Jiong only looked at him once before continuing to drag him along, his hand tightening even more around Xi’s wrist. “You don’t want it?”

They were almost at the bathroom entrance, which was presently (thankfully) deserted. Xi could feel his breaths starting to come short, could feel how hard he was already. Still, he deliberately shook his head, still trying to slow them down. Jiong’s grip was hurting him, and surely in a moment he’d realize it and loosen up, and Xi didn’t know any other way to prolong that slight, tantalizing pain without having to admit it was what he wanted.

Technically, he shouldn’t have felt so reluctant to ask to be tossed around a bit—he’d never felt ashamed of his taste for rough play. But there had always been something, some indication in Jiong’s manner, Jiong’s deliberate care whenever they were fucking, that indicated the topic a sore spot, so Xi had always refrained. But now…

“Get in,” Jiong snarled, just low enough that only Xi could hear it. “You little fucking liar.” Inside the spacious bathroom, there were two women at the sinks, and one tired-looking young man leaning by the wall opposite one of the occupied stalls. None of them looked at Xi, but Xi still flushed. “I said get in.”

Wordlessly, Xi complied, picking a stall as far away from the entrance as possible, feeling the back of his neck get hot with shame as he was half dragged, half pushed into it by Jiong. He knew what it had to look like, knew the way whoever was out at the sinks or waiting in the bathroom would think of him when he finally came out. Couldn’t even wait to get a room, their expressions would say. What a fucking slut.

Like that, just thinking of that, it didn’t take long for Xi to come once Jiong’s hard hands were on him, stroking his cock, teasing it through the thick material of his VR suit. It shouldn’t have been enough stimulation, not enough for him to stiffen in five strokes and drench his boxers with cum, and Jiong took clear delight in telling him so.

“Always this easy, and you dare tell me no?” Jiong’s voice was rough with eagerness and unsteady as anything, and more than loud enough to be heard by anyone in the bathroom. “Look at how hard you are again, already…”

Xi, shaking, couldn’t manage to do anything but keep thrusting into the tight grip of Jiong’s hand. When the punishing strokes slowed, he bit his lip rather than risk being overheard begging for more, only for Jiong to stop stroking entirely, and start in with simple, torturous pinches and squeezes. “Don’t…”

“Hm?”

“Don’t just… hnn…”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tease me,” Xi sobbed, as quietly as he could. He didn’t know how well he was managing, didn’t know how long they had before someone got fed up and reported their lewd behaviour. Karaoke clubs in this area were well known for turning a blind eye to this sort of thing at night, but it was always possible to be unlucky enough to run into a stickler for the rules on the late shift. “Please let me come, please, please—ugh, fuck—”

“You like that?” Jiong had finally gotten round to unzipping Xi’s suit in front, his wicked hands still squeezing and pinching more than they stroked, playing with the sticky fabric of Xi’s boxer shorts. “Turn around.”

Dazed, Xi obeyed, only to be pressed back against the stall door and fiercely kissed. He heard the tell-tale sound of Jiong unzipping himself as well, and couldn’t help but moan, anticipating what would surely come next.

Jiong, breathing heavily, did not waste another moment; he took out his cock and stepped in close, and soon they were rubbing directly against each other, their cocks trapped in Jiong’s tight, slick grip. Xi moaned again, loudly, savouring the feeling of that huge, thick cock rubbing against his own.

They didn’t often get around to doing this in bed, seeing as it was more foreplay than either of them could usually bear to delay the main thing by. Doing it here, in a bathroom stall, felt deliciously, unspeakably familiar, taking Xi right back to the days when the only way to tame the post-performance high was to drag someone off to a quiet corner and swallow as much of their come as possible.

“Slut,” Jiong hissed. “You’re going to come again, aren’t you, you greedy little thing—ngh, coming again and you haven’t even done me?”

