Chapter Text
His chest felt tight.
Tang Bo exhaled shakily, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was neatly tied and secured under a black cap, every strand in place. Draped over his shoulders and cascading down to the floor was a long, red robe with wide sleeves, tied at the waist with a sash.
The intricate golden embroidery danced along the fabric like fire and a jade pendant hung by his side, a quiet marker of his status, while his single golden earring caught the light, waiting to meet its pair.
There was a part of him that still couldn’t believe this day had come. He was on the verge of marrying the man he had longed for all his life.
No! Tang Bo slapped his own cheeks lightly, snapping himself out of his reverie. Focus! This is not the time to get excited yet.
This was where the hard part began.
The Door Games.
A wedding tradition passed down through the centuries, it consisted of challenges for the groom as a demonstration of his love for the bride… his partner. They're usually set up by the bridesmaids, but in his Hyung's case, the whole Mount Hua Sect.
They're mostly playful and harmless, but Tang Bo knew better than to let his guard down.
And it was quickly proved as the door opened with a swish accompanied by a flash of something shiny hurtling toward him. Tang Bo smirked as he skillfully dodged it. Did Mount Hua forget he's the master at throwing daggers?
"Is that all you’ve got— No! Why are there needles on the ground?!" Tang Bo yelled as his eyes swept the courtyard. The entire courtyard was littered with sharp pins, glinting menacingly in the morning light.
"You bastard think Sahyung is that easy to win?" One of the disciples cackled while the others grinned wide and mischievous.
"What, is this too hard for the Dark Saint ?" another chimed in mockingly. "Guess you'll have to give up."
A wave of laughter rippled through the group, their confidence bolstered by their numbers.
"Tch!" Tang Bo gritted his teeth. Since when does Mount Hua even have this many needles, weren't they a sword sect? "You underestimate my power," he hissed, shifting his weight in preparation.
"Don't try it," one disciple warned with a taunting smirk.
However, Tang Bo will never give up on this, even if you were to waterboard him. With a determined glint in his eye, he launched himself forward.
The Dark Saint leaped with precision, darting between the sea of needles, evading blades that swiped at him from seemingly every angle. His flowing gown stayed pristine, untouched by the chaos surrounding him.
Landing gracefully atop a stone wall with a prideful smirk, Tang Bo glanced down at the disciples, ready to mock them—
Sizzle!
Doesn't something smell like burning?
"Ack!" Tang Bo instantly jumped down the wall, nearly falling into a pit. "You madmen scorched the walls?!" he exclaimed, flabbergasted. "No, when did you even have time for this?"
One disciple puffed his chest out proudly. "Sahyung taught us a few things during his lifetime."
Mount Hua is probably the only sect to take pride in such bandit-like strategies.
Tang Bo's gaze darkened as he sank his hands into his sleeves. An ominous laughter came out of his lips as he pulled out his daggers. "You forget, I'm the Dark Saint!"
Kwing!
Twang!
Thud!
Three daggers embedded into the wall served as stepping stones as he swiftly made his escape. The disciples groaned in surprise and disappointment as they were defeated.
"Elder!" A Tang brat yelled as he threw Tang Bo some more daggers. Tang Bo snatched them midair without breaking stride.
"Thanks!" He called over his shoulder.
***
Just as quickly as he charged ahead, he abruptly skidded to a halt.
"You shall not pass," a commanding voice declared, firm and resolute. Before him stood one of Mount Hua’s elders, his stance unyielding.
"The three questions , huh?" Tang Bo’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a confident smirk. "Ask me… why are you pulling out your sword?!"
"You shall not pass." The elder repeated as he lunged forward, sword ready to attack.
Twing!
Tang Bo brought up his dagger, deflecting the strike with precision. Their weapons locked for a moment, the elder’s sharp gaze meeting the Dark Saint’s.
"What is Chung Myung’s favorite treat?" the elder asked, pulling back for another swing.
"Mooncakes!" Tang Bo shot back without hesitation, spinning out of reach and deflecting another strike. "You'll have to try harder than that!"
The elder hummed in contemplation as he reset his stance. "When does Chung Myung train?"
"Trick question," Tang Bo huffed amusedly. "He skips that!"
The elder stroked his beard. "Then, for the last question," he began, his voice deceptively serene as a plum flower blossomed at the tip of his sword, quickly multiplying into a gust of petals.
"What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen pied falconet?"
