Archive of Our Own

For his first date with Sieun — and, though he'd never admit it, the first date of his life — Suho takes him to an aquarium.

He'd agonised over it for days. An aquarium seemed safe, somehow. He's never really been, and he figured that even if the conversation fell, there'd always be something to look at, some tank full of drifting fish to fill the silence. A backup plan, just in case.

Turns out Suho didn’t need to worry though, because there are no silences to fill.

That's the thing about Sieun. Suho only met him a few months ago, but it feels like he's known him forever — like talking to him is the easiest thing in the world. They drift from tank to tank, Sieun's face lit blue and shifting in the glow of the water, and Suho keeps forgetting to look at the fish at all.

Dinner comes after. Suho insists on paying, won't hear otherwise, and Sieun lets him with a small smile before quietly buying them ice-cream on the way out, just to even the score. And now, to round off the evening, they're walking — cones half-eaten, in no particular hurry to be anywhere.

The Han River is quiet at this hour, the water dark and glittering with the reflected lights of the city. They've been walking for a while now, slow and unhurried, their shoulders almost but not quite brushing with every step.

"What else do you like?" Sieun asks, glancing up at him. He really likes how tall Ahn Suho is.

And Suho almost says you.

It's sitting on his tongue, dangerously close to slipping out. Because the truth—the embarrassing, ridiculous, far-too-soon truth—is that Suho thinks he might already be in love.

On the first date. Which is insane. He knows it's insane. But Sieun is just so beautiful, walking beside him in the lamplight, and he's warm and funny, and Suho has had a quiet, hopeless crush on him for months, and now that they're finally, finally here—

Sure, he'd heard the rumours. Everyone's heard the rumours. That Sieun goes home with people on the first date, that he doesn't do second ones. And maybe that should bother Suho. But it doesn't. Strangely, it doesn't bother him at all. Because Suho isn't here for a rumour. He's here for Sieun, and he has been for a long time, and nothing—not a single thing—could deter him tonight.

He doesn't say that though. He's not that brave.

"Hm," he looks out at the water, scratching the back of his neck. "I think Spider-Man is pretty cool."

The second it's out of his mouth he wants to take it back. Spider-Man. On a first date. With the most beautiful person he's ever met. He has no idea why he's exposing the dorkiest, nerdiest corner of himself this early, before Sieun's even decided if he likes him—except that, somehow, with Sieun, it feels okay. It feels easy. Like he can just be himself.

Sieun looks up at him, and something in his chest goes soft.

Because god, Ahn Suho is cute. It's almost unfair. He's built like he could bench-press a car—broad shoulders, thick arms straining the sleeves of his jacket, the kind of handsome that makes people turn their heads on the street—and yet here he is, sheepish and pink-eared, confessing that he likes Spider-Man.

He's charming and gorgeous and he could probably have anyone he wanted, and instead he's a dork. A sweet, soft-spoken, ridiculously hot dork.

Sieun wants him. He's known it since about five minutes into the date. Maybe earlier. Suho is, without competition, the most attractive person Sieun has ever been out with, and that's saying something.

"Yeah?" Sieun says, fighting a smile. "What do you like about him?"

Suho shrugs, trying very hard to keep his thoughts in a straight line and not get distracted by the way the lights catch in Sieun's eyes. "Ah, you know. He's…really strong. Caring. Smart." He ticks them off, a little awkward. "He doesn't ask for anything in return. He just—helps people because it's the right thing. He's just cool."

Sieun is quiet for a second, watching him.

"He's kind of like you," he says.

Suho stops walking.

He stops mid-step, right there on the path, ice-cream cone forgotten in his hand. Sieun takes another half-step before he realises, then turns back, a flicker of confusion and concern crossing his face.

Suho is staring at him. And he is, officially, completely, hopelessly in love.

"Did you just compare me to Spider-Man?" Suho asks. His voice comes out a little strangled.

Sieun blinks. "Yes," He pauses. "Is that okay?"

"That's—" Suho swallows. "That's awesome." He says it with such genuine, unguarded sincerity that Sieun almost laughs. "Thanks. That's—that's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

And he truly means it. Sieun can see it all over his face, and it does something funny to his heart, something he isn't used to feeling on a first date, something warmer and more dangerous than simple want.

"You're being serious," Sieun says, a little wondering.

"Dead serious." Suho rubs the back of his neck again, ears burning. "I, uh. I might like him a little more than the average person. Spider-Man, I mean." He huffs out a laugh. "I kind of—collect stuff. Figures, comics, the—okay, this is going to sound so lame—"

"It doesn't," Sieun says.

"—posters, a couple of the limited-edition statues, the really good ones with the articulated—" Suho catches himself, grimacing. "Okay, I’m being a nerd. Sorry."

Sieun is smiling now, full and easy, and Suho thinks he might pass out. "I think it's cute," Sieun says. "That'd be cool to see, actually."

Suho's heart stutters.

He hesitates—just for a second, a flicker of nervousness, and then, before he can talk himself out of it, he asks,

"I—I could show you. If you want." His voice drops, suddenly shy. "At... at my place?"

And Sieun smiles to himself, slow and knowing.

Bingo.

He's been waiting all evening.

"Yeah," Sieun says, stepping a little closer, his voice warm. "I'd love to."

Suho lives alone, in the middle of the city, in a small but humble apartment.

He'd moved out of his halmeoni's place a few months ago, not long after he started working. It wasn't that he wanted to leave—but the late nights had started piling up, and he hated the thought of his key in the lock at two in the morning waking her, or the noise of him stumbling around getting ready before dawn disturbing the quiet she'd earned. She'd given him so much. The least he could do was let her sleep.

He'd offered, when he moved out, to send her part of his pay-check every month. She'd refused. He'd offered again the next month. She'd refused again, smacked him gently on the arm, told him to save it for himself, for his future, for some nice boy he'd bring home one day. He keeps offering anyway.

"She sounds lovely," Sieun says softly, as Suho tells him this in the elevator up.

"She is,” Suho smiles, fond and a little wistful. "She's the best." He glances at Sieun, and then—maybe too bold for a first date, maybe far too soon, but it feels right, it feels easy—he adds, "You're welcome to meet her sometime. If you want."

It's a big thing to say. His halmeoni is the only family he has. He doesn't bring people around. But the words are out before he can second-guess them, and standing in the elevator with Sieun beside him, he finds he doesn't want to take them back.

Sieun looks at him, a little surprised, and then something pleased settles over his features. "I'd like that," he says. And he means it—he'd genuinely like to meet the woman who raised someone this kind.

The apartment smells like laundry detergent when they step inside, clean and warm. Suho flicks on the light, and it casts everything in a low, moody gold—lamp-light, not that harsh overhead stuff. There are a few folded clothes stacked on the arm of the couch, shirts and a couple of towels, and Suho hurries over to scoop them up, ears going pink.

