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“I don’t… think it’s going to fit.”
Intak stares down at Jongseob, blinking fast, watching the way Jongseob’s puckered, lubed-up asshole sort of winks at him as the muscles contract and expand. Beside it, Intak’s dick just hangs there, hard but floppy, thick enough that it covers the entirety of Jongseob’s cock and balls and then some.
When he leans forward a little, the tip reaches all the way to Jongseob’s belly button, and even though Intak knows that assholes are made to stretch, he wonders if there’s even enough room inside of Jongseob’s guts to accommodate all of him.
It’s not that they haven’t done… stuff before. Hell, the first time they ever talked, Jongseob had sent Intak a message on Grindr that he was hosting, and then dropped a whole goddamn album of hole pics.
Intak answered back with a singular, blurry shot of his dick in his hand, and sure, his holey boxers were pulled down to just past his balls, and his pubes were definitely past-due for a weedwack, but Jongseob replied that it looked like a fucking Coke can, and then had dropped his address. Within the hour, Intak’s head was on Jongseob’s pillow, and Jongseob was between his legs.
“This okay?” Jongseob had asked at that first hook-up, as his lips teased the shiny-red tip of Intak’s cock. His eyes widened with determination, and then he’d stuck his tongue out slowly and lapped the clear bead of precum from the slit like he was drinking from a goddamn water fountain. Intak had to picture his grandmother in a bikini to keep from busting on the spot.
As great as that night was, Intak had fully expected for it to be a one-time thing. But then Jongseob had messaged him again, and then they exchanged phone numbers, and now Intak’s been getting his dick wet consistently for a few weeks.
Actually—getting his dick wet is maybe a bit of an exaggeration. Since that first time, they’ve done plenty more mouth stuff, and hand stuff, and then a little bit of hand stuff with mouth stuff. Jongseob even sat on Intak’s face once, which had been pretty great except for the brief moment where Intak got nervous he might suffocate. At the very least he’d be going down doing what he loves.
Despite all the stuff they’ve tried, there is one final hurdle that they haven’t quite managed to conquer yet. That being anal, of course, and Jongseob attributes this to, as he succinctly put it, Intak’s “wine bottle dick.”
All that’s to say, it’s pretty much the biggest tragedy of Intak’s life that he isn’t going to be able to put his dick inside one of the cutest dudes he’s ever seen.
Present-day Intak repeats himself: “Dude I just—I think it’s too big.
Beneath Intak, Jongseob drops the bent legs he’d been holding up by the meat of his slender thighs. They hit Intak’s mattress with a dull thud, and Jongseob groans and shifts backward to prop himself up on his elbows. He’s wearing this look on his face: judgment mixed with a touch of desperation.
Sure enough, Jongseob motions with his chin toward Intak’s swollen, leaking dick, and then his eyes flicker down to the narrow space between his own legs, frowning. “Dude,” he says, parroting Intak, inflection similar enough that for a split second Intak wonders if maybe he’s being mocked, “you can't like… force it?”
Intak gulps. His dick is so hard at this point he could cut diamonds with it. “I could—try?” He scooches forward, enough that the flushed, lube-slick head of his cock nudges the wrinkles of Jongseob’s asshole. Experimentally, Intak shifts his hips, but there’s barely any give.
Jongseob lifts his legs again, like that will somehow loosen his ass muscle. Intak pushes ever so slightly harder, and he swears he can feel the head just starting to push inside, but then Jongseob groans, frustrated, and it’s as if his hole shoots Intak back out like some kind of fucked-up slingshot.
Gritting his teeth, Intak tries again, harder. “I think—you just gotta–-relax a little,” he grunts, abs beginning to strain. The end of his dick aches from the sheer pressure.
Jongseob grimaces. His arms give out, and his legs flop back onto the mattress as he lets out a soft, annoyed sigh. Intak stares down at the crinkled ring of muscle, slick and hairless, like Jongseob just shaved. Intak’s dick twitches at the thought of it: Jongseob on all fours, trying to get the right angle to see his hole in a mirror.
“I am relaxed,” Jongseob mutters. He shoots Intak a dirty look. “Maybe you just need to try harder.”
Frowning, Intak grabs the bottle of lube from the bedsheets beside him. He uncaps it, then drizzles even more onto Jongseob’s already shiny-wet hole. Some leaks onto Jongseob’s balls, and he squirms like he’s uncomfortable.
“Stop, that’s cold.”
“Sorry, just, uh—let me,” Intak shifts on his knees. Lube drips onto his palm, which ends up smeared down the entire length of Jongseob’s thigh when Intak takes it into his hand to try to maneuver him into a better position. The skin is smooth enough that Intak wonders if Jongseob just shaved there too. He nearly asks, but realizes at the last second that if he wants any chance of not blowing his load before getting even the head of his dick into Jongseob he’s better off not knowing.
