Chapter Text
Buying a mystery gift from an unknown crane game shop in Japan online is the worst idea ever.
Of all the valuables the country possesses, official figurines, merch and the likes, the options for gifting individuals with similar tastes to him is tempting. Get a little too trigger happy, and you get tempted by a mystery box instead of a guaranteed prize, loving the thousands of won spent on one unknown package.
Soobin, unfortunately, gets the prize. Maybe Wooyoung thinks it's a funny joke to spend whatever large sum of money to play a simulated crane game to wrap said mystery gift in even more paper and casually hand it to him in a work manito. Wooyoung can't even read Japanese, so any notion that he had any say in what's being received is completely unknown even to him. Whatever it is, it better have been worth it.
It's good that the work day is cut short, since manager Kim wants to hang out with his family for the rest of the day instead of babysitting a bunch of tired, reactive marketing graduates. It's plenty enough headache to have to prepare gifts for his kids, let alone his work kids.
Since he starts travelling home at a snowy noon, Soobin itches to quell his curiosity for just a while. Car rides aren't fun when he anticipates endlessly. He loosens his tie, feeling warm despite the snowfall.
After parking, he trudges towards his front door with the wrapped gift in hand. His family never had generational wealth. His parents just happened to win a free house from a raffle. It also happened to be in the suburbs in the town where Soobin works, so they very kindly gave it to him with no additional costs. In no way is he able to buy property in this economy with the job he works at.
Kicking his shoes off, because he's a full Korean through and through, he passes his handbag to the living room couch, intent on figuring out what was so intriguing about this present.
Resting on the couch, Soobin rips open the thin paper, the satisfying rip sounds filling the air. If unsatisfactory, the sound itself makes up for it.
Revealing the packing paper covered in question marks, Soobin already feels iffy about this present. The size of the box could fit about anything as long as it was shaped like a figurine. It's wider, but it could be anything. In Soobin's mind, he dubbed it to be an anime figurine, something that might fit on the emotional support shelf in his home work setup. Maybe a Gojo, or Sung Jinwoo, or even Doraemon. Anything goes as long as it brings comfort to him.
Tearing the rest of the paper away, Soobin finds text. It's Japanese, something he'd been meaning to study for since it brought many job opportunities, but never had the time or motivation to. But if the words don't translate well for him, the visuals do.
The image of a lean man stares back at him. His eyes are thin and cat-like, gazing up at Soobin like he's next on the chopping board, monolids present and lips thick. His expression wanton, he seems almost betrayed as Soobin throws the box to the table in shock.
That's it. You work at a liberally sound company founded by gay, Korean Steve Jobs and this is what you get.
The text reads "Magic オナホール". He can't exactly understand the text, but the message is sent. A sturdy trooper, Soobin grabs his phone and opens a translating app, upset he didn't have English prowess either.
It's roughly translated, but the purpose of the item has been discovered. Through the plastic window, he can see the product glaring at him. Cream colored, like a real person. He almost feels offended when he sees the actual tool inside and notices it barely fits the packaging. How rude of fate to give him a fleshlight when it doesn't even match with his size, not that he's using it any time soon.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he opens the box and slides the plastic holding it in place out. He parts with the box, still flustered from the sheer sexual appeal. Cracking the plastic open, he pulls it off the right fit. True to its looks, it's spongy, the latex glove squeezing with his every grip. He hasn't seen the entrance yet, too shameful to see straight out.
When he turns it around, he's met with a surprise. It isn't just any hole.
It's puckered, eerily graphic for being a tool made in an overinvested sex toy factory and cheaply made. Now, the price seems even less likely, feeling its low grade latex rub against his fingers.
Rather than killing the cat, curiosity might kill him instead. He sticks a finger in, feeling the artificial tightness of the hole. It doesn't help that he can still see that cat-like gaze, growing harder by the second.
It's revolting to know that Soobin is feeling something from a toy, but it has been a while since he'd masturbated. Loads of external work and promotional documents are unflattering to anyone, especially when associated with his all-male department. He doesn't put a label to his sexuality. Merely, Soobin prefers to keep things undisclosed for as long as he's single.
But weeks of constant ignorance of his libido has raised it, especially tied with the man on the box. He always had a love for pretty boys, a thing he knows tons of guys joke about online when he eventually doomscrolls through reels like a maniac. Sometimes he wonders if any of them are actually just joking, because the guy on that box is doing more than he's expecting.
He flips the box pretty boy-down because he doesn't want to see that man for long, but he sees a bolded few of words with numbers and a header that says "instructions". Luckily for him, that is in his slim vocabulary of English words.
He chuckles at the idea of a manual for a sex toy, scanning the text with his phone regardless.
Instructions
1. Release the toy from its cage.
2. Use toy as intended. Coming inside is advised.
3. Press the button at the bottom when finished.
4. Wait a few seconds. Occupy self by preparing.
5. Enjoy till you're satisfied.
A few giggles and badly translated Korean later, Soobin feels confident enough to actually try it. Fuck it, we ball.
The tightness of it urges him to stretch it out with his fingers, but he easily discards the idea. It's just a toy. It can't get hurt or anything.
He begins to unbuckle his belt, swiftly pulling down his dress pants so his boxers come into view. The semi he packs definitely isn't slight, eyeing the onahole as he exposes himself to the chilly air. The house has a very neat temp system that he sets to 20°C every winter season, so in theory, it shouldn't be cold enough to shudder. He does anyway, holding himself by the base.
