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Sweet, Sugary Sweet

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There’s a freshman living alone in the apartment above Taeyong. He introduced himself once, leaned against the doorjamb and asked Taeyong to call him “Jay” in a smooth American accent. Taeyong told him he couldn’t understand English and “Jay” lost the bravado he rallied up hours beforehand. The building’s mailbox already has the name “Jaehyun” taped on it anyway.

Taeyong doesn’t talk to him often, half because their schedules don’t allow them to catch each other and half because he doesn’t really want to, but Jaehyun is smart and tall, solidly built. He lugged most of Taeyong’s moving boxes up the stairwell by himself, happy to show off his sculpted biceps while Taeyong helpfully pointed out where to place his things.

Two weeks in and fully settled, Taeyong texts Jaehyun at the number Jaehyun modestly provided, adding a sparkling heart emoji at the end of his message.

The ceiling thumps with heavy rushing footsteps just a minute before there’s a polite rap at Taeyong’s door. Taeyong lets Jaehyun inside, leads him over to the computer desk where Taeyong sits up on the edge, tapping the closed laptop beside his hip with delicate fingers.

“I need help with this,” Taeyong tells him around a mouthful of gum, blowing a bright tangerine-flavored bubble. The pop pierces the quiet of his apartment.

It’s late in the evening. Jaehyun is stationary in the middle of the room in a pair of fluffy green pajamas and a t-shirt. Taeyong is in his boxers and a tank top, warm skin on display from his bony collarbones down to his thighs. The battle waging in Jaehyun is adorably obvious. His gaze shifts from Taeyong’s shoulders then up to his eyes, from Taeyong’s swinging legs and back up to his eyes.

He swallows his tongue and grins with a pink face. “O-o-okay. Yeah, I can…do that.”

Jaehyun rambles while he works, about his electronic engineering major and his furniture outlet job and his prospective internship overseas in Nagoya. There’s a stubborn bit of dust under Taeyong’s index fingernail from scrubbing the walls earlier, but he nods and hums at all the right moments while he picks at it. By the time he cleans it, Jaehyun has finished the initial OS set-up, connected the wi-fi and the printer, updated the webcam software and even installed a few music apps he recommends.

Taeyong thanks him with a sweet smile and reaches into the drawer of his desk. He plucks a wrapped piece of taffy and holds it out to Jaehyun. Jaehyun squints at it, baffled – it’s watermelon flavor, the best flavor, he really should be more grateful – so Taeyong holds it up to his mouth, trapping Jaehyun’s eyes in his own, and plants a soft kiss to the candy wrapper.

Jaehyun whimpers low in his throat and accepts the taffy in his trembling fist. Taeyong sees him out, admiring his shoulders and the perky swell of his ass as he shuts the door.

There’s a few tasks Taeyong should be prioritizing now that his laptop’s running, course lab manuals to print, job applications to fill out, syllabi to forget three minutes after reading.

He chooses to ignore all of it, for now. His webcam is set up and clipped to the top of his monitor. He takes everything to his bedroom and places it the foldaway table beside his bed, door shut, lights off. He spits his stale gum into the wastebin and grabs a fresh stick, peach-flavored this time.

When he was younger, a quiet kid in high school who didn’t understand the flurry in his gut watching his best friend, Yuta, work up a sweat playing soccer, Taeyong realized he could find insight on the internet. He was unnatural with computers, still is, but he could use an online search. Searching for answers led him to blogs, blogs led him to chatrooms and chatrooms led him to Pique.

Unlike other webcam sites Taeyong browsed through, profit didn’t appeal to Pique’s unique userbase. They wanted to form a community open to those who shared the craving to watch and be watched, those who siphoned ecstasy from the audience. They befriended each other, shared encouragement and ideas, explored the totality of manifesting sexual liberty together. For young Taeyong, it was toeing into a new world.

Taeyong has frequented Pique since he was fifteen under a false birthdate, held his very first show when he was seventeen and crippled with self-imposed isolation. He found he preferred the company of just one viewer to the indignity of a crowd of strangers coaching him through fingerfucking himself. He liked to be equal, have a visual of his partner enjoying him fondle himself. The intimate touch is what makes the experience worthwhile.

There are new messages and subscription requests in his inbox when he logs in, all of which he deletes without reading. It’s habitual since he joined the community, older men pressuring him to show his pretty face and meet them in person. Taeyong’s always denied them, because he was once afraid of them discovering his real age, because enduring an extended conversation with someone not his family or Yuta is a draining effort, because they don’t hold any value to him outside of being temporary playmates.

When Taeyong is ready to start with an unlabeled shoebox sitting beside him, he aims the webcam below his shoulders and goes live. His viewing room is always set to private, accessible only when he accepts a request. He sifts through the usernames with waning attention, skipping familiar names and anyone without an active camera until he finds a new user, Dokdoktok.

Dokdoktok’s video feed gives Taeyong a grainy picture of his new partner’s already bare torso. He’s skinny although still wider than Taeyong, deathly pale with surfacing muscle that could be favorable tricks of the shadows. He’s wearing sweatpants and his hands are bunched in his lap, long fingers twisting the waistband. There’s no sagging gut, no wedding ring, no forest of body hair or wrinkled skin. Dokdoktok is a young man.

Taeyong perks up. In seven years, he’s never partnered with anyone close to his age. The young man can obviously see him too, but his hands don’t reach for the keyword in search of a lewd come-on. Taeyong fills the empty chatbox beneath Dokdoktok’s video feed.

[Rubeus07 (10:48:36 PM): i thnk ur cams stalld. u havnt moved in a min :P]

Dokdoktok twitches with his entire body. Taeyong snorts laughter and watches Dokdoktok’s hands hover over the keyboard, light with hesitance and unfamiliarity. This must be the first time he’s ever played with anyone.

[Dokdoktok (10:50:02 PM): Sorry. I couldn’t think of a clever greeting.]

[Rubeus07 (10:50:43 PM): how bout “hello”?]

[Dokdoktok (10:52:57 PM): …I guess that could work. Hello.]

[Rubeus07 (10:53:21 PM): hi there]

[Rubeus07 (10:53:39 PM): see? im not so hard to tlk to -3-]

Every message is met with a stalled reply from Dokdoktok. He wrings his hands in his lap, massages his shoulder or his neck, rubs away what must be butterflies fluttering in his flat stomach.

[Dokdoktok (10:56:06 PM): You’re right. I’m nervous.]

[Rubeus07 (10:56:50 PM): thts ok. its ur 1st time huh?]

The violent jerk of Dokdoktok’s hands away from the keyboard is the answer Taeyong needs.

[Rubeus07 (10:57:12 PM): wld u be more comfy if u saw me 1st?]

Taeyong doesn’t need to wait for a typed response. One of Dokdoktok’s hands retreats to his lap, curling around the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants. He must not realize his own actions, his hand recoils a moment later as if embarrassed. Taeyong can’t deny finding it endearing.

Usually, he makes more of a tease when removing his clothes. He’d start slow, pinch the hem of his shirt demurely and slowly reveal his honey-tinted skin. He’s never been the more experienced half, it’s nice to drop the façade of modesty without disappointing his partner.

Dokdoktok’s chest comes closer into view as Taeyong peels the tank top away from his skin. His partner is leaning in attentively, hand drifting back to his crotch when Taeyong’s manicured nails scrape over his peaked nipples. The boxers go next. Taeyong makes a show of removing them, knees poised together in the air and blocking the camera’s view while he tugs them off, then he sits and leans back on his hands, legs spread to show his half-hard cock nestled in the crook of his thigh.

Dokdoktok’s messages come faster now, even with one hand groping himself.

[Dokdoktok (11:00:54 PM): i really like your body.]

[Dokdoktok (11:01:11 PM): like fucking realy.]

[Dokdoktok (11:01:54 PM): youre so hot nd really fucking pretty.]

Taeyong grins with his gum held between his teeth. His dick throbs from Dokdoktok’s honest praise. He drags his nails up the sensitive insides of his thighs, lazy and slow from his knees up to his hips, stopping when his slim fingers frame crotch. The effect it has on Dokdoktok is worth the teasing, his heel grinding into his erection with open need.

[Rubeus07 (11:04:05 PM): u njoying urself?]

Dokdoktok’s hand pauses, but it doesn’t move away this time. He’s losing his hesitance.

[Dokdoktok (11:04:49 PM): sorry.]

[Dokdoktok (11:05:31 PM): i can control myself.]

[Rubeus07 (11:06:10 PM): dnt be. i liiike it]

[Rubeus07 (11:06:42 PM): now ur turn~]

It doesn’t take as long as Taeyong expects. Dokdoktok shifts in his chair anxiously, thumbs stuck in the waistband of sweatpants. There must be a mental pep talk going on. Taeyong is patient, fingers skating along the side of his length, eyes unblinking on the video feed.

In a skittish rush, Dokdoktok stands to drop his bottoms and falls back to his seat. Taeyong’s eyes blow wide and his pink lips purse in awe. Dokdoktok cock is certainly worth the patience, well above average and long, maybe even twice the size of Taeyong’s. The shitty camera quality doesn’t do it justice, but the stark thickness of it drooping heavily between Dokdoktok’s thighs rattles Taeyong to the bone. He’s never been this lucky with choosing a partner before.

