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The sound of the door falling shut echoes through the otherwise silent hotel room and sends shivers down Jihoon‘s spine. Moments later the light gets switched on and isn’t that just rude? He could have been sleeping here. He is not, but that’s not the point.

 

 

It’s the middle of the night, hours after SKt T1 has crushed Koo Tigers in the 2015 world championship finale. Jihoon had excused himself early from the celebrations, claiming a bad headache to escape to the quiet hotel room he shared with Lee “Faker” Sanghyeok, who had been crowned world champion for the second time tonight.

 

 

Sanghyeok was standing next to the bathroom door now, looking at Jihoon, intently. Jihoon had been lying here, fully clothed on his bed for god knows how many hours, thoughts coursing through his head in circles. He had needed the time to think but now Sanghyeok is here and even though he is not saying anything yet, his presence alone is enough to make the air in the room feel heavy with something Jihoon has long stopped trying to explain.

 

 

Eventually he turns his head to look at Sanghyeok.

 

 

“I won.” Sanghyeok says a not so subtle cockiness in his voice. It’s more than a little annoying. Jihoon isn’t having it, not now, not when they are alone.

 

 

“I know.” He says calmly like they are talking about something trivial like the weather. “I was there.”

 

 

“Really?” Sanghyeok tilts his head, a sly smile playing on his face. “I don’t quite remember. Where were you? When our team made them bleed? Made them bow before us?”

 

 

Jihoon presses his lips into a tight line, not saying anything, but not looking away either, holding the younger boy’s gaze. “On the bench.” He gets out through gritted teeth eventually. Sanghyeok wins. This game they are playing, it drives Jihoon crazy. Sanghyeok knows exactly what he is saying, what he is doing. It’s all calculated and Jihoon hates it so much. Hates that Sanghyeok has this kind of power over him, turning him into this person he barely even recognizes, this person that does things he can’t even dare to think about in the daylight. He gets under his skin like no one else.

 

 

“Oh right.” Sanghyeok says, while carefully kneeling down and taking his shoes off and putting them neatly next to the door, before straightening again casually glancing over at Jihoon. “The bench.” He nods “And …Jihoon how did that feel like?”

 

 

“Sanghyeok…” Jihoon sits up, adjusting his glasses before turning to fully face the other boy “Just stop. I’m not in the mood for this.”

 

 

“Are you mad? Angry?” Sanghyeok questions, that smug little smile still present on his face “You must wonder if you could have done it. I would. If you could have lead us to victory like I did, or if you would have failed. Hm? What do you think, Easyhoon?”

 

 

He’s standing in front of Jihoon now, looking down on him, the silver medal dangling on his chest right in front of Jihoon’s face. Sanghyeok lets his fingers ghost over Jihoon’s cheek, his thumb briefly brushing over his lips.

 

 

Jihoon lets out a shuddery breath but refuses to back down. He can already feel anger boiling in his guts, his insides twisting into a painful knot at Sangyheok for being so disrespectful.

 

 

“I don’t know. Faker.” He spits out saying the name like a curse, like it’s poison in his mouth.

 

 

“Yes.” Sanghyeok seems unfazed by the venom in Jihoon’s voice. “You don’t know. And neither do I. And the truth is, we will never know. Because it doesn’t matter how good you play…it will always be me in the end. When it really matters it will be me. I will be on stage. I-“

 

 

Jihoon gets on his feet and slaps Sanghyeok across the face before another word makes it out of his mouth.

 

 

They both stand frozen for a second, then Sanghyeok looks at him, his cheek bright red from Jihoon’s hand. There is that look in his dark eyes that Jihoon knows all too well by now.

 

 

“Does that make you feel better?” Sanghyeok asks with a taunting innocence in his voice “Does it? You should do it again then. It’s the least I ca-“ Jihoon smacks him across the face again, harder this time and he hates himself for it.

 

 

This, this is what Sanghyeok wants, what he came here for, and he’s pulling Jihoon’s strings like a puppet master.

 

 

Sanghyeok has the audacity to smirk, biting his lip, like some school girl.

 

 

“You are such a fucking brat.” Jihoon hisses, grabbing Sanghyeok by the collar of his team jacket, their faces now impossibly close, he can feel the other boy’s breath on his skin. Sanghyeok’s mouth opens slightly. Jihoon can see him trying to close the distance between them by leaning in, but just as their lips are about to meet Jihoon shoves him back hard, making the younger boy stumble backwards and for a split second there is something like surprise visible in Sanghyeok’s eyes.

 

 

It’s sweet sweet gratification for Jihoon, making his skin tingle but he keeps his expression cool just lifting an eyebrow at Sanghyeok.

 

 

“A childish undeserving brat, that’s what you are.”

 

 

Sanghyeok glares at him making a step forward again towards Jihoon, his voice barely more than a whisper when he whispers “A brat that happens to be world champion. Twice.”

 

 

This time Jihoon dashes forward slamming Sanghyeok against the wall. “And what would people think,” he hisses keeping Sanghyeok in place with his forearm pressed against his chest, “If they knew that their precious world champion is getting hard from being slapped around?” for emphasizes he grabs Sanghyeok’s crotch with his free hand. And sure enough the other boy is hard, painfully so, judging from the moan that escapes his mouth at the sudden contact.

