oh, yes. costume parties.

it wasn’t even halloween yet. it was literally september.

however, your campus was notorious for partying and even more so… that-one-really-well-known-frat-and-or-sorority that always did costume parties.

the week had just come to close, with friday night moving in fast, and your friends were already dragging you down the street. with what little time you had after your last class, you had done your best to freshen up and create your makeshift costume: supergirl.

truthfully, you didn’t even know the character that much—and in a way, you almost wanted to avoid something so cliché—but you just happened to find it on sale.

after buying a cheap bodysuit, you layered with “reporter” clothing: a button-up, a skirt, tie, some boots, and a camera hanging from your neck. plus, your glasses naturally added to the outfit.

it had depth, kept you comfortable, and felt recognizable enough if you pulled your shirt open; which, unfortunately, was the perfect gimmick for a frat house.

now you enjoyed socializing, of course, but still felt you needed the emotional support of a group to survive for hours on end. thankfully, your friends were exactly that, even if they told you to “lighten up” from time to time.

a hand waving in your face snapped you out of your thoughts. “hey- hello? we’re almost there.” your friend, dressed as a black cat, was trying to capture your focus again.

“sorry, yes,” you blinked, taking in the street around you. it was lined with houses of fellow frats and sororities, most of which were already crawling with people. it was freshly dark outside.

upon checking your phone, you grimaced. only 8:43 pm. this felt like a long night already.

you wandered after your group as they pushed inside, immediately hit with the congested air of a packed house. the amount of people filtering in astounded you, but you tried to ignore it in favor of finding a drink and having a good time.

when you bent down to find yourself something from a cooler, elated to find a seltzer, you nearly bodied someone as you stood again.

“oh shit- i’m sorry,” you quickly spoke, looking up. your hands naturally gravitated to their arms, trying to ensure they were steady. 

before you was a man in one of those cheap superhero costumes (like yourself), and with small smile, you realized, the flash.

his face was familiar, but you couldn’t place it in the dim light—eyes like a cat with shaggy black hair. then, it dawned on you as he spoke. 

“yeah, shit, should’ve saw that coming, hey?” it was taesan, a guy in your physics discussion.

“taesan?” you tried, your hands falling from him. “i think we have physics—”

“—heyy!!” suddenly another boy appeared, dressed as the green lantern. he had dark brown hair and a wild grin, slinging an arm around taesan’s shoulders. his weight nearly pushed the other boy over.

“ah, woonhak,” taesan scolded, pushing him aside.

another familiar face from class.

his attention fell back to you, and the three of you shuffled away from the drinks to make space for another wave of people.

“oh, i know you,” taesan nodded, leaning in slightly so you could hear him over the music and chatter. “this uh- this is woonhak, my friend, he…” 

the two of you looked towards woonhak, who loosely clung to taesan’s side, looking a bit worse for wear as he nursed a red solo cup. taesan rolled his eyes at the other boy, indifferent.

“ah, you guys usually come out to these?” you tried making conversation, relaxing on the wall next to you. 

taesan dove into a thought about having fun with his friends, but not entirely enjoying these things long-term. you nodded, attention on him, for sure—but you couldn’t miss how woonhak looked over at you from time to time.

he was looking all over the place, his energy muted after taesan had scolded him, but when taesan was focused on you, his eyes drifted back… and up, and down.

when a natural lull in the conversation formed, you moved to taesan, talking near his ear. “is woonhak… always like this?”

“like what?” taesan countered, pulling back only slightly to look at you. his eyes flicked over your coy, but shy expression.

“i don’t know, very obvious?” you trailed off, eyes flickering to woonhak, who pretended like he wasn’t curious about the two of you speaking. you were being very obvious right now, too.

taesan shifted, scratching the back of his neck. “he’s had two beers max, i’m so serious.”

you covered your mouth as you giggled, woonhak picking up on it and surging closer. “what? what is it?” you waved your hand dismissively, shooing him back.

“i think he’s been having a good time,” you grinned, noticing the way their eyes seemed to assess each other, and then you again. 