Tang Bo faltered—just barely. With a sharp inhale, Tang Bo darted forward. His steps were precise, his blade slicing through the onslaught of petals without hesitation. In a blur, he slipped past the elder, landing lightly behind him, unscathed.
The elder’s eyes flicked to him, impressed as he closed his eyes with resignation.
"Sixty li," Tang Bo answered coolly, his tone unwavering. Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode forward.
***
His steps were firm, carrying a resolve as he approached the final opponent.
"Hello there," a calm, familiar voice greeted him.
"Chung Jin," Tang Bo acknowledged with a curt nod. He was honestly expecting to see Chung Mun, but there is no reason to complain.
Chung Jin extended his hand, palm up in a silent demand. Tang Bo, unfazed, reached into his sleeve and retrieved a card, placing it in the outstretched hand.
Taking it with suspicion, Chung Jin inspected the words written on it.
"Is this all?" Chung Jin glanced back at Tang Bo.
"There's more on the back," Tang Bo replied, his voice steady, betraying none of the nerves bubbling under the surface.
With a flick of his wrist, Chung Jin flipped the card over, scanning the rest of the contents. Folding the card, Chung Jin nodded in satisfaction."A fine dowry, off you go."
"Why, thank you," Tang Bo brought his arms in a small grateful bow and passed him.
As he stepped into the building where Chung Myung awaited, the heavy doors closed behind him with a resonant thud. The sudden quiet made his heart race.
He moved forward, each step echoing in the still room, his eyes fixed on the figure at the far end—the man he would soon call his forever.
"..."
"Hyung-nim?" He called hesitantly.
If he couldn't perceive Qi, Tang Bo might not have recognized the figure before him as Chung Myung. The veil obscured his face, leaving only an ethereal silhouette framed by layers of crimson silk. What purpose does veiling a man’s face serve anyway?
No, even now, a faint doubt lingered—
"This fucking robe is too long!"
It's him!
That sharp tongue and sassy sway of his hips.
"Close your mouth, stupid leech." Chung Myung said, approaching him in a sleek, slow manner. He resembled a predator enjoying the thrill of its ensnared prey.
Tang Bo's throat tightened. "That… Y-you look… uh, Hyung-nim, you…" His words stumbled over one another like clumsy foals.
He should stop, gather his thoughts—but how could he? His brain refused to cooperate. His eyes were fixated on the mesmerizing figure before him, heart hammering so fiercely he swore it echoed in the room.
Perhaps the veil was meant as a merciful barrier, shielding Tang Bo's heart from the overwhelming sight of Chung Myung in his full splendor. Even so, the seductive outline of his frame beneath the flowing crimson silk was enough to send the Dark Saint to his early grave.
No matter how many nights Tang Bo had spent imagining this moment—dreaming of Chung Myung dressed in a wedding gown—it hadn't prepared him for the real thing.
And gods above, he was utterly, devastatingly breathtaking.
"...Are you really that happy?" Chung Myung's hand moved reflexively to his hair, pausing as he remembered it was elegantly pinned high, a departure from his usual ponytail.
"Of course," Tang Bo breathed, failing miserably to suppress the stupid grin spreading across his face. "From today on, we'll be spouses."
"If you like it that much, why haven't you asked before?"
"It was my guarantee that you enjoy my company… that it wasn't a marriage forcing you."
A soft snort escaped from beneath the veil. "You think a marriage could’ve stopped had I wished to leave?"
"No," Tang Bo admitted, his grin turning sheepish. "But it was the greatest proof I had."
"...And now?" Chung Myung pressed curiously. "Are you going to start doubting I like you?"
"Aww, so you do like me~!"
"...We have a child."
Chung Myung's face was indescribable, hidden beneath the veil, yet Tang Bo couldn't resist teasing him all the same. Moments like these—so silly, so mundane—made the atmosphere feel lighter.
"From now on, you'll have to remind me of your love for me every night—"
"Ahem."
Tang Bo froze mid-sentence, the sound of Chung Mun clearing his throat louder than thunder.
Chung Mun eyes Tang Bo as if daring him to finish that sentence, while Tang Bo coughed—though it felt less like an act and more like he was actually choking on his words.
"Should we have another talk before the ceremony?" Chung Mun asked, his tone polite but pointed.
"N-no, sir!" Tang Bo stammered, suddenly standing at full attention.
