๐จ๐ช๐๐๐ง.
hongjoong likes to think of wooyoung as a plate of sweets. because boy does really taste like that; all nice and soft, for him to devour at times. addictive, even. because he couldn't get enough, even after he had eaten him out for hours. until his personal embodiment of sunshine writhing beneath, all shaking and shedding tears. he look so pretty like that, and hongjoong would never can avert his gaze away.
โhyeong,โ
hongjoong simply hums. his lips, are still moving against wooyoung's skin. mapping out every inches, like it's his personal mission to finish alone.
โhyeong,โ
again, comes the whiny voice. hongjoong heaves out a soft sigh, and looks up from where he seated in between those heavenly meaty thighs. there's a small bead of sweat rolling down across wooyoung cheek, and hongjoong can't really help himself. he leans closer, and lets his tongue do the job; licking away the salty treat, as he grins cheekily. oh, ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฅ. he really does want to take his baby apart all night.
โsweet,โ he murmurs against wooyoung's forehead. the boy shudders violently, and hongjoong smiles. โwhat is it, my love? tell me.โ
โyou're awfully slow today,โ wooyoung says.
hongjoong laughs, and leaves butterfly kisses thorough the boy's neck. occasionally, giving him traces as well. red will bloom soon, and he loves the thought. because people knows he's possessive, and he knows how proud he is to stare at the marks wooyoung put on display around their friends.
โyou look so pretty today,โ hongjoong whispers. he drinks in the way wooyoung's back arches beautifully at his words. โlet me worship you in peace, my love.โ
hongjoong, likes to think of wooyoung as a cake tonight. with layers of creamy treats. thus, he takes his time to unravel wooyoung as careful as possible. devouring the boy from head to toe, because that's just how much he longs for wooyoung; yearning for every pieces of him. because quick fuck, while it's nice and all, is not on his list today. because maybe, just maybe, deep down he does want wooyoung to feel his love through the soft touches of his fingers and his lips. the unsaid ones, where he can only be brave when the light's out and the clothes are off.
๐ช ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, he dares himself to whisper into wooyoung's mouth, while he enters the boy slowly. he swallows them all; the soft gasp, the squeaky whine, even the long reddish lines across his back that wooyoung's nails just made. he presses in, and kisses the boy silly. the butterflies, can have the party all they want inside.
because when wooyoung preens and cries it out back, hongjoong ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ.
๐ ๐ก๐๐ช๐จ๐, 1.12 pm.