“correct!” he proclaimed, suddenly eyeing you. “hey, what’s even your costume?”

suddenly remembering you all matched, you went to excitedly unbutton the top of your shirt, before pulling it open and revealing the signature "S" on your chest. “ta-da! we’re matching!”

taesan smirked, while woonhak gave an excited shout. “yes! great minds think alike.” in his hyper state, he had grabbed onto taesan, shaking him a bit as he spoke. with wide eyes, you laughed at the gesture, fishing your phone out. “we have to take a picture together.”

woonhak quickly jumped into frame as you lifted your phone, taesan fitting in on the other side. when the angle was right, you snapped a few, grinning as woonhak joined you in doing various poses. “i’ll have to send you guys these,” you murmured.

“people will think we came together,” taesan chuckled, the three of you now floating towards a different area of the party. briefly, you leaned towards taesan, a small flutter of confidence in your chest. you kind of knew him, so you felt more comfortable pestering him now.

“hey,” you pulled on his arm slightly. “is he a good friend of yours?” it definitely seemed there was some sort of pull here, and well, who were you to ignore that? why not shoot your shot?

what you didn’t detect was taesan’s flinch, his gut coiling with something he couldn’t quite place yet. “what, am i your wingman now?” it came off a bit sharper than he intended.

“ah– no, i just,” your face warmed, feeling bashful. “i was just curious, i didn’t mean anything.” but you did, and taesan could pick up on it, of course. he wondered about your sudden interest in woonhak, but tried to brush it off. 

taesan just huffed next to you, suddenly steering you guys to another room. an intense game of beer pong caught your eye, the three of you leaning in to watch. 

it was two guys who were somehow both losing  horrendously (or winning, technically) and paying the price, their aims pathetic at this stage of inebriation.

you clasped a hand over your mouth, trying to hide your shocked expression. “this is terrible.”

“i would do much better at this,” woonhak spoke absentmindedly. taesan furrowed his brows at the comment, poking woonhak in the ribs and earning a small yelp.

“woonhak, you aim like this completely sober, i don’t think so.” taesan sneered. you could feel them behind you, exchanging a tense glance. curious, you looked back, arching a brow. 

“are you guys… going to fight over hypothetical beer pong? or actually play?” you taunted, trying to flame that competitive glare between them. woonhak looked at you first, his gaze intense as it settled on you. 

“yes, REAL beer pong. taesan, we’re next.” in an instant, he was tugging the other boy past you, the table opening up just in time as the other two had to surrender and stumble away.

you flushed a bit as they brushed by, hoping it was masked by the atmosphere. the both of them were cute, you realized, and they certainly seemed like a pair. you couldn’t help but stare at woonhak in particular, though.

the rest of the night, well, it went quickly.

when they faced off, it was unfortunate for the oh-so-bold woonhak. so unfortunate, that taesan still had four cups left and woonhak only had one left. struck with sympathy, you had taken two drinks for him–and while watching him do so poorly, literally moved him to the side to replace him.

“okay,” you called, holding the ball in front of you. “taesan… you will lose.” woonhak hovered at your side, a bit disgruntled, but wanting the same thing. 

taesan met your gaze, eyes narrow. he only arched his brow, a devious smirk on his face as you bounced and missed. your face fell, but he failed to get your remaining cup too. it went on like this a few more times, but you managed to get three of his cups, the game suddenly even.

taesan put a hand to chest after downing the third drink, grimacing. “agh, oh my god,” he complained, ripe with nervous energy as he watched you set up for another shot. 

you whipped your head to the left, finding woonhak looking equally on edge–time to up the ante.

“woonhak,” you began, deadly serious. the grip you had on his arm was probably harder than necessary. “if i get this… promise me one thing.”

woonhak’s eyes widened, turning to face you fully. “yes?” he prompted. the excited curiosity on his face made you giggle, suddenly turning away from him to shoot. 

“um… kiss me!” you said quickly, not bothering to take in his flustered expression as you went for the win. one bounce, two bounces, three bounces, and– 

“YES!” you shot upwards in victory, watching the ball drop into the final cup. as you spun with glee, you were surprised to find yourself having such a spectacular time at a stupid party. 

a pair of hands pulled you into a hug, woonhak jumping with you for a moment. he gave you a quick squeeze, a wide grin on his face as he looked down at you for a beat. 

but, the rush subsided and you looked across the table. 

