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“You look… out of it.” Keeho said, Jiung’s jaw cradled in his hands, as he inspected the new, small scratching and bruising present. Jiung’s eyes were glazed, unable to focus, clearly hazy from the fight.
Jiung chuckled lightly, “Thanks.” Keeho could tell it hurt him to laugh; he saw the way Jiung grabbed onto his chest afterwards as if there was sudden pain.
“You won,” Keeho stated.
Jiung nodded, “I look like a winner, don’t I?” he laughed, presenting those blood-stained teeth. Keeho winced at the sight, then got up from his seat to grab Jiung water. Keeho sat down and set a bag full of necessities nearby: water, ointment, and cotton swabs. Things he kept around to nurse Jiung after his fights.
Keeho twisted off the water bottle’s cap, then handed it to Jiung. “You have blood all over your teeth,” he explained. Jiung accepted the bottle, swishing around the liquid in his cheeks to flush out the blood. He swallowed, then smiled dumbly, waiting for Keeho’s approval. Keeho nodded, and Jiung handed the bottle back. Jiung was drenched in sweat, his shirt was slightly stuck to him, and multiple strands of hair had become attached to his forehead. Keeho reached out to comb back Jiung’s hair. Keeho lets his hand fall down onto Jiung’s thigh when he’s done. Jiung tiredly placed his own hand atop of Keeho’s. Keeho carefully slipped his free hand between Jiung’s skin and his shirt, removing it partially until Jiung had to take over and slip it off himself. Keeho can’t help but notice every mark and wound on Jiung’s body; he’s made a habit out of counting them all. Amongst the scuffing, Jiung’s butterfly tattoo seems to have purple wings, colored in by bruises.
“Counting again?” Jiung asked.
“Triple digits,” Keeho sighed, “I wish you didn’t get so hurt like this every time.”
Jiung looked down at his own chest, “Most of the scratches are small.” Jiung shrugged, “Doesn’t hurt too much.”
“I’m running out of room, you know?” Keeho pouted, “Maybe you should dodge more.”
Jiung rolled his eyes at that, “Yeah, cause I take the hits on purpose.” Jiung refocused, “Room for what?” Keeho grinned slyly, inching closer. Jiung pulled back slightly, placing a hand on Keeho’s own chest, repeating, “Room for what?” Jiung’s tone sounded almost instructional. Keeho placed his hand on top of Jiung’s, slowly moving it back down to lie dormant on the couch. Jiung blinked slowly as he watched the action. Keeho kept his own hand on top of Jiung’s, now placed beside the two of them. Jiung’s gaze is that of a man who’s not all the way there.
“There’s barely any empty spots,” Keeho’s finger grazed over all the different pinpoints of unmarked skin on Jiung, from his chest to his neck, pointing every vacancy out carefully. Jiung stiffened slightly at the action.
“Your skin is cold,” Jiung muttered mindlessly.
“Is it?” Keeho asked. Jiung nodded. “That’s good, maybe I can cool you down. You’re still sweating.” Keeho gripped a tad tighter onto Jiung’s hand.
“I feel so hot,” Jiung complained. Keeho placed his free hand on Jiung’s forehead, then his cheek, which is where he stops for a moment.
Keeho squeezed the cup of Jiung’s face slightly, “How does one person sweat so much?” Jiung smiled dumbly into Keeho’s touch. Keeho grabbed Jiung’s discarded shirt nearby and used it to wipe away some of Jiung’s sweat from his face and body. Keeho tossed back to the side once he was done.
“Do I smell bad?” Jiung questioned.
“Well, you don’t smell good,” Keeho answered honestly. He then added, “But I have gotten used to it.”
“I don’t want to shower,” Jiung whined.
Keeho laughed a little at that, “I didn’t say you had to.”
Jiung pouted a bit, “But you said I smelled bad.”
“Should I have lied to you?” Keeho sighed, “Just shower in the morning. Or you can… shower with me?” Keeho teased. Jiung scoffed and shook his head. “Joking,” Keeho clarified. Keeho grabbed the water bottle close by and handed it to Jiung, “Here, drink.” Jiung accepted the bottle without a word; he essentially chugged the whole bottle in only a few moments. He handed Keeho the empty bottle, which Keeho just set off to the side.
“Thanks,” Jiung managed, panting ever so slightly from how fast he drank.
“Sure,” Keeho nodded. Keeho watched the breathing of Jiung’s chest decrease in speed in real time. Rising fast, then falling slow, then rising slow, and falling fast. It was a sequence. “Let me see your back,” Keeho requested. Jiung turned to face the wall absentmindedly, having to remove his hand from under Keeho’s during the process. There are fewer marks here, in fact, close to none. Keeho massaged Jiung as carefully as possible, making sure to be especially light in certain areas. Like it was the bullseye of a target, Keeho’s arrow eyes shot to Jiung’s back tattoo. His hand trailed over its surface, sketching around the edges until the picture was complete. Jiung gave a content hum in acknowledgment of the action.
“What’s the count?” Jiung asked.
“There’s only two back here,” Keeho informed, “Your neck is bare,” He added as a hand traveled up to tap Jiung’s neck gently. Keeho’s hand, which was previously placed on Jiung’s neck, fell down a tad to wrap around Jiung enough to reach his collarbone from behind his back. Keeho placed himself between the crook of Jiung’s neck like a vampire, and even further in similarity he latched himself onto Jiung’s skin and sucked desperately. Jiung was quiet for the most part, aside from his initial gasp of shock as a result of feeling Keeho’s mouth on his neck. Physically, Jiung responded by grabbing onto Keeho’s hand. Keeho stayed idly sucking for perhaps a bit longer than needed, making sure that the hickey would manifest. Once entirely confident, Keeho popped off, the sound of separating skin on skin followed. Keeho analyzed the certainly dark mark left as a result of his efforts, which was conveniently illuminated by the shine of his own saliva.
“I can feel your spit drying on me,” Jiung said. Keeho snickered at that. Keeho retracted his hand from Jiung. Jiung shuffled on the couch to face Keeho again. Keeho followed the natural flow of things and leaned in immediately. Jiung giggled dumbly at Keeho’s excitement. Keeho’s lips are so much bigger than Jiung’s; anytime they kissed, it felt like he was enveloping Jiung entirely, which is something Keeho actually liked a lot. Keeho’s thoughtless consumption is interrupted when Jiung bites down on Keeho’s lower lip. Definitely not enough to hurt or draw blood, but it is enough to surprise Keeho quite a bit. Keeho pulled away subconsciously; his hand flew up to feel his lip and confirm there was no damage. Jiung laughed evilly, cackled even. Keeho pouted and shook his head. “You bit me too,” Jiung shrugged, unapologetic.