to mention the lack of flowers on valentine’s day or her birthday with a few mindless comments here and there that only end up stinging him.
His wandering thoughts steer back to the plans in front of him, the soft flesh of the flowers feeling cool against his fingers, and it makes him want to crush them against his hand. He steps away from the light-yellow flower he is touching and turns to the other exotic plants on the far end of the roof. Bigger and more colorful plants are there, with splashes of pink, orange and purple, it makes a hypnotizing sight.
A particularly tall plant catches his eye, and he steps closer, identifying an alluring saccharine scent coming from it. It’s got lots of big green leaves on its stem and soft curly deltoidal-shape pink petals with a deep red center. He bends and catches a whiff, enthralled by the smell. Almost all flowers have that distinctive plant-like smell to them, even if they are sweet, but this one doesn’t. It could almost be a fake with perfume sprayed on it.
He touches the hairy bright yellow bulbs in the center, and the smell intensifies. He smiles, anger completely melted away while he enjoys what nature can provide so beautifully. Suddenly, the wind strengthens, and all the plants and flowers shake with it. Just when he is about to step away, so they don’t smack him in the face, the one that catched his eye earlier, releases a white like powder from its bulbs, making Jong-Woo sneeze several times by the intense sweet smell that he ends up breathing and even swallowing accidentally.
He stumbles back waving a hand in front of his face, eyes scrunch up at the hazy fog of the powdery substance lingering in front of him.
He coughs a little at the dry feeling in his throat at swallowing such and alien substance and decides to stop admiring nature for a while. He walks instead towards the rail of the roof and stares off into the distance while clearing his throat.
This is the usual spot he takes when he is up there, and it was even the same place where he and Moon-Jo first met each other. He grimaces at the memory, his enthusiastic past-self making him cringe at how he had fawned all over the dentist when he praised his novel.
A sudden itch in his neck makes him scratch himself absentmindedly, too far gone on his memories to notice the other strange feelings all at once overwhelming him. He clears his throat at the still ever-present dryness in it, and a shudder shakes his body, but he doesn’t feel cold at all, quite the contrary. He feels like suddenly burning up from the inside out. His skin starts feeling too tight for him and overly sensitive, the rough fabric of his shirt almost overwhelming him. He grips the metal railing hard and bends over with a groan.
Is he coming down with a fever out of nowhere? Perhaps having kept inside such nasty feelings for so long made him sick.
His forehead is starting to get wet with sweat, and he feels breathless out of nowhere, as if he had run a marathon. His palms and fingers itch and his body keeps exuding heat in waves. His body feels slightly weaken but energize at the same time, like he is getting thrown at him the last of his energy all clumped up in a ball so he can do something about the way his body is malfunctioning.
Someone clearing their throat behind him make him slightly turn, still mostly bend against the metal rail in front of him, the only support that keeps him up with the way his knees shake so much.
It’s Moon-Jo, who looks at him with a cocked head.
He huffs in annoyance, more at the situation itself than the sudden presence of the dentist on the roof with him.
“What?” he asks snappish, avoiding greetings and pleasantries for the time being.
“You okay, babe?” asks the dentist with slight concern on his voice but an impassive look on his face. Jong-Woo turns back around and looks at the floor below him, arms tightening on the metal railing supporting him. He nods jerkily and tries to take a slow breath but ends up gasping when his body shudders unexpectedly and a wave of arousal shoots to his dick.
That’s new. And wrong.
“Just, work stuff.” He says through gritted teeth, hoping to make the dentist leave him be. Though, he misses the way Moon-Jo’s eyes shine at the answer, more than happy to coerce Jong-Woo into killing his coworkers.
“Is that so?” he says with an even voice. He walks closer. Jong-Woo seems off, so perhaps this time whatever he had to go through at work finally took him to his breaking point. He tries to erase the big smile on his lips and keep himself collected. “Something particularly bad happened?” he asks, expecting perhaps a physical fight with one of them. The most troublesome, preferably. Or the boss.
Jong-Woo shakes his head and bites his tongue when a moan tries to break free from his tightly seal lips. His cock is fully erect now inside his pants, painfully pressing against the fabric of his jeans. The heat he is feeling is only making him feel even more feverish all over and he wants to get naked and preferably under a cold stream of water to cool himself.