“yeah, yeah,” taesan sighed, taking the last cup and downing it unceremoniously. his gaze stayed on you as he set the cup back down, looking like a very sore loser. his rapt attention was on how woonhak loosely had his arm around your waist.

“come on, come on,” you purposefully held onto woonhak, rounding the table to crash into taesan. despite being the dissatisfied party, he let you both parade around him for a minute, the corners of his mouth twitching up. 

“okay, you two,” he said eventually, “i think i’ve had enough.” a gentle force, he guided the two of you away, hoping to find fresh air. 

the flash of anger he had earlier felt like a distant memory as he saw the way you and woonhak matched each others’ energy, unable to hide his slight smile. but, this peace was short-lived. 

“hey, i need a minute,” you said off-handedly. “bathroom.”

taesan turned to assess you, pursing his lips. “do you want one of us to come…?” but you had already started moving back through the crowd, with woonhak trailing after, no– you were pulling him after you, actually. 

taesan froze, his heart pounding. it wasn’t that he doubted anyone’s intentions, no, he just didn’t want to see woonhak so quickly get your favor. at least he could recognize that now. what the fuck? 

a million scenarios ran through his head, but what was going to do? he didn’t control you, or woonhak, as much as it bothered him now. with a scowl, he turned away to find a corner to hide in. or maybe leave, if he brooded too much. 

“tch. not worth my time,” he grumbled to himself, losing sight of you two.

+++

meanwhile, you had very few concerns. 

the two of you were certainly buzzed, but shit–you knew you wanted this as soon as you saw him. and clearly, he did too. 

woonhak had trailed closely behind you as he realized this was really happening, unafraid to be in your space as you finally slipped into the bathroom. to your surprise, it seemed relatively clean, but you didn’t have too long to take in your surroundings as woonhak crowded you.

his hands were careful as they turned you around, the two of you standing near the edge of the counter. you grinned at his expression; he was like an excited puppy as he gazed down at you, soft and curious, not quite sure what to do or say.

“is this okay?” he asked, unable to control how his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips to the rest of you. a bit breathless, you moved to pull him in, your hands sliding to his face.

“of course it is,” you murmured between kisses. woonhak slowly let himself melt into you, his lips sliding against yours, paired with soft noises as you scratched at his scalp. 

naturally, you found yourself pressed back against the counter, cold and hard at your lower back. it was impossible to care, though, when woonhak’s warmth encompassed you. one of his arms fell to the surface behind you, while the other wrapped around you, pulling you in by the nape of your neck.

he was the first to break away, lips already puffy as he found the hinge of your jaw, then the spot below your ear, and the column of your neck… he persisted, too, when he felt the way you shivered at the sensation. 

“oh,” you gasped aloud when he sucked at the junction of your neck, the hard line of his body pressed against yours. he weaseled one of his legs between yours, only to remember that annoying skirt was in his way–so he quickly grabbed the bottom of it, pushing the fabric up to your waist. 

in the heat of the moment, though, neither of you had realized one thing: you still both wore a silly costume with layers that only prolonged your needs being fulfilled. the two of you paused, glancing at yourselves.

“agh, fuck,” he grumbled, struggling for a moment to open the back of his costume and shimmy it off. in turn, you shucked your outer layers, pulling the zipper at your side down and internally cursing yourself.

woonhak caught you off guard when he moved forward, his hand replacing yours and helping you slip off that blue leotard. it gave way to your bare body, save for your bra and underwear, heat rushing through you. 

woonhak held his face close to yours–now you saw that underneath, he had been wearing a plain shirt and shorts. gently, you went to reach under the fabric, feeling the warmth of his bare skin there, rubbing his sides. 

he didn’t need to be told twice. woonhak quickly went to remove his shirt, letting it pool with everything you two had taken off. he pressed his lips to yours, firm but soft, and then descended.

you barely had a chance to appreciate his bare torso, trying to understand all of the dips and ridges of his anatomy as he lowered himself. first, he kissed at your collarbone, shoulder, and your arms as you loosely held onto him. 

