Hyuntak keeps catching himself doing unnecessary little things like leaning too close, brushing shoulders, reaching for things he doesn’t need. Things that aren’t like him at all. Suho, in pre-rut, doesn’t call him out or tease him the way he normally would.

He’s too focused, too distracted, as if every move Hyuntak makes pulls him deeper into his own head. In his defense, that’s exactly the effect he wants. At one point Suho sprawls across the sofa like an asshole, taking up the entire space.

Hyuntak climbs on him anyway, something he usually does just to piss him off. But this time, instead of sitting anywhere else, he drops himself directly onto Suho’s crotch, pressing down hard with his ass. The sound Suho makes is quite loud.

For a second, Suho’s hand lingers tight at his waist, almost like he won’t let go. But then Suho jerks upright so fast it nearly sends Hyuntak tumbling. Hyuntak stands too, slipping away to the corner of the couch with a mask of nonchalance, acting like nothing happened.

Suho doesn’t say a word. After that, no matter what Hyuntak tries, Suho still doesn’t give in. By the time night falls, Hyuntak’s tired of his own stupid game. After dinner, he takes a long shower, letting the water run over him while his thoughts spiral.

If he’s being honest, it hurts a little. Not so much but a dull ache at the loss of contact. Suho’s still him, still clingy in that quiet way but he hasn’t made a move since their makeout that morning. Nothing. He doesn’t understand the sudden restraint. He doesn’t fucking get it

He’s made it obvious. If pressing on him, leaning into him, showing over and over that it’s fine, that he wants it aren’t any fucking enough. Hell, Suho already touched him last night. So why the hell is he holding back now?

The more he thinks about it, the more infuriating it becomes. Because sometimes it feels like he’s the one in heat. He’s the one restless, wanting more, aching for contact. What the fuck. “Fine,” Hyuntak mutters, dragging a towel across his damp hair.

Another clings low on his waist as he meets his reflection in the mirror. His lashes are heavy, his mouth pulled into a thin line. “Suit himself.” He throws on sweatpants and the first hoodie he grabs, then heads to the kitchen.

He digs out some candies, unwrapping one and sitting on the counter with his phone, chewing slowly. He hears the bathroom door open. Suho steps out, nothing on but a towel slung around his waist. Hyuntak stands from where he’s sitting and walks past him,

barely giving him a glance, determined not to give him any attention. He doesn’t expect anything and doesn’t even brace when Suho suddenly grabs him and slams him back against the wall. The impact bites sharp into his spine, forcing a hiss out of him.

Hyuntak glares immediately, eyes narrowing as his back throbs from the force. Hyuntak’s ready to curse him out for the slam against the wall but the words die on his tongue when he sees Suho’s face. Serious. Flushed.

Eyes half-lidded, heavy with something that makes Hyuntak’s chest tighten. And Suho isn’t even looking at him, his gaze is fixed on the hoodie. “That’s mine,” Suho says finally, voice rough. Hyuntak blinks, brows rising. He glances down at himself.

“The fuck are you on about? This is mine.” At that, Suho’s eyes lift, locking with his. His fingers toy with the hem of the hoodie, almost like he can’t stop himself from touching it. “It’s too big on you. If you haven’t noticed.”

Hyuntak scoffs, ready to bite back, but then he actually looks. The hoodie is blue, sure. His color. His style. He’s certain it was his when he pulled it on but now, with Suho’s words, memory catches up. Suho has one too. Same color but slightly lighter. Definitely bigger.

And this one.. yeah, it’s roomy. Looser than his own. More fabric hanging around his wrists and shoulders than there should be. Not by much, he tells himself, because fuck if he’ll admit it. Just a little. Pride curdling in his chest, Hyuntak sighs and glances back at him.

Suho hasn’t moved, hasn’t looked away. He’s staring so much and the intensity of it makes Hyuntak’s skin hot. Too fucking hot. “Might’ve gotten mixed up in my pile,” Hyuntak mutters, trying to sound bored, to cover the way his ears feel like they’re on fire. “So what?”

Silence stretches. Suho doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring until Hyuntak feels his skin heating under the weight of it. Hyuntak huffs, heat climbing up his neck. “I’ll take it off—” He doesn’t get to finish.

