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It’s late, late at night when Wonwoo finds himself outside the door to Junhui’s little shop. He’s been closed for hours; probably fast asleep upstairs. Wonwoo has a spare key but he’s hesitant in using it.
He’s here to see Junhui, of course, but he would almost be happy to find no one home at all.
The night is warm, too warm for the heavy sweater Wonwoo is wearing, or the jacket he has stacked on top of it. There’s sweat beading on his brow and the soft brush of the breeze makes him shudder.
With a frown, he turns away from the shop door and paces halfway down the block, pulling his clothing tighter. He would rather subject himself to a long list of torments before storming up to Junhui’s apartment so he can ask him to—
A punishing throb in his head derails Wonwoo’s train of thought. It’s almost a kindness, even with the pain. He grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body aches, the pain radiating out from his gut all the way to the tips of his fingers.
It started a week ago as a headache and a dry feeling in the back of his throat. When the fever started, he called in to work sick. After that, it was a horrible thirst he couldn’t get rid of and dreams of all kinds of things that Wonwoo never imagined before. Hazy and lust-filled, even though Wonwoo felt too weak and battered to act on any of his body’s urges.
He didn’t call his older brother until he woke up one morning to a smear of blood on his sheets and a tail newly sprouted at the small of his back, dark and whip-like. The call wasn’t very comforting; Wonwoo only has one option to deal with this. So much for his optimism that their dad’s inhuman nature affected Bohyuk but left him alone.
Wonwoo is half-incubus, but it’s never mattered before this. He swallows vainly several times, trying to wet his dry throat.
Slowly, he turns back around and walks towards Junhui’s door again. With trembling fingers, he digs his phone out of his jacket, staring at the sign in front of the door.
Lucky Paw Tattoos & Piercings. Junhui owns the shop alongside Minghao, the spiky little witch who keeps things running smoothly. Wonwoo has his own tattoo from Junhui; a rune imprinted on the back of his neck in special enchanted ink. He let Junhui pick it. Wonwoo doesn’t know anything about witchcraft, to begin with.
Junhui showed him a picture before he started and told Wonwoo it was for protection.
He’s unsteady in dialing Junhui’s number, slumping his shoulders in and gripping his stomach with one hand. Junhui is probably asleep. He probably won’t answer. Wonwoo is going to be faced with the prospect of picking up a total stranger or fucking dying.
“Wonwoo?” Junhui asks, his voice a bright chirp in Wonwoo’s ear. “What are you doing up? Aren’t you still sick?”
“I’m outside,” Wonwoo says, his voice low and heavy. “Can you let me up?”
“You have keys,” Junhui says, though Wonwoo can hear the front door to his apartment creaking open. “Give me a minute.”
He hangs up and Wonwoo pushes his phone back in the pocket of his pants, wiping his sweaty palms off on his pants.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to ask Junhui this. He’s never even tried to kiss Junhui before, let along sleep with him. But there’s no one else that he thinks he could stand to ask, either. Junhui might really be his only hope for survival.
The knowledge is chilling. Strangely, it doesn’t manage to ease the very mundane anxiety in his stomach.
Junhui has an old sweater and soft pants on, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He unlocks the shop door and lets Wonwoo inside, his smile tempered.
“Hey, you don’t look good,” he says, grabbing at Wonwoo’s arm to steady his unstable gait. Wonwoo nods, pushing his hair away from his face.
“I don’t feel so good,” he says, his fingers digging into Junhui’s wrist in return. Junhui isn’t touching his bare skin but the heat of his grip is still incredible. As soon as he gets close, some primal instinct in the back of Wonwoo’s mind wakes.
He grabs for Junhui’s shoulder, fingers sliding into the back of his hair. Junhui blinks at him, his lips just beginning to part before Wonwoo kisses him. It’s a dry, off-center kiss but it still seems to shock Junhui. He keeps his grip on Wonwoo’s arm but pulls back, a nervous laugh on his lips.