"Sorry—sorry about the mess," he says, a little flustered. "I didn't, uh. I didn't really expect to bring anyone back tonight." He bundles the laundry into his arms. "I would've cleaned up if I'd known."

"I don't mind," Sieun says. He likes it, actually. Likes seeing the real, version of Suho's life—the folded laundry, the single mug in the drying rack by the sink. It's intimate in a way Sieun isn't used to. He's been in a lot of apartments. They usually don't feel like someone. This one does.

He toes off his shoes and steps further in, taking it in. "Your place is nice," he says, and he means that too.

"It's small." Suho rubs the back of his neck, setting the laundry down somewhere out of sight. “I’d like to move to a bigger place in the future, once I’ve saved up.”

Sieun smiles. "It’s still cosy. I’d say you’re doing well.”

"Thanks," Suho looks pleased, and a little nervous, shifting his weight. "So, um," He gestures vaguely down the short hall. "….The collectibles are in my room."

Sieun nods slowly, lips curving.

Of course they are.

He thinks it's sweet, actually—that Suho is going to do the whole bit, that he's really going to show him the Spider-Man stuff first, like a gentleman, before getting to the rest of it. It's endearing. Most people drop the pretence the second the door closes. Suho's still committed to the romance of it, the slow build, and Sieun finds it weirdly charming.

"Lead the way," Sieun says.

Suho's room is small and tidy, the bed neatly made, and one entire wall is—

Spider-Man.

Sieun blinks. It's a lot. There's a glass display cabinet lit from within, lined with figures posed mid-swing, mid-punch, crouched and leaping. Comics in protective sleeves stacked along a shelf. A couple of posters, framed, not tacked up like a teenager's but actually framed. And on the top shelf, clearly the crown jewels, three large statues that Suho is already moving toward, his whole face lighting up.

"Okay, so—this one's my favourite," he says, pointing at the centre statue. "It's a limited edition, they only made like, two thousand of them, and the detailing on the webbing is all hand-painted, see? And this one—" he moves to the next, completely absorbed now, "—this one I had to wait six months for, it got held up in shipping, I almost lost my mind—"

He's glowing. Sieun has never seen anyone so happy.

It's adorable. It really is. And Sieun fully intends to let him finish, he does—but Suho's voice is warm and earnest and a little breathless with excitement, and the lighting is low and golden, and they're standing in his bedroom, and Sieun has been thinking about this all evening.

So yes, the collectibles are sweet. The build-up has been nice, but surely this is the part where the tour ends and the rest begins.

So while Suho is mid-sentence about articulated joints, Sieun reaches down and pulls his shirt off over his head.

"—and the paint application on this one is honestly the cleanest I've ever—"

Suho turns to point at the third statue.

And immediately freezes.

Sieun is standing in the middle of his bedroom, shirtless, calmly folding the shirt over one arm, looking at Suho with a small, expectant smile.

Suho's brain empties completely.

He makes a weird spluttered sound. It is not a word. His eyes go very wide and travel, entirely against his will, down and then very quickly back up to Sieun's face, his ears flushing crimson. "Wh—what are you—why is your shirt—"

Sieun tilts his head, amused. "Suho."

"Your shirt is off," Suho says, like he's reporting an emergency.

"It is," Sieun agrees gently. He takes a step closer.

Suho takes a step back. Directly into the display cabinet, which rattles ominously. He flinches, throwing a hand back to steady it, eyes still locked on Sieun in pure panic.

"Sorry—sorry, I just—" Suho's voice has gone high. "I—why—we were—I was showing you the—the statues—"

Sieun pauses. Something flickers across his face. "...Right," he says slowly. "The statues."

"They're hand-painted," Suho says weakly, strained.

And Sieun looks at him—at his huge panicked eyes and his bright red ears and the way he's pressed back against the cabinet, and a horrible, dawning realisation begins to creep over him.

"Suho," Sieun says carefully. "When you said you wanted to show me your collection."

"Y-yeah?"

"You….actually meant the collection."

"...Yes?" Suho says, bewildered. "What else would I—"

He stops.

His eyes drop—just briefly—to Sieun's bare chest, and then snap back up to his face, and Sieun watches the exact moment the second realisation hits him, the much larger one, the one that turns his entire face the colour of a Spider-Man suit.

"Oh," Suho breathes. "Oh. Oh no. You thought—when I said come up to my place—you thought I meant—"

"I think," Sieun says, with as much dignity as a shirtless man can muster, "we may have misunderstood each other."

Suho immediately spins on his heel, turning his back to Sieun so fast he nearly clips the cabinet again, putting his hands up.

"It's—it's fine, sorry, it's my fault," he squeaks, his whole face burning. "I'll just—you—take your time. Put your—yeah."

Sieun stares at his broad back for a second, somewhere between mortified and deeply, deeply charmed. He's never had this happen before. Usually the shirt coming off is a welcome development. Suho is acting like Sieun pulled a weapon on him.

"...Okay," Sieun says slowly, and reaches for his shirt.

He pulls it back on. The fabric settles. Suho remains resolutely facing the wall, shoulders up around his ears, staring at his own Spider-Man poster with great detail.

"You can turn around," Sieun says. "I'm decent."

Suho turns, cautiously, like he's bracing for it to be a trick. When he confirms that yes, Sieun is fully clothed, the tension drains out of him by about ten percent. The rest stays. His ears are still red.

"Sorry," Suho says again, scrubbing a hand down his face. "God. I'm so sorry, I didn't—I really did just want to show you the—" He gestures helplessly at the display case. "I wasn't trying to—I didn't bring you here to—"

"No, I get it," Sieun says, and he can't quite keep the smile off his face, because this is, hands down, the most endearing disaster he's ever been part of. "That one's on me. I made an assumption." He tucks his hands into his pockets, a little sheepish himself now. "I just figured—you know. Come up to my place. It usually means something."

"Right. Yeah. I—I've heard that's a thing," Suho says, which is somehow even more endearing.

Sieun huffs a laugh. "Look, it's okay. I know I've got a bit of a—" he tilts his head, searching for the word, "—reputation. Sleeping with people on the first date. It's a bit much, I know, not everyone's into—"

"No, it's not that," Suho interrupts.

Sieun pauses. "...No?"

"No, I—" Suho's mouth opens and closes. He looks at the floor. "It's not—I don't care about that. The rumours, or—I don't think any less of you, that's not—" He exhales. "That's not why I freaked out."

Sieun studies him. The blush. The way he can't quite meet Sieun's eyes. The fact that a guy who looks like that—built, gorgeous, just incredibly sexy—reacted to a shirtless date like a startled cat.

Something clicks into place.

"Suho," Sieun says, choosing his words as delicately as he can. "You have... slept with someone before, right?"

Suho goes very still.

