Summary: Things grow complicated with rich guy Seonghwa after turning his offer to go on a date down only to discover that perhaps you are closer with him than originally believed.
Word count:11k
Genre and warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. mentions of drinking. dirty talk, reader is called “slut” and “whore”. fingering. squirting. unprotected sex. creampie.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
The pizza tastes more like grease than actual food, the building is far too crowded, and there are not enough chairs at the table.
So, in other words, it is a typical Friday night.
“Woo stole half my slices,” You complain to no one in particular, the same thing you say every Friday night when you and your friend group descends upon the pizza place near Hongjoong’s apartment building.
Wooyoung, who is halfway through his fourth piece, grins at you with a full mouth. You go to kick him but Yeosang yelps instead. Whoops. San is over by the jukebox, spending ages picking a song. This is how it always goes.
The pizza place is one of those hole in the wall businesses that has a clientele just of locals. The food is cheap, the beer cheaper, and the neon signs a little too bright, warping everything just enough to make the place feel surreal.
Every Friday, your friend group piles into the building, taking up half the restaurant in a noisy pile. This is how it has been for a few years now with little change. It is a comforting routine, one that has yet to be displaced in your life.
Your phone buzzes in your lap, drawing your attention from the stolen pizza. Glancing downwards, the name winks up at you: Pen Pal.
Checking to make sure that your friend next to you isn’t paying attention (and she isn’t, having secretly harbored a crush on Mingi for two years now, too busy staring at him to notice anything else), you open the text.
“Another Friday night and I’m thinking about you in my lap.”
You fight off a smile, not wanting anyone to ask what has captivated you. It is too difficult to explain that a text sent to you accidentally instead of the right number six months ago sparked off a series of sexting messages that continue to this day. How do you try to tell a person that you sext a total stranger, have never seen them, and know nothing about, including their name? The person apologized for the wrong message sent late one night, which had been risqué, and the two of you kept texting. One thing led to another and now you regularly sext with an anonymous person. People would think the situation is odd although you don’t know how it is any different than what others do online regularly.
You are about to reply when the table jolts and a curse flies through the air. Startled, you look upwards to see Hongjoong apologizing for spilling beer all over Seonghwa’s plate. Seonghwa has a slight scowl on his face although it is difficult to gauge if it is his regular one that he wears often or from the beer spilling.
Out of everyone in the friend circle, it is Seonghwa that you know the least. It isn’t that you dislike him or anything. But there is a disconnect between him and everyone else; it simply boils down to the fact that Seonghwa comes from money, a lot of money, and can be out of touch because of it. Hongjoong had met him back in college, the two striking up a fast friendship, and therefore ushering Seonghwa into the circle.
Your conversations with Seonghwa have been minor. Even though he is objectively stunning to look at with his slender frame, high cheekbones, and slightly aloof manner that seems to have people tripping over themselves for his attention, you have kept your distance. He has always gotten whatever he wanted, including people, and you find it off putting.
Hongjoong is trying to mop up the beer off the slice of pizza with a napkin as Seonghwa looks down at it distastefully.
“It’s fine,” He cuts off Hongjoong swiftly, “I’ll just buy another slice.”
“Why don’t you buy the whole pizza place while you’re at it?” San remarks as he returns to the table, Woo cackling at the joke.
“I would but I doubt this place turns a profit. Amazing it is still here.” Seonghwa replies coolly, standing up. “Does anyone else want anything?”
Naturally, Wooyoung does. As people shout their orders, your attention turns back to your phone, typing up the reply, “Now doesn’t that sound comfortable?” It is exciting to text someone that has no impact on your life, no strings attached, just mindless sexting without anything else to worry about.
Your friend nudges you, shattering your thoughts as you glance upwards. “What?”
“I asked if you need anything.” It is Seonghwa who is speaking directly to you, his phone lighting up in the palm of his hand as he shoves it in the pocket of his designer jeans.
“Nope, I’m good, thanks.” You reply, turning your attention to your friend.
That has always been the extent of your conversations with Seonghwa.
Until tonight.
*
It is close to midnight when everyone begins to amble home. You live close enough to walk and are shrugging on your jacket when your phone goes off again. You check the message from the anonymous pen pal which says boring night, would rather you were sucking my cock. The message makes you both blush and feel a heat in between your legs.
“Hey, come on,” Your friend nudges you, leaving the message unanswered for the moment.
Leaving the pizza place, stepping out into the city, a swirl of Friday night activity, everyone begins to head in different directions. A few wait for Ubers, others opt to walk, and some, like San and Wooyoung, are going to another bar. Seonghwa is waiting for his limo, off to the side, away from everyone, checking his phone.
“You want me to walk with you?” Your friend offers.
“Nah, it’s only like a five minute walk. I’ll text you when I get home,” You nod at Hongjoong who passes by, his apartment in the opposite direction of yours, “Talk soon.”
A group piles into an Uber, leaving just a couple left now. As the night comes to a close, you begin your walk. On the way past Seonghwa, his head snaps up and he begins to trail after you. Curiously, you stop, looking over your shoulder.
“Uh, hey.” You say, unsure of his sudden focus shifting like this.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
Your curiosity hitting an all time high, you turn around to face him. Seonghwa is wearing just a simple black t-shirt and jeans but you aren’t fooled. The clothes easily cost more than a month’s rent on your tiny shoebox apartment. His cologne even smells expensive. His black hair has not a strand out of place even though it is windy tonight.
“Yeah, what’s up?” You are wondering if going to get iced coffee again in the morning would be a bad idea because you have already justified “treating yourself” to it multiple times this week, your focus already drifting away from Seonghwa.
“I wanted to ask if you would want to go out sometime next week on a date.”