It has been a while, so the feeling of his rough hand circling around his shaft is delicious. Soobin bites back a moan, spitting once onto himself before slowly stroking. It doesn't take too long to go from half to fully hard, imagining just about anyone else holding onto him and tugging along with his breaths.
It goes to box guy, of course, eyes still visible as Soobin closes his own. With no hands in frame, he has to envision the thin digits himself, cranking him like a wrench. The fingers barely reach, noting their insane size difference.
Soobin breathes between his teeth, a hand travelling to where he left the onahole. With no further thought, he inserts himself deep into the orifice. He reaches the end of it with ease, gasping at the grip around him.
"Fuck.." Soobin blurts out, stroking himself with the toy blissfully. He doesn't remember the last time he had affairs in the backdoor department. It's been that long. Maybe he should delve into this more, constant waves of pleasure striking him and convincing him even more.
But where would he start? His co-workers are out of the question, not that they are unpleasant to look at. Not to mention most of them are straight, the ones that aren't are happily in relationships. Bisexuality does that to hot people. Once they're out, they're also out of the market. He doesn't favor the gay sections of Seoul, too vanilla and unadventurous to explore. He's an introvert, cut him some slack.
Rather than thinking of his lax and unknowing department, his mind, which can conjure up anything as long as he's in the mood, can do all the work. Collaborative practice with his hand can complete the project. It's not the cherry on top, but the cup that holds it.
He's thinking of the box, how his lips slightly tilt upwards. The plumpness of them can wrap around him, wet and soft, sucking on his head slightly. His eyes would be wide open, monolids in full display. They would be light brown, similar to his hair, sparkling in lustful splendor. He would bob his head until his neck hurt, maintaining eye contact while choking at every other push.
Soobin fantasizes that the man's feminine hands rub his own nipples, gargling out moans and struggling to keep himself up. His stark naked figure is tiny at the waist, but his curled up legs show his height. Tall, just not as tall as Soobin.
Prematurely, Soobin blows his load inside the pucker, yelling out his ecstasy and growing limp the less his spurts come out.
Still sensitive to it, Soobin holds it still for a few, only releasing from it after he took the time to breathe. He mindlessly presses the button at the bottom, assuming it's a self-cleaning function. He still has the brain to not place it by the face, standing it on its bottom on the table. The thick substance is visible from where he sits breathlessly, seeping into the toy until it seemingly disappears.
Before the post-nut clarity gets to him, a large poof of smoke emerges around the toy. Soobin, not anticipating it, jumps in his seat.
The smoke clears partially, Soobin caught in the hazy cloud. He coughs and fans around until he sees a figure. The more time passes, the more he sees.
Perched on his expensive coffee table, a man sits with his legs crossed. His hair is black and his eyes are brown. He's colored the same as the the hole he just fucked, skin unnaturally perfect. The most surprising characteristic is his face, an exact replica of the image on the box. His lips resemble the color of cherry blossoms and monolids stand strong. Everything about this being is one of ultimate beauty.
Oh, and he's naked. Go figure.
When no traces of smoke remain, he speaks up, a smile to his face.
"Hey, handsome."
Soobin blinks irregularly, staring intently at the innocent look in disbelief. His eyes are so wide open he'd be afraid of them popping out if it weren't for the fact that he wants to see the man for the rest of his monotonous, mundane life.
"What are you?" Soobin thinks out loud, still mystified at the sight.
He smiles wider, eye whiskers now in view.
"I'm what the box says I am."
He should've focused on those English courses in college better, dammit.
"I'm sorry, but I don't speak—"
"My apologies. Is this better?" The man asks in Korean, bringing his signature gaze to Soobin's face. His hairs stand on end, feeling small in his own home.
Soobin nods, not trusting his own voice to work.
"Great! You're supposed to read the box info before using me, you know?" He sounds sultry, voice slightly raspy and very boyish. It sounds like the perfect voice to cuss people out.
He hates that it stirs up the heat pooling in his stomach. He shuffles to fix his pants back to place.
Soobin grabs the box sheepishly, turning it around and meeting the image version of his beauty yet again. The Japanese text falls flat on Soobin's comprehension, finding the graphic design of the product piss poor. There's a spiky bubble that has bigger characters written on it.
Version 2, Model K#0913
ヨンジュン
The scanned version of his Japanese name emerges through his phone screen.
Yeonjun.
"Yeonjun."
"Yes, master?"
Soobin tapes his lips shut, pensively recollecting the brain parts that fell onto the floor. He shuts himself up so he won't blurt out any other random shit, already flustered by the way Yeonjun eyes him like he's a steak.
When Soobin doesn't make a request, Yeonjun cradles his face with a palm, arm leaning on his leg. "What shall I address you as? Sensei? Hyung? It's your choice."
It's fucked, but Soobin always wished to have a Japanese girlfriend when he was younger. The honorifics of Korean culture aren't to his favor, especially the "oppa"s and "hyung"s. He'd always admired Japan's cutesy but distinct honorific system, so they were all he could think about at this very moment.
"My name is Soobin. Assume you're Japanese and older than me."
Don't even get him started on his love for older partners.
Yeonjun hums, adoringly eyeing him. "You're unbelievably handsome, Soobin-kun."
Soobin couldn't get any more red, even if he was forced to. The blood rushes all the way to his head, a little more push would turn him into an erupting volcano.