And then, very quietly, eyes fixed firmly on the carpet, he says, "...Define 'slept with.'"

For a second, Sieun goes completely still.

He stares. This cannot be right. Suho? This Suho? Built like that, with arms like that, charming and warm and beautiful, is a virgin? It doesn't compute. It scrambles something in Sieun's brain. Guys who look like Suho do not make it to adulthood untouched. That's not how the world works.

"Oh," Sieun murmurs.

And Suho flushes all over again, deeper this time, embarrassed for an entirely new reason. He shifts his weight, arms crossing over his chest like he's trying to make himself smaller, which is almost funny given the size of him.

"It's—sorry," he says, flustered. "I know it—I know it probably seems strange. Someone my age. I get it if you—if you don't want to—if this is weird now—"

"Suho," Sieun cuts him off, gently. "It's okay."

Suho stops.

"You don't have to explain yourself," Sieun goes on, soft and steady. "It's…not a big deal. I'm not—I'm not judging you. At all," He offers a small, reassuring smile. "Honestly, I'm just surprised. Someone who looks like you, I just assumed. That's on me. Again." He huffs. "Apparently I assume a lot of things about you."

That earns him a flicker of a smile, and Suho's shoulders come down a little. The panic ebbs. But he's still deflecting, still not quite meeting Sieun's eyes, hands fidgeting.

Sieun nods toward the bed. "How about we sit? My standing in your room post-shirt-incident is making me feel a bit exposed."

Suho laughs, surprised out of him, and some of the awkwardness breaks. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

They sit, the two of them, a respectable and careful distance apart on the neatly made bed, Spider-Man watching over them from the wall. For a moment neither says anything.

"You don't have to tell me anything," Sieun says quietly. "But—can I ask?"

Suho nods.

"Have you kissed anyone before?"

"Yeah," Suho rubs his palms on his thighs. "A few girls. In high school," He shrugs. "Then I finally accepted that I was gay, so. That kind of stopped being a thing,” he chuckles, feeling a little awkward. “ ..And I didn't really know any other guys who were. So.”

Sieun listens, attentive, letting him take his time.

"And then a few years ago I was supposed to go to college," Suho continues. His voice changes slightly—lighter, but carefully so. "I-I figured that'd be my chance. I'd finally get to—you know. Explore. See what happened." He pauses. "But then..."

He goes quiet.

Sieun watches him, a soft crease of concern forming between his brows. "College didn't pan out?" he prompts gently.

Suho is quiet for a beat longer. Something passes over his face—not quite shame, but close to it, a kind of remorse. Then he shakes his head.

"No, it's—it wasn't that." He exhales. "I, uh. I was in an accident. The summer before I was supposed to start." His thumb traces a slow line over his knee. "I was in a coma for almost three years."

Sieun's heart drops straight through the floor.

He stares at Suho—at this kind, gorgeous, gentle person sitting beside him, and he tries to imagine it. The years lost. Waking up to find the world had moved on without him. All that time, just gone.

"I'm so sorry," Sieun murmurs. He means it more than he's meant almost anything.

Suho looks at him, and then—impossibly—he smiles. Soft and a little tired. "Mm. It's okay."

And Sieun thinks, helplessly, that he really, really loves Suho's smile.

"I'm awake now," Suho says, with a small one-shouldered shrug. "But, yeah. I just—never really got around to..." He gestures vaguely between them, ears pinking again. "You know. The sex part of things.”

"I understand," Sieun says softly. "It's not your fault. And it's really not a big deal."

Suho looks at him for a long moment, something warm and a little awed settling over his features.

"You're so..." He searches for the word. "Kind," he says finally. "You're really warm-hearted. You have been this entire date."

Sieun blinks, caught a little off guard, and then smiles. The truth is, no one really says things like that to him. People tell him he's beautiful. People tell him he's hot, or whatever. People look at him with want, with hunger, like he's something to be had. They don't usually call him kind. They don't notice his heart.

It's nice. It's really nice, to be seen for something other than that.

"Thanks," Sieun says quietly. "That's—not really what people usually notice about me."

"Their loss," Suho says simply.

Sieun has to look away for a second.

They sit in it for a moment, the quiet comfortable now rather than awkward, and then Suho shifts, turning a little more toward him, curiosity creeping into his expression.

"Can I ask you something now?" he says. "Since you asked me."

"Of course.”

"The dates you've been on," Suho fidgets with the hem of his sleeve. "The—you know. The guys. How many..." He frowns slightly, like he's not sure how to phrase it without being rude. "I guess I just figured, from the way people talked, that there'd been a lot."

Sieun huffs a soft laugh. "Three," he says.

Suho blinks. "Three?"

"Three," Sieun shrugs. "The rumours make it sound like I'm working through the whole city. It's not—it was three guys,” He picks at a loose thread on the duvet. "…It wasn't fun."

That clearly surprises Suho. "Wait, really? It wasn't—" He stops himself, ears going pink. "Sorry. I just—I assumed if you, um. Kept doing it. That you liked it."

"You'd think," Sieun sighs, quiet and a little rueful. "I guess they just never made me feel good,” He turns the thread over between his fingers. "…I only ever really did it because I thought it'd make me feel wanted. For a night, at least." He smiles a small, self-deprecating smile. "Turns out that wears off pretty fast."

Suho is quiet, watching him. He doesn’t really think too much before he speaks.

"I would make you feel good, Sieun.”

Sieun's head turns.

Suho seems to hear himself a half-second too late, but he doesn't take it back. He looks at Sieun, steady, a little flushed but certain. He means it completely.

Sieun arches a brow, the teasing edge slipping back into his voice, a defence as much as anything. "Would you even know how?"

He’s teasing obviously, they both know that.

Suho lifts his chin, mock-offended, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Yah," he says. "I may have never done…it before. But I'm not an idiot. I know things."

"Yeah?" Sieun says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "You know things."

"I know some things," Suho amends, which is somehow more endearing than if he'd just kept bluffing.

Sieun laughs softly, and it's then that he notices how close they've drifted on the bed—the respectable distance from earlier quietly closed somewhere along the way, neither of them having decided to do it.

Their knees are nearly touching now. Suho's eyes keep dropping, just barely, to Sieun's mouth, and then darting back up, like he's not sure he's allowed to look.

It does something to Sieun, the shyness of it. After three men who took without ever really seeing him, there's something disarming about someone who looks at him like this—like he's nervous, like he's lucky to even be near him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" Sieun says, softer now.

Suho nods.

"Have you ever kissed a guy before?"

Suho's throat bobs. He shakes his head. "No," he admits. "Just—the girls. Never a guy," A small, breathless huff escapes him.

Sieun holds his gaze for a moment. His heart is doing something stupid and unfamiliar in his chest.

"Could I be the first?" he asks.

