Work Text:
2.
Matthew grabbing coffee with him and ordering something entirely too sweet, piled high with whipped cream, licking said whipped cream from his lips and missing some, asking Gunwook to wipe it for him when he points it out. He’d noticed the first time it happened how red in the face Gunwook got, and has taken it upon himself to tease him every chance he gets. You know I can’t see it, Gunwook-ah, just wipe it for me. And Gunwook will wipe his lip, let the whip cream dry down on his finger, and then suck it off later when Matthew’s not looking.
3.
Matthew getting on his knees to sift through a box of documents. It’s too heavy to lift, there’s more space on the ground, it won’t take me long to look. His slacks are a few years too old and hugging his ass so perfect Gunwook’s close to pitching a tent in the middle of their office. Gunwook hovers behind him, staring down at his exposed nape, balling his hands into tight fists so he doesn’t do something insane like crouch down and bite him there.
Gunwook’s not an animal, but Matthew makes him feel like one sometimes.
4.
Gunwook’s positive Matthew has an oral fixation, even if it’s a slight one. He’s always toying with his mouth, biting and licking his lips until they’re red and shiny, gnawing on the end of a pen or the straw of his iced coffee, biting his nails. He pokes his tongue out when he’s thinking particularly hard too, and Gunwook bites his own to keep from screaming.
5.
Gunwook’s not the only person who finds Matthew attractive, he’s not the only one who stares and pines and lusts after him. Their manager stares. Looks at Matthew like he’s a piece of fucking meat , openly undresses him with his eyes, feels no shame about it. And Matthew knows. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t complain, he sits in his discomfort, stands in front of their manager’s desk when he’s called into his office for the sole purpose of being gawked at. Gunwook would raze the building to the ground if it meant Matthew wouldn’t have to deal with that.
6.
Bugging Matthew's apartment was both the best and worst thing Gunwook has done for himself. It was simple enough to accomplish, Matthew invited him over, asked him for help with rearranging his furniture, and Gunwook stuck the device under the lip of his bedside table. Easy to find if you’re looking for it, but Matthew never was.
He can hear him so clearly when he settles into bed at night and touches himself. It’s like he’s right there, pressed up against his back, watching him fist his cock. He switches it up sometimes. Occasionally he’ll hump his pillow, Gunwook can tell by the rustling of his sheets and the way his bed creaks when he starts to grind. His soft pants growing more ragged by the minute, his moans turning into frustrated whining until he stops and rummages through his drawer, looking for something, finding it.
Gunwook can tell the exact moment he presses fingers inside himself, he gasps sharply and then holds his breath as he eases them in. Gunwook knows when he’s found his prostate by the wanton moan it pulls out of him. Matthew starts to move again, rutting against his pillow, likely massaging over that little bundle of nerves, making the prettiest sounds. The mic picks up everything.
Even the name he moans.
Jiwoon-hyung.
Jiwoong. Kim Jiwoong. Awful, wretched name for an equally despicable man. They broke up a while ago. It was an ugly thing, Jiwoong had to move away for work, the position was overseas, he didn’t think himself capable of maintaining a long-distance relationship. He broke Matthew’s heart and left soon thereafter. Matthew sulked for weeks, came to work some days completely out of it, and Gunwook picked up his slack so he wouldn’t be reprimanded.
Matthew misses him, moans for him, begs for a man that isn’t there and will not return, imagines being fucked into his sheets by someone who abandoned him.
Jiwoon-hyung…so good…make me feel so good.
Gunwook seethes on the other end of the receiver, stroking himself rough and hard, forcing himself to listen to poor, sweet Matthew whine that bastard's name. He cums like that, spilling into one hand and digging the other painfully into the meat of his thigh.
——
Matthew gets louder when he’s wasted, touchier, rowdy in comparison to his usual quiet and kept demeanor. He flushes all pretty, red blooms across his cheeks and ears, down his neck, and disappears behind his collar. It’s warm inside the restaurant, Matt’s skin is sticky with it, just a little shiny with sweat, Gunwook wants to lick him clean.
