Chapter Text
Two men stumbled inside the hotel room, door kicked shut behind them, just in time for their bodies to collide against it with a bang. Their lips parted for a moment, allowing ragged breaths to mix, accompanied by silent eye contact.
After the break for air, they quickly leaned forward to resume the kiss, a mess of teeth grazing and entangled tongues, chests heaving as their hands roamed all over one another, impatiently removing any clothes that were in the way.
It went on as they stumbled their way to the queen size bed, bumping into walls or furniture several times in the process. It didn’t deter their actions though, too focused on each other to care.
“We can stop now if you changed your mind.” The deep voice repeated against his partner’s lips, slightly out of breath, expression showing the opposite of his words.
Kim Dokja smirked, his fingers combing through the taller man’s thick, wavy locks of soft raven hair. He was tempted to agree just to see how the poor pent-up bastard would react.
Instead, he pushed Yoo Joonghyuk against the wall—an impossible feat if the latter wouldn’t have complied—sliding down to come face first with the rock-hard erection. Littering slow kisses over it and catching the edge of the pants between his teeth, only to let the elastic fabric snap back against the bulge. He thoroughly enjoyed the low growl that came from above him, making shivers raise up his spine, dancing in sync with the rest of the dizziness.
Against the rational part of his brain holding him back, Kim Dokja burst into a chuckle. He looked up, curious to see what the impassive face looked like at this moment.
There was a thump of excitement in his chest upon seeing Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes, darker than before and narrowed, thick brows furrowed deeply, his jaw clenched shut. Whatever self restraint the man was holding onto was slowly but surely crumbling away.
Thin fingers unbuckled the pants’ belt, teeth pulling down the zipper. Once that was out of the way, Kim Dokja used his mouth yet again to remove the undergarments, letting the heavy weight of the cock slap against his cheek.
Even his alcohol muddled brain was able to process that something was wrong, watching with dazed eyes as a finger slowly slid along the length as if to measure it.
“So big…” Kim Dokja breathed out, watching the monstrous thing twitch at the warm puffs of air. The hand that was clenched around his hair since a while ago tightened its hold, using the tingling pain to signal him to start.
Kim Dokja obediently opened his mouth, tracing the angry veins from the underside with his tongue. He stopped for a few more appreciative kisses just under the glans before lapping at the slit, slurping the salty droplets of precum spilling out of it.
After he was done he pulled away, for nothing other than to annoy the man.
“Stop teasing.” Yoo Joonghyuk yanked him by the hair until his nose was buried into the patch of curly pubic hair, rubbing his hard-on against Kim Dokja’s soft cheek, but without making any further attempt to dictate his actions.
Kim Dokja’s smile stretched, nuzzling at the baze before deciding to show mercy. He pulled away from the shaft, wrapping his lips around the cockhead.
It didn’t take long to start being frustrated, after taking in more and more only to notice how it almost reached the back of his neck, yet the length was not even halfway in, mocking all his efforts.
He pulled back a little, titling his head so that the cock was redirected to the left instead, sliding in until it poked on the inner side of his cheek, where he paused to swirl his tongue around it.
Kim Dokja looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk once again, teary eyes curving into crescents under the lustful gaze transfixed solely on him.
For some reason, that was the final drop that tipped the man over the edge, making him snap. With a click of his tongue, Yoo Joonghyuk pulled his head away until his cock was almost completely out of his mouth, before snapping his hips forward to push everything back into the welcoming heat.
Kim Dokja instantly felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the sudden movement, his hands grabbing onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips for support while the man pulled in and out, using his mouth like a glorified cocksleeve.
Tears ran down his cheeks as the enormous length was forced down his throat, suffocating him. The gag reflex kicked in but Kim Dokja could only uselessly thrash and whimper under the grip that pushed him back and forth, heavy balls slapping against his chin, cock shoved all the way to the base.
The musky scent filled his nostrils, eyes rolling back from the lack of oxygen, forgetting how to breathe. Kim Dokja felt one moment away from losing consciousness when Yoo Joonghyuk finally slipped out, letting go of his head to limp to the side, jaw slack and tongue lolling out. Drool trickled to the floor, but he couldn’t care less about wiping it away, too busy taking greedy breaths of much needed air.
“Open your mouth.” Yoo Joonghyuk ordered, grabbing his chin to keep his face up while his other hand pumped his cock a few more times.