And the look on Suho's face—

"Yes," Suho breathes, immediate, like the word had been waiting at the front of his mouth this whole time. "Yeah. Please."

Sieun smiles, and leans in.

He goes slow. He lifts a hand to Suho's jaw, feather-light, giving him every chance to pull back, and when he doesn't—when Suho just holds very still, breath caught, eyes fluttering shut—Sieun closes the last of the distance and presses their lips together.

It's gentle. Sieun keeps it easy and unhurried, letting Suho set the pace, expecting to have to be the one to guide this, to lead a nervous first-timer through it.

And then Suho's hand comes up to the side of Sieun's neck, warm and sure, and he tilts his head, and he deepens it—drawing Sieun in, his mouth moving against Sieun's with a slow, unhurried confidence that absolutely should not belong to someone who's never done this before.

Sieun makes a small, surprised sound against his lips.

Because—oh. Suho is good at this. He's really good at this. There's nothing clumsy about it, nothing fumbling. He kisses like he means it, deliberate and warm and just a little bit consuming, one hand cradling Sieun's jaw, and Sieun feels it everywhere, all the way down his spine.

When they finally part, just a breath, Sieun's eyes are a little wide.

"I thought," he says, slightly dazed, "you said you'd never kissed a guy."

"I haven't," Suho's eyes are dark, his ears pink, but there's the faint, pleased curve of a smile on his lips. "I'm a fast learner."

"That's... good to know," Sieun breathes.

"Mm," Suho's voice has dropped, lower now. "I have a lot of things to learn.”

Sieun's stomach flips. He's not used to this—being the one knocked off balance. But Suho is looking at him through dark eyes, his hand still warm against Sieun's neck, and something has shifted in the air between them that has Sieun's heart climbing into his throat.

He swallows. He tries to hold onto the careful, considerate version of himself, the one that remembers exactly what Suho told him fifteen minutes ago. He’s a virgin.

"We can take it slow," Sieun says, and he means it, even if his voice has gone slightly unsteady. "Nothing else has to happen tonight. There's no—we don't have to rush anything."

His head is spinning, because Suho hasn't looked away once, and there's nothing nervous left in his expression now. Just want. Pure desire, fixed entirely on Sieun, and Sieun—who has been looked at with lust more times than he can count—has never been looked at quite like this. Like he's wanted and something more than that.

Sieun feels, absurdly, like he might be the one about to blush.

"I mean it," he whispers, even as Suho's face drifts closer, even as his own pulse stutters. "I'm—I'm willing to wait. For you. As long as you need."

Sieun already knew that he wanted to see Suho again. He wants to keep Ahn Suho for a long, long time.

Suho pauses, a breath away from him. His thumb strokes once, slow, along the line of Sieun's jaw.

"Sieun-ah," he murmurs, and there's the faintest curve of a smile in it, warm and certain. "I'm twenty-three years old." He closes the last inch of space, his lips brushing the corner of Sieun's mouth. "I think I'm done with waiting."

Sieun can barely breathe before Suho’s lips are on his again, but there’s nothing shy about it anymore. It’s deeper now, hungrier. Suho’s hand slides from Sieun's jaw to the back of his neck to hold him there, close, closer.

Sieun lets himself sink into it for a moment, lets Suho pull him in—and then, gently, he presses forward.

He presses a hand flat against Suho's chest, guiding him back, and Suho goes easily, letting himself be lowered down against the mattress until Sieun is over him, knees bracketing his hips, looking down at him in the low gold light.

Suho is looking up at him with dark, blown eyes and kiss-bitten lips, waiting for more.

"You're sure," Sieun murmurs, because he has to ask, because it matters. "You can stop me anytime. Anything you don't—"

"Sieun." Suho's hands find his waist, warm and steady, thumbs pressing into the dip of his hips. "I've been thinking about this for months." There’s a small smile on his lips. "I'm sure."

Months, Sieun thinks, dizzy.

He leans down and kisses him again, and Suho rises up to meet him, and for all that he's never done this—for all that Sieun expected to do the leading, the teaching, the careful guiding of a nervous first-timer—it's quickly, devastatingly clear that Suho has absolutely no intention of being led.

He's eager, yes, learning the shape of Sieun by touch, but underneath the eagerness is something Sieun didn't expect: determination. Like Suho has decided, somewhere along the way, that he's going to be the best Sieun's ever had—and is fully prepared to make good on it.

Sieun is fully settled on top of Suho now as they make out, his fingers in Suho’s hair, careful not to pull (just yet), as Suho’s hands stay firmly on his waist, unconsciously guiding Sieun’s hips down onto his crotch.

Suho is loud. They’re only kissing and yet all sorts of whimpers and hums are escaping from him, and Sieun is loving it, it’s so hot, each sound sends heat straight to his stomach. He’s a little hard already and in other circumstances he’d feel pathetic if it wasn’t for how hard Suho was underneath him already.

Sieun’s hands roam down to the hem of Suho’s shirt and he tugs on it gently, separating their lips just a few millimetres apart so he can breathe the question “Can I take this off?”

“Y-yeah, go ahead,” Suho says, and he sounds wrecked already.

Sieun leans back and starts, almost frantically, unbuttoning Suho’s shirt. He’s so cute, dressing up for their date. Sieun can’t wait to see him naked.

Suho is breathing hard, his chest rising up and down as Sieun works his way through each button, until he opens his shirt up, exposing his gorgeous skin underneath. Sieun takes a moment just to drink him in. He’s gorgeous, tan, surprisingly toned. Ripped.

“Fuck, you’re so…”

“Like what you see?” Suho blushes, looking up at Sieun with blown pupils.

“Love,” Sieun whispers, and then he’s bringing his face down so that he can kiss Suho’s chest, leaving a trail of kisses down to his stomach, then abdomen. Suho is whimpering at each touch, his abs clenching when Sieun gets closer to his clothed crotch.

“Ah—Ah, wait, Sieun-ah, I want to see—see you too,” he breathes. “Please take off your shirt again. I—I won’t freak out this time,” he adds, and Sieun just finds him so cute.

“Okay, of course,” Sieun nods, raising his head. He takes his shirt off, over his head, and tosses it somewhere to the side, both fully shirtless now. Suho’s hand tentatively comes up to trace a line just under Sieun’s nipple.

“You’re so pretty,” Suho murmurs. “I…I want to touch you. Can I?”

“Mhm,” Sieun hums.

He expects Suho to caress his chest a little more, but what he does is the complete opposite. He gently takes Sieun’s arm, pushes his hips up and flips them over, so that Sieun lands on his back against the mattress. He lets out a soft gasp in surprise, which quickly fades into a pleased hum when Suho starts kissing his neck, like he’s in heat.

Suho’s lips against his skin feels so good, each touch leaving warmth. Sieun has never been so turned on before in his life, by a virgin, of all people.