Suho moves faster than he can think, slamming his mouth against Hyuntak’s in a kiss that feels less like a choice and more like restraint finally snapping. The force of it steals Hyuntak’s breath, rough, cutting his words right out of his throat. Rude bastard.

The kiss iis nothing like the one in the morning. There’s no hesitation, no tentative brush of lips. It’s rushed, messy, all open mouths and tongue, a headlong dive into something Hyuntak wasn’t braced for. Suho’s hands are locked on either side of his jaw, rough and desperate.

Hyuntak can barely react, can’t even think, not with the sudden attack on his lips that feels more like he’s being devoured than kissed. Suho’s weight presses closer and Hyuntak feels the damp warmth of Suho’s forehead against his own, water still dripping from his hair.

The contact makes his breath stagger, his body burn hotter than he wants to admit. And just as abrupt as it started, it ends. Suho rips himself back with a gasp, leaving Hyuntak drowning in the loss of it, lips tingling.

“Keep it on,” Suho rasps, his voice wrecked. His palms are still cupping Hyuntak’s face, thumbs pressing into his cheeks. Hyuntak’s fingers are on his wrists before he even realizes it, breath ragged, vision swimming.

He hasn’t recovered when suddenly he’s being dragged again. Suho’s grip doesn’t let up. He shoves him down, firmer than usual, until Hyuntak stumbles back and lands on the couch. “What the hell—” is all Hyuntak manages before Suho is already moving,

situating himself on the floor, crowding between his legs. His big hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants and tug, knuckles brushing his skin. “Suho—” His voice cracks as panic catches up with him. He shoots forward, grabs Suho’s wrists, forcing him still.

His eyes are wide, trembling. “What do you think you’re doing?” For the first time, Suho falters. He actually looks startled. But it lasts all of half a second before that familiar grin curls at his mouth infuriatingly, even with his chest heaving.

“You seem to be waiting for this to happen, no?” Hyuntak’s whole body floods hot. He yells, louder than he means to, heart in his throat. “No!” But Suho doesn’t seem to hear him. Or maybe he doesn’t care. He dips lower, nosing shamelessly at his crotch.

Mouth hovering over the growing heat still trapped by fabric. Hyuntak’s fists clench in his sweatpants, holding them up in a pathetic barricade. The sight alone makes Hyuntak dizzy. Suho kneeling between his legs, looking up at him with those fucking eyes, intent and unrelenting.

Then Suho’s lips part, and for one terrifying, thrilling second, Hyuntak knows he’s about to do something unholy.

“W–wait—” Hyuntak blurts, his hand flying to Suho’s cheek out of pure panic. His voice comes out rushed, shaking. “Fine, fine. I… I waited for this. But not there, hm?” He swallows hard, heart pounding. “Just—just fucking kiss me right here.”

For a moment, Suho stills. His eyes search Hyuntak’s face, unreadable. Then, slowly, he takes Hyuntak’s hand from his cheek and presses his lips to his palm. The gesture is gentle and it knocks the air right out of Hyuntak’s lungs. He relaxes despite himself, his chest loosening.

And just when he thinks the moment has softened, Suho moves again, swift. He yanks Hyuntak’s sweatpants down just enough to bare him and Hyuntak’s body betrays him, already hard from everything that came before.

Mortified, Hyuntak jerks, his hands scrambling to cover himself but Suho catches them, locking their fingers together in a firm clasp. “I’ll kiss you here,” Suho murmurs, voice thick. Then he leans down, brushing a single peck against Hyuntak’s cock.

The contact makes Hyuntak shudder violently, his head tipping forward, breath caught in his throat. He hears the low curl of a smirk from Suho, feels the warmth of his cheek brushing his cock, and when he dares to glance down, he nearly loses his mind.

Suho’s face is flushed, damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead, his half-lidded gaze burning straight through him. “I’m done holding back, Go Hyuntak.” Oh God. He’s fucked.

tbc!! (do not bookmark this) i know i know sorry had to stop here, the next scene is not yet complete :< https://reeboun.straw.page