A few drops of sweat glided down his neck as Tang Bo could almost feel Chung Mun's judgment piercing through him. Then again, it was definitely Chung Myung’s fault—how was Tang Bo supposed to notice anyone else when he was dressed so… enticingly ?
Chung Mun let out a long, resigned sigh and shook his head before stepping closer to the couple. His presence felt almost divine, an aura of solemnity enveloping him as he cradled a modest box. Inside was a vibrant, luxurious thread of bright red silk.
"The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstance," Chung Mun recited, placing the box on a nearby stool and gently unfurling the string.
The couple kept silent and extended their arms with anticipation. The world around them was devoid of noise, only the gentle, musical sound of the wind against a windchime echoed in their ears as the two matching earrings swayed lightly.
It clicked in unison with their heartbeats, and it breathed softly in their ears.
"This magical cord may stretch or tangle…" Chung Mun's voice continued, soft yet steady, as he carefully tied one end around Chung Myung's pinky finger.
There was a brief pause. Chung Mun’s gaze softened as he released Chung Myung’s hand and turned to Tang Bo. He tied the other end around his pinky, completing the circle. "…but it will never break."
With a final breath of acceptance, Chung Mun rested his hands on the couple's hands. The last bit was spoken out of his heart alone. "Take care of each other."
The couple stood side by side, anxiously anticipating their moment to step out as they prepared for the next chapter of their journey together.
It was oddly silent, while the outside bustled with voices that faded into nothingness.
Tang Bo could feel the sweat slowly forming on his arm, the fabric of his robe suddenly too thick, too heavy. His emotions churned in a whirlwind inside him—some identifiable, others elusive.
There was warmth, maybe the robes were too thick.
There was excitement, the uncontainable joy of finally calling Chung Myung his husband.
There was joy, he was about to tie the knot with his beloved Hyung.
There were jitters, as if his heart was still trying to catch up with the reality of the moment.
There was fear, the trials and tribulations they were destined to cross in their path.
There was anxiety, for the future that's to come.
But most importantly, there was Chung Myung, his love that'll never fade.
A thousand words bubbled in Tang Bo’s chest, but none seemed to find their way to his mouth. His hand brushed against Chung Myung's. The tips of their fingers lightly touched.
For a moment, they remained like that—just feeling the slight tremors in each other's fingers.
It seemed Chung Myung was also nervous.
And the world fell into a hush.
Their cue neared.
Tang Bo breathed deeply, but as he did, he felt something wrong.
Dread washed over him as he cursed his choice of the finest silks as the material was too slippery and threatened to fall off his finger.
No!
If anyone were to see this, rumors would swirl—of a fate that wasn't meant to be. That they weren’t truly bound together, after all.
In a moment of panic, Tang Bo grabbed Chung Myung's hand to prevent the thread from slipping off. Chung Myung let out a startled yelp as Tang Bo desperately reached up to secure the knot—
the courtain fell
Hundreds of eyes were on them, so how could Tang Bo explain tying the knot himself?
Some watched with curiosity, others with confusion and disbelief, and a few with embarrassment, as though they had caught them doing something private indecent.
They needed to move, but should they do it like this? What were they supposed to do now? Tang Bo didn't know, he never expected this to happen, he wasn't prepared!
Chung Myung took the first step.
His hand, still tightly holding Tang Bo’s, guided him forward without hesitation, instantly melting his worries. Their pace was slow, unhurried, as if this was just a casual stroll.
The audience, the world, it all ceased to exist.
All that was left, was Tang Bo and Chung Myung.
A blush crept up Tang Bo's neck as he realized the position they were in. They were holding hands! It shouldn't feel like such a big deal… should it?
Thinking of which, didn't they usually drag each other by the sleeves?
It felt warm…
This…
This!
His heart fluttered unexpectedly.
No, why is this more embarrassing than hugging each other at night!?
Such a childish… precious feeling.
Tang Bo squeezed that firm, solid hand and wondered if his Hyung noticed how rare this moment was.
Chung Myung squeezed back, but his face was regretfully hidden. Chung Myung, on the other hand, was glad his violent scarlet cheeks were safe from all prying, perverted, not-giving-a-name eyes.
There was a gentle, cool breeze, still connecting the subtle shift of yesterday's winter with today's spring. Red was everywhere—adorned in their robes, in the decorations around them. Red, the color of joy, of good fortune, of new beginnings.
Tang Bo could barely hear it, but there was also music playing in the air, a distant sound as time ticked.
A hundred steps felt like an eternity.
