The day I tried writing something besides crack part two
Topless and barefoot, Jongdae is half-lying on his kidnapper, on top of the means of his kidnapping, confused out of his wits. He would have to admit that yes, Kris makes for an amazing human furnace, but what exactly are they doing? He wouldn’t define this as ‘cuddling’, because that’s something Kris obviously doesn’t do, but what else could it be? Are they… stargazing? Even the stars in the surprisingly clear after-storm skies are mocking Jongdae with their vibrant glow.
A slight shift to the left proves that, indeed, Kris is still hard. Unbelievable.
“Tell me what you want.” Kris whispers, and Jongdae realizes he’s still expecting him to beg for it.
“Your cock.” he says, one hand moving slowly up Kris’ thigh towards the object in question. “I want you to fuck me. Hard. Till I can’t remember anyone’s name but yours.”
Jongdae splays his fingers over Kris’ covered erection and strokes him absentmindedly, wondering whether he’d yet humiliated himself enough to the man’s satisfaction.
Trust Kris to always find a loophole. “How about Minseok’s name? He ever fucks you hard?”
How dare you bring Minseok into this?! Jongdae wants to scream. That, and to dig his nails into Kris’ dick. And possibly castrate him for good measure. Of course he can’t do any of these, because the reason he’s hours away from seeing his fiance, who must be worried sick about him, is because he still hasn’t given Kris whatever it is the jerk wants.
There’s nothing wrong with Minseok and his love making, thank you very much - even if it’s never just about the sex , but if Kris wants him to outright lie, then so be it. Challenge accepted.
“No. Never. He can’t even find my spot, not sure he knows it exists. Sometimes when we fuck, I think of you and how you used to nail it Every. Single. Time. Have to bite my forearm each time I come to keep from screaming your name.”
“Really?” Kris sounds… surprised.
“Yeah, so why won’t you fuck me? Come on Kris, do it so I can’t sit straight for days. For once I wanna come screaming the right name. Please? Please fuck me, oppa?” Jongdae feels a sudden twitch beneath his fingers at that last word, and wonders whether Kris is altogether stuck batting for the wrong team. Surely there are tons of nice Korean women who would gladly call him oppa.
There’s a palm dangling right in front of Jongdae’s mouth. He thinks he must’ve overdone the sleazy 2k Won porn-talk, and so he’s waiting for the slap that never comes. He does, however, nearly die when Kris uses said palm to angle his face and leans in for a chaste, closemouthed kiss.
Jongdae doesn’t fight him, but doesn’t exactly reciprocate either. He merely allows it, a little disappointed at the loss of heat when, five seconds into the kiss, Kris draws away, hops down to the ground and stalks off towards the driver’s door.
He hears Kris muttering a “Won’t be needing this anymore”, realizing the handcuffs have disappeared along with his ex, and exhales in relief. But then another moment passes, and the chills running throughout his body have become unbearable.
“Kriiiis, I’m freezing,” Jongdae calls out, teeth chattering, “please warm me up? I love it how you’re always so warm.”
When Kris materializes in front of the car, his unnaturally wide grin is positively sinister. “You need a hug, baby?” he asks.
Jongdae is speechless. There are two possible explanations to Kris’ sudden niceness - he’s either banged his head on the doorframe on his way out of the car, hard enough to result in a concussion, or it had been a rhetorical question aimed to mock Jongdae’s complete dependency on his relationships.
He’s guessing it’s the latter.
“I admit you’re a good actor. You can stop pretending now.” Kris dismisses with a flick of the wrist, like Jongdae isn’t this shivering mess on the verge of catching pneumonia. He grabs Jongdae by the tie and tugs, walking backwards till someone’s bare feet hit the ground.
Kris contemplates ripping Jongdae’s pants open, as he struggles against too many buttons and not a single damn zipper. Especially since Jongdae isn’t currently of any help, trying to warm himself up by burying his toes into the sand.
“Stop squirming.” Kris’ harsh tone scares Jongdae into immobility. Having finally undone enough buttons to his fancy, Kris plunges a hand down Jongdae’s boxers and he has to stop there for a bit, because that he hadn’t been expecting. “Did you fucking shave?”
Jongdae’s answer isn’t but a faint mewl, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped behind his back like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Kris expresses his approval of this new discovery by pinching and stroking and feeling up all of that baby smooth skin in between Jongdae’s legs, and now a drastic change of plans is looming over the horizon.
He’d intended on taking Jongdae harder than is absolutely necessary, so as to teach the silly boy what happens when you walk out on the one you obviously belong to, then having him limp back to his inadequate fiance, until next time. And there is going to be a next time; Kris has already ensured it. But now he’d much rather take full advantage of this unexpectedly pleasant surprise.