Dokdoktok is out of his element again, hands curled into fist on his knees, then pulling at the chair’s armrests, then trying to cover himself before faltering at lying on his stomach. His legs are jittering in place and his chest up to neck is flushed red. Taeyong probably isn’t helping by keeping silent, but he won’t apologize for ogling a masterpiece.

[Rubeus07 (11:13:29 PM): sht ur pretty fkin huge :o]

[Rubeus07 (11:14:08 PM): u gotta warn sum1 whn ur pking tht)

[Rubeus07 (11:14:52 PM): i might hav to marry u now u kno]

Dokdoktok’s shoulders shake with laughter and his arms finally still themselves. He grabs the base of his cock tightly, giving Taeyong an idea of how it might look in his own grasp. He might be jealous of Dokdoktok’s hand.

[Dokdoktok (11:15:32 PM): you like it that much?]

[Rubeus07 (11:16:37 PM): its wht ill be thnking of whnevr i fnger myself now]

The hand on Dokdoktok’s cock starts to move, slow strokes punctuated by squeezes around his cockhead. Taeyong licks his lips. His mouth waters around his stale gum.

[Dokdoktok (11:18:20 PM): it likes you too.]

[Rubeus07 (11:18:49 PM): yh? wht wld it like me to do?]

Dokdoktok pauses suddenly and lets go of his erection. Something must be concerning him.

[Dokdoktok (11:20:00 PM): What can I ask from you? I don’t want to offend you.]

[Rubeus07 (11:21:01 PM): ive got a toybox ful of fun stuf. try me]

[Dokdoktok (11:22:38 PM): Do you have anything…pink?]

Taeyong frowns at the message in the chatbox, puzzled. He has a string of pink pleasure beads, a pink egg-shaped vibrator, a pink onahole with specks of glitter, a pink head of hair, but he gets the sense those aren’t what Dokdoktok is looking for.

[Rubeus07 (11:22:54 PM): pink?]

[Dokdoktok (11:23:29 PM): Like, socks?]

It clicks then. Taeyong gets playmates like this sometimes, the types who still have a toe lodged in the figurative closet, the types who want to see him dolled up and dainty, panting and begging on his knees, keening in the back of his throat for a big, strong man. He’s never complied, but he won’t pretend he isn’t curious with the request coming from younger playmate.

[Rubeus07 (11:24:13 PM): ah i get ya. nthing like tht in stock tday sry :( ]

[Rubeus07 (11:24:43 PM): mb ill make it up to u]

[Dokdoktok (11:25:07 PM): You don’t have to.]

[Rubeus07 (11:25:52 PM): mm play wit me agen l8r. ill surprise u ]

The honeyed promises Taeyong makes on Pique are usually just that, empty sweetness to keep his partners confident and giving. Then he starts to think, plan. A trip to the mall wouldn’t be so untimely even if he never plays with Dokdoktok after tonight.

[Dokdoktok (11:26:35 PM): Ah I’m really excited now.]

[Dokdoktok (11:27:11 PM): Can I ask for something else now then?]

[Rubeus07 (11:27:25 PM): whtevr u like]

[Dokdoktok (11:29:26 PM): Could I see your butt?]

[Rubeus07 (11:30:18 PM): not if u call it tht -.- ]

[Dokdoktok (11:30:48 PM): Your hole?]

Taeyong’s grin is pleased. Three quarters of an hour to get to a point most men ask for in the first five minutes, he feels accomplished. He shifts away from the laptop and flips open the shoebox beside him. It’s filled with toys others have suggested for him, a variety of different sized dildos and plugs, markers to right his partners’ names on his skin, a chastity cage he hasn’t been brave enough to try out yet, a half-empty bottle of toy cleaner.

He grabs a bottle of lube, sweet cherry, and returns to camera’s view. He pops open the cap, unhurried, gives Dokdoktok the agonizingly slow visual of him drizzling the sticky liquid over two fingers. Dokdoktok’s hands are already at his cock in anticipation, both of them needed cover his considerable length. He’s squeezing tight but not stroking, giving in to his lust just enough not to blow his load too early. Oddly, Taeyong wouldn’t be disappointed if he did.

Taeyong leans back on his clean palm, plants both feet flat on the mattress, knees high and legs spread in a perfect M to expose his smooth, pink entrance. His wet hand trail down the side of his cock, over his balls and massaging down his taint, stopping when two glistening fingers frame around his pucker, prim nails digging into the flesh of his ass cheeks.

Dokdoktok is stroking himself, a measured pace that pauses to squeeze strongly at the thick base. He removes one of his hands to type another message.

[Dokdoktok (11:36:34 PM): holy fuck youre so so hot.]

[Dokdoktok (11:36:52 PM): evrything about you is.]

[Dokdoktok (11:37:29 PM): id fucking lose it if i was tere with you.]

Taeyong bends forward to message back, fingers now swirling leisurely over pucker. His spine aches but the harsh throbbing from his cock is top priority.

[Rubeus07 (11:38:16 PM): rly? wht wld u do to me?]

[Dokdoktok (11:39:00 PM): id lick you. your nipples and your cute cock nd your hole]

[Dokdoktok (11:39:28 PM): id let you use my fingers instead of yours]

[Dokdoktok (11:39:51 PM): get you ready to take all of me]

Taeyong’s willingness to use his keyboard wanes and plunges his fingers into himself while he enjoys Dokdoktok’s hunger. They sink in deep to the knuckle, a pleasant clenching around them when he sees Dokdoktok start to tug on his round balls, slap his cock against his stomach. The sound of it must be a polonaise of ecstasy. Taeyong grinds his own reddened cock against his forearm in lieu of using his free hand.

[Rubeus07 (11:41:33 PM): ur dicks a monstr tho. i thnk ud wrek lil me]

[Dokdoktok (11:42:07 PM): would u let me?]

“Yes,” Taeyong breathes out in the open, unaware of his own voice. His fingers move with purpose, pushing further inside and curling greedily against his killing spot. With his eyes shut he can imagine Dokdoktok’s slim fingers inside him instead, twisting and spreading, enough so Taeyong’s hole is pliant but not stretched quite enough for Dokdoktok’s size. He’d want Taeyong to feel every think inch being stuffed inside him, the pain a welcome reward for being so receptive.

[Rubeus07 (11:43:43 PM): id let u do w/e u wnt]

[Rubeus07 (11:44:12 PM): im alrdy thnking of u. fingrs not big enuf. need more]

[Rubeus07 (11:44:37 PM): need u to com break my pussy in]

Taeyong’s message works the magic he expects. Dokdoktok’s hands stutter as he explodes, full-bodied quaking, cum gushing up from his cock and splattering up his stomach and chest, even farther up than Taeyong can see, and it keeps coming even after he’s nearly covered his front. Taeyong barely gets a grip around himself before he finishes from the sight, both hands moving in tandem to work every load out, eyes never leaving the exquisite video feed.

By the time Taeyong has calmed down and cleaned his fingers off, Dokdoktok’s chest is still rising in labored breaths. He wipes his hands off on something off screen and sends a message.

[Dokdoktok (11:50:29 PM): I swear I don’t usually let out that much.]

[Rubeus07 (11:51:04 PM): u say tht like its a bad thing :P]

Dokdoktok’s hesitates to reply, nerves likely returning now that horniness isn’t fueling his bravery. It’s nearly midnight anyway.

[Rubeus07 (11:51:52 PM): gonna pass out now. u were tons of fun cutie ♥ ]

Taeyong closes out of the room and stretches his skinny arms above his head. The exhaustion after a good wank is always pleasant to sleep off.

Before he shuts his laptop, he sees a notification bubble his account inbox, a bright red number one. Dokdoktok is requesting to subscribe to his channel. Taeyong hums and accepts his very first subscriber, wondering when he’ll have a chance for a trip to the mall.

 

–––

 

Afternoon classes are the most unforgiving. The push to wake himself up in spiteful sunlight of the morning, the early lectures on cuneiform and primitive irrigation systems followed by a critical dissection of Noguchi’s scattered poetry – Yuta’s suggestion – they don’t compare the drag of waiting for his last class of the day to end. Two hours of chemistry feels no different than two lifetimes worth.

Taeyong’s lab table is in the farthest corner of the room away from the whiteboard, distance enough for him to habitually unlock his phone without reprimand from his shrill instructor. His face is cradled in his hand, his eyelids are heavy and flutter his dark lashes. There’s a bag of gummy worms in his lap, open and almost empty, keeping him alive.

He cycles between scratching out abstract notes he won’t be able to read later, scrolling through his phone, and systematically chewing his candied worms head first, tail next, then the body. The next worm he picks another lime-flavored one, his least favorite flavor. He draws his finger in miserable circles around his notebook.

“Couldn’t you wait until you’re not around corrosive chemicals to eat those?”

Every so often, there’s a bothersome hissing voice from Taeyong’s right side. He mistook it for his conscience when he heard it the first day of class, making an appearance after years of letting bad decisions fall through the cracks, and he disregarded it with resent. When it didn’t leave him alone, he was forced to realize it was something tangible, something worse.

Taeyong stares sidelong at the student beside him, just enough to not spend energy turning his head. The student is taller, skinny, frowns a lot whenever Taeyong sees him. His hair is the dark shade of chocolate but not nearly as tantalizing, his closet must be full of short-sleeve button-ups and tan slacks. By some misfortune, he’s Taeyong’s lab partner.