At the end of the night, their coworkers raise concerns over Matthew getting home safe. Matthew sways in Gunwook’s arms, stumbling over his feet and slurring his words.
“Gunwook knows where I live!” He says a little too loud. Turning in Gunwook’s hold, he wraps his arms around his neck, stares up at him with half-lidded eyes and a soft grin. “You’ll protect me, won’t you, Gunwookie?” His breath reeks of alcohol, Gunwook wants to suck the spirits from his tongue. He would if he was out of his mind.
Gunwook gets him home and is so excited about handling a drunk Matthew that he’s hard. He doesn’t even try to hide it, Matthew’s too inebriated to notice anyway. He’s so vulnerable, so trusting of Gunwook who’s been watching him for months , has his fucking bedroom tapped, listens to him jerk off at night. He lays Matthew out on the bed—limp and pliable—and starts to undress him. Matthew stirs, has enough of a mind to ask him what he’s doing but not enough to question the answer Gunwook gives him,
“Just helping you get comfortable. Your clothes are stuffy, right?” Matthew nods, his eyes aren’t even open. He’s relinquished himself to Gunwook entirely. He trusts him. He trusts me.
Gunwook gets his shoes and socks off first. He flips Matthew on his back, and Matthew doesn’t stir awake this time. He’s clean passed out, well and truly dead to the world, and Gunwook’s aching in his jeans. He peels Matthew’s pants away, his cardigan, his button up, slowly revealing planes of smooth skin, salivating at the sight. Then he’s straddling his hips and unbuttoning his own pants. Fucking his thighs or rutting between his cheeks crosses his mind, but it’s too risky. It might wake him. He can do this much, Matthew won’t feel a thing.
Gunwook pumps himself as he stares into Matthew’s face, soft with sleep, mouth parted as he snores quietly. His lips are so pink and plush looking, they’d feel heavenly wrapped around his cock, stretched wide and dripping with spit. One day.
Gunwook rakes his eyes over his body, Matthew’s got such a perfect figure. He used to be a dancer, his once athletic build is softer with age, hidden behind a thin layer of fat, sharp cuts of lean muscle and bone have given way to delicate curves. His chest is full and supple, his nipples are hard from the low temperature inside the apartment, and Gunwook has to bite back the urge to swoop down and suck one into his mouth. He loves him like this, loves him any way he comes.
He’s close now, it didn’t take long, and he knew it wasn’t going to. Having this much power over him is dizzying, Matthew looks so cute, Gunwook wants to ruin him, wants to fuck his pretty mouth, wants to lock him up in his apartment and fuck him full, make him round with it, pray it takes. Gunwook’s orgasm rattles him, he twitches and shakes over Matthew’s prone form, stroking himself quickly as he blows his load all over his soft stomach, a portion of it reaching up as high as his chest.
He’s dirtied him, stained his skin, sullied whatever innocence Gunwook had projected onto him, and he looks perfect. Painted in Gunwook’s seed, marked with it, claimed. Mine, he thinks. Matthew is his.
Gunwook climbs off of him, grabs tissue from his bathroom, and just as he’s about to wipe him clean, he stops. Stares at his cooling spend. His eyes flicker to Matthew’s face, he’s drooling.
Gunwook dips down, huffs warm breaths over Matthew’s navel as he hesitates, and then he’s sticking his tongue out and licking a wet stripe through the mess he’s made.
Matthew’s limbs twitch and Gunwook stills, holding his breath, too afraid to even swallow. For a brief moment he indulges in that fear, imagines what it’d be like to get caught, what reaction Matthew would have upon opening his eyes, looking down at his half naked body and finding Gunwook like that, lapping up cum from his skin. A groggy, incoherent mumble and a deep sigh are all he gets before Matthew settles again, blissfully unaware of Gunwook’s debauchery. Gunwook swallows and finishes his task, carefully wiping away any evidence of what he’d done. He tucks Matthew underneath his blankets, turns on his heater, and flushes the tissue on his way out.
Gunwook gets back to his own apartment and can’t even think about sleeping, not when Matthew’s on his mind. He grabs a beer from his fridge, washes away the salty taste in his mouth, grinning like an idiot and warm all over.