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Crammed in the top bunk, Gunwook rests his head in Matthew's lap. The dorm is dark and relatively quiet, if they ignore occasional distant scream-laughing. Gunwook figures himself lucky though, considering his roommate has another room he'd rather sleep in, he has time to spend with Matthew uninterrupted.
They often find themselves up until the early hours of the morning rambling back and forth about anything and everything, and somehow it's still never enough. Every new conversation reveals new lore, new weird opinions the other holds, new strands of DNA to pull at in the hopes of one day wearing themselves threadbare. It's strange, Gunwook considers himself a rather social person and yet he's never known someone so easy to talk to.
Like a return to the days of playing pretend, they get lost in their fantasies, discussing at length hypotheticals that range from light-hearted and silly, to philosophical, or morbid, and horny.
"How would you kill me?" Matthew asks, unprompted, as he runs his fingers through Gunwook's hair. "Y'know, if you had to," he adds.
"If I had to." Gunwook snorts. "What am I, a hitman?"
He looks up at Matthew, who's upside down in his vision and lit by moonlight peaking through a gap in blackout curtains. He's too cute to die.
"Sure," says Matthew, smiling. "Just go with it."
Gunwook takes a moment to consider the scenario in good faith. After some hums and hisses of deep thought, he tries, "Poison? Ah, I'd want to make it quick and painless though..."
"Hmm, you could always shoot me?" Matthew says oddly innocently, brushing Gunwook's hair out of his face like this is a normal conversation to have.
Gunwook winces. "That's too..." he trails off, struggling to find the right word.
"Impersonal," Matthew supplies.
Gunwook nods. Matthew deserves something less clinical than a one and done method like a gunshot, someone so important to him should at least be done the justice of an emotional release. Some closure, he thinks. "I guess I could stab you," Gunwook says, "But your face would make me sad."
Matthew chuckles and brings his arms to rest around Gunwook's neck. "So nothing too impersonal, but nothing too personal either. Gotcha, so no murder," he teases, tracing circles in the notch between his collarbones. "You're a terrible hitman, baby."
"Shut up," he mutter, shy from the pet name. He turns his head to hide his face in Matthew's inner thigh, but before he can get too comfortable he's jolted by an onslaught of kisses all over his neck, jawline, and up to his ear. He squirms and pushes weakly against Matthew's arms trapping his face. Between giggles, he cries out, "Stop!"
"Whyy?" Matthew nuzzles his face in his neck, grinning against his hot skin.
His breath sends tingles throughout Gunwook's body and his hair stands on end. "It tickles!" he whines. Any attempt at wiggling free is promptly blocked by Matthew's strength. He's barely even trying.
Like a threat, Matthew echoes him, "Tickles?"
Whatever thought Gunwook was formulating in response is interrupted by his own squealing as his sides are attacked without mercy. Matthew digs deep in his ribs like he's trying to claw his way in, tears prick at his eyes and his cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He tries to grab at Matthew's arm to brute force an escape and his fingers are chomped at in response.
"Ack! Zombie!" Gunwook exclaims, louder than he meant to this late at night.
"Shh!” Matthew clamps a hand over his mouth, but only momentarily, as he yanks it away when Gunwook presses a wet kiss to his palm. “Ew.”
Gunwook beams up at him, pleased. "Made you stop, though."
Matthew may roll his eyes but he can't hide the love behind them. "You're silly," he says, cupping Gunwook's cheeks in his hands, squishing his baby fat together to force a kissy face. Perfectly content to be molded into whatever shape he favors best, Gunwook melts like putty in his hands.
"How would you kill me?" Gunwook asks, as well as he can with puckered lips impeding his pronunciation.
With a funny look on his face, Matthew lets go of Gunwook's cheeks to waggle a finger at him. “I was hoping you wouldn't ask,” he says, alongside his habitual nervous laugh.
Gunwook scrunches his brows. "Why not? It's just for fun, right?"
Matthew massages the back of his neck and stares at the ceiling. "Well, yeah, but," he stops and sighs. "Promise you won't judge me?"
Gunwook nods when he looks to him for reassurance. "I mean, no promises, but you should tell me anyway.” His small smile softens his words.
As the cogs turn in his mind, Matthew chews on his bottom lip. “Honestly I've thought about it a lot, like, too much,” he admits.
Gunwook raises his eyebrows. It's not that Matthew isn't capable of dark thoughts, Gunwook of all people knows there's so much more to him than his sunshine image, but fantasies of murder aren't exactly something he'd expect from Matthew—or from anybody he knows, to be fair.
