NSFW trash bc I'm Trash by: Thursdays

Part 8: Part 1 of Strays Series By: Thursdays

Summary:

"Fucking say something," Choi Han grunted. "You're such a pillow princess."

"Ahhhn. Ohhh. You're so good, Choi Han."

The deadpan delivery pissed Choi Han off.

"Might as well be fucking a wall," he huffed, and he dug his fingers into the soft, yielding flesh of Cale's thighs.

This time, the moan was genuine.

In which Cale and Choi Han fight like cats and dogs and fuck like animals."You smoke?" Choi Han said, frowning at the stale odor. "You know that's not good for your health."

It was dead of night, and Choi Han found himself perching on the windowsill of Cale Henituse's bedroom yet again.

"Don't pretend you care," Cale said, leaning languidly on the bed. His right eye was still blackened from when Choi Han last punched him, and as Choi Han stepped closer, he blew the smoke into Choi Han's face.

Choi Han's temple twitched. "Go fuck yourself."

Cale smirked. "Not gonna do it for me?"

Both of them knew exactly why Choi Han had come into Cale's room at this hour, and why Cale had left his window unlocked. It was all they ever did.

In response, Choi Han grabbed the cigar and stamped it out on Cale's floor. The expensive cigar crackled into bits.

Choi Han hated the smell of ash and burning ever since the massacre of Harris Village.

He pushed Cale down on the bed, tearing apart the smaller man's clothes like they were worth nothing. It wasn't as if Cale valued anything other than alcohol in his life.

Cale gazed up lifelessly at the canopy of the bed, letting Choi Han strip him as he wished.

Choi Han took little time to prepare Cale. Only a few silent minutes passed before he pushed his cock into Cale's hole.

It was mindless. Meaningless.

But the act, at least, brought them physical pleasure if little else.

->>{+}<<-

It started out like this.

Choi Han asked Cale for help with burial rites; Cale told him fuck no. Choi Han beat Cale up; Cale goaded him into sex.

It was the first time for them both.

One of them was angry and wanting to hurt; the other was angry and wanting to be hurt. Even if neither of them would admit it, they were a perfect match.

And so they sought each other out, again and again.

The scars that Choi Han left on Cale lingered for weeks, and when Choi Han wasn't present, Cale would find himself tracing those scars, pressing down on them for just a fraction of the pain that Choi Han granted him. And he'd claw Choi Han's back when they next fucked, hoping to leave something as lasting on that stupidly firm body.

->>{+}<<-

"Fucking say something," Choi Han grunted. "You're such a pillow princess."

"Ahhhn. Ohhh. You're so good, Choi Han."

The deadpan delivery pissed Choi Han off.

"Might as well be fucking a wall," he huffed, and he dug his fingers into the soft, yielding flesh of Cale's thighs.

Blood welled easily under his nails, the noble's skin being delicate. This time, the moan was genuine.

"What do we even have to- ahhh- talk about?" Cale said. "Just cum in me and leave, like normal."