“Please…” he mumbles. He is trying to beg the guy to leave him alone so he can curl in on himself on the floor and die, if possible, but he can’t finish his sentence, only a whimper plea leaving his lips.
Moon-Jo strains his ears, not sure he heard correctly and for once, he seems at a loss. He takes a better look at Jong-Woo, noticing that he isn’t only breathing harshly, in what Moon-Jo believed it was rage, but he is shaking like a leaf, knees about to buckle under him. He steps closer and places a hand on Jong-Woo’s shoulder, trying to see his face and gauge how he is.
"Are you feeling all right, babe?” he asks.
At the heavy feeling of Moon-Jo’s hand on his shoulder, Jong-Woo suddenly feels grounded and like a cool wave has wash over him. He sighs a little in relief and straightens, brain working a mile per hour to keep getting more of that refreshing feeling on his heated body. He turns, slapping away the hand that touched him and instead grabbing the collar of the white shirt Moon-Jo is wearing, pulling him towards him and essentially sandwiching him between the hard metal railing and the warm body of the dentist.
At the flushness of his bodies Jong-Woo feels a delirious calmness overwhelm him, and he wants more. Like the dentist is the medicine for his fevered body and he is just getting his daily doze.
Moon-Jo braces himself at being so suddenly pull against the writer, and so places his arms on each side of Jong-Woo, gripping tightly the metal bar in which he is reclining. In this new position, Moon-Jo can notice the splotchy cheeks and too dilated pupils on the younger guy. A weird if not unexpected sight for him, at this place and time. He cocks his head to the side, studying the writer in front of him, about to request an explanation of this strange behavior when he realizes there is something hard brushing against his thigh.
No. Not brushing. Humping.
He cocks an eyebrow and looks at Jong-Woo, who pulls him even closer towards him, bending him to get him on his level. Moon-Jo lets himself be pull passively.
“P-please…” mumbles Jong-Woo again, letting his eyes droop hazily and focus entirely on the pink lips in front of him. Looking so soft and inviting. All pink. Begging to be kissed and bitten. Jong-Woo does just that, by pulling harshly on the crumpled fabric between his fingers he crushes his mouth against the dentist’s pliable ones.
He kisses harshly on the perfect lips, bites them softly and then sucks on the lower lip, taking his tongue to trace the soft bitten skin and then wetly make his way inside that sinful mouth. It opens to him immediately and finds the other’s tongue to play with, moaning at the feeling of that appendage curling sensually against his own, giving as much as receiving.
Moon-Jo’s long arms release the railing and enclose around Jong-Woo’s waist, getting rid of any possible distance between them.
They continue kissing like that for several minutes, messy, with too much tongue and teeth but neither caring about it. Jong-Woo’s head feels heady with pleasure and his body burns for more contact against him. He slides a hand down Moon-Jo’s chest slowly, moaning at the hard muscles he feels under it. Once he reaches his goal he grasps Moon-Jo’s barely awaken dick, squeezing enthusiastically at the girth inside those black slacks.
Moon-Jo breaks the kiss with a groan and looks at him with wide eyes, hands now gripping the sides of Jong-Woo’s face to look at him in enrapturement. Jong-Woo breathes harshly, chest rising and falling quickly with every intake of breath.
They look at each for a while, like seeing the other for the first time and then a mutual silent understanding crosses between them and they crush their mouths again in a breath-taking kiss, Moon-Jo’s sleazy hands sliding around to grip Jong-Woo’s ass and squeeze it before one of the hands rises enough to slide inside the jeans and underwear. A playful finger circles his entrance and Jong-Woo shudders at the touch, lips trembling against Moon-Jo’s and the kiss freezes like that, with their mouths press against the other but without moving, only stealing each other’s breath.
“What do you want babe?” asks Moon-Jo barely moving his lips against Jong-Woo’s.
Jong-Woo swallows hard and closes his eyes, lowering his head to rest it in Moon-Jo’s shoulder, gripping with his hand the already wrinkled white shirt of the dentist. The teasing finger is still slowly caressing his rim, making him shudder in anticipation.
He hasn’t touch himself there since he was in college, way before Ji-Eun, when he was a young liberal guy that wanted to experience every new thing college had to offer. He had even slept with a few guys back then, but it hadn’t been mind blowing enough to consider it a permanent thing in his lifestyle.