Suho’s lips start to move down, pressing kisses at Sieun’s clavicle, then down, really taking his time, working his way down Sieun’s stomach.

Sieun’s hand rests in Suho’s hair as he kisses further down, now at the waistband of his jeans. He hesitates for a second, looking up at Sieun through lidded eyes. “What do I….Can I take it—”

“Take it off, yeah,” Sieun finishes his question for him. “You still doing okay?” he adds, just to check. Surely, things are becoming overwhelming for a person who has never been in this position before.

“Yes,” Suho says quietly. “I just—I really want to be good for you, Sieun. Let me know what feels good, okay? I’ll do anything.”

“I know,” Sieun hums. “Don’t overthink it.”

That’s enough reassurance for now. Suho unbuttons Sieun’s jeans with slightly shaking fingers, before he pulls them off with the assistance of Sieun lifting his lips. Once he’s only in his boxers, Suho can see that he’s hard. He swallows thickly.

Sieun doesn’t want to laugh at how Suho looks like he’s about to drool any second now.

“You can take them off, too,” Sieun adds. “Then you can prep me,”

Suho takes a deep breath, steadying himself, nodding eagerly. He slowly tugs the fabric down, exposing Sieun fully now. The inside of his thighs look a little wet, a mixture of pre-cum and sweat. Suho feels like he’s about to pass out. It’s the hottest thing he’s seen. He wants to taste it.

“You’ll need lube first, Suho-yah,” Sieun says, because he feels like Suho needs to be reminded. Suho tears his eyes away from down there to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” he whispers, licking his lips.

“Do you have lube—”

“Can I eat you out first?” Suho interrupts, sounding strained and so needy.

Sieun’s mouth goes dry. His dick gets even harder, if that was possible.

“Is that what you want?”

“Please,” Suho groans softly. “You look so good. Want to make you feel good. Please, Sieun-ah.”

As soon as Sieun gives him the green light, Suho’s face is down in between Sieun’s thighs, his tongue lapping at Sieun’s hole like he hasn’t eaten in days, moving it relentlessly, sucking and moaning into him. The vibrations travel up Sieun’s body and he’s gasping in pure surprise and pleasure.

“Ah—Fuck, Suho—”

Suho lets out a low moan at the sound of his name, pushing his tongue inside now, just a little, relaxing the muscles down here, before he’s licking back up, just below Sieun’s balls.

He feels dizzy with pleasure. “Suho—Suho, wait—”

“Hm?” Suho hums, lifting his face up, his chin and lips covered in shiny saliva. Sieun can’t believe how hot it is.

“How are you so—good at this—” He asks. There’s no way a virgin can be this skilled with their tongue. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Suho shakes his head, but he looks so pleased with himself. “….This is how they do it in porn,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed again. “Does it feel good?”

“You pervert,” Sieun sighs, so incredibly turned on. “Yes, it feels good, Suho.”

“I like it when you say my name,” he admits, licking his lips again, desperate to taste Sieun once more. “Say it again while I suck your pretty cock.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sieun whispers. Suho might be the most freaked out virgin he’s ever met.

And as soon as Suho’s lips are around his tip, Sieun feels like he might come already. He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s just so incredibly attracted to Suho, he’s so worked up, so desperate for more, but knows not to rush things, even though he really really wants Suho to fuck him soon.

“Fuck,” Sieun whispers, gripping Suho’s hair as he takes all of him in his mouth, swirling his tongue around him, one hand holding Sieun’s thigh, the other resting near Sieun’s entrance, his fingers slowly circling around his hole.

Suho doesn’t stop. He’s like a machine, sucking, tasting as much as he can, moaning around him. Even when his jaw starts to ache, he’s determined to make Sieun cum.

“Suho, fuck, that’s so good—I’m—wait I’m close—you should probably—”

Suho groans in protest, moving even faster now, almost gagging on Sieun’s dick. He wants to swallow his come. Wants to feel Sieun in the back of his throat for days.

“Fuck, fuck, Suho—” Sieun whines, pulling Suho’s hair a little, as he bucks his hips. Suho stays put, even as Sieun comes in his mouth, panting a string of moans as he comes down. Suho doesn’t even hesitate in swallowing what he can, gently pulling off his mouth, leaving a kiss on Sieun’s tip before he lifts his head, with big needy eyes, hoping he did well.

“Did I do good?” Suho asks, his voice hoarse, chin soaked and glistening.

“Yeah, yeah you did,” Sieun whispers, breathless. “Fuck.”

Suho blushes, the pink shade spreading to his chest and ears, a little breathless himself. Sieun wants to eat him.

“Can I finger you next?” Suho asks, so politely, Sieun might not be able to keep up.

He nods. Suho looks so excited.

“You’re so wet already, Sieun-ah,” he murmurs. “All because of me,” he smiles. “I should still use lube, right?”

It takes Sieun a few moments to answer. He’s still seeing stars from the orgasm Suho just gave him. “Yes,” he manages to get out.

Suho nods quickly and crawls over to the bedside cabinet, opening one of the drawers and rummaging underneath the pairs of socks and boxers for his bottle of lube. He returns to his previous position and coats his fingers in it, throwing the bottle nearby for later. He warms it up between his fingers. He’s sort of just copying what he’s seen in porn, but it looks like he’s doing a good job so far.

Sieun is so beautiful. His face is a little flushed, hair starting to stick to his forehead from sweat. Wrecked already and Suho hasn’t even been inside him yet. He almost cums at the thought of it.

“O-okay, I’m going to put one in now,” Suho announces.

Sieun almost snorts at how cute that is. “I can take it. Go ahead.”

Suho takes a deep breath and circles his hole once more, before gently pushing the tip of his index finger inside. Sieun is tight, tighter than he expected, and he’s very warm. He sort of just sucks Suho’s finger inside. It’s kind of fascinating.

“Is—is that okay?” Suho asks, checking Sieun’s face for signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” Sieun hums. “You can put it in deeper. Start moving it in and out,” he instructs.

“Okay, okay,” Suho nods, and does just that. He watches as his finger disappears inside Sieun, earning a low hum of approval from him. He starts pumping it inside and out, slowly at first, before building up a rhythm. Sieun is moaning softly again. He really likes Suho’s fingers, they’re so long, a little calloused. Feels good.

“Add another.”

And Suho listens, gently pushing his middle finger inside alongside his other, watching as he slowly stretches Sieun open, nice and deep. Once he’s confident that Sieun isn’t in pain or anything, he starts scissoring him open, moving his fingers a little deeper, curling inside until he finds Sieun’s prostate, earning a louder whimper.

“There?” Suho whispers, looking at Sieun for approval.

“Right there,” Sieun breathes. “Just like that. Keep going. You’re doing so good, Suho-yah.”