Jongseob groans when Intak takes his waist in his free hand and flips Jongseob over onto his hands and knees. Despite Jongseob’s feigned annoyance, though, he lets himself be manhandled easily.
Kneeling behind him, cock hanging heavy between his legs, Intak swears it’s long enough to reach the middle of Jongseob’s back. He gulps, suddenly nervous. “Are you sure this isn’t going to like, break something?” He has no idea how deep an asshole goes, but if he remembers high school biology he’s pretty sure there are… other organs in there that he’d rather not risk damaging just from being too horny.
Already though, Jongseob’s fingers are circling Intak’s shaft—or rather, he’s trying to, although there’s a generous gap where his fingers don’t manage to connect. Intak helps him out by rocking his hips forward until the head nudges the squishy, shiny rim of Jongseob’s hole.
Experimentally, Intak grabs one of Jongeob’s asscheeks and pulls it to the side to reveal the smooth, naked skin below. With his other hand he slaps his dick wetly against the sensitive skin a few times, watching how Jongseob twitches and shivers, hole fluttering, trying to suck him straight inside like it’s the Dyson Intak’s mom bought him when he moved into this place.
The sound Jongseob lets out is obscene: something like a whimper, muted as he grinds his face into the bedsheets beneath him. “Can you—just—?” It seems like he’s trying to hide how desperate he really is, but Intak doesn’t miss how Jongseob’s fists clutch at the sheets and his spit stains the pillow as he ruts his ass against Intak’s dick.
And Intak, well, he tries valiantly to wield the aching, drooling soda can between his legs. He attempts a slow rock of his hips. The slippery muscle of Jongseob’s hole expands, stretching lewdly, gaping wider than Intak thought assholes could stretch, outside of that porn video he managed to stumble upon once in a regrettable, horny stupor.
“Hnhhhng,” Intak grunts. He pushes harder, abs flexing, thighs tense, trying desperately to force the swollen, mushroomed head of his dick into such a tiny space. With a hand wrapped around Jongseob’s slender waist, Intak drags Jongseob toward him, hard. Jongseob gasps with surprise, but then he goes boneless, and Intak is able to move him as he pleases.
Finally, with a last, strained push, Intak manages to breach the sticky rim of Jongseob’s hole. He slips inside all at once, bottoming out with a relieved sigh. Around Intak is tightness like he’s never experienced. Sheer, unbelievable tightness, like that time Intak’s brother accidentally slammed his arm in a car door, except instead of Intak’s arm it’s his dick, and also it feels fucking good.
And holy shit Jongseob is trembling, the muscles of his hole spasming as he clamps down around Intak. Intak feels the clench of him, all around, like there simply isn't enough room to accommodate Intak’s girth, and yet somehow he managed to carve his way inside of Jongseob.
Against the pillow, Jongseob’s voice is quiet but insistent: “Move. Please.”
Overwhelmed by the unbelievable pressure surrounding his dick, Intak thrusts his hips slowly forward. Soaked from the abundance of lube, Jongseob’s insides are like silk, supple and plush, the glide as smooth as one of those Slip ‘N Slides that Intak’s neighbor down the street had as a kid, or like, a seal. It feels so good that he seriously might cry.
As Intak slowly gains momentum, Jongseob starts to whimper, body still shaking beneath Intak. “Uhh—yeah, just—there,” he whines, voice surprisingly deep and ragged. It spurs Intak on; makes him work his hips harder, digging deeper, cock throbbing as he opens Jongseob up.
With his cock now firmly inside of Jongseob, Intak runs his hands down the length of Jongseob’s back, fingertips smearing oil and sweat over smooth skin. With each measured roll of his hips, the wet squelch of lube and the slap of skin against skin fills the room. Around him, Jongseob’s hole is still squeezing Intak like a vise.
“D-deeper,” Jongseob moans, as Intak hauls him backward by the hips onto his aching cock. A pool of Jongseob’s spit or maybe tears have started to spread across the pillow. He’s hiccuping now, whimpering, loud, “Ah-ah-ah’s,” more desperate than Intak has ever heard him, his usual, practiced composure seemingly abandoned.
Jongseob feels so unbearably good inside, and somehow Intak manages to bury himself even deeper. He drapes his body over Jongseob’s trembling back, hips thrusting wildly now, frantically, humping like he would some pillow or a fleshlight or his hand in his weakest moments, brain firing single bursts of “fuckfuckfuck,” and “ohgodplease.” He’s so turned on, and so deep inside of Jongseob he swears he’s going to puncture something with the sheer power of being too erect.