“Are you trying to infect me?” He says, a flush on his face. “Let’s go upstairs. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
Wonwoo lets himself be led up tp Junhui’s apartment, settling on his old couch with humiliation burning in his stomach. He should leave before this has a chance to get any worse.
“I’m not sick,” Wonwoo says when Junhui wanders off to the kitchen to make him tea. Junhui laughs, pivoting to stare at him with a shake of his head.
“You’re not?” He asks. “By what definition?”
“I mean… I’m not sick sick,” Wonwoo says, his head a little fuzzy. “That’s not what’s wrong with me.”
Now that Junhui is there in front of him, it’s much harder to ignore the desire screaming out from his core. He wants nothing more than to feel one of Junhui’s broad, careful hands on his bare skin. If he shuts his eyes, he can remember the feeling of Junhui’s fingers on the back of his neck when he was tattooing Wonwoo. He can catalog every time in the last 6 months that Wen Junhui has put a hand on him.
“Then what is wrong with you?” Junhui asks, still a little playful. Maybe he thinks Wonwoo is trying to lead him into a guessing game or something else foolish.
“I…” Wonwoo pushes his glasses up on top of his head, covering his face with his hands. “I need someone to have sex with me.”
The room goes deadly quiet. If not for that, Wonwoo wouldn’t be sure that Junhui heard him at all, his voice comes out so muffled.
“What?” Junhui says, his voice an octave higher than before. “Are you having a dry spell?”
Wonwoo stands slowly, shrugging off the heavy jacket he has on and letting it fall to the floor. He turns around, pulling up the black of his sweater until he can free the tail— his tail. It’s a strange sensation to feel it whip free in the air, curling slightly before drooping next to one of his legs. He turns back around slowly, spots swimming in his vision.
“Half-incubus,” he says, wetting his dry lips.
“Wonwoo,” Junhui says, his expression owlish. “You’re not serious.”
Wonwoo nods slowly, his fingers knotted in the hem of his sweater. “That’s why— that’s why I came here.”
“You mean with have sex with me?” Junhui asks, his eyebrows shooting up under his bangs. Wonwoo bites the corner of his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic.
He doesn’t want to tell Junhui the full truth; that he’s never had anyone this way before. That he can’t stomach the idea of asking a stranger to fill this need. The truth would only make Junhui feel obligated to intervene.
“I can go,” Wonwoo says, reaching back to grab his coat once again.
“Wait, wait,” Junhui says, waving his hands in front of him. “Hang on. That’s why you’re so messed up? Because you need someone to…” He trails off, a furrow forming between his eyebrows. “And you wanna do it with me. How bad is it?”
“Not good,” Wonwoo says, fighting the shiver that wants to creep down his spine. Junhui’s pupils are wide and dark in the limited light of his apartment and every moment Wonwoo spends not crushing their bodies together is a unique agony.
“Okay,” Junhui says, taking a deep breath. “Okay, yeah. Sure. We can do that.”
“Junnie,” Wonwoo says, a slight frown on his face. Even though this is what he came here for, it doesn’t feel right to have Junhui accept. “Are… are you sure?”
“You need me, right? That’s what you’re saying?” He takes a step closer and where Wonwoo is expecting to find a cocky smile on his face, there’s only a slight parting of lips.
“Yes,” Wonwoo says, his heartbeat rocketing in his chest. Junhui closes the distance further, gently prying the coat from Wonwoo’s fingers and letting it fall to the floor again.
“Then I’ll help,” he says, a small smile on his face. He puts one hand on the side of Wonwoo’s face, fingers spread along his neck. The touch itself is tender but the brush of bare skin only adds to the roaring fire in Wonwoo’s stomach and he makes a fractured, hungry sound in response.
“You’re too warm,” Junhui says, his thumb following the line of Wonwoo’s cheek. Wonwoo grabs at his shoulders and kisses him again before Junhui can babble any further. He does a better job of it this time; or maybe Junhui is anticipating it and tilts his face to meet Wonwoo’s lips properly with his own.
Either way, Wonwoo opens his mouth to the kiss, his tongue finding Junhui’s. It only takes a little encouragement for Junhui to cradle the back of his head and kiss him more deeply, less carefully.
