afterward
Seonghyeon had been half-listening to the noise around them, until his attention locked onto Keonho sitting on the edge of the couch, that stupid muffler hanging loose around his neck like he knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe he did—because Keonho had been pulling this all evening. Big, innocent puppy eyes at Juhoon, a slight head tilt, those shy little smiles that had the older guy puffing up with pride. Seonghyeon’s jaw tightened, something hot and restless twisting in his gut. Yeah. He’d had enough. He wandered over and caught the end of the muffler, giving it a light, teasing tug that barely hinted at the irritation simmering underneath.
Keonho’s head snapped up, eyes locking onto Seonghyeon’s smirk, promising trouble. A flicker of realization hit him, cheeks flushing as he realized he was in deep. Before he could protest, Seonghyeon yanked harder, pulling Keonho to his feet and close enough that their bodies brushed. ‘Come on, pup,’ Seonghyeon murmured low, just for him, the word laced with possession. The room’s eyes turned, but Seonghyeon didn’t care—he wanted them to see. Keonho stumbled forward, letting himself be dragged with a whine his heart pounding with a mix of fear and that twisted thrill he couldn’t shake.
The members noticed– snickers breaking out, James laughed under his breath as Martin and Juhoon started calling Keonho cute.
******
By the time they reached the dorm, the others had scattered for the night, leaving the space empty and echoing. Seonghyeon kicked the door shut behind them, shoving Keonho against the wall with enough force to rattle his breath. He grabbed a fistful of Keonho’s soft hair, tugging lightly at first—enough to tilt his head back, exposing the pale column of his throat. ‘Baby, what’s up with you, huh?’ Seonghyeon’s voice was a rough growl, lips brushing the shell of Keonho’s ear. ‘You want Juhoon hyung to fuck you too?’
Keonho shook his head frantically, ears burning red as he pressed his palms against Seonghyeon’s chest—not pushing away, but trembling. ‘No, Hyeonie,’ he whispered, voice small and shaky, eyes darting down in submission. ‘I didn’t... I wouldn’t...’
Seonghyeon’s grip tightened in his hair, yanking harder now, forcing Keonho to meet his gaze. ‘Liar,’ he snarled, free hand wrapping around Keonho’s throat in a firm choke, thumb pressing just enough to make his pulse jump under the skin. Keonho gasped, body going pliant as fear widened his eyes—genuine, raw, the kind that made Seonghyeon’s cock twitch with satisfaction. He leaned in, breath hot against Keonho’s lips. ‘You’re mine, pup. Do you want me to remind you again?’
With a rough shove, Seonghyeon dragged him by the muffler toward the bedroom, the fabric acting like a makeshift leash as Keonho scrambled to keep up on unsteady legs. He pushed Keonho face-down onto the bed, knees hitting the mattress with a soft thud. ‘On all fours, like a good boy,’ Seonghyeon commanded, voice brooking no argument. Keonho obeyed, ass up, face buried in the pillows as tears already pricked at his eyes. The makeshift leash stayed taut in Seonghyeon’s hand, pulling back to arch Keonho’s back just right.
Seonghyeon stripped him quick and brutal—pants yanked down, shirt rucked up—exposing pale skin marked from past nights. His own clothes followed, cock springing free, hard and leaking at the sight of Keonho’s vulnerable form. He palmed Keonho’s ass, spreading him open, fingers teasing the tight ring of muscle. ‘Look at you, all desperate and scared. Bet Juhoon couldn’t make you cry like this.’ Keonho whimpered, shaking his head again, but Seonghyeon didn’t wait. He slicked his cock with spit, pressing the blunt head against Keonho’s hole.
One sharp tug on the leash, and he thrust in—deep, unrelenting, burying himself to the hilt in one go. Keonho cried out, body clenching around the invasion, tears spilling hot down his cheeks as pain and fear twisted in his gut. ‘Hyeon, please!’ he begged, voice breaking, hands fisting the sheets. It hurt, the stretch burning, but Seonghyeon’s hand on his throat squeezed again, choking off the plea into a choked sob.