They passed the empty chairs, everyone stood up to greet them, smiling sincerely. It was a more closed wedding with the Tangs, Mount Hua, Wudang, and a few envoys from Namgung and the Beggars.
A hundred steps felt like the blink of an eye.
They reached the final step. Their fingers interlocked, and for a moment, they shared the same thought, the same breath, before their gazes lifted to meet the end of the platform. There, the Taoist Monk, the Tang Patriarch, and the Mount Hua Sect Leader waited, all sitting in dignified grace.
The Monk stepped forward, his voice loud and clear as he called out.
"The couple has arrived!"
As the Monk unfurled the scroll and began reciting sutras, Tang Bo seized the moment of distraction to swiftly tie the string with only one hand, his fingers twisting around to keep the material secured.
It was painful to let go, but soon it was time for the bows. They both moved as one, a seamless reflection of each other, even in their awkwardness.
"First Bow: To Heaven and Earth!"
In perfect harmony, they arched their backs and lowered their heads, their movements fluid despite their usually carefree natures. They were honoring the gods, the universe, and the greater forces that had brought them here.
"Rise!"
The Saints lifted their heads, the world shifting around them as they moved to the next bow.
"Second Bow: To the ancestors and the parents!"
This bow was more personal, facing their respective elders. They kneeled, their foreheads touching the ground as they offered their respect to their ancestors, their families, and their lineage. Seeking the blessings of those who had come before them, the foundation of everything they were.
"Rise!"
Their movement was smooth, even the tug of their thread was barely felt as they shifted to face each other.
"Third Bow: Towards each other!"
It was the most intimate, sincere bow, signifying their respect and devotion to one another as husbands.
Tang Bo himself felt like crying beneath the heated cheeks.
"Rise!"
He barely heard the announcement of the official union, wishing nothing more than to see Chung Myung's face. Whoever made the rules to see your partner only at the end, in the bridal chambers, should be cursed to have a son with no ass!
As the day wore on, the couple found themselves surrounded by the festivities of the tea ceremony. Tang Bo took it upon himself to serve tea to the senior members of both families, pouring carefully for the elders, and receiving blessings and gifts in return.
They could hardly spend time with their daughter, who was frequently in the care of either Chung Jin or Chung Mun.
The presentation, heavy with gifts, overflowed with offerings from both present and absent sects, went ignored by the Saints. Mere formalities.
At some point, they found themselves holding the string-tied wine goblets, the sweet, sticky liquor flowing down their throats. A little sticky, and not their usual taste, but it kept their thirst satiated for a little longer.
***
When the sun began its descent, the couple stood before the altar, incense curling into the air, filling the space with a calming scent. There was finally a quiet moment they shared alone.
"Hyung-nim?"
"Yes?"
"I want to see your face…"
"Just a little longer."
"Isn't it hard to breathe under?"
"I'm fine."
The words did not reassure Tang Bo, but there was no time to check.
"Alright then, let's get over with this!"
The moment they returned, a wave of confusion washed over them as a single petal fell. Spring had only just begun today, and the plums were not yet in bloom…
The Mount Hua Sect disciples were in formation, synchronizing their movements with flawless precision. The 24-Movement Plum Blossom technique unfolded before the guests' eyes. Their swords cut through the air in elegant arcs as their swords bloomed, releasing a flurry of vibrant, varying shades of scarlet and wine-rosé.
The disciples flew gracefully, and the crowd marveled in astonishment. Witnessing one disciple perform the plum blossom? Yes, more often than not as they were a highly known sect. But to see them all move in perfect harmony—creating a swirling, lush forest of petals—pure fantasy.
Eyes that do not witness, will never believe.
Chung Myung, who stood quietly in the midst of it all, would never admit tearing up, nobody could see anyway.
Tang Bo stood frozen, caught in a moment of awe. Among all these flowers… they were so much different from his partner's, yet none were as beautiful. If he had to choose, Chung Myung's blossoms would always be the most dazzling—like the brightest firefly in the forest—the one that shone like a star.
***
The last part started late, but it felt as if the world had stopped during that spectacular display. The tables were full of laughter, as the atmosphere was set.
And soon, the celebration reached its grand conclusion with a lavish banquet that was nothing short of spectacular.
The long tables were laden with an array of delicacies, each one carefully chosen to symbolize prosperity, happiness, and fertility. Golden-roasted meats glistened beneath delicate sauces, vibrant seasonal fruits burst with color, and intricately designed pastries tempted both the eye and the taste buds.