Suho exhales softly and keeps fingering him open, rubbing at that sweet spot, adding a third finger when he’s brave enough, until Sieun is a squirming mess underneath him, grinding his hips down in time with the pace of Suho’s fingers.

“I want you to fuck me now,” Sieun moans. “Please. Can you?”

“I want you to cum on my fingers first. Can you cum again, Sieun-ah?” Suho retorts, his voice sounding innocent despite it all.

Sieun’s stomach twists. “Ah—I—Okay—”

“Mm, that’s it,” Suho murmurs, moving his fingers a little quicker, curling them when he can. “You—you look so good,” he adds. “Can you say my name again?”

God, Sieun feels like he’s going to burst. He’s full with Suho’s fingers, his dick neglected, aching, and yet Suho’s fingers are moving so quickly, reaching deeper than he thought possible, and all he can think about is—

“Suho,” he moans, eyes shut. “Fuck, Suho—”

“Open your eyes, Sieun-ah. I miss how pretty they are.”

His eyes shoot open, surprised but too far gone to say anything. He almost blushes at the way Suho is looking at him, so intently, so gone, too.

“You’re so beautiful,” Suho whispers over the lewd sound of his fingers pumping in and out of him. “I’m gonna make you cum again—”

“Suho…” he whimpers. He’s overwhelmed in the best way. He’s never been so looked after before.

“That’s it,” Suho murmurs, finally taking Sieun’s dick in his other hand. Sieun’s hips buck a little.

“Ah—”

“Cum for me, Sieun-ah, please,” Suho says, before he starts stroking Sieun in time with the movement of his fingers, his grip firm and warm, and Sieun has no idea how he is able to be so good at this.

Tears form in his eyes as he has his second orgasm, only a few strokes of his dick later, his abdomen clenching as he cums over Suho’s fist, dribbling down onto his v-line. He’s breathing hard, trying to catch his breath, seeing stars all over again.

“There you go, so pretty, did so well,” Suho murmurs softly, his hands coming to a slow stop, gently taking his fingers out of Sieun, before licking them off.

Sieun stares in pure awe. He’s seriously a pervert. A pervert virgin freak.

“Was that—too much?” Suho asks, a little worried. “Do you feel—”

“You’re perfect,” Sieun breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever—felt that good,” he admits.

Suho is practically glowing with praise, a boyish grin spreading on his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” Sieun asks once his breathing is more measured now.

Suho blinks, then blushes again, nodding his head slowly. “Y-yeah, I—I can—try—”

“You’ll do great,” Sieun reassures him.

“Do…do you have a condom?” Suho asks, his face warm again. This is getting too real. He’s about to have sex for the first time. With Yeon Sieun. The boy he’s been borderline obsessed with for months.

“Mhm. In the pocket of my jeans,” he answers. He knew he’d need it. But now that he’s actually here in bed with Suho, he sort of doesn’t want it.

Is he as freaked out as Suho for wanting to really feel him? Every vein, every pulse, none of that latex bullshit. He’s never done it unprotected before. But he might just do it with Ahn Suho.

Suho is reaching for Sieun’s discarded jeans when Sieun’s voice disrupts him.

“I’m uh, clean.”

Suho turns back, and looks confused for a moment.

Sieun gives him a small smile. “We don’t have to use the condom,” he clarifies. “Unless you want to.”

Suho is blushing furiously at the thought, his heart beating erratically. “I…I don’t mind,” he clears his throat. “I don’t think I’m carrying anything,” he adds. “I mean, I’ve never been tested but….”

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Fuck,” Suho breathes, winded. “Are you sure? What if…”

“You’re probably clean, Suho. This is your first time doing anything. Even oral. I think we’re okay. And I promise you I’m clean, too. I was tested last week and haven’t slept with anyone since.” Sieun reassures him.

Suho sits there in between his legs, listening carefully.

“But we can use protection if that makes you feel better, Suho-yah. It’s the smart thing to do anyway—”

“No,” Suho murmurs, swallowing thickly. “No I want—want to feel you properly. As much as I can.”

Sieun smiles, pleased. “Then come over here.”

Suho takes a shaky breath and moves closer, hovering over Sieun before their lips meet again, a little slower this time. Sieun can taste himself on Suho’s tongue and it’s the hottest thing, moving languidly, soft sounds escaping Suho’s throat. He’s shaking a little on top of Sieun, knowing what comes next.

“Don’t be nervous,” Sieun murmurs once they pull apart, their faces still close to each other, searching each other’s eyes.

Suho sighs softly, moving to press a gentle kiss on Sieun’s forehead. That’s new. Sieun feels like he’s in a dream.

“I—I know, I’m just—” Suho hesitates, looking down at Sieun with a worried expression. “I’m scared—”

Scared? Sieun doesn’t want Suho to be feeling that way. He does understand that things are moving pretty quickly between them, on their first date, no less. And Suho is about to go all the way for the first time, but he doesn’t want him to be scared.

“We really don’t have to, then,” Sieun says softly, moving a few strands of hair away from Suho’s eyes. “I know it’s a lot—”

“No! No, it’s – it’s not that, I- I want to—” Suho stammers, flushed, shaking his head.

Sieun gives him a fond look. “What’s the problem, then?”

“…I really don’t want to hurt you,” Suho murmurs, genuinely fearful, like he can’t imagine anything worse.

“You won’t—”

“I’m worried I won’t fit,” Suho continues, blushing again.

Sieun blinks, stunned for a second. “I—”

“I’m big, Sieun-ah,” he says quietly, before leaning down to hide his face in the crook of Sieun’s neck, embarrassed.

Sieun doesn’t respond for a second, unsure how to. He lets out a soft exhale, a mix of a laugh and sigh, moving one hand to cradle the back of Suho’s neck, gently massaging, holding him there.

It’s then he realises that Suho never took his pants off. He’s been so distracted, so focused on Suho’s tongue and his fingers that he didn’t realise Suho has been rock hard under his jeans, probably aching, probably in pain—the poor thing. So he doesn’t know how big Suho really is. He hasn’t seen him yet.

“It’s…okay,” Sieun murmurs softly after a few beats of silence. “I’m sure I can take it.”

Suho lets out a small groan against his skin, nuzzling his nose against his neck.

“Will you show me, Suho-yah?” Sieun encourages. “I want to see you too, you know. Want you to feel as good as I do.”

Suho exhales softly, tentatively lifting his head to look at Sieun again. His blush has spread over his cheeks again, down to his neck a little. It’s the sweetest sight. Sieun thinks he might love him.

“Okay,” Suho mumbles. He reaches down to unbutton his jeans, but then he stops, and hesitates.

Sieun is patient, he wants to be, giving him grace because he knows Suho has never done this before, but God, if he isn’t desperate to have Suho inside of him already.

