Page 55 of Hamartia

He’s panting now, his mouth a wet kissable thing, and it sends my mind somewhere else. As soon as the thought enters my head, I think I might come from the idea of it. From the idea thathemight come from it. From the sounds he might make and the way his body might move against my tongue. I lean up to kiss him once more, then nudge him gently off my lap.

“Turn around,” I say, my voice hoarse.

He blinks once, slowly, then he’s moving up onto his knees facing the view and I’m looking at the elegant arch of his spine that leads down to his perfect ass. An ass that’s pink and hot and dripping from the heat of the bath. I turn my body and smooth my hand across both cheeks before sliding my index finger between them.

Jae shudders, a small noise escaping him.

“Spread your legs a little for me,” I ask, and he does. It sends a jolt of lust roaring through me. Him obeying me like this.

Because I like the feeling too much to let go of it, I try another. My finger between his cheeks I press it gently before saying: “Show me it.”

My voice doesn’t even sound like my own, and I’m not sure he even hears me because he does nothing right away. But then he’s reaching back and spreading himself with both hands to show me his perfect pink hole.

I wasn’t aware I could get any harder, but the sight of it, and the thought of all the things I want to do to it, things that had never entered my mind in all the years I’ve been aware of sex, makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. I glide my finger over it first and he shudders again, a deep body tremble that causes the water to ripple and his legs to shift. Then I circle it with my finger, like I saw him do earlier, pressing the pad of it flat against it the puckered skin and moving it in gentle circular motions.

Jae edges forward over the tub which makes his grip a little awkward. He lets go of his ass and settles himself on his stomach across the ledge before moving again to hold himself open for me. My finger looks big and tanned against the smooth pink-white of his ass. It’s dangerously hot.

“Fuck, Jaehyun, you’re really fucking pretty here,” I say in wonder, moving my finger again. Round and round,tap tap tap.

He lets out a soft whimper and pleads, “Raphael, please….”

He hangs his head between his shoulders. I know what I want to do. Well, rather, I have a list of things I want to do, but there’s a want that’s louder than all the rest. It’s the reason I wanted him in this position to begin with and suddenly I don’t know why I’m not already doing it. I lean in and kiss his fingers first, then cover them with my own as I nose between his cheeks and replace my finger with my tongue to lick over his hole. It’s clumsy and without finesse, but his reaction is still instant, visceral. He gasps in Korean and arches his back, pushing his ass into my face.

“English, Jae, I want to hear it in English,” I say.

He laughs a little but then he’s back to whimpering and panting, thrusting back as I curl my tongue and try to push it inside him. He’s warm and wet and so fucking tight that I can barely get past the rim, but he’s not complaining. I start to fuck him a little with it and his legs wobble again, his body slipping so that he has to hold himself up. I wrap an arm around his waist, between his body and the bath, and it helps me pull him closer and it also helps him, cause now his hand is free to hold his dick.

“That feels so good, please, Raphael, yes, please,” he’s saying now—in English—and my dick almost explodes from the need in his voice.

I go back to kissing it, sucking on it, listening to the noises he makes, how his body reacts. Focusing on what makes him let out those particular little whines and groans that sound so fucking good to my ears, and doing it again. He’s fisting his cock, but the angle is awkward for him and so with my free hand I take over, lowering my mouth to lick the length of his cock from behind, all the way back up to his hole.

When I feel him go boneless in my arms I take it as a good sign, so I repeat that, sucking his cock into my mouth this time and swirling my tongue around the tip. His precome is sweet and savory at the same time and when I dip my tongue into the slit to taste it, more bursts across my tongue.

I really want to fist my own cock now, because it’s starting to throb, dangerously, my balls tight and verging on painful, but I want to make him come first. He’s close, I just need the right combination of chords. I let his cock slip from my mouth and take it in my hand as I circle his hole with my tongue again, gathering the saliva on my tongue to make the slide in easier. He’s thrashing a little in my arms now, body pulled taught and on the edge.

“I am…I am going to come, Raphael, please do not stop.”

He’s pleading now, thrusting into my mouth and then my hand, back arched like a cat.

I time a particularly deep thrust of my tongue along with a gentle twist of my wrist and then he’s coming. Hard. His hole clenches, actually clenches around my tongue, and I feel him spurt into my hand, thick and burning hot.

When he’s done, I gently slide my hand out from under him and sit back against the side of the tub, watching as he tries to catch his breath. He’s still folded over the edge trembling a little, his cock hanging between his legs, spent and softening. I wonder what it would feel like in my mouth like that but I’m sitting too far away, out of the water on the edge of the tub now as I fuck my fist with everything I have. I drag my eyes over his arched back and narrow hips, that perfect ass and pretty cock, and let out a low moan.

Soon enough he’s turning round to watch me with fucked-out eyes and a mouth that he’s bitten raw. He rests back on his arms, the New York sky glittering behind him as he licks his lips and eyes my cock. He makes no move to come forward, to help me out, content to just watch.

It’s hot, having his eyes on me while I do this. My orgasm when it hits tears through my body like a hurricane, turning me inside out. My chest tightens, my vision turns white, and my heart seems to stop. I feel wrecked.

While I try to catch my breath, Jae stands, reaching out to run his hand gently through my hair. Something soft pulls at me and I sit up, wrapping my arms around his middle and resting my head against his stomach. When he starts to smooth his hand over my head, I get the weirdest urge to cry. It’s not melancholia. It’s more like euphoria. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this way before and certainly not after just having an orgasm. I feel it in my throat and in my chest, the weight of tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Dangsin-eun na-ege neomu keun sangcheoleul jul geos-ibnida. an geulae?” Jae whispers.

I want to ask him what it means, but I’m scared of how weak my voice will sound, so I say nothing and just hold him while he strokes his hand through my hair.

Ican’t stop staring at him. Watching the slow up and down of his body as he sleeps.

I’d fucked and eaten him out last night and I want to do both again now.

After we’d dried off and brushed our teeth, he’d put on a pair of shorts to sleep in. Black cut–off sweatpants that dwarf him. Is that how he’d look in my clothes? He’s a good few inches shorter than me, and leaner. Narrow waist and compact frame where I’m broad shouldered and a bit more muscular. Not that I worked out, not really, and certainly not often. Jae’s muscles were less obvious; tight abs and slightly raised pectorals, hard thighs, and shapely calves. He was fit but he was delicate too. A physical duality that was hard to wrap your head around. The way he dressed made it more confusing. He wore perfectly tailored designer suits or oversized hoodies and sweats with t-shirts that were two sizes too big, or tight jeans and elegant cashmere sweaters that looked like they had been knitted onto his body they fit so well.