Carefree

K-pop info and glossary
 
Infinite: 2010, Woollim Entertainment
EXO: 2012, SM Entertainment
Dongwoo Jang Dongwoo November 22, 1990 main rapper, lead dancer
Suho Kim Joonmyun May 22, 1991 leader
 
Another take on the ISAC.
 
I write about men having sex with other men.  You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction.  This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.


            Suho stared as Infinite’s Jang Dongwoo came flapping by.  Belatedly, he remembered his manners, remembered to close his mouth.  Averting his gaze, he shook his head and tried to refocus his attention on the track, on the race about to start.  Still, he couldn’t help but take another look, glancing surreptitiously after his sunbaenim.

            What was wrong with him?  Why was he walking - - make that skipping - - around looking like a confused vagrant?  His nametag was completely untied and hanging however it pleased, his jacket was indecisively half-on - - he looked disheveled.  If he didn’t have the sense to dress himself properly in front of fans and cameras and sunbaes and television crews, why didn’t one of his members take care of him?

            He was so distracting that Suho kept noticing him.  Even in a field packed with idols, several dozen of whom were dressed in orange, he stood out.  He didn’t walk so much as frolic from spot to spot.  He was always doing something - - racing, talking to other idols, visiting fans - - and when he didn’t have an activity, he found one.  Like dancing, or gathering umbrellas, or toying with this, or investigating that, or poking around at something.  He was never still, and he was always laughing.

            Suho waited for one of his members to tidy him up, or at least nudge him to tie his nametag, but they didn’t.  They talked with him and joked with him, but either they didn’t notice how disheveled he looked, or they didn’t care, both of which Suho found difficult to accept as possibilities.  They did, however, push him, pull him, sit on him, and otherwise roughhouse and physically dominate him.  It was the sort of behavior which happened between members all of the time, although not always so shamelessly and publicly, but it struck Suho as very odd.  Wasn’t Dongwoo one of the hyungs of Infinite?  Why were his dongsaengs so free with him?  He didn’t retaliate in the slightest way.  He didn’t even defend himself.  He just laughed and let it happen.

            Dongwoo was nearby all afternoon, dancing to and fro, talking with some of the other EXO members.  Eventually, while Suho was talking with Xiumin, Dongwoo came over.  The three of them chatted, other members clad in orange drifting in and out of the conversation.  Dongwoo was very friendly, frank and uninhibited, but Suho was too distracted by his smiles to appreciate fully what he said.

            His smiles.  His goofy, bright, engaging, friendly, happy, wonderful smiles.  He had so many ways of smiling, each one was more charming than the last.  He had flirtatious smiles and self-conscious smiles and mischievous smiles and big, wide, toothy smiles, and he laughed so easily that Suho wanted to tickle him just to get him to laugh even more.

            This close, he didn’t look like a vagrant at all.  He looked half-undressed.  With his jacket half-off and his nametag hanging loose, slipping off of his shoulders, he looked as if they’d interrupted him in the middle of disrobing.  As if at any moment, he might shrug off his jacket and start on his shirt.  Or his pants.

            As they spoke, Dongwoo’s hand drifted up, fingering the strap to his nametag, and then gradually dropped again.  He hadn’t fixed anything, hadn’t pulled the strap back up over his shoulder.  As if he knew that he was half-dressed, and didn’t care who noticed.  It was almost like, like a tease, as if he were coyly drawing their attention to his state of undress.

            Suho couldn’t take it anymore.  “Forgive me,” he said, and started adjusting Dongwoo’s clothes.

            Instead of reprimanding Suho or even so much as asking a question, Dongwoo just stood there, passively.  After one short, surprised laugh, he was still.

            With quick, sharp tugs, Suho straightened Dongwoo’s T-shirt.  Pushing the jacket off even more, he got the nametag neatly centered and tied it snugly on either side so that it rested smoothly against Dongwoo’s chest.  Then he pulled the jacket into place, zipping it up half-way, making sure that the hood hung properly.  Stepping back, he smiled.  Much better.

            Dongwoo laughed again, self-consciously touching his shoulder, where his clothes were no longer falling off.  “Are you a stylist or a mother?”

            “Suho’s very neat,” Xiumin said.  “Not at the dorm,” he added - - unnecessarily, Suho thought - - “but personally.”

            Now that it was over, Suho was astonished by his own behavior.  What had he been thinking, invading a sunbae’s personal space like that?  He wouldn’t have dared to do it to Shinee, even, not without invitation or at least more explanation, and he’d known them before they’d debuted.

            His mind lingered over how passive Dongwoo had been.  Simply standing there, not raising a hand, not asking a question.  More like a dongsaeng than a hyung.  Allowing him to do what he pleased.

            For an instant, Suho stopped breathing.

            Could Jang Dongwoo be the one?