Without thinking too much of it Kim Dokja did as he was told, closing his eyes when with a grunt, the man came all over his face, thick strings of cum caught between his bangs and lashes, on his tongue and cheeks. He swallowed.
“Bitter…”
His voice sounded hoarse and ruined, yet despite the complaint, Kim Dokja brought a hand to wipe his face, licking away the sticky fluid off his fingers afterwards. Blissfully unaware of the effect his actions had on the one watching him.
He felt himself lifted off the floor, and did his best to refrain himself from puking all the alcohol he drank earlier that night over Yoo Joonghyuk’s broad and unfairly perfect back as he was carried over a shoulder and unceremoniously dropped onto the bed.
Whatever complaint Kim Dokja was about to make died down when he felt the comforting softness of the sheets below him.
He lied down on one side, bringing more of the fabric to his face. Sleepiness crept in while he silently watched Yoo Joonghyuk take the bag they previously abandoned somewhere on the floor, pulling out its contents.
A scene unfolded in front of Kim Dokja’s eyes, as distant as if it happened years ago. In reality, it happened less than an hour before, starting with his own voice.
“How about it? Rope of cuffs?”
After leaving the bar, they walked to the first store they found open and bought thin red rope amongst other things, for which they received a considerably weirded out glances from a tired looking cashier.
One quick peek at the bulky Yoo Joonghyuk dressed all in black accompanied by a glare at her hesitation, then another peek the plain, meek looking Kim Dokja who smiled pleasantly, and she must’ve decided that she wasn’t paid enough to care what they’ll use rope in the middle of the night for.
“What are you thinking about?”
Awoken from the trip down memory lane, he regained a vague sense of reality and looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk.
Tanned, muscular body that would make any Greek sculpture cover itself in shame. A few scars here and there, only adding more mystery to the surreal beauty of the man. Biceps flexed as his arms worked on the ropes, stretching and folding them in preparation.
Kim Dokja stood up on his knees, cupping the chiseled jaw between his hands. He felt Yoo Joonghyuk stiffen under his touch, halting his movements, yet he remained still and let Kim Dokja’s thumbs trace the contour of his face, eyes watching each and every feature.
“Handsome bastard.” Kim Dokja mumbled, feeling something akin to endearment the more he looked at the man. He wasn’t sure why his eyes were stinging as if he was about to burst out crying.
He kissed Yoo Joonghyuk’s temple, and then found himself unable to stop at just one. Jaw, nose, eyebrows. Kim Dokja traced all those features with his lips and fingers, trying to imprint them in his memory.
“...Are you done?”
Yoo Joonghyuk pushed him on his back, and for a second there Kim Dokja could swear he noticed a red tinge on his ears, although in the room lit only by moonlight, it might as well have been an illusion.
“I can't tell what's going through that head of yours.” The man gruffed more to himself, as if Kim Dokja was some sort of indecipherable entity.
“Want to know?” He retorted, back arching, allowing the ropes to be circled around his torso, followed by wrists and legs. Tight enough to be constantly aware of their presence, but not enough to hurt.
Soon Kim Dokja’s hands were tied to his back, thighs bound to the calves. Like this, his butt was in clear view, easy to see and access just like Yoo Joonghyuk had intended.
“I was thinking that it would be hot if after you finished restraining me, you’ll lean down and whisper, First time being tortured?. You know, a dramatic reveal that you’re intending to murder me by the end of it.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was something between bafflement and irritation. “I’m not a serial killer.”
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. Had this guy ever heard of the word joke?
“Well you certainly dress like one. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m right I’d at least have to respect your hard work. I mean, do you look in the mirror? Breaking the law and not getting caught with a face that attracts that much attention must be atrociously hard. Unless you’re an, I don’t know, pro gamer, I can’t imagine how you’d have the skills to pull that off.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrow twitched as if something hit the mark. Kim Dokja once again observed how the more he poked, the more riled to fuck him the man would become—perhaps because he wanted to shut him up. It was good to know.
“Do you always speak this much?”
Rude. Wasn’t he the one who asked first?
“Unless I’m gagged.”
His partner’s movements faltered the tiniest bit, possibly contemplating using one.
“What’s your safeword?” Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed the bottle of lube instead, pouring a generous amount directly over his dick, letting it slowly drip all the way down to the puckered entrance.
Kim Dokja gasped at the coldness, knowing for sure that the petty bastard did it on purpose. He tried not to squirm so much, or show he was uncomfortable because of how foreign everything felt.