Once upon a time Taeyong knew his name, but he’s forcefully wiped it from his memory since.

Taeyong’s fingers pick through his bag of candy, plucking out worm that’s half lemon, half cherry. He snags the worm’s head between his teeth, stretches its body until it snaps in two, and offers the half in his fingers to his lab partner.

His rude lab partner scoffs, unamused, and returns to his notes. Taeyong isn’t sure why, half a worm is pretty generous of him.

“Why? You gonna tattle on me again?” Taeyong pouts, voice laced with mocking fear.

More than a semester ago, Taeyong was caught and reprimanded by a campus security guard for smoking behind one of the buildings, apparently to close to the science department’s equipment storage. Had the man who snitched on him not brazenly approached him later to recommend several designated smoking areas, Taeyong would’ve forgotten the incident entirely.

Said snitch rolls his eyes. “I’m not apologizing. There was a huge sign over the…”

The acid-base reactions on the whiteboard are suddenly fascinating. Taeyong tunes out the hissing beside him and copies down a useful list of equilibrium rules. He’s out of gummy worms anyway.

The mall is a convenient short drive away from Taeyong’s apartment. Typically he only shops for bath soaps and lotions there, the fruit-infused kinds that fill his bathroom with sweetness and make his mouth water. Sometimes a pair of sneakers or a graphic t-shirt will catch his fancy.

He shops through a few men’s stores first, coming out with a new maroon hoodie with a black skull on the front and a belt for his troubles. Choosing a women’s store to start with is more legwork, more of them focused on evening outfits and trendy accessories. A female friend would be a welcomed ally at times like this. There are only so many roles Yuta can fill.

He ends up in a department store on the top floor, picking through a disarranged rack of pleated skirts, green apple sour ball twisting around his tongue. The numbered sizes don’t correspond well to his waist in men’s clothes and he didn’t think to bring measuring tape.

While he’s pinching the soft fabric of different pairs of colorful socks in a different aisle, a saleswoman walking by approaches him with a chipper smile. “Hi, sir! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Taeyong bows his head with a polite smile. “Yeah, actually. I’m having trouble with like…sizes. I’m, uh, not use to this,” he explains, scrubbing his fingers through his vibrant hair.

“Sure, no problem!” she chirps and stands beside him to scan the clothes selection as well. “Do you know what age the person your shopping for is? Her body type, maybe?”

“Ah, no, it’s for me,” he murmurs, distracted by a bright blue pair of socks. He tugs them off their peg, chuckling at the pattern of white stars stitched around the neck. He’s always wanted to be a star. “Huh, these are cute.”

The saleswoman covers her surprise with the natural grace of someone who earns on commission. “O-oh, well I can help with that too. Could you tell me your shoe size in men’s?”

She turns out to be a great help and Taeyong soaks up the knowledge. She helps him find different socks in his size, clarifies the difference in the petite section – the one he ignorantly searched through – and the regular section, and even recommends other accessories to match the two skirts he buys. His waist is about seventy-three centimeters, or so she compliments.

He tries one of them on in the dressing room with his shirt stripped off. The waistband in snug around his stomach but not uncomfortable, the design gives him the illusion of hips he doesn’t have, and his legs look longer, shapelier. He twists his hips this way and that to get a view of his backside, debating whether he’d look better with shaved legs. Unshaved wins.

The cashier finishes ringing up his purchases just as his sour ball dissolves. He spends more money than he intended.

It’s several days before he gets to put anything he bought to good use. He logs onto Pique twice over the week, missing Dokdoktok by a day the first time, hours the second time. He occupies himself with other partners in the meantime, one of whom insists on naming him “princess.” Not a bad opportunity to try out his new wardrobe, but he wants to keep his promise, just this once. The wait will make the occasion more worthwhile.

On Friday evening, Dokdoktok is online.

It’s foreign for Taeyong to feel like this before a show, giddy with anticipation. He remembers when he was younger, fresher, when every new request from his partners sent his stomach fluttering with nervousness. It’s the same now, shaping new rivers after months of stagnation, relishing in the approval of someone witnessing his change, and he knows Dokdoktok will make for an appreciative audience.

Yes, Taeyong quite likes Dokdoktok’s enthusiasm.

He has to get ready first. He grabs his toy box from under the bed and tosses it on the mattress. The soft lavender shopping tote from the women’s boutique is untouched in his closet. He sorts through it to pick out something not too overbearing – he’s just dipping his toes in the water, after all. Then he covers himself with a baggy pair of shorts and a black knit sweater with sleeves that stretch down to his knuckles, the bottom hem kissing his thighs.

He sits at the edge of the bed, close to the camera so he’s hidden above shoulder and below thigh, and he goes live. There’s an influx of requests to view his show, as usual, and Dokdoktok’s username is among the first listed. Taeyong reaches behind his laptop for a stick of orange gum and allows him in.

This time, he’s wearing a pale blue t-shirt and he’s already down to just his plaid boxer. He’s taking a drink from a green bottle with a dandelion print when he realizes he’s live, dripping water on his shirt from surprise. Taeyong snorts his amusement.

[Rubeus07 (09:09:17 PM): ur fast ~.~ ]

[Dokdoktok (09:09:45 PM): I was excited.]

[Dokdoktok (09:09:58 PM): Is that weird?]

[Rubeus07 (09:10:21 PM): a lil but i dnt mind haha]

[Rubeus07 (09:10:49 PM): wanna show me how xcited u r?]

The excitement must give Dokdoktok a surge of confidence. He hesitates only a second before he sheds his shirt and tosses it away, lifts his hips to slide his boxers down his legs. He holds still soft cock around the middle and it flops over his fist to graze his thigh. Taeyong sighs, smitten at the sight of his treasured friend.

[Rubeus07 (09:13:10 PM): kyaa ill nvr get tired of seeing tht ♥_♥ ]

[Dokdoktok (09:13:37 PM): You do great for my ego.]

[Dokdoktok (09:14:03 PM): So…do I get my surprise now?]

[Rubeus07 (09:14:41 PM): hmmm u hav been gud so far]

Dokdoktok isn’t the patient sort, but that’s fine. Taeyong has waited long as well. He moves offscreen briefly enough to drop his shorts and tug at his new outfit until it’s comfortable. He sits further back on the bed when he returns, one leg folded under the other.

The socks are the biggest attention catcher, garish bright pink up to the ankle then black stripes up the legs and over the toes. They rise above his knee, cute black bowties to finish them off low on his thighs. The heaviness of his sweater drapes somewhat over his panties, but he doesn’t worry about it. The saleswoman couldn’t find him a pair of panties the exact shade to match his socks, the satin material is a tad too powdery a pink, but the lace around the leg holes was too enticing to deny.

Dokdoktok hasn’t commented yet, hasn’t even voluntarily moved. His hands are squeezing his knees in a grip that looks painful and his chest barely rises. If it weren’t for the steady, hypnotic rise of his hardening cock, Taeyong would worry the video feed lagged out.

[Rubeus07 (09:20:22 PM): did i kill ya? T-T ]

Dokdoktok jolts awake in his seat, startled out of the libidinous daze Taeyong’s outfit caged him in. His hands fly over the keyboard.

[Dokdoktok (09:22:41 PM): yes you fucking did]

[Dokdoktok (09:22:49 PM): are thos really panties?]

[Dokdoktok (09:23:02 PM): oh my god that’s insanely erotic]

[Dokdoktok (09:23:14 PM): i almost embarrassed myself this fast]

[Dokdoktok (09:23:25 PM): you really did this for me?]

The cashmere fabric of the socks are soft around Taeyong’s wiggling toes, warm and cozy up to his thighs. The satin panties are naturally cool to the touch, dangerously inviting against the heated flesh of his hard-on. He rubs his feet together, shifts so the panties are snug around his balls. It isn’t a lie if he partially wore this for Dokdoktok, right?

[Rubeus07 (09:24:01 PM): i did promise didnt i?]

[Dokdoktok (09:24:56 PM): i wish i were there to give you a proper thank you. those look perfect on you]

[Dokdoktok (09:25:11 PM): you’re absolutely gorgeous]

Taeyong cheeks dust with pink and he hides shy laughter behind the sleeve covering his fingers even though his face can’t be seen or heard. The praise is genuine, he can see it in how Dokdoktok restrains from touching himself – “embarrassing” himself. The appreciation for his bold act fills him with pride and makes the throbbing inside his panties a little more desperate.

[Rubeus07 (09:25:43 PM): ur sweet *3* feels diff to wear]

[Dokdoktok (09:26:05 PM): you never have before? how do you feel?]

[Rubeus07 (09:26:22 PM): soft and small. sweet]

[Rubeus07 (09:26:34 PM): lik how i thnk a girl feels]

[Dokdoktok (09:26:59 PM): you’re a very pretty one]

Taeyong folds in on himself, surprised by the warmth in his belly from Dokdoktok’s message. The compliment sinks deeper than he would’ve expected.

[Dokdoktok (09:27:27 PM): i liked the way you talked last time]

[Dokdoktok (09:27:38 PM): at the end]

[Rubeus07 (09:28:02 PM): mm? remind me]

Of course Taeyong knows exactly what Dokdoktok is unsubtly asking for, but he likes his playmate to squirm a bit. Dokdoktok’s hands inch away from the keyboard, wringing themselves anxiously for a moment.