The apartment is small and Wonwoo is familiar with the layout. Still, the trip from the tiny living room to the bedroom feels blurry. Junhui deposits his glasses on the dresser when they arrive and plucks Wonwoo’s carefully off of his face to do the same with them. When he comes close enough, Wonwoo grabs for him. wrestling Junhui’s shirt over his head. He presses into Junhui’s bare chest, hands exploring the smooth skin of his back frantically, nails catching on his shoulders and making him hiss.
Junhui leans one knee on the bed, pressing Wonwoo down beneath him and kissing him again. He’s more confident this time, matching the desperate hunger that rolls off of Wonwoo in waves. Junhui’s fingers slide under his sweater, thumbing at Wonwoo’s hipbones. The press of his hands makes Wonwoo aware of how hard he is in his jeans; he’s been that way since Junhui was close enough to touch him.
“Fuck,” Wonwoo says when they separate again, tossing an arm over his face. Junhui breathes out a laugh, inching the sweater up Wonwoo’s stomach.
“Does it always get like this?” He asks as if Wonwoo has ever done this before. Wonwoo squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head though he’s not sure if Junhui can really see it.
“Never,” Wonwoo says, his back arching to follow the light touch of Junhui’s fingertips along his ribs. He shudders again, not from the fever this time. Junhui tugs at his sweater once more and Wonwoo gives up on covering his face to lift his arms and allow it to be pulled over his head.
Junhui’s thumbs find the notch of his hips again and Wonwoo’s breath heaves unevenly in his chest. He can only hope he won’t always be this sensitive. As it is, he’s rolling his hips up against nothing, trying to find friction from the air.
In response, Junhui’s fingers pluck open the button of his jeans, drawing the zipper down. Wonwoo tips his head back, grabbing at Junhui’s arm to steady himself. When Junhui’s fingers find his cock, Wonwoo jerks and almost throws himself off the bed, mouth open in a gasp.
“Breathe,” Junhui says, his fingers loose around the shaft of Wonwoo’s cock.
The instruction isn’t fair— the air flutters uselessly out of Wonwoo’s lungs with every light stroke of Junhui’s hand. Precome leaks from the slit of his cock down Junhui’s knuckles and Wonwoo rolls his head to the side, clapping a hand over his mouth.
He’s touched himself before, of course. But his hands are not Junhui’s hands. And Wonwoo has spent a lot of time thinking about Junhui’s hands. He drags his thumb over the slit, pressing down a little harder and Wonwoo’s vision sparkles.
“It has been awhile, huh?” Junhui asks, his voice just as cheerful while he jerks Wonwoo off as it always is. It’s bizarre but it makes Wonwoo feel more at ease.
“Junnie,” he says, pulling his hand away from his mouth. “I’ve never… I haven’t slept with anyone.”
Again, Junhui freezes. Fear that he’ll pull away makes Wonwoo sit up on his elbows, bringing his face close to Junhui’s. His skin is flushed down his chest and Wonwoo wants to put his mouth on it.
“It’s fine,” he says, his voice straining. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I need— I need you to…”
Junhui’s fingers tighten slightly around his cock. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
Wonwoo shakes his head, lip caught between his teeth to cover his heavy breathing.
He pitches forward, fingers wrapping around the back of Wonwoo’s neck to pull him in. He kisses Wonwoo more gently this time, fingers pushing Wonwoo’s hair away from his sweat-sticky forehead. He nips at Wonwoo’s lower lip until his mouth opens, tongue exploring the cavern of his mouth carefully. His hand remains wrapped around Wonwoo’s cock, stroking him slowly enough to keep Wonwoo from building toward a finish.
He’s already naked under Junhui, pants kicked to the floor, underwear forgotten in his haste to get out of the house. That makes it easy for Junhui’s hands to explore his body. His fingers stop at Wonwoo’s nipples, rolling one hardened bud in a slow circle until Wonwoo gasps.
“Don’t go slow,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head back and forth hard. “Please. I can’t wait.”