No matter how hard Kris tries, and he does try - what’s with his fingers leaving angry imprints in the soft skin behind Jongdae’s balls, he’s yet to find a single hair, which means this whole state must be very recent. The thought this might have been a wedding present for one Kim Minseok, when in reality he’s the one who gets to experience it firsthand, is driving Kris crazy with lust.
“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” Kris coos, mockingly, “My birthday ain’t until November.”
What was meant to be a ‘Please get this over with’ from Jongdae, ends up cutting itself into just “Please”, and then some miserable cross between a moan and whimper, when Kris’ uncharacteristically gentle fingers encircle his cock. Kris’ hand is huge, heavy, and it’s so warm and tempting Jongdae’s naive prick can’t help but give a happy sort of twitch under its careful ministrations. Jongdae buries his face into Kris’ shoulder and sobs out in despair, for this is just another moment in their mutual history.
Before he’d learned of his ex’s true nature, Jongdae would often entertain false hope that maybe, just for once, Kris would use his strength to shield him from the world, rather than harming him. But right now he knows better than to take this kindness for anything but the deception it is.
Kris is unable to hold out any longer, what’s with all of this soft skin just begging to be marked, and Jongdae acting so deliciously submissive. He regretfully worms his hand out of Jongdae’s boxers, spins him around by the hips and puts a flat palm to his back, bending him over the cab with both hands outstretched in front of him, supporting his weight.
He steps up behind the Korean, slings an arm around his stomach and draws him towards himself, allowing Jongdae the sensation of a hard cock pressed against his buttocks. Jongdae answers by shuffling on the balls of his feet, maybe even rubbing his ass all over Kris’ confined erection in the process, and then this beautifully strangled gasp falls off his lips and fuck, if Jongdae won’t stop being so responsive in the next millisecond, Kris is going to eat him alive.
Bowing down, Kris trails his tongue over trembling shoulder-blades, not even trying to resist sinking teeth into the supple flesh, which results in Jongdae’s traitorous cock spitting out a bout of sticky precome.
Jongdae is biting his lips raw, cheeks repainting themselves black with brand new streaks of guilt. He’s already promised himself he won’t enjoy this, can’t enjoy this, because enjoying this would only help him cross the very fine line in between martyr and cheater, so how come he can’t help his stupid body from yielding into Kris’ every touch?
He can’t even do anything to properly shut down the waterworks, because that would’ve required him to close his eyes and he’s afraid all he would see is Minseok’s accusation. And so Jongdae allows the tears to stain his face, watching them drip down past his chin, shuttering as they collide with the car below him.
Having yanked Jongdae’s pants and boxers down past his knees, Kris watches him obediently step out of his remaining clothing, and now there’s nothing left but goosebumps and a thin strip of fuchsia fabric around his neck to cover all of that lovely, smooth skin.
“Crap, why are you so pretty?” Kris inquires of the back of Jongdae’s bowed head. When Jongdae shivers, only partially from the cold, Kris grabs him by the hair and pulls, snapping Jongdae’s neck around until their eyes meet and damned if he doesn’t like what he sees.
Jongdae’s face is drenched like it’s undergone a flood. Kris leans down, licking at the salty tear streaks along with sweat and make up, and whatever else is currently on Jongdae’s cheek, and admittedly - this is a whole new level of fucked up. Even for him.
His other hand lands on the small of Jongdae’s back, sliding down the swell of that plump little ass, in between two firm ass cheeks, when Kris realizes motor oil is the closest equivalent in his possession to lube. He’d been planning on hurting Jongdae, yes, but seeing as he’s being such a good boy…
Tracing two fingers and a thumb around an extremely inviting entrance, perhaps gentler than he’d intended to do so, Kris catches himself imagining things. Like how he would lick Jongdae open, spread him out then plunge all the way down that quivering pucker, just so he could feel his Chenchen come undone around his tongue. He bets Jongdae would taste heavenly down there, like soap and musk and just a ghost of something fruity that should probably be classified illegal.
And then he wonders if maybe he should check himself for a fever, because he doesn’t remember feeling this generous in ages.
“Why are you doing things to me?” he asks, not really expecting an answer because Jongdae has been silent word-wise for a while now, sobbing his little heart out about this and that, all kinds of things Kris doesn’t give a damn about. Except for that he generally likes things that make Jongdae cry, what’s with him looking so utterly fuckable while doing it. Kris is genuinely surprised when he does receive some sort of a response.
“Kris, please just… I can’t when you’re… like this…” Jongdae is making zero sense to the Chinese.
“Oh come on, what have I done now?”