[Dokdoktok (09:29:36 PM): it’s nothing, i’m sorry]

[Rubeus07 (09:30:14 PM): cutie u alrdy got me in panties. dnt b shy :P]

[Dokdoktok (09:30:50 PM): …when you wanted me to take care of your pussy]

[Rubeus07 (09:31:27 PM): mhm. nd i stil need u to]

[Rubeus07 (09:31:59 PM): no1 else cld stretch my lil cunt out lik u cld]

Dokdoktok’s hand flies back to his dick, stroking erratically then slowing to a reluctant stop. He must be just keeping himself from tumbling over the edge. Taeyong is considering introducing him to the wonder of cockrings.

[Dokdoktok (09:32:31 PM): i bet you’d feel amazing and tight wrapped around me]

[Dokdoktok (09:32:46 PM): do you get wet easily?]

[Rubeus07 (09:33:06 PM): mhm. whn i imagin geting on my knees fr u]

[Rubeus07 (09:33:23 PM): spreding my legs so u can fck me open]

[Dokdoktok (09:32:52 PM): you really need a fat cock in you, huh? you want mine?]

[Rubeus07 (09:33:18 PM): fck yes pls. alrdy dripping for u]

[Dokdoktok (09:33:35 PM): show me, kitten]

Taeyong moves quickly, before Dokdoktok can backtrack on the cute new nickname. He rolls over to get on all fours and reaches for his toy box. The lube he chooses this time is clear, pineapple-scented. He pushes his panties down until they’re taught around his thighs, his dick hanging ignored between his legs. He places the bottle at the top of his crack and squeezes out a wasteful amount, cool liquid making him shudder when it drizzles perfectly over his pucker. Some drips down to Taeyong’s balls and soaks into his panties before he can slide two fingers up his taint, scooping up the lube and pushing it into his waiting pucker.

He’s already stretched from playing with one of his plugs last night. His finger’s bottom out smoothly with slick gushing out around them. Taeyong can’t use the keyboard from his position, but he can look over his shoulder and see Dokdoktok’s encouragement.

[Dokdoktok (09:39:35 PM): god youre fucking drenched]

[Dokdoktok (09:39:53 PM): all that juice from thinking about my dick inside you]

[Dokdoktok (09:41:17 PM): you need something inside that sweet cunt of yours]

In response, Taeyong spreads his legs apart as much as the panties allow, bows his back so his slippery entrance is closer to the camera. He pulls his fingers out of himself and grapples hurriedly for one of toys, a sizable realistically made dildo. There’s little patience when he lines it up with his wet entrance and plunges it inside, gasping in delight as his muscles squeeze around it.

[Dokdoktok (09:44:14): that’s good, kitten. all the way]

[Dokdoktok (09:44:28): you deserve it]

Taeyong can’t help but agree, he does deserve this. His fights to keep his head from dropping as he fucks himself with the toy. He needs to be able to see Dokdoktok on the laptop screen, those hands gripping tight and unmoving, a hole for Dokdoktok to thrust his hefty cock up into – Dokdoktok is trying to sync his thrusts with the toy’s.

Taeyong groans hard in his chest and shoves the fake cock inside him as far as it will go, barely getting a hand around his own erection before he spurts, lower stomach coiled tight, making a gooey mess of his panties and the sheets. Dokdoktok follows, cumming heavily over his chest and stomach and dripping over his fists. Despite what he swore last time, there’s even more jizz this time.

They clean up and Taeyong slides his panties back up and instead of changing. He grimaces at the remnants of cold lube and cum touching his skin, but he’s not ready to let the illusion end yet. Dokdoktok is fully clothed again and typing a message.

[Dokdoktok (09:56:03 PM): You must be a wiz at gift giving.]

[Rubeus07 (09:56:23 PM): glad u njoyed urself :B ]

[Dokdoktok (09:56:57 PM): I’d kinda like to return the favor.]

[Dokdoktok (09:57:04 PM): If you want, I mean.]

Beyond debuting his outfit, Taeyong hasn’t thought of partnering with Dokdoktok again, but he can’t think of any reason not to. The Pique users he keeps at arm’s length are the jaded older men, the impassionate audience he’s lost interest in. Dokdoktok is fresh and earnest, the two of them follow a similar rhythm. It’s worth developing, even for a little while.

[Rubeus07 (09:57:25 PM): whatcha got in mind?]

[Dokdoktok (09:58:11 PM): Thing is, I’m not really what’d you call adventurous?]

[Rubeus07 (09:58:22 PM): u mean ur vanilla]

[Dokdoktok (09:58:46 PM): I guess that’s a way to put it.]

[Dokdoktok (09:59:09 PM): So if there’s anything you want to see…?]

A smirk bridles on his Taeyong’s face. He’s never had a real-life toy before, certainly not one so large.

[Rubeus07 (09:59:36 PM): hmm ill thnk of sumthng *-*]

Someone softly knocks on his front door just as he closes his laptop. Taeyong frowns at his bedside clock, then out the doorway of his bedroom. At this time in the evening, the only likely visitors he’d get is a neighbor or a murderer. He opens the door and Jaehyun is standing in the way, dressed neatly either to go out or returning home for the night. His hair is fluffy with mousse. Taeyong barely resists petting it.

Jaehyun must’ve been holding in what he came to say for a while, it rushes out of his lips in a garbled clutter. “Heyhow’reyousoIknowit’slatebutthere’sthisthinggoingondowntownandIwaswondering –“

The verbal puke dies off when Jaehyun looks down, only now noticing that Taeyong hadn’t taken off his thigh high socks or pulled his ruffled sweater down to cover the stretch of satin underwear over his hip. Jaehyun’s ears are aflame and his cheeks aren’t much better off. He hasn’t picked up his jaw in a full minute.

Taeyong leans against the doorjamb, enjoying Jaehyun’s evident interest. “Hey. Up here,” he commands, gesturing for Jaehyun to pull his gaze up.

Jaehyun croaks and dashes back toward the stairwell.

 

–––

 

The eastern campus store doesn’t see much business before noon. Taeyong manages the store by himself in the mornings, pointing drowsy students to the refrigerated coffee and ringing up last-minute-before-the-exam replacement calculators.

When there’s no one around, he organizes the bins of cheap ballpoint pens by color and size, disinfects the windows of the refrigerator units, and snags suckers from the snack aisle. There’s usually no one around.

Taeyong leans on the register counter, chin cradled in his hands, eyelids heavy with boredom. His lips are stained dark blue from the blueberry burst flavor sucker his tongue is wrapped around. His nails patter the counter surface, one two three four each time. The door hasn’t opened in about an hour, products are organized as can be, and his side of the internet won’t be alive on his phone until noon.

He looks down at his nails, miffed at the slipshod artistry on this small finger. Over the weekend, he bought a nail art kit from the mall and spent hours scouring through do-it-yourself nail design videos, trying and failing and trying again with even the basic stencils. His fingers are cramped, nail polish residue bleeding over his cuticles where he missed cleaning. He needs more practice.

He kept to simple designs to avoid overwhelming himself. The pink and black motif is his favorite, but he’s added a sparkling dark violet polish he spied while shopping through the make-up section. There’s a skull on his thumb, a pink heart on his forefinger, diagonally dual-toned pink and violet on his middle, a pair of lips on his ring finger, and a flower on his small finger. He hadn’t realized before he started how complicated the petals would be to copy, especially on his shortest nail, but he managed to mirror the patterns on both hands and his toes.

What started as an experiment is becoming an adventure.

In the middle of Taeyong’s daydreaming, the store’s front door opens. A break from the monotony is usually welcome, but Taeyong’s lab partner walks inside and Taeyong kind of regrets not locking the door. The intruder is scanning the room with interest, interest that immediately sours when he sees Taeyong behind the register. The disappointment is mutual.

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for eating on the job?”

Taeyong’s teeth clench around his candy. One of his eyes squints, his contempt a roiling miasma. This man questioning when and where he gets to enjoy his sweets is heresy to everything Taeyong believes in. “Do you need help finding the door?”

His lab partner mutters under his breath, the same way as when they’re in class and Taeyong messes up measurements during an experiment. It’s never incentive enough for him to find a new table, for whatever reason. “Could you just tell me where I can find whoever’s in charge?”

With deliberate languor, Taeyong pulls the sucker out of his mouth after suckling obnoxiously loud. He smacks his lips and licks the blue flavor away. “Yo,” he answers, pointing the sucker at himself.

It’s not what his lab partner wants to hear. His shoulders and face fall in tandem but he picks them up, huffing his determination. There’s a stack of flyers in his hand Taeyong hadn’t noticed until he’s given one. “I’d like to post a flyer up here, somewhere people will see it as soon as they walk in. The foreign language department is hosting a multi-cultural fair in front of the arts building to fundraise…”

By routine, Taeyong spaces out in the middle of his lab partner’s pitch, his soft voice making for admittedly pleasant ambience. Taeyong is well aware his lab partner is involved in all sorts of clubs and organizations and coalitions, he’s seen him bustle around campus with petitions or surveys or flyers. Taeyong wasn’t interested then, isn’t now.

“You can take the support beam.” Taeyong interrupts and points past the other man at the column holding the tiny shop up. “That tutoring ad’s old anyway.”

His lab partner isn’t checking the column, his focus fully on Taeyong’s colorful nails. They’ve caught attention from other customers, bewildered stares and strained silence when he hands back their change. They’re better reactions than Taeyong could’ve asked for.