The guests indulged in the culinary delights as the air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Musicians filled the space with melodies, flowing from lively tunes to soulful ballads, perfectly setting the mood for the evening. Dancers twirled across the room, their colorful robes a blur of motion, captivating the audience.
Heartfelt toasts were raised in honor of the newlyweds, filled with blessings for a future full of promise. The night unfolded like a tapestry, each moment a thread in the grand celebration of one of life’s sweetest joys.
***
Thump!
Tang Bo's heart raced with each step as he led Chung Myung toward the bridal chambers. Behind them, the sounds of celebration echoed, their guests reveling late into the night while the couple had other… matters to attend to.
Once the door clicked shut, a wave of comfort washed over them, allowing them to breathe freely.
"It’s over!" Chung Myung declared, exhaustion lacing his voice, but Tang Bo wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet.
"Not yet," he replied, his hands gently cupping Chung Myung's face, his smile warm and affectionate.
"I want to see my husband's face."
With that, he lifted the veil, revealing Chung Myung’s flawless skin. His eyes were slightly flushed in a drunken-like hue and contoured by modest makeup. To be fair, Chung Myung was already breathtaking. The cosmetics were merely tradition, yet they added a youthful spark to his appearance.
"I missed this," Tang Bo murmured, his thumb brushing over Chung Myung's soft cheek.
Chung Myung's blush depended and his lips pressed, slightly uncomfortable. Tang Bo frowned and kept speaking.
"You… Honestly, I was half expecting you to get annoyed halfway and just run away."
"You seem to hold quite a high opinion of me," Chung Myung growled with a pout.
A light chuckle escaped Tang Bo, "I just wanted to say thank you." He wrapped his arms around Chung Myung, pulling him close in a tight embrace. "Thank you for being my husband."
"...You too."
They settled into a comfortable position, swaying gently like a parent rocking a child to sleep. The warmth between them felt right, almost dreamy.
Chung Myung's eyebrows twitched.
"What are you doing?"
Tang Bo perked up, his expression feigning innocence.
"Well, it's the wedding night."
"And that’s your excuse for shamelessly groping my ass?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
Chung Myung stared at him in disbelief, a hint of incredulity mingling with amusement. "You’re insufferable." Pushing him away, Chung Myung turned to the bed.
"I'm tired, let's just sleep."
Tang Bo felt a jolt of alarm as he caught hold of Chung Myung's robe.
"Wait, wait, wait!"
"What? Let go, you bastard!" Chung Myung snapped, trying to shake him off.
"No, wait, H-Hyung! What about the ceremonial night?"
"We'll do it another night."
"It has to be tonight!"
Tang Bo tugged frantically at the fabric as Chung Myung attempted to escape.
"Let go, why won't you let go?"
"Hyung-nim, husband, dear, please??"
"Nuh-uh! Those teary puppy eyes won’t work this time!"
"Pleaseeeee!"
In his desperation, Tang Bo yanked harder than he intended, and suddenly, the silk robe slipped away from Chung Myung’s sturdy frame, leaving him… not quite naked?
This…
Tang Bo tilted his head, unsure if he was seeing correctly. Chung Myung's face turned a violent shade of red, arms flailing in a futile attempt to cover himself.
That…
A thin, transparent fabric wrapped around Chung Myung’s chest and waist, clinging to his body like a teasing whisper, threatening to slip away at the slightest tug. It concealed almost nothing, the size clearly too small, and whatever remained hidden beneath it gave Tang Bo the tantalizing feeling of a gift waiting to be opened.
The Dark Saint barely remembered suggesting that Chung Myung wear women’s lingerie for their wedding night, more as a joke than anything serious… but now? He definitely wasn’t complaining!
Tang Bo's eyes narrowed into hungry slits, his gaze devouring Chung Myung's form, and his erection twitched impatiently. Well, he did save himself the last few days, maybe weeks.
His body aching, hungry, eager to claim his husband.
"So… thoughts on?" Chung Myung asked timidly, in an attempt to ease the tension. His voice low and husky and Tang Bo's instincts instantly reacted.
"No. Thoughts are currently off."
Tang Bo stalked forward, pushing Chung Myung onto the bed. The sheets were silk, the best in their possession, and yet, they couldn't compare to the feeling of his lover's skin against his own.
"Chung Myung-ah," Tang Bo murmured, his breath hot against Chung Myung's ear, "will you allow this husband of yours to touch you?
