As soon as they stepped inside the guest room door, before it had even closed completely, they threw themselves at each other.
Thud, Yoon Jooho roughly shoved Song Hyunsoo against the Hallway wall.
“Mm!”
Their lips collided and mashed together. Their hands, desperate for something, frantically roamed, grabbing, squeezing, scratching each other’s bodies.
The Suit he’d been holding was tossed aside, rolling across the floor.
Yoon Jooho seemed like a man intent on leaving Song Hyunsoo’s lips ragged.
Scraping with his upper teeth, nibbling, biting—then, suddenly, his tongue forced its way in, rampaging carelessly inside Song Hyunsoo’s mouth.
He kissed like someone who’d never learned how, just a rookie, wild with excitement.
Song Hyunsoo slipped his hand down the front of Yoon Jooho’s clothes. Even through the fabric, he could clearly feel how hard he was.
The fullness that filled his palm sent a jolt through his body, knowing exactly what it would feel like once it was inside him.
“When did you start feeling this way?”
“And you?”
“Ah!”
Yoon Jooho, who had been kneading Song Hyunsoo’s chest under the Sweatshirt, suddenly changed direction, thrusting his hand straight into his Jeans.
The hand that slipped right into his Underwear grabbed his arousal, which was anything but soft.
As Song Hyunsoo twisted his waist, he played with the back of Yoon Jooho’s neck.
“In the car… when you held my waist, hyung. What about you?”
“At the restaurant.”
“Really?”
Yoon Jooho, surprising Song Hyunsoo, wrapped his hand around his leg and lifted it up to his own waist.
He kissed the exposed nape—smooch, smooch—caressing his hips broadly, then, with a grunt, lifted him with strength.
The next moment, Song Hyunsoo’s feet were off the ground, looking down at Yoon Jooho’s face from above.
Holding him just like that, Yoon Jooho headed for the Bedroom. Song Hyunsoo felt a laugh bubbling up.
Clinging to his neck with his arms around his waist, he ducked his head and giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just… nothing.”
“You’re laughing even though you don’t know what’s about to happen to you?”
After passing through the Living Room and another Hallway, Yoon Jooho arrived at the innermost Bedroom.
Song Hyunsoo raised his head to look down at Yoon Jooho’s face, still smiling.
“It just doesn’t suit you, carrying me like this, hyung.”
“Ah… I’m not romantic, huh?”
Yoon Jooho’s cool, straight brows twisted into a frown.
“Yoon Jooho is a trash boyfriend?”
“What? Why are you exaggerating again—!”
Song Hyunsoo, about to protest, was tossed onto the pristine, wrinkle-free white Bed. He bounced high from the force—this was just like Yoon Jooho.
Climbing up onto the Bed, Yoon Jooho immediately straddled Song Hyunsoo’s body.
Grabbing both wrists and pinning them to the Sheet, he bent down and smirked.
His face was satisfied, as if he’d finally caught his prey and could do as he pleased.
Rubbing the inside of the wrist he’d seized with his thumb, he pressed his own bulging arousal against the front of Song Hyunsoo’s clothes.
“Should we try that thing?”
His expression was oddly curious and ominous.
That thing?
Not understanding what he meant, Song Hyunsoo frowned the very next moment.
“No way… You brought it?”
“It’s a Gift. Not trying it would be ignoring their sincerity.”
He was talking about the “Gift” Seo Hae had given.
To be honest, Song Hyunsoo wasn’t completely uninterested either.
They weren’t even serious toys, just playful novelties.
Sex with him had never been boring—and likely never would be—but as a little souvenir for the trip, a bit of spice wouldn’t hurt…
Yoon Jooho leaned in closer, pressing his lips to the shell of Song Hyunsoo’s ear and whispering.
“Show me what you look like in sexy Underwear.”
The sound of his warm, wet tongue stickily, sweetly teasing his ear made Song Hyunsoo tilt his chin and shake his head.
This time, Yoon Jooho sucked on his earlobe, coaxing.
“I want to see.”
“Let… let me get ready by myself, then.”