His lab partner has never understood the term silence. “You should probably redo the pinky nail, you know.”

Taeyong scowls and hides his hands behind the register with the rest of his pride. “You should probably get out before I change my mind, y’know.”

The triumphant smile on his lab partner’s face lasts until he leaves. Irritation keeps Taeyong occupied until noon.

When he’s home, Taeyong busies himself until the late evening. He finishes up leftover Japanese poetry assignments, mails a birthday card to his aunt, cleans the bathroom and the kitchen. He needs to lug the dusty old recliner he brought from home to make room for a new one, so he calls Jaehyun for help. The revealing tank top Jaehyun is wearing smells fresh from the laundry, but he doesn’t comment and lets Jaehyun haul it down to the dumpster. Jaehyun gets another piece of taffy as payment.

Later in the evening, Taeyong logs on to Pique and is pleased to see Dokdoktok already online. They don’t have set dates to meet online, but in the few times they’ve played together Dokdoktok has never been on before nine or after midnight.

Since Dokdoktok gave him free reign to request as he pleased, Taeyong is eager for the nights to come. Two days ago, he got to enjoy a blue vibrating cockring tightened around the base of Dokdoktok’s cock, precum spurting from the tip as Dokdoktok stroked it frantically, erratically, pleading with Taeyong to let him remove the ring.

A week before then, Dokdoktok fingered himself on camera – his first time, so he timidly messaged – and Taeyong holds that image sacred; Dokdoktok’s legs hiked over the armrests, massive cock snug against his stomach and rounds balls drooping low, long fingers hesitantly prodding into himself. Taeyong typed a litany of filth to him, detailing how his mouth would leave sticky lipgloss prints as he kissed down Dokdoktok’s length to relax him, promising the smooth nylon of his fishnet tights would rub against Dokdoktok’s thighs when Taeyong fucked him into the seat. He hadn’t lasted half an hour.

Taeyong’s interest in the rest of Pique’s userbase plummets without him realizing. If Dokdoktok isn’t online, there’s no reason for Taeyong to be either. Given Dokdoktok’s punctuality for requesting permission into Taeyong’s live shows, the sense of harmony between them isn’t unrequited.

Tonight, Dokdoktok is showing him a well-worn transparent onahole, the opening molded to resemble a delicate pair of pussy lips. Taeyong remarks in jest on Dokdoktok’s choice of molding and Dokdoktok scratches his arm, seeming uncomfortable.

[Dokdoktok (10:13:46 PM): I actually haven’t used it in a while.]

[Dokdoktok (10:14:09 PM): I kept thinking of someone I know whenever I did. It felt awkward.]

[Rubeus07 (10:14:32 PM): u dnt gotta explain. i was jk]

[Rubeus07 (10:14:58 PM): i dnt mind if u pretnd its me ]

[Dokdoktok (10:15:22 PM): I was hoping to do just that.]

Dokdoktok grabs a bottle of lube and squeezes it into his palm. It doesn’t look like the flavored variety, yet still Taeyong salivates at the vision of Dokdoktok’s thickness glistening from tip to base. Dokdoktok lowers the onahole’s opening over the tip of himself, the toy’s lip part to accommodate him. It’s not the right size, Taeyong realizes with a gleeful shiver. Dokdoktok has to force himself in, stretch the toy to its limit, and when he bottoms out there’s still a few inches left untouched.

[Rubeus07 (10:18:19 PM): im so fkin jealus rite now]

[Dokdoktok (10:18:54 PM): if it makes you feel better i wish it were you too]

[Dokdoktok (10:19:16 PM): youd be nice and easy after keeping that plug in you]

Taeyong grins and leans back on the bed with spread legs. He knows Dokdoktok’s been aching to see it again, the plug stuffed up his ass with a fluffy cat’s tail attached to it. He couldn’t help buying it now that Dokdoktok’s taken to calling him “kitten.” On cue, Dokdoktok fucks into his toy with added vigor, hips lifting from his chair.

[Rubeus07 (10:19:47 PM): u thnk its enuf? mite need u to strch me out a lil mor]

Taeyong pulls away from the keyboard to grasp the snowy white tail in his hands. It tugs slightly at his rim, makes him gasp slightly. He holds it up for Dokdoktok to see clearly, wrapping it around his own cock and thrusts into it.

Something Taeyong does must be wrong. Dokdoktok pauses entirely, his grip around the onahole going lax. Taeyong’s grin drops and he leans back in, tapping out a quick message to check the air. It’s several minutes before Dokdoktok replies.

[Dokdoktok (10:24:31 PM): Sorry, I spaced out.]

[Rubeus07 (10:25:07 PM): u sure ur ok? we can call it early u kno]

[Dokdoktok (10:26:28 PM): No, I promise I’m fine.]

[Dokdoktok (10:26:42 PM): I’d much rather we focus on you, kitten.]

Something he did rattled Dokdoktok, that inkling doesn’t dissipate, but Taeyong’s horniness conquers his curiosity. They finish off like normal, Dokdoktok’s toy overflowing with spunk and dripping down his length, Taeyong’s hand stalling the thrusting plug inside him when he spurts over his thighs.

Taeyong forgets the incident that night, and it comes back a week later.

To the right of his table, there’s a girl sitting alone trapped in a swamp of crinkled notebook paper and viciously highlighted textbooks. She’s unremarkable, Taeyong wouldn’t take note of her in any other case, but she’s been clicking the top of her pen for the last ten minutes –

Click-click! Click-click! Click-click!

Taeyong scrubs a regretful hand over the fatigue wrinkled over his face. It was mistake coming to the library or any public spot whatsoever to tackle last-minute studying for midterms. The headache plaguing him earlier fooled him into abandoning the bright screen of his laptop for the harmless text of encyclopedias and nonfiction literature, but he’s already mourning the comfort of being at home, alone, in deafening silence with a bag of extra-puffy marshmallows.

Click-click! Click-click!

It’s the smaller things that grate worst on his nerves. Taeyong grumbles and shuts the books in front of him, starting to gather and stuff his study materials into his backpack so he can retreat into hermitic solitude at home. The only doubt he has is with his memory of ancient western civilization, but a few hours rereading his notes in the dark should be enough for him to skate by with a passing mark.

Somehow, even the frumpy girl’s obnoxious clicking isn’t the least appealing sound in the world. Someone softly clears their throat above him.

“Is it all right if I sit here?”

Taeyong glances up, the frown on his face more a reflex than conscience effort. His lab partner is on the other side of the table, his countenance even more exhausted than Taeyong’s. The large backpack he’s carrying hunches him over and there are stacked notebooks under his arm, a plastic-wrapped plate held in his other hand. His gaze shifts around the room to check for other vacant tables, but there never are during exam season.

Taeyong still plans on leaving, but he can’t possibly pass up a timely chance to be a dick. He takes out one of the notebooks he just packed away and flips it open to a random page, dull eyes never leaving his lab partner’s. “Dunno. Kind of occupied here.”

His lab partner’s eyes narrow. “Are we really doing this?”

Taeyong smirks and readies for a mocking reply, but a pleasant aroma quiets him. He sniffs the air ravenously, brow pinched in focus, and zeroes in on the plate in his lab partner’s hand. There’s no mistaking the wisps of heavenly splendor tickling his nose.

“Are those cookies?”

His lab partner blinks at him, then down at the plate. “Oh, yeah. Apple cinnamon. I made some as snacks for my study group, but most of them canceled at the –“

“Gimme.” Taeyong makes the demand with outstretched hands, fingers curling for the plate just out of his grasp.

“I guess that means I’m allowed.” There’s humor in his lab partner’s smile when he sets the plate down between them. Taeyong doesn’t notice it, his eyes wide and sparkling at the sugary treats neatly ringed over the plate’s surface. He peels the plastic away and snatches one greedily.

“Thanks, uh…you,” Taeyong mumbles as an after-thought before he takes a large bite of his cookie. They’re soft-baked with bits of apple in the dough and the cinnamon bursts on his tongue. He would never willingly compliment anything made by his lab partner’s hand, but the pitchy squeak of delight he lets out kind of does him in.

“I have a name, you know. Dongyoung?”

Taeyong makes a garbled noise of displeasure. He’s gone so long without remembering Dongyoung’s name only to be conned by a plate of delicious snacks.

“I should’ve guessed sweets are all it takes to make you be nice,” Dongyoung says, mostly to himself. He seems entertained, but Taeyong is too busy to respond properly.

Dongyoung takes out his laptop and the table falls quiet, Dongyoung studying and Taeyong delaying his exit to make a dent in the batch of treats. It’s the longest they’ve sat together without animosity bubbling over the surface. Taeyong is horrified to realize he doesn’t mind it, but another cookie soothes his ire.

A little later, Dongyoung blindly reaches to snag a cookie for himself and his fingers hit tiny crumbs. He frowns and looks over his screen, his jaw dropping when he sees only four cookies left. “You…you took that many? It hasn’t even been half an hour.”

Taeyong’s eyes are large and innocent, one cheek filled with food. “Ai dndt ee brefush,” he explains around his mouthful.

“You ate like ten of them!” Dongyoung looks like he wants to scold more. He exhales deeply and takes a cookie, sinking back into his seat. “Eating that much sugar at once isn’t healthy, you know.”