            The members had been nagging him about having sex with guys for months.  All of his protestations that he wasn’t exactly a virgin were met with “that was years ago” and “girls who just lie there and wait for it to be over don’t count,” and all of his protestations that he’d been with guys were met with “that was years ago” and “blowjobs don’t count.”  He would’ve resented their comments more if he hadn’t started to agree with them.  When he let himself really think about it, he wished that he had a better sex life.  Any sex life.  Between the strictness of his family and the strictness of the company, he’d worried about having sex the wrong way or with the wrong person, so he’d eventually just stopped altogether.  There had been so much pressure, it had seemed easier to stick to his own hand.  His embarrassment and confusion had muddied the waters; he still wasn’t sure what he liked, what he wanted, what he responded to most.

            His members were sure that he was into men.  Some of them thought that he was gay, some of them thought that he was bi, and all of them thought that he was a bottom.  It was hard to get all of them to agree on anything, and he didn’t know whether to be flattered or resentful that his sexual desires were one of those things.  They wanted him to find a guy and get laid, and they were so tired of waiting for him to take action that they’d begun to discuss hiring someone for him, or just doing it themselves.

            He didn’t want his first time to be with one of his own members.  The company had drilled into him very clearly what a leader was and how a leader should act, and that didn’t really fit the image they’d presented.  He didn’t want to hire anyone, either.  It couldn’t be a stranger.  It had to be someone who would understand the situation, someone with a vested interest in maintaining privacy, someone who would want to prevent a scandal as much as he did.

            Another idol seemed like the best choice.  But it had to be someone established.  He didn’t want to have sex with some rookie, only to have the rookie’s team disband a year later.  He had visions of scandal, headlines, blackmail.  No, it was too big of a risk.

            But he didn’t want it to be someone too well-established, someone too important.  He wanted to be able to maintain balance, if not gain the upper hand.  The company sunbaes were far too confident and aware of their own sexual prowess.  He didn’t want anyone to realize that he’d never done it before, for example; he wanted it to seem like some everyday, pleasant encounter.

            It couldn’t be anyone at the company.  It couldn’t be a hoobae.  That left him with a handful of sunbae teams to choose from.  For his own ego, he really preferred someone with good sales, someone who’d won the music shows if not picked up a triple crown.  But he also preferred someone who wouldn’t dominate him, someone who would let him take the lead.  On top of that, it had to be someone he was attracted to, someone he actually wanted to have sex with.

            It had been months, and Jang Dongwoo was the first person who fit the criteria.

            A while ago, when the members had asked what he was waiting for, he’d explained.  Baekhyun had laughed and said, “You’re such a snob,” and Tao had said, “You’re putting way too much thought into this,” and Kai had said, “Seriously, hyung, just let one of us do it.  You’re just stalling, making up arbitrary rules no one can ever follow.”  Now, though, to his own amazement, he’d actually found someone.

            As soon as Dongwoo had pranced away again, Suho turned to Xiumin.  “Have you and Dongwoo sunbae ever done that thing?”

            “Done what - - that thing?”  Xiumin raised his eyebrows, then laughed.  “No, we’ve never.  Why, do you think Luhan would let me?”  He glanced after Dongwoo as if intrigued by the proposition.

            Dongwoo was dancing and…picking up litter?  Suho turned back to Xiumin.  “No.  Does he do that?  Would he?”  He had no idea how to ask what he wanted to know, and he was sincerely regretting broaching the subject with so many people wandering around.

            “Sure.  I think so.”

            Suho licked his lips.  Was he committing himself to this too quickly?  Should he take his time, get to know Dongwoo, be sure that he was making the right decision?  He really wanted to get laid.  He was tired of having sexual urges he only half-understood.  He was tired of feeling horny and repressed and sexually awkward.  He was tired of his own dongsaengs calling him a virgin.  “Find out.”

            “Why?”  Xiumin looked puzzled.  “What…”  His voice trailed off, his eyes widened, and he stared at Suho in the most ludicrously incredulous manner.  “You?!”

            Embarrassed, Suho tugged at Xiumin’s sleeve.  “You don’t have to act so shocked!”

            “You?  That guy?  Really?”  Xiumin looked amused and dubious.

            “Why?  Why shouldn’t I?  What do you know about him?”  Self-conscious, already second-guessing himself, Suho realized how little he actually knew about Dongwoo.  What if Dongwoo had kinks, fetishes?  Suho wasn’t opposed to kinks in general - - he was sort of secretly turned on by D.O.’s - - but he wasn’t prepared to get into that with some strange sunbae during his first time.  What if Dongwoo was bad in bed, sexually clumsy, and his first time turned out to be awful?

            “No, nothing!  He’s great.”  Xiumin hesitated, as if considering something, then nodded.  “He’s a really good guy.  You saw.  He’s nice, he’s friendly, he’s smart, he’s considerate, he comes from a good family.”

            Suho bit his lip, unsure.  “Do you think I should?  Maybe-”

            “Yes!  Yes,” Xiumin said emphatically.  “Yes.  Go over and ask him.”