Both of Kris’ palms have descended past his ass, petting the back of his thighs in something akin to a loving caress, and Jongdae can no longer take this kind of mental torture. “Stop being so nice about it! You know I’ve only agreed to this so you’d drive me back home, to Minseok, don’t think you can have me running back into your arms and-”
Kris has a theory. He snakes an arm around Jongdae to test it, and sure enough, the Korean is sporting a hard-on, so now he’s babbling nonsense. How adorable. “That’s not very becoming of you, Chen.”
“… stop calling me some made up name. I’ve always hated it.” Jongdae sniffs, cringing because Kris’ forefinger is circling his cockhead, blunt nail barely just dipping into the slit, and it feels so amazing he wants to put a single bullet right through both their brains.
Kris can’t believe himself, but he’s still considering letting these unnecessary outbursts slide if Jongdae apologizes. “And I think you love it, judging by how wet you are just for me. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists! You’re a sadist, Fan. You’re a freakin’ sadist and I hate you, you can never have me back...”
Looks like it’s back to plan A for Kris, the one wherein he punishes this silly boy for thinking he gets to dictate him regarding whatever he can and can’t have. Because if Kris has decided he wants Chenchen back, Kim Jongdae - whoever the hell he is - clearly deserves no say in this.
Having caught Jongdae’s nape in a vise grip, Kris pushes him forwards, until the younger’s arms give out and he collapses on his face.
From his new position, bent in the waist over the hood of the car, left cheek and upper body smashed against the cold, unyielding metal, Jongdae is almost thankful when the first deafening slap lands on his ass, because this he can deal with. This, after all, is the Kris he’s used to - a heartless bastard who takes pleasure in spanking him for very little reason, and Jongdae doesn’t miss this Kris at all.
Except for how he maybe does, if only the slightest bit. Because sometimes, when he was done with him, Kris would leave Jongdae lying across his lap, rubbing Aloe Vera gel into his stinging bottom and telling him how he was perfect. To the point he would anticipate getting spanked simply to hear this one word, without it being followed by slut, or whore, or any of the other questionable pet names Kris had been so keen on during their relationship.
However, this time around Kris isn’t painting his cheeks too many shades of red for his own amusement, but to prove a point, and so the chances Jongdae is getting called anything even remotely nice in the foreseeable future are virtually nonexistent.
Still, it’s getting hard for Jongdae to refrain from bucking his hips upwards. He’s finally managed to close his eyes, though a particularly powerful blow seems to have gone straight into the part of his brain responsible for memories, and clicked ‘format disk C’, because what he envisions isn’t Minseok. In his head, Jongdae is currently in his present boyfriend Kris’ bedroom, waiting for this terrible ‘session’ to be over so the Chinese could praise him for his good behavior.
Afterwards, Jongdae would drop onto his knees in front of Kris, give him a sloppy ‘thank you’ blowjob and then maybe have his brains fucked out against one of the walls. Nothing is going to change, for that’s just how they roll, and it’s not like he would ever want it any other way.
… right?
Jongdae is wiggling about the hood, doing a much better job moaning than your average pornstar, unconsciously leaning into every harsh, yet perfectly measured strike. The all-consuming warmth originates in the areas of impact with Kris’ palm, spreading throughout his entire body, and it’s almost overshadowing the obvious discomfort he’s in, as well as the humiliation of the act. And then, there’s also the part in which Jongdae’s undiscriminating cock is getting great amounts of icy friction from the car…
“I don’t think I like this streak of disobedience. Thought you’d appreciate some foreplay, but of course, you’re too much of a slut.” Kris mutters, once he’d deemed his handprints on the otherwise flawless skin of Jongdae’s ass prominent enough. “You should be thankful I haven’t locked you in the trunk. I know how much you love confined spaces.”
“..’m sorrugh!” Jongdae yelps, because Kris is kneading his thoroughly abused buttocks, hard, and if anything, it hurts even more than the spanking itself had. He’s not even sure what Kris is saying, except for that his voice sounds angry and displeased, and so it’s obviously Jongdae’s job to fix this.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Jongdae isn’t even trying to hold back on the hysterics. “Please, Kris… mmso sorry… dongh be mad at me…ngh.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“For… for.. I’m sorry. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Kris sighs. He should’ve known that, sooner or later, Jongdae would enter that headspace. Too bad he’s gonna try and run away from him again, back to his incompetent fiance, who doesn’t even know what Chenchen needs in a relationship, precisely at the moment reality headbutts him in the face. He gives his naughty ex’s ass one last resounding smack, then watches him crawl away and up the cab.
Just when Kris is about to yank him backwards by the hips, Jongdae arches his back, throws both arms behind himself and spreads his cheeks, presenting Kris with the sight of his completely hairless entrance. Kris considers walking around the car and returning with a flashlight, because the natural night lighting hardly does any justice to that tight pink hole, just begging to be pumped full of his come.