Xi couldn’t believe he was already this close, close enough that Jiong could obviously feel it, close enough that he felt as if the next stroke would kill him. He couldn’t respond to Jiong’s low, darkly voiced complaints; he couldn’t do anything but shudder and thrust up into the tight, slick grip around him.

“You need to be punished,” Jiong said, unsteadily, his own thrusts slowing, his grip loosening around them both, only for him to switch focus to Xi, one hand squeezing and stroking Xi’s swollen cock, the other reaching down to twist at Xi’s balls. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to fucking walk…”

He wouldn’t. Jiong was strong enough to do it, and had the stamina to make Xi truly miserable if he wanted to, but he was always so careful, so fucking careful that Xi suddenly couldn’t stand it.

Xi didn’t want to beg out of turn. The last thing he wanted was to step out of the careful ‘no, no, yes’ rhythm they regularly played around with, not just now, just when they’d finally met up after a dry spell, and Jiong had so heavily implied that they really did have something between them, something that wasn’t just the awesome sex. Xi didn’t want to be difficult, didn’t want to touch on obvious fucking sore spots, didn’t like the thought of how it would make him look, didn’t like the thought of the awkwardness that might follow if it turned out that Jiong really couldn’t bear to hurt him even a little bit…

“Hurt me,” Xi found himself gasping anyway. If he couldn’t be shameless with this man, if he couldn’t even ask—“Please, Jiong. Please hurt me.”

For a long, awful moment, there was only silence, silence and the small slick sounds Jiong’s hand made as he deliberately slowed his strokes.

“Jiong…”

“What do you want me to do?” Jiong’s voice had a low, ugly tone to it, and his other hand tightened around Xi’s balls. “You want me to hit you, is that it?”

“N-no, it’s—if you don’t want to—”

“I don’t,” was the next, almost soft response, cutting off Xi’s stammered words. “Impact play really doesn’t do it for me, to be honest. I don’t like it.”

“Oh.” Xi couldn’t help but wilt a bit, hearing that. He could feel the unspoken resignation that went along with it, as if Jiong was expecting the admission to put a rift between them, and he couldn’t really understand that. “But you do like holding me down, don’t you? Could we do that?”

“If that’ll be enough? Sure.” But the mood was already broken, even though Xi’s treacherous cock was hard as ever, and the feeling of Jiong keeping him forcibly still as he wanked him off was just as good as it had always been. “Like that?”

“Yeah,” Xi sobbed, hating himself. “I—I’m s-sorry, I, I shouldn’t’ve said—”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Ssh,” was the low, hot whisper against his temple. “You can always ask me.” There was something unmistakably dirty about hearing Jiong say that, his tone warm with affection even as he held Xi still and brought him off with swift, brutal strokes. “That’s it. Come for me.”

Xi moaned, already losing it, arching forward into Jiong’s relentless grip. He’d totally forgot they weren’t naked, that his come might spurt all over his VR suit and Jiong’s jeans, but by the time it occurred to him to try to keep that from happening, Jiong was already doing it. His palm pressed against Xi’s sensitive, softening cock afterwards, rubbing up and down, the sensation almost painful. “Don’t—”

“You’re so dirty here now,” was the shameless answer. “Can’t jiongjiong help you clean it?” Which very naturally turned into Xi also being forced to ‘help’, mostly by licking his own come off of Jiong’s hands bit by bit, all while having his own hands pressed into filthy, glorious service. “Mmm. Xi-er’s hands are so good.”

“Hurry up,” Xi tried to snap, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he could hear how breathless he was as he said it, how greedy. They couldn’t do much more than this—he had to get back—but this was good too, it’d be enough to have Jiong soil his hands like this and force him to lick them clean afterwards. “Is it—should I—”

“Just need your mouth,” Jiong murmured. “Come here.” But he bent down, too eager to wait for Xi to do more than angle his face up, and then they were kissing wetly. Xi barely managed to focus, struggling to keep up the pace of his strokes despite the distraction of Jiong’s low, brief groans and opportunistic groping.

