piece of trash ™

“Fuck!”

Hyunwoo grips the man’s red hair, almost shuddering when Dream Boy makes a throaty noise around his cock. His tongue is fantastic, licking and sucking with shameless determination.

The gag reflex Dream Boy possesses is nearly comical; he can only take half of Hyunwoo’s length before struggling, slowing down to concentrate his movements before drawing back and collecting himself. Dream Boy keeps going back in for more, sucking Hyunwoo off like it’s everything he wants to do in life.

He encourages this man, through tugs at his scalp and gentle words: “You’re doing so well, just like that.” And there’s a name at the edge of Hyunwoo’s lips and brain--a word Hyunwoo would kill to know, one he itches to say.

This is a dream. He knows this is a dream because it always is. But Hyunwoo can’t stop himself from getting lost in pleasure and intimacy, enjoying every moment of being tangled up with someone he doesn’t know. There’s this connection Hyunwoo can’t ignore, as if this mysterious man is his lover and all Hyunwoo wants to do is be close to him. Dream Boy can drive him crazy, can make him unbearably hard and twist his stomach in wonderful knots like Hyunwoo has never experienced.

Maybe that’s the sad part: real life never feels this good.

Dream Boy, lips wet and eyes hazy, pulls his mouth off of Hyunwoo’s cock with a sinful sound. “You’re gonna leave me like this?” Hyunwoo can’t help but tease him (the man sometimes gets shy when he does; it’s adorable).

“Of course not, the fun’s just starting,” he replies through flushed cheeks. He’s stunning. And when he presses against Hyunwoo like this—so their chests and hips brush and Dream Boy’s perfect face is right next to his—the redhead whispers lowly, “I won’t let you come until you’re inside me.”

That sets Hyunwoo off—it’s a challenge, a frenzied rush to flip Dream Boy over until he’s completely available to Hyunwoo’s attention. He starts by leaving kisses on the insides of Dream Boy’s lean thighs, kisses that turn into bites that turn into bruises and Dream Boy is wrenching the sheets with his fingers. The moans falling from his lips are like music, and his legs spread so nicely for Hyunwoo. Trailing a path up the man’s thigh, Hyunwoo delights in how sensitive his skin is, how he can’t keep still under Hyunwoo’s mouth. Dream Boy’s hips jerk and all he can whisper is, “Please. Please.” And it’s that ‘Please,’ drowned in heavy breaths, that rings in Hyunwoo’s head over and over and over until his eyes open.

  The first thing Kihyun says when he sees Hyunwoo that morning is, “Wow, you look like shit.”

It’s true, of course, and Hyunwoo hadn’t expected Kihyun to sugarcoat his appearance. “Thanks.”

“Rough night?” His co-worker asks, a hint of implication in his tone.

“Yes, but not how you’re thinking.”

Kihyun makes an unamused noise, then leans against Hyunwoo’s desk like he has a secret to tell: “You just need to get laid.”

So early in the morning and Hyunwoo can already feel his headache form. But a well-hidden part of Hyunwoo can’t help agreeing to some extent. Don’t I ever.

  At night, Hyunwoo tries staying awake. Tries to distract himself, as if less sleep would prevent the dreams. He watches movies, plays mindless mobile games—anything but sleeping.

It’s mortifying. He hasn’t had a wet dream since his mid-teenage years and then all at once, it’s the only type of dream he can have. Every single night for an entire blue-balled month.

Dreaming about anonymous, made-up strangers is one thing, but Hyunwoo’s dreams are on a completely different level. The star of each dream is the same person: a man, around his age, with a lean body and sharp features. Hyunwoo has never met this man before—he’d surely remember if he had, because the man is so incredibly gorgeous. The kind of beauty that sticks with Hyunwoo, burns into his eyelids long after he’s woken up. Nothing about the man’s features is fuzzy, either; if Hyunwoo were a better artist, he’d draw an exact image of Dream Boy’s face.

The most striking part is how real the dreams are. He can feel the man’s skin on his own, can hear his rough voice as if it were right in his ear. And when Hyunwoo wakes up, his own lips have the ghosts of kisses on them, and Hyunwoo’s breath is always a lustful kind of heavy.

During the day, he tries to push all thoughts of Dream Boy aside so he doesn’t become too excited. His roommate Hoseok has caught on by now that something is messing up Hyunwoo’s sleeping pattern, and still, Hyunwoo denies anything out of the ordinary. He’s an insomniac at this point, but admitting to his nightly fantasies would destroy Hyunwoo’s sense of dignity. Oddly enough, the dreams have evolved into something he secretly looks forward to—an exciting getaway from his lonely lifestyle.