Nearly salivating, Kris pulls his dick out for the second time and, with a few quick strokes, brings himself back to full hardness. He places his palms on top of Jongdae’s, assisting him in spreading his thighs much further apart, then spits down on his hole and stares in fascination as the quivering, puckered ring tries to absorb the liquid.
“Damn.” he blinks. “Say, how long since Minseokie last fucked you?”
Figures Jongdae would by now forget most parts of his vocabulary. As in all parts of it, except for please, Kris/Fan and, for some mysterious reason, oppa.
“Oh well then. Guess I’m in for a surprise.”
Having taken himself in hand, Kris spends an abrupt moment spreading some extra saliva around Jongdae’s crack with the head of his cock, then dives in for the prize. And then he realizes how convenient it is, that the beach they’re currently located at is in fact abandoned… although he did kind of lie about that whole ‘no cellular reception’ part, because the howl Jongdae lets out as he slams into him without so much as a speck of lube is positively ear shuttering.
Jongdae’s hands fall to his sides and he collapses on his chest, trembling and panting so hard his breath fogs up the windshield. He’d been unexpectedly wrenched out of his favorite happy place fantasy - including Kris, him and a public beach, Kris twirling him around in his strong arms for the world to see, while he hangs off the tall Chinese’s neck like a koala, to find out that indeed, he’s at a beach, except for that it’s dark, he’s freezing and Kris is ramming into him so brutally he’s bound to get sucked in and come out of his mouth.
Everything aches.
One of Kris’ hands is on his hip, fingers bruising as they dig into the flesh, declaring ownership and holding him in place, while the other hand is gripping at a fistful of his hair, craning his neck backwards so as to provide him a with a translucent, shadowy reflection of his dirty face in some black car’s windshield.
Wait, wasn’t Kris’ car grey?
He’s getting smashed into the hood with each violent thrust from his boyfriend, and there’s a burning sort of tingle in his buttocks, which is intensified each time they’re met by Kris’ hips. To think about it, Jongdae vaguely recalls getting spanked…
But what hurts the most is definitely his hole. He’s stretched so tight around Kris that he wonders whether he’d once again forgotten to apply the plug, not that he remembers where he’d left it. And yet the immense pressure feels so good, the sharp sparks of pain-pleasure racing up each possible nerve ending in his hot, convulsing channel, his own leaking erection trapped between his stomach and the car, that Jongdae thinks he might come soon, especially if Kris were to hit his prostate. He knows he’s gotta beg for that to happen, though.
“Please Kris… please find my spot…”
Kris is taken aback by the nerve of some people. What’s happened to stop being so nice about it? “You wanna tell me all your principles go flying out the window, the moment there’s a dick up your ass? Are you that much of a whore?”
In this case, the logical thing to do would have been to deny these groundless accusations. Thing is that, in order to speak them out, Kris had leant into the side of Jongdae’s face, breath scalding, voice deep and sultry as ever, and now instead of drawing back he’s essentially tongue-fucking Jongdae’s ear.
“…mph. Yeah. I’mma whore.” Jongdae forces out, needy. Self respect is overrated when Kris is doing that thing with his mouth, sliding down his neck to sink teeth into the pliant tissue. Possessive. Branding.
Jongdae is at a stage wherein he feels so light, boneless even. The only parts of him that feel remotely alive are the ones being touched by Kris. “More… I n-aaahng. Need. More. “
Kris stuffs something into his mouth, a silky piece of fabric hanging off his own neck. Why would he be wearing a-
…tie?
With a soundless scream, Jongdae’s muscles stiffen and now he’s clumped around his jerk of an ex boyfriend so hard Kris’ movements falter, if only for the shortest of whiles. He would’ve spat the tie out, but Kris’ palm is covering his mouth and Jongdae’s nostrils flare as he miserably fails to supply his burning lungs enough vital oxygen.
“So, I take it you’re back from wonderland?”
“Ugh!” Jongdae is unable to part his lips wide enough for a verbal reply.
The Chinese stills, pulling out for merely as long as it takes him to manhandle the spitting and coughing mess of limbs that is Jongdae onto his back and pry his legs apart, then shoves right back in. A bit disappointed Jongdae seems to have returned to full awareness; some part of Kris still can’t help relishing in the perfectly snug tightness of an unwilling partner.
“You know… not that I care, but maybe you should go see a doctor about this spacing out problem of yours. Can’t be healthy.” Kris says, watching Jongdae shuddering in badly concealed delight as he finally relents and stabs the boy’s prostate in the heart.
(Part 3)