Hoya wakes up to an empty dorm, all of his bandmate must be already go to their individual schedule without waking him up. Hoya randomly wears the closest clothes he picks from the floor to cover his naked body as he walks out from his bedroom and decides to take a bath. As the tub fills Hoya takes a moment to register the clothes he wears, which happens to be Woohyun's favorite sleeveless white sweater. Sleepily he nuzzle into the collar of Woohyun’s sweater. He inhales, closing his eyes as Woohyun’s clean musk fills his nostrils, and when he exhales, a small sigh of satisfaction curls up from the back of his throat
( ... )
He closes his eyes as he begins to stroke, humming into the sweater as Woohyun’s face appears behind his closed eyes, kind brown eyes shining as he murmurs Hoya’s name.
Hoya…
He swipes a thumb over his slit, gasping when the shock of the touch sends a tremulous shudder through his body. Another deep inhale of Woohyun’s scent goes straight to his throbbing cock, and it’s all Hoya can do to keep himself together as he tightens his hand around himself and fucks into it. A sharp moan rips its way out of his throat, slicing through the silent house and causing a hot blush to flare up across his cheeks.
“Woohyun,” he breathes, the name barely more than a sigh as he squeezes harder, gasping into the humid confines of the sweater as he buries his head in deeper.
Hoya…Woohyun’s wide fingers brushing his shoulder as he fixes the sweater on him. His touch lingering until he’s hovering over him, the breadth of his back filling Hoya’s vision, the scent of his sweat filling his head as he leans down to suck on the tender skin of Hoya’s throat
( ... )
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Hoya…
He swipes a thumb over his slit, gasping when the shock of the touch sends a tremulous shudder through his body. Another deep inhale of Woohyun’s scent goes straight to his throbbing cock, and it’s all Hoya can do to keep himself together as he tightens his hand around himself and fucks into it. A sharp moan rips its way out of his throat, slicing through the silent house and causing a hot blush to flare up across his cheeks.
“Woohyun,” he breathes, the name barely more than a sigh as he squeezes harder, gasping into the humid confines of the sweater as he buries his head in deeper.
Hoya…Woohyun’s wide fingers brushing his shoulder as he fixes the sweater on him. His touch lingering until he’s hovering over him, the breadth of his back filling Hoya’s vision, the scent of his sweat filling his head as he leans down to suck on the tender skin of Hoya’s throat ( ... )
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