Night after night, his tired body wins and sleep controls him.

  The man’s lips are warm on his, soft like they always are. Hyunwoo could kiss him forever, teasing his mouth open for something hotter, messier. Addicting.

For Dream Boy, the kisses are a distraction. He’s tense, sighing against Hyunwoo’s lips as two fingers curl inside him. And Hyunwoo does everything he can to keep the man calm, moving down to drag his mouth across Dream Boy’s throat. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he throws his head back, spreads his legs wider so the slide of Hyunwoo’s fingers is easier, “That feels good. Keep going.”

So needy. This man never gets enough, fully knowing Hyunwoo will give him anything he asks. His fingers carefully work open Dream Boy’s entrance; Hyunwoo has done this so many times to him that it’s muscle memory. He knows exactly where to push so Dream Boy is a writhing mess beneath him. He knows this body so well and doesn’t even know the name it belongs to.

Hyunwoo tries to squeeze in a third finger gently, but Dream Boy is as impatient as ever: “Please, don’t make me wait. I want you now.” Hyunwoo remembers one dream, the rare vision of a pillowtalk, where the man said it’s better like that. When he’s almost-too-tight and Hyunwoo’s cock is what fully stretches him out. Slim hands run up and down Hyunwoo’s chest, overriding all his thoughts.

In the end, this man always gets his way.

“On your stomach,” Hyunwoo pulls his fingers out of Dream Boy and helps him turn over, his elbows making craters in the mattress. Of course Dream Boy obeys; this is his favorite position and Hyunwoo knows it.

Slowly, Hyunwoo enters Dream Boy, and his mind becomes fuzzy at the tight heat. Dream Boy’s small whimpers even out into long moans, muffled by the mattress beneath him. As he adjusts to Hyunwoo’s length, Hyunwoo fits his palms over Dream Boy’s thighs and sets a rhythm, rocking in and out. Every thrust feels like the world comes together a bit—this has to be a dream because nothing on Earth could be so wonderful. No one so perfect could exist.

One thrust has Dream Boy keening and letting out rough cries, telling Hyunwoo he’s found that sweet spot inside him. “Yes, there!” The man’s fingers curl into the sheets, “There! H—Hyun—ah!”

Hyunwoo’s heart stops for the tiniest moment as he’s suddenly overcome with emotion. His arms wind around Dream Boy’s slim waist and he bends down to press kisses into his lover’s back. Had he imagined it—that beautiful voice, trying to choke out his name? Hyunwoo can sense something new when he’s so close to this man. “Beautiful,” he breathes it into pale skin, “M—” So close, so close to having this man’s name wrapped around his tongue, “Min—”

  It’s over. Hyunwoo opens his eyes and knows he’s back to reality because there’s no beautiful man in his bed. No—Hyunwoo is alone, and disappointed, and with an embarrassing case of morning wood.

He takes a deep breath, trying to push images of Dream Boy away from his mind. He shouldn’t get so worked up over something that isn’t real. Hyunwoo considers himself a rational man, but when it comes to these dreams, it’s like he doesn’t want to face reality. For sex dreams, they’re oddly romantic. Maybe that’s why they affect him this much.

Sluggishly, Hyunwoo drags himself out of bed and heads to the bathroom. It won’t take long to come at this point; he’ll just get it out of the way and forget about Dream Boy for the rest of his day.

“Hey, man, want some coffee?”

Apparently the universe has other plans for Hyunwoo—Hoseok pops his head around the corner with a bright smile, and Hyunwoo instinctively grabs the nearest item—a towel—to hide his erection. “Uh, sure. I’ll drink it after I shower real quick.” A cold shower, he adds mentally. Hyunwoo hadn’t been planning on one, but glancing at the towel draped over his arm, a shower doesn’t sound bad. Might clear his mind, even.

“Sure thing,” Hoseok grins, and Hyunwoo tries to make an exit then, but nothing is that easy when living with Hoseok. “Hey, you got up pretty late today. Have you been sleeping okay?”

Hyunwoo tries out his least bothered expression. “I’m fine. Just some weird dreams lately.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Hyunwoo knows he shouldn’t have said anything. Because Hoseok’s grin turns rotten and his eyebrows raise in implication— “Weird as in sexy?”

One reach behind him would have Hyunwoo opening the bathroom door. So close to freedom, and yet, cornered. After a long pause, Hyunwoo answers, “A little bit.”