‘Shut up and take it,’ Seonghyeon growled, hips snapping forward in a punishing rhythm, each thrust slamming into Keonho’s prostate with possessive force. He pulled the leash harder, yanking Keonho’s head back, forcing him to arch as Seonghyeon fucked him raw. Hair tangled in his other fist, Seonghyeon wrenched it, using the leverage to drive deeper, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Keonho’s cries turned to sobs, body shaking with genuine terror—eyes squeezed shut, tears soaking the pillow—but his cock leaked against his stomach, betraying the twisted need beneath the fear.
‘Who owns you, pup?’ Seonghyeon demanded, choking him tighter, thrusts brutal and claiming. He released the hair only to slap Keonho’s thigh, marking red handprints. ‘Say it.’
‘You... Hyeon, please, it hurts!’ Keonho wailed, voice hoarse, body jolting with every pound. The leash pulled taut, keeping him in place like a pet on a short chain, ass clenching desperately around Seonghyeon’s thick cock. Seonghyeon laughed cruel, low, leaning over to bite at Keonho’s shoulder, drawing a fresh sob.
‘Good boy. Cry for me.’ He fucked harder, relentless, the possessiveness fueling each drag and snap—owning every inch, every tear. Keonho’s begs dissolved into broken whimpers, scared and subby, lost in Seonghyeon’s dominance as the edge of release built, coiling tight.
Seonghyeon’s thrusts didn’t falter, each one slamming deeper into Keonho’s clenching ass, the burn of possession driving him wild. Keonho’s sobs grew ragged, his body trembling under the assault, tears streaming endlessly as the pain blurred into something overwhelming. ‘Hyeon, please... too much,’ he gasped out between cries, voice cracking, but Seonghyeon only tightened his grip on there leash, yanking it back to force Keonho’s spine into a sharper arch.
‘No stopping now, pup,’ Seonghyeon snarled, his free hand sliding from Keonho’s throat to deliver a sharp slap across his ass cheek, the crack echoing loud. Red bloomed on pale skin, and Keonho yelped, hole spasming around Seonghyeon’s pistoning cock. He fucked harder, hips snapping with brutal force, balls slapping against Keonho’s with every plunge. The room filled with the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh, Keonho’s whimpers turning to desperate keens as overstimulation hit.
Seonghyeon released the hair in his fist only to grab Keonho’s hip, nails digging in for leverage as he pounded relentlessly. Another slap landed—this time on Keonho’s thigh, then his lower back, marking him up like territory claimed. ‘Mine,’ Seonghyeon growled, voice thick with lust, choking Keonho’s throat again to cut off a fresh plea. Keonho’s vision spotted, chest heaving for air, genuine fear twisting his features as his body went slack, overwhelmed.
‘Hyeon... please, I can’t...’ Keonho begged one last time, eyes fluttering, but Seonghyeon ignored it, thrusting savagely, cock dragging against sensitive walls. He slapped Keonho’s face lightly at first—enough to jolt him—then harder across the cheek when no response came, the sting pulling a weak sob. Keonho’s head lolled, tears matting his lashes, and suddenly his body went limp, passing out cold from the intensity, breaths shallow and ragged.
Seonghyeon didn’t slow. If anything, the sight fueled him—Keonho’s unconscious form, ass still presented, hole stretched wide around his thick shaft. He yanked the leash harder, keeping the body in position, and drove in deeper, fucking the unresponsive warmth with possessive fury. Slaps rained down now: on the ass, thighs, even the limp arms dangling off the bed, leaving handprints everywhere. ‘Wake up and feel this, pup,’ he muttered, though Keonho didn’t stir, body jolting with each rough pound.