            Eh, “I don’t want to rush into it.  Shouldn’t I think about it some more first?”

            “No!  Rush?” Xiumin repeated.  “What rush?  You’ve been dithering over it for months!  Years!  Go talk to him!”

            A staff member was approaching; Suho put on his professional smile.  He’d give Dongwoo some more thought and make his final decision later.



            The next time Suho saw Dongwoo, he’d lost the jacket entirely and was dancing with Sunggyu.

            The time after that, he was talking to fans, his nametag flapping loosely, completely untied.

            The time after that, he was frolicking across the grass, carrying at least three umbrellas, skipping and dancing like some sort of orange fairy creature there to dispense umbrellas to the populace.

            Despite being a sunbae, he was about as intimidating as a clean sock.  He was as sexually threatening as the grass he danced on.  He would probably be a pushover in bed.  Actually, he was probably a terrible lay.  Would he be messy?  Awkward?  Well, as long as he could get it up, Suho could take charge of the rest.

            It was strange, to feel so intrigued by him.  Suho couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so compelling.  He wasn’t tall; he didn’t have the tiny face or wide, round eyes or other features that everyone desired.  If he had chocolate abs, Suho couldn’t tell.  He didn’t act like he was special or sexy or handsome.  He acted like he didn’t have a care in the world.

            With that thought, Suho felt an odd sort of twinge, inside.  Surprised, he scanned the field and saw Dongwoo doing handstands like no one was watching.

            Was that it?  That carefreeness?  That sense of freedom and energy?  Suho felt boxed in, weighed down by pressure from all sides.  His family, the company, the responsibilities of leadership, the demands of being an idol, his members, his fans.  So many expectations.  So many ways to fail.

            Dongwoo seemed completely unburdened.  Innocent, unfettered.  Occasionally in need of a baby-sitter or a nurturing, guiding hand.

            Suho wanted to be that hand.

            While Dongwoo’s nametag flapped in the breeze, Suho smiled.  Yes.  Jang Dongwoo would be the one.



            Dongwoo wandered around so much, Suho had trouble catching him alone.  He never stayed in one place long enough to be cornered.  Eventually, Suho found him piling jackets.  They were far enough away from the other idols that Suho decided the situation was safe enough, if they were discreet.  “Sunbaenim,” he said with a smile, approaching.

            Dongwoo smiled at him.  “Yes?”

            He clasped his hands behind his back.  “It’s been nice to spend time with you today.”

            Dongwoo looked surprised but nodded and said, “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

            He kept his voice smooth and friendly.  “Maybe we could meet again sometime.  Privately.”

            A hint of confusion flickered across Dongwoo’s face.  His eyebrows quirked as he shot Suho a much more intelligent and discerning look than Suho had expected.  “Yeah.”  He licked his lips, then smiled.  “That might be fun.”

            Suho had already decided to handle this as soon as possible.  Now that he’d decided to do it, he wanted to make sure that it happened.  “Is there an evening you’re free?  Thursday?  You could come by our dorm.”

            “Mmm, not Thursday.”  He dropped a jacket in the pile he’d been making.  “Wait, what is today?  Tuesday?”

            “Yes, Tuesday.”  How could he not know which day it was?

            “Tuesday.”  He frowned, looking perplexed, then nodded, expression clearing.  “Friday?  I have time on Friday.”

            Not as soon as Suho would have liked, but within the next few days, at least.  “All right.  Xiumin hyung can give me your number.  I’ll text you to arrange a time.”

            “Okay, sure.”  Dongwoo grinned at him.  “We’ll have fun.”

            Putting his hands in his pockets, Suho backed away, smiling.  “Yes, we will.”



            Xiumin had told the other members.  They were excited and congratulatory, and they spent the next few days giggling whenever he walked into the room.  Having eleven people so important to him so invested in his sex life only added to the pressure he felt, but at the same time it was flattering that they cared so much.  They all volunteered to make themselves scarce on Friday night so that he could have the dorm to himself.  Well, Tao wanted to stay, but the others talked him out of it.

            He didn’t tell them how attracted he was to Dongwoo.  He didn’t mention his embarrassing fantasies of having a boyfriend, of embarking on a relationship, of discreet phone calls and heart-pounding reunions.  He already had eleven people to take care of and look after; why was he so eager to nurture someone new?  He already had eleven people ready to have sex with him; why did the idea of a regular sex life with Dongwoo tempt and arouse him?

            Now that the date was set, he realized how little he actually knew about Dongwoo, even professionally.  He’d never paid much attention to Infinite, specifically.  He knew that Infinite had amazing synchronization, and he knew that Dongwoo was a rapper, and he could probably recognize their singles, but he was short on details.  He considered getting on-line and looking up some performances or something, to get a better feel for who Dongwoo was onstage at least, but his schedule was hectic and he never found the time.  Besides, he didn’t want to seem too interested; it would be embarrassing if Friday went poorly and he never saw Dongwoo again.