 

 

He allows Sanghyeok to grind against his hand for a few seconds before he grips his hair with both hands, to roughly pull him into a kiss that is more teeth and tongue than anything else. Jihoon catches Sanghyeok’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard.

 

 

Sanghyeok lets out a sharp gasp at the sudden pain and this time it’s Jihoon’s turn to smirk.

 

 

When Jihoon pulls back he sees that he’s drawn blood. The sight of it fills him with a sick kind of pride that’s at war with how disgusted he feels with himself for liking, for wanting this, for not being able to stop like he promised himself after the first, …the second, the 20th time. It would be easier to stop this, whatever this is, if it weren’t for Sanghyeok actively seeking him out, deliberately riling him up, and getting his blood boiling.

 

 

And Jihoon lets it happen. He knew the second Sanghyeok walked in that this is how they would end up sooner or later. And he still lets it happen every time, powerless under Sanghyeok’s control. It makes him even angrier at the other boy.

 

 

Jihoon grabs him by the chin and forces him to look up; the little drop of blood glistening on his slights pated lips. Jihoon moves his thumb to it, pressed on briefly and the way Sanghyeok shivers at that but otherwise remains unmoving, makes Jihoon’s cock twitch in his jeans. He then drags his thumbs down, smearing the blood on the pale skin.

 

 

“Take off your clothes.” Jihoon commands taking a few steps back to give Sanghyeok some room to move, his eyes resting expectantly on him.

 

 

It feels like forever until Sanghyeok finally starts to move, agonizingly slow sliding an arm out of his jacket, the taking it off all together, letting it drop unceremoniously onto the floor. The room is so silent so full with tension that the sound of the fabric hitting the ground seems unnaturally loud. But they never break eye contact, not for a second.

 

 

When Sanghyeok moves to take off his world champion medal Jihoon stops him with a sharp and sudden “No. leave it on.”

 

 

Sanghyeok freezes mid-movement, then slowly tugs the medal under his shirt so he can take it off without removing the medal.

 

 

Jihoon has his lips pressed into a thin line as he watches, lets his eyes wander over Sanghyeok’s pale skinny torso, the medal hanging against his sternum. The metal must feel cold against his skin, there are goosebumps visible but Sanghyeok doesn’t say anything and neither does Jihoon. Instead he just reaches out and slides his hands from Sanghyeok’s throat gently down his chest, his own hand feeling strangely cold against the younger boy’s warm skin.

 

 

The touch is barely there, too soft, too gentle; it makes it even sweeter when he suddenly digs his nails into the middle of Sanghyeok’s chest, drawing red angry lines down the length of the younger boy’s torso.

 

 

Sanghyeok flinches and something close to a whimper escapes his lips before he presses them shut again. Jihoon leans in close, his lips almost brushing against Sanghyeok’s ear as he speaks in a low voice “Now your pants.”

 

 

Sanghyeok’s eyes dart from Jihoon’s eyes to his lips and back again within seconds. He wants to kiss, Jihoon can see that, knows Sanghyeok well enough by now but he still takes a step backwards, crossing his arms and waits, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Sanghyeok.

 

 

Sanghyeok stays still for what feels like forever before he slowly lets his own hand ghost over his chest, fingertips catching the tiny pearly of blood along the scratches were Jihoon’s nails had broken skin. He unbuttons his pants, then slowly pulls down the zipper and for the blink of an eye Jihoon’s breath gets stuck in his throat, when Sanghyeok finally pulls down those damn pants all the way down.

 

 

Goddamnit, Sanghyeok. Just when I thought I had you figured out…

 

 

They are bright red, silky with a little bit of delicate lace. And they are supposed to be worn by a girl, those godforsaken panties Sanghyeok is wearing. They sit tight, snug, on his slim body and Jihoon can’t even begin to imagine how uncomfortable they must be. He can see the outline of Sanghyeok’s erection, restricted by the tight fabric. Precome has already left a darker tainted spot on the red material, it makes Jihoon involuntary lick his lips. This is just too good.

 

 

“Well, look at that.” He says shaking his head “You are such a slut, aren’t you?”

 

 

To his satisfaction Sanghyeok blushes slightly but there is also challenge showing in his eyes, he holds his head up high, his jaw tight.

 

 

“You put this on for me?” Jihoon inquires but Sanghyeok remains stubbornly quiet, the almost invisible twitch of his fingers the only sign that he heard the older boy at all.

 

 

“Did you sneak away from the party to put this on? Hm, slut?”

 

 

The thought alone makes Jihoon more than a little harder but the second he says it he realizes that there is a second option and god that’s even better.

 

 

“You put them on before, didn’t you? You filthy little whore. You wore those on stage. In front of millions of people and no one knew. No one had a fucking clue and you got off on that didn’t you?”

 

 

Something like shame flashes in Sanghyeok eyes but it’s gone as fast as it came but that’s how Jihoon knows he is right. Fuck.

 

 

“You are so disgusting.” He spits and Sanghyeok lets out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “You are a disgrace and you know it, you slut. Wearing this on fucking stage, getting off on this… You wanted them to know didn’t you? That sick twisted part inside you wanted all those people to know that their midlane god is nothing but a little bitch in red panties.”

 

 

Jihoon runs a finger along the upper hem of the panties, rimmed with a delicate lace and even a little bow. He can feel Sanghyeok shiver at his words but when Sanghyeok speaks he doesn’t sound ashamed or embarrassed.