All thoughts of iced coffee are quickly expunged from your brain. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Surely, you have misunderstood.
Impatience creeps slightly into his voice as he says the same sentence again. Confused, you can only stare at him for a few seconds before going, “Why?”
He seems taken aback by this. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you asking me out? We barely talk. I know we see each other a lot because we have friends in common but I don’t understand what brought this on.”
Seonghwa looks genuinely confused. His brows furrow, his head tilted slightly to one side, lips pursed as he thinks about your question. For some reason, the fact he doesn’t have an answer at the tip of his tongue annoys you.
“I just thought you’d want to go out with me.” He finally replies in the same questioning tone.
This brings you up short. “What is this, some sort of favor to me? Did you go down a list and see you hadn’t asked me out yet or something?”
“Well, you’re always talking about how you don’t get to do anything fun because you’re on a budget so I thought I’d do you a favor and ask you out.” The light from a nearby neon bar sign bathes him in a blue hue, making him look like he has stepped out of a painting. When a strong gust of wind kicks up, his hair finally moves slightly, bringing his appearance back from other worldly to grounded in reality.
You don’t even know how to reply and for a few seconds, you are speechless. His words and attitude are so offensive that all you can do is stare at him as if he has grown a second head.
“What?” He asks, somewhat defensively, “I don’t understand why you look upset.”
You take a step towards him, looking at his face – his perfect face, with the blue neon smattered lightly against high cheekbones, his eyes hazy with confusion, his hands jammed into his pockets. “You are not doing me a favour by asking me out, Seonghwa. I’m not some poor person you can take pity on and think you are doing charity because you want to dazzle me with your money. I don’t care that you’re rich.”
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, looking slightly exasperated now. “Fine, I get it. You don’t care about my money. Everyone says that at first. But it simply isn’t true. Everyone cares about money. So, let me take you out.”
You suddenly feel a sharp pang of pity for the handsome man in front of you who has been lucky enough to find a friendship with Hongjoong. In that friendship Seonghwa has found the only man on the planet who hasn’t been impressed by his money or attempted to manipulate him to gain closer access to wealth. How many times must have Seonghwa mistakenly believed that his only asset is his wealth – to the point that he flaunts it so openly to garner attention? Suddenly, you feel as if you understand him more than ever before like a dirty mirror being cleaned.
“No, you misunderstood. I don’t care about your money because I don’t care about you in that way, Seonghwa.” You say gently, knowing that the only thing you can gift him in this moment is the assurance that his wealth is not even a passing thought for you and certainly not a reason to go out with him.
Seonghwa is startled into silence. You take one last look at him, fighting the urge to gently pat him on the shoulder, aware that no one has rejected him before. Then, you turn around and begin your walk home, leaving Seonghwa standing in the blue light.
*
It isn’t until the following weekend that you see Seonghwa again although admittedly you give him asking you out very little thought. What is there to think about? Seonghwa believed that dating him was like winning the lottery. It was the most off putting manner someone had ever asked you out.
Even so, when you walk into San and Wooyoung’s apartment Saturday night, it is awkward to see him. Standing in the corner next to Hongjoong, in a pair of grey slacks and a light brown long sleeved shirt that is cut in such a way that it exposes some of his chest, with not a hair out of place on his head, Seonghwa looks impeccable as always. He is listening to Jongho although he seems to sense when you enter, his eyes flicking upwards to land on you. His gaze is unreadable simply because you don’t know him well enough to properly gauge what he is thinking. He only looks at you for a second before turning his attention back to Jongho.
At least twice a month, San and Wooyoung hold a party at their apartment. They moved in three months ago, and since their place has an impressive balcony, they love to entertain. By leaps and bounds their place is much nicer than your own, and it was always fun to come over and hang out.
You pop out onto the balcony to say hello to them before making your way through the small cluster of people to the kitchen. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, momentarily getting your attention.
“Your turn.” is all the message says.
The past hour, you have been texting your mystery person, discussing kinks. It is your turn to share one although you don’t get a chance to because it is at that moment that Yunho bustles into the kitchen, pulling you into a conversation.
It is about ten minutes into this discussion when Seonghwa enters the space. His eyes slide over you as if not even there, landing on Yunho.
“I have the money from earlier this week.” Seonghwa announces.
Yunho looks surprised. “Don’t worry about it. It was just a coffee order.”
“Even so.” Seonghwa says, shoving his hand in his pocket to drop his car keys on the counter, along with his phone. Then he pulls out a thin stack of money, handing Yunho ten dollars. You cannot imagine what sort of coffee Seonghwa ordered that cost a full ten dollars and you aren’t sure that you want to know. Even spending six bucks on an iced coffee is hard enough to justify to yourself, a bad habit that you struggle to break, your one vice.
You try not to look at him as he hands the money over but you do spare a quick glance. You went from barely noticing Seonghwa in the friend circle to now being acutely aware of where he is. You wish that he hadn’t asked you out…or at least hadn’t asked you out in such an insulting manner.
He snatches his car keys off the counter and leaves as Yunho turns his attention to you. “What was that about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You two. Weird tension going on there.”
You sigh. “We had a disagreement of sorts. You know how Seonghwa can be. Sometimes his money makes it feel as if he is from another planet.”
“He can be oblivious, yeah, but he’s a good guy.”
“What makes you say that?”
Yunho pulls a beer out of the fridge, giving a small shrug. “I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right?”
Mingi pops his head into the kitchen, looking very excited, “Yunho, we’re going to start the grill up.”
At the prospect of grilled meat, all thoughts of Seonghwa and weird tension are gone. “Oh, I gotta go. Good talking to you!” He says quickly, practically darting out of the room.
