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Summary
"You're so loose," Bang-won teases, one hand hooked under Hwi's knee and the other busy playing with the wreck he's made of him. "I could fit my whole hand inside if I wanted to."
Hwi watches him with sleepy eyes, his hair sweat-drenched and unbound. The cushion beside his head is damp with spit. He'd pressed his face into it earlier, muffling his cries, still unwilling to let the others hear what he gives Bang-won. "Why don't you?" he says, idly stroking his soft cock with his thumb.