 

 

“But I was.” He hisses just as Jihoon thumbs his aching cock through the red fabric. “I was on stage.”

 

 

His eyes find Jihoon’s and the bastard has the nerve to smirk.

 

 

“A panties wearing slut carried the team to victory, while you,” he’s moving quickly then, pressing a short open mouthed kiss on Jihoon’s lips “…were on the bench.”

 

 

That stings.

 

 

“You fucking piece of shit” Jihoon growls “You are such a filthy little bitch, it’s revolting” His hand clenches around Sanghyeok’s throat, squeezing just the slightest bit, but it’s enough to make Sanghyeok’s eyes go wide, his small hands cautiously wrap around Jihoon’s wrist, not tugging, but it’s there. It’s some sort of acknowledgement that he knows what Jihoon could do but he’s cocky, he knows Jihoon won’t do anything, won’t tighten his grip, not yet at least.

 

 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sanghyeok says the slightest hint of arousal that doesn’t quite match the venom in his voice. “You are the pathetic one. With everything you say to me, you are just degrading yourself. Because whatever I am, I am still above you. I w-“

 

 

“You will shut your pretty little mouth before I make you.” Jihoon hisses, squeezing tight for a split second for emphasis.

 

 

Sanghyeok moans at that, a shiver running down his spine as he lets his hands fall from the older boy’s wrist to his waist, tentatively tugging at the belt loops.

 

 

He is so beautiful like this, pale skin flushed with arousal, already showing marks, lust blown eyes and those damn panties. Jihoon can’t help but let a small smile slip, remembering how he got them for Sanghyeok months ago. The panties and some cherry red lipstick to match them. He almost wishes they had it here with them now but the blood is almost better.

 

 

“Look at you.” Jihoon, his voice soft like velvet “You make such a pretty girl, right? Does it turn you on to be someone’s girl? Yes? What if I took you out like this, dressed up in a pretty little dress and a bow in your hair, would you like that?”

 

 

Of course he knows that there is no way they could ever do that, the risk of someone recognizing them is too damn high, but the thought leaves a delicious taste in Jihoon’s mouth and the way Sanghyeok presses his soft lips against his throat speaks for itself.

 

 

“What if I tied you up? Made you squirm and cry, but not touching your pretty little cock. I could make you come on nothing but your fingers in your tight boy cunt.” He licks his lips, one hand cupping Sanghyeok’s jaw while pressing his thigh between the boy’s legs, giving him something to grind on.

 

 

“But I don’t even need my fingers, am I right, babe? No I could make you come from this alone, make come in your pretty pretty panties like some horny teenager, just by talking dirty to you. That’s how fucked up you are.”

 

 

Sanghyeok gasps clawing his fingers into the fabric of Jihoon’s shirt. Because that’s what’s about to happen in a few seconds, he’s been waiting all night and Jihoon knows exactly what to say, but then Jihoon gives him a hard shove before grabbing Sanghyeok at the neck from behind hissing “We aren’t done yet.” in his ear.

 

 

He has an iron grip on Sanghyeok’s neck, steering him through the room towards the bed.

 

 

“Kneel.” He says and even after all the times they did this, a part of Jihoon is still a little surprised at how compliant Sanghyeok falls to his knees. It could almost be described as eager. Jihoon sits down on the edge of the bed in front of Sanghyeok so the younger boy is basically kneeling between his legs.

 

 

Jihoon leans back, propping himself up with both his arms. He smirks at Sanghyeok expectantly. When he doesn’t react Jihoon nudges his bare thigh with his foot. Sanghyeok understands and bows his head before getting to work, carefully opening the shoelaces before pulling the shoe off of Jihoon’s foot. They lock eyes for a moment, then Sanghyeok moves to remove the sock too, his touch light as a feather. He does the same to the other foot and then looks up at Jihoon, waiting, biting his lip.

 

 

The silver medal still dangles from his neck innocently.

 

 

This is a two times world champion on his knees in front of Jihoon. It gives him a sick kind of rush. He doesn’t know how being high feels like but he imagines it a little like this. He stretches out his leg slowly, but Sanghyeok doesn’t back away, not that Jihoon expected him to, when he presses the medal with his naked toes against Sanghyeok’s chest, right where the scratches are.

 

 

“You want to suck my dick?” He says and it’s more of a statement than a question, not taking his eyes of the medal, his tone nonchalantly like it’s nothing. But Sanghyeok doesn’t answer, his jaw set tight, his lips pressed shut.

 

 

“Answer me.”

 

 

“Yes.” Sanghyeok replies finally, his hands twitching in his lap.

 

 

“Go on then.” Jihoon says almost gently, nodding towards his own crotch.

 

 

Sanghyeok scrambles forward, fingers working quickly to open Jihoon’s belt, and then his fly. He pulls down the zipper and then hesitantly tugs at the waistband, looking up at Jihoon seeking permission. Jihoon helps him a little by lifting his hips so they can shove down his jeans and underwear.

 

 

Sanghyeok lets his hands run over Jihoon’s thighs before nuzzling his face against the soft skin. His warm breath makes Jihoon shiver. It’s a surprisingly sweet and soft gesture. It’s irritating, so he grabs Sanghyeok by the hair forcing him to look up with a hard yank.