Dongyoung’s takes a bite and starts to speak, but a fit of choking interrupts him. He coughs into his hand reaches for a bottle inside his bag, taking a healthy swig of water to clear his throat. Taeyong’s chewing slows to a stop, his brain trying to decode why this scene is so strangely familiar.

The bottle Dongyoung is drinking from, it’s green with a dandelion printed on the side.

Click-click! Click-click!

Taeyong swallows thickly. His appetite fades and he drops the rest of his cookie back in the plate. Surely, surely this is a coincidence, but he has to be certain. His words are loud in his own ears.

“Pink socks.”

Dongyoung’s expression starts out puzzled, then his eyes round out and his mouth parts in a startled gasp. He doesn’t get a chance to gather his things before Taeyong rises out of his seat and drags him by the sleeve out of the library.

“This is insane.” They’re at a secluded side of the building now. Taeyong’s foot is tapping an agitated beat on the sidewalk. “A billion people on the internet and it just had to be you, huh?”

Dongyoung frowns where he’s toying with the handle on a parking meter. “Back to your charming self already, I see.”

“The hell’re you doing on that site anyway? Shouldn’t you be putting around playing errand boy for…student government or something?”

“I’ll use it if I want. It’s not like we aren’t there for the same thing.” Dongyoung glances at Taeyong from the corner of his eyes and his cheeks turn to cherries. “And I’m treasurer, not an errand boy. The annual budget for campus clubs was distributed in the second week of – wait, you know I’m on the SGA board?” He sounds surprised, maybe even a little pleased.

Taeyong sticks his pinky finger into his ear, wondering how far he’ll have to dig to unlearn everything he just heard. “I didn’t, actually.”

Dongyoung’s smile dies before it can live. “Ugh, right. Well, I wasn’t really looking for that site specifically. I just wanted something different to…uh, work with. Stress relief, you know?”

Taeyong does know, having used Pique as temporary escape for all of his young adulthood. Dongyoung is no different from the average user. “Okay, you know what? This isn’t a big deal.” Taeyong drops the hostility for once and pats Dongyoung’s shoulder. “It was a mistake. We both said…uh, did some things and it’s in the past. We can forget it happened. I mean, not like we would’ve done all that if we knew it was us, yeah?”

It was meant as a joke, Taeyong even chuckles to make that clear, but Dongyoung doesn’t laugh. His eyes cut away and he scuffs the sole of his shoe into the ground, he fidgets, mute and doused in guilt’s caustic stench. Taeyong’s eyes narrow. “You – did you…did you know it was me?”

Dongyoung jumps away from Taeyong, putting the parking meter between them. “No! I – well, I mean, not at first but it was – you painted your nails and it was kind of hard not to connect the dots. That’s not my fault!”

Taeyong looks down at his nails, the polished chipped on at least three of them by now. He can admit himself somewhat responsible for the loss anonymity, except Dongyoung’s excuse doesn’t actually clear him. “I painted my nails the weekend before last. We met up online twice since then.”

Dongyoung scratches the back of his head. His mouth opens and closes as he flounders for defense. “Ah. Did we?”

“Why the hell’d you keep this going if you knew it was me?!” Taeyong slaps at Dongyoung’s shoulder, the same one he patted in blind solidarity only a minute ago.

Dongyoung flinches away. “I – I didn’t want it to stop!” Taeyong’s assault on his shoulder stops and Dongyoung straightens again. “I liked it, okay? The things you did, the things you asked me to do, it was…exciting. If you knew it was me on the other side, you would’ve ended it.”

“So what if I did? There’s a thousand other people on that site who’re into the same shit as me. You could’ve done that with anyone.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been you!” The color on Dongyoung’s cheeks becomes a full-faced flush, from the tips of his ears down into the collar of his button-up. “The first time I saw ‘Rubeus’ online, he kind of…reminded me of you. Body-wise. And, um…it made it easier to think of – w-well, because – you see, for a while I’ve…and you’re just so, so…ahem.”

Dongyoung’s rambling never comes close to intelligible. Taeyong’s expression is blank watching Dongyoung sputter and his hands try to explicate what his mouth can’t. He looks so much like a tongue-tied teenager in front of his crush, and that’s how Taeyong figures him out. “You’re kidding me.”

Dongyoung closes his mouth again. He’s staring resolutely at the motorcycle graphic on Taeyong’s t-shirt.

“For how long?”

“Um. Always?”

Taeyong quirks a single eyebrow. “You got me in trouble with the campus police.”

“You were smoking behind the science building! That’s a restricted area.” Dongyoung has that stern frown on his face, the same righteous front he uses whenever he’s reprimanding Taeyong. “The biology department keeps a lot of their experiments in the storage annex. You could’ve started a chemical fire if your cigarette butt ended up in the wrong place. Besides, smoking’s bad for you anyway. I’m not sorry.”

Taeyong is loath to admit Dongyoung’s justification is solid. If he really thinks on it, Dongyoung’s meddling has always been to keep Taeyong out of trouble, although in an irritating way. It’s hard to dislike someone who’s looking out for him, Taeyong doesn’t have many people around for that. The lingering resentment over their first meeting diminishes by the second. “Ugh, well – couldn’t you’ve just talked to me instead of ratting me out?”

“Uh, well, I guess was scared?” Dongyoung admits meekly. “You’re good-looking and you never really talk to anyone. It’s kind of intimidating.”

“You could’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

“You don’t know that! But…I guess I could’ve tried. I can apologize for that.”

“So…are you still scared of me?”

Dongyoung jolts when Taeyong’s hand fists into the front of his shirt. Taeyong pushes and Dongyoung follows without question, his back hits the side of the building and Taeyong moves in closer still. He hooks two fingers into Dongyoung’s collar and tugs, making Dongyoung’s back curve down to his height. His arms snake around Dongyoung’s neck, their mouths close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“Now that I know it’s you, I gotta say I’m skeptical.” Taeyong speaks with his mouth close to Dongyoung’s chin, their eyes tethered. “How honest were you online?”

Dongyoung clears his throat nervously. “Honest. Very, very honest.”

“Really? Does Good-Boy Dongyoung have a corrupted side to him?” Taeyong asks, lips sidled to the shell of Dongyoung’s ear. “Does he still think about fucking my cute lil’ pu –“

“Don’t! Don’t say that here!” Dongyoung treats Taeyong like fire, pushing at Taeyong’s hips to separate their bodies, angling his head away so Taeyong’s lips don’t tease his ear. “I – I still have to use the library!”

The Dongyoung online and the Dongyoung in front of him are definitely one in the same. Taeyong chuckles, delighted, and backs away a polite distance. “I’ll say it when we’re alone, then. If you’re interested.”

Dongyoung inhales sharply. “Wait. Seriously?”

Taeyong shrugs. “I like what we did too, and I guess you’re not so bad when you’re not being a pain in the ass.” Dongyoung starts to protest but Taeyong continues. “No good reason to end it, unless you’re all talk online.”

“Yeah. Yes! I totally agree.” Dongyoung nods with emphatic determination. “I won’t disappoint.”

“Good boy,” Taeyong grins and pats Dongyoung’s chest. “You’ll be fun.

“Oh, and I’m taking the rest of the cookies.”

 

–––

 

Two years ago when Taeyong was a freshman, a senior sitting next to him in class asked for a piece of gum. It was mango-flavored, imported straight from the Philippines, Taeyong shouldn’t have considered sharing, but Choi Minho’s charming smile was an adversary on its own. Taeyong gave him a piece and Minho thanked him.

They made light conversation sometimes, nodded when they saw each other around campus, borrowed notes when one of them couldn’t make it to class. They studied together in a quiet bakery and the topic shifted to how astounded Minho was that someone with Taeyong’s face was unattached. It was only a catalyst, but it led to Taeyong sandwiched between Minho and his mattress in the middle of the night.

Minho made it clear there was no chance of a relationship. He was an athlete on a rigid scholarship, he was friends with everyone he met and worked with his father on the outskirts of the city. He was busy, Taeyong knew that when he agreed, but knowing didn’t stop Taeyong’s mood from souring when Minho couldn’t meet up, when he saw Minho hanging out with other students. It wasn’t affection or even friendship, but with Yuta taken by a school in Osaka the summer prior, Minho was the only company Taeyong kept his freshman year.

Taeyong considered his isolation a conscious effort, but when his stomach dropped after hearing of Minho’s graduation, he doubted himself.

The concept of having a fuckbuddy isn’t new to him, but the buddy half of could use some development. He ponders it on Saturday night while he readies for Dongyoung.

Planning an outfit for a quick romp seems silly, Taeyong realized this while he held different skirts up to his waist the night before, but he has a standard to live up to. Rubeus07 is confident and playful, daring and seductive. It’s a mask Taeyong’s worn only with his face obscured. He was never bold with Minho – contrary to the wolf Minho was the in competitive swimming pool, he was a lamb in bed and Taeyong was too content to oppose it. Taeyong wants to stand tall on the pedestal Dongyoung held Rubeus07 on. He wants to become the fantasy he masquerades as online.

For Dongyoung, that fantasy is sheer white stocking up to Taeyong’s mid-thigh held up by suspenders attached to a lacy garter belt, a pleated black skirt with white silhouetted cats walking along the bottom hem, and a soft white sweater that tickles the tips of his fingers. His lips are shiny with strawberry gloss, pinker than normal. It takes several reapplications for him to stop licking the stickiness away.