By the time they separated, Xi was breathless again, and starting to be just a little annoyed at the way things were turning out. “Do you want to come?” he demanded, dragging Jiong’s hand away from his own cock for what had to be the fifth time. “Stop fucking distracting me.”

“Is it really distracting?” Jiong’s tone was disappointed enough that it could pass as innocent, if not for the fact that his other hand was squarely on Xi’s arse, stroking up and down right over the cleft in a horribly tantalizing way. “Jiongjiong doesn’t feel like he’s touched enough yet.”

“We agreed to save all that for later,” Xi muttered. Then, when it was clear Jiong wouldn’t listen, Xi slapped away his hands, shoved him back enough that there was space to kneel before him. “Okay, now you can come back.”

“Ah, but—”

“Get over here.” Jiong didn’t really resist Xi’s sharp tug on his open jeans, didn’t do anything to stop Xi from licking up and down his exposed cock, but his sudden silence showed how conflicted he was. “Mmh.”

Just that brief, low sound was enough to break Jiong’s final shred of resistance. He canted his hips forward, thrusting eagerly, feeding Xi every inch of his thick cock, and very soon he was shuddering, unable to keep from spilling spurt after spurt into Xi’s wet, willing mouth. “You… you know you’re a fucking bully sometimes, right?”

Smirking around a twitching cock was a difficult task, so Xi settled for batting his eyelashes up at Jiong instead. And then adding, after a few minutes to clean up and struggle back to his feet: “A, serves you right; B, it’s not at all my fault you’re so fucking weak to that.”

Jiong’s response was a small, crafty smile Xi had very quickly learned to be wary of. “We’ll see,” he said, giving his cock one quick wipe before putting it away and zipping up. “We’ll see just who’s weak tonight.”

Rolling his eyes, Xi set about tidying himself up as well, keeping one eye on his ominously smiling lover and the other on what he could see of his re-zipped VR suit. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, no, you’re alright,” was the immediate answer. “For now.”

----------------------------------------

With the promise of more debauchery to come, Xi was not just distracted as he waltzed back upstairs and into the room, he was oblivious, smiling, floating with each step. He did all the things he knew he should. He warned Janey and Sylina and anyone else famous enough to need it about the fact that they’d probably need to head out the back door, since it seemed some eagle-eyed fan had realized his stream had come from an IP in Haeguk, and that some people had believed them enough to show up to scope things out. He re-packed his backpack and hefted it along. He made sure the caterers had retrieved everything.

He spent what felt like entirely too long going around glad-handing and catching up, though most of that was done in chat with the music blaring away in the background. He handed over room authority to Hailey and her merry band, and pretended not to notice Eddie entwined with Yuri and possibly also Eric in a shadowed corner behind the stage. He asked after the rest of Jiong’s friends, only to have Jiong pull him close and make it clear just how very little such a question was appreciated. “Cee and Min and Hakon are already gone,” he said, his breath hot against the side of Xi’s neck, his voice just barely audible over the thumping beat. “Ed’s a big girl, she can—she can take care of herself, can we go home now?”

“But,” Xi said loudly, unsure, when it came down to it, why he was really hesitating, “should it—will we go to mine, or…?”

“I’ve a place nearby,” Jiong said. “It’s pretty empty, but it’s really close.”

“How empty is empty? I’m not fucking on the floor, that’s—”

“There’s a nice, big bed, I promise. Can we go?”

[jjcool]: omg get out of here

[jjcool]: me & yuri will close, stop fucking worrying!!

[XiErXi]: i just feel bad, idk

[jjcool]: DO NOT. GODSPEED & GET FUCKED ヽ(*⌒∇⌒*)ﾉ

Xi blushed. When Jiong gave him a questioning look, he just shrugged and began to squeeze his way back toward the door, knowing Jiong would follow him. Every action they took felt strangely magnified; each time Jiong put a steadying hand on his shoulder or stroked the back of his neck, Xi couldn’t help but shiver.

