The colour of the wallpaper is more watery oatmeal than beige, and the dinner they had was far from worth it, but all thoughts of overdone steak when it had been ordered rare is forgotten when Howon bunches Myungsoo’s shirt up in his fists and holds him against the wall, kissing him madly.

“Isn’t this a little… suspicious?”

It was what Myungsoo had first uttered when Howon led him here, hand tight around his elbow. They’re both used to layering up when they want to be inconspicuous but the hotel is gaudy and the frequent bellboys at each corner meant the knot in Myungsoo’s chest had only grown more uncomfortable on the elevator ride up. Surely among the many they’ve seen, someone recognizes them, and they’re both men but they’ve booked a hotel room for one night with the works and there’s not much else that can be assumed from that.

Howon hadn’t answered. There was no need for too much convincing, and little resistance now as Howon’s hand makes its way down Myungsoo’s body and palming the boy’s length. He keeps Myungsoo pinned against the wall, their faces close, Howon's etched with command as he kneads his hand right over Myungsoo’s groin until he’s able to put his fingers around something hard.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

And it’s then that his lips find the skin of Myungsoo’s neck and they make their way down to the crook of his shoulder as he works the top few buttons free, pushing the shirt down to Myungsoo’s elbows and marking a discreet little spot against that pale shoulder with his teeth.  He knows exactly what he’s doing but Myungsoo doesn’t, still in that state of shock at the fact that this is really happening and he just keeps his eyes downcast, eventually mustering the energy to sift his fingers through Howon’s hair, and when his hyung settles on his knees, it doesn’t take a genius to know where Myungsoo’s mind has gone.

“No… oh God.”

Myungsoo’s never had a blow job before. And to think that Howon of all people is going to change that is something of a mystery to Myungsoo, whose back slips against the wall as his fly is undone, his most worn pair of plain black pants down to his knees. He steps out of them and Howon tortures him with a teasing drag of his tongue across his thick lower lip, faint glimmers of sweat dotting his brow – it’s a movement Myungsoo can’t help but track with eyes attentive as anything and he can’t help but moan at the sight, his hips moving forward instinctively. There’s a chuckle but Howon doesn’t cluck and berate him like he usually does (Myungsoo’s sexual naivety and desperation has always been a teasing point for him), instead staying silent and skipping past the verbal foreplay to kiss over the wet spot in Myungsoo’s briefs.

The silence is a little unbearable.

It’s because Myungsoo can only hear the rasps he calls breathing and the wet sounds that Howon’s mouth makes when they idly work their way up and around Myungsoo’s bare shaft, following the soft grooves of the veins that are there. It’s painful, really painful, because he’s being so purposefully slow, keeping his kisses tinged with that hint of disinterest and Myungsoo swears because he doesn’t want to go through with this anymore: “oh my God Hoya just hurry the fuck up” but his pleas are met with no response. He tries again, hand pushing against Howon’s head, but all he gets is a warning slap on the ass and “you didn’t say the right thing, moron”. Yet before Myungsoo – “moron” – can correct himself, Howon’s groaning and for the briefest of moments Myungsoo’s lifted off the carpet, thrown onto the bed before he can collect himself and then that’s when he gets what he wants.

A classic scene, Myungsoo knows, and he can only describe it in a classic way – through the fogginess surrounding his rationality he thinks to himself that this is heavenly, the way his body is finally free from all his clothes, the way Howon’s face is buried against his crotch, grunts and licking sounds reaching Myungsoo’s ear in a marvellous symphony. And the wet heat that’s closed around his length like nothing he could ever have imagined has Myungsoo setting both hands, firm and demanding, in Howon’s hair, his stomach clenching and relaxing with each slide and draw of Howon’s tongue, his breathing becoming erratic, his words even more so, as he swears more than he had ever in any year in his life previously. His blood is boiling and his skin feels like its burning with it as one of his hands grapple with the material of Howon’s shirt (why the hell was that still on?) and the more he tugs, he finds the more Howon groans, and soon the older man’s had enough and he strips the damn thing off.

Jesus, Myungsoo. Impatient dick.

Someday, someday Myungsoo will get Howon back for all the name-calling. The dancer’s chest is nothing new to Myungsoo’s eyes but for his fingers to be running over it, for his tongue to be catching into the hollow of his collarbone, it’s a completely different story. Howon doesn’t let him play for too long, a low rumble of a chuckle at how utterly fascinated Myungsoo seems followed by a “you haven’t felt anything yet, kitten,” and why Myungsoo’s being likened to a cat Myungsoo doesn’t know but he convinces himself that it sounds erotic, because when Howon’s flipping him over onto his stomach anything to his ears would sound nice, really, especially when Howon’s still clothed bulge is pressed to his bare ass and—

Oh.

At first Myungsoo supports himself up on his elbows so he can turn his head and watch without the position being awkward, but Howon forces him back down, the fabric of his tight jeans somehow cruel against the tender skin of Myungsoo’s behind. And the belt adds a whole other element, the metal cool when it comes into contact with Myungsoo’s flesh, and he flinches because the edges are sharp and he’s sensitive there. Howon grins and twists a hand in his lover’s locks, tilting his head to the side so they can kiss, tentative at first but then feverish and desperate in the play of tongue against tongue. “Good kitten,”, then Myungsoo lets his body become inert (though his cock twitches with need) when he hears the tinkle of Howon unbuckling his belt, the “…motherfucker” still tormenting Myungsoo’s senses as he drags his zipper down with an excruciating slowness.

“Fuck you Hoya.”