Sensing that Soobin is still curious, Yeonjun pipes up. "I'll give you three questions. Ask me anything."
Soobin is very much curious. He'll always be curious for the rest of his life, which feels like a few hours if Yeonjun keeps at it. "So, uh, where did that...?" He mentions vaguely.
"Your semen? I gobbled it up, Soobin-kun. You're as tasty as you look." Yeonjun licks his lips.
If his thinking head won't blow up, his other head might.
"How did you end up like this?" Soobin asks, not understanding his own question. It's complex enough to fuck a makeshift hole. Having that hole be able to walk around now weirds him out.
"I was made to please my future user. I'm a machine that powers from tasty come. It's pretty crammed in that plastic, so I'll forever be grateful to you for freeing me."
Soobin is just going to ignore the first part of his answer and stick to the more wholesome part. Maybe then his dick will stop waving at him to fuck Yeonjun into next Tuesday.
He rubs his eyebrows abashedly, leaning back into the couch. "Fuck, is this a dream?"
Yeonjun stands abruptly, moving closer to Soobin and placing himself on his lap, smirking. Soobin instinctively cups his waist, his skin undoubtedly soft and unlike cheap latex. That's where all that money went, to this godly body.
He leans into Soobin's personal space, grinding their bodies together as his lips reach his ear.
"It can be. What do you need?"
Fuck.
"Wait." Soobin halts him, quitting the soft rolls of his hips. Yeonjun huffs out a breath, annoyed at his very first command. "Could we maybe take things slow? I know I already, er... fucked into you, but you're more human-like now, so I want to keep things safe between us."
Soobin moves to sit up and push Yeonjun away, but he shoves him back down, sending dust particles into the air.
Yeonjun, now livid and in need, seethes. "Look here, Soobin, I'm your Hyung, so why don't you just lay back down and let me fuck you?"
Yes, Soobin wants to do exactly that, but his parents raised him too right to allow himself to fuck an anthropomorphic fleshlight without trying to court the damn thing first. Even with this unrealistic beauty standard right in front of him, the idea of taking advantage of his very purpose feels immoral, regardless of how it actually is.
"No, I want us to have a decent conversation before we get into it so fast. It just feels right." The beauty in front of him blinds him to no limit, a constant shimmer to his cheekbones bringing out the color in his eyes. His dick doesn't take advantage of the situation so easily though. He has principles.
Yeonjun concedes eventually, climbing off his warm lap to plop himself on the cushion next to Soobin. He crosses his arms together elegantly, eyes still pasted on the sharpness of his jaw.
"What, you wanna take me out to dinner first too? You have some fucking nerve being this hot when you're just a fucking nerd." Yeonjun hisses out, puffing his cheeks. It's a wonder whether he wants to be perceived as cute or hot. And Soobin was damn right about that cussing thing.
"I would prefer that." Soobin admits, not a jest in sight.
Yeonjun claws the air. "I am literally bare for you. I'm an object you used to come. Just stick it in me while we talk and I'll be a happy camper!"
The decibels on this toy is making him horny, he won't lie, but the initial talk must be collected and respectful.
"We should talk more, Yeonjun-ah."
"Ey, I'm your Hyung. Speak to me with formal Korean, brat." Yeonjun warns.
Soobin shrugs. "Yaja time?"
Yeonjun groans. "Senpai, all you have to do to change me is ask. I'll adapt to the request and act accordingly, since I've got your DNA in here." He rubs his pale stomach, disregarding the grimace in Soobin's face when he stares down.
"I'm so sorry. You must be so cold, I'll up the temp for you." Soobin runs away, tapping on the button until it reaches 24°C, immediately feeling the warmth fill the room. He removes his tie and throws its balled up version into a hamper at the corner of the room, barely getting it in. He fist pumps.
He grabs a sweater, an ugly Christmas-themed one given to him by Seungkwan from the PR department, knit with his own excellent hands, sitting on the ottoman. He had made the funny mistake of writing "Soobin's" instead of just his name, adding to the charm of it. English letters are hard, he can't fault Seungkwan for that.
"Wear this." Soobin orders, Yeonjun grumbling about it but complying. It's a nice fit around Soobin's frame, but Yeonjun's makes it look like a giant's outfit. His fingers barely poke out of the sleeves. The hem of the shirt covers his dignity, fuzzy and warm around his lithe body.
"Thanks." Yeonjun mumbles, tugging at the excessive fabric around his shoulders. "I guess."
Soobin wants to ball him up and eat him. He wants to curl up behind him and cuddle Yeonjun until he complains when he leaves. He wants to feed Yeonjun chocolate covered strawberries and read comics together.
Is that so much to ask?
"Now, we should know more about each other first if you want something from me." Soobin sits himself back down next to Yeonjun, gazing at the intricacies of his face. Moles present under his eyes, they decorate him like glitter. "Let's consider it a compromise."
Yeonjun rests his face on his palm, only now he's scoffing at him. "Sure, I'll play your game. Are we playing introductions at the playground? Hi, I'm Yeonjunnie." He holds his hand up to allow Soobin to shake it.
He plays along, holding onto Yeonjun's hand with a firm grip. "Hi Yeonjun, I'm Choi Soobinnie." He flashes a dimpled smile.
"I want to sit on your face."
Soobin flinches, shocked and starstruck from his boldness. The heat picks up under his shirt, unbuttoning a few of the first buttons. He catches Yeonjun looking at his collarbones and chest.
