It was the gel they always used.
Tae-oh looked down at Chi-yu as he flipped the cap and squeezed a thick line of gel onto his palm. Then, bending forward again to claim Chi-yu’s lips, he reached down with his slickened hand and rubbed between his cheeks.
His gel-smeared fingers pressed firmly against the entrance, signaling the beginning. He always started like this—stretching him with his fingers first. Once, driven half-mad by the teasing ache, Chi-yu had begged him to just put it in already.
But Tae-oh had refused, insisting that without loosening him first, it would hurt too much. Wrapping his legs around Tae-oh’s waist to provoke him, Chi-yu tempted him until Tae-oh gave in and shoved himself inside. That day, Chi-yu experienced pain so sharp he thought he couldn’t breathe.
His whole body had shuddered violently, and no air would pass through his nose. Only when Tae-oh sealed his mouth over his and breathed for him like artificial respiration did air finally return. That was how excruciating it had been.
From then on, no matter how consumed by desire, Tae-oh never skipped the step of stretching him open—and eventually, Chi-yu even came to savor the desperate anticipation of it.
Once those careful fingers slipped free, Tae-oh’s thick cock pressed into their place. The blunt head pushed forward, prying apart the trembling entrance, and a breathless moan escaped Chi-yu’s lips.
“Haa… ngh, ah—”
Slowly, but with relentless force, he drove deeper until Chi-yu felt completely filled. When Tae-oh’s balls pressed against him, he knew he was in to the hilt. His body twitched instinctively.
As always, Tae-oh paused there, fully sheathed, while his hands roamed Chi-yu’s body, leaving kisses everywhere. At first, Chi-yu thought this stillness was just him holding back climax. But one day Tae-oh explained.
He said that when he thrust deep enough for his balls to press flush against Chi-yu, it made him feel like their bodies were perfectly joined, seamless and inseparable. That this locked, immovable closeness was what he loved most.
Chi-yu understood. He, too, loved the feeling of Tae-oh filling him completely even more than the act itself.
Perhaps this was what sex between them really was: a release born from their relentless hunger for each other. Of course, raw lust still lay at the core, steering it all.
After kissing and tasting every inch of him, Tae-oh finally began to move. His cock dragged against the walls as he pulled out, delivering an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure with each thrust.
It was always that way—his thrusts carried both agony and bliss. Each time the swollen head struck deep inside, fireworks burst behind Chi-yu’s eyes and a sharp ache rattled through his jaw.
Pain and pleasure. From start to finish, he was never sure which prevailed.
Yet Chi-yu knew: Tae-oh always managed to tip the balance toward pleasure. Whenever the pain made him tremble, Tae-oh’s lips and tongue teased his ears and neck until ecstasy drowned out the ache.
When his tongue slipped into Chi-yu’s ear and swirled, every nerve in his body went wild, and Tae-oh’s thrusts grew faster. The moment his cock angled just right to strike that hidden spot, the pain trembling his jaw dissolved into nothing.
Only the flood of pleasure remained, consuming him whole. Perhaps it was true—pain could never win against pleasure.
“Ahhh—ngh, ahh, hhh…”
The faster Tae-oh moved, the louder Chi-yu cried out. The relentless pounding blurred his vision until he no longer knew up from down.
Every thrust forced ragged breaths of agony from his chest. Looking down at him, Tae-oh kept his rhythm steady, watching as Chi-yu spilled moans again and again.
Smack, smack—the sound of flesh against flesh filled the room, mixing with Chi-yu’s lewd cries and Tae-oh’s rough breaths, winding their arousal tighter.
Throwing his arms around the neck of the lover who had dyed his hair yellow just because Chi-yu once said he wanted everything in that color, Chi-yu finally let out a sharp, piercing cry, overcome by unbearable pleasure.
***
He had lost count of how many times Tae-oh had taken him. It had started in the late afternoon, when Tae-oh—now blond—first climbed over him. Now, after the black of night, dawn’s pale blue was creeping across the sky.
Tae-oh had come inside him over and over, never once allowing him to rest. For some reason, with blond hair, Hyun Tae-oh was even more relentless than usual.
Clutching Chi-yu’s waist from behind as he gasped for air, Tae-oh’s own breathing had turned ragged as he pushed back in. After an entire night together, he should have been exhausted, but he showed no sign of slowing.
Was it deliberate? He would pull out slow, then slam back in hard and fast.
Chi-yu no longer had the strength to moan. His face buried in the sheets, he panted shallowly. His walls, now molded perfectly to Tae-oh’s size, yielded easily to every thrust.
Behind him, Tae-oh pounded relentlessly, his mouth roaming Chi-yu’s neck and back, sucking and biting.
By now, it should have been overwhelming. But the way Hyun Tae-oh’s cock filled him felt too good, and Chi-yu never once told him to stop.
His nipples, swollen and stung from endless sucking, burned even at a brush of his hand. His own cock had long since given up, unable to rise again. Yet still, he couldn’t push Tae-oh away.
Maybe this was what it meant to be perfectly matched.
***
Even after that, Tae-oh spilled inside him several more times. At last, the endless coupling ended, and dawn fully broke.
Chi-yu’s body was so drained he couldn’t even move his eyes. Yet Tae-oh simply lifted him up and carried him into the bathroom.
How he still brimmed with energy after moving so much more, after coming so many more times, Chi-yu couldn’t understand. Maybe this was what it meant to have the stamina of an SS-rank Esper.
That stray thought drifted through his head as Tae-oh carefully washed his limp body. He kissed him repeatedly while scrubbing him down, as if the night hadn’t been enough, even kneading his chest and cock idly.
Chi-yu had no strength left to protest. He only blinked slowly, and each time his eyes fluttered, Tae-oh pressed a kiss to them.
That was the last thought before everything went dark.
He closed his eyes at the brush of lips on his lids and slipped straight into sleep.
Just before losing consciousness, he thought he felt Tae-oh’s arms lifting him again. But when he awoke, the sky outside was already black.
Tae-oh must have fallen asleep beside him.
Chi-yu studied his sleeping face. He looked more beautiful like this, maybe because the usual sharpness and habitual frown between his brows had softened away.
With his hair dyed golden, he looked years younger.
Chi-yu slowly lifted his hand, his bones aching with the effort, but he stifled the groan. Carefully, he stroked Tae-oh’s hair.
Fingers tangled in the soft yellow strands, he felt a satisfaction too deep for words. As if every part of Hyun Tae-oh belonged solely to him.
Yellow had always been his favorite color, but the reason it became special was because of Hyun Tae-oh.
On the day they first met, Tae-oh had worn a yellow sweatshirt with a bit of a white undershirt peeking out.
At only eight years old, Chi-yu had never seen anyone so beautiful before. That color, on that face, had struck him as fresh, warm, alive.
He doubted Tae-oh would ever know—unless Chi-yu himself confessed someday— That yellow became his favorite color, to the point he wanted everything in it, all because of him.
Still stroking Tae-oh’s golden hair, Chi-yu blinked heavily a few times.
He wondered vaguely if Catdog and Hayangi were in the living room. Then his eyes slid shut again.
Tae-oh’s steady breathing became a lullaby, pulling him back into sleep.
