Each time his body moved, the thin layer of muscle on his abdomen would tense, rising just enough to show the full length of the cock buried deep inside him. Park Woo-jun seized Lee Han-seo’s chin with one hand, pulling him closer. Twisting awkwardly at the waist, Han-seo barely had time to gasp before he crashed his lips into Woo-jun’s. The tangy sweetness of the lemonade he’d sipped just moments ago mixed sloppily between their tongues.
Even as he bit down on Woo-jun’s lower lip and sucked his tongue into his mouth, the relentless thrusting from below was overwhelming. Breathless to the point of pain, Han-seo leaned forward, desperately sucking in sharp, ragged breaths. It only lasted a few seconds. Woo-jun, still gripping his chin like he owned him, dragged his face in again. Their eyes locked—and in that split second:
“Ahh, uh, crazy… Yah, what if it gets even bigger in there?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
With a half-hearted apology, Park Woo-jun devoured his lips again. His firm thighs were trembling without pause, his flushed ass quivering like it had been slapped. The hands locked around Han-seo’s waist and jaw showed no intention of letting go.
“My waist hurts…” Han-seo whimpered. At last, they shifted positions—but Woo-jun didn’t pull out. The cock that had been inside him the whole time twisted along with them, dragging his insides along for the ride. The friction along his walls made Han-seo shudder. He threw his head back, trembling all over. It hadn’t been long since he came twice. There was nothing left to spill.
“Now that I think about it…”
“What now, ‘now that I think about it’?! You crazy bastard…”
To be fair, that ‘crazy bastard’ was probably meant in the most affectionate way. Probably.
“We’re already on the bed, but we still have our shoes on. That’s not right, is it, baby?”
Facing him directly, Woo-jun gently wiped the tears from his face with his thumb. Well, he wasn’t wrong… but why bring that up now? Han-seo, finally catching his breath, couldn’t tell what Woo-jun was trying to pull. Still wearing his black military boots, he simply dangled his feet and pushed him onward.
“What’s with the sudden pause? Aren’t we doing this?”
“We are. Just… don’t freak out.”
“What the hell—ahh!”
Before Han-seo could finish, Woo-jun scooped him up in his arms—cock still firmly buried inside. Gravity drove the already burdensome shaft even deeper into him.
“Woo-jun, uh… Woo-jun, I don’t like this. Ah, I hate this position…”
Had the tear-wiping just been a warm-up to make him cry harder? Han-seo clung to Woo-jun’s shoulders, buried his face in his neck, and broke down completely—not just shedding tears, but sobbing like a child. His tongue had stopped working entirely.
Every time his body rocked with Woo-jun’s movements, it felt like something inside him was being torn open, something that wasn’t meant to be touched. The stimulation tore through him. It was too deep. Whenever the thick glans struck that impossibly tight spot, his mind went blank. It was ridiculous, but for a moment he thought—what if it came out through his throat?
“Ugh, ah! Uh! Kugh, haah, ah…”
Han-seo’s cock, red and throbbing like it would explode at the slightest touch, glistened each time he moaned and convulsed. A thin sheen of fluid had started to coat the space between their bellies.
Woo-jun, biting down on the earlobe already marked with teeth, yanked his narrow hips forward again. Han-seo, twitching and whimpering, came for the third time without even crying out, curling his toes so tightly they cramped. The first load had been thicker—Woo-jun seemed oddly proud of the difference, sucking on the plump ear like it was ripe fruit.
The obscene tsup, tsup sounds of sucking filled the air, and Han-seo let out another groan, his eyes wet again. Woo-jun, still deeply lodged inside him, gripped his hips with both hands and pulled him closer, like he wanted to crush their bodies together. Bit by bit, his insides were being stirred. It was more than pleasure. It was too much—too overwhelming to name. At some point, Han-seo even forgot how to resist.
“Still, uh… Woo-jun, this feels weird. Uh…”
At last, with tears and snot dripping down his face, Han-seo begged, and Woo-jun finally laid him back down on the bed. But it was too soon to relax. The change in angle made the insertion feel less suffocating, gave him a brief moment to breathe—but only a moment. Woo-jun adjusted his stance, gripping the backs of Han-seo’s knees with both hands, and began thrusting like a beast.