Matthew blushes, clearly self-conscious, but he continues, "Could we do some roleplay? It'd be easier to explain that way."
"Sure," Gunwook answers without hesitation. He may not have any idea what he's getting himself into, but that piques his curiosity all the more. It wouldn't be the first time they've done this sort of thing anyway, albeit with tamer subject matter.
“Awesome.” Matthew breathes in and out like he’s been holding it for a while. Straightening his back, he pops some joints and clears his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them; he's entering the scene. Gunwook can't help but think it's adorable how dedicated he is to immersing himself in his own silly scenarios, it has him wishing he were a better improv partner himself.
With a newfound, however fabricated, confidence, Matthew runs his fingers through Gunwook's hair and begins, "So, follow me. We're alone, in your bed, just like this. We're kissing. ” He bends down to demonstrate by really kissing him, slow and tender. Voice low, he speaks into Gunwook's mouth, “It's getting late, but we're not tired. So I tell you I have something I want to try, and you trust me, right?”
“I trust you.” Their teeth clack together as he mumbles against his lips.
The angle makes for sort of a funny sight when Matthew pulls away to look in his eyes. “And you know you can tell me to shut up and stop at any time?" he asks, while nodding like he's answering his own question.
Gunwook snickers. "I do."
"Good,” says Matthew. Gunwook's eyes flutter closed as he’s petted gently. "And you love me?" Matthew asks, Gunwook's heart jumps at the stupid grin audible in his stupid voice.
"I love you," he promises.
"Very good, love you too," he says and kisses Gunwook's cheek. His hands travel down Gunwook's torso and he tenses in case of another incoming tickle attack, but instead the bottom of his T-shirt is pulled over his head and behind his neck, bunching under his armpits and stretched taut to bare his chest. He shivers at the sudden exposure but makes no motions to resist.
Matthew drags his nails up his stomach, taking his time to trace each individual rib as if to count them. The light scraping leaves Gunwook itching for more, he arches his back off the mattress to lean into the touch and lets out a breathy giggle that sounds more like a moan as it goes on.
He fully devolves into whimpers when Matthew squeezes when his hands finally reach his chest. "Hyung," he whines and grabs onto Matthew's wrist. "Is that part of it?”
He chuckles, "Oh right!” Gunwook's sure he'd really forgotten where he was going with all this, but he continues, "So because you love me, blah blah, and you trust me," he lists off as his thumbs graze Gunwook's nipples mindlessly. "You'll let me do this—" He bites down on his neck. Not hard, but it's enough to make Gunwook's nerves light up, enough to elicit a fight or flight response, and enough to send his blood flowing downwards.
"You're sure this isn't about zombies?" Gunwook gasps on his words, his grip tightens on Matthew’s arm as he gnaws at him.
He releases the flesh from his teeth with a laugh and soothes the spot with small kisses. "Okay, it's spiritually similar to zombies," he concedes, sitting up straight again. "But without the undead part.”
Gunwook inhales sharply at the image that conjures. "You're kidding?" He knows he's not, but he has to ask.
"Well, obviously I'm not really gonna eat you," he says, now fiddling with the waistband of Gunwook's shorts. "But that's the fantasy."
He's not sure if it's just because it's Matthew who's proposing it, but he's weirdly not against the idea. “You're crazy,” he mutters.
"Yeah and you're heavy, my legs are falling asleep." Matthew leans back against the wall and pokes at Gunwook to coax him upward.
He obliges and kneels between Matthew's knees while he stretches out his legs. It's only when he turns around to face him that it hits him how on display he is. Half naked, served before a fully clothed Matthew and his increasingly hungry eyes on a silver platter. His shoulders rise as high as his internal temperature, he traps his hands between his clenched thighs in an attempt at a modicum of modesty.
Matthew looks him up and down with a cheeky smile before he tugs one of Gunwook's hands free and brings it to his mouth. "Pretend," he says, and sucks on his index and middle fingers. Gunwook's fingers brush against the sharp ridges of his teeth and his focus is overtaken by the threat of being bitten. He holds his breath, waiting for the snap, almost longing for it, but of course it doesn't come. "Just pretend," repeats Matthew with a wet pop as he releases Gunwook's digits, glistening with his saliva, strings of drool connecting them like webs.