Soon, they were downstairs, then outside, then squashed together in the back of an autocab, kissing hungrily. Then they were on the doorstep of a towering block of flats, then writhing in the lift, because it was empty and dim inside, and Jiong’s place was on the fucking 30th floor and the lift was taking forever to get there.

“I really, really can’t fuck you here,” was the last thing Xi could clearly remember hearing Jiong whisper. “Too many fucking cameras.” Jiong had tortured him anyway, one hand in front and three fingers inside him all the way up to the thirtieth floor, which he promptly regretted once they finally staggered out of the lift and down the hallway and came upon the door to his flat, which sported an old-fashioned keypad lock.

Jiong had to call building management and be very serious and sober as he verified his identity, all after frowning as he tried five different combinations with his (mostly) cleaner hand.

“Serves you right,” Xi said, grinning as he watched Jiong shouldering open the door so he didn’t have to touch it with his hands. And then, very shortly after, he couldn’t say anything at all.

He’d known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that provoking Jiong the way he’d done just now would result in his suffering, but he found that knowing was different than experiencing it. Jiong’s disinterest in impact play and grudging acquiescence to the idea of restraining Xi now and then had somehow translated in Xi’s muddled mind into the thought that Jiong wasn’t much for any kind of BDSM; over the next two hours, he soon found just how much of a misconception that was.

The fact that Jiong wouldn’t outright hit Xi didn’t mean he didn’t have any way to make Xi suffer. Tonight’s punishment was desperation; he brought Xi to the edge of coming over and over and over again, disdaining Xi’s tears, Xi’s plaintive cries, Xi’s furious demands for relief. He came in Xi’s mouth and kept Xi on the edge even as Xi greedily swallowed everything he was given. He came on the sheet, inches away from Xi’s teary face, and then fingered Xi’s tight, slick channel, laughing as he listened to Xi begging to be allowed to lick up his come.

He held Xi down and fucked Xi’s aching arse, pounding in in just the right spot, and then stopping. Fucking in and out in slow thrusts that made Xi’s toes curl. By the time Jiong was satisfied that Xi had been punished enough, Xi was entirely limp beneath him, groaning hoarsely as the orgasm hit.

Xi felt every one of those last few strokes. Jiong’s weight and his wickedly tight grip kept him pinned to the bed, unable to move, unable to do anything other than accept the cock filling him up, pounding in just out of time with the cruel hand squeezing and stroking his aching cock. Coming like that, feeling the sticky warmth of his own come dampening the sheets against his sensitized skin, it was just too good. “Don’t, oh, don’t,” he heard himself saying. “Fuck, I can’t, fuck, please…”

Jiong was fucking into him harder now, and he couldn’t bear it. He didn’t want to bear it, or he did want it, it hurt so much, so sweetly, and he was going to come again like the slut he was, but it was alright, he was allowed to do that now. “Here you are,” Jiong growled. “You needed another load in your arse, right?”

“Yes,” Xi sobbed. “I—oh, oh god—”

Afterwards, it was far too difficult to move. Embarrassed, Xi laid there and let Jiong carefully clean him up, taking the usual liberties along the way. He spread Xi’s thighs wide and slipped his fingers deep into Xi’s arse even as he wiped the come off Xi’s cock and groin and belly. Xi let out a broken whimper when he felt Jiong seek out his prostate again, rubbing firmly. “I can’t,” he gasped. “You—you fucker—”

“Want to bet that I can make you come one last time?”

Xi, already able to feel his stupid, shameless cock twitching again, firmly refused to take that losing bet. Naturally, said wordless refusal didn’t stop the slow, deliberate invasion of his slick, aching hole. Jiong smirked, tossing aside the towel, and bent in over him with a will, and Xi surrendered, widening his trembling thighs just a bit, eager to be taken advantage of once more.