"I'm flattered, really." Soobin answers.
Yeonjun undresses him with his eyes, his agitation long gone. "Does flattery pull your pants down?"
He doesn't know why he thought trying to have a decent conversation with a pleasure object could even happen. "No, but getting to know my date does." Soobin answers, though this barely is considered as a date.
It returns as soon as it leaves, Soobin seriously getting on a sex toy's nerves, if they even have any. "Ugh, fine. Senpai, how would you like me to act when I'm here? You want a lovey dovey side maybe? I can be the perfect sweetheart just for you."
Soobin considers it, like really, but he shakes his head. "I like the way you are now." His guilty pleasure is to be led, so Yeonjun's controlling attitude does a lot for him.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, groaning in annoyance. "Cool, cool. So you like being insulted, huh? Freak."
"I like compliments as much as the next guy," Soobin responds quickly, another being in him placing a hand on Yeonjun's bare knee. "But I'm really into strong-willed, independent leaders." He admits, a warmth filling his cheeks.
Yeonjun stares at him, unsurprised. "Yet you rejected my advances. What's the deal with that? Am I not hot enough for you?"
"Yeonjun, you're so hot you could cook popcorn."
"Wow, thanks, because the machine you use to cook snacks you bring to movie theatres is so sexy." Yeonjun complains, stretching his arms upwards and revealing a sliver of his stomach. Sexy. "Even songs called popcorn aren't sexy. Crazy Frog, Gershon Kingsley, Doh Kyung Soo—"
"Hey, don't disrespect Crazy Frog like that." Soobin interjects quietly, eyes remaining on the smooth legs his hand ends up caressing. It travels up his knee, feeling the skin wobble in his touch. He bashfully grips the thigh, an unmistakable bone and flesh substitute under the soft skin.
Yeonjun notices the rise in temperature, holding his wrist in place. "Don't tell me you like Crazy Frog, you maniac."
"I mean, Bebe Rexha sampled one of their songs..."
"Oh god, you like blondes? Bring me back to my box, I'm done here." Yeonjun hypothetically grabs all of his belongings and shoves them into his hypothetical backpack, walking off deeper into the house. He pops his head back out to mention. "And Crazy Frog didn't even make Blue (Da Ba Dee)! That was Eiffel 65!"
The sound of footsteps hitting the stairs thud loudly, giving away the destination of his guest. Before Soobin gets to decide whether to go to his bedroom or just wait, Yeonjun thuds back down with a shirt and underwear in hand.
"I found these in your hamper upstairs. Can I use them?" Yeonjun holds them up like they are worth something, fingers barely poking through the different fabrics.
"Those are used clothes." Soobin protests.
"Perfect."
Yeonjun sits back down, immediately holding the underwear to his face, sniffing non-discreetly. "This'll keep me preoccupied. What else shall we waste time talking about?"
Soobin ponders it for a second, shooting as soon as he finds something. "Do you eat? Or do you need to eat?"
"I do need to eat. My body and energy operate on the sweet, sweet taste and feeling of seed." Yeonjun answers, voice muffled by the fabric. "But I do eat human food if I want to. My tastebuds are altered to taste things differently from humans, so what you love might be revolting to me."
At this point, Soobin is the cat. "Is my, uh, stuff bad tasting?"
"Senpai, I don't have any comparisons to base this off of, but you taste amazing."
Soobin blushes, shrugging off the loud timbre of Yeonjun's smooth voice. He continues. "I don't secrete any bodily waste other than fake sperm, and I can't gain or lose any weight."
"You're living the life."
"I should be by now, if it weren't for you taking that from me." Yeonjun scoffs. "I'm supposed to be fucked hard into the wall or the floor, in rapid succession for the rest of my life, but here we are, talking. All I can say is my life purpose is different from yours."
Soobin can feel that the space between them is turning sour, so he sighs, conceding. You could blame his weak heart as well, but he'll die on the hill of Yeonjun's desperation.
"Fine. You wanna do something?"
Yeonjun tosses the articles of clothing, his face flipping instantly. The scowl turns into a big smile. "Really? So can I like, suck your dick or something?"
He doesn't appreciate the lack of sugarcoating, but at least he's blunt. It's helping a lot with arousing him.
"I'll allow it." Soobin states, and as soon as he says so, Yeonjun falls to his knees with clamped hands on his lap. "Only after," He pulls Yeonjun back up by the sweater, leaving their faces incredibly close. "you take my breath away."
"My dick isn't even supposed to get hard but your face does so much for me." Yeonjun admits, sweater paws resting on Soobin's shoulders so he doesn't topple over.
He blows out a chuckle, throwing a hand to his nape. "Likewise."
Yeonjun's lips, though thick, have so much give. The plushness of his cherry blossom lips warm him up, the kiss a similar experience. His knees plant at Soobin's thighs' sides, his body resting on his lap. His own breaths turn uneven when Yeonjun begins to deepen.
"I do have a catch." Soobin murmurs coherently against him, keeping his eyes mostly closed for his sanity. "Let's keep talking. If you can't answer, I'm stopping."
Yeonjun pouts adorably, clawing at the front of Soobin's shirt. "You're so mean, senpai."
Fuck, is this pretty, but Soobin wants less power. It's enough that he can tell Yeonjun to do whatever he wants. He craves the feeling of inferiority.
"You can act like my Hyung again."
Immediately, Yeonjun holds him by the neck, leering down at him. "You take that back. I'm your Hyung."