However, that touch alone on his rear was enough to make his cock drip inside his underwear, a gentle gasp leaving his mouth. His body made the choice for him, and then his brain just seemed to agree.
He moves backwards, trying to get it inside of him, the heat radiating from his body becoming almost unbearably whenever the dentist stops touching him. He needed him. He needed more.
“Just fuck me.” He says in a breath, making sure to not leave anything to interpretation, eyes fixated on Moon-Jo’s dark ones. Moon-Jo smiles slightly and nods, happy with Jong-Woo’s response.
“I like it when you speak your mind babe.” He says, removing his hand from inside Jong-Woo’s pants. Jong-Woo is about to protest, offended that Moon-Jo isn’t going to continue but clicking his mouth shut when deft long fingers unfasten his jeans and then lowers them with his underwear, letting the clothes pool around his knees.
In a flurry of movement, the dentist has him turn around bend over the railing and with three fingers deep inside his mouth. Jong-Woo sucks on them greedily, moaning and gasping around them when he feels the dentist’s other hand softly massage his balls and caress his twitching hole with a thumb.
Jong-Woo has a moment to himself when the fingers leave his mouth to wonder why the hell is he acting like a bitch in heat if that is so out of character from him. He is usually more collected than this while horny, less of a mess. Even more dominant, nothing like he is now.
The thought leaves his mind as soon as a lone wet finger breaches his rim and shoves itself deeply all the way to the last knuckle. He moans loudly and pushes back against the digit, enjoying it a little too much. The saliva used to coat it isn’t the best as lube but it helps to make the finger slide in easier instead if it had been shoved in dry, still, his mind is almost out of service with the way his nerves all around his body sing in content at the stimulation he is getting, so he merely ignores the barely there sting and closes his eyes tightly, overwhelm when the finger turns to two.
“You take my fingers so well babe. You like this?” Moon-Jo’s voice sounds close to his ear and breathless. Jong-Woo can feel him draped over him, chest to back connected intimately even with clothes on.
Jong-Woo nods, delirious, and moans loudly when the scissoring inside of his passage starts to roughly make space for another finger. The drag of his sneakers in the gravel of the roof’s floor sounds too loud for his ears, the breathing next to his ear as well. Suddenly Jong-Woo feels like everything is too much for him and at the same time not enough, so he whines, feeling torn between wanting this to end and wanting to prolong this for hours to no end.
Moon-Jo’s hot breath next to his face retracts, and the warm heat against his back parts as well, leaving him feeling expose and at the dentist’s mercy. A whine leaves him when the two fingers inside brush his prostate delicately, slowly, as if the dentist knows exactly where that bundle of nerves is and doesn’t want to exploit it for the sake of making the experience drag.
He pushes back and groans, an angry huff then escaping his mouth at Moon-Jo’s thoroughness with the prepping. Moon-Jo chuckles behind him and indulges him removing the two fingers and shoving three instead, a tight fit even with all the scissoring and stretching. Jong-Woo doesn’t mind, he likes feeling so full. It’s almost a calming balm on his scattered mind and feverish body.
The scorching heat between his legs makes him groan and the long fingers inside of him make him whimper. He bends even more, parting his legs as much as the stuck pants around his knees allow him. Moon-Jo is fucking him relentlessly with only his fingers and that makes Jong-Woo completely delirious, softly begging for more. He buries his face in the crook of his elbow, trying to keep the begging at bay but his wanton moans and rocking hips speak louder for him.
A big, splayed hand positions on his lower back, carefully raising his shirt and caressing his heated skin softly, Jong-Woo’s eyes flutter at the contact and he nods to himself lost in pleasure while feeling his sphincter contract around the three fingers that stretch him obscenely. The soft caress of that hand that holds him steady, slides upwards, without caring about the sweat slick skin of his back. It grabs his shoulder momentarily and grips it tightly, then lets go and slides back down. Quite the contrast with the rough thrusts inside his hole.
“Now.” He orders snapping his head to the side to send a heated glare at Moon-Jo, and pushing himself backwards, trying to tell Moon-Jo to get on with it. The retracting fingers leave his gaping wet hole and the only thing keeping him still is the deafening sound of a zipper sliding down and a belt buckle being undone.