The kitchen is now empty and you feel strangely alone. I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right? The words bang around in your head for a few seconds as you grab a beer and lean against the kitchen counter, pulling your phone out of your pocket again, chewing on your bottom lip, thinking of something to say back to your pen pal.
Yet your mind goes back to Seonghwa, standing on the sidewalk in the blue neon light, your rejection loud in your head. No, you misunderstood. I don’t care about your money because I don’t care about you in that way, Seonghwa. Some part of you wonders if your words were overly harsh. But the other part of you thinks they were fine – he had been insulting, after all, regardless of if he meant it or not.
“Don’t you think that you learned enough about me tonight?” You tease back in the text, hitting send.
A phone goes off on the counter, causing you to flinch. Turning your attention downward, you realize that Seonghwa has forgotten his phone, most likely because he was scurrying to get away from you. Frowning, you lean forward to peer at the screen. The text message alert just says it is from someone called pen pal.
You stare at the phone, breath catching, for a few seconds before it goes dark. Has to be a coincidence. Weird timing. And pen pal is common. Doesn’t mean…You swallow hard, the words seeming hollow inside your head. You wonder if Seonghwa has a lock on his phone and then quickly chastise yourself. What makes you think that it is okay to go through his phone? Even so, you stand on the precipice of throwing your morals away. It isn’t like I am snooping. I’m just going to check one text message and make sure that it isn’t him. Your hand hovers over Seonghwa’s phone, which is the latest model that you aren’t even sure has officially come out yet, so close yet tantalizing out of reach –
Only for Seonghwa to sweep back into the kitchen. Startled, you smash your hand down on the counter with your open palm next to his phone. Seonghwa stops, looking at you curiously.
“Bug.” You explain, “Don’t worry though. I took care of it.”
“Right.” Seonghwa replies dryly, “I forgot my phone.”
He comes over, standing next to you as he picks it up. But instead of leaving, he leans forward slightly, just enough to pop your personal space bubble. Some of his hair falls in front of his face, grazing against his cheek. His eyelashes are dark smears against his skin. You can smell that expensive cologne again.
“You want a napkin for the bug?” He asks casually and you know he doesn’t believe your lie.
“Nope, I’m good.” Your voice is filled with an artificial tone.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before pulling away, leaving with the phone in his hand. You exhale slowly, following him, unlocking your phone and bringing up your text conversation. In the dining room, your friend motions for you to come over. You know she is going to want to discuss Mingi. You hold up your hand and gesture to your phone, pretending like you need to make an important call. She motions for you to meet her on the balcony and ducks out of the room once you nod.
Going to the corner, you stare at the phone screen. There is an unwritten rule between you and the sexting partner that calling is out of the question. Everything exists solely through texts. If you call, and have misunderstood the situation, there is the potential of ruining the fun. But you know that not calling will result in brooding and overthinking about if the universe would truly be as cruel as to make Seonghwa the person on the other side of the screen.
Seonghwa is in a small circle of Hongjoong, Yeosang and a couple of other people you only vaguely know. The space has a few people roaming about, mostly because San and Wooyoung have put snacks out on the table. The music has increased slightly in volume since arriving, indicating that the party is about to be in full swing.
Steeling yourself like a young kid going on their first rollercoaster, you press the button to call your pen pal and bring the phone to your ear. Your chest feels as if it is covered in a layer of thin ice – one misstep and it will shatter, plunging you in the depths.
Seonghwa’s phone goes off loudly. He looks down at it, his brows furrowing. You cannot see the screen but you can imagine he must be frowning because the unwritten rule is being broken. He brings the phone upwards –
“Hello?” Says a voice at the other end of the line as well as from across the room, the word toppling out of Seonghwa’s lips in slow motion, a visible heavy thing that lands with a solid thunkacross the ice, shattering it completely. Your stomach swoops violently and it is then that Seonghwa looks up.
You can see the realization dawn on him immediately, the way the pieces click together as he lowers the phone slowly, staring at you. Hongjoong nudges him, asking what happened. It is that movement that snaps you out of your own staring. Ending the call, you hastily put the beer on the table and cut through the kitchen, anxious to get out of the apartment. Logically, you know that it is rude not to tell your friends that you are leaving already. But the mortification of having been sexting Seonghwa for months combined with your rejection of him just a week prior is making the entire apartment feel too small and cramped for your liking.
The next couple of minutes are a blur, from the hallway to the elevator to finally spilling out into the night air. The sun has dipped below the horizon, a dark blanket across the city. You decide just to walk home. That will clear your head. On second thought, maybe you’ll stop at a bar and get a drink somewhere. That might help dull all the emotions that are vying for your attention –
“Are you really running off?”
The voice shatters your thoughts. Looking over your shoulder, you see Seonghwa exiting the building. A thin brown jacket is casually tossed over his shoulders, his hair slightly messy for once as if he had run his fingers through it excessively on the way down.
“This is embarrassing enough, don’t you think?” You cross your arms as he approaches.
“Actually, I find it amazing we were able to text each other this long and not somehow find out sooner.”
“Well, it’s difficult to find out when we are both glued to our phones.” You grumble.
A silence passes. In the distance, there are sirens. A car drives by blaring music. Seonghwa shifts slightly, and you get the sense that behind the façade of calmness, he also finds the situation awkward. You aren’t sure what to say to the man who you have been sexting for months – it is like you know him in the most personal way possible yet not at all.
“I’m going home now,” You declare when he doesn’t say anything, “I would appreciate it if you don’t tell Hongjoong about this or anything we texted about. It’s personal. You understand.”
“Wait,” Seonghwa says, taking a step closer, “Come get a drink with me.”