Suddenly, underneath Intak, Jongseob’s arms give out. His body collapses against the mattress with a loud thud, trapped beneath the weight of Intak’s sweating, blissed-out body. Out of Jongseob’s mouth are phrases Intak’s never imagined he’d hear him say. “Jesus—fuck—I feel you in my throat,” Jongseob babbles, voice strained, cracking at the end.
And Intak, he just jackrabbits his hips forward, even harder, impossibly so, letting loose entirely now that he’s finally overcome the seemingly impenetrable barrier that was Jongseob’s tight, twitching, spasming hole. Their bodies are connected everywhere—Intak’s slicked, dripping front down Jongseob’s feverishly hot back, Intak’s face slotted in the crook of Jongseob’s shoulder, of his neck, whining, squealing into his ear.
Somehow, through the onslaught of sensation, Jongseob’s voice still rings out, clear. “Careful or—you’re gonna put—a baby in me,” he moans, stuttering, frantic, body rocking steadily into the mattress, driving into it, back bending and bowing. “You’re—god, fuck you’re in my womb.”
For a single, panicked moment, Intak has to fight the dizzying, desperate-to-cum buzz in his head to consider Jongseob’s words. He’s… mostly sure that guys can’t get pregnant. He could probably still pull out, but also he’s so fucking deep that it’s unbearable, his entire cock cocooned in warm, pillowy flesh, and more than anything in the world he aches to finish within that tight, welcoming, unbelievable heat.
What happens next is that Intak explodes. He feels it in his balls, contracting violently as cum sprays from them. Buckets unload directly into the gape of Jongseob’s asshole, pumping into his guts or his womb or whatever else is up in there.
Gasping, eyes rolling back into his skull, body a wash of blissful relief, Intak thrusts his hips with abandon. He grinds them right into the bony juts of Jongseob’s seat bones, cock still shooting rope after rope of sticky, gooey release as far as Intak is pretty sure a human dick has ever managed to reach inside of another person.
And then, after what very well might be entire years, Intak feels the last of his cum drain from his drooping, emptied balls. He drops his head with a dull, wet smack against Jongseob’s shoulder, gripped by exhaustion, finally completely spent.
Trapped beneath Intak, Jongseob groans. “Ugh, get off—you’re smothering me,” he mutters, and then Intak feels Jongseob’s hand swat against his side.
It’s just so nice inside Jongseob—hot and soft and really, really wet now. Plus, he literally just came. “G-give me a second,” he pants. Intak’s heart feels like it’s trying to play a drumroll against his sternum. His glutes ache from the sheer force of driving his dick into Jongseob. Turns out maybe Intak was right to be a little bit worried about his horndog brain taking over.
Jongseob is clearly not amused. “Come onnn, move.” He pushes against Intak again, harder this time, and even though one of his spaghetti arms certainly isn’t strong enough to force Intak to move, Intak finally takes pity on him. With a heavy sigh, Intak flops onto the bed, softened cock slipping from the damp, suctioned cavern of Jongseob’s hole. Even flaccid, Intak’s dick is still long enough to slap against the inside of his bare thigh.
Once his head hits the pillow, Intak glances over at Jongseob. He’s still splayed on his belly, legs spread. From between them leaks a steady stream of white that, well—-maybe Intak was a little pent up from only cleaning out his pipes into Jongseob’s hand (and also sometimes his mouth) for the last few weeks.
Jongseob’s blondish bangs are plastered to his face, slicked with sweat or maybe from the impressively large drool puddle forming a halo around his head. He rolls onto his side, expression hazy, lips shiny with spit and parted just enough to flash his snaggletooth.
Intak is about to ask if Jongseob needs help with… finishing, when he notices the conspicuous wet spot on the sheets where Jongseob’s cock was trapped just a moment ago. Remnants of cum still glisten on Jongseob’s abdomen, just above his now-soft cock, shriveled to a fraction of the size of Intak’s.
Jongseob’s voice comes out hoarse. “Fuck, you really did it.” He shakes his head like he’s genuinely surprised, then gives Intak’s shoulder a congratulatory pat.
If Intak is being honest, his shaft hurts from the pressure cooker that constituted Jongseob’s asshole. He has no idea how something designed to expand roughly once a day (or sometimes more, if Intak’s experiences with spicy ramyeon are anything to go by) can manage to be that tight.
“Yeah, I guess I did!” Intak reaches out a hand for a high five. Jongseob raises a single eyebrow, and for a second Intak really thinks he’s going to leave him out to dry, but then Jongseob reluctantly brings his hand up to meet Intak’s and gives it a little slap.
After that, Intak fists around in the sheets for his t-shirt to wipe up some of the mess still draining from Jongseob, but then he hesitates, struck by a sudden, panicked thought:
“You were kidding about the baby, right?”