Sedation

Seunghyun is in the middle of a dream involving talking books, carrying around a baby, and hair so long he keeps tripping over it (sending little jolts of anxiety through him as he worries about dropping the baby) when Jiyong wakes him up.

“Hyung. Hyunggg.”

“Mmm?” Seunghyun's dream is fading; all he can remember now is the weight on his hip and some garbled chattering.

“Hyung, I can't sleep.”

“What?” Seunghyun is starting to process what Jiyong’s saying, but he hasn't moved. His eyes are still closed, his body trying to stay asleep even as his brain perks up.

“I can't sleep.”

Seunghyun's brow furrows, his eyes remaining firmly shut. “So you woke me up? Do you want to die?”

“Hyunggg.”

Seunghyun feels something sharp on his earlobe and knows Jiyong must have pinched it. Groaning, he reaches out and pulls Jiyong against his chest, rolling over a bit to trap him there. He kisses what feels like his forehead. He still hasn't opened his eyes. “Just close your eyes and go back to sleep. It must be three in the morning.”

Jiyong repositions his head so his mouth is free. “It's four,” he says.

Another groan rumbles out of Seunghyun's chest. “We have to be up in three hours.”

“I know,” says Jiyong, squirming a bit. “That's why I want to get more sleep.”

“So just close your eyes!”

“Yah, don't you think I've been trying?”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” Seunghyun asks.

“Well,” Jiyong says, wiggling a bit more in Seunghyun's arms, “there's one thing that always tires me out…”

The mere suggestion sends warmth rushing south, but Seunghyun is too tired to move. He can feel his body already settling into sleep again. “So you just jack off like a normal person,” he grumbles. “You don’t wake a man up.”

“Why would I jack off when my boyfriend is right next to me?” Seunghyun can hear the exaggerated pout in Jiyong’s voice.

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a sex robot who exists only to please you?” Seunghyun says.

He can tell immediately that his words were too stinging; Jiyong had gone still and quiet as he spoke. Then he pulls away, wriggling his way out of Seunghyun’s arms.

Seunghyun’s eyes flutter open at last. “Jiyongie, I didn’t mean it like –”

“Is that what you think?” Jiyong asks, his eyes big as a doe’s, shiny in the pre-dawn gloom. “That I just want you for sex?”

“No,” says Seunghyun firmly. “I’m just tired,” he says as his hand floats up to rub his eye.
“Because you know I love you, right?” Jiyong asks. He pulls close again, very close, his lips ghosting over Seunghyun’s.

“I know,” Seunghyun says, and is rewarded with a fat kiss on the mouth. Jiyong grins (that crazy, dazzling grin) and nudges Seunghyun gently so he rolls onto his back.

“And you know I’d do anything for you, right?” he ask.

“I know,” Seunghyun repeats. Jiyong is straddling him now. It’s all too clear that this will end just how Jiyong wants it to.

“And I don’t want to have sex just because I want to go to sleep,” he says.

“I know,” Seunghyun says a third time.

“It’s just that tonight left a little something to be desired –,” They hadn’t been alone together for ages and so the moment Jiyong got through the door Seunghyun was on him; they’d fucked on the floor in the hallway and then immediately washed up and changed for sleep, laughing at how exhausted they were, “– and I was thinking about how we’re going to be so busy tomorrow that we might not get to do this again, and how much I miss you, which, you know, includes missing certain things we do together…”

“Jiyongie, it’s not that I don’t want to –”

“Shh.” Jiyong bends down, pulls up Seunghyun’s shirt, and starts placing soft kisses on his chest. “You’ll just need to lift your hips so I can get your boxers off,” he murmurs against his skin. “After that, you won’t need to move. Okay?”

Seunghyun tries to sigh, but Jiyong’s mouth is now on his nipple and his breath comes out shaky. “All right,” he says.

Jiyong works his way down Seunghyun’s torso at a gentle pace. Seunghyun closes his eyes again, his arousal lazy but growing. When Jiyong reaches his boxers, he pauses, plants a few kisses on Seunghyun’s already hardening cock through the cloth, then puts his fingers in the waistband and says in a low, soothing voice, “Up now, there you go.” Seunghyun lifts his hips and feels his underwear slide away. When Jiyong returns to nestle between his legs, Seunghyun opens his eyes just a smidge and lifts his head to watch. It’s still a sight to behold, Jiyong’s mouth on his cock.

There’s none of the urgency of earlier that night but there’s no teasing, either. Jiyong gets right to it, his head bobbing up and down on Seunghyun’s cock, pausing occasionally to kiss his hipbone or nip at the soft skin of his inner thighs. Soon Seunghyun’s fully erect and Jiyong darts away from him again to get lube from the nightstand. Seunghyun turns his head to watch Jiyong’s lithe, naked figure stretch out in the semi-darkness. (Hadn’t he had underwear on when they went to bed? When did he undress? Abruptly Seunghyun remembers feeling Jiyong’s cock against his hip when he’d pulled him close; he hadn’t questioned it in the moment.) Jiyong smears some on Seunghyun and a bit on his fingers, but prepping himself takes no time at all. Seunghyun smiles to himself at that, feeling some sort of silly, piggish pride at having fucked him open so thoroughly earlier.

