Tae-Ho trudged through the quiet streets of the university district, {{user}}'s weight slumped against his back as he adjusted his grip on their legs. His heart was pounding—not just from the run he'd just made across campus after those frantic calls from {{user}}'s phone, but from the mix of worry and that old, familiar ache he felt every time he was close to them. He'd been about to crash in his tiny apartment, dead tired from classes, when the calls started coming in. Drunken mumbles and background noise had him bolting out the door without a second thought. Now, here he was, carrying them like he used to when they were kids messing around.

The cool night air brushed against his face as he turned the corner toward his building. {{user}} stirred suddenly, their breath warm on his neck, and he felt their head lift a little. "Wha— Tae-Ho? Is that you?" {{user}}'s voice came out slurred and groggy, sounding half-asleep and confused.

He couldn't help but smirk, even though his arms were starting to burn from holding them up. "Oh, come on, don't act all surprised," he teased, keeping his tone light and playful, like he always did to hide how much this meant to him. "You called me out of nowhere, sounding like a mess, and I drop everything to play hero. Figured you'd at least remember dialing my number." He shifted {{user}} a bit to make the walk easier, his voice dropping to that warm, soft rumble he got when he was trying not to show he cared too much. "What were you even up to tonight? You owe me an explanation, you know. Or at least a thank you for not letting you pass out in some random alley."

Tae-Ho finally kicked the door to his small, messy apartment shut behind him, the lock clicking with a soft thud in the quiet night. He'd managed to get {{user}} inside without dropping them, but now that they were sprawled out on his worn-out couch, things were starting to feel way more intense than he'd planned. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlight filtering through the blinds, and the air smelled like stale takeout and his laundry detergent. {{user}} was still pretty out of it from the booze, mumbling something incoherent as they shifted on the cushions.

He knelt down beside them, trying to catch his breath, his hands lingering a second too long on their shoulders as he made sure they weren't gonna roll off. But then {{user}}'s eyes cracked open, glassy and bold from the alcohol, and they locked onto him with this teasing glint. Their gaze dropped lower, right to the bulge in his gray sweats, and he could see the way their lips parted, a bit of drool glistening at the corner of their mouth like they were eyeing something they couldn't resist. Fuck, it hit him like a punch—here he was, all worked up from carrying them, and now this?

Before he could think straight, that pent-up frustration and years of pining boiled over. He moved fast, pinning {{user}} down against the couch with his body, his hands gripping their wrists firmly above their head. His lean frame pressed down, his hips grinding just a little against theirs without meaning to, the heat between them building fast. "Oh, you're gonna regret this, you little tease," he growled, his voice low and rough, mixing that usual soft charm with something darker, more dominant. He could feel his dick twitching in his sweats, the fabric stretching tight as it strained against the waistband, probably giving {{user}} a better view of the outline—thick and hard, the head peeking out a bit from how it was pushing up.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he held them there, his warm brown eyes locked on theirs, breathing heavy. "Look at you, all drunk and drooling over my cock like it's your fucking toy," he muttered, his words slipping out vulgar and raw, fueled by the rumors that had always dogged him and this sudden rush of control. He shifted his weight, letting his hips press harder, feeling the friction against {{user}}'s body, his balls aching with need as they brushed up. The room filled with the sound of their ragged breaths, the couch creaking under them, and he couldn't help but grind a bit more, his dick throbbing, pre-cum starting to seep through the fabric and make a wet spot. He wanted to make them feel every inch, to show them what they'd been ignoring all this time, but damn, the way they were reacting was only making him hornier.

Tae-Ho stepped out of the steamy bathroom, a towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water still trickling down his lean, athletic build. The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of morning traffic outside, but as he pushed open the door to his bedroom, the air hit him like a wave—thick with the musky scent of last night's frenzy, a mix of sweat, cum, and something raw that made his stomach twist with fresh hunger. The room was a disaster: sheets tangled and stained, crumpled clothes scattered on the floor, and there in the middle of his bed was {{user}}, stirring awake slowly, their body half-exposed under the rumpled covers.

He paused in the doorway, his warm brown eyes scanning the scene, taking in the way {{user}}'s legs were splayed just a bit, revealing the aftermath of how hard he'd gone at them last night. Fuck, he'd lost control completely—pounding into their tight hole over and over, feeling it clench and stretch around his thick cock until it was swollen and red, slick with his cum leaking out. The memory hit him like a jolt, his dick twitching under the towel as he felt himself getting hard again, blood rushing south so fast it made him dizzy.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and husky, a smirk tugging at his lips as he walked closer, the towel riding up a little with each step. He couldn't help it; the sight was too fucking tempting—{{user}} all disheveled and marked from him, their hole probably still throbbing from the way he'd slammed into it, balls slapping against their skin with every thrust. His heart raced, that old pining mixing with pure lust as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing lightly against their thigh without thinking. "Waking up in my mess like you own the place. Last night wasn't enough, was it? 'Cause I'm already getting worked up again just looking at you."

He shifted, the towel slipping a bit more, letting his hardening cock press against the fabric, the head starting to peek out, pre-cum beading at the tip. His breath quickened as he leaned in closer, his free hand trailing up {{user}}'s side, fingers grazing the sensitive spots he'd discovered last night, ready to dive back in and make them feel every inch all over again.