What was the question again? Something about a safeword. Of course, he didn’t have one. He didn’t want one either, but Yoo Joonghyuk looked like someone who played by the rules, thus Kim Dokja had to pretend to do the same.
“Tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes.” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated, deadpan. Two fingers rubbed Kim Dokja’s rim before pushing in.
“I don’t– ngh, like tomatoes. What better way to say, ah , that you want to end it than by bringing up something you hate.”
“Don’t be a picky eater.”
“Oh my, we’re not at the stage where you can tell me that just yet, Joonghyuk-ah.”
The man wasn’t annoyed by the remark like it’d been intended, appearing more interested in how Kim Dokja squirmed and held back his voice each time the lengthy fingers would thrust inside him, spreading his walls apart.
“What’s your limit?”
This bastard, why was he dead set on being so meticulous about it?
“ Nn, let’s see how far you can go first, shall we?”
“ Kim Dokja.”
Was it an illusion, or did it really sound like Yoo Joonghyuk was losing his patience too?
“Just–Aah, just get on with it already…”
“Tell me.”
A third finger joined the rest, making Kim Dokja jolt in pain. Since he was unable to move his hands, he bit his lips to stop the embarrassing sounds.
Yoo Joonghyuk leaned down and sank his teeth into his neck like a damn dog, licking the wound afterwards. It felt…weird. Good, but somehow not enough. Not even the fingers satiated anymore, despite being more than Kim Dokja ever took in before.
“Haah… please–”
“Tell me.” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated, busying himself with sucking marks on his chest, temptingly close to his nipples. The voice was lower than before, almost commanding.
One calloused hand wrapped itself around Kim Dokja’s fragile neck, applying enough pressure to set alarms off in his head—if only those too wouldn't have been deep down a swamp of haziness, like the rest of his senses.
“The, A-ah, rougher the better. Just… haah, just go wild. Mn, I don’t recall anything that I didn’t like or couldn’t handle.”
“You must not have a lot of experience with this then.”
“Or I can just take a lot more than people are willing to give.” Kim Dokja challenged back, rolling his hips to sink deeper into the fingers. The movement happened to make them press against his prostate, having him whimpering at how good it felt.
Before he could repeat the action, the grip on his neck tightened until Kim Dokja was gasping for air, a warning for him to stay still. Just like he thought—Yoo Joonghyuk was a control freak.
Their faces were inches away, each word fanning Kim Dokja’s face.
“We'll see about that.”
The fingers abruptly withdrew, leaving him to clench around empty air. Kim Dokja mewled needily, but stopped moving altogether when Yoo Joonghyuk used his free hand to grab his knee and spread his legs apart for better access, positioning himself at the entrance.
Panic crept in, suddenly aware of what was going to happen. He pushed for this the entire night, yet now that they were on the brink of it, his heart began thumping loudly in his chest, running a mile per minute.
Kim Dokja tried to shift himself away, which his partner must’ve misinterpreted as impatience since with a snap of his hips, Yoo Joonghyuk pushed everything in one go.
His body quivered, eyes rolling to the back of his head and mouth dropping open in a silent scream. His insides felt like they were being ripped apart, stretched around the impossible size that seemed to fill him to the brim.
“ Aah – oh, too much…”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t even consider taking it slow, dragging his cock out until only the head remained inside and pounding back in, reaching even deeper than before. The fleshy walls twitched around him pleasurably, following Kim Dokja’s reactions to find his sweet spots.
“Uh, ahn– wait, ng, Joong– stop! Wait a second!”
Kim Dokja vaguely registered his own words only after he said them, and for a moment his heart skipped a beat, worrying that he messed things up.
As Yoo Joonghyuk held him by the neck and fucked back into him over and over again at an increasing pace though, Kim Dokja remembered that nothing he says will be taken seriously unless he’s using the safeword. It was good to know, since he was pretty sure he would inadvertently beg for the man to stop again in the near future.
“...You’re bleeding.”
Kim Dokja’s hazed brain was barely able to process the words Yoo Joonghyuk huffed out through heavy breaths. His pace slowed too, grinding to a halt.
“It’s been a while.” The lie came out naturally, his tone like a plea. “Keep going, it’s good.”