“See, what do I keep telling you? You should get on the dating scene.” Hyunwoo remembers Kihyun’s comment of, ‘Just get laid,’; of course Hoseok would have a softer read on the situation.

“Don’t worry about me.” It’s the nicest way of saying, ‘I’m not interested in a relationship.’ Because even though he denies it, Hyunwoo is hooked on deep eyes, confident smiles, a warm voice. Nobody can match Dream Boy.

Hyunwoo does take a cold shower in the end, and stares blankly into his coffee afterward. He’s so tired. It was another sleepless night for Hyunwoo, and not the kind he wants to be having.

Hoseok seems to find Hyunwoo’s empty attitude amusing. “You’d better perk up a bit by tomorrow,” he says, “Hyungwon from 414 told me we’re getting a new neighbor.”

“Tomorrow?”

His roommate nods, “And I’m going to attempt to bake cookies. Like a friendly gesture, you know? If they turn out awful, you can eat them.”

Maybe this will be good. Maybe he and the new neighbor will hit it off and their new friendship will somehow distract Hyunwoo from dreaming like a fifteen-year-old.

But Hyunwoo doesn’t have to wait long for a taste of freedom: That night is the first night in one month that Hyunwoo dreams of nothing. No body pressed against his, no lingering frustration in the morning. Just nothing.

He decides freedom tastes empty.

 Hoseok tries his best to salvage the plate of cookies, even arranging them in a nice pattern for the new neighbor. But that doesn’t change how lumpy they look, or how some have no chocolate chips while some have a dozen.

“I accidentally added a half tablespoon of salt instead of a half teaspoon,” Hoseok sighs, “Do you think he’ll notice?”

From a small stack of reject cookies, Hyunwoo breaks a chunk off and eats it. “He’ll notice.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Hoseok tells himself, “I can always say you made them. It’s too late to go buy some. This is why I don’t cook.” His expression is one of deep disappointment, so much that Hyunwoo almost regrets not helping Hoseok bake. “Anyway, I’ll be back in like an hour; I have some quick errands to run. Hyungwon from 414 has been spying all morning and he says the guy’s almost moved in. He’s 417. So if New Neighbor stops by while I’m out, don’t forget to give him the cookies!”

Hyunwoo almost forgets Hoseok’s request until thirty minutes later when someone knocks on the door. Hyunwoo walks over, glances in the peephole—from what he can tell in the fish-eyed view, the visitor is a young man. Hyunwoo swings the door open and—

—He has to be dreaming.

Hyunwoo blinks once, and again, but no amount of blinking will change the view in front of him: Dream Boy, with actual clothes on, a cheery smile at his pink lips. Everything is identical: The dark red hair, the strong cheekbones, the way his eyes crinkle up at the edges. “Hi! I’m Lee Minhyuk,” That’s his voice. And his name; as soon as he says it, something snaps together in Hyunwoo’s head, “I just got all settled in so I thought I’d come say hi to…everyone…” Dream Boy—Minhyuk—trails off in confusion, smile dropping. “Haven’t we met before?”

Yes, Hyunwoo thinks, Every night I dream about fucking you. What a first impression that would make. Instead, he says, “It’s possible.” And instinctively, Hyunwoo goes to shake his hand. Minhyuk’s hands are always soft like this. And in that one handshake, Hyunwoo’s belief in destiny changes. “I’m Son Hyunwoo.”

“Son Hyunwoo,” Minhyuk repeats, and then a wild grin spreads across his face, “I’m very glad to meet you.”

They stare at each other for a long moment. Seeing this man out of the usual context is surreal; Hyunwoo wonders what it would be like to really touch him, really hold him. He can’t help the airy feeling in his stomach—Minhyuk is real.

But there’s a quiet voice growing in the back of Hyunwoo’s brain, one he can’t ignore. “Oh, that’s right,” Hyunwoo is still trying to calm his pulse and hopes it doesn’t show in his voice, “My roommate and I were going to deliver some cookies to you.” It was all Hoseok’s doing, but Hyunwoo will take credit even though the cookies are terrible and he doesn’t plan on actually giving them to Minhyuk. He gets distracted for a second, eyes lost on Minhyuk’s face. And it’s nice, how Minhyuk’s eyes dart over his features, too. Finally, Hyunwoo asks him: “So would you like to come inside?”

There’s hardly any hesitation when Minhyuk answers. Because he trusts Hyunwoo, trusts him when they’ve never truly met, but Hyunwoo knows they’ll meet again, hundreds of times in the day and the night.