 

 

The way Jihoon is staring at him, his eyes dark and lust filled and just a little bit animalistic, it makes Sanghyeok feel hot all over. Jihoon’s erect cock is right there in front of him, fully hard and leaking, precome glistening at the tip, so without further ado Sanghyeok ducks down and licks a wet broad stripe from the base to the tip on the underside of the older boy’s cock, drawing a surprised moan from him. his hands still rest on Jihoon’s lean thighs, he can feel the muscles twitch, can feel Jihoon’s fingers still buried in his hair, not yanking or tugging, not right now. But he could, oh he could. The thought alone makes Sanghyeok slip one hand from it’s place on Jihoon’s leg to his own crotch, palming himself through his pretty red panties.

 

 

“C’mon, open that pretty little mouth of yours. We both know you’ve been gagging for it all night.” Jihoon teases, pushing his hips forward, the tip of his cock breaching Sanghyeok’s lips just barely. It’s easy to let it happen, because Jihoon is right. Sanghyeok wants this, needs this and he knows he should feel ashamed like Jihoon tells him to and he does, after. Not now. Right now there is just the taste of the older boy’s cock on his tongue and his fingers twisted in Sanghyeok’s hair.

 

 

He sucks eagerly, keeping his eyes closed, fully focused on the task, not wanting any distractions. Jihoon thrusts into his mouth, hard and rough.

 

 

They don’t do gentle, they don’t do soft. It’s not what this is about.

 

 

He hits the back of Sanghyeok’s throat then, making him gag more than just a little but Sanghyeok doesn’t try to pull off, not that he could anyway, with Jihoon’s still in his hair keeping his head in place. He has to relax his throat; he knows that, take Jihoon deeper let him fuck his face as hard as he wants until his throat hurts for days. He knows that and he tries but it always takes him a moment and Jihoon doesn’t wait.

 

 

“Good boy.” Jihoon half moans while delivering a particularly hard thrust that makes tears dwell in Sanghyeok’s eyes. Once upon a time Jihoon would have pulled back at that, apologized, face flush and hands trembling but they are way beyond that. They know each other to well, what they want and need.

 

 

It feels so right to Sanghyeok he can’t help but moan around the older boy’s cock because when he doesn’t try to pull back Jihoon rewards him with a praising “Good girl” the words dripping with mockery.

 

 

Sanghyeok blushes leaning in even more taking the other boy’s cock even deeper, hollowing his cheeks and sucking the way he knows Jihoon likes, until his face is almost pressed against the older’s abdomen. He sneaks one hand up to play with Jihoon’s balls making him buck up into his mouth involuntarily.

 

 

Jihoon knows if Sanghyeok keeps this up he will come in no time and while coming on Sanghyeok’s face and hair, is tempting, it’s not enough. It’s not enough for a night like this. Tonight he wants more. He wishes he didn’t but he does.

 

 

Sanghyeok whines, when Jihoon pulls him off his cock, mercilessly by his hair. He says: “I don’t want to come yet.” And oh that makes Sanghyeok smirk; he can see in the way Jihoon’s face is twisted that it’s true. He got him so close, got him to lose his composure like this.

 

 

Sanghyeok doesn’t wipe away the spit and god knows what else that is running down from the corner of his mouth. He would like to pretend he does it because Jihoon likes it but that’s not the entire truth.

 

 

He climbs into the older boy’s lap and they pull off Jihoon’s shirt together. They kiss open mouthed and messy, Jihoon pulling him in and grabbing his ass with both his hands, massaging it slightly. There is no finesse or grace to what they are doing, there’s never been. It’s just primal urges colliding.

 

 

Sanghyeok pushes himself as close as he can to Jihoon, his painfully neglected cock aching between them, still trapped inside his panties.

 

 

“Perhaps,” he moans against Jihoon’s neck “You are the whore. Already being so close after I just teased you a bit.”

 

 

He gets the response he hoped for, not by words but by Jihoon sinking his teeth into the crook of Sanghyeok’s neck, sucking another bruise there, making Sanghyeok squirm in his lap, causing his toes to curl.

 

 

At the same time Jihoon lets his fingers slip under the red fabric, grabbing and squeezing his cheeks before spreading them just enough to push one finger in between them. He relishes in the way Sanghyeok shivers when he drags his fingertip over his rim lazily a few times, just teasing, not really doing anything. It’s the anticipation that makes Sanghyeok’s skin crawl with excitement.

 

 

He presses down on the finger, causing Jihoon to chuckle “So needy. You want it so bad, it’s pathetic.”

 

 

“Please.” Sanghyeok whispers but it turns into a cry when Jihoon pushes the finger in without a warning. When his finger is in to his knuckles he stills, a small grin on his face. He knows Sanghyeok gets impatient quickly like the spoiled brat he is, having him role his hips in a desperate attempt to get Jihoon to do something feels more than just a little good.

 

 

“C’mon old man!” Sanghyeok whines, frustration evident in his voice. It’s not enough, having just one unmoving finger inside of him. It’s not even close to enough. “Just do it already. You want to. Do it. Please.”

 

 

Later he’ll hate himself for how needy and desperate he sounds but right now Sanghyeok can’t help it, the words come on their own. This is what Jihoon does to him.