By the wrist, he guides his hand to his crotch and wipes the wetness off on the growing bulge in his sweatpants. Low and breathy, he muses, "Where should I start? Should I save the best for last?" He smacks Gunwook's thigh and the sting to his bare skin makes his dick twitch and his brain fills with white noise as Matthew squeezes, digging his fingers in; he's never been this forceful with him before.
He draws a line down Gunwook's torso, stopping at his sparse happy trail, and says, "Maybe I'll open you up, so I can cherish every part that makes you whole.” He massages Gunwook's stomach, pressing down and kneading as if to reach the organs beneath his soft flesh. "Would you like that?" He smiles and cocks his head innocently, he looks up at him, his gaze is far too lovely to have just suggested he'll gut Gunwook like a fish.
Gunwook's thoughts get stuck in his throat, he doesn't know his own answer to that. “Why do you like it?" he croaks out.
Matthew's eyes light up at the question. "There's so many things you don't even know about yourself," he says as he rests his palm over Gunwook's throbbing heart. "Things I could only learn first-hand."
His teeth chatter. "Like?"
He hums, pretending to think like he's not obviously played this scenario out in his head a million times over already. "Like how easily your skin would give way to a butcher's knife," he punctuates his sentence by digging his nail into a particularly squishy part of Gunwook's pec. "Or the specific shade of yellow of your fatty tissue and how it'd contrast with your muscles. And it'd be for my eyes only," he muses, dreamily.
Gunwook feels like he might pass out. "God, you're weird." His voice cracks.
Unable to hide his smile, Matthew laughs and pokes at Gunwook’s side. "Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he mewls in defeat. He wraps his arms around Matthew’s neck and pulls him in to hide how affected he is in the crook of his shoulder; his smell is a small comfort, the lingering scent of his body wash mixed with the familiar pheromones of his sweat keep him tethered to reality. Maybe too tethered, because the longer he’s enveloped in Matthew's warmth, the more shameful his growing erection becomes.
Even worse, Matthew notices. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd be this into this," he says under his breath, rubbing Gunwook’s upper thigh, so close and yet so far.
“Me neither.” If Matthew wanted him dead before, the way his blood seems to have taken a vacation from his brain may actually kill him now.
“It’s a fucking relief,” he says. He pushes against Gunwook's large arms around him and commands, sweetly, “Lay down.”
Gunwook falls backwards obediently and Matthew hooks him by his thighs to pull his ass in contact with his crotch. Even through the fabric of two layers of clothing, Gunwook can feel his thick, stiff cock pressed against him and he struggles not to grind down on it. Just in case Matthew has other plans, he asks for permission, "Can I touch myself?"
"Duh.” He takes it upon himself to pull down Gunwook's shorts, hypnotized by his hard cock as it bounces free.
He suddenly feels small as Matthew watches him, ogling him like a piece of meat. He props himself up on one arm, his hand trembles as he wraps his fingers around himself, trying to put on a good show for his audience of one.
Idly massaging Gunwook's calf muscle, voice dripping with admiration, he says, "So pretty.”
He struggles to find a rhythm, it's difficult to focus when his imagination is running wild with images of Matthew tearing him limb from limb, grinning ear to ear. He can't seem to wrap his mind around how appealing it is, the idea of being dismantled. But it's not the literal imagery that he's enjoying, not really. The gore is shocking in a way that twists his guts into knots, and reveals Matthew's adoration for him in a way that untangles them. It's the fact that if Matthew really did decide to turn to cannibalism, he'd be the most lovingly prepared meal he would ever eat.
Matthew takes ahold of Gunwook's hips and rolls their bodies together, matching Gunwook's messy pace. His unwavering gaze is focused between his legs and Gunwook watches as his tongue darts out to lick his lips. "I bet you taste as good as you look," he says, more to himself than anything. His dark eyes wander up to meet Gunwook's. "You'd let me, right? If I pressed the tip of the knife to your skin, you'd let me make the first incision?"
Gunwook's breath hitches in his throat, he's dizzy. "Yes," he swears, nodding. He throws the arm steadying him over his face, cowering from Matthew's stare. He shrinks in on himself as his posture worsens from having to hold himself up via core strength alone.
"Would you stay still if I asked you to? Or would you squirm around and make a mess of us both?"
"I'd stay still, I promise," Gunwook babbles in a daze, speeding up his strokes and bucking his hips into his fist. Visions of the both of them covered in his own blood cloud his thoughts, he's stunned by the sense of closeness it comes with. What could be more intimate than to share your life with your lover?