With a sigh, you reply, “I don’t want to go out with you. We’ve established this.”
He gives an impatient shake of his head. “We hit it off texting. A simple number error and I texted you instead, we were flirting in seconds and sexting that night. And it’s been like that for months. Don’t you wonder how we can hit it off so well like that and barely speak to one another in real life?”
“We have absolutely nothing in common, that’s why. Half the time you’re not around because you’re jet setting off to some exotic location just for fun, the other half you’re unapproachable because what could I possibly talk to you about? How the shirt you bought cost more than my rent? How you get around via limo?”
There is a fevered glimmer in Seonghwa’s eyes when he replies, “But when all the differences were gone, we hit it off just fine. We had a natural chemistry.”
He isn’t wrong but you don’t want to admit it. “I just don’t understand how the Seonghwa in the texts and the Seonghwa who asked me out as if doing me a favor are the same person.”
“So, have a drink with me and find out.”
You hesitate. If it had been anyone else, going out for a drink would be a no brainer. The fact is you are still a little sore over how he asked you out as if you were a charity case. But it is impossible to deny that the sexting conversations with him had a natural chemistry, one that began immediately upon realizing he texted the wrong number.
You wonder why Seonghwa cares this much to follow up on such a thing before remembering what you thought when he asked you out – how his money can buy him attention but how many true friends can it give him outside of Hongjoong? Hadn’t you pitied him in that moment?
“He can be oblivious, yeah, but he’s a good guy.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t think Hongjoong would be best friends with someone who wasn’t, right?”
“Fine,” The words pop out of your mouth, “But just one drink.”
Relief crosses his features so quickly that you might have imagined it. He pulls out his phone, going, “I know a great place downtown –”
You hold up your hand. “Nope. No. I’m not going to some fancy place in the financial district where a cocktail costs thirty bucks or something ridiculous.”
Taken aback, he blinks. “Uhm. Where are we going to go then?”
It is your turn to pull out your phone, bringing up the map, scanning some places. “There’s a place the next block over. We’ll go there.”
Seonghwa still looks perplexed. You don’t know if it’s because he isn’t planning the event or because it will be outside of his cushy comfort zone. But he follows when you take off in the direction of the bar, not protesting. You pretend to be paying extra attention to your phone, as if the way to the bar is so complicated it simply has to be navigated with strict concentration, and not because you are acutely aware of how weird this entire situation is.
It doesn’t take long to reach the location. The bar is a hole in the wall sort of place, easily missable if it weren’t for the blasting of generic rock music every time the door swings open. You look over at Seonghwa, who looks as if he has just stepped in dog shit.
“What is this?”
“It’s called a dive bar. I can Google it for you.”
He composes his feature into an elegant expression of haughtiness. “I know what a dive bar is.”
“Then why did you ask?” When he frowns at this, you go, “Come on.” and enter the building.
Since it is Saturday night, the place is filled. The music is loud, the place stinks of cigarettes and booze, with people playing pool in one corner, darts in another, and a crowd at the bar. Seonghwa, who has turned into the equivalent of the standing emoji, looks completely out of his element.
“You and Hongjoong never went to bars like this in college?” You say, your voice raised to be heard over the music.
“Uhm, no.” Seonghwa replies – you can’t actually hear him but can read the reply on his lips.
You laugh and take off towards the bar, Seonghwa trailing behind. Pushing through the crowd, you manage to find two people leaving near the corner, and with a little extra nudging, score the seats for Seonghwa and yourself. Seonghwa glances at the barstool briefly as if checking for spilled beer and then sits on it primly.
You had to give him a little credit, you think begrudgingly, he hasn’t complained once.
When the bartender comes by, you order. Seonghwa orders a beer you haven’t heard of – and neither has the bartender.
“What is that? I don’t have that.” He barks at Seonghwa impatiently, “Pick something on tap, kid.”
“Kid?” Seonghwa sputters before you cut in and order for him.
A few seconds later the beer is poured and slid over to the two of you, the bartender leaving immediately to deal with other patrons. You take a sip of yours as Seonghwa looks at his glass distrustfully.
“What is it?” You ask.
“Nothing, I just…I don’t think this glass was as cleaned as it should be.” He replies, eyes darting over to the bartender and then to the chalkboard with the list of beers scribbled on it.
“What did you try to order, anyway? It was some fancy beer, wasn’t it?”
Seonghwa looks chagrined. “Wasn’t that fancy.”
“You gotta speak up in these places,” You scooch the barstool closer to him, your knees briefly touching, “I can’t hear you.”
“Why don’t they lower the music?” He grumbles.
“Come on. I said one drink. And I’ve already started taking sips. This is the closest you’re going to get to going on a date with me.”
Seonghwa shifts his body slightly to look at you, his hand curling around his beer glass. His fingers are long, slender, and one simple ring with diamonds around the band rests delicately on one digit.
“This feels more like an interview.”
“Oh, do you not like it? I assume it feels similar to someone asking you out because they want to impress you with money,” When Seonghwa looks sheepish, you continue, “Does that work? Impressing people with money? You make a lot of friends that way? Like true friends, the same level as Hongjoong.”
His eyes meet yours. For a moment, you think he is going to lie. “No. It doesn’t work. They leave once I stop buying everything. Or they meet someone with more money. Hongjoong is the only one who has stuck around.”
“You have everyone else in the friend circle. You don’t talk to any of them?”
“Come on,” He looks away from you, running one finger along the rim of his glass, “Everyone is nice enough but you know I’m not close to them. I’m only there because of Hongjoong.”
He isn’t wrong. You could refute the statement and feed him bullshit. But he hadn’t lied to you just now and you decide not to do the same.