Already feeling the effects of delirium, Soobin nods weakly. "Only by a year." He states offhandedly.
"A year is plenty, Soobin-ah." Yeonjun hisses out, cutting off whatever he was thinking about with a harsh kiss. His teeth pinches Soobin's bottom lip, threatening to bite it off. "But I'll entertain your idea. You won't be able to resist me anyways."
He might not, he can't stress this enough. With soft hands melting into his throat, fingers pressing the sensitive muscles with no care for how Soobin feels, he knows how this seems to Yeonjun.
Yeonjun licks his bruised lip. He does so plenty of times, tending to his injury with false saliva. His tongue is gentle and supple, yet he can feel the fervor in his licks. He swaps between pecks and licks, irregular and rapid as if he craved to shut him up.
"Hyung, calm down." Soobin states, and his entire being doesn't want him to do so, but he says so anyways.
He groans annoyedly, grinding himself down onto Soobin. "But I need you, Binnie. You should take responsibility, since you already used me." Yeonjun caresses his neck, leading up to his face to hold his head up.
He's starting to regret not reading instructions clearly. Next time, if any strange Japanese products were to be gifted to him, sexy femboy on the box or not, every symbol and logo would be translated appropriately.
Yeonjun begins to pair their lips together again, a tender smooch to mend his errors, if any ever existed. "I know you want me. I can tell through these pants."
Yeah, despite his recent release, his hard-on is pretty evident between them. When a really pretty humanoid sex toy wants you so bad they start begging for your dick, you'd be horny too, refractory period be damned.
The kiss turns eventually. Soobin's hands trail down to Yeonjun's hips, the cloth thick between them. Yeonjun goes to stick his tongue inside his mouth, exploring every section of Soobin's in excitement. Soobin runs his hand up the wool sweater, feeling his insane proportions. His wide hips and slim waist could kill a man. He's not milf levels of insane, but it's the craziest Soobin has ever had the pleasure of touching.
"Mmh... That's right, feel me all over. I don't bruise permanently. Wanna test it out?" Yeonjun somehow speaks with his tongue deep in Soobin's throat, confirming that his voice doesn't require those pretty lips.
"Hnngh..."
"What's wrong, Soobinnie? I thought we had to talk, so what's with the silent treatment?"
Sometimes, and genuinely 100% no bullshit type of sometimes, he wishes he was stronger. Not in physique, but in willpower, that maybe he'd be great as an edgy but rough lover. He cringes at the idea of it every day, but just this once, it just might not be a bad idea.
Soobin grips him by the hair, removing Yeonjun's invasive tongue and leaving a line of saliva between them. His tongue still poking out, Yeonjun pants fictitiously. Eyes screaming in need, he rushes to come back, but Soobin keeps him still.
"I want to do everything you want, Hyung. Every little detail, as long as you say it, I'll do it all. It just feels... off still, that I'm aroused by a talking fleshlight." Soobin admits, and it's not an easy pill to swallow. It's downright unfair that of all the things anthropomorphized, he's having affairs with the one thing he's meant to release into.
It feels like a moment of obligation rather than want, the arousal stirring in his mind anyways.
"Soobin, you fucked me the second you unwrapped the package. Don't act like it's strange now that I look like a human." Yeonjun bluntly states. The overexaggeration is crazy.
It's all backwards. He thinks it's weird to do it with something with a stark resemblance to humans, but it's totally fine with a pocket pussy. It sounds crazy, and that's just what hearing about all his co-workers' sex lives constantly does to people, so nothing could be crazier.
"Yes, I might've," the reality keeps updating in his mind, with their dicks pressing against each other. It can't get any more mind-boggling. "shit, I really did that, didn't I?"
Yeonjun shrugs. "I don't blame you. You did the exact instructions to activate me, so you must've been reading something. Congrats." He celebrates monotonously, unbuttoning the rest of his buttons. "I'm willing to bet you used the box art to fantasize about me."
A wave of humiliation crashes upon him, sweeping him away along with his thoughts. It's offensive to be read so easily when he prides off of being unreadable at work. That's Yeonjun's neverending charm for you, vengeful in nature. The worst part is he knows there's no malicious intent. It's all for the love of the game.
Soobin tries to shrug it off, his hand fitting under his own sweater on Yeonjun, artificial skin pliant under his hold. "And if I did?"
"You don't need to tell me. I'm sentient as that hole, Soobie." Being sentient doesn't mean Yeonjun is a sudden mind reader. If he could read Soobin's mind from the beginning, he'd be disgusted instead of flattered.
He resumes their kissing session, amping it up as soon as their lips touch. In Yeonjun's warmth, where his hands could go anywhere, they rest on Soobin's face, pulling him in to further intensify it. A lot more poignant and fragile as one might put it, Soobin can't help but to be swooned.
Soobin runs his calloused hands up to Yeonjun's chest and surprisingly, his nipples are the least realistic thing about him. He already caught multiple glances at the hardened nipples when Yeonjun was bare. They must be naturally hard, something that he would hate to live with. Here, in the comforting coziness where he'd argue is hotter than cold, he feels too hot. The snow is positively active through the windows, but heat is all he feels.
"You're warm, Soobinnie. Does wittle Soobie Woobie need an ice pack?" Yeonjun taunts, mouth still occupied of the tongue and lips variety. The vibration of his voice box is very human against his mouth, Soobin's eyes completely shut the entire time.
