Work Text:
Jong-Woo isn’t sure when he started to crave it. Need it, even.
At first it was only convenient; Moon-Jo was there whenever he felt like exploding and ending everyone, willing to let him unleash all the feelings deep inside of him. It was, no, it is supposed to be only casual sex. He doesn’t even like Moon-Jo, at least he doesn’t think he does, the guy is annoying as hell but knows what he does.
Now? Now Jong-Woo loves the dark spark that appears in Moon-Jo’s black eyes whenever he sees him and seems to know what Jong-Woo needs. It’s not often, even with them living in the same residence. Moon-Jo works crazy hours every day and Jong-Woo is still a temp who gets loads of unfair workloads, making him do extra hours that they never pay him.
This is what he thinks when he is roughly shove against the door of his room, both of them just cross paths casually when Moon-Jo got back past 10PM. Jong-Woo was exiting the bathroom after a quick shower and one look was all they needed to let themselves get a little crazy for fun, even when they are still standing in the hallway of their shitty residence.
Nobody seems to be around, but Jong-Woo still manages to move a hand behind him and get his key blindly in until he can twist the knob and let the door fall open. If Moon-Jo had been a weaker man, they both would have stumble to the floor, but he is just as ready as Jong-Woo to take things to a more private setting so they can get their fill of this demanding feeling growing increasingly more with every new encounter between them.
Their kiss is filthy and open mouthed, but Jong-Woo can tell Moon-Jo is holding back, for some unknown reason. He breaks the kiss exasperated and wiggles himself free until Moon-Jo lets him stand down on the floor on his own legs.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, turning around to search for the lube he keeps under his clean clothes inside his suitcase. Moon-Jo’s heavy breathing is his only response for a moment.
“I’m sorry jagi, did I seem distracted?” he asks in response. Jong-Woo hums and takes the box of condoms out as well. He just had a shower, and he isn’t taking another one, thank you very much. Places both atop the desk and turns.
“You are holding back. Why?” their eyes meet, and Moon-Jo seems surprised at his statement but doesn’t deny it. His lips tense visibly, almost as if he is holding back a snarl or a grimace, Jong-Woo doesn’t know. “Look, whatever is in your head, obviously has you worked up. I don’t care what it is, but don’t try to hold anything back with me. Just let go, this is what all of this is about.” His hand moves in circles between them, letting the other know that even if they started this for Jong-Woo’s sake, he isn’t unwilling to let Moon-Jo take his own edge off with this.
Moon-Jo nods, strangely calm with Jong-Woo’s words.
“Whatever you want jagiya.” His voice sounds velvet smooth now, a deep timbre to it that only appears when they are about to go down and dirty. Jong-Woo smirks and walks towards him with slow sure steps.
“I want you to take me over until we are both done.” He takes him roughly by the neck and lowers him to trap his lips in a biting kiss, a moan escaping him when Moon-Jo reciprocates just as enthusiastically and roughly pulls him against him by the hips, fingers sliding and digging painfully in the soft flesh of his waist, shirt ridden up in their haste. “Get naked.” Commands Jong-Woo, his own hands fluttering towards his clothes to get rid of them, Moon-Jo following him and both quickly discarding all of their garments.
As soon as they are naked, Moon-Jo grabs him again by the hips and pushes him backwards towards the desk, rising him to sit him there, lips connecting quickly almost in sync.
The desk is for once, free of any clutter and Jong-Woo’s laptop, since he had been watching a movie on his bed earlier that night, the coldness seeps into his skin and he arches his back in response, body tingling with goosebumps. His hand slides down until grabbing the familiar bottle of lube, snapping it open and squirting a glob of it into his palm, then guiding said hand towards Moon-Jo’s hard cock and wrapping it around it softly.
Moon-Jo breaks the kiss at the unexpected coldness and looks down. His hands too moved towards the discarded bottle of lube, but Jong-Woo stops him, with his free hand, tightening the hold of the other and moving it up and down slowly until the whole member is all lubed up. He then grabs a condom and rips it open with his teeth, which he shouldn’t do but couldn’t care less. The slide down the heated member is smooth and he feels himself clench emptily at nothing in want.
“Fuck me now.” Breathes Jong-Woo, legs rising until his feet are atop the desk, obscenely open to show his fluttering hole. Moon-Jo seems to be frozen on the spot but after a few seconds and a harsh tug against his dick he snaps out of it.
“Are you sure?” his body is moving even when Jong-Woo hasn’t confirmed it, the tip of his cock nudging Jong-Woo’s rim tentatively. Jong-Woo rolls his eyes at him.