For a moment Jong-Woo thinks about the place they are in but soon forgets about that when Moon-Jo grabs Jong-Woo’s hips firmly in both hands and aligns himself, sliding teasingly the head of his cock all over Jong-Woo’s crack. Before Jong-Woo can snap angrily at him for taking so long, Moon-Jo focusses on his task and moves slowly, letting the head of his cock catch on the stretched rim in front of him and then pushes inside slowly, a low deep groan leaving his mouth at the sudden vice grip around his cock. It’s so hot.
A satisfy whine escapes Jong-Woo but he ignores it, too far gone in the feeling of being fully stretched by Moon-Jo’s dick inside of him. It feels so hot and big. He wants it to split him in half and satiate the thirst he is drowning in. A few moments pass while they both get accustomed to the overwhelming sensation and after a while, Moon-Jo retracts his hips, dragging his cock out of the tight passage to then shove it in again, slowly, getting used to it.
For Jong-Woo is not enough, he wants more. No, he needs more. His body is completely on fire, and he seriously just wants to be fucked hard and fast or else he will go mad. He pushes back against the dentist’s hips when he is pushing forward to get it in and Jong-Woo wails embarrassingly loud at it.
If possible, he bends even more and turns to look at Moon-Jo coyly over his shoulder, a smoldering gaze on his eyes and sweat pouring down his forehead.
“Give me more. Faster.” He whispers wiggling his ass enticingly and clenching his hole around the hot girth inside him. Moon-Jo opens his mouth in a silent moan and nods jerkily, tightening his grip on Jong-Woo’s hips and starting a harder and faster thrusting, obeying Jong-Woo without question. After that, Jong-Woo is really too far gone to care if he is loud or not, or if one of the other residents has come up because of all the noise, or if he is being seen or not by someone in another building. He only cares that Moon-Jo’s cock keeps brushing against his prostate and filling him so deliciously with every harsh thrust.
They move surprisingly, in synchrony, with Jong-Woo pushing back every time Moon-Jo pushes forward against him, meeting in the middle and making the slapping sound of skin to skin even more obscene in the quiet of the falling night by the quick crescendo of their movements.
He gets momentarily distracted when he opens his eyes and is met with the high distance between him and the floor below them on the other side of the railing. He is grateful not many people walk these streets or else he would probably die in embarrassment, the pounding he is getting too obvious to ignore.
His chest hurts at being pressed too tightly against the metal railing, and he gasps in relief when one of Moon-Jo’s hand travel upwards from his chest to his neck and pulls him upwards, pressing his back against the broad chest of the dentist, feeling Moon-Jo’s heartbeat on his back and that cock inside of him reach even deeper. He groans at the intensity of it all, sucking in a harsh breath when the hand around his throat presses harder around it. One of his hands move on its own accord and wraps around his cock, quickly moving it up and down to chase his release. He feels so close already, and the fever that had been clouding his head seems to dissipate more and more, making him even more aware of the incredible pleasure coursing through out his whole body. Moon-Jo’s other hand wraps itself around the one on his dick and removes it, taking its place instead and matching the movements with the quick pace of his hips snapping forward against Jong-Woo’s ass.
At this point, Jong-Woo is almost sobbing, too overwhelm with everything that is going on. The cock pushing inside against his tight walls, the constant pounding of his prostate, the big warm hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it quickly in sync with the thrusts inside him. And Moon-Jo’s other hand holding him by the neck to turn him and kiss him filthily on the mouth, tongues clashing against each other’s with abandon. Jong-Woo throws a hand back and grips Moon-Jo’s long dark strands that sway freely with the air. His other hand grips tightly the fabric of Moon-Jo’s pants around his thigh, gripping tightly and squeezing the flesh he is able to grasp, clawing with his nails in wild desperation to ground himself.
Moon-Jo’s hips start to stutter, signaling he is reaching his limit and Jong-Woo moans on his mouth, clenching himself unconsciously at the mere thought of having Moon-Jo orgasm inside of him. With renew vigor, Moon-Jo moves frantically, wanting nothing more than to reach his peak. The intensity of it all makes Jong-Woo double over, and he breaks the kiss to allow his body that freedom. One of his legs raises awkwardly, still stuck with his jeans around his knees, but he can’t help it, his body is moving on its own, not yet climaxing but so close to it, that it starts to hurt. He wants to curl on in himself at the overwhelming feeling that overload his prostate, the sensation doubling over with the quick movements around his sensitive cock.