Yeonjun parts them, leaving Soobin a breathy mess. His labored breaths pair well with Yeonjun's excited eyes, the latter shuffling in his seat needily.
"It helps that you're so easy on the eyes." His eyes flit downwards, the clear gaze down to his unbuttoned shirt. "Everywhere."
Yeah, barely. Soobin doesn't work out for shit. All he does in his spare time is watch anime and Kara music videos or sleep the days away. If anything, his lack of care for his physique is the reason people don't actively pursue him. Minhyuk from the finance department has a striking resemblance to him, the only differences being that bright gold band around his ring finger and his amazing body for a father. His work ethic is so admirable, Soobin ends up looking like a desperate hoobae when he asks for advice.
Who would ask advice from their doppelgangers anyways? It'll just activate his imposter syndrome all over again.
He should really stop this habit of letting his mind take the wheel. All that thinking didn't prepare him for what Yeonjun had in store for him.
Yeonjun strokes his stomach delicately, prodding at the tight skin. Maybe he doesn't have the best body, but he isn't a total slob. His high metabolism and low appetite forces him to have something similar to abs, though he blames it all on his genes. Having Yeonjun marvel at him as if he's got something really makes him feel like he has washboard abs.
"I much prefer this over those muscle freaks. They love their biceps more than their girlfriends, I'm sure." Damn, Minhyuk and the rest of the buff guys in the world are catching strays. He's sure Minhyuk loves his wife just fine.
Soobin can't help but to agree.
"I don't mind a little muscle, though." He adds, keeping his options open. It's not like that would fully convince Soobin to start lifting weights or anything. Changing for the pleasure of others has never been on his bucket list. "I gotta be manhandled by something."
Some things can be arranged. When someone makes a compelling argument, it's hard for Soobin to disagree.
His infatuation is interrupted by the thud of Yeonjun's knees to the floor. He messes with the front of Soobin's pants, loosening the grip they have around his waist. He doesn't waste a second dawdling around, grabbing his bulge as soon as he sees it.
Soobin forgot how easily he shuts down in times of peril, or immense pleasure. It'll be hard to keep up with a conversation.
"You're massive." Yeonjun makes a face. Something in Soobin tells him Yeonjun wants to slight him somehow, maybe related to his race, but who was Yeonjun to speak? He's practically fictional, made in Japan and based on Koreans, and his size doesn't match up to Soobin's.
Can't Yeonjun just marvel at him without Soobin completely overthinking the entire exchange? It doesn't have to be so hard.
Soobin gulps. "I guess..." He's not used to compliments about his package. Korean women mainly prefer a pecker that doesn't kill them on first insertion. A sample size of 4, but that's enough to understand. It's his one flex that also hinders him. "Is that okay?"
Yeonjun raises a brow at him, still positively interested as he pulls the boxers down. "I'm made of rubber. I think I can manage."
"Rubber? I thought it was latex—"
"Shut up, your dick is trying to talk to me." Yeonjun holds his ear up to Soobin's shaft, holding it by the base. "Oh, you want kisses, don't you? You want me to eat you, huh, penis-kun? You want that?"
If Yeonjun is legitimately able to have a conversation with his dick, it's the end for him.
"Your dick is so honest, Soobinnie. Why don't you try and follow in its footsteps?" Yeonjun coos, rubbing his cheek onto him affectionately. He runs it from his cheek to his lips, poking his tongue out at the slit once.
"What are you—"
"Shh, relax, Soogos Binted. You never told me to stop, so I haven't. Whether you tell me aloud or just think it, I'll quit it immediately. But I've been horny the entire time, so I think I know my answer." Yeonjun purrs, licking the entire underside of his hardness. His pretty tongue slides smoothly throughout, with his pretty eyes gazing up at him and his pretty hand around him.
Soobin shudders, due to that terrible nickname.
"Were you made in 2018?" Soobin asks, though he doesn't want to think of the implications.
"Of course not. It takes at least 10 years to perfect my code, another 10 to nurture life into me, and about 3 to fix any bugs. All of us are at least 23." Hearing Yeonjun know so well about his manufacturing process is starting to get a little sexy, harrowingly so. Soobin knows he loves the folks in his tech department (Wonwoo, Felix, Zhang Hao, they're all absolute cuties) but not to this extent.
Then again, those are pretty basic things. A human could describe puberty pretty easily as long as they suffered through it.
Meow.
"So are you like AI?"
Yeonjun grips him hard, making him wince. "Ew, no, I'm not that artificial intelligence slop. I'm magic, and there's no further explanation to that."
Magic on the box, but technology in reality. Yeonjun might be dusted in pixie dust, but it doesn't make him magic. They did a good effort trying to market their products as magic in a country full of whimsy, but they should leave that to fiction. If it works so well, he wonders how Yeonjun ended up in a dingy crane game site as a mystery box.
"You must've been made with love." Soobin snarks sneakily, distracting himself from Yeonjun's clear attempts at derailing his train of thought. "And with one hand."
"Ha ha, that's so funny, Binnie." Yeonjun takes no time to rest, lapping at him like he's a melting popsicle. He may as well be, since his searing skin can't mean he's healthily warm. "What, because I'm a living cock sleeve?"
"Yeonjun, you're so hot you could cook popcorn."
Will he relive that? No. Doh Kyungsoo-nim gets enough flack as it is, being married to that guy and all. He wouldn't want round two of that. It's time to fight fire with fire.