Through the fog, he hears a request from a fond voice, "Look at me, please."
"Can't," Gunwook mumbles.
Matthew laughs and drags out his syllables, "Why not?"
"Because," Gunwook whines and hides further in the crook of his elbow.
"Gunwook-ah." Matthew pries his arm away and plants it back on the bed, exposing his face, flushed hot pink and dim behind the eyes. Gunwook has to blink a few times before he notices Matthew is stroking himself too, right beneath him, at a much more composed, moderate rhythm.
He resents how cute he looks jerking off, with the way his eyelashes flutter and his bottom lip disappears behind his front teeth. He looks so vulnerable, if Gunwook didn't know any better he'd think he was the one on the menu.
Hazily, Gunwook repeats Matthew's words back at him, "You're so pretty, hyung,"
Matthew scrunches his nose, like of all the things they've said tonight that's what he's embarrassed by. "Is it weird that it turns me on when you call me hyung?"
"I think we're past weird," he says between shallow breaths.
“True.” Matthew smiles and reaches his free hand forward to pat Gunwook's hair, smoothing the flyaways back out of his face. Gunwook pushes his head up into the touch like a kitten, chasing his hand for more pets. Matthew indulges him, combing his fingers through his hair and admiring his face. "Cute," he coos, cupping his cheek in his palm, Gunwook softens into the touch, turning his face to nuzzle his wrist. "I wonder if you'd moan while I scoop out your insides, and if you'd be more sweet or savory?"
Gunwook gasps wheezily, having lost the ability to breathe properly. Matthew might as well have already had a chunk of his brain with how fuzzy everything feels. Drooling on Matthew's skin, he strains out a string of nonsense until he finally lands on something coherent, "I'd be yummy." His voice cracks as his imagination is flooded with Matthew forearm deep in his chest cavity, taking samples of his organs like a human charcuterie board.
"Obviously.” Matthew snickers at the state of him. He pinches his chubby cheek and then pulls his now spit-slicked arm away from Gunwook's maw so he can wrap his hand around his, connecting their cocks to pump both in time with Gunwook's frantic pace.
“Fuck,” Gunwook cries. His vision blues at the edges, weak and needy he pants, “When you're done with me,” he pauses to swallow a whimper before continuing, voice creaky and strained, “Promise you'll still fuck me?”
He wouldn't want to go in vain, after all.
A low groan is punched out from Matthew's gut like he's possessed. “God yes.” He squeezes Gunwook's hip tight enough to bruise and thrusts desperately into their hands.
The sound of the bed creaking and skin on skin squelching fills the room. Gunwook closes his eyes and wonders if it's what Matthew's delicate hands rummaging around in his guts would sound like too.
"Please," Gunwook begs, for nothing in particular. His skull is empty, his brain reduced to a fine purée that's leaking from his ears.
"I promise, I promise," Matthew slurs, in tatters, he sounds to Gunwook like he's underwater. "I'd preserve you so you'll never go to waste, I'll use you over and over and over agai—fuck!" An unearthly noise is ripped out of him as he cums, legs shaking, spilling all over their hands and staining their pants.
Gunwook's head spins, he sees stars, for a fraction of a second in the brief moment of pure nothingness before his senses are overloaded with satisfaction, he imagines he's dead. His orgasm tears through him with a gasp, his muscles spasm until he exhausts his energy and flumps backwards, boneless. His ears ring. To think that Matthew would still find him beautiful, desirable even, long after he's drained pale and lifeless. It's kinda romantic, in a fucked up way.
He's never felt so alive.
It takes a couple minutes for their nerves to settle and their breathing to return to normal. When he regains control of his limbs, he sits up to find Matthew disheveled and sticky with a sleepy grin on his face. His heart swells, if he had the energy to laugh he would. Instead, he hugs him, or rather he lets his full body weight fall onto his shoulders.
Matthew accepts it without protest and twirls the hair at his nape around his fingers lazily. He says timidly, "You know I'd never really hurt you, right?"
"I know," Gunwook says. He rubs his cheek on his neck like a cat to a post, mixing their sweat and his drool to mark him as his own. "I love you," he murmurs into the fabric of his shirt.
Matthew ruffles his hair. "Love you too. I'd be pretty sad if you died, you know."
"Me too," he agrees with a soft laugh. "But at least you could keep my heart in a jar or whatever."
Matthew giggles and presses a kiss to his neck. "Or whatever."