“Why do you think that is?”
Seonghwa gives a small shrug. “It took a long time for Hongjoong and I to become best friends. In my experience, everyone wants something from me. I get it. I don’t blame them for it. So, I decided to preempt people pretending to be my friend by just offering the possibility of money and a fun time right off the bat.”
“But those people aren’t friends.”
“No. But I felt a little less lonely with them around.” Seonghwa replies simply.
The words take you by surprise. It is the most forthcoming you have ever heard him talk. The worst part is how he stated it in such a blunt way; clearly, he isn’t looking for pity, it is just factual to him – people spend time around him if they can get something out of it and he allows it because he can pretend they care about him.
“Where did your family get all that money from anyway? Your dad the inventor of the toaster strudel or something?”
“Very funny,” Seonghwa replies dryly. “I think Wooyoung made the same joke once.”
“He would.” You take another sip of your beer before asking, “Does it bother you to hang out with us then? I mean if you don’t feel like part of the group.”
“No. Hongjoong is the only person who took time to get to know me in my entire life. If his other friends are important to him then I don’t mind spending time with them. It’s the least I can do. I have no interest in making things awkward. I’m not oblivious. I know that I am on the outskirts of the group. But I like everyone in it well enough. I just know my money is a barrier to growing closer to them.”
“But it wasn’t a barrier to Hongjoong. Maybe if you let your guard down a little, you’d find others in the group are the same. I really don’t think the others would care about getting things from you. I mean, if I wanted something from you, wouldn’t I have gone out with you? I won’t be the only person in the group that feels that way.”
Seonghwa looks a little surprised as if he has never considered that before. Casting a glance around the bar, he replies, “Yes but what if everyone wants to hang out in places like this? The pizza place is enough.”
It takes you a second to realize that isn’t him being snobby. He’s actually making a joke. He looks relieved when you laugh and you see his shoulders relax slightly.
“Who did you mean to text that night?” You ask suddenly, the question leaving your lips before you can wonder if it is okay to so clearly talk about the fact Seonghwa has been your secret sexting partner for months.
“Oh, hm,” He frowns, looking down at his drink, “I think I had a date that weekend. I was trying to organize it so I was flirting. But I never found out the right number. So, it fell through. It worked out though, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean? You didn’t get to go on the date.”
Seonghwa leans forward slightly, his shoulders a little hunched, hand curled around the glass. Up this close, his eyes are more like dark pools, and his cheeks are somewhat flushed with colour from the heat of all the people cloistered together in the bar.
“Because we started talking.” He says in a low voice that you can somehow hear over the music.
For some reason, your heart skips and it becomes difficult to maintain eye contact. “Is that what you call it?”
The corners of his mouth quirk up for a moment. “In a way.”
“Did it help?” You realize your voice has dropped to almost a whisper, which in turn causes Seonghwa to move even closer to hear you.
“I was a little less lonely.” He repeats but this time, there is an edge to his voice, a sort of huskiness that makes your heart race just a little bit more than before, his eyes dropping to look at your lips.
Momentarily arrested by his voice and expression, you think about how many times you had gotten off to things he texted you late at night. Of course you always wondered who was at the other end of sending such messages – what did they do all day to have them stay up late at night to text a stranger nothing but sexual things and leave their own personal selves locked away? Neither of you had attempted to learn anything else about the other; it made it more exciting and felt like there were no strings attached at the same time. All it would take would be to block the number and move on if one felt so inclined.
But now you are staring directly at that person in a dive bar early Saturday night. The late nights make sense – Seonghwa, closely guarding himself, having been burned one too many times, only letting Hongjoong gain access to who he truly is, finding comfort in talking to someone who knows nothing about him nor his wealth. He is right that people did treat him differently because he is rich, yourself included. You found him distant and attributed it to the barrier of income between him and the rest of the group. That remains partly true but there was something else at work at the same time: his fear and loneliness forming the rest of the blockage.
Your knees are still pressing together, something that you are now acutely aware of. In fact, you are overly aware of Seonghwa in general – how close he is to you, the curve of his hand around the beer glass, the way his shirt rests flat against his chest, dipping down slightly to show more of his skin than you are used to seeing, all the way down to his expensive leather shoes.
“You know, you never answered the question from earlier.” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“What question?” It takes it a second to click. “Oh. You mean in our texts. It was my turn to tell you something I liked.”
Seonghwa nods. Across the bar, a group of people laugh loudly, and he tilts his head to the side to glance over at them. You study his profile for a moment – the way the dim lights of the bar rest on his skin, the curve of his nose, his lips slightly parted as he studies them.
“Oh, will you look at that? My beer is done. We’re out of time.” You say, pushing the empty glass towards Seonghwa.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “I’m not finished mine. You drank yours so quickly. That anxious to go?”
“You’ve taken two sips since you got yours. Not up to your high quality standard, I assume?” You fire back, nudging his knee a little with yours at the joke.
“Does everyone going on a date with you only get one drink of your time or am I getting unfairly punished?” Seonghwa turns his face back to look at you.
“Depends if I’m going to sleep with them or not.” You retort.
This time, Seonghwa leans so close that for a second, you think he is going to kiss you. But instead, while looking directly in your eyes, he goes, “I could fuck you better than them, you know.”
The words knock you completely off kilter. Seonghwa sounds exactly as he does in all the text messages sent the past few months. But to hear it come from his mouth is entirely different. Your breath catches, that familiar heat starting to tug for your attention. No one has been able to drive you crazy with just words like Seonghwa has. You aren’t sure if you can withstand it in person without cracking.
“Do you want to go on a walk together?” You ask, “Seeing as you usually are in that limo of yours.”