"I fantasized about those lips wrapping around me tightly. You might be made for it, but you gag every time I force it into your throat." Soobin claims, pinching all of Yeonjun's face with his fingers to redirect his eyes, onto the deep blush of his own. "What I'm saying is, from the moment I saw your image, I wanted you."
"Aww, that's adorable, Soobin-ah. Keep up with the stories and I might let you suck mine."
Soobin doesn't know what he's thinking. Yeonjun is an elite at this, a pro gamer possibly. Soobin has had intimate moments with partners for only 6 total hours. Yeonjun was quite literally made for this. Does it really take that much to fluster him?
"Now let go of me. What am I, your dog?" The muzzle-like hold prevents Yeonjun from doing anything, a trap Soobin doesn't mind seeing. When he doesn't remove it in a second, Yeonjun grabs a hold of it and licks along the veiny fingers.
Perturbed, Soobin pulls himself away. Then, after his hindrances leave him, Yeonjun goes full on and shoves his face down until he reaches the base. Soobin, unexpecting but not uninviting, gasps abruptly, straightening and gripping onto his realistically unreal locks.
"Warn me next time, jeez." Soobin pants his way through the delivery, an unexpected drop of sweat running past his face. The snow continues to fall, though he feels like he lives in a volcano. The snow will come down regardless of his abode.
"You're thinking about next time without even finishing yet. Aren't you naughty." Yeonjun's voice is a little muffled, possibly obscured by him concealing the voice box. It can't be that deep in his throat, then. "I don't have a gag reflex, but you can tell me to if you wish."
Soobin considers it, actually. It's a shame it doesn't come with his functions, but he brushes the thought off. "Maybe later."
"Ooh, later. Just make sure you have the stamina, chop Sooey."
A Gen Z brainrot guy shouldn't be this sexy. He shouldn't be buried in his pubic hair with Soobin's entire shaft inside his mouth like it's another Saturday afternoon. Made for it, blah blah. The vibrations still exist, giving Soobin a pleasant surprise down under, so even when his jokes fall flat, his throat game reigns supreme.
His lips are so tight around him, still at the hilt as he savors the flavor. Gross. It's not that Soobin is unsanitary or filthy, far from it. There is just no appeal in putting a large anything in people's mouths, let alone an organ, unless he's been hanging out with the wrong crowd.
No, Yeonjun is just special.
"Talk to me, Soobin. I want to hear more than your moans."
He's trying so hard to find something to say, mind in a disarray unfamiliar to him. He's typically a chatterbox, capable of annoying the most calm individuals. He once got on Wonwoo's nerves. The introvert he is, a topic he likes is a topic he blabbers on and on about. He's self-aware, but he doesn't care to change.
"Hyung..." It's in his nature to shut down, he supposes. He keeps his hold on Yeonjun's hair soft, grooming all of the strays in place. "Please.."
"I love how you beg, baby. You're so polite." Yeonjun hums, sending electricity through Soobin's body. That vibration feature is so obviously purposeful, he almost thanks whoever made it. "Whatever you need."
"Could you.. try and speak in English.. for me..?"
Yeonjun seems like the type to visit America in his youth, even when his youth seems to be less experiential and more mechanical. He'd wear sports memorabilia while never watching a game, perusing the streets in baggy but stylish clothing in summer, himself and the breeze for accompaniment. Maybe an iced Americano and a handbag, with passersby double taking on his presence.
That's not the point. He would just fit the American dream so well.
Yeonjun pulls back so only the tip of the head lies on his tongue. "If it's what you desire, darling."
Fuck. Darling?
He proceeds to bring his head back down, only reaching halfway before returning to the top. He keeps at this pace, stroking the rest of the area he doesn't envelop with his mouth.
"You like that, don't you? This cock loves my mouth so much, it wants to live here. It wants me to warm it up until my mouth molds around it." His words are staggered only due to the rapid movements, shaky and disorderly.
Soobin throbs at his ability, not understanding a single word but panting heavily despite it.
"You can have it. I'm all yours."
The way he conveys the words makes him think they're complete filth. Anything meaningful would be misconstrued anyways, so the accent itself leads the way.
"Hyung?" Soobin mutters, hoping he doesn't stutter his still-processing words. "Uugh, Yeonjun hyung, I love it. More, please, more..."
"You're insatiable, Soobinnie. You're so desperate for me, you're begging while I'm giving it to you. Do you have no shame?" Whether he's talking about the language or the fellatio, he's getting more of both, so there are no complaints. He can put the pieces together.
Of course, the disappointed tone can't be mistaken. It reminds him of when he got told off for not getting at least a B on his math tests, or for making fun of another kid. Being a kid, it was so easy to be reprimanded. It's fucked that he's getting off to that same tone, made synthetically by a voice box capable of speaking past his dick. Deranged.
"In Korean now." He's not satisfied with tone. He wants to understand everything.
Yeonjun maintains eye contact, sinking his head down and taking most of Soobin. "You're shameless, Soobin-ah. You have no pride as a man, and that's so fucking hot."
Soobin watches as Yeonjun goes back and forth, eyes filled with tears due to constant activity. He tucks some of Yeonjun's hair behind his ear, smiling slightly.
"Hyung, I can't hold on for much longer." He barely lets out, hanging his head back as he focuses on the feeling of his shaft in the deep cavern of Yeonjun's pleasant throat.