 

 

“That’s still hyung for you, you brat.” Jihoon says, feeling Sanghyeok trying to rut against him, to get some friction on his cock, probably more subconsciously than on purpose.

 

 

“Maybe I should punish you. Teach you some respect” At the last word he withdraws his finger completely, causing Sanghyeok to whine instantly at the sudden emptiness. He lifts an eyebrow at the younger boy who just stares at him with wild eyes. “Ah- no. Oppa please!” he moans as Jihoon pinches one of nipples.

 

 

“What did I say?” Jihoon hisses twisting the erect nub hard between his fingers, drawing another cry from the boy in his lap.

 

 

Sanghyeok presses a sloppy kiss to his jaw but doesn’t say anything, ignoring Jihoon’s words so the older boy has no choice but to yank at his hair roughly forcing his head back so they can look each other in the face.

 

 

“You bitch.” He says savoring the way Sanghyeok struggles to meet his eyes. Jihoon lets his fingers wander down from his nipple to the medal then. The metal is warmer now but still feels cold in comparison to Sanghyeok’s hot flushed skin. Sanghyeok’s legs tighten around his waist as Jihoon brings the medal to Sanghyeok’s already sensitive nipple, teasing it by flicking the slim edge over it, drawing delicious moans from Sanghyeok, making him squirm in his lap.

 

 

“Try again, whore.” Jihoon whispers into his ear “What should you call me?”

 

 

There is a mischievous glint in Sanghyeok’s eyes before he leans back so they can look at each other properly before saying “Oppa” stretching the word, knowing full well what it does to Jihoon.

 

 

The sound of Jihoon slapping Sanghyeok across the face with the back of his hand echoes through the room but Jihoon doesn’t hear it over his own blood rushing through his ears as Sanghyeok crashes their lips together into a wet and heated kiss.

 

 

He spins them around then, throwing Sanghyeok on the bed so he lies there in front of Jihoon, on his back, spread out with a small smile on his lips.

 

 

“You don’t even know what you do to me.” Jihoon mumbles while Sanghyeok compliantly lifts his hips so Jihoon can pull the panties off of him.

 

 

Sanghyeok instantly misses the way the incredibly soft fabric felt against his skin, the way it always makes him feel small and pretty in such a shameful way. But then again, taking them off means Jihoon will touch him and god, that is even better. He’s so hard, has been feeling on edge all night ever since they hung this goddamn medal around his neck but now, now it’s just the two of them, finally, and Jihoon is looking at him with that glance in his eyes.

 

 

He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Jihoon hasn’t given him any instructions and he is at the point where he needs them, so he just fumbles at the blue ribbon around his neck while Jihoon not so gently spreads his legs and thrust two fingers inside him, again without a warning.

 

 

Jihoon hasn’t bothered to apply more than the absolute minimum of lube so it burns, makes Sanghyeok cry out in surprise and pain again.

 

 

“Hey.” Jihoon says sharply and it’s only then Sanghyeok realizes he’s been trying to close his legs on instinct, his body trying to protect itself from the intrusion. Sanghyeok hurries to quickly get a grip on his own thighs, to keep them open for Jihoon. It still hurts when presses his fingers back into Sanghyeok’s tight heat but he presses back onto them nevertheless, he needs this too much not to.

 

 

Jihoon sucks and bites marks into the soft skin of Sanghyeok’s quivering thighs, marks only the two of them will know are there. It makes him let out another moan, a moan that turns into a whine as Jihoon crooks his fingers just right, brushing over Sanghyeok’s sweet spot deep inside him.

 

 

He doesn’t give him time to recover but hits it again and again with his fingers, making Sanghyeok twist and squirm, trying so hard not to break position, hands fisted into the white sheets. It’s the mix of intense pleasure and pain that makes Sanghyeok’s back arch, makes another sob escape his lips.

 

 

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

 

 

“You should be grateful.” Jihoon murmurs licking a wet stripe from Sanghyeok’s crotch to his navel, licking off the precome that dripped there but not paying any attention the leaking hard cock. “I should have just left you like this, just walked out right that door there, leaving you laying here just a little bitch, desperate for a cock, for anything, inside of you.”

 

 

He adds a third finger then, stretching Sanghyeok even further. “But I’m not going to do that.” Jihoon coos brushing a sweaty strand of hair from Sanghyeok’s forehead with his free hand. “Consider this your congratulation gift, world champion.” He emphasizes the last two words with sharp thrusts, attacking the younger boy’s prostate repeatedly.

 

 

Sanghyeok is full on sobbing now; clawing his fingernails into Jihoon’s back, leaving marks of his own. “You too.” He gets when he manages to catch his breath between sparks of pleasure coursing through his body “You are world champion too.”

 

 

“Shut your mouth.” Jihoon hisses a strange kind of tone in his voice but Sanghyeok mind feels to hazy for him to even try to decrypt it. Jihoon fingerfucks him so good, touching him deep inside, it makes Sanghyeok feel like there is fire in his veins. It’s like every inch of his body is raw and sensitive because Jihoon knows his body so well, knows exactly what to do and how to do it. It’s almost scary.