            On Thursday, he and Dongwoo texted each other.  It was a very short, succinct conversation.  He was relieved that Dongwoo seemed to understand that the less evidence they made available, the better.

            On Friday, his morning was busy.  The afternoon was spent practicing.  After dinner, he showered.  While Xiumin and Chen and Kai cleaned up the room, and the other members tidied up the rest of the dorm, Sehun and Tao took it upon themselves to decide what he should wear.

            “It has to look good on you,” Tao explained, “but also look good coming off of you.”

            “Button-down shirt,” Sehun said.  “None of that awkward arms over the head, elbows everywhere crap.”

            “You need sexier underwear,” Tao said.  “Why is everything you own so boring?”

            “What is all of this?” Sehun asked, flipping through a rack of shirts.  “You don’t want to look expensive, you want to look easy.  You want him to walk in and realize what a great idea it was to show up and what a terrific time he’s going to have pounding your ass.”

            “Oh!  What if you dress like you just got back and you haven’t had a chance to get dressed?” Tao asked.  “You won’t even need pants, just underwear.  You’re not going out, right?  Only he’ll see.”

            “Good, that’s good,” Sehun agreed quickly.  “Sexy underpants and, what, an open shirt over it?”

            “Yes, so he can see all of that gorgeous, creamy skin,” Tao said.  “Oh!  Go get Chanyeol’s plaid shirt, we’ll roll the sleeves up.”

            Suho felt cheap and obvious at first, standing around in black boxer-briefs with a big, red plaid shirt hanging open over it.  Then he fantasized about Dongwoo, sprawled on his bed; about walking toward the bed, letting Dongwoo admire him, letting Dongwoo’s appreciative gaze eat him up, sitting on the bed, Dongwoo reaching out and pulling him close, smiling at him, wanting him.  Feeling confident, sexy, he studied his reflection in the mirror, flicking the shirt tails back, his hands on his hips, his body on display.  Yeah.  Oh, he was definitely getting laid tonight.



            He was in a good mood when the members, hugging him and laughing with each other, left.

            Alone, moving around the apartment, he felt confident, in charge.

            The more he thought about the upcoming event, the better he felt about it.  He liked sex; he was good at it.  He imagined being on his back, guiding Dongwoo’s penis into himself, smiling at Dongwoo’s amazed sounds of pleasure, offering words of encouragement as Dongwoo moved inside of him.  Or maybe Dongwoo would be overenthusiastic, awkward; he’d get Dongwoo off in his mouth, first, and then take control.  Blowjobs were sort of his specialty.

            Happy, energetic with anticipation, ready to usher Dongwoo into his love den, he was bouncing on his toes and humming to himself when the doorbell rang.  Smiling, feeling a burst of arousal, he went to the door, pulling it open.

            Suddenly off-balance, he rocked back onto his heels.

            “Hey.”  Dongwoo’s gaze flicked down his body and back up.  With a surprised, appreciative smile, Dongwoo grinned at him.  “Invite me in.”

            Invite whom in?  This was not the orange umbrella fairy he’d seen at the track.  This was an entirely different creature.  This was a gorgeous idol with thick, wavy, tousled hair and black eyeliner and seductively glossed lips.  A silver fang dangled from one earlobe; a silver infinity symbol dangled from the other.  A thick chain of metal beads coiled close around his neck.  He had on half-a-dozen silver rings and chunky, complex bracelets and black fingerless gloves.

            And then there were his actual clothes.  He had on the most snugly skintight pair of pants Suho had ever seen in person, in what looked like black snakeskin, with matching heeled boots.  He also had on a tight white shirt under a long-sleeved gem-studded pink half-shirt which seemed designed to cover his arms and shoulders and little else.

            Stage clothes.  Suho told himself that this was just a stylist’s illusion.  Under the performance clothes and the accessories and the make-up was the same carefree sunbae who let his dongsaengs push him around.

            “Come in.”  Stepping back, he let Dongwoo enter, then locked the door.  He found this version of Dongwoo intensely erotic, and he let his gaze linger on Dongwoo’s pouty, glossed lips and slim hips and half-gloved hands.  He wondered how many of those accessories would stay on for sex.  A fantasy, a vision, came to him, of lying back while Dongwoo’s hands - - leather-clad palm smooth against him in that fingerless glove, fingers weighed down by rings - - slid up his thighs, parting his legs, jagged metal bracelets brushing his skin.  It turned him on so much that he had to struggle to repress a shudder, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

            Just a stylist’s illusion.  It wasn’t real.  The man in front of him was as manageable and tame as anyone he’d met.

            To make a joke of it, he asked, “Is this how you dress for all of your dates?”