This should be enough, but Taeyong doesn’t do things halfway. He ordered a pair of cat-tailed plugs online, the fluffier white one Dongyoung’s already seen, and the sleeker black one he has out now. He tugs his skirt up, no underwear to cover him, and lies back on his bed with knees curled in, slick fingers drilling into his hole. Once he’s loose enough, he grabs a bear-shaped bottle and pushes the opening in past his rim, squeezing a generous amount of honey-scented lube into himself. The plug is stuffed inside right after to keep any from leaking.

Dongyoung texts him when he’s at the door rather than knocking – Taeyong can’t risk his neighbors seeing him with a tail, especially poor Jaehyun. Dongyoung’s hands are fidgeting in his pockets when Taeyong opens the door. He’s put effort into looking casual, the trademark button-up and slacks are replaced by a polo shirt and jeans and his brown hair is neater than the usual frazzled mop.

“Hey, I didn’t know if I should parrrrgfh…” Dongyoung’s mouth falls slack as his gaze travels down Taeyong’s outfit. The skirt traps him most. “Oh.”

“Forget how to say hello again?” Taeyong smiles when Dongyoung meets his eyes, flustered. He backs inside and Dongyoung follows on auto-pilot.

“I’m sorry, it’s just –“ Dongyoung stumbles trying to close the door, kick off his shoes and sneak peeks at Taeyong all at once. The attention make Taeyong’s dick just a little happier. “I’m…nervous and you, um, skirt. And you have a tail again.”

Taeyong tilts his head. “Of course I do.” He slides his hands from Dongyoung’s chest up around his shoulders, fingernails drawing up and down the back of his neck. Dongyoung’s hands awkwardly hover over Taeyong’s hips, suspended in uncertainty, and his breaths come out shorter than before. “I’m your kitten, aren’t I?”

Dongyoung isn’t so nervous when he’s been thoroughly goaded. He grasps Taeyong’s waist, hesitantly then firmly, and lifts Taeyong up until their mouths meet. Taeyong balances on the tip of one foot to match Dongyoung’s height, the other leg folded back. Their bodies press together from chest to hip. Taeyong soaks in the heat from Dongyoung’s skin.

Taeyong doesn’t let Dongyoung keep the fervor between them chaste, nibbling and licking at Dongyoung’s bottom lip until Dongyoung relents. Taeyong frames Dongyoung’s face in his hands and drags Dongyoung in, their tongues slide and roll together. Dongyoung gets a taste of the strawberry on Taeyong’s reddening lips and whimpers, fingers tightening in Taeyong’s sweater when Taeyong suckles around his tongue. Every reaction makes Taeyong giddy and he chuckles into Dongyoung’s mouth.

Dongyoung is still searching for his mouth when Taeyong pulls back and laps away the spit strung between their lips. “Back there,” he says and tilts his head to the open door behind him. Dongyoung glances over and swiftly hauls Taeyong up with a strong grip underneath his thighs. The same eager hands are toying with the suspender slings as Dongyoung carries Taeyong to his room.

When they’re at the edge of the bed, Dongyoung lies Taeyong down and climbs above him with his elbows above Taeyong’s shoulders. Taeyong traps him, legs locked around his waist and fingers curling in his silken brown hair, and he reattaches their mouths with hunger. Dongyoung’s a bit too tall, their hips don’t quite meet when Taeyong rolls his up. His hard-on grinds into Dongyoung’s lower stomach and Dongyoung gasps, parting their kiss so he can rut against Taeyong’s properly.

Even through unnecessary layers of clothing Taeyong can feel how thick Dongyoung, his bulge dwarfing the erection beneath Taeyong’s skirt. Taeyong bites his lip when Dongyoung's thickness grinds into the crook of his thigh and pelvis, the memories of Dokdoktok’s video feed drowning him in anticipation.

“Stand up,” he orders, interrupting Dongyoung’s quest for friction. He’s looking at Taeyong with concern, likely thinking he did something inappropriate. “What’s that face for? Stand up.” Taeyong adds a smack to Dongyoung’s rear to get him moving.

Dongyoung climbs off the bed and Taeyong follows, falls to his knees with his fingers snagged in the waistband of Dongyoung’s underwear. “Oh, y-you don’t have to –“

“Cute. He thinks I’m doing this for him,” Taeyong murmurs as he unzips Dongyoung’s jeans. Dongyoung huffs, slighted, but that’s good. He’s more comfortable when they banter. Taeyong wants him comfortable.

Seeing it online can’t compare to seeing it in-person, Taeyong knew that from the beginning. He drags Dongyoung’s bottoms down and his heart jumps in his ribcage. Dongyoung’s majesty flops out and batters Taeyong’s nose, bobbing heavy and excited and curved just slightly upward, veins scattered under velvet skin that’s too red for Dongyoung’s pallor. For his own benefit, Taeyong has to reiterate that Dongyoung is thick, his fingertips struggle to meet when he reverently circles them around Dongyoung’s length.

All his life, Taeyong doubted the notion of “love at first sight.” What a fool he was.

The gloss on his lips is almost gone, Dongyoung’s doing. There’s residue enough for Taeyong to lock eyes with Dongyoung, so tall above him, and plant a sweet kiss near the root of his dick. The pink stain glimmers in the light, shaped perfect like Taeyong’s lips. Dongyoung shudders from his neck down to his toes, “Jesus…”

There’s a lot to work with, so much ground to cover. Taeyong drags his tongue along the underside and teases the sensitive nub under the crown with the tip of his tongue. He suckles kisses down one side and buries his nose in Dongyoung’s short hair to lap into the crook of his thigh. He cradles Dongyoung’s heavy ballsack in his palm, licks around each nut with dedication until they’re shiny with saliva, then takes both into his mouth.

It must be Dongyoung’s first time getting blown – Taeyong kind of hopes it is. He watches Taeyong slobber on his balls with unwavering focus, but his hands are politely, stubbornly at his side, clenching and unclenching without a purpose. Taeyong has to seize one of them and place it atop his head. Dongyoung is reluctant but his fingers tangle in Taeyong’s bubblegum hair, soothes his scalp. It spurs Taeyong on more.

Precum seeps from the slit of Dongyoung’s cock, Taeyong gathers it on the tip of his tongue and tightens his lips around the head. There’s no chance he’ll be able to take it all, the angle with him kneeling is all wrong and he probably can’t tempt Dongyoung into fucking his throat – not yet. He has to settle for half, lips stretched thin around Dongyoung’s girth, tongue curling underneath. Dongyoung’s fingers tighten in his hair and Taeyong groans. One hand is stroking the inches he can’t fit into his mouth, the other dropping to palm himself over his skirt. If he’s not careful he’ll cum just from the warm weight on his tongue, the saltiness dripping freely from Dongyoung’s cockhead.

“Wait, wait, hold on.” Dongyoung chokes and pulls out of Taeyong’s sinful mouth, catching the breath he lost the instant Taeyong touched him. “I don’t…want to embarrass myself.” A familiar line that makes Taeyong smirk.

“Smart thinking.” Taeyong releases Dongyoung’s cock and trails his hand underneath Dongyoung’s shirt, scraping the soft skin there with his fingernails. “I’d rather you bust your load somewhere else.”

“Hm? Where’s that, kitten?”

Taeyong’s dick throbs at the nickname. He stands and turns to lean over the mattress, one knee folded on the edge and one arm holding up his weight. He reaches for the hem of his skirt and hikes it up to his lower back, baring the pristine white suspenders stretched over curve of his ass, the dainty garter belt riding up underneath his sweater and framing his waist, the soft black tail emerging from the cleft of his ass and hanging down to his knees.

Warm palms grope Taeyong’s bare ass, thumbs hook into the suspenders and snap them against Taeyong’s flesh. Taeyong grunts appreciatively. “You’re too fucking much for me, I swear,” Dongyoung breathes as he migrates down to the stockings, pinching the smooth nylon behind Taeyong’s thighs, digging his fingertips into the sensitive spots along Taeyong’s inner thighs. “These are amazing. So pretty.”

“You’re supposed to be saying that about me,” Taeyong grouses and wiggles his rear invitingly. He didn’t wear all this for the stockings to get the compliments.”

Dongyoung laughs. “You already know I think you’re gorgeous.” He leans over Taeyong’s bent form, chest flush to Taeyong’s back and an arm around Taeyong’s middle. His dick rests dauntingly above the swell of Taeyong’s ass and rubs against the garter belt. “You want to hear me say it?”

“Mhm,” Taeyong nods without shame and grinds back against Dongyoung’s dick. “Tell me.”

Dongyoung hisses and his arm tightens. “You’re the most beautiful thing on this planet, Taeyong.” Hot breath teases the shell of Taeyong’s ear, sweet words churn in the depths of his abdomen. “My pretty, pretty girl.”

Taeyong bites his bottom lip and rolls his hips for phantom friction. “Fuck me,” he rasps, throaty with need. “Fuck me, please.”

The plug shifts inside him when Dongyoung’s grabs it, toying with it rather than removing it. “I’ll miss this look,” Dongyoung laments, shallowly thrusting the plug inside to the rhythm of Taeyong’s whines. He tugs it out and lube gushes from Taeyong’s loosened pucker. Dongyoung straightens to watch it dribble down Taeyong’s cleft, mesmerized. “Look at this. You’re already soaked?”