"Shameless bastard…" Chung Myung breathed, but there was no real protest in his voice.
"Yes, I am shameless," Tang Bo agreed, his hands roaming over Chung Myung's body. "How could there be any shame between spouses?"
Chung Myung was left speechless.
The two bodies fit perfectly together, bathing in a shared warmth. Their hands freely caressed each other, taking pleasure in each sensation. Every touch was a spark, creating a blaze that soon enveloped them.
Their lips met in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as they tried to get closer, to become one. The desire only grew stronger, an insatiable need that demanded to be fulfilled.
Tang Bo slid his hands down Chung Myung's waist, wanting more than a taste of him, he wanted the whole damn meal. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin, digging under the cloth, he didn't want to remove it just yet; it was a gift from Chung Myung after all.
Maybe he'll take it off later when he's done playing with it.
As the fabric slid over Tang Bo's hands, it felt smooth and cool against his fingertips, but it quickly grew too hot as Chung Myung squirmed in his embrace. Tang Bo sighed, satisfied. This was the life!
"You're a freak," Chung Myung breathed huskily, his voice already thick and heavy.
"Maybe, but you still love me."
"I hate you," Chung Myung panted out.
"Is that so?" Tang Bo leaned over, pressing kisses along the exposed skin. He nipped and licked each spot, making his lover shiver in delight. His hand slid under the cloth, cupping that butt and giving it a rough squeeze.
"Your body says otherwise~" Tang Bo licked and bit the earlobe before pulling away.
Chung Myung bit back a tormented moan."Stop teasing me and just—"
"Just what?" Tang Bo asked innocently.
No, this leech dares play dumb?
Chung Myung tilted his head to the side, refusing to look Tang Bo in the eyes, and promptly shut his vocal cords.
"Ah, n-no, Hyung, I'm sorry!" Tang Bo stopped to placate his lover. "I was in the wrong, forgive this foolish and stupid newlywed spouse."
"I want a divorce," Chung Myung grumbled, but there was no real conviction behind it.
"No!" Tang Bo desperately pleaded. "I'm sorry, I was wrong! Hyung-nim, you don't actually mean it… do you?"
"Agh!" Chung Myung couldn't stand it anymore and grabbed Tang Bo's head. "Just fuck me already, you crazy bastard!"
In a flash, a bottle of oil appeared in Tang Bo's hand, and he poured a generous amount over Chung Myung's body, his hands massaging the slick liquid into his lover's skin.
Tang Bo's fingers kneaded down Chung Myung's center, over his chest, down his stomach, and over the round ass he craved to be inside. He pushed two fingers in, curling them as Chung Myung hissed a gasp, spreading his legs wider.
Tang Bo gave him a few moments to adjust before moving inside. With each slow thrust, Chung Myung clenched around his fingers, still as tight as ever. Once his lover was writhing beneath him, Tang Bo added a third finger, scissoring the insides in preparation.
Tang Bo crooked his finger and hit that spot, watching Chung Myung twitch, gasp, and shiver around him. His gaze was entranced by the way his partner squirmed, the flush spreading over his face and the sweat forming over his body. His cock throbbed at the sight.
"Husband..." Chung Myung whimpered with hunger. "More..."
"!!?!!?!"
Wasting no more time, Tang Bo's two fingers were soon replaced by his cock, sliding inside to fill Chung Myung in a way that only he could do. His hips moved in a slow, calculated rhythm. Each push and pull sent pleasure through Chung Myung's soul and made him tremble more beneath him.
Tang Bo groaned as he slowly increased the pace, turning Chung Myung into a mess of whines and moans.
"Haa— ah, ah, ah~"
"Hyung-nim..." he called out of habit, only to notice the lack of response almost immediately. Jealousy filled his chest as he watched Chung Myung. On their wedding night? Not on his watch!
Tang Bo stopped abruptly, and Chung Myung's protest came instantly
"What are you— T-Tang Bo?"
The Dark Saint pretended not to hear as he flipped Chung Myung onto his fours.
"How cruel of you, to leave me alone on this night!" He sighed dramatically, climbing onto Chung Myung's back before shoving himself back inside. Chung Myung's body rocked back and forth as he realized his predicament.
"B-Bo-yah, I'll fall!" he yelled, putting his strength into his arms and legs while Tang Bo rode him impatiently.
