[This again. His voice doesn't sound like it did before - pithy, a little pitiable, evasive and meant to create guilt. Choi tilts his head back at first, then moves closer instead, nuzzling his cheek against the side of Soleum's head as he smiles.]
I wouldn't lead you down the wrong path.
[He doesn't know how to guide toward a goal like the one he's expressed because it's not one he thinks Soleum is serious about. There's something deeper he's after, and he doesn't know what it is yet, but would acquiescing right now get him to whatever it is? Would it risk Choi's wellbeing to allow him there? He doesn't know. So much about their work is dealing with the unknown and balancing it carefully against a gut feeling.]
[Right now, his gut is screaming that he wants to kiss Kim Soleum until he's drooling his own spit and can no longer ask any stupid questions.]
["Are you positive you weren't contaminated earlier?" he had asked him. Choi had considered giving a smarmy sort of reply - Yeah, probably since the moment we met.]
You're not going to fall, Soleum.
[And, greedily, he tries to start kissing his way back down, searching for an opening of skin to lead him back to his lips.]
Soleum's buried face rolls on its side, meeting his mouth as soon as he ducks in — this time, he surges at him with a hint of added eagerness to match the agent's own. Kissing him harder, graver, his desperation showing through like a lamplight, guiding him. Or like there's a ticker hidden somewhere inside his head, in his heart, maybe in the compartment of his tattoo, either way it'll blow when it'll blow, so they better get their last rites in now.
Still straddling him, still running his tongue inside his cheeks, Soleum hoists up onto his knees, the front of their belts buckle to buckle. You're not going to fall, he said, but it feels that way. Freefall. His ears are ringing, the back of his neck is sweating, there are lights dancing in his eyes — the symptoms his body exhibits when he's trapped in a darkness. When he's tired of it all. When he's scared. He doesn't have a parachute, but he has Agent Choi, right here, right now, for a small footnote of his story; he does what anyone would do in this situation, when you want someone. Seizing either side of his senior's face, Soleum bows him backward, forcing them both to collapse back into the frayed couch cushions. There isn't a world where he could seriously dream of overpowering him, so he expects some indulgence, a little cooperation on his end.
This sort of thing, a nasty romp between coworkers, it's what Agent Choi wanted from the beginning, wasn't it?
Remembering how keenly Agent Choi seemed to want to get under his collar, or perhaps he was only looking to get under his skin, his fingers tuck into the knot of his tie. He pulls, and the outer neck of it shortly unravels along with the rest. Then part of his shirt comes undone. Well, only about halfway, however, until his embarrassment catches up to him again, but it's enough to reveal a lithe strip of his chest, red splotched across his otherwise pale flesh. ]
Ah, um — sir. [ His cheek turns, breaking the kiss. ] Is this what you were trying to get to before?
[Finally, finally! he wants to yell. Finally he's getting exactly what he's been after. It's like seeing the escape route open, the door swing wide, the sight of freedom mere steps away and nothing is chasing you. Choi hums happily as Soleum meets his enthusiasm and eagerly tilts back to kiss him when he rises up.]
[Until he's lowered down, which he doesn't fight, either. His hands wrap around his back instead and roll their way up and down his spine, tracing over his white shirt as he tilts his head to wrap his tongue around his. Soleum is moving above him and he assumes with excitement that he's going to take off his shirt or something and even reaches toward the hem to help with it when he suddenly pulls back, showing his cheek which Choi continues kissing without stopping, even as he speaks.]
[...What? What was he trying to get to? Kissing his junior? His eyes travel down toward the revealed skin of his throat - and Choi's eyes widen in unconcealed delight.]
[He doesn't give him a verbal answer aside from a pleased hum as he leans upward. He sinks into his throat, kissing open, sloppy presses against his neck and down to his chest and all the while his hands start to move to wrap around to his front. He needs to get the rest of his shirt off. Actually, if he doesn't, he'll end up ripping the fabric and he's sure Soleum will be upset and break all this perfect enthusiasm despite all of them having spare uniforms, okay? Can't he be a little enthusiastic without worrying about decorum?]
Mm, Soleum - [He starts at the buttons. He nibbles gently on his skin then kisses the same spot. Not nearly hard or sharp enough to leave any lasting mark, but this is something Choi has heard of and is well acquainted with called cuteness aggression, he thinks. How badly he wants to wrap his arms around him and squeeze, chew, and bite from face to fingers. Ugh, his junior is just so cute.] That's good, right?
[ Puffs of heated air stagger past Soleum's lips like the smoking habit's caught up to him already, and he's just reaping what he sows as Agent Choi sucks, scrapes, mouths wherever he pleases. It doesn't matter how his kisses connect, the sensation drops straight to a deeper, giddier place within.