            Dongwoo laughed, bracing a hand on Suho’s shoulder for balance as he unzipped his boots.  It seemed like a very forward thing to do, until Suho compared it to what else they planned to do that night.  “No, we had a shoot.”  Without his boots, they were almost eye-to-eye.  His gaze slid appreciatively down Suho’s body.  “I like what you have on, though.  Or don’t have on.”

            Flattered, pleased, Suho smiled.  That was the look he’d hoped for, the praise he’d expected.  His confidence restored, he brushed his fingers over Dongwoo’s pink top.  “Let me show you around.”

            Dongwoo chuckled, his eyes sparkling.  “Yeah.  Show me places like your bedroom, and your bedroom, and, uh, your bedroom.”  Biting into his lower lip, he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

            Suho had to laugh at his audacity.  “It’s like that?”  Maybe Dongwoo was horny; maybe it had been a while for him, too.  “Okay, this way.”

            He led the way to his room.  The lube and condoms sitting on the table by his bed seemed uncouth, obvious; he wished that Kai had put them somewhere more discreet.  Just as he stepped toward the bed, he turned.  Maybe they should talk about positions, clear up what they wanted to do.

            Dongwoo was much closer than he’d realized.  His breath caught in his throat at their sudden nearness.  Full, glossy lips parted, Dongwoo was eyeing his mouth, heavy-lidded, one ornately accessorized hand rising to cup his cheek.  The sexual intent in Dongwoo’s expression had his heart hammering.  He felt wanted, abruptly and exceptionally wanted, and it was an exciting, heady sensation.  “So soft,” Dongwoo breathed, and just like that, Dongwoo was kissing him.

            Oh, god.  Suho was used to kisses starting out with the light, getting-to-know-you phase, progressing to a more comfortable rhythm, and maybe building to something more aggressive if things got really hot and heavy.  Dongwoo had zoomed past all of that and was taking his mouth straight to the endgame.  He felt possessed, taken, consumed.  Suddenly as hot as if steam enveloped him, he moaned, his body lighting up at the abrupt full-ahead charge into passion.

            Dongwoo’s lips were so plump, so soft and so mobile, that Suho felt conflicted by warring impulses.  His threatened ego told him to learn fast and keep up, to kiss back and match Dongwoo’s skill and prove that he wasn’t outclassed.  His body, swamped with arousal and need, told him to moan and succumb and soak it all up, to submit to these deep, wicked, carnal kisses and whimper in gratitude.  His fascinated mouth told him to get to know Dongwoo better, to nuzzle Dongwoo’s lush lower lip, to lick it all over, to suck on it, to memorize its sensual contours.  Trying to do everything at once, he kissed back and moaned lustily and licked at Dongwoo like a needy obsessive.

            “Yeah,” Dongwooo breathed, and he felt a hand on his ass.  Pleasure zinged right through him, and he gasped, curling his hands over Dongwoo’s hips.  The way Dongwoo’s hand rubbed over his ass made him shift and shimmy like an uncertain dancer, and then it squeezed so firmly he gasped again, his hips jerking forward and grinding against Dongwoo like he’d been trained to do it.  The sudden friction on his arousal, the promising hardness of Dongwoo’s cock, the firm squeeze, turned him on so much that he groaned like he was in pain, sucking on Dongwoo’s tongue and rocking his hips again, grinding convulsively.  He couldn’t stop working himself against Dongwoo’s cock - - oh, god, it felt so good - - and Dongwoo’s fingers were sliding along the cleft of his ass with unerring precision.

            He was completely out of control here.  He had to reestablish who was in charge.  “D-d-dongwoo hyung,” he said, but he moaned it like he was drugged, and his hips were rubbing into Dongwoo’s touch with demanding sexual hunger.

            “Yeah,” was Dongwoo’s reply, and then Suho’s shirt was pushed off of his shoulders.  As it fell to the ground, he felt unbearably vulnerable, as if he stood stark naked in public.  The contrasting fabrics of Dongwoo’s clothes against his skin provided a rush of sensations - - the firmness of snakeskin, the softness of cotton, the light prod of metal studs - - and then he felt the smoothness of Dongwoo’s gloved hand stroke over his back.  It was a sensual pleasure, making his back arch, and when his hips rose, Dongwoo groaned - - a deep, richly appreciative sound that sent giddy heat washing through him - - and tugged at his underwear, pulling it downward.

            The idea of being stark naked and rock-hard in front of someone fully clothed startled him into saying, “Your clothes.”

            Pulling away from him with a sinuous roll of hips and a lingering squeeze to his ass, Dongwoo made a soft, guttural sound.  While his brain replayed that movement - - had Dongwoo just undulated at him? - - Dongwoo looked him over with an admiring, pouty smirk.  The sexual energy in the room was so thick, he felt like he was panting for air, and the hot ache between his thighs felt so urgent, he wanted to touch himself, god, if he touched himself, if he got off, maybe he could clear his head, maybe he could get things back on track.  Not that things were off track, exactly, but he definitely didn’t have the upper hand, here; this wasn’t going at all the way that he’d planned.