Not thinking more of it, Yoo Joonghyuk resumed his actions, speeding up the thrusts. His palm slid alongst Kim Dokja’s skin, from the middle of his collarbone down to his belly. The dark eyes sized him up so meticulously, thinking of what to do with him— to him, that Kim Dokja wished he could shrink away from it. Not that he was permitted such luxury.
Being unable to hide his face or muffle his voice was utterly humiliating, making him flush in shame. The more he tried not to think of it, the more he was aware of how exposed each and every part of him was, body folded in half and legs spread open while his insides stretched widely to accommodate the fat girth.
With the bump that was forming on his otherwise flat stomach every time the cock would thrust deep inside him, Kim Dokja wasn’t sure if he was human anymore or just a toy meant to be used in any way his owner pleased.
As if reading his mind, Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly pressed his palm on the bump, eliciting a loud moan out of him. It was cut short when the man’s hand once again tightened around his neck, gripping it with enough force to have Kim Dokja gasping for air.
It was a good question, to wonder how much more of it he could take. Judging by how he was fucked breathlessly, he felt like he would fall apart at any moment now, whether that meant his body breaking down first or his mind turning into mush.
As the cock slid in and out of him, pressing against his prostate with each heavy drag and reaching the deepest parts of him, Kim Dokja thought that the former was a safe bet.
* * *
He’d been wrong.
When Yoo Joonghyuk bit down on his shoulder, sheathing his cock balls deep with one final thrust, Kim Dokja realized that rather than breaking down, his body was growing accustomed to Yoo Joonghyuk. Which also meant his mind could do nothing but take it, increasingly useless as the only thing he could think about now was how full he is. After this, he’ll surely be ruined for anyone else.
They both stood there panting for a while, Yoo Joonghyuk leaning his forehead in the crook of his neck while Kim Dokja stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling the entire room spin around him. Sweat ran down his entire body, invisible needles prickling in the many places he’d been bitten.
Yoo Joonghyuk stared at what he did after pulling out, watching how the globs of cum overflowed the puffy hole and slid down to the already wet sheets, before looking back at the smaller man’s face.
“Can you do it one more time?”
It was a funny thing to ask while looking so riled up, as if everything thus far had only been a taste of the real thing. Kim Dokja, fucked within an inch of life, smiled tiredly.
“It would be disappointing not to.”
Yoo Joonghyuk undid the binds on his legs, leaving only those around his torso and wrists, then guided him to sit on the room’s armchair, on his knees, chest against the backrest. There was a large window right behind it which Kim Dokja now faced, looking outside at the dark buildings and city lights before glancing back at his partner.
The man in question took Kim Dokja’s tie from the floor before approaching. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was planning with it.
“Bondage and now this? Such a pervert you are, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“I should be saying that.”
Once his sight was completely covered, Kim Dokja yelped at the sudden sensation of a belt landing against his ass, still tender from before.
“Getting off on pain.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was as calm as ever, followed by another hit on the exact same spot where the first one had landed just moments ago. Both of them were aware of the cum leaking out of him after each whip, creating an obscene visual.
“Aren’t you embarrassed of being such a whore? Kim Dokja.”
Another strike, this time unexpectedly on the back of his thighs. Kim Dokja’s dick, having previously gone soft after multiple orgasms, was traitorously hard and twitching again. He bit his lips in shame, unable to say anything.
It’s not that he particularly enjoyed pain—if asked about it in a more… normal setting, Kim Dokja would look back on his years of growing up with it, and vehemently deny it.
Yet the thought of Yoo Joonghyuk using him like an object for his own pleasure was, strangely enough, not so bad.
Perhaps it was because he felt safe after the man’s insistence on Kim Dokja’s past experiences—nonexistent—, and safeword—created on the spot. It was pretty obvious that Yoo Joonghyuk could hurt him if he really wanted, and that it wasn’t in his plan to.
His words were just dirty talk, not the same kind of mockery as Kim Dokja's past classmates would come to him with. The hits didn’t truly hurt. Most of the fear was caused by the anticipation of when and where they’ll land. They did add up to the nausea caused by the alcohol, and did stir some rather unpleasant memories, but it was a completely different situation.
There was no reason to use a safeword and ruin everything.
In fact, the whole thing was rather therapeutic. Whether it was the words, belt, or shame of it all bringing it out of him, the quiet sobs Kim Dokja involuntarily let out were something he’d been incapable of for a very long time.
It was amusing really, that even after so much time had passed he was still unable to show any sincere emotions unless they were beaten out of him. Didn’t that make him the same as the little kid hidden behind self-raised, giant walls, from all those years ago? The revelation came with a choked laugh.