It's funny, the most he's seen him so excited has been during team dinners or when he's talking about sports betting with some of the other agents. Never quite like this, though. This, it's a lot more attention from him than he knows what to do with. But he is enjoying it, mainly because it seems to be something Agent Choi is taking full pleasure in himself. Makes him preen and grin and laugh like a teenager doing it all for the first time — if it weren't for how deftly he works at each button, how his movements never hitch or hesitate, he might have even believed that to be the case.
With a shiver, Soleum's hand smooths down the agent's side, pressing to his rib cage without really pushing or gripping him hard at all, the presence there to remind him to slow, slow it down, except perhaps the ask comes too late. ]
…Yes. [ His assent, too, comes late, waiting for the pair of footsteps in the outer hallway to finish walking past their room before he continues, his volume dropped to a hushed: ] Good. You're doing good, sir. We should probably lock the door.
[ But he doesn't get up.
When his shirt splits apart, fully opened now, his stomach pinches, as if flinching inward to avoid Agent Choi's roving gaze, face hunched down. Attempting to busy himself, a soft rustle of fabric comes from where Soleum's hands have moved to his senior's waistline; part of his shirt hem is half-pulled, anyway, so the rest comes undone easily. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before sliding the the crumpled end of his dress shirt, plus the dark undershirt beneath, up the scarred sculpt of his navel. ]
[He absolutely does not care about the door right now. No one is going to come in here since it's right at the time everyone would be going home - The night shift will take emergency calls and the departing staff will drop all notices in the mailboxes outside the door. This is what Choi tells himself as he stares openly at Soleum's exposed body when all the buttons are split apart.]
[It's probably indecent to be this captivated by the appearance of your hubae's bare chest, skinny and accented with the starts of muscle. His stomach that dips inward as if avoiding a knife. Choi wonders at it, licking his lips briefly. If he could pull him upward further and tug him all the way over his face, if he could explore every inch of his skin and figure out the exact spot that makes him wrench in pleasure, what would make him keen and whimper - But his hubae is just as busy, it seems, his hands anxiously fighting to undo his shirt, pressing it up and revealing his own stomach in turn. This one doesn't bow away.]
Ah - Yeah. Of course. [It's odd to be asked permission. Didn't he just take and take a moment ago, charting a ravenous course and planting his flag wherever he pleased on Soleum...? Choi shifts a little to allow his shirt up further and slides a hand up his own chest, grinning as it exposes more skin.] You can touch me wherever you like, hubae-nim. Wherever.
[He brushes Soleum's cheek with his other hand, rubbing a thumb over his cheeks as he comes to better see the face before him. He's not used to it - Soleum without those glasses, plain-faced, a little mussed up. He runs his fingers through his hair as if to neaten it but it sends static through the strands instead, making them float briefly as he passes through.]
I want to see you really greedy, too, okay? [And he smiles a little wider.] Show me.
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no subject
I wouldn't lead you down the wrong path.
[He doesn't know how to guide toward a goal like the one he's expressed because it's not one he thinks Soleum is serious about. There's something deeper he's after, and he doesn't know what it is yet, but would acquiescing right now get him to whatever it is? Would it risk Choi's wellbeing to allow him there? He doesn't know. So much about their work is dealing with the unknown and balancing it carefully against a gut feeling.]
[Right now, his gut is screaming that he wants to kiss Kim Soleum until he's drooling his own spit and can no longer ask any stupid questions.]
["Are you positive you weren't contaminated earlier?" he had asked him. Choi had considered giving a smarmy sort of reply - Yeah, probably since the moment we met.]
You're not going to fall, Soleum.
[And, greedily, he tries to start kissing his way back down, searching for an opening of skin to lead him back to his lips.]
no subject
Soleum's buried face rolls on its side, meeting his mouth as soon as he ducks in — this time, he surges at him with a hint of added eagerness to match the agent's own. Kissing him harder, graver, his desperation showing through like a lamplight, guiding him. Or like there's a ticker hidden somewhere inside his head, in his heart, maybe in the compartment of his tattoo, either way it'll blow when it'll blow, so they better get their last rites in now.
Still straddling him, still running his tongue inside his cheeks, Soleum hoists up onto his knees, the front of their belts buckle to buckle. You're not going to fall, he said, but it feels that way. Freefall. His ears are ringing, the back of his neck is sweating, there are lights dancing in his eyes — the symptoms his body exhibits when he's trapped in a darkness. When he's tired of it all. When he's scared. He doesn't have a parachute, but he has Agent Choi, right here, right now, for a small footnote of his story; he does what anyone would do in this situation, when you want someone. Seizing either side of his senior's face, Soleum bows him backward, forcing them both to collapse back into the frayed couch cushions. There isn't a world where he could seriously dream of overpowering him, so he expects some indulgence, a little cooperation on his end.