Yeonjun smirks around him, speeding up his bobbing. "You're so close, aren't you? You need my mouth to please yourself. Your hand won't work for you anymore, so just use me. I'm yours."
"Mine, Hyung is mine?" Soobin timidly repeats, biting his lip too hard and drawing blood. It's so unfamiliar to him to revert to this, a prattling mess.
"Yes, you own me. I'll do everything you want. I'll be the perfect partner for you, try anything for you, please you in every way. You'll never catch a break with me." Yeonjun huskily delivers, removing himself from Soobin to stroke him fast. "Come in my mouth, fuck, you want that, don't you?"
Soobin braces himself, moaning out relatively quietly as he releases painfully. Yeonjun wraps his lips around the head last-minute, continually stroking to grab as much of the thick liquid as possible. As the spurts come to an end, Yeonjun pulls himself off.
He displays the pool of DNA to Soobin, who sneaks a peek just barely in worry. His plump lips have turned thicker, tears fallen to the sides of his half-lidded gaze, an unmistaken translucent film all throughout his mouth.
Yeonjun shuts his mouth, gulping down the rest of his sanity along with that release.
"Fuck yeah, Soobin. You fucking rock."
-
"So what's your deal?" Soobin inquires, adjusting the blankets atop the both of them, having changed the temp back to 21°C.
"Great, now that I've had my fill, are you gonna talk my ear off?" Yeonjun grimaces, huddling up in the thick comforters until only his head prevails.
After their living room activities, Soobin rested a bit before trying to retreat to the bathroom, only for Yeonjun to offer to come along. He thinly resisted the offer, coming closer to conceding but knowing it came with a price. Instead of having a buddy to scrub his back for him, he sufficed with a loofa on a stick.
He allowed Yeonjun to shower as well, after him of course. ("You are waterproof, right?") The punch to his shoulder was worth the joke.
Soobin proposed to watch a movie. He sacrificed by playing something in English, Back To The Future, the least sexy movie he knows. The main guy gets kissed by his mother. Gross. It doesn't help that it's not realistic at all in terms of science. A little nitpicky, sure, but if animations like Dr. Stone can do it, live action movies could try doing the same.
Now wearing one of Soobin's black shirts and boxers, to his request, Yeonjun drowns in it. None of his frame sticks out of the fabric, to his safety. If Yeonjun looks any hotter than he does wearing his boxers, he might beg again.
Oh yeah, speaking of.
"Was everything you said then real?" Soobin asks, not bothering to pause the movie. It's quite the snooze fest at the beginning anyways.
Yeonjun tilts his head at Soobin, a slanted smile present. "Oh, Soobin, have you ever heard of dirty talk?" He remarks, grabbing a handful of popcorn and filling his mouth with it. Soobin seems to slouch, invisible ears flopping forward. "Of course it's real, only because I'd kill for you."
Soobin brightens at that, though he doesn't know if he has to be more concerned than flattered. "Thanks?" He mutters out.
"Hey, Soobin?" Yeonjun suddenly says after a petered out conversation, surprising him a bit.
Soobin nods, listening intently.
"What's your surname?"
Right, he hasn't given out his full name. There are a lot of things they should know about each other, so he'll let Yeonjun start.
"It's Choi, so my legal name is Choi Soobin." He introduces himself, feeling a little off. "Haven't I told you this before?"
"Hm? Oh, if you said anything about yourself during the 15-minute window of me eye fucking you, I didn't hear a thing." Yeonjun deadpans, stuffing himself full of movie snacks. Popcorn isn't so bad after all, is it?
"Really? Nothing at all?" Soobin asks, just to make sure. It seemed that 15 minutes of talking was all it took for Soobin to surrender, something he isn't proud of when he was the one resisting at first.
Yeonjun shrugs, his little blanket shoulder moving with his nonchalance. "I do remember that you have really pretty eyes. Oh! And I also remember you having a thing for older Japanese babes."
"Shut up, Hyung!" Soobin wails, covering his face with both hands. "That's not the point. If you're a robot of some kind, you'd have some sort of flawless memory system, or picture perfect memory even." He continues muffledly.
"Soobin, I'm not a robot. I'm alive and I have aspirations." Yeonjun pouts incredibly, puffing his cheeks. "Also, I get a little woozy if I don't have my fill of semen, so I'll blank out pretty easily."
That's difficult. That is so, so difficult. It's plenty difficult for him to deal with Yeonjun's forward advances already. There being a legitimate reason for him to be this way is alarming, and he doesn't know how much he's got in him.
Soobin thins his lips, wrapping his hands together on his knee. "What's the timer on this exactly?"
Yeonjun seems to have to ponder, it being his first day on his legs making it make a lot of sense. "I'd say... Maybe about a week? I'll get tired by the fourth day, though. If I don't eat enough, I'll revert to the onahole form."
Jeez, once a week. He could commit to once a month, but a week is pushing his limit.
"And what do you do in that form?"
"It's basically like the genie's lamp. I just live there until my walls get coated with enough lovin'. It is a part of me, so I feel it all." Yeonjun explains plainly, shrugging it off as if he's talking about the weather.
Soobin almost wants to deny this person's reality. At this point, he's already separated the man with the hole, the former being too pretty for his own good. Not that the hole wasn't pretty— but that's not relevant. If he ever considers the possibilities for this predicament, he'll never find a concrete answer. "You're weird, Hyung."
Yeonjun smiles, returning his eyes to the TV. "I'm not weird, I'm magic."