He studies your face for a second, replying, “Sure. Let me just close out the tab.”
You hop off the barstool, purposely placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself (and to watch the expression on his face change just enough to let you know what he is thinking about). “I’m going to pick a really annoying song from the jukebox to play since we’re leaving.”
At this, Seonghwa laughs. With a jolt, you realize this is a true laugh compared to the other ones you have seen which is always more of a low chuckle with a smile that looks like he is in visible pain. It transforms his face, wiping away the reserved nature he usually holds.
“What’s the point of that?” He asks.
You shrug. “To be annoying, duh.”
As Seonghwa goes to pay for the drinks, you pull some money out of your bag, peering at the jukebox to find something irritating. The bar is more crowded now, especially at the pool tables, and the body heat is making you feel warm. You glance over your shoulder, watching Seonghwa toss some money on the bar counter, shouting a thank you to the bartender that more than likely got lost in the din of noise. He looks handsome, you think suddenly, admiring Seonghwa from afar.
Turning your attention back to the jukebox, you flick through some of the options. Seonghwa comes up behind you, and to your surprise, rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms snaking around your waist briefly to pull you back against him. The movement is intimate yet you feel completely at ease with it. In fact, you feel more than at ease – the electricity is a sharp current between the two of you, the desire that typically has been regulated to just texting spilling out into real life.
“Pick something yet?” Seonghwa asks, his lips close to your ear, snaking down your spine.
“Not yet. Any ideas?” You hope your voice sounds neutral; you don’t want him to know how turned on you are.
One hand trails down your back before briefly grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. It happens quickly but your heart rate increases rapidly and it is all you can do not to turn around and kiss him in the middle of the bar. Instead, you push your ass back against his hand.
“Pick that one. It’s annoying.” He murmurs, his breathing changing just enough to somehow turn you on more.
Seonghwa pressed up against your body like this is starting to make you feel like a lion pacing a cage. You pick the song; it begins to blast out of the jukebox as you pull away from Seonghwa, motioning for him to follow.
Wiggling through the crowd, you step out into the night air with Seonghwa right behind you. Even so, the noise from the bar is still too loud and you lead him down the sidewalk, away from the block filled with restaurants and bars that are crowded due to it being Saturday.
The temperature has dropped a bit, a nice break from how hot the bar was getting. Seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head back slightly which catches the light from the streetlamps. He looks different…or perhaps it is you who has changed your perception of him.
“I can feel you staring.” He says suddenly, turning to look at you.
As the two of you round the corner, Seonghwa’s arm slinks around your waist, pressing your back against a building. You gasp slightly in surprise, closer to him than you have been before. Your body responds to him in a way that you didn’t think was possible until tonight, the heat returning between your legs. You tilt your face back and that is when Seonghwa kisses you.
It is like every nerve in your body goes off like a firework. Sure, you have sexted Seonghwa many times about kissing, among other subjects, but not once had you ever looked at Seonghwa in real life and thought about it. Now, you wonder how it will be possible to not spend every moment thinking about it.
All the months of sexting spills out in the kiss which quickly grows from lustful to downright desperate. Pressing your body against his, your hands going around his neck to pull him closer, Seonghwa lets out a soft groan against your lips. His hands drop down to your ass and this time he grips it with both hands, squeezing it so hard that it drives you forward against him, letting you feel how stiff his cock is in his pants.
Seonghwa tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth while still groping your ass. It takes all you can do not to grind against his cock seeing as you are in the middle of the street. Your hands grip his hair, giving it a sharp tug when your lips meet again for another kiss. This time, his tongue pushes against yours and you make a low sound in the back of your throat.
“Get a room.” Someone snaps as they walk by, sounding disgusted.
The stranger’s words bring you back to reality. Seonghwa pulls away, glancing at the person as they round the corner. He is breathing quickly, cheeks tinged pink as he looks back at you.
“So,” He says, his voice a little shaky, “Do you want to come to my place?”
“Sounds good. But,” You add, “I’m not getting in a limo.”
*
One Uber and elevator ride later, you are stepping into Seonghwa’s penthouse apartment in a luxury high rise that you have driven by a thousand times and wondered the sort of people who must live there. Now, you know it includes Seonghwa.
The living room is massive, minimalist with nothing out of place, exceptionally clean, with windows that open out to a balcony that overlooks the city. Even though it is kept in immaculate condition, it still feels as if Seonghwa spends a lot of time here – a chair near the windows is worn, a book left open on it, a jacket tossed hurriedly on the back of the couch as if Seonghwa was running late somewhere and changed his mind about bringing it. On a shelf there are framed photos and polaroids of different locations, his family, and occasionally Hongjoong. A blanket is on the couch with pillows propped up in one corner as if Seonghwa watches television and falls asleep out here often. One lone plant is in the corner, its leaves dipping silently as if bowing for water.
“Can I get you anything? Water?” Seonghwa asks as you walk into the living room, immediately switching into playing the good host as if the two of you hadn’t just been making out in the street, turning on a lamp.
After refusing, you sit down on the couch – which you don’t even wanna think about how much it costs – and gingerly touch the fabric of the blanket. “You sleep out here a lot?”
“Sometimes,” He says, scurrying over, “Sorry about the mess.”
You want to laugh but he is being serious, sweeping the blanket and pillow off the couch and placing it neatly on the chair with the book. You watch as he does so, taking notice of things you hadn’t before in all the time spent around him: the curve of his neck, his hair curled slightly at the back, the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his back.
Seonghwa sits down next to you on the couch and you shift your body to face him. Wanting him feels almost painful in the intensity and it is all you can do just not to lean forward and kiss him.
“You know, the way that you asked me out pissed me off.” You say instead.