“Do it.” He snaps, hips moving down chasing the heat from Moon-Jo’s cock until finally Moon-Jo obliges, the blunt head of his member breaching the tight entrance and slowly making it’s way inside as deep as possible.
Jong-Woo moans loudly, eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected stretch and the obvious pain it makes him feel. But it still feels so good, he never thought he would be into this. His hips snap unconsciously, closer, and away, not used to bearing so much pain and pleasure combine. He can feel it all the way up to his column.
With Moon-Jo already bottom out deep inside him, they once again gravitate towards each other’s, lips clashing harshly, and like that they start a new slow rhythm that starts building up speed with every passing minute, both chasing their own pleasure.
Jong-Woo always feels so full whenever Moon-Jo fucks him, but this is on another level, he can even imagine the dick inside him bulging on his stomach and knows it’s a silly thought but that’s how full he feels at the moment. His toes curl against the desk, his fingers dig painfully into Moon-Jo’s hair and nape, nails digging crescent moon shapes and drawing blood, only spurring Moon-Jo on and making him moan into their kiss.
They part momentarily to breath and groan into their mouths, part only by mere centimeters. Their eyes meet as well, and something must be inside Jong-Woo’s eyes because Moon-Jo is hailing him up roughly, letting Jong-Woo sink deeper on the cock inside him until Moon-Jo has him harshly pressed against a wall, hips pistoning quickly, his cock dragging deliciously in and out of Jong-Woo’s hole.
“Fuck yeah, like that.” Groans Jong-Woo, nails dragging down all of Moon-Jo’s back with no restraint, not caring if the guy will have painful scratches to last for days.
Moon-Jo groans at him, hips stuttering momentarily before slowing down, dragging out their pleasure. His lips move towards Jong-Woo's neck, soft kisses peppering the tan skin he finds there and teasingly biting without force.
“Harder.” Jong-Woo clenches his legs around Moon-Jo’s hips, head lolling to the side to leave more room for the man against his neck. “Bite me harder. Sink your teeth. Make me bleed.” He is panting by the time he is done with his request, and his eyes roll back as soon as Moon-Jo sinks his teeth obediently in the juncture between neck and shoulder, the painful sting of tearing flesh making Jong-Woo whimper and sob in ectasis, the warm trickle of blood down his skin an out of body experience.
A teasing wet tongue laps up at the blood, and warm lips sooth the bite with warm kisses pressed against the skin, then pointy teeth are making a new tear a little down Jong-Woo’s shoulder, the dick inside him still moving deeply inside in circles, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. All of it is too much for him, but still not enough. His head knocks painfully back against the wall, and he groans dissatisfied. He wants more. He wants it rougher, harder. He wants it to hurt, to brand him, to break him and rebuild him anew.
“Fuck Moon-Jo, give me more. I need more.” Moon-Jo ignores him for a few seconds, too entertain soothing the bruised skin under his lips. Jong-Woo’s hand slides upwards from where he is sinking his nails on Moon-Jo’s shoulder and pulls at his hair harshly getting him away from his neck. “I said, more.” He grits through gritted teeth, already on edge but unable to be tip towards the void.
Moon-Jo’s hips stop their lazy moving and with incredibly shaky legs moves them towards the bed, carefully moving the laptop towards the now free desk before once again getting in between Jong-Woo legs and starting a punishing attack of deep harsh thrusts into the tight warm heat that envelops his cock so deliciously. He moans and groans, just as close as Jong-Woo to his climax. The sight of Jong-Woo spread below him and covered in bloody bites stirring his cock like nothing else before.
Jong-Woo is screaming loudly now, the metal bed frame hitting against the wall behind it. None of them care if they can be heard by the others, too preoccupied with the now.
“Jagiya, what do you need? What can I give you?” he pants, letting himself cover Jong-Woo’s body with his own, lips seeking the other’s lips and capturing them in a half kiss.
Jong-Woo throws his head back breaking the kiss, hips sliding down to meet Moon-Jo’s thrusts. He groans, unsure how to phrase what he desires deep inside.
“Make me beg more. Shut me up, I don’t know.” He whines and Moon-Jo tries to oblige the ambiguous request. In a spur of the moment, one Moon-Jo feels creative enough, he turns Jong-Woo to his hands and knees, and with force he grabs his hips, raising them to meet his thrusts directly, his focus in completely abusing Jong-Woo’s prostate enough to milk him without touching his dick.
“Like this jagi?” he pants, chest folded over Jong-Woo’s back, lips teasing the outer shell of his ear, warm breath fanning all over one of Jong-Woo’s side of his face.
“Yes.” He moans, nodding in response, eyes close, fists clench tightly around the ratty sheets that covered his bed. “Please, more.” He arches his back, moans low in his throat, and tries to tip himself over the edge with a hand reaching down to wrap around his painfully hard dick. Moon-Jo stops him, gripping him tightly by the wrist.