            “Nnh, you look so great, so hot,” Dongwoo said.  His hand slid over Suho’s thigh, and then he was going down on his knees.  Surprised, Suho suddenly had to recalculate, had to adjust the game plan, but his hands were already pulling Suho’s underpants down, and his lush, red lips were already kissing the head of Suho’s cock.

            “Ah, shit, oh.”  His voice unsteady, molten heat burning between his legs, Suho put a hand on the back of Dongwoo’s head, trying to maintain his balance.  Dongwoo’s thick hair was silky-soft, and he threaded his fingers through it, gasping at the hot pull of pleasure shaking his thighs.  His cock was between those gorgeous, full lips, was in Dongwoo’s boldly sucking mouth, and ecstasy was bubbling - - boiling - - popping, shit, exploding through him.  It was too soon, it was just right, he was coming and he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t control it, he couldn’t do anything but moan and love it.  “Oh, oh, oh, like that, yes,” he panted as he came, the world shaking and blurring around him.

            With a last, long suck and a muffled, “Ummm,” Dongwoo pulled off of Suho’s cock.  His eyes closing, he opened his mouth, tilting his head back.  With a dreamy smile, he swallowed, and then he laughed happily.  Frankly rubbing himself through his pants, he licked his lips, swallowing again, and then he opened his eyes, getting up.  “Ah, you’re so great,” he said, and kissed Suho.

            Suho didn’t even know what to say to that.  He’d never seen someone swallow with so much enjoyment before.  “You’re great, too.”  He’d come so hard, maybe he really had gone too long without sex.  It had felt so good, he still felt a little high from it, like colors were bright and edges were sharp.  “Did you want to finish undressing?”

            Dongwoo looked down at himself and laughed.  “I forgot!”  He seemed so genuinely tickled, Suho smiled.  This sunbae was so foolish, it was cute.  This was the light-hearted, goofy side of him that Suho wanted to tame and train and take care of.  As he began to undress, Suho sat on the bed, scooting back and watching.

            Now that Suho had come, his mind was clearer and he’d be able to reassert himself.  Things should go smoothly from this point.  Leaning back on his hands, he eyed Dongwoo, interested.

            Dongwoo stripped carelessly.  His wiry frame was hard with muscle, and he skinned out of his pants without a hint of self-consciousness, as if he stood naked in front of Suho every day.  He looked smooth, agile, and his erection pointed frankly upward, straight and red.  He dropped his gloves on the floor, but his face was still made up, his jewelry still on, hints of the sultry, sexually confident idol lurking behind those carefree smiles.

            Fondling his plump, pink balls as if he didn’t have a concern in the world, he flashed Suho a wickedly delighted smile and sat on the bed.  “I’m the plug, you’re the socket?  You want to be the plug?”

            Suho had never heard it described that way before.  It was kind of cute.  “You can,” he laughed, “be the plug.”  He sank onto his back, spreading his thighs and lifting his knees.

            Sexy and lithe, Dongwoo crawled over him.  As he gazed upward, Dongwoo gave him a cheerful, flirtatious smile that practically invited him to come on an adventure.  Then Dongwoo’s hands were sliding over his body, stroking his chest and rubbing his thighs, and as his temperature rose, Dongwoo looked him over with an appreciative, speculative, lustful smirk.  “So hot, I didn’t even know you were this sexy.  Ahhh, I’m going to love coming in you.”  With that, Dongwoo cupped his chin and kissed him.  It was a deep, lewd kiss, Dongwoo’s tongue taunting and plundering while he moaned rapturously.

            Oh, god, nothing had changed.  He didn’t have the upper hand at all, and he was less and less interested in bothering with it.  Why should he put effort into running things when Dongwoo had the situation so well under control?

            Dongwoo definitely knew what he was doing.  The way he kissed had Suho completely under his spell, whimpering and panting like an excited, obedient dog.  The grip and rub and slide of his hands had Suho’s body arching and twisting in carnal ecstasy.  It was impossible to hold still; wherever his touch traveled, Suho writhed and flexed, trying to get closer, rising against his hands.  He caressed Suho’s abs, dragged his nails lightly over Suho’s thighs, drew lines up and down Suho’s sides, toyed with Suho’s nipples, and Suho just writhed, rocking against him in mindless need, moaning gratefully into his hot, ravaging kisses.

            “So sexy, you’re so sexy, my cock is so hard,” Dongwoo panted, and then Dongwoo’s tongue was in his mouth again, right where it was supposed to be, where he needed it to be, and he was whimpering happily, and oh, oh, oh!  A slim, slick finger was pushing into him.  The sense of penetration was so welcome that he groaned, digging his nails into Dongwoo’s nape.  Pleasure scorched him as Dongwoo stroked into him, and he squirmed, panting, trying to work himself farther onto Dongwoo’s fingers.