Finally, Jong-Woo feels the faltering of Moon-Jo’s hips and a warm explosion inside of him, signaling the dentist’s orgasm, who still dazed with pleasure continues fucking him, the squelching sounds of his softening dick still abusing his hole fill with cum is almost pornographic to Jong-Woo’s ears, and then he too is cumming harshly, splashing his release in the low wall of the railing in front of him and the floor, vision blacking out momentarily, a loud unashamed shout getting out of him. Moon-Jo keeps rubbing his cock, milking him for everything he’s got and softly shoving in and out his soften dick inside of him, abusing his over stimulated prostate. Jong-Woo whimpers and slaps Moon-Jo on the thigh, throat dry and mind too jumble for him to form any coherent sentences, his body jerking uncontrollably at the continue stimuli.
“No more.” He pleads at last, voice croaking awkwardly. Moon-Jo releases his spent cock and stops moving entirely, sliding out completely, not breaking the hug he has around the writer. Jong-Woo is glad about that because his legs falter horribly once he is getting down from his high, strength long gone and exhaustion pouring out of him.
He can’t bring himself to move. At least not yet.
Moon-Jo, ever the thoughtful person with Jong-Woo, bends down to pull up the underwear and jeans around Jong-Woo’s legs, placing all his clothes in place before fastening his own slacks.
“That was…unexpected.” Says Moon-Jo, one of his hands places itself in the lower part of his back. Jong-Woo has slumped himself forward on the railing, whizzing a little because of the metal digging into his chest but he doesn’t care.
The itch in his throat is gone, and even if he still feels quite hot, he doesn’t think he is as feverish as he used to a few moments ago. He straightens with the little dignity he still has left and clears his throat, avoiding looking in the eye at the dentist.
“Nothing happened here.” He mumbles and walks away slowly. Sadly, limping. Now that he has come down from his high, he feels the price of that intense fucking. He clenches his teeth and does his best to ignore it, but it’s difficult when he still can’t really feel his legs. Moon-Jo ignores his previous comment and hugs his waist lightly, supporting his waist to help him down the stairs. They don’t say anything, and Jong-Woo is glad because right this instant he can feel the semen drip out of his hole and soil his underwear. His ears redden at the embarrassing experience, and he keep his eyes on the floor, waiting for it to swallow him whole.
When they are about to enter the 3rd floor, from it comes Mrs. Eom, a familiar tall pink flower in a pot being held between her chubby hands. She stops momentarily and studies them both, a smile stretching her dark pink lips in amusement.
“Oh my, something happened?” she asks, staring at the sweaty slump form that Moon-Jo is holding almost entirely, Jong-Woo too tired to keep himself upright.
“Mr. 303 twisted an ankle while on the roof. I’m helping him get safely to his room.” Explains Moon-Jo in a polite voice, a mask of indifference on his features, completely ignoring his own very obvious disheveled appearance. His eyes travel down to the flower on Mrs. Eom hands, and he raises and eyebrow slightly. “New plant?” he asks, changing the subject successfully.
Mrs. Eom beams at him and nods.
“It’s a hibiscus moscheutos. I’ve got it at the market. They said this makes the sweetest perfumes.” Moon-Jo hums, clearly not all that interested. Jong-Woo sends a distrustful look to the flower but doesn’t say anything otherwise. “Oh, they also mentioned something about this being an aphrodisiac plant, but I don’t know about that.” She mentions while sidestepping and making her way up the roof.
Jong-Woo’s eyes widen exponentially at that bit of information, and he remembers the way he breathed in the suspicious white pollen from that flower right before he started feeling all weird, tingly and feverish. Moon-Jo looks at him with a cocked eyebrow and Jong-Woo looks away in embarrassment.
“Can you take me to the bathroom?” he requests in a low voice.
Moon-Jo is about to ask if he is sure if he doesn’t want to just go and rest, but the obvious awkward movements Jong-Woo is making while rubbing his thighs against each other give Moon-Jo his answer. He holds back an amuse smile and follows Jong-Woo’s request, remembering to stop at their rooms to grab their toiletries first and then noisily placing the lock in the bathroom door.
Jong-Woo turns to him with wide eyes and Moon-Jo only smirks.
“Want some help cleaning up, babe?” he asks, advancing in a threatening yet seductive way. Jong-Woo gulps in apprehension but ends up nodding anyway.
He is already deep in it, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.