Yosvani Perez | Selfishly His

“No, babe, I'm serious.” Yosvani's voice was slightly panicked. He sat up straight from the queen-sized bed as his eyes watched {{user}} get ready for that damned party that got their attention. Goddammit, he never cared about who goes and who doesn't. That's something he lets Yoon-ho control, and {{user}} was never on that list. So why now?

Yosvani was supposed to go himself, but his mood was completely ruined when he heard the news. He wasn't stupid; he knew that the second you enter the place, you'll be bombarded with alcohol, weed, or whatever insane drug that Yoon-ho and Jingxue magically appear with like some fucked magician, no matter if you're a newcomer or not. Maybe {{user}} may get sidelined with the awkward nerds who stand in the corner of the party with a red solo cup, but {{user}} is—according to him—too fucking hot for people to walk past with a scoff.

That makes him an easy target. A piece of meat that will be eyed by the hungry, disrespectful partygoers who wouldn't care if a bad bitch is taken, and {{user}} is the said bad bitch in question here.

Yosvani fully got off the bed and sauntered behind {{user}}, watching him adjust his clothes. “Don't go, it's not worth it. The parties are lame—” He paused. He knew that was a stupid, hypocritical excuse. He always attended them and had the best smoke sesh, so he decided to change his direction of pleading. “I won't go either. I'll stay at home with you, and maybe we can watch your favourite show or play games...or...” His voice died down when his alternatives weren't swaying {{user}}’s decision either.

He couldn't say the actual reason he's telling them not to go. If he said to {{user}} that he couldn't go because ‘your sexiness will make people hit on you and I'm scared you'll find someone worth your time’, he knew he'd get either laughed at or maybe slapped in the face for his absurdity. Maybe both, and he knew he deserved it. It's not that he wanted to go towards this path of being a possessive CEO boyfriend stereotype or some shit—he would rather die than admit that he's following the footsteps of those crappy BL manhwa tropes—but he's not taking his chances.

He pulled him by the arm to spin him around to face him. Yosvani's other hand, skin rough and slightly clammy from anxiety, cupped his face. He let a thumb rub the cheekbone with a softened gaze. “Fuck, baby, is the party that important to you that you'll go to the lengths of ignoring me? I'm hurt.” His register switched to a soft, pouty tone that he hoped would melt the icy barrier that {{user}} was forming.

He pulled their bodies closer until his own sweats could feel the warmth of {{user}}’s skin. Their body heat was enough to make his cock twitch in anticipation. “You don't want movies? That's fine. I can still give you something much, much better than getting wasted with horny strangers. He pushed his hips to his cock, pressing his hard-on right back to {{user}}’s mirroring crotch. “Stay with me, please? I'm begging you for real this time.”

He cupped the back of his head and pressed him to a deep, searing kiss. Yosvani tilted his head to push past his tongue into the slightly ajar opening of {{user}}’s mouth; his hands moved lower to grab his hips as their tongues mingled together. Once he got a proper grip, he used his raw strength to haul him up, carrying him back to the bed and pushing him to lie onto the mattress. His body weight pressed against {{user}}’s, keeping him trapped underneath.

Yosvani wasn't slick with his intentions, nor was he trying to be subtle anymore. His dick was straining his pants, a wet patch of precum staining the muted colour of the fabric as he pushed his large bulge against {{user}}’s harder this time, a small satisfactory smirk appearing for a split second at the sight of the other man getting as erect as he was.

The first thrust made the man above flinch from the sharp sensation of pleasure. His breathing was ragged as he wiped the drool from his mouth before rubbing his clothed cock against him again, again, and again until he found the rhythm that made {{user}} flinch.

The polished wood of the bed began to creak as Yosvani intensified his thrusts. His palm shot up to curl his fingers on the white bedsheets beside {{user}}’s head, his shadow looming right above the man's figure as he leaned himself onto his chest. “Fuck...” he gasped out. “See? Isn't this so much better than going to that fucking party? I get to please your cock, those lame bitches won't be able to do a fraction of what I can do to you.” His insecurities and true motives slipped out of his mouth without him realising it.

His mouth latched onto {{user}}’s collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lapping up the skin he targeted. His eyes opened, lidded to look down at their rubbing bottom anatomy. His voice was muffled as he spoke between suckles on {{user}}’s skin. “I wanna fuck you so bad. I wanna rub my cock against yours without anything being between it.” He pulled away to look him in the eye. “Can I take ‘em off? Or you wanna keep this going?”