This sort of thing, a nasty romp between coworkers, it's what Agent Choi wanted from the beginning, wasn't it?
Remembering how keenly Agent Choi seemed to want to get under his collar, or perhaps he was only looking to get under his skin, his fingers tuck into the knot of his tie. He pulls, and the outer neck of it shortly unravels along with the rest. Then part of his shirt comes undone. Well, only about halfway, however, until his embarrassment catches up to him again, but it's enough to reveal a lithe strip of his chest, red splotched across his otherwise pale flesh. ]
Ah, um — sir. [ His cheek turns, breaking the kiss. ] Is this what you were trying to get to before?
no subject
[Until he's lowered down, which he doesn't fight, either. His hands wrap around his back instead and roll their way up and down his spine, tracing over his white shirt as he tilts his head to wrap his tongue around his. Soleum is moving above him and he assumes with excitement that he's going to take off his shirt or something and even reaches toward the hem to help with it when he suddenly pulls back, showing his cheek which Choi continues kissing without stopping, even as he speaks.]
[...What? What was he trying to get to? Kissing his junior? His eyes travel down toward the revealed skin of his throat - and Choi's eyes widen in unconcealed delight.]
[He doesn't give him a verbal answer aside from a pleased hum as he leans upward. He sinks into his throat, kissing open, sloppy presses against his neck and down to his chest and all the while his hands start to move to wrap around to his front. He needs to get the rest of his shirt off. Actually, if he doesn't, he'll end up ripping the fabric and he's sure Soleum will be upset and break all this perfect enthusiasm despite all of them having spare uniforms, okay? Can't he be a little enthusiastic without worrying about decorum?]
Mm, Soleum - [He starts at the buttons. He nibbles gently on his skin then kisses the same spot. Not nearly hard or sharp enough to leave any lasting mark, but this is something Choi has heard of and is well acquainted with called cuteness aggression, he thinks. How badly he wants to wrap his arms around him and squeeze, chew, and bite from face to fingers. Ugh, his junior is just so cute.] That's good, right?
no subject
It's funny, the most he's seen him so excited has been during team dinners or when he's talking about sports betting with some of the other agents. Never quite like this, though. This, it's a lot more attention from him than he knows what to do with. But he is enjoying it, mainly because it seems to be something Agent Choi is taking full pleasure in himself. Makes him preen and grin and laugh like a teenager doing it all for the first time — if it weren't for how deftly he works at each button, how his movements never hitch or hesitate, he might have even believed that to be the case.
With a shiver, Soleum's hand smooths down the agent's side, pressing to his rib cage without really pushing or gripping him hard at all, the presence there to remind him to slow, slow it down, except perhaps the ask comes too late. ]
…Yes. [ His assent, too, comes late, waiting for the pair of footsteps in the outer hallway to finish walking past their room before he continues, his volume dropped to a hushed: ] Good. You're doing good, sir. We should probably lock the door.
[ But he doesn't get up.
When his shirt splits apart, fully opened now, his stomach pinches, as if flinching inward to avoid Agent Choi's roving gaze, face hunched down. Attempting to busy himself, a soft rustle of fabric comes from where Soleum's hands have moved to his senior's waistline; part of his shirt hem is half-pulled, anyway, so the rest comes undone easily. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before sliding the the crumpled end of his dress shirt, plus the dark undershirt beneath, up the scarred sculpt of his navel. ]
Can I, ah… touch you here?
no subject
[It's probably indecent to be this captivated by the appearance of your hubae's bare chest, skinny and accented with the starts of muscle. His stomach that dips inward as if avoiding a knife. Choi wonders at it, licking his lips briefly. If he could pull him upward further and tug him all the way over his face, if he could explore every inch of his skin and figure out the exact spot that makes him wrench in pleasure, what would make him keen and whimper - But his hubae is just as busy, it seems, his hands anxiously fighting to undo his shirt, pressing it up and revealing his own stomach in turn. This one doesn't bow away.]
Ah - Yeah. Of course. [It's odd to be asked permission. Didn't he just take and take a moment ago, charting a ravenous course and planting his flag wherever he pleased on Soleum...? Choi shifts a little to allow his shirt up further and slides a hand up his own chest, grinning as it exposes more skin.] You can touch me wherever you like, hubae-nim. Wherever.
[He brushes Soleum's cheek with his other hand, rubbing a thumb over his cheeks as he comes to better see the face before him. He's not used to it - Soleum without those glasses, plain-faced, a little mussed up. He runs his fingers through his hair as if to neaten it but it sends static through the strands instead, making them float briefly as he passes through.]
I want to see you really greedy, too, okay? [And he smiles a little wider.] Show me.