Junhui makes a small bitten off sound, his mouth pressed against Wonwoo’s neck. Wonwoo stretches one arm out, his fingers curling in the elastic waist of Junhui’s pants.
“Okay,” he says, pressing wet kisses under Wonwoo’s jaw. “Whatever you want.”
He releases Wonwoo’s dick only to help shove his pants off his hips, kicking them away. Wonwoo’s hand slides without thinking down his back and the curve of his ass, gripping onto the back of his thigh. Junhui’s teeth graze the hollow of his throat, then in response to the sound Wonwoo makes, he pauses to sink them in slowly.
Wonwoo groans, the sound slipping out of his mouth without a chance to stop it. He rolls his hips into Junhui’s again, precome dragging a slick trail over his stomach. Wonwoo presses his palm between their bodies to grasp carefully at Junhui’s cock, feeling the weight of it in his palm. Junhui sighs, his breath hot on Wonwoo’s neck, hips chasing Wonwoo’s hand.
His fingers slide over the tip of Junhui’s cock, pausing at the small round metal bead at the very tip. Junhui makes a small sound at the touch then laughs, lifting his head and looking down. He takes in the piercing like he’s surprised by it himself.
“When did you get that?” Wonwoo asks, his fingers dragging curiously along Junhui’s cock. Junhui swallows hard, his mouth falling open.
“Soonyoung did it awhile ago,” Junhui says, dipping his head so his forehead is against Wonwoo’s chest. “I forgot. I can take it out.”
Wonwoo’s thumb slides down the shaft of his cock, pressing into the other end of the piercing when he finds it. Junhui shivers in a satisfying way and picks up a slow rhythm of stroking him. If he tells Junhui to take it out, it’s only another delay. The very idea makes him want to scream and wrap all his limbs around Junhui to anchor him in place.
Besides— “Is it gonna hurt?” He asks, circling the slit of Junhui’s cock again, skirting around the metal ball. Junhui shakes his head, his fingers digging into Wonwoo’s hips. “Then leave it.”
It’s not such a surprise that he’s picked up a weird piercing or two. Both of Junhui’s arms are covered in colorful tattoos. Most of them are runes or other enchantments, his own ideas or suggestions from Minghao. He has normal images too; a grinning fox, a crescent moon, a snake twined round two flowers. Wonwoo knows each of these; he could pick them out and trace them on Junhui’s skin.
Junhui sits up carefully, reaching over Wonwoo’s head to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He rummages inside for a moment before finding lube and a condom, dropping both of them next to Wonwoo. For a moment, Wonwoo stares. Then, he holds up the condom and clears his throat.
Junhui looks at it, pink flooding his face. “No?”
If the situation weren’t so dire, Wonwoo wouldn’t need Junhui to finish inside of him to consume the energy he needs. But Wonwoo has avoided it for as long as his body will allow and now there’s no half-measure that will help him.
“I need you to…” He can’t quite push the words out, dropping the condom once again. Junhui seems to realize what he means because he leaves it alone, grabbing the lube instead. He coats his fingers in a layer that seems excessive to Wonwoo, rubbing it between his fingers before sliding his hand between Wonwoo’s thighs.
The graze of his fingers over Wonwoo’s hole is still cool enough to make him flinch slightly. But that might be due to the heat of his body; a fire that shows no sign of cooling. There’s a layer of sweat on his whole body, dripping down his temples and the side of his neck. Junhui licks a drop of it away, pushing his middle finger past the resistance of Wonwoo’s muscles.
Desperate as he is, Wonwoo’s body gives in easily to the intrusion, clutching hot and tight around the single digit. Junhui kisses his jaw, teeth pulling the lobe of his ear, curving his finger and dragging it out slowly before pushing in again.
“More,” Wonwoo says, groaning the word out. Junhui kisses him and Wonwoo grabs at the back of his head, teeth sinking into his lower lip. He groans into Junhui’s mouth when a second finger pushes inside him, his muscles protesting the stretch slightly.