“Ugh! Uh, ugh, kuh, uh…”
Woo-jun hadn’t even come once, while Han-seo had already climaxed three times. Still, his cock, pale just a second ago, was swelling again. As the movement rocked his body, Han-seo instinctively reached down and gripped his own cock. It wasn’t because he wanted to come again—he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. But in his hazy, overstimulated state, he didn’t even think about what that gesture might mean to Woo-jun.
“Kuh, kuh… can’t you just hurry up? Ugh… I’m too, too tired…”
Every time Han-seo whined like that, Woo-jun had the urge to sink his teeth into him and devour him whole. But since he couldn’t do that, he did the next best thing—he reached out, wrapping both hands around Han-seo’s cock. Compared to Woo-jun’s, Han-seo’s was adorably small, and his two trembling hands were almost completely swallowed by that rough, broad grip. The soft, slick head kept brushing up against his calloused palm.
“Ugh, uh, ah, ah, ah!”
As Woo-jun pounded into him and his overly sensitive glans were mercilessly rubbed, the muscles inside Lee Han-seo’s thighs began to tremble ominously. A sensation unlike climax—more like the desperate need to pee—surged up dangerously to the base of his throat. Even though he had nothing left to release, Han-seo lost all sense of pride, throwing his head back repeatedly as he stammered, “I think—I think I’m gonna pee, baby… I really, I really think I’m gonna—ah! Ahh!”
“It’s fine. Just let it out.”
“Damn it… hngh, I’m not kidding right now, you crazy bastard—I’m seriously desperate!”
“You know it’s not piss, so why are you freaking out? It’s not like this is your first time cumming.”
His vision blurry, Han-seo groaned through clenched teeth, half-delirious, muttering things like, “this bastard,” and “that bastard,” trying to keep even a shred of rationality. But Woo-jun only responded casually, “Yeah, yeah, I’m right here. Fuck. I love you too,” and never stopped. Every thrust stole his breath and sent raw pleasure crashing through him.
By now, Han-seo’s guiding had long surpassed its threshold. It wasn’t being absorbed by Woo-jun anymore—just swirling freely in the air around them. He couldn’t even control it anymore.
“No, wait—wait a sec, baby, Woo-jun, no—it’s not working, it’s not—ahh!”
His palm grew hot, then soaked. The liquid streaming out was clear. That was the final push—Woo-jun leaned in, pressed his lips to Han-seo’s tear- and sweat-streaked face, and finally came.
It wasn’t the time to feel emotional, but the bizarre atmosphere made it feel almost like a honeymoon. Something about it felt absurdly romantic. Honestly, even if they were lying together in a grave, as long as it was with Lee Han-seo, Woo-jun could convince himself it was romantic. It wasn’t that far-fetched.
“Ah!”
“…What now?”
“You said to speak English in bed, baby! I totally forgot!”
“…Forget it. I feel gross—hurry up and clean yourself. And change the sheets while you’re at it.”
“Uh, but… what do we do now? Wanna go one more round?”
“Do you want to die?”
“No…”
“Then get your ass to the supply room.”
“Okay, okay…”
You need space to stretch your legs. Noticing the sharp look in Han-seo’s eyes, Woo-jun obediently stood up, gathered the clothes tossed across the floor, and started getting dressed. Still reluctant, he lingered at the entrance of the tent, turning to look back one last time. Han-seo shouted, “Aren’t you leaving?!” and Woo-jun, smirking, dashed back and threw himself onto the bed, landing squarely on top of Han-seo’s still-panting body.
“Ugh! Hey! What the hell?! Get off me!”
“I’ll be back soon, so don’t let anyone in, don’t get out of bed, and don’t even think about moving. Got it?”
“You crazy bastard… I can’t even stand right now. My legs are shaking.”
“Hehe. Good.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Woo-jun peppered Han-seo’s face with a flurry of kisses, planting them wherever his lips landed. And finally, he whispered the one thing that always made Han-seo fall apart. I love you.
This time, it was Han-seo’s turn to blush madly. No matter what anyone said, these two were hopelessly, helplessly addicted to each other.