“Are you—”

“What if I don’t last long?” Suho interrupts, nervous again. “What if I—what if I don’t make you feel good—and I—I don’t want to embarrass myself—”

“Suho, Suho, baby,” Sieun cuts him off, pulling him down for a kiss, just to shut him up a little. Suho melts into it for a few moments before pulling apart, looking down at him with slightly glossy eyes.

Yeah, Sieun is in love with him.

“It doesn’t matter how long you last, I promise,” Sieun traces the curve of his jaw softly. “You’ve already made me feel so good. I came twice because of you. You won’t embarrass yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” Suho whispers, trusting him.

“Say it. Say you won’t embarrass yourself.”

Suho lets out a stifled, wet laugh, wiping his eyes. “I—I won’t embarrass myself,” he repeats.

“Good, my sweet boy,” Sieun smiles, adjusting Suho’s hair once more.

Suho feels like he might melt. His fingers are still on his jeans, almost frozen, even though he really wants to move. He’s just in awe, of how kind and beautiful Sieun is.

“How about I help you, okay?” Sieun suggests, reaching down a hand to Suho’s waist. “I’ll unbutton them.”

“O-okay, yeah, thanks,” Suho nods, removing his hand to allow Sieun some space. Sieun doesn’t break eye contact as he fumbles with the button, until it’s finally undone. He slowly unzips Suho’s jeans, the sound suddenly deafening in the thick silence.

Suho thanks him again and leans back, slowly pulling his jeans down his hips and thighs, until Sieun can see the strained outline of Suho’s cock in his boxers, and….yeah. Suho wasn’t lying. Sieun can already tell he’s…..gifted, in that department. Sieun waits until his jeans are off and discarded to the side before he speaks.

“You’re so hard, Suho-yah,” He murmurs, a little in awe too. “I can’t wait to have you inside of me.”

Suho lets out an embarrassed whine, covering his face for a moment. “You—you can’t just say things like that,” he retorts, muffled by his hand.

Sieun laughs, genuinely amused. “You’ve already said things dirtier things—!”

“No—I know, I’m just—I’m worried I’ll cum in my pants just from your voice—” Suho stammers, uncovering his blushing face.

“That would be hot,” Sieun teases, growing warmer at the thought.

Suho shakes his head, a little amused but mainly embarrassed too. “Let’s just—Can I—”

“Yeah, take them off,” Sieun encourages.

So Suho does, albeit shyly.

And oh. Oh.

Sieun almost drools at the sight.

“You’re gorgeous,” Sieun murmurs, really resisting the urge to reach out and touch, just in case Suho cums like that. “You’re leaking, Suho-yah.”

And he is. Dabbles of pre-cum escaping his angry, swollen tip. Sieun needs him inside desperately.

Suho nods, wanting to look away out of shyness but he can’t tear his eyes off the beautiful boy beneath him. “I really want you, Sieun,” he admits softly.

“I really want you too,” Sieun breathes. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Suho whispers, before he reaches over for the bottle of lube from earlier, squirting some around Sieun’s hole. He shivers a little before Suho is moving his fingers down there to warm him up.

And when Suho finally lines himself up at Sieun’s entrance, Sieun tries to reign in his excitement. He knows he needs to be patient with Suho, that they need to do this slowly.

“O-okay, I’m—I’ll……just the tip maybe—” Suho begins, nervous rambling most likely, not wanting to hurt Sieun, not wanting to finish the moment he pushes inside.

“Take your time,” Sieun says softly. “Go slow, okay?”

Suho nods, not trusting himself to speak. Very gently, he guides himself inside, just a little, and sucks in a harsh breath. This is so much more intense than having a finger inside. Sieun is so warm, so tight around him, so wet, Suho really doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do this.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” Sieun breathes, wanting more, needing more, but still being patient. “You can go deeper.”

Suho lets out a low groan as he pushes in more, into more heat, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Sieun feels amazing around him, like he was made for him, it’s too much—

Sieun lets out a low hum, feeling more and more satisfied as he starts to get filled. Suho is definitely the biggest he’s had, it takes some adjusting to.

“Ah—fuck, Sieun-ah, you feel so good…” Suho whimpers, having to shut his eyes for a  second just to ground himself.

“You feel good too, Suho-yah. Feel so full,” Sieun sighs softly, resting his hands around Suho’s biceps (those are big, too. God.)

“’M only half—half way,” Suho groans weakly.

Jesus, he’s big. Sieun takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the rest. 

“Fuck, you seriously feel amazing. You’re unreal,” Suho praises once more, still slowly pushing inside, feeling Sieun around him. He’s utterly consumed by him. Sieun Sieun Yeon Sieun—

And when Suho is finally inside, every inch inside, they both let out a soft moan. Suho falls a little bit, their bare chests touching as Suho hides his face in the crook of Sieun’s neck again.

“F-fuck, Sieun…” Suho whimpers, and it sounds like he could cry.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sieun consoles him, caressing the back of his head, holding him. “You’re doing so well. I feel so good already,”

Suho relaxes a little, glad to hear that. He kisses Sieun’s jaw, planting a few more on his neck.

“I’m….I’ll start moving,” Suho tells him after a few moments of Sieun adjusting to him, to them just feeling each other. “Please—please tell me if I—If I’m hurting you. And I’ll—I’ll stop immediately—”

“You won’t hurt me, promise,” Sieun says, cupping Suho’s face with his smaller hands. Suho leans into it, sighing softly.

“Okay,” Suho murmurs, before he tentatively draws out, just a little, both making a sound at the movement, and then he’s pushing himself back in, still slow, but it sends a rush of warmth through them both. It feels euphoric. Suho can’t believe he was missing out on sex before this.

“Just like that,” Sieun whispers. “Again, more—”

The first few thrusts are slow, Suho taking his time to really feel Sieun, the way he clenches around him, listening to those pretty sounds he’s making, trying desperately not to cum in the first thirty seconds.

But Suho’s pace grows faster in no time, getting lost in the feeling, in how hot and tight Sieun feels – and Sieun lets him, because Suho’s tip keeps hitting his prostate effortlessly, just due to his sheer length and luck rather than skill, and it feels so fucking good.

“Sieun—Sieun-ah, fuck—you’re so—I can’t—I won’t be able to – fuck—” Suho is being loud again, his body trembling as he fucks into Sieun, fast and a little sloppy now, his inexperience showing, but Sieun loves it – he’s feeling so good, still sensitive from his earlier orgasms, and surprisingly he’s getting closer too.

“Me too, Suho—ngh, fuck, so good—” Sieun mewls. “Kiss me—”

Suho obeys immediately, capturing his mouth in a hot and feverish kiss, their tongues making a mess of each other, a little off-balance from Suho’s thrusts, but delicious regardless.