Sweat slicked their skin as Seonghyeon chased his release, hips grinding brutally, cock throbbing inside the tight heat. He slapped Keonho’s face again, harder, watching the head snap to the side, but still no awakening—just soft, involuntary twitches. The dominance surged, and with a final, vicious thrust, Seonghyeon buried himself deep, cum flooding Keonho’s ass in hot spurts, marking him from the inside out. He rode it out, slapping one last time across the reddened ass, breath heaving as he pulled out slow, watching his seed leak from the abused hole.
Keonho remained out, body marked and spent, a testament to Seonghyeon’s ruthless claims.
The room is quiet in a way that feels heavier than silence.
Not empty, just… settled.
Seonghyeon is the first to come back to himself.
It takes a second. Maybe more. His breathing is still uneven, his thoughts lagging behind his body. But the moment he shifts and feels the weight beside him—warm, limp, completely unresponsive—
He freezes.
“...Keonho?”
No answer.
Of course not.
Keonho is out cold, face turned slightly into the pillow, lashes resting against flushed skin, lips parted just enough to let out slow, steady breaths. There’s something almost unfair about it—how soft he looks, how untouched, when Seonghyeon knows exactly how much he pushed him.
A flicker of something sharp cuts through his chest. Regret, maybe. Or something adjacent to it.
He exhales quietly and sits up.
“Idiot…” he mutters under his breath—though it’s unclear who he means.
Carefully, deliberately, he starts to clean up.
The movements are slow, methodical. Not rushed, not careless. A damp cloth, warm water, steady hands that are a stark contrast to the way they were gripping earlier. He makes sure Keonho is comfortable first—always first—lifting him just enough to shift the sheets, wiping away the sweat, the cum leaking out, brushing damp hair off his forehead.
Keonho stirs once, barely, a faint sound escaping him.
Seonghyeon pauses instantly.
“…Hey.”
Nothing.
Still out.
He watches him for a moment longer than necessary, then clicks his tongue softly and resumes.
When he’s done with the basics, he reaches for the small container on the nightstand. The salve.
This part—he’s more careful with.
There are marks. Of course there are.
His jaw tightens slightly at the sight of them, fingers hovering for just a second before he forces himself to move. The salve is cool when he applies it, gentle pressure, slow strokes meant to soothe rather than overwhelm.
“Shouldn’t have let you push it that far,” he murmurs, almost absently.
Keonho doesn’t hear him.
Or maybe he does. There’s a faint shift in his breathing, but nothing more.
Seonghyeon works in silence after that, attention sharp, movements precise. He doesn’t rush through it—not a single part of it. It’s not just about fixing what’s visible. It’s about… grounding. Resetting.
When he’s finally done, he pulls the blanket up over Keonho’s body, tucking it in without thinking.
For a moment, he just sits there.
Watching.
Then—quietly—he lies down beside him.
There’s hesitation. Brief, but real.
Then he reaches out anyway, pulling Keonho closer, one arm wrapping around him, careful not to press too hard.
Keonho fits there easily. Too easily.
Seonghyeon exhales, slower this time, and rests his chin lightly against the top of his head.
“…Don’t go smiling at everyone like that,” he mutters, voice low, almost lost to the quiet.
It sounds more tired than jealous now.
His grip tightens just slightly.
And then, eventually—
He sleeps.
Morning comes loud.
Not in volume—but in energy.
Keonho wakes first.
And immediately regrets it.
“...Ow.”
It’s soft at first. Then—
“—Ow.”
Louder.
He blinks at the ceiling, face scrunching as he tries to move and immediately feels every single consequence of last night hit him all at once.
“…I’m dying,” he declares to no one in particular.
Beside him, Seonghyeon doesn’t move.
Which is suspicious.
Keonho narrows his eyes slightly, then—very deliberately—turns his back to him.
“…I’m actually dying,” he repeats, louder this time.
Still nothing.
“Wow,” Keonho mutters. “Heartless.”
He sits up—slowly, dramatically, with way more struggle than strictly necessary—and winces like he’s been personally betrayed by gravity.
Then he gets out of bed.
And ignores Seonghyeon completely.