“No touching. You come like this.” Jong-Woo groans at the order whispered in his ear but still tries to free his hand in a daring move.
He doesn’t know if he regrets it or not when Moon-Jo stops fucking him to bend towards his clothes and grab the belt still looped into his pants. He ties it tightly around both of Jong-Woo’s hand after he stretches both of them above his head, shoulders pulled painfully taut, the bite hurting the more he is moved around.
“Moon-Jo, please.”
Jong-Woo is about to scream in distress at not being able to touch himself, when his head is pushed harshly against the pillow below him, almost restricting the air flow with the way his nose and mouth are covered by the yellowed fabric of the sheet covering his pillow. His dick twitches in response, and by the time he moves his head enough to take a needed gulp of breath, Moon-Jo is fucking him again, super hard and fast, the obscene squelching loud enough to compete with the creaking bed and loud thumps of the hits against the wall.
Moon-Jo is doing him so rough; his head is starting to lose focus in everything but the big cock inside him, dragging every time it retreats and then sinks back in, it’s warm feeling a comforting one for him. The back of his neck hurts with the pressure of Moon-Jo’s hand on it, and the bites on his shoulder and neck sting so much it feels good.
He uses the little strength in him to raise momentarily on his elbows and turn, barely able to mumble a few words. “Like that, give it to me rough please, I like it.” He croaks, voice trembling and distorted with the moans and sobs that spill increasingly more with every thrust inside.
His whole body is being propelled forward by the strength behind Moon-Jo’s movements, his hands pushing against the wall to not let his head collide with it. He clenches around Moon-Jo’s cock when he feels him once again bite into his shoulder, this time from behind and on the other side. As soon as he feels teeth pierce his skin he comes with a pained shout, dick spurting all over the sheets below him and his stomach, twitching the more his prostate continues to be abused by Moon-Jo’s frenetic thrusts. It’s not long before he feels him twitch inside him, cumming as well but into the condom, hips jolting to a stop after what seems to be several minutes, and finally settling, not yet getting out of inside Jong-Woo’s hole.
Jong-Woo feels completely drain and with zero strength, so he lets himself sag down into the nasty puddle of cum he made, not caring at the moment, more focus on the tingling that spreads throughout his whole body all the way to his toes.
The heaviness of Moon-Jo on top of him however is too much and so, he kicks him as best as he can.
“Get off.” He rasps, voice raspy after all the screaming and throat manhandling.
Moon-Jo obeys him almost immediately, although with a resign sigh. This is not their first rodeo after all.
The way the now soften cock drags against his insides make him squirm and Jong-Woo tries hard not to get horny all over again, already feeling the aftereffects of being fucked with no preparation and the way his body feels battered and injured in a way he never experience before after sex.
“Fuck.” He mumbles against the pillow, and silently thanks Moon-Jo for undoing the tight wrap of the belt around his wrists. They hurt.
He softly caress the flesh and turns on his back, cringing at the pain that shoots towards the bite at the back of his shoulder. Moon-Jo is already dressed, condom disposed on the little trashcan below Jong-Woo's desk, and is looping his belt once again around the loops on his pants, as if he just didn’t fuck Jong-Woo out of his mind and roughen him up like never before.
Jong-Woo doesn’t care, this is a no strings attached deal, but it still feels very business like the way Moon-Jo gets into his work suit once again. Jong-Woo can’t help snorting at the sight and after a while he too stands from the bed, slips into his boxers and reaches for the baby wipes he keeps below his bed for this kind of situations. He cleans the mess on his chest and after being content enough, dresses in his pajamas and changes the soiled blankets, Moon-Jo standing by the door only looking at him in silence.
After a while of only being watched, Jong-Woo sighs and turns, eyebrow raised, hands occupied with fluffing his pillow as much as he can when the things is more like a flat pancake than a real pillow.
“What? Leave already.” He says, voice flat. It’s fake, for some reason he feels like instead of clearing the feelings inside him, he develop some more. He doesn’t dare inspect and name them, afraid of what he will encounter.
Whatever they have going on was not something planned to make his heart, nor his head crave more than a convenient body and physical release, but still, Jong-Woo knows along the way something twisted between them. He knows this by the way Moon-Jo’s eyes intensity increases and he steps closer to him, still unspeaking.
After a while, he lowers himself enough to kiss Jong-Woo softly on the lips, corners lifting momentarily in a tiny smirk before mumbling against his lips.
“Rest well, jagi.” His heart stutters inside his chest at the words.
Jong-Woo is fucked, literally and figuratively.