in that moment, you were undoubtedly aroused as his lips brushed your cleavage, kissing the edge of the bra, trying to nuzzle deeper, as if he wasn’t actively unclasping it. 

a wave of cool air hit your chest as it fell away, watching as woonhak glanced upwards one last time. “still okay?” he muttered, noticing the way red crawled up your neck. you nodded with enough certainty that he huffed out a short laugh. 

with a lust-driven focus, woonhak’s lips pulled lower, tongue laving directly over your nipple. it was futile trying to control the breaths and whines that left you now, fully falling into it as he kept going. 

one of your hands weakly held his head, pushing him further as he switched sides. he licked around the peak, nipping gently at the soft skin there. then, the gentle pinch of teeth on your nipple–you gripped his hair tightly, buzzing with energy and aching deeply. 

if you weren’t feeling fucked out before, you were now. 

woonhak eased off, taking in your dazed expression and parted lips, and resisting the urge to go back up. instead, he shifted lower, down onto his knees, as he pressed his mouth to your stomach. 

the sight made your heart race, stomach tensing with butterflies. he nudged lower and lower, lips brushing the hem of your panties now. “woonhak,” you breathed. it wasn’t nervous, or unsure, just absolutely teeming with energy. 

his eyes flicked up, hands suddenly on your hips and questioning as they toyed with the material. “i want to,” he said simply, eyes round with need. 

“yes, please.” 

everything felt syrupy as your underwear slid down your legs, his hands brushing the sensitive undersides of your thighs. he brought one over his shoulder as he angled forward, his lips on your inner thighs first. 

the touches were light, but your legs already started to twitch. your eyes fell shut as he pressed a ticklish kiss where your leg met your hip, then farther to the side, and then– you were glancing down to see him bury himself in the soft hair there, his tongue tasting you. 

your hand tangled in his hair, adjusting the angle of your hips against his face, his muffled groan sending vibrations through you. woonhak was so pliable, letting you shift against him, strategically mapping you out with his tongue. 

first, he teased your entrance, his tongue bullying that tight ring of muscle and making you squirm. at the same time, his nose brushed higher up, making you mewl at the dual sensation.

“oh my god,” you cried, trembling when he latched onto your clit, harsh as he sucked on it. your head fell to the side, legs like jello as jolts of pleasure moved through you. the feeling was growing, and becoming more and more consuming, sounds falling from your lips steadily. 

his hand squeezed at your thigh where it rested on his shoulder, holding you as you struggled to sit still. “fuck,” you whined, woonhak moving back to poke at your hole. “woonhak, please.”

your brain couldn’t catch up with your body, or how rapidly you felt the tension in your gut build to a precipice. everything was warm and electric.

when he returned to lap at your clit, your abdomen clenched, leaning back on the counter for support as pleasant sparks moved through your lower half. “woonhak, i- i’m…” 

you stopped yourself from speaking further, letting yourself get lost in the feeling, fingers tight as they pushed his head against you. he only groaned in response, letting you get there–and when you came, gently licking you through it.

if he didn’t help hold you still, you were positive you would've fallen over. your head fell back, and you tried to calm your racing heart as you came down. his hands rubbed at your skin gently, trying to soothe the shaking in your legs. 

woonhak eased off of you, carefully setting down your leg as you looked back down. he was positively gone, chin slick, lips puffy, and a very evident boner where he kneeled on the ground. 

“come here,” you prompted, only standing up straight when he moved to hold onto you. his lips were on you instantly, tongue and lips soft with the taste of you. 

“how was that?” he murmured, barely giving you space to answer as he kissed you again. it flustered you, and you turned your head away with a soft laugh. he only moved to your neck, teeth grazing you. 

“it was great,” you breathed. “obviously.” when you finally caught him, you held his face in your hands, gazing back at him. 

