on pieces of dyed rays | woosan

Chapter Twenty Five

A slow paced song fills the dark room subtly, and a touch of mellow saxophone makes Wooyoung think it's much sexier than the poor playlist Yeosang made for them the other day. The quality of the speakers are good, with how it sounds like it's filling the air instead of stabbing through it, but what can he expect from San's house?

Illuminated by the faint orange light in darkness, San locks his eyes briefly, with Wooyoung on his bed, then leans down to drop a chaste kiss. He brushes his lips gently downwards, to his jaw, neck, then his bare chest, floating on as if he is appreciating every inch of a magnificent trophy.

"You ready?" San asks as he pulls away slightly.

"Yeah," Wooyoung breathes, anticipation laced in his voice.

Wooyoung has never tried edging.

It was never his thing when it comes to sex, or rather anything, taking things slow. He liked to get to the point, cutting short everything else that seemed prolonging and pointless. Surprisingly though, he seems slightly intrigued to try it now, while it was his offer to do something for San.

San had first denied, saying he is having a great time with Wooyoung and that Wooyoung needn't have a thought like that. It's true that a part of Wooyoung thought San was too giving, and that he owed him a good sex catered to his favour (because that's literally the only thing he can offer), but another part of him probably wanted to explore San's sexual fantasy. Bondage, public sex, deep throating and all other things, Wooyoung wouldn't mind, but edging had never been on that list. Because if Wooyoung's being serviced then what's the point of the offer?

"How the hell will you enjoy that?" Wooyoung had asked, and San laughed, "Oh, you wouldn't know."

"What's your safeword?" San asks from above him.

Wooyoung takes a while to understand what he's been asked, because the concept of caring sex has been out of the window since he ever learned how to have sex.

"Don't have one."

"Do you want to use colours?"

"Sounds lame."

"Okay, we can make one," San proposes.

"I don't think I need one, San," Wooyoung says. "This is me offering you. Do what you want and I'll be fine."

San slumps down on the bed, pouting, and Wooyoung rolls his eyes, propping himself up by the elbows.

"San-"

"You don't have to use it if you don't need to," San says. "But I want you to know you're safe, and you can stop if you want to."

Wooyoung can barely imagine a scenario where San wouldn't stop if he asked him to. He is sure by now that San is the kind of guy who'd stop fucking him, even if he's at the brim of his orgasm, if Wooyoung ever dare disagrees to what he's doing. He's that kind of guy. A rare species indeed.

But if San wants it so badly, then fine, it's just a word, and Wooyoung picks the first word that comes to his mind.

"Kaleidoscope."

And regrets he should have had a thought filter before he slipped that out. Cringinging inside, Wooyoung watches San's smile grow broadly as he repeats, "Kaleidoscope?"

"Yeah." Wooyoung shouldn't be feeling his heart flutter at San smiling softly at him.

"Perfect."

Wooyoung drops his head on the pillow once again as San hovers over him, kissing him, this time with more fervour. Wooyoung is feeling San's tongue exploring the corners of his mouth with shut eyes, when there's a soft brush at the nub of his chest. He exhales in San's mouth slightly as San pinches it with a little more strength, making the tingling feeling zip down his spine.