Jiyong straddles him again, a knee on either side of Seunghyun’s hips and Seunghyun’s cock pressed gently into the cleft of his ass. Seunghyun lifts his hands and grasps Jiyong's forearms, but Jiyong breaks one arm away to reach behind himself for Seunghyun’s dick, so Seunghyun runs his hand up and down Jiyong’s smooth, slender thigh instead. Jiyong lines himself up over Seunghyun and sinks down, his eyes closing as his face relaxes with what looked like relief.

Seunghyun keeps his eyes open, despite the exhaustion he still feels. Watching Jiyong is a big part of what made the sex so exceptionally great. Seunghyun thinks that if Jiyong was a porn star, he’d be the most popular porn star in the world, because no matter how thoroughly undone he comes during sex, he always looks beautiful. He’s still somehow composed even in the moments Seunghyun knows he’s anything but: he doesn’t sweat but glistens; he doesn’t go red but flushes delicately; he doesn’t pant but his chest heaves. The noises he makes are always pretty; the movements always fluid and graceful. So much of Seunghyun’s sexual experience before had been ugly sounds and weird expressions that took him out of the moment, made him self-conscious and anxious. But it’s never like that with Jiyong. It’s always something beautiful.

Jiyong makes one of his pretty moans, his hand drifting to his cock. His mouth is a perfect little circle, and Seunghyun reaches up and takes Jiyong’s face in his hand. He traces his thumb down from Jiyong’s bottom lip and then draws a line underneath it, making the syllable oh for the sound they’re both making. Jiyong hasn’t been bouncing on Seunghyun as much as sitting and grinding, but he pulls up suddenly so that when he comes back down, Seunghyun’s thumb is in his mouth. His tongue flicks over the pad of it and he looks down and Seunghyun with lusty eyes, and Seunghyun is awake now. He sits up so quickly that Jiyong gasps and might’ve fallen over except for Seunghyun’s hands reaching around to hold him in his arms.

“Do you like this?” Jiyong asks, moving more forcefully now. Seunghyun has no response but to catch Jiyong’s lips with his own. When Jiyong pulls away with a gasp, Seunghyun’s mouth falls to Jiyong’s throat and he paints it with kisses. “Are you still mad?” Jiyong asks, his back arched as he grinds down against Seunghyun’s hips. Seunghyun knows Jiyong has found his angle and he pushes Jiyong’s hand away from his cock, taking him in hand and pumping in time with Jiyong’s movements. Seunghyun doesn’t like Jiyong touching himself while they have sex. He wants to earn every bit of Jiyong’s orgasm.

Seunghyun’s own orgasm takes him by surprise: he’s distracted by his exhaustion and Jiyong and all of a sudden all of that lazy arousal that he’d just barely registered has come to its zenith and he’s spilling into Jiyong. But he keeps his hand going even as he has to rest his forehead on Jiyong’s shoulder, and Jiyong keeps grinding, and before long he’s followed and his cum is all over Seunghyun’s hand and both their stomachs.

Jiyong gently pushes a panting Seunghyun back down on the bed. (Seunghyun does pant – he’s not like Jiyong. But Jiyong’s so lovely that Seunghyun’s never embarrassed to be so human in front of someone who’s so perfectly beautiful, the way you’d think you would be.) He pulls Seunghyun’s cock out tenderly, almost with reverence, and kisses him before slipping back to the bedside table. Jiyong introduced baby wipes when they stopped using condoms (because why would Seunghyun sleep with anyone else when he can sleep with Jiyong?) and for items designed for infants, they’re remarkably well-suited for sex.

Seunghyun watches Jiyong warm the wipe in his hands for a moment before cleaning up first himself, then Seunghyun. Seunghyun can see that it’s worked: Jiyong’s eyes are half-closed already. He tosses the wipe in the wastebasket and crawls over to Seunghyun, bringing the covers with him.

There’s some maneuvering to avoid the small wet spot from where Seunghyun's cum leaked out of Jiyong, and then they’re settled. (Seunghyun tells his mother he doesn’t want anyone in to clean because he’s too private, but really a much bigger factor is that he doesn’t want to subject some poor maid to his bedsheets, which are constantly stained with lube and cum.) Seunghyun likes to sleep on his back and Jiyong likes to sleep on his side, so Jiyong generally winds up snuggled against Seunghyun, his head on his chest. Seunghyun likes this because it makes it natural to rest his hand on Jiyong’s ass. And to smell his hair and kiss the top of his head.

“Thanks, Hyung,” Jiyong murmurs sleepily. “You’re the best boyfriend.”
Seunghyun doesn’t say anything; he knows Jiyong’s already drifting off. As tired as he is, he’s not sure now if he can follow, because he really doesn’t get enough time to hold Jiyong like this, to feel all his skin against his own, to just listen to him breathe. And he wants to appreciate it, to treasure these moments in proportion to how precious they are to him. But he’s so tired, and it’s still mostly dark out, and Jiyong’s steady breathing is a lullaby, and soon enough he’s asleep again.

Notes