 

 

He thought about it now and then, mulled it over in his head, going out and getting this, getting what he needs from someone else, some stranger so he doesn’t have to keep involving Jihoon in this thing, this fucked up mess he brought over the two of them. But the truth is Sanghyeok is too selfish and a too scared to do that. And it’s hard to imagine that anyone could do this half as good for him than Jihoon. Jihoon, who has three fingers buried deep inside him, who is leaving marks all over his torso that’ll make Sanghyeok think of this night with every move for the next week.

 

 

“That’s enough.” Jihoon suddenly says causing Sanghyeok’s eyes to flutter back open again, looking more than a little disoriented.

 

 

Jihoon himself is panting, has his forehead pressed against the collarbone of the boy beneath him. “That’s enough. I’m going to fuck you. Hands and knees. Now.”

 

 

It doesn’t matter that he sounds almost as breathless as Sanghyeok feels, it’s still a command. As soon as Jihoon withdraws his fingers Sanghyeok clumsily tries to get into position as quickly as he can with his trembling limbs.

 

 

It looks obscene, the almighty league god “Faker” on his knees, ass in the air, his cheek pressed into the mattress, fingers clenched into the bedsheets so hard his knuckles are turning white. The medal is still in place. The younger boy’s eyes are fixed on Jihoon who is still sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his sweet time, allowing his gaze to roam over Sanghyeok’s body, take it all in.

 

 

“C’mon!” Sanghyeok whines eventually. He’s impatient, he doesn’t get why Jihoon is just sitting there, not doing anything when he could already be fucking him into the mattress by now. He said now. He said he’d fuck him. It’s so frustrating, his whole body is aching with anticipation, he has to bite his lip to stop more words from tumbling out. It stings deliciously and the faint metallic taste of blood makes it even better. “Ji-----“

 

 

“What do you want?” Jihoon asks, finally moving to spread Sanghyeok’s cheeks, looking at the quivering lube slick hole. Looking but not touching. It drives Sanghyeok insane. “Tell me what you want.” Then after a pause that feels like hours he adds “Beg.”

 

 

Sanghyeok shudders, whining with frustration and presses his face into the soft pillow.

 

 

“Just do it, darling. I already know it. You just have to say it. Say it. Beg me and I’ll do it. It’s that easy.” Sanghyeok can’t see the way Jihoon smirks but he sure as hell feels it when Jihoon’s tongue darts out licking over the fluttering hole. It draws the most delicious moan from Sanghyeok, only muffled by the pillow.

 

 

“Fuck me.” Sanghyeok whimpers, his eyes pressed shut. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, please. I need it.”

 

 

“Why?” Jihoon asks “Why do you need it?” He’s talking calm and slowly, like he is conversing with a child.

 

 

“No. Ji- I can’t please…“ Sanghyeok whimpers and shakes his head.

 

 

“Look at me.” The older boy commands “look at me, Sanghyeok.” His voice is stern again as he digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of Sanghyeok’s thigh.

 

 

It’s this sharp jolt of sudden pain that makes it possible for Sanghyeok to turn his head again to find Jihoon’s dark eyes.

 

 

“It’s alright, you know? You just have to say it. Say it out loud.” Jihoon says almost softly.

 

 

Sanghyeok licks his quivering lips, trying his best to blink the tears away. “Because I’m a whore.” He whispers, as much as whispering is possible with his shaking voice, “I’m a dirty slut. I’m your whore. I need it. I want it. I want I want- I want everything. I’m a greedy dirty slut. I want- I need- I-“ h can’t talk anymore, the words are blurry in his head because while he was talking Jihoon had positioned himself behind him suddenly pushing all the way in making Sanghyeok cut himself off by crying out.

 

 

“That’s right. You are a selfish bitch. That’s what you are, that’s all you are.”

 

 

Sanghyeok arches his back, his toes curling. It feels so good, hurts so good. Finally Jihoon is inside him, splitting him open with his cock.

 

 

Jihoon hits his prostate again, unrelenting, causing strangled sobs to fall from Sanghyeok’s lips. His own erection is throbbing need, precome dripping from the tip onto the already messy sheets. Suddenly Jihoon’s fingers are back in his sweaty hair, gripping it roughly to pull him up.

 

 

It hurts, but the pain makes his cock twitch with even arousal. He feels like Jihoon has been keeping him on edge for hours and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to take this, how much further Jihoon will push him.

 

 

They are in a somewhat upright position now, Sanghyeok’s back pressed against Jihoon’s chest, the other’s cock still deep inside of him. It should be impossible but it feels like due to the new angle from the shift of positions Jihoon reaches him even deeper, even better.

 

 

His thighs are trembling and he needs something to hold onto, to ground him somehow or he’s going to lose his mind, so one hand finds Jihoon’s that is pressed against his quivering abdomen to hold him upright.

 

 

Jihoon doesn’t let go of his hair, the pull forcing more tears to come. He would feel sorry if he didn’t know this is exactly what the younger boy wants.

 

 

He licks the exposed skin of Sanghyeok’s throat, over purple bruises that will form there underneath the pale skin soon enough. Jihoon is thrusting up into him, hitting his sweet spot every time, his hand still in his hair, he can’t explain it, doesn’t even dare to think about it too much, but taking Sanghyeok like this reducing him to this beautiful mess, it does something to him. It gives him more than a rush, makes him feel like he’s on top of the world, but also so out of control it’s frightening. He doesn’t recognize this person, who kisses with teeth and enjoys the taste of tears on the cheeks of another boy. Sanghyeok’s tight heat around him, his shaky hands holding onto him, it’s maddening.