By the time the others see him, Keonho is already in full performance mode.
“I can’t walk,” he announces, collapsing onto the couch like a tragic lead in a drama.
Martin snorts.
“You’re literally walking right now.”
“I’m suffering,” Keonho insists, draping an arm over his eyes. “No one understands.”
He shifts—and immediately winces again.
“…Okay, maybe a little suffering,” James concedes.
Keonho hums weakly, as if that validation is all he needed.
Across the room, Seonghyeon watches.
Arms crossed.
Expression unreadable.
He doesn’t say anything.
Which, if anything, makes it worse.
Practice is… a choice.
A dangerous one.
Keonho, apparently, has decided today is the perfect day to go all out.
He shouldn’t.
He knows he shouldn’t.
Seonghyeon definitely knows he shouldn’t.
And yet—
Keonho spins.
Jumps.
Drops into moves with way more force than necessary, ignoring the obvious strain, the subtle hitch in his movements, the way his body clearly protests.
Seonghyeon’s jaw tightens.
Once.
Twice.
By the third time Keonho lands something a little too hard—
“That’s enough.”
The music cuts.
Everyone freezes.
Keonho looks up, blinking innocently.
“What?”
Seonghyeon’s stare is flat.
“Don’t act dumb.”
“I’m not acting,” Keonho shoots back, all wide eyes and mock confusion.
There’s a pause.
Tension—sharp, thin.
Then Seonghyeon exhales sharply through his nose.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
He turns away.
Which is… worse.
Much worse.
Keonho watches him go, lips pressing together for just a second—
Then he looks away too.
They don’t talk on the way back.
They don’t talk when they enter the dorm.
They don’t talk until the door closes behind them.
And then—
Seonghyeon snaps.
“Are you trying to make it worse?”
Keonho turns, arms crossed immediately, defensive like it’s instinct.
“Oh, so now you care?”
“I cared before,” Seonghyeon shoots back, sharper than intended. “You’re the one—”
“The one what?” Keonho cuts in. “Smiling too much?”
Silence.
That hits.
Seonghyeon’s expression shifts—just slightly.
“…That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure sounded like it.”
Keonho turns like he’s about to walk away—
He doesn’t make it far.
Seonghyeon catches his wrist and pulls him back—not rough, but firm enough to stop him completely.
“Don’t.”
“Let go.”
“No.”
Keonho glares.
Seonghyeon doesn’t back down.
And then—
In one smooth motion, he pushes Keonho back onto the bed, following him down, pinning him there—not aggressively, but solid, grounding, impossible to ignore.
Keonho blinks up at him, momentarily caught off guard.
“…You’re so annoying,” Seonghyeon mutters.
Keonho huffs. “You’re worse.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
Then—
Seonghyeon leans down.
Not rushed. Not heated like before.
Just—close.
Their foreheads almost touch.
“…You were hurting,” he says, quieter now.
Keonho’s expression flickers.
“…I know.”
“Then stop acting like you’re indestructible.”
Keonho hesitates.
Then—softly—
“…You started it.”
There’s no real accusation in it.
Just truth.
Seonghyeon exhales.
“…Yeah.”
Another pause.
This one softer.
Then Keonho reaches up—slowly, deliberately—and tugs lightly at Seonghyeon’s collar.
“…You’re still annoying,” he mutters.
Seonghyeon snorts faintly.
“Shut up.”
But he doesn’t move away.
If anything, he leans in closer.
Their lips meet—brief, soft, nothing like the night before. No urgency, no edge. Just something quiet, grounding, familiar.
When they pull back, Keonho doesn’t look away this time.
“…You’re not allowed to get jealous like that again,” he says.
Seonghyeon raises a brow.
“You’re not allowed to push yourself like that again.”
Keonho considers it.
“…We’ll see.”
Seonghyeon rolls his eyes—but there’s a hint of a smile there now.
“Unbelievable.”
Keonho grins.
And this time—
Seonghyeon doesn’t tell him to stop.