Without his permission, Wonwoo’s recently sprouted tail snakes out to wrap around Junhui’s wrist. Junhui pauses for a moment, probably trying to gauge if this is Wonwoo trying to stop him. Wonwoo rolls his hips down in return, pushing Junhui’s fingers in deeper. The burn only ignites the desire to have Junhui fill him even more. When Junhui starts a slow pace of fucking Wonwoo on his fingers, the excess of lube makes the sound of it slick and filthy.
Wonwoo’s mouth parts silently when Junhui finally slide in a third after deeming him relaxed enough to take it. The stretch makes his toes curl, the slight pain getting lost in the heat coursing under his skin. It hardly matters if Junhui hurts him, so long as he’s touching Wonwoo at all.
Junhui’s fingers arch upward, pressing against the walls of Wonwoo’s body, sliding carefully in and out. It doesn’t occur to Wonwoo what Junhui is looking for until he finds it, fingers dragging over his prostate and making Wonwoo groan, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Touching himself wouldn’t do anything to quell his suffering so Wonwoo didn’t bother. Now, trembling too-close to the edge, he wishes he had taken some of the edge off himself.
“Close,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head back and forth. “Junnie— too close.”
“Got you,” Junhui mumbles in return, pressing a slow kiss to Wonwoo’s open mouth and rolling his fingers across Wonwoo’s prostate. The jolt of pleasure is a surprise. It makes Wonwoo jerk up, his cock spitting more precome onto the damp skin of his stomach. Junhui drags the thumb of his other hand through the mess, spreading it further. He keeps rubbing his fingers against Wonwoo’s prostate every time he fucks them in, driving him ruthlessly closer to oblivion.
When he comes, Wonwoo grabs at the back of Junhui’s head and squeezes his eyes all the way shut. He can feel the hot streaks that hit his stomach and leak down his still-hard cock. Junhui draws his fingers out and Wonwoo shakes his head, nails dragging down Junhui’s neck.
“Still need you,” Wonwoo says, wrapping one leg around Junhui’s waist. Junhui lets out a shaky breath but nods, his hands coming down to bracket Wonwoo’s thighs and splitting them further apart.
Wonwoo’s tail releases his wrist and he grabs onto Junhui’s shoulders. “Let me do it,” he says, pushing until Junhui is on the bed under him. He puts his knees on either side of Junhui’s hips, reaching back to slick an extra layer of lube over him. Wonwoo wraps his fingers around the base of Junhui’s cock, using that grasp to push the round head of Junhui’s cock inside himself.
He slides down fast, letting his hips land against Junhui’s. The suddenness of it makes Junhui jerk, grabbing at Wonwoo’s hips. It’s easy to take him— much easier than Wonwoo would’ve expected given the size. But his body clutches Junhui’s cock inside, hot and eager for more. He rocks his hips back and forth, ignoring Junhui’s weak attempt to stop him.
When he moves, Wonwoo can feel the studs of Junhui’s piercing dragging against his walls as well. The muscles on his neck stand out stark under the skin when Junhui grits his teeth together and leans his head back.
It takes a little bit for Wonwoo to find the right way to move his hips, rocking back on Junhui’s cock to take it all the way inside of him each time. The effort makes sweat bead on the back of his neck and slide down along his spine. Nothing hurts— even the aching of his thighs or the weak complaints of his oversensitive dick. He’s been aching for this in a way he didn’t understand; not just the sex but Junhui and the realization makes him grunt, struggling to choke down a sob. There are tears gathering up in the corners of Wonwoo’s eyes and he does his best to blink them away.
Junhui’s hands slide up his back, drawing Wonwoo down against his chest. When he’s close enough, Wonwoo throws his arms around Junhui’s neck, burrowing his face in the crook of his shoulder.
“Does it feel okay?” Junhui asks, his palm pressing between Wonwoo’s shoulder blades. He nods frantically, gasping against the hollow of Junhui’s throat.
With his face hidden, he can muffle the soft, punched-out sounds he’s making. They only get worse when Junhui settles his feet flat on the bed and pushes his hips up, grinding deeper into Wonwoo.