 

 

Jihoon knows Sanghyeok is almost at his limit and so is he. He’s nibbling on Sanghyeok’s earlobe. “You want to come?” he gives the other’s hair a yank for emphasizes.

 

 

Sanghyeok’s free hand shoots up but halts just before he would reach Jihoon’s hand. He doesn’t dare to try to stop Jihoon, doesn’t really know if he wants to. He only knows that Yes, yes he wants to come, desperately so. But he can’t say it, it’s like there are no more words left in the world, or at least in his brain. So Sanghyeok tries to nod but Jihoon either doesn’t see it or he just chooses to ignore it. It’s latter most probably.

 

 

“C’mon.” Jihoon pants “Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours. “ He presses a kiss on Sanghyeok’s neck that could almost be described as tender and oh Sanghyeok wants to, really wants to answer be a good boy for Jihoon but all that comes out of his mouth is just another strangled sob and a barely there “please.”

 

 

Every muscle in his body feels sore and without Jihoon’s hands holding him in place he wouldn’t be able to stay upright. Jihoon chuckles, delivering a particularly hard thrust that makes Sanghyeok almost fall over.

 

 

“You know, you look so gorgeously filthy tonight, I wish…” he halts for a split second, his hand wandering upwards to give Sanghyeok’s right nipple a sudden pinch. “…I wish we had brought your collar.”

 

 

A high pitched moan is all he gets as a response, paired with Sanghyeok rolling his hips desperately, trying to get Jihoon to move again.

 

 

“Such a shame.” Jihoon mumbles, his hand slipping down from the younger boy’s hair to his throat to gently caress the soft skin, not pressing down, his touch barely there but he can feel Sanghyeok’s pulse hammering. Maybe it’s just his imagination but he likes to think it’s not.

 

 

“Don’t you agree?” there is still no answer and it makes Jihoon regret their position a little because he can’t properly see Sanghyeok’s face like this. It’s probably flushed and tear stained, eyes dark and clouded with the sweet mix of lust and desperation.

 

 

“Sanghyeok!” Jihoon commands just as he pushes him forward with a sudden shove. The other barely managing to get his elbows in place in time so his face doesn’t hit the mattress.

 

 

“Yes.” Sanghyeok whispers his voice hoarse and broken. Jihoon is still not moving, why is he not moving? His insides are liquid fire and he feels hot and cold all over at the same time. He wants to beg, beg Jihoon to just do it, to make him come, to give him what he needs but he can’t because now Jihoon is talking again in that low voice with that subtle tone he got reserved for when it’s just the two of them.

 

 

“Good thing we have this then.” Jihoon says and tugs at the ribbon of the medal lightly.

 

 

Sanghyeok doesn’t react, doesn’t seem to get it, and that makes it even better when he wraps the cord around his fist a few times so it sits snug around the younger boy’s throat and starts to pull. He pulls Sanghyeok up like this again, so his sweaty back is back against his own chest, simultaneously not allowing Sanghyeok any air.

 

 

All that Sanghyeok gets out is a strangled sound when Jihoon slightly loosens his grip, enough to let in some air but not enough for proper breathing. Jihoon had halted his movements until he was sure Sanghyeok wasn’t going to use the word and he didn’t, he just rolled his hips as well as he could in his current position urging Jihoon on to keep fucking him.

 

With Sanghyeok making such desperate noises in his lap he proceeds to mercilessly pound into the younger boy while still having a tight grip on the cord. It’s cutting into Sanghyeok’s throat, not breaking skin but sure as hell leaving some nasty bruises later.

 

 

No one else can do this, Jihoon knows. No one else is allowed to touch Sanghyeok like this. No one else gets to see him like this, gets to wreck him like this. If someone were to ask him how it started, this sick fucked up thing they have going on, he wouldn’t be able to tell, doesn’t have a real answer himself. It’s what they are now, that’s all he knows and right this second, when his cock is buried deep inside Sanghyeok he barely even remembers why he hates himself so much for it.

 

 

Sanghyeok’s hands are at his own throat now, scratching there, his mouth opening and closing, taking flat labored breaths, his air supply constricted by the tight cord around his throat, held by Jihoon. The older boy uses it to give himself leverage, forcing Sanghyeok to meet each of his thrusts with his hips.

 

 

Sanghyeok whines and whimpers one hand finding Jihoon’s on his hip. He intertwines their fingers, pulling the arm around himself. He needs Jihoon to hold him like this or he would fall, especially now with the black and purple dots dancing in his field of vision. If it’s possible it arouses him even more. He loves this so much, having Jihoon fuck him ruthlessly, untamed, like they are animals without any self-control. He guesses in a way they are. It’s such an amazing feeling; Sanghyeok can feel tears running down his cheeks.

 

 

Jihoon kisses the spot behind his ear that he knows Sanghyeok loves, all while continuing to choke him.

 

 

He wants to tell Jihoon, wants to interrupt the older boy’s grunts of pleasure to tell him how good this is, how much he needed it, but he can barely breathe, let alone speak. So all he gets out is a breathless whine somewhere between a cry and something else entirely. He knows there will be marks tomorrow he’ll have to hide somehow. Maybe makeup, maybe a turtleneck or a scarf. Knowing this makes it always an extra notch more exciting, seeing and feeling what they did days later, without anyone else having the slightest clue.

