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“No way that’s your dick.”
Sunwoo narrowly misses the lung Eric coughs out.
Doubled over in an attempt to clear his airway, beer messily drips down his chin, his neck, his chest, before disappearing under his tank, Sunwoo follows the droplets with his eyes.
The buzz underneath his skin keeps building up.
Sunwoo doesn’t pretend to lift a finger to help Eric out.However, he takes notice of the deepened flush on his cheeks due to the effort and his big watery eyes. Not a hint of resentment.
Eric can only stutter out a question, voice rough and low. Tanktop askew on his torso, sticking to his chest due to beer and his own sweat. “What?”
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Turns out, Sunwoo would, in fact, fuck Hyunjae if he was the last person in the world.
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Sunwoo doesn't think too hard when the seniors drag him to a table, not even when they tie each of his limbs to its legs.
“It’s just a game,” they say, right before slick fingers press against his hole.
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Eric drags his hand down his face. He’s down bad, it’s ridiculous. He’s been trying to will away his boner for so long, but it’s so fucking hard when Sunwoo prances around the cafe in a miniskirt and thigh highs.
It’s so good and so bad. Eric can’t make up his mind. He can’t keep his eyes away from him.
Eric gets distracted every time Sunwoo walks by. His eyes are hopelessly drawn to the way the ruffles of Sunwoo’s skirt dance on his thighs the next time he crosses the space to bring a couple of drinks.
He slaps himself when he realises what he’s doing.
Apparently, he hit himself hard enough that Sunwoo actually hears it and sends him a weird look, face still bright red.
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Summary
Sangyeon had been one of his closest friends for years. Enough for people to trust him to take care of Sunwoo —enough for the bride to ask him to look after him—, enough for Sunwoo to ask him to be his best man. He’s so responsible and reliable, that no one would think he’s been fucking Sunwoo for nearly as long as he’s known him.