Soon enough Suho can’t keep up anymore, pulling his mouth away, resting his chin in Sieun’s shoulder as his last few thrusts get harder, so hard that Sieun feels it in his stomach—

“Suho—I’m gonna—” he can’t believe he’s going to come untouched, nothing but the feeling of Suho inside of him, his cock being rubbed between their stomachs with each thrust.

“Me—me too,” Suho moans against his skin, not before biting down just above Sieun’s clavicle, earning a pleasured wince from Sieun, and before they can both utter another word, Suho is cumming, hard – it’s like he doesn’t stop, painting Sieun’s insides for several long moments, and as soon as Sieun feels it, the first drop of heat, his orgasm wrecks through him, digging his nails into Suho’s back before he can think about it.

“Sieun-ah,” Suho groans softly, both of them breathing heavily. Sieun blinks a few times, slowly letting his hands fall from Suho’s back. He hopes he didn’t hurt him, but then again Suho doesn’t seem to mind either.

In fact, he’s collapsed forward against Sieun's chest, his face tucked into the curve of Sieun's neck, and he doesn't move. He stays there, a heavy, solid weight, breathing hard against Sieun's skin as he comes down.

Sieun lets him. He doesn't mind the weight at all, actually — likes it, even. He lifts a hand and threads his fingers into Suho's damp hair, slow and absent, carding through it gently, scratching lightly at his scalp the way. Suho makes a small, contented sound against his throat and moves closer.

A minute passes. Then another, and Suho still hasn't moved.

"...Suho-yah?" Sieun murmurs, a little worried now. “Did you fall asleep on me?"

A low hum vibrates against his neck. A warm and lazy sound, deeply satisfied.

Sieun huffs a soft laugh. "That's not an answer."

"M'awake," Suho mumbles, finally, though he makes no attempt to actually lift his head. "Just...give me a second. I think you ruined me."

"I ruined you?" Sieun says, incredulous, still petting his hair. "I think you have that backwards."

Suho lifts his head at that, just enough to look at Sieun, and there's a dopey, pleased, slightly dazed smile on his face that makes Sieun's heart do something embarrassing. His hair is a disaster. His eyes are soft. He looks wrecked in the best possible way.

"Yeah?" Suho says, and there's a hint of something smug under the sweetness. "Was it—was that okay?"

"Give me a minute and I'll fill out a full review," Sieun says dryly, and Suho laughs, bright and surprised, and finally peels himself off.

He's careful, slowly pulling out before he’s propping himself up, checking Sieun's face, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes with a tenderness that makes Sieun feel oddly exposed.

Then he's moving, climbing off the bed on unsteady legs, padding to the bathroom. Sieun hears the tap run. When Suho comes back it's with a warm, damp cloth, and he sits on the edge of the bed and cleans Sieun up with a focus that's almost comically earnest, like it's another thing he's determined to do well.

"You don't have to—" Sieun starts.

"I want to," Suho says simply, and that's that.

It's such a small thing. Sieun's three previous partners certainly never bothered. They were usually reaching for their phones before Sieun had caught his breath. But Suho wipes him down gently, tosses the cloth toward the laundry basket (misses, frowns at it, decides to deal with it later), and then pulls the blanket up over both of them as he settles back in, gathering Sieun against his side, melting into him.

For a while they just lie there, tangled and warm.

"So," Suho says eventually, quiet. "Are you—was that good? For you?" There's a flicker of nerves under it, the old shyness creeping back now that the heat's faded. "I know I've never—I just. I really wanted it to be good for you. Was I—" He hesitates. "Was I good enough?"

Sieun turns his head to look at him. At his hopeful, uncertain eyes. At this gorgeous, sweet, ridiculous man who's apparently still worried he might've fallen short after that.

"Suho," Sieun says, firm and warm. "That was the best I've ever had. By a wide margin. It's not even close."

Suho blinks. "Really?"

"Really." Sieun reaches up to kiss him gently on the forehead. "I'm serious. You don't need to worry. You were—" He exhales, a little flustered himself now. "You were really good. I felt—" He stops, then says it, because it's true and Suho deserves to hear it. "I felt wanted. The whole time. That's never really happened before."

Something soft and overwhelmed crosses Suho's face. He pulls Sieun in a little closer, presses a kiss to the top of his head.

"Thank you," he says quietly. And then, after a moment, he adds, "Not just for—I mean. Thank you for not making fun of me. For the—for any of it. The collectibles, and the freaking out, and the—the virgin thing." He laughs a little, embarrassed. "I thought for sure you'd think I was a total loser."

"I do think you're a loser," Sieun says, deadpan. "You have a glass display case full of Spider-Man statues and you tried to give me a guided tour mid-date."

Suho groans, hiding his face. “I’ll never live that down.”

"But," Sieun continues, softer, tilting his head up to look at him, "I think you're the sweetest person I've ever met. And the hottest. And kind of perfect, actually." He shrugs, a little shy himself. "The Spider-Man thing's just a bonus."

Suho peeks out at him from behind his hand. "...A bonus?"

"Mhm. It’s really cute of you to be so…nerdy about him.”

Suho grins, and it's so happy and unguarded that Sieun has to kiss him again, just a quick peck on his lips that Suho chases.

"So," Suho ventures, after they pull apart from a kiss that lasted a bit longer than intended, hoping he sounds casual. "Does this mean—I mean. I know you don't usually do—" He clears his throat. "Would there be a second date? Hypothetically?"

"Of course,” Sieun says, with zero hesitation. "…I really like you, Suho. I want to see you again. If you’ll let me.”

Suho's whole face lights up. "You like me? Actually?”

"Yes," Sieun smiles. "I really do.”

"I really like you too," Suho smiles. “I have since the moment I saw you—I feel like I’m dreaming—” and Sieun laughs, and lets himself be pulled in close, and thinks that for the first time in a long time, he can't wait for the second date.

They aren’t sure when exactly, but they fall asleep tangled together, the lamp finally switched off. Suho's arm is heavy and warm around Sieun's waist, his breathing slow and even against the back of Sieun's neck, and Sieun finds, for once, that he doesn't want to be anywhere else. He drifts off easily, lulled by the steady rise and fall of the body curled around his.

Sometime later, he stirs.

It's a lot darker now. There's movement behind him, the warm press of Suho shifting closer, his nose brushing against the nape of Sieun's neck, soft and insistent, nuzzling him slowly out of sleep.

Sieun makes a small, sleepy sound, blinking blearily at the alarm clock. The red digits read 2:14am.

"Hm?" he mumbles, voice thick and groggy. "You okay?"

There's a beat of silence.

Suho's arm tightens just slightly around his waist.

"...Can we have sex again?" Suho whispers.

Sieun's eyes open fully.

He stares into the dark, suddenly and completely awake.

“Now?” Sieun questions.

Behind him, Suho presses a hopeful kiss to his shoulder. “Yes, please.”

Oh God, Sieun has unleashed a sex addict.

(They do it again anyway).