 

 

Sanghyeok’s vision gets blurry quickly and he knows it’s not just from the intense pleasure Jihoon abusing his sweet spot is giving him. It’s the lack of oxygen. His chest is rising and falling with more than just a little difficulty now. In a way, it makes everything he is feeling so much more intense.

 

 

He comes just as Jihoon let’s go of the medal cord. The sudden rush of air streaming into his aching chest is what kicks him over the edge causing waves of pleasure to crash inside him. His lungs are burning, screaming. It makes him feel like there are no more bones in his body and if it weren’t for Jihoon wrapping his strong arms around his torso Sanghyeok would have fallen over.

 

 

Jihoon is not done yet though, he keeps thrusting up into Sanghyeok who hands more or less limp in his lap, a bit like a doll. The way the corners of his mouth curl up into a small smile is the only indication of him still being conscious.

 

 

Jihoon can’t help but burry his face in the crook of Sanghyeok’s neck, spreading the come of the younger boy all over his abdomen with one hand. He is so close, so incredibly close, but he’s not there yet, not quite.

 

 

“That what you wanted?” he gets out through gritted teeth “Me fucking you until you forget your name? Me wrecking you? Yeah?”

 

 

Sanghyeok barely manages a nod, everything in his head is spinning, it’s too much. His whole body feels oversensitive like the smallest spark could turn his skin into ashes. His cock twitches painfully in a desperate attempt to get hard again but he can’t. His toe curl again, causing his feet to cramp slightly as white hot pleasure still surges through his system because Jihoon doesn’t give him a break, just keeps hammering into Sanghyeok’s prostate, seeking his own climax.

 

 

“Ji- please.” He whines even though he is not sure if he’s asking the older boy to stop or keep going. His mind is all hazy and he feels dizzy like Jihoon is still choking him. But he is not. The medal hangs loosely around his neck, angling innocently against his come stained body.

 

 

Jihoon’s thrusts get erratic eventually until he finally comes deep inside Sanghyeok, his teeth buried in the boy’s shoulder to muffle his own scream.

 

 

They topple over, Jihoon too overcome with his own release to keep them upright any longer. His breath goes quick and feverish and he can feel his own heart pounding like crazy and for a split second he wonders if Sanghyeok can feel it against his back.

 

 

Eventually he groans and presses a quick kiss to the nape of Sanghyeok’s neck and then pulls out. Sanghyeok remains unmoving for a few moments before ultimately rolling over onto his back so Jihoon can look at him properly can look at the mess he made out of him. there are already bruises forming all over his torso, visible on the flushed skin just as much as the bloody scratches are underneath the come splattered all over him.

 

 

Sanghyeok looks at him quietly, traces of tears still present on his face it makes Jihoon smile affectionately. “You cried so much.” He states brushing his fingertips along Sanghyeok’s thigh. “Was it that good?”

 

 

Sanghyeok doesn’t reply, just nods quietly and hides his face behind his slender forearms. And that’s enough for Jihoon. He is used to it, Sanghyeok getting so quiet, after they do it like this. It goes hand in hand with each other.

 

 

Jihoon nudges Sanghyeok’s knee with his hand and the younger boy understands, instantly spreads his aching legs as well as he can in his current state.

 

 

His hole is red and swollen, twitching, still adjusting to the new found emptiness without Jihoon’s cock stretching it open. There is a dribble of come leaking out of it and Jihoon can’t stop himself from reaching forward and dipping his fingers into it.

 

 

Sanghyeok jumps at that, having to grab the backs of his knees to stay open for Jihoon. He must be sore and it must hurt but Sanghyeok doesn’t protest when Jihoon slowly pushes the come back into the fluttering opening just to watch it trickle out again. It’s a little hypnotizing.

 

 

“I’ll clean you up.” He finally says before getting up in order to walk to the bathroom to get some wet wash cloths “I’ll be right back.”

 

 

It’s important, he noticed, for Sanghyeok to know what is happening around him, where Jihoon is going and what he is doing when he gets like this, when he got Jihoon to push him this far. Otherwise he panics and that’s not the point of this whole thing, not what Jihoon wants.

 

***

 

Sanghyeok always falls asleep quickly due to being exhausted and this time it’s not different. His head is resting on Jihoon’s chest, his small hands loosely fisted into the older boy’s t-shirt. His long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks and sleeping like this, he almost looks innocent, almost looks like a child. It makes Jihoon feel a little sick so he wraps his arms a little tighter around him, burying his nose in Sanghyeok’s soft hair.

 

 

The medal lies on the nightstand, glistening a little bit in the pale moon light that makes it through the half closed curtains. It all seems so peaceful it makes the lump in his throat grow a little bigger.

 

 

This is it.

 

 

He lets out a shaky breath, fixing his eyes on the white ceiling above him.

 

 

“I’m leaving.” He says and he almost chokes on the words. It’s the first time he said them out loud outside of his own mind. He thought about it a lot and he knew he would leave for some time now but saying it, actually saying it, hearing it in his own voice even though no one else is listening makes it painfully real all of sudden.

 

 

He is going to leave. He’s going to leave the team that has been his home for the last two years. His family.

 

 

He is going to leave Sanghyeok.