“let me, now?” you blinked, still attentive to the hard heat pressed near your thigh. 

woonhak considered your words, before his hands moved to your waist, pulling you up to sit on the counter, on top of someone’s clothes. you made a surprised noise as he pulled you flush to the edge–flush to his hips. 

his shorts had already been pushed down, your body brushing up against the cotton of his underwear. your hand quickly moved to palm at him, relying on touch alone as he bullied his tongue into your mouth. 

you weren’t about to let him actually fuck you in a frat house bathroom, no, but you would do the next best thing. where he was hot and heavy under his boxers, you freed him, hand wrapping around his length and slowly dragging upward.

woonhak’s response was immediate, his hips pushing into your grip and his lips faltering against yours. oh, someone’s eager. and already very worked up.

you took the opportunity to pull on his lower lip, your thumb teasing his slit and spreading more of his precum. from there, your pace sped up gradually, taking care to keep it consistent. he crumbled against you, weakly kissing you back, and soon burying his face into the side of your neck. 

“ah, please,” he whined, his voice making that dull ache return between your legs. you squeezed his head with precision, feeling the way he twitched in your grasp with every pass. he clung to you, frantic as he turned to lick behind your ear. 

almost as quick as it started, woonhak was pulsing in your hand, gasping into your skin as you worked him through it. his release coated your hand as you slowed, a soft whimper escaping him. 

“you okay, puppy?” you teased, watching his slowly retract from you. woonhak planted his hands on either side of you, his head hanging as he steadied his breath.

“yes, god,” he huffed, glancing down at himself, then to you. with purpose, you lifted your sticky finger to your lips, licking them clean. woonhak short-circuited in real time, before moving to grab something to clean himself with. 

it was hard to not stare at him, even in this dim light. you wanted to see him like this again, you realized, appreciating his features, even with his back to you. 

thankfully, it was easy to reconstruct your outfit, if not for your wobbly legs. woonhak did the same, helping you when he could. it was laughable, really, to return to these costumes after everything. 

before you could step away, he made a point to grab you and kiss you deeply, successfully stilling your mind, if only for a moment. the warmth in your cheeks was impossible to mask, but you didn’t want to. 

the two of you slipped outside together, as casually as you could, but nobody seemed to notice. it was relieving. however, as you came back to reality, and suddenly remembered where you were–

“shit,” you heard woonhak mumble, staring at a notification on his phone. he ran a hand over his face, making an exasperated expression. “ugh, i’m gonna have to deal with him when i get home.”

taesan. right.

“is he… okay?” you probed, your heart jumping. “what, you’ll call him?”

“well–no, i live with him,” he explained. 

roommates?

you blinked. well, that made everything ten times worse. “i had no idea, woonhak. shit, i wouldn’t of– we kind of just–”

“no, no,” woonhak dismissed your worries, pulling you into his side. “it’s not a big deal, or your fault.” 

however, you had an inkling it kind of was. the feeling made you cringe a bit. 

“he can handle himself,” he added bitterly, when he saw the look on your face. “trust me.”

“maybe we should go?” you asked finally, resting against him. 

he nodded slowly, a bit unfocused as he seemed to be processing whatever message he had received. “yeah, i’ll walk you back home.”

quickly, you took out your phone to message your long-forgotten group that had brought you here. a quick ‘someone’s taking me home guys, have fun!’ was sure to spark a game of twenty questions later.

you linked an arm with woonhak, and the two of you finally stepped outside into the cool summer night. 

it was a bit uncertain what would unfold after this, but you didn’t quite worry when he smiled at you. for now, you’d enjoy the moment.

NOTE: soooooo who wears the pants here 🤔🤔

2026 © bigsuki, all rights reserved.

you know you’re in trouble the moment a green cat drops onto your lap and refuses to move.

"woonhak,” you sigh, not looking down. “im reading.”

the cat stares at you slow, its tail twitching quick. suddenly - he’s a person, half-dropped on the sofa, legs dangling off, head now resting on your thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"i can read too,” he says. “you’re just ignoring me.”

"you turned into a cat.”

"exactly. that was my final attempt.”

you glance down at him. his eyes are half-lidded, hair falling into his face, expression unguarded in a way he rarely allows. beast boy is loud, flashy, always moving. woonhak like this—quiet, still—is something only you get to see.

"you’re clingy today,” you say gently.

he hums. “big mission earlier.”

"that was three days ago.”