Seonghwa’s lips part slightly in surprise for a second. “I assumed.” He finally says. “Are you still upset at me?”
“You made it seem like it would be fun to go out with me because I would care about being taken to some fancy restaurant, not because you cared about me. I know you date a lot, Seonghwa, and I understand it more now than I did before. I know you are just searching for people who care about you as a person and not your money. So, you challenge them directly by throwing money their way and seeing who passes your test. Only Hongjoong has.”
Seonghwa exhales, cheeks puffing out as he runs his fingers through his hair, clearly a nervous habit of his. “I’m going to be honest. I invited you over because I thought you’d maybe want to make out or something, not correctly psychoanalyze me.”
“We can do both.” Your tone is teasing.
Seonghwa tilts his face in your direction, “You’re right. I was rude. When you asked why I wanted to go out with you, I felt thrown. No one had ever asked that before. And you’re right that I do toss money at people just to see who won’t care and would rather spend time with me,” He sighs, “I sound so cliché though. Poor rich kid can’t make friends cuz he has too much money. What a problem.”
“Well, I accept your apology but only because you have months of good sexting that works in your favour,” You lean forward, lightly dragging one finger over the top of his hand.
He turns his hand so that his palm is facing upwards, watching quietly for a moment as you trail your finger across it. “It works in your favour another way too,” His voice has dropped, immediately making you wet, “Because now I know everything you like.”
“Oh, is that so? Like what?”
“Well,” Seonghwa shifts again, this time so close that he could kiss you again easily, his hand gently closing around your fingers in a touch that sends electric sparks skirting across the surface of your skin, “I know that you like to be fingered, for one.”
He isn’t wrong, seeing as there had been many a night where his detailed sexts about getting you off like that led to plenty of nice orgasms. But hearing the words directly from the source makes the longing even more intense.
“Maybe you can finally demonstrate something you spent so much time writing about.” You murmur as Seonghwa’s other hand comes up to cup your cheek.
The sensation is slightly dizzying and you marvel at how Seonghwa has gone from a casual acquaintance to someone who can make you feel a passion this overwhelming.
He brings his lips to yours, tentatively at first, as if the time between the street to arriving here would have changed your mind about wanting him. But when you return the kiss, it bounces back to the passion that was there prior. His hands glide down your body to your sides, pulling you closer against his body. Your hands are flat against his chest, feeling the muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Bringing one hand downward to the tent in his slacks, you rub his cock through them and Seonghwa’s breath catches, a small groan muffled against your lips.
His hands fumble with the buttons on your jeans and you take over, quickly wiggling out of them and kicking them to the floor. His arms wrap around your waist as Seonghwa leans back down for another kiss, pushing you back against the couch. You pull him down with you, your hands slipping underneath his shirt along his back, feeling his toned skin. His tongue is in your mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back a little to grind against his cock. Even with the barriers of fabric, it makes Seonghwa shiver.
You pull his shirt off, hands running down his shoulders and chest, kissing down along his jaw to his neck before biting down while still grinding against him. He sighs in delight before pulling away, looking down at you.
“You going to let me finally finger that sweet cunt of yours?” Seonghwa asks bluntly, sounding exactly like his text messages.
When you nod, there is a glint of pleasure in his eye. He practically tears off your underwear, tossing it to the side as you straighten up a little, your back pressing against the side of the couch. Seonghwa grips your legs, spreading your thighs apart and pushing your legs back to bring your knees to your chest. Normally you would feel shy to be on display like this in front of someone. Yet, surprisingly, you feel entirely comfortable with Seonghwa. In the end, he had been right – the natural chemistry the two of you displayed in the text messages easily shifted over to real life.
Seonghwa drags his finger along your slit which make your pulse quicken. Besides just the lamp on in the corner of the living room, the only other source of light is from the city spilling across the living room. It drapes half dressed Seonghwa like an enchanted cloak made of stars, making you wonder if you would have ended up in the situation with him sooner if the two of you had an actual conversation in all the time spent near one another.
But those thoughts quickly fade when he spreads your pussy lips apart gently, his fingers dipping into your hole just enough to make them wet. Bringing them to his lips, his tongue darts across to taste you.
Seonghwa glances up at you, his lips open a little as if he is going to speak. You look back at him and when you do so, he slips a finger inside your cunt swiftly, taking you by surprise. He smirks at your reaction, wiggling his finger inside you.
“You’re dripping wet,” He comments, “I have a feeling that you’ve been wet for me all night.”
As he begins to slowly pump his finger in your cunt, you reply, “How do you know I’m wet for you? What if I was daydreaming about someone else all night?”
“Please. You’re forgetting that I’ve been making you this wet for months and that I know you’d touch yourself to what I would write late at night.” Seonghwa has that look back in his eye, all conversations of feeling lonely and struggling with making friends washed away in the fact he has his finger buried in your cunt on his couch.
There really is no retort to be had when he is correct like this. He pulls his finger out and brings his hand down across your pussy, lightly slapping it. You jump in surprise and at the same moment he pushes two fingers back into your hole, starting to fuck you with them.
“Be a good whore and hold your legs back,” His voice has dropped an octave, his eyes focused on your pussy as he issues the command.
You do so, and Seonghwa begins to increase the speed at which he fucks you with his long fingers. Half dressed, splayed out in front of him, taking his fingers, you couldn’t think of a stranger turn of events the night could have taken than this. You can hear how wet your pussy is as his fingers press into your hole and you can tell how turned on Seonghwa is by doing this. He bites down on his bottom lip hard as he focuses, driving his fingers deep in your cunt.
“Look at how well your pussy takes my fingers,” He remarks, “Almost as well as you’re going to take my cock.”