“You’re so tight,” Junhui says, low and close to Wonwoo’s ear. He presses his mouth against Wonwoo’s temple, screwing up into him harder. “Feels so good.”
It would be more mortifying to hear Junhui talk like this if it didn’t make Wonwoo’s brain buzz with warmth— like he’s actually accomplished something by making Junhui feel good.
One of his hands is wrapped around Wonwoo’s hip again, this time guiding him in long, smooth strokes. If Wonwoo shifts at just the right angle, the stud in Junhui’s cock drags against his prostate, firing red sparks in his vision.
“Junnie…” He barely gets the strangled mewl of his name out, mouth hanging open, panting for air. He’s on the edge of dissolving into desperate tears. “Fuck, I need you to come in me. Please.”
He’s impossibly close to the edge himself, cock flushed red and leaking onto the flat of Junhui’s abs. Junhui’s palm cups around his face, thumb pressing into his slack mouth. Wonwoo wraps his lips around it without thinking, rocking his hips on Junhui’s in defiance of the rhythm he has set.
It makes the studs push against his prostate again and that long, sweet drag of pleasure is enough to make him come again, only adding to the slick, excessive puddle he’s made on Junhui’s stomach. The finger in his mouth helps muffle the sound he makes; another mewling effort at calling Junhui’s name.
“I’ve got you,” Junhui says again, pushing hair away from Wonwoo’s face. He groans, holding Wonwoo’s hips down on him, grinding into the hot embrace of his body.
Wonwoo feels it when he comes; not just the heated rush of liquid inside his body but a sweeter rush of energy that tingles through his limbs, banishing the fog of desire in his brain. He digs his nails hard into Junhui’s shoulders, mouth draping open once again when Junhui’s thumb pops free.
He kisses Wonwoo instead, thrusting through the waves of his orgasm. There’s a deep, primal satisfaction settling in Wonwoo’s gut. When Junhui lays his head back against the pillows, he looks dazed, blinking his eyes slowly.
“Wonwoo,” he says, grunting when he carefully pulls his cock free. “Holy shit.”
Wonwoo nods his head in vague agreement, rolling to the side and collapsing against Junhui’s bed.
“Sorry,” he says, heart pounding in his throat.
Junhui laughs, sitting up on his elbow and drawing his fingers up the inside of Wonwoo’s thigh, stopping just short of his puffy hole.
“So this is like a thing now?” Junhui asks, kneading Wonwoo’s thigh in his hand. “You have to have someone fuck you or you get sick?”
Thinking about anything past the immediate future is too exhausting. Wonwoo only shrugs, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Junhui properly.
“Guess so,” he says, biting the corner of his lip.
“Cool,” Junhui says. He’s still studying Wonwoo’s body, his face faintly pink. He can feel the thin stream of Junhui’s come that’s started to leak out of him. “You can call me. Or just let yourself in. You have the keys.”
The casual, assured way that Junhui says it makes Wonwoo choke, sitting up as best as he can and glaring at Junhui.
“Who says I’m coming here?” He asks, a furrow in his brow.
The thing is, he’s not exactly prepared to examine the reasons he decided to come to Junhui for this. At the time, he seemed like the only option short of a total stranger. Maybe it’s because Junhui is reliable, in spite of his oddities. He’s always taking care of Wonwoo.
“You can go wherever you want,” Junhui says, smug satisfaction in his voice. “You just came to me first.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, swatting at Junhui’s shoulder and falling back against the bed.
“Do you get to keep the tail?” Junhui asks, grinning when the thin tip wraps around his finger. “It’s cute. And am I gonna die if I fuck you?”
“I don’t know,” Wonwoo says, pulling at Junhui’s upper arm to drag him closer. “I don’t think I have enough power to kill you.”
“That’s good,” Junhui says, kissing the edge of Wonwoo’s shoulder. He kicks the dirty blanket off the bed, sitting up with a groan. “Go to sleep. I’ll clean up.”
He marches his way into the bathroom before Wonwoo can argue.
Still, before Junhui comes back with a wet rag and a clean sheet to sleep under, Wonwoo is asleep in his bed.