"yeah, well.” he shifts, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of your sleeve. “it stuck.”

you don’t comment on that. you’ve learned not to push when he gets like this.

the alarm blares before either of you can relax further.

the mission is messy.

hostile terrain, unpredictable enemy, too many civilians nearby. you’re moving in sync with the team when something goes wrong.

a blast throws you off balance, and you hit the ground hard, vision blurring.

you hear your name.

then there’s weight over you, protective, shielding—as woonhak lands beside you, already shifting through forms too fast to track.

"talk to me,” he says, hands on your shoulders. “please.”

“im fine,”you say, even if your chest aches bad.yet still, it’s only breathless pain

he breathes out unevenly, head tilting down to touch your forehead - just for a moment - then shifts away. “don’t pull that stunt. don’t make me panic like this.”

"i didn’t plan it.”

"i know,” he says. “that’s the problem.”

the rest of the mission blurs. you finish it. you always do. but woonhak never leaves your side—not during extraction, not during debrief, not even when medics clear you.

back at the tower, he follows you into your room without a word.

you sit on the edge of the bed, rolling your shoulder carefully. “you can sit, you know.”

"i know.” he doesn’t.

he stands there for a long moment, fists clenched at his sides.

"i don’t like it,” he says finally. “how easy it is to imagine a world where you’re not here.”

you look up at him.

"i've almost died,” he continues quietly. “a lot. i joke about it because if i don’t, it gets too heavy. but when it’s you? i can’t laugh it off.”

you stand and step closer. “woonhak.”

"i don’t want to be the guy who’s always joking when it matters,” he says. “and i don’t want to hide behind turning into something else when I feel too much.”

a dim green light shivers near his form - raw, wild, without order.

"so im not going to do that now.”

he meets your eyes.

"i love you.”

the words hang in the air, steady and certain. no rambling. no joke. just truth.

your chest tightens.

you reach for his hands, grounding him. the glow fades.

"i love you too,” you say. “i’ve loved you. for a while.”

his breath catches. “yeah?”

you nod. “yeah.”

he chuckles - quiet, nothing showy. just tension melting away. then he wraps you up in a hold that's gentle yet firm, as if scared you'd vanish any second.

"youre my anchor,” he murmurs into your hair. “no matter what i turn into, i always come back to you.”

you tilt your head up. “you don’t have to transform to stay.”

he smiles, soft and real. “i know. that’s the best part.”

he leans in and kisses you soft, calm, like hes sure of everything. you draw away slightly but he keeps close, pressing his brows to yours, his gaze bright.

"so” he says, squeezing your hands. “for the record.”

"yes?”

"im done pretending you’re not my weakness.”

you smile. “good.”

——

ju; hi i write more dc x bnd fics, check it out!

There’s no space left.

No air.

Just heat.

Leehan’s hand slides into your hair, tilting your head to the side as his mouth finds your neck. He doesn’t ease into it this time. His lips press hard, teeth grazing before he sucks a mark into your skin like he wants it to last. A broken sound slips from you immediately, and Sungho’s chest rumbles with a low hum of approval behind you.

On the other side, Sungho’s mouth claims your throat with slower precision. He doesn’t rush, but he doesn’t hold back either. His lips drag downward, open and warm, before his teeth scrape lightly along your pulse point. His hands settle on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.

You’re caught.

Held.

Completely owned in that moment.

Leehan lifts his head only to capture your mouth, and the kiss is brutal in its hunger. His lips crash against yours, tongue sweeping in without hesitation. It’s messy, desperate, almost feral. His hands grip your waist and pull you hard against him, and the friction makes your knees threaten to buckle.

Sungho doesn’t let you fall.

His arm snakes around your stomach, holding you upright as his other hand slides higher, spanning your ribs. His mouth finds your jaw, then your neck again, biting softly before soothing the sting with his tongue. The contrast between them is dizzying—Leehan taking, Sungho claiming.

You can’t breathe properly.

Whenever Leehan pulls back, Sungho steals your mouth. The second Sungho releases you, Leehan is there again. They don’t give you a second to think. Your head spins as their kisses overlap, clash, consume.