Once again, his words were ignored, and Tang Bo continued to plunge and stretch him deep. It felt so good that Chung Myung could feel his eyes roll— No, he can't!
If his mind left now, they would fall, and it would all come to another abrupt stop. Chung Myung was forced to stay aware.
"Bastard! Didn't you say you wanted to see my face?" he tried to reason, but Tang Bo was determined to have his way.
I feel like my lower stomach is going to burst!
Tang Bo slowed his movements to grab Chung Myung's chin and lift it straight. There was a huge mirror by the bed, showing his entire shameful appearance.
"Isn't my husband handsome?" Tang Bo cooed, his voice filled with adoration."Look at yourself, taking my cock so well."
No, Chung Myung wanted to protest, but all that came out was a strangled moan. "Hng— Aah!"
His eyes widened at the debauched sight reflected back at him in the mirror. His hair was wild, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from Tang Bo's kisses. A thin stream of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth as Tang Bo's thrusts rocked him forward, his tip faintly outlined on Chung Myung's stomach each time Tang Bo's hilt pushed against Chung Myung's buttcheeks.
Was this what Tang Bo always saw?
His eyes burned with a pricking sensation and Chung Myung closed them, trying to erase the image of himself, but this only made the other situation worse.
Usually, he would let his mind go blank, but now he had to stay aware so they wouldn't fall. He could feel every pump, every thrust down to the most subtle detail. With his eyes closed, he couldn't even anticipate that bastard's hands finding his nipples.
"Uhg, h-ugh!"
"See what I mean?" Tang Bo crooned. "Even your noises are beautiful. So musical, I could listen all day."
Chung Myung buried his face into the sheets to muffle his whines as Tang Bo rammed inside him.
"Fuuuck…"
His legs trembled as if he had a fever, and his ass felt like it would split open any minute now. Yet... it felt so damn good . He could feel himself gushing, his ass overflowing and his muscles on the verge of giving up.
There was no energy left, his lower body ached, and he wanted to collapse. Chung Myung's whole body felt both hot and cold, covered in sweat like a river.
"I can't—" he cried out."I'll faall~Ahh!"
Tang Bo leaned over him, the fabric rubbing against his ass, and bit Chung Myung's ear.
"You'll be fine, Hyung," he murmured. "You're strong, my man, my husband." Tang Bo's tongue licked down Chung Myung's neck, sucking the sweat as he whispered sweet nothings to him, all the while his hips kept thrusting inside.
"Ugh— uuh— Tang Bo—ah!" Chung Myung's voice was filled with pleasure and exhaustion.
"Hmmm, what?" Tang Bo teased with satisfaction.
"I… I'm—"
"I know~" Tang Bo hummed. "My hubby is such a good man, you'll endure it for me."
That bastard!
Despite his complaints, his hole clenched, the muscles contracting over Tang Bo's cock. There were too many sensations that he could no longer differentiate.
"Uwaah—!"
Tang Bo was barely holding back when he felt Chung Myung explode beneath him, cumming on the sheets as he orgasmed. His muscles clenched and unclenched violently around him.
I didn't even touch you there. Tang Bo remarked silently. He's teasing alright, but he doesn't want to play with fire too much.
He sped up his thrusts to match the contractions, and the two cried out in unison. Their bodies clenched as the pleasure peaked, the air around them feeling like a burning flame as Tang Bo came inside.
As round one was over, Chung Myung collapsed under Tang Bo's weight, the sheets underneath them soaked in cum and sweat. The silk cloth around his waist was in tatters, and his whole body trembled under the aftershocks.
Tang Bo was panting while admiring his husband's face until his actions dawned on him.
"Ah! Hyung-nim, I'm sorry— I don't know what came over me…"
Chung Myung doesn't remember ever being fully awake to feel every action with such clarity, much less his climax… To be honest with himself, it felt good.
"Really? It felt good?"
Fuck, he just thought out loud, didn't he?
Well, whatever.
"Take it off," Chung Myung commanded.
"What?"
"My clothes."
"A-ah, yes!" Tang Bo devotedly slid the material away and waited for the next command.
Chung Myung flipped himself on his back and calmed his breath. Sure, feeling everything is kind of good, but it doesn't compare to the usual experience.
Grabbing his thighs, Chung Myung brought his knees to his chest, exposing his shameless hole to that pervert's eyes.
"Fuck me properly."
"As you wish, your majesty!" Tang Bo faithfully grabbed that finely sculpted body and fucked Chung Myung into sweet oblivion.