            Oh, god, what was happening?  Was it supposed to feel like this?  Need and heat were shooting through him in fast, dangerous pulses.  His whole body was tense, his muscles tight, and he kept shuddering like a phone set to vibrate.  This was just the set-up, the lead-in, but it felt so good, he couldn’t contain it, couldn’t hold it in.  “Oh, oh, oh god, oh my god, ah, why, why.”  He needed more of this, he needed so much more of this, right now, how could he get this to go on forever?  “Fuck me,” that would do it, that was what he needed, “I need you to f-f-fuck me.”

            “Yeah.”  Dongwoo’s voice was deep, dark with lust, dangerously seductive.  “Oh, yeah, you need this cock.  Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

            Why hadn’t anyone told him how amazing this felt?  Why hadn’t the members warned him that he was going to feel a hundred little pleasure bombs go off just during the prep?  He felt like he’d just had fireworks go off inside his body, and lived to tell about it.

            Oh, what was, “Ah, ah,” something was, “oh, haa-ahh-ahhh,” pressing into him, “ahh, yes,” giving him the most delicious stretch, “god, yes,” sinking deep into him, “oh, oh,” so deep, so good, “yes, yes, more,” filling him, “unnnh,” so full, “god,” this was the best, the best, the best.  “In me, in me, yes.”  He’d never felt anything like this before, this gorgeous ache, like the grandest sense of need and the most magnificent sense of fulfillment, all at once.  It was like he was the thirstiest he’d ever been, and at the same time he was downing pure, delicious water, and his thirst wasn’t quenched yet but god, yes, it was about to be, he knew it.

            “Yeah, all the way in, gonna give you as much as you can take.”  Shifting over him, moving inside of him, Dongwoo pushed his knees toward his shoulders.  It was an undignified position, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything other than the way pleasure and need clashed inside his body, other than the way Dongwoo’s hands slid over his thighs, other than the lusting, appreciative, lascivious way Dongwoo eyed him.  “Unnh,” and Dongwoo stared down at him, lips parted, undulating, “yeah, feels so good.”

            Pleasure spiked in a bright shock, and Suho gripped his thighs, pulling his knees in, staring up at Dongwoo in disbelief.  The raw sexuality of Dongwoo’s body, the lewd roll and thrust of Dongwoo’s hips, so carnal and so sinuous, stunned him, and the hot lightning strike of ecstasy felt like nothing else in life.  It happened again, and again, and as Dongwoo’s cock rocked thickly into him over and over, he realized that this wasn’t an anomaly, this was what sex was, this was it, this was what being fucked felt like.  These intense blasts of pleasure, the slick slide of cock, the movement and rhythm, were like a tempest, a passionate storm in his body.  Pleasure was burning, searing, all the way through his brain, and the deep ache of his cock was a desperate plea for more that echoed through his whole body.

            Delivering that pleasure with every thrust, rocking into him rhythmically, sinuous and aggressive, Dongwoo bent his legs farther, pushing his knees to the mattress, folding him in half.  Driving into him with forceful strokes, Dongwoo wore a knowing, predatory sneer of sexual mastery and sensual delight.  This wasn’t at all how he’d expected this encounter to go, but god, “Ooohh, ohh, ooohh,” it was everything his body needed.

            While ecstatic moans chased each other from Suho’s throat, one right after another, he ran his hands down Dongwoo’s smooth back.  Dongwoo pressed closer, so close now that he could see the precise, deep-dark shade of brown of Dongwoo’s eyes, so close that he felt quick, panting breaths against his skin.  So intimate and so intense, he’d never had sex like this, he hadn’t even known that he wanted sex to be like this.  Dongwoo kissed him, nipping lightly at his lower lip, and he moaned, unable to bear the additional stimulation.  When Dongwoo’s next thrust set off a dense, shuddering explosion within him, he cried out, his head going back as his back arched, his nails scraping across Dongwoo’s spine.  Dongwoo moaned, “Fuck, yes, you’re so hot,” and kissed his jaw, sucking at his skin.

            He couldn’t take it, it was too much, the ecstasy, the need, he had to - - oh, “Yes, ahhh, hooo-ohhhh-ooh, yes, do it.”  Dongwoo’s hand was jacking his cock, fondling the rigid ache of his erection with pulling strokes.  The pace was too quick but he’d craved it for too long and before he could adjust to this new sphere of pleasure he was coming.  Bliss flooded him, pure and absolute, and he gave himself over to it, wailing joyously and coming in Dongwoo’s hand.  His body, his whole being, tightened up around a knot of rapturous ecstasy until it exploded outward, and as pleasure suffused every inch, every cell of him, he howled with it, so glad, so fulfilled, that the whole room seemed brighter.