“What are you thinking about?”
Yoo Joonghyuk sounded close behind him. Kim Dokja didn't notice when the man let the belt fall to the floor and used one knee to lean over the couch, looming on top of him.
“You have a thing for being in control.” Kim Dokja remarked out loud this time, hearing a smirk in his own voice rather than the trembling of someone who had just finished crying. “Not just physically, with the ties and all that, but you also want to be constantly aware of what the other person is thinking.”
The man said nothing. Kim Dokja didn’t know if it was because he didn’t know how to answer, or simply because there was nothing more to add, but it mattered not. It was all just chit-chat anyway.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand caressed one of the abused buttcheeks almost in an apologetical manner, before giving it a harsher squeeze. He spread them apart, his fingers digging into the bruised skin, and unceremoniously rammed himself back into the loosened hole, purposefully aiming for the prostate.
Kim Dokja’s forehead hit the window from the push of the thrust, the coldness of the glass contrasting with how hot everything else felt. Refreshing, almost.
“Still so tight. Are you enjoying the blindfold this much?”
Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his chin, squeezing on the sides of his face to pry his mouth open. Two fingers snuck into Kim Dokja’s mouth, playing with his tongue.
“Or does it turn you on to imagine someone watching while we're fucking?”
It took a few moments to process why in the world would someone be watching them, before Kim Dokja belatedly registered that they were, in fact, doing it right in front of a window.
The armchair’s backrest should hide any inappropriate visual though, and the darkness of the room wouldn’t allow anything more than two silhouettes to be seen, at most. But still, the thought of someone from the opposite building looking at their window made something churn inside Kim Dokja.
Yoo Joonghyuk let out a low groan, close to a growl right next to his ear, feeling how the soft walls contracted around him, squeezing him in. It almost felt like they were melting together.
Jaw going slack, Kim Dokja gave up on holding back the moans, his mind too hazy from overstimulation to care anymore. With one cheek pressed firmly against the window, tears stained the glass and his skin, pooling an uncomfortable, wet coldness around his face.
The binds rubbed on his skin with each movement, nipples red and aching from the incessant friction against them. Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers kept tugging on his tongue, uncaring for how the saliva coated his hand and Kim Dokja’s chin, making him look no better than a bitch in heat. Thrusting as deep as he could go, balls slapping the raw skin of his ass with each pound.
Kim Dokja was tired— exhausted . Utterly spent and throbbing all over, but most importantly, uselessly stubborn.
He lost count of how much time had passed since they started, how many times he came or how many positions Yoo Joonghyuk manhandled him in. As long as he could still hold onto that thin string of rationality, it meant he could take more.
“We need to get you cleaned up.”
Therefore even after Yoo Joonghyuk came for a upteempth time that night, untying the ropes and lifting him in bridal carry, all Kim Dokja did was circle his arms around his neck, pulling himself closer to the former’s face.
“Sure.” He whispered with a smirk, his fingers tugging playfully at a damp lock of hair. “Another round in the bathroom sounds fun.”
Yoo Joonghyuk frowned, but Kim Dokja didn't miss the flash in his eyes. The guy definitely wanted to do more, but was uselessly considerate of him even after being encouraged to just go ahead and use him in whichever way he wanted. Fortunately, by now Kim Dokja knew exactly how to make him change his mind.
The night was far from over.
* * *
A pounding headache gradually awakened Kim Dokja from his sleep, every inch of his body feeling like it’d been run over by a train. Multiple times. Insides ripped apart and bones broken, poking at his wounds—every limb refused to function properly.
He instinctively tried to crouch more into himself, making his body as small as possible as if that would diminish the pain as well, but it only resulted in more of it.
Blinking his bleary eyes open, Kim Dokja tried to focus his field of vision and looked around in confusion, coming to a halt once he processed what was out of ordinary.
For starters, he couldn’t recognize the room. Secondly, his arms were bruised and bitten, as if a beast mauled him. Last but not least, a pair of strong arms were wrapped securely around his middle, connected to the source of heat that kept Kim Dokja’s back warm. He was honestly afraid to look.
Taking a deep breath, and wincing from the pain resulted in the process, he turned around the tiniest bit. The beautiful visage of a man in deep sleep next to him hit Kim Dokja like an entire bucket of cold water.
What the fuck did he do.