Taeyong drops to his elbows and bows his back, spreading himself lewdly. “Was thinking about you, thinking about you fucking me up.”

Dongyoung draws his fingers up Taeyong’s taint, gathering spilt slickness and stuffing it past Taeyong’s rim. Two long fingers slide in smoothly down to the knuckles and Dongyoung exhales loudly. “Your pussy’s getting ready for me, isn’t it?”

Taeyong only barely resists pushing back on Dongyoung’s hand. His stiff cock hangs hard between his legs and preleak stains the sheets below him. “Been ready since I first saw your cock.”

In a flash, Taeyong is tossed back on the bed and a fully nude Dongyoung is kneeling between his spread legs. It doesn’t seem to bother him that Taeyong hasn’t taken off anything. His hands sneak under Taeyong’s sweater, caressing his burning skin and thumbing over his attentive nipples.

It’s taking too long. Taeyong noises his impatience and snakes his legs painfully tight around Dongyoung’s waist until Dongyoung yelps. “Right, sorry,” Dongyoung apologizes with an amused smile. He lifts one of Taeyong’s legs over his shoulder and steadies his cock, the blunt tip prodding into Taeyong’s leaking entrance. Taeyong’s chest seizes up and his eyes clench, the delicious sting of being stretched over a huge cock rolling up his spine.

Dongyoung pauses when he sees Taeyong’s face but Taeyong digs his foot into Dongyoung’s lower back. “All – ah! – all the way in,” he demands, breathless. “Fucking…break me.”

The heat squeezing Dongyoung’s cockhead is too enticing. He shudders and sinks in deeper, slick squelching around the enormous intrusion and out of Taeyong’s straining pucker. Taeyong feels so full already, the mounting pressure bringing tears to his eyes. He covers his mouth with his sleeve, bites into a wad of fabric to muffle his pained groans. He needs to have every inch Dongyoung inside him.

Warm balls press against Taeyong’s ass as Dongyoung finally bottoms out, Dongyoung has to lean over Taeyong’s body to catch his breath. Taeyong aches and his erection has wilted under his skirt from the sting, but he’s never felt more euphoric than with his body molded lovingly around Dongyoung. He can feel every throb and twitch, he can feel his weakened muscles around thickness making a home inside him. He wants to be the perfect fit for Dongyoung every time.

Dongyoung moves without warning, shallow rolls of his hips at first then harder thrusts that wrack Taeyong’s body. He’s nuzzling his cheek against the stocking covering the leg hooked over his shoulder, licking and nibbling the nylon at Taeyong’s inner knee. When he starts stretching it between his teeth, Taeyong hits his chest. “Don’t…rip,” he warns, breath labored by Dongyoung’s movements.

“I’ll replace them,” Dongyoung promises and bites harder, tearing a hole through the fabric and scraping Taeyong skin. Taeyong tries to scowl, but Dongyoung is incited and bites even more holes around Taeyong’s thigh. His hips are moving faster, vicious pounding that melts Taeyong into the mattress and wipes every hostile thought from his mind.

Dongyoung supports himself on one arm and reaches for Taeyong’s renewed stiffness, but Taeyong brushes his hand away. “No. Keep going – in me,” is his answer to Dongyoung’s puzzled face. If he’s going to cum, it’ll be just from Dongyoung’s cock or not at all.

Taeyong isn’t surprised when Dongyoung’s thrusts soon begin to falter and his eyes flutter shut, a whispered moan sung from his lips. Liquid heat floods Taeyong to the brim, Dongyoung shooting jizz deep and plentiful inside him. The rewarding sensation alone nearly forces Taeyong over the edge.

Dongyoung is panting bodily with his head hanging low, bangs covering his eyes. Taeyong watches him curiously. He hasn’t made a move to pull out, fully buried in Taeyong’s cum-logged hole. As much as Taeyong doesn’t mind waiting for him to recover, it’s taking longer than it should and Taeyong really needs to finish himself off with one of his toys.

He starts to say something until Dongyoung speaks first. “Can I…again? Now?”

Taeyong blinks widely. “Uh, what does that mean? Can you – wait, you mean you’re – already?”

Dongyoung’s eyes are clouded with startling ferocity. Taeyong shivers. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Taeyong is too dumbfounded to refuse. The night already exceeded any expectation, a spontaneous second wind is greedy even for his fantasies. Dongyoung releases Taeyong’s leg and winds his arms around Taeyong’s back to haul him up. Dongyoung’s half-hard cock slips out, slimy with seed and lube, and Taeyong clenches desperately to hold the warmth inside. His hole gapes too widely and his muscles are lax from a thorough fucking, some trickles down his thigh anyway.

Dongyoung sits at the edge of the bed and Taeyong stands on wobbling limbs, facing away with his legs straddling Dongyoung’s thighs. He braces his palms on Dongyong’s knees and sinks down, Dongyoung holding his cock steady for Taeyong to spear himself on. The stretch in isn’t as dizzying as the first time, but Taeyong still trembles with pleasure when he’s wrapped around the wide root of Dongyoung’s cock.

“I love how you respond, pretty girl.” Dongyoung comments leaves a kiss on the back of Taeyong’s neck. The sweater is becoming unbearable with the heat between their bodies, but Taeyong doesn’t remove it. “You’re the perfect match for me, you know?”

Taeyong heartily agrees, but he doesn’t give Dongyoung the satisfaction of hearing it. “You’re talking,” he says instead and rocks back against Dongyoung’s hips. Catching the hint, Dongyoung grabs underneath Taeyong’s thighs and lifts them, folding Taeyong in half so his knees meet his shoulders and his clothed feet dangle in the air. Taeyong’s arms flail without anything to grab. “H-hey, I don’t bend like – guh!”

A stronger man than he appears, Dongyoung raises Taeyong up until half his girth is buried, then he drops him down harshly. His cock punches deep into Taeyong, pitchy noises spew from Taeyong’s throat. “I love how light you are, too,” he admits and laughs when Taeyong reddens and covers his mouth.

There’s no holding the sounds back when Dongyoung hefts him up again and again. The angle his cock slides in at is unforgiving, grinding into Taeyong perfectly and knocking the air from his lungs. His ass bounces in Dongyoung’s lap loudly, wantonly, his sensitive cock stainss his skirt with precum. Taeyong bunches the skirt so he can see everything, see Dongyoung’s large cock pummeling his puffy rim without mercy, see his own smaller boned-up cock flop around and spit up precum generously.

“You see how well you fit me?” Dongyoung questions once Taeyong’s gotten an eyeful, driving hard up into him to get his attention. “See how much your sweet cunt wanted this?”

Taeyong moans and nods thoughtlessly – how could he not? He’s never felt so rewarded than with Dongyoung overstuffing him. “Needed…needed it so much,” he pants and his head falls back on Dongyoung’s shoulder. His hand slides down his thigh past his cock, feeling along his swollen, cum-drenched rim. “Needed your fat cock ruining my pussy.”

Dongyoung grunts and his grip becomes bruising. “That’s right, my girl needed my cock.” he says and Taeyong can only nod, losing the ability to do anything else the faster he bounces in Dongyoung’s lap. “Never happy unless she’s bloated with my cum, is she?”

“Only yours, o-only – “ Taeyong babbling cuts off. His stomach tenses, jumps, and he explodes, ropes of cum spattering his floor and drooling down his length. His body slumps back against Dongyoung once he’s spent, letting Dongyoung ride out the last of his energy before he pumps another load into Taeyong’s ass.

Exhaustion weighs them down but Taeyong refuses to stay sticky for a second longer. He takes the bathroom to clean off and Dongyoung snorts at the limp he tries to hide. When he comes back in a tank top and fluffy pink pajama pants, Dongyoung is lounging on the bed in his his boxers, hands cradling his head. Taeyong frowns.

“Is cuddling part of the deal?” Dongyoung asks when Taeyong approaches the cleaner side of the bed. “Can we make it part of the deal?”

“We can make you getting the hell out part of the deal,” Taeyong grumbles and lies down, picking the crumpled blanket up from the floor and draping it over himself.

Of course, Dongyoung crawls under as well and pokes Taeyong in the shoulder relentlessly. “C’mon, don’t be mean now. Have you even tried it? Hey, what if I bake you more cookies?”

Strangely, the offer of mouthwatering sweets doesn’t entice Taeyong –sweets always entice Taeyong. At this time of night, he’d be on his second cup of chocolate pudding. He scratches his nose and wonders if he should be concerned. “Look, just…shut up and turn off the light.”

Dongyoung fistpumps and clicks the nightstand light off. When he returns he clings to Taeyong’s back like a barnacle, legs forcefully tangling with Taeyong’s and his arms squeezing around Taeyong’s middle. Taeyong rolls his eyes and accepts the extra body heat anyway.

Silence accompanies the darkness for a few minutes. Dongyoung’s never been good with silence. “Hey,” he whispers into Taeyong’s hair. “Can watching movies be part of the deal too?”

“I swear to God.”

“I’m serious! I’m good at recommending movies. I’ve seen everything, especially if it’s sci-fi or political. Actually, there’s a good one out now about one of England’s old queens and let me tell you, amazing cinematography on the…”

With Dongyoung’s soft voice soothing his ears, Taeyong welcomes blissful unconsciousness.