Some of his hair falls in front of his face and he shakes his head to move it, clearly irritated that it would dare block the image of you taking his fingers like this. He fucks you hard and fast, the muscles in his arm evident as he wiggles them deep in your cunt.
“Now, you said in your texts that if someone fingered you right, you could squirt,” Seonghwa goes, bringing the conversation back to the front of your mind, your cheeks flushing with colour, “So, are you going to show me like the slut you are or what?”
Your focus is shattered from how well Seonghwa works his fingers, and the sight of him doing this to you at such a speed that the veins pop out against his skin makes your orgasm draw ever closer.
“Wouldn’t want to ruin your nice couch,” You manage to say, your voice unsteady, hands gripping your own legs, nails biting into your skin.
Seonghwa glances up at you, “I can buy another.” He says almost casually and then rams his fingers deep into your cunt.
A strangled gasp leaves your mouth, your legs shaking from being in this position, Seonghwa only picks up the speed, chasing your orgasm down like a dog with a bone. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as his fingers plunge in and out of your wet hole.
“I remember what else you like too,” Seonghwa says hoarsely, “And it was any time I called you a fucking whore.”
His words make your eyes close tightly for a moment as the pleasure grows ever larger, blotting out everything else but your desire to finish against his fingers.
“So, it’s time for you to cum like the fucking whore you are and make a mess on my couch.” His fingers curve upward on the next thrust, “Now.”
As if your body is responding to him directly, your orgasm begins. With a loud moan, your head rolls back, eyes closing tightly as the shivers run down your back and legs as you climax. Seonghwa doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, the noises obscene as he does so. Your hips raise slightly and as you orgasm, your pussy squirts against his fingers, spilling out across the palm of his hand and onto the couch. It is by far the most intense squirting you have done, and you distantly are aware that Seonghwa’s name is leaving your mouth repeatedly.
Panting, your eyes open as your orgasm subsides, looking at Seonghwa who is removing his pants and boxers before settling back on the couch. His cock is rock hard in between his legs, dripping precum, his hand wrapping around and stroking it as he leans forward.
“I’m going to fuck you now, whore, and I’m going to cum in your tight little cunt because I know you get off to that too.” Seonghwa says as his hands move to your legs, keeping your body in the folded position from when he fingered you.
Even though your cunt is in no need of lubrication at this point, Seonghwa looks down and spits on it just to be obscene. Gripping his cock, he slides it in between your folds before leaning forward, bringing his body against yours, pinning your legs against his chest. As he does so, his cock slides into your cunt easily and he brings his hands down to grip the arm rest of the couch on either side of your head.
The angle is unreal, your hands now free to press against his sides, feeling his lithe and toned frame under your fingertips. Seonghwa’s breathing changes as he begins to pump his cock inside your pussy which clenches down immediately.
“See, I knew you would take my cock easily. Just like I knew you would squirt.” His voice is shaky, cheeks bright with colour, “That’s because I know you’re a good slut from all these months of getting you off.”
His pace quickens, clearly pent up from the entire night and getting you off. Smushed against the couch and his body, taking Seonghwa’s cock as deep as it can go, hard and fast, thinking about him emptying his balls in your hole, you realize that he is going to make you cum again.
As if sensing where your thoughts went, Seonghwa goes, “You going to cum again like the fucking slut you are? I thought you said it’s tricky to get you off and yet here I am about to make you cum again.” Yet another detail he has filed away from your sexts; you had mentioned one time that partners struggled to make you finish, issuing a challenge to Seonghwa that “if we ever met up”, he would have to see if he could do better. Well, that had been answered.
Seonghwa, who is relentlessly fucking you into the couch, his breathing laboured, his hair sticking to his forehead from exertion, moves one hand to tilt your face up slightly to look at him.
“Open your mouth.”
A thrill goes through you – yet another secret you told Seognhwa late one night. It was easy telling a stranger all the random things you got off to because what were the odds that it would ever matter? Aren’t you glad that you did now.
You obey and Seonghwa spits in your mouth which makes you moan. Then he crushes his lips against yours, still pumping his hips. You whimper, his tongue against yours, your second orgasm approaching rapidly from the angle and force of his thrusts. The kiss is messy, teeth and tongue, your fingers digging into his back as he ploughs into you. When the kiss breaks, his lips graze yours with each word spoken.
“You always fuck people after one drink or am I just special?”
“Special,” You groan, his skin hard under your fingers.
“You’re special too, my whore. So, why don’t you cum around my cock so I can finish in your cunt?”
He slams his hips down, his cock all the way inside you, and the motion sends you over the edge. Groaning out Seonghwa’s name, your second orgasm begins. Your pussy tightens around his cock and he goes still, eyes closing tightly as he begins to climax along with you. His cum is warm in your pussy, filling it up as you orgasm loudly, clinging to him as much as you can given the position. Seonghwa’s voice is shattered, your name sounding different than it ever as before from his mouth, the two of you inseparable in this moment.
Both are panting, coming down from intense climaxes as Seonghwa gently untangles himself from you. Your legs protest as you stretch them out across the couch, not used to being bent back like that for so long. You can feel his cum in your cunt, your body sticky with sweat, propping yourself up a little. Your t-shirt was on the entire time and now clings to your skin.
“I need a shower,” You tell him, “I assume you have an amazing shower that I will be taking advantage of. And clothes too.”
Seonghwa tries to push his hair out of his face, a smile tugging on his lips. “Yes, I can show you where the bathroom is.”
You hold out your hand, “Fine but you’re not showering with me. No, don’t pout. I actually want to shower not fuck in it.”
Seonghwa tugs on his boxers as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. “Alrig