            “Yeah, oh, yeah, that’s it,” and with a low, sexy, snarling breath, Dongwoo kissed him.  Moaning, living in a place where everything felt good, he kissed back.  He loved the agile thrust and taunting slide of Dongwoo’s tongue, loved the plush softness of Dongwoo’s lips, and as Dongwoo continued to fuck him, he wrapped his arms around Dongwoo’s rocking body.  “Unnnh, yeah, so hot, I’m gonna come.”

            “Ooh, do it,” Suho panted, holding onto Dongwoo.  “Come, come.”  He felt terrific, felt different.  Felt sexy and worldly, all of a sudden.  Felt a little primal, like he’d just gotten in touch with his baser nature.  He wanted to rut around like an animal in heat and eat steak.  “So good, love it, come in me.”  What was he doing, what was he saying, he never talked like this.  But it felt good, felt great, and Dongwoo was kissing his mouth and groaning breathlessly and so sexy, and he loved sex, sex was the best, why didn’t he do this all of the time?

            Dongwoo tensed against him, then made a helpless, ecstatic sound.  “Ah, oh, that’s it, oh.”  Falling still, Dongwoo panted into his mouth.  “Ah, shit.  I’m done.”

            Was it over?  Suho was okay with that.  He felt like he’d be okay with anything and everything, at that moment.  Hugging Dongwoo, he relaxed, closing his eyes, enjoying this blissful, carnal feeling.  If things had gone according to plan, he’d kiss Dongwoo politely and excuse himself to wash up, but he didn’t feel like getting up.  He didn’t feel like moving at all.  He really liked the feeling of Dongwoo’s soft skin and firm body pressed against him, and he wanted to stay there for a while longer.

            “Unnh.”  Dongwoo collapsed on top of him, nose against his cheek.  “Wow.”  Happy, carefree laughter.  Dongwoo kissed the corner of his mouth.  “Want to do it again?”

            “Again?”  Suho’s eyes opened.

            “Mmm.”  Dongwoo was kissing his neck and rubbing his side and making pleasure swirl through him with dreamy warmth.  “Can you sit on top this time?  I want to watch you ride while I fuck you.”

            Licking his lips, he tried to picture it.  He imagined sitting astride Dongwoo’s naked, thrusting body while Dongwoo undulated and gave him those appreciative, lustful looks.  “Yes,” he murmured while heat pooled in his stomach.  “Okay, we can do that.”



            A few weeks later, Baekhyun and Tao sat on the couch, watching TV, while Suho walked Dongwoo to the front door.  Dongwoo grabbed Suho’s ass; he laughed and pushed Dongwoo’s hand away.  “I’ll see you on Thursday?”

            “I thought this was Thursday,” Dongwoo said as Suho handed him his phone and keys.

            “Today’s Friday.  Or,” Suho checked the time, “it’s Saturday, now.”

            “Oh.”  He set down his keys and tapped at his phone.  “Okay, yeah.  Thursday.”

            “Okay.  I’ll call you.”  He zipped up Dongwoo’s jacket and smiled as Dongwoo leaned in for a kiss.

            As they kissed, Baekhyun rolled his eyes and looked away; Tao watched, smirking.

            “Wait, Saturday?” Dongwoo asked suddenly.  “Am I not going to Japan today?”

            “That’s next Saturday, hyung.”

            “Oh my god,” Baekhyun whispered, chuckling under his breath.  “What does Suho hyung see in this sunbae?”

            “Oh.”  Dongwoo nodded.  Then he kissed Suho again.  Setting his phone aside, he got both hands on Suho’s ass, lifting.  Leaning back into the wall, Suho moaned, arms winding around his neck.

            As Dongwoo’s hips ground against Suho, Baekhyun winced and turned up the volume on the TV, and Tao licked his lips, nodding.

            “Mmm, oh,” Suho moaned.  “Ah, hyung, Dongwoo hyung.  Go, you should go.”

            “Yeah,” Dongwoo breathed, kissing him again.

            Baekhyun flipped channels during a commercial break.

            Laughing, Suho pushed at Dongwoo’s chest.  “Hyung, please, come on, you have to go.”

            “Oh, wait,” Dongwoo said.  “Yeah, right, I should go.”  He kissed Suho’s cheek.  “Call me in case I forget to call you.”

            “I will.  Bye, hyung.”

            Dongwoo opened the door.

            “Hyung,” Suho said, chuckling.  “Your phone.”

            “Oh?  Oh!”  Dongwoo laughed, picking up his phone.  “I might need this!”  He kissed Suho again.  “Bye.”

            “Keys,” Suho said.

            “Oh!”  Dongwoo’s smile was bright.  “Those will come in handy!  Okay.”  He kissed Suho again and asked, “Did I forget anything else?”

            Leaning against the door until it shut, Suho gazed into his eyes, stroking his chest and smiling fondly.  “You always remember what’s important.”

            On cue, Dongwoo smiled and kissed him.



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Copyright September 23, 2013
by Matthew Haldeman-Time