Leehan’s hands wander boldly, gripping your thighs and dragging you closer, forcing your hips to roll against his. The movement pulls a helpless moan from you, swallowed instantly when Sungho turns your face and kisses you deep, slow, suffocating. His tongue moves with maddening control, like he’s savoring the taste of your desperation.

Your fingers claw at them—one hand fisting into Sungho’s shirt behind you, the other gripping Leehan’s shoulder. It’s too much. Their mouths, their hands, their bodies pressing in from both sides. Heat coils tight in your stomach, sharper now, heavier.

Leehan breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin without apology. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing deliberately over sensitive spots that make you arch forward.

Which only pushes you harder into Sungho.

He exhales against your ear at the contact, low and satisfied. His hips press forward slowly, deliberately, and the friction makes your legs tremble. His hand leaves your waist to cup your jaw, tilting your face back so he can watch your expression unravel.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dark.

Leehan groans softly at the sight too, his forehead pressing briefly against yours before he bites your lower lip and pulls. You whimper, breath stuttering, and they both react instantly—tightening their hold, closing in further.

You’re completely surrounded.

Their hands grow more demanding. Leehan grips your hips and rocks you against him with more force now, controlled but unrelenting. Sungho’s fingers trace slow paths along your torso, dipping just enough to make your breath hitch, then sliding away before you can chase the touch.

It’s deliberate torture.

They know exactly where to touch.

Exactly where not to.

Your thoughts blur entirely. There’s nothing left but sensation—the drag of lips over your skin, the scrape of teeth, the press of their bodies boxing you in. The room fills with uneven breaths, quiet groans, and the slick sound of kisses that are far too deep.

When you whisper their names, it comes out wrecked.

Leehan kisses you again, slower this time but somehow even more intense. His tongue moves against yours in a rhythm that makes your stomach twist painfully. His hand slides lower, squeezing your thigh hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

Sungho’s lips trail down your neck to your shoulder, biting, sucking, marking you as if he wants proof of this later. His hands roam with heavy confidence, thumbs digging into your hips to hold you steady while he grinds against you from behind in slow, punishing strokes.

Your legs shake openly now.

You press back into Sungho, forward into Leehan, chasing more without even realizing you’re doing it. You’re desperate for friction, for pressure, for something to snap the tight coil in your stomach.

“Please,” you breathe, barely coherent.

Leehan laughs under his breath—low, almost cruel. “Please what?”

You can’t answer properly. You just whimper.

Sungho’s fingers tighten at your waist. He leans down, lips brushing your ear. “You’re so sensitive tonight.”

The words alone nearly undo you.

Leehan’s hand slides up your side again, teasing, hovering, never quite giving what you need most. His mouth moves to your throat, sucking harder this time until you gasp sharply.

The tension spikes so suddenly it almost hurts.

Your body feels like it’s vibrating, every nerve lit up and straining. You’re right there—balanced on the edge, ready to fall.

And then—

They stop.

Completely.

Leehan’s mouth lifts from your skin. Sungho’s hands go still. The friction disappears so abruptly you nearly stumble.

They hold you for one suspended second longer, just enough to let the loss sink in.

Then they step back.

The cool air hits your flushed skin, and the absence of their touch feels louder than anything that came before. You sway slightly, breath ragged, lips swollen, neck marked in blooming shades that will darken by morning.

They look at you like they’re proud of the destruction.

Leehan runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip, almost gentle now. Sungho’s gaze drags down your body, slow and assessing, like he’s memorizing every tremble.

You’re still shaking.

Still aching.

And they know it.

Leehan presses one last soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, deceptively sweet. Sungho leans in to brush his lips against your neck again, right over the most sensitive spot, making your breath hitch one more time.

Then they pull away fully.

Leaving you burning.

Leaving you wound tight enough that the tension hums under your skin like a live wire.

They don’t need to say anything.

The promise lingers in their eyes.

Later, when they finally decide you’ve had enough, they’ll finish what they started.

For now, they leave you trembling in the aftermath, every inch of you alive with need, knowing they’ve turned you into something desperate and breathless—and that they’ll make you beg for the rest.

© All rights reserved @gigisnextdoor 2026.