Yoon Jooho immediately wrinkled his nose.
“I was planning to help you, you know.”
He’d intended to wear Song Hyunsoo out from the Bathroom.
There was nothing more fantastic than entering a body that had melted completely from over an hour of foreplay.
“When you help, hyung, you get too persistent—it’s impossible.”
“How’s that a bad thing?”
“By the time we get to the main event, I’m already exhausted.”
But that’s the good part.
While Yoon Jooho hesitated, Song Hyunsoo looped his arms around his neck.
With Yoon Jooho’s hands supporting his back, Song Hyunsoo sat up and kissed his sharp nose tip.
“You have to know how to wait if you want a reward.”
“……”
“You can wait, right?”
“When did you learn to be so bewitching…”
He knew full well Song Hyunsoo was trying to entrance him—and still fell for it.
Smiling, he watched Song Hyunsoo’s retreating back as he left the Bed for the Bathroom, and scratched the back of his neck, muttering. I’ve really become a fool.
.
When Song Hyunsoo returned from the Bathroom after getting ready, Yoon Jooho was sitting on the Bedroom Sofa in a robe, drinking Champagne.
Scattered on the Bed were conspicuous Pink Handcuffs and a Blindfold, a Pink Feather Stick, and several tubes of Lubricant.
Sensing the night would be a long one, Song Hyunsoo swallowed dryly.
The only light in the Bedroom was a Stand Lamp by the Sofa, leaving the room just dim enough.
Through the gap in the Curtain, open about a third, the Eiffel Tower shone.
From his seat, Yoon Jooho gazed at Song Hyunsoo. The heavy gaze was almost unbearable. Drawn in, Song Hyunsoo walked towards him.
Yoon Jooho looked up at Song Hyunsoo standing before him.
Damp hair, a pleasant scent, cheeks flushed from staying so long in the Bathroom.
Everything about him already declared he was ready for sex, and it was enough to provoke Yoon Jooho.
Fiddling with the belt of his robe in front of his eyes, Yoon Jooho spoke with a note of complaint.
“You took longer than usual.”
“You can’t wait even this long?”
“I almost rushed in and jumped on you.”
Yoon Jooho played with the belt, tugging it lightly—then suddenly, with a sharp pull, untied it.
Pulling loose the robe’s belt on Song Hyunsoo—this was one of Yoon Jooho’s favorite moments in the whole process of sex.
Even knowing what was inside, every time, it felt like opening a Gift.
“Hm…”
This time, he rubbed his lips with his right hand and let out a low, dragging groan.
Under the robe, Song Hyunsoo wore nothing but a Jockstrap.
Just a scrap of cloth barely containing his penis and balls, the rest nothing but straps—an especially daring design, even for a Jockstrap.
With his brow furrowed and eyes locked onto a single spot, Yoon Jooho looked almost serious.
“You’re clearly out for trouble with that.”
“That’s all you have to say after I went to the trouble of wearing it?”
As Song Hyunsoo moved to discard his robe, Yoon Jooho grabbed his wrist firmly.
“Hold on. I’m still processing the shock.”
“What shock?”
Forcing the robe open again, Yoon Jooho slipped a hand inside, stroking Song Hyunsoo’s firm side, unable to tear his eyes away from the provocative sight in front of him.
He shook his head slowly in disbelief.
“Something so blatant. I always thought I’d find this not sexy at all, not my type. But now, I’m shocked at how turned on I am.”
Song Hyunsoo played with Yoon Jooho’s damp hair.
“I told you, hyung. I’m beyond your preferences.”
Looking down at Yoon Jooho with a broad smile, his handsome face looked even younger than his real age.
He looked as though he could do anything, as though for the one thing he truly wanted, he’d throw everything else away……
Song Hyunsoo’s eyes and body were filled with the kind of untamable youth that couldn’t be bound by money, fame, or power.
Yoon Jooho himself was still plenty young.
But his entire life had been bound by the pressure to be more perfect, to reach higher.
He’d never had that kind of boldness that Song Hyunsoo exuded. Maybe that was why he was so captivated.
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