“What?” And Myungsoo’s about to answer but then his body bucks and Howon flattens it with a simple grip on his waist, his right index finger slick with saliva as it pumps readily in and out of Myungsoo’s hole. The action has Myungsoo struggling to string words together and when Howon realizes his hand is useless at keeping him still from squirming so much, he uses it instead to smack a redness at Myungsoo’s ass, relishing the noise it tears from the singer’s throat as he jumps, unused to being treated so. Hair becomes matted, fingers slip in the sheets for purchase and finally Myungsoo’s a moaning, writhing mess, in other words ready in Howon’s experience. He doesn’t loosen his jeans past his knees, finding them unrestricting and helpful in adding that extra element to the sex because he’s still partially clothed and Myungsoo isn’t. He doesn’t want to show that he’s just as excited, if not more so, than Myungsoo is but it gets pretty damn hard to hide anything when the tip of his cock is encased, and he knows Myungsoo’s a virgin, but “damn it, kitten,”and it takes all of Howon’s patience to not just ram straight in and get on with it. One hand bracing himself upright, Howon’s brow knits and his jaw is slack with awe yet set with concentration as he watches his dick being engulfed, not the first time he’s ever done a guy, but the first time the guy’s ever been as unblemished and innocent as Myungsoo. It’s not this position that Howon likes most, but it’s the easiest and best for the first time round, and when he’s halfway in (the way Myungsoo’s holding onto him is incredible), he props Myungsoo up by the hips, urging the boy to be on his knees and hands, knowing the shift in position is what makes Myungsoo’s throat go dry, his voice hoarse as he groans in response with a hint of self-consciousness.

“Don’t worry. You’re perfect.”

It’s the most loving thing Howon’s said to him, ever, but Myungsoo doesn’t let himself melt into the sudden nicety because he knows it won’t last. And sure enough, once Howon confirms that Myungsoo’s not going to slip from how he is, he pulls Myungsoo back onto his cock, sheathing himself to the hilt and the pain that shoots through Myungsoo’s body is something unparalleled by anything he’s ever experienced and he curses, a vein pulsing at the side of his neck. Fucking is the only thing Howon hears, and the rapper laughs, his jeans still pooled around his knees.

“You’ve thought about this.”

A single thrust. Quickly – out, back in, then out.

“This has gotten you off before,” “At night,” “I hear you,”

Myungsoo has always believed that first times should be sweeter than this. But if there had to be one thing idol life taught him, it’s that time doesn’t wait for anybody.

“Okay kitten. Let me see you prove yourself.”

It’s as much of a warning as Myungsoo’s ever going to get before Howon’s securing him in place with a hardened grip at his hips, moving the younger man’s body to meet his thrusts. They’re deep, angled, knowing movements, not at all careless in pleasuring Myungsoo, and though Howon has yet to start jerking him off, Myungsoo’s cock is already throbbing in anticipation. His arms begin to weaken and he slackens against the bed, ass still up, still red, being kept red from the repeated spanks of Howon’s palm against the cheeks, and when Howon can tell Myungsoo can’t keep himself upright even like this for much longer he lets the boy drop, boneless, against the mattress.

“Good enough.” Open-mouthed kisses are planted all down Myungsoo’s neck, and there’s the distant jingle of someone exiting from their room on their floor as Howon flattens his body against Myungsoo’s, the toned plane of his stomach pushing Myungsoo’s senses into mania. There’s the light glide of those abs against Myungsoo’s back and then there’s the ache inside him as Howon powers on, the roll of his hips relentless as he’s on his elbows, encouraging Myungsoo with gruff words that come off as hot breaths against the visual’s neck, his eyes not missing a single strain of Myungsoo’s muscles as the boy’s veins catch fire, the pressure building in his own groin at the sight.

But of course, he wants Myungsoo to be the one coming first, so he reaches a hand beneath Myungsoo’s body, expert fingers curling around his shaft and pumping fast. It’s all very vanilla, Howon not bothering with any fancy tricks, but it’s exactly what Myungsoo needs to be sent over the edge. His body creates a beautiful arc as he lifts off the bed, seemingly sucking his stomach in, as he spills over Howon’s hand, hot and unchecked – “yeah, let me hear you, kitten”, and Howon milks him through it with obvious impatience. Fingers now webbed with cum, Howon daubs the corner of Myungsoo’s lips with it as the rest of it is smeared unceremoniously down that pale back as he began to move to reach his own climax – an ends that he meets with a hitched, startled groan when his lover suddenly steadies himself with erotic confidence and grinds his ass back up against Howon’s crotch, fitting him deeper. The deliberate clench of muscles around Howon’s cock means that’s it: he’s filling Myungsoo, a feeling he knows Myungsoo won’t ever forget. “Oh fuck… fuck,” Myungsoo’s breath is stolen from him again as he detects the warmth shooting inside him, and he turns his head just in time to meet Howon’s lips. There’s those annoyingly unsympathetic pulls on Myungsoo’s hair again as Howon’s cock softens and slips free of the confines of Myungsoo’s walls, and even in the aftermath, the older man’s chest is heaving laboriously and when he’s not tasting the inside of Myungsoo’s mouth, he’s taking in loud gulps of air.

It’s clear he’s utterly exhausted.

“Tired after one round? Did I really feel so good I drained you clean?”

Firm fingers find the soft flesh of Myungsoo’s neck, and for a moment his breath cuts off.

“Shut the fuck up,”

Myungsoo’s eyes only widen for the most fleeting of seconds but Howon catches it and laughs, patting him like he’s a cat, still resting atop him, kissing Myungsoo in the silence that follows.