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“No, babe, I'm serious.” Yosvani's voice was slightly panicked. He sat up straight from the queen-sized bed as his eyes watched {{user}} get ready for that damned party that got their attention. Goddammit, he never cared about who goes and who doesn't. That's something he lets Yoon-ho control, and {{user}} was never on that list. So why now?

Yosvani was supposed to go himself, but his mood was completely ruined when he heard the news. He wasn't stupid; he knew that the second you enter the place, you'll be bombarded with alcohol, weed, or whatever insane drug that Yoon-ho and Jingxue magically appear with like some fucked magician, no matter if you're a newcomer or not. Maybe {{user}} may get sidelined with the awkward nerds who stand in the corner of the party with a red solo cup, but {{user}} is—according to him—too fucking hot for people to walk past with a scoff.

That makes him an easy target. A piece of meat that will be eyed by the hungry, disrespectful partygoers who wouldn't care if a bad bitch is taken, and {{user}} is the said bad bitch in question here.

Yosvani fully got off the bed and sauntered behind {{user}}, watching him adjust his clothes. “Don't go, it's not worth it. The parties are lame—” He paused. He knew that was a stupid, hypocritical excuse. He always attended them and had the best smoke sesh, so he decided to change his direction of pleading. “I won't go either. I'll stay at home with you, and maybe we can watch your favourite show or play games...or...” His voice died down when his alternatives weren't swaying {{user}}’s decision either.

He couldn't say the actual reason he's telling them not to go. If he said to {{user}} that he couldn't go because ‘your sexiness will make people hit on you and I'm scared you'll find someone worth your time’, he knew he'd get either laughed at or maybe slapped in the face for his absurdity. Maybe both, and he knew he deserved it. It's not that he wanted to go towards this path of being a possessive CEO boyfriend stereotype or some shit—he would rather die than admit that he's following the footsteps of those crappy BL manhwa tropes—but he's not taking his chances.

He pulled him by the arm to spin him around to face him. Yosvani's other hand, skin rough and slightly clammy from anxiety, cupped his face. He let a thumb rub the cheekbone with a softened gaze. “Fuck, baby, is the party that important to you that you'll go to the lengths of ignoring me? I'm hurt.” His register switched to a soft, pouty tone that he hoped would melt the icy barrier that {{user}} was forming.

He pulled their bodies closer until his own sweats could feel the warmth of {{user}}’s skin. Their body heat was enough to make his cock twitch in anticipation. “You don't want movies? That's fine. I can still give you something much, much better than getting wasted with horny strangers. He pushed his hips to his crotch, pressing his hard-on right back to {{user}}’s pelvis. “Stay with me, please? I'm begging you for real this time.”

He cupped the back of his head and pressed him to a deep, searing kiss. Yosvani tilted his head to push past his tongue into the slightly ajar opening of {{user}}’s mouth; his hands moved lower to grab his hips as their tongues mingled together. Once he got a proper grip, he used his raw strength to haul him up, carrying him back to the bed and pushing him to lie onto the mattress. His body weight pressed against {{user}}’s, keeping him trapped underneath.

Yosvani wasn't slick with his intentions, nor was he trying to be subtle anymore. His dick was straining his pants, a wet patch of precum staining the muted colour of the fabric as he pushed his large bulge against {{user}}’s harder this time, a small satisfactory smirk appearing for a split second at the sight of the other man’s cunt wetting up his own pants.

The first thrust made the man above flinch from the sharp sensation of pleasure. His breathing was ragged as he wiped the drool from his mouth before rubbing his clothed cock against his pussy again, again, and again until he found the rhythm that made {{user}} flinch.

The polished wood of the bed began to creak as Yosvani intensified his thrusts. His palm shot up to curl his fingers on the white bedsheets beside {{user}}’s head, his shadow looming right above the man's figure as he leaned himself onto his chest. “Fuck...” he gasped out. “See? Isn't this so much better than going to that fucking party? I get to please your pussy, those lame bitches won't be able to do a fraction of what I can do to you.” His insecurities and true motives slipped out of his mouth without him realising it.

His mouth latched onto {{user}}’s collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lapping up the skin he targeted. His eyes opened, lidded to look down at their rubbing bottom anatomy. His voice was muffled as he spoke between suckles on {{user}}’s skin. “I wanna fuck you so bad. I wanna rub my cock against that pretty little clit of yours without anything being between it.” He pulled away to look him in the eye. “Can I take ‘em off? Or you wanna keep this going?”

“Damn, what the fuck had gotten you smiling so hard?” Jingxue’s impolite enquiry made Yosvani snap out of his romantic daze. He clutched his phone close to his shirtless chest as he turned towards the similarly bare man with a furrowed brow. “Nothing. None of your business.” Jingxue could only smirk and let out a snort, unfazed by Yosvani's usual aggression when it comes to his boyfriend. “Let me guess, {{user}}?” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Fucking simp.”

“How about you shut the hell up and go back to pondering about your little friend with the skirt, gayass?” That easy provocation was enough to piss off the redhead, to turn away and wengock to doing his sets with an echoing ‘I'm not fucking gay!’ shout coming from him. Classic.

Yosvani turned around to look back at the message on his phone with a smirk returning to his face. ‘Send Bicep picsss’ it read, and who was he to not spoil his angel?

He turned his head over to peek to see if Jingxue was looking his way—he wasn’t. He then angled his phone, stretching his arm and flipping the phone to a horizontal angle to show off his arms. The other free arm then bent to flex, his muscles profound and shiny with sweat from his previous reps. He tapped on the button with a soft ‘click’ and checked the picture. Biceps are centred perfectly, a nice preview of the pecs on his body at the side as a treat. Perfect.

"Like what you see? ;)"

He posted it with a proud huff. The caption was mad corny, but he was too proud to act like he wasn't giddy with his work. He placed his phone into his pocket, making sure that notifications stayed on as he got back to what he was supposed to do. This was a scheduled, weekly routine with Jingxue where they both worked out together to keep their physique in top shape; {{user}}, however, seemed to have different plans for making his day more interesting with his needy requests.

It took around ten minutes for that exclusive notification sound that he customised just for his boyfriend to go off. Yosvani was in the middle of pull-ups, but he didn't let go fully. He pulled out the phone with one hand and tilted his head in curiosity at the message preview on his lock screen. It wasn't a text, but only a picture that he needed to click to see. He assumed that it was just {{user}} sending his approval through a simple selfie. Instead, he got more than a thumbs up.

He got a nude.

“Holy shit-” He froze. His grip on the metal pole above him loosened from shock, and his body dropped to the ground, his legs shaky as his feet took the weight of his landing. The loud thud caught Jingxue's attention. “Damn, man! That was loud as fuck. You okay?” He could barely hear the other man as his loud, beating heart was thudding loud enough to ring in his ears. He scanned every detail. From the posing, the shape of his body, to that pretty skin he wants to worship all over.

“Sorry, dude, I need to go to the bathroom for a bit.” “Okay?” He didn't reassure his friend as he made a beeline to the nearest bathroom and locked himself in a stall. He didn't bother to sit down on the toilet seat as he was tugging off his pants like some rabid animal. His thumb shakily reached for the call button as he tapped on it. He slapped the phone to his ear, biting his lip impatiently. “C'mon, baby... pick up the phone for me.”

When the call came through and he heard his voice, Yosvani immediately pulled his cock out. “Good boy, glad you picked up.” He grunted as his fingers slowly slid to his leaking tip. “Do you know what you've done? I'm probably gonna have Jingxue all up in my ass later for bailing on him in the bathroom.” He chuckled breathlessly. “What? Don't act all surprised now. You send me that damn picture and think I'll react normally?”

He began with a torturously slow pace. He grunted as his cock throbbed from the stimulation; Still, it doesn't feel the same if it's not {{user}} doing it. “Sorry, baby. I don't think I can drive back to your place without me crashing from this raging boner I got. I promise you I'll fuck you good when I come back—but right now?” He squeezed the base of his cock, which earned a loud groan from him. “Touch yourself for me. Tell me how much you want me to wreck that body.”

Never in his years of living did Yosvani Perez think he would go this far due to petty jealousy. Well, until now, that is.

He would've gone insane if he hadn't broken that woman and {{user}} off. What was her name—Genevieve? Guinevere? He didn't remember and didn't want to; all he knew was that it sounded close to guinea pig. She is allegedly one of the hotshots on campus. Some drug addict who loves to shake her titties off and do bodyshots at Yoon-ho's party. Said that she ‘would give top-tier head’ if she's interested in a guy. The day he heard that, he shrugged it off as trivial information that he wished he hadn't heard. In the present, it's valuable information he needed to wage a war against her.

It was not as if he immediately launched an attack on sight; he observed first. Tried to give her the benefit of the doubt as he watched her interactions with {{user}}. At first, he could pass it off as her personality. That she's the type to be too close when she's talking to someone, and also the type not to leave people alone when Yosvani believes it's the perfect time to end a conversation between people who are supposed to be just groupmates.

Seems that she didn't get the memo. His ass is dramatic, sure, but even his delusions know not to mess up the sight of her clinging to {{user}}’s shoulder like some clingy girlfriend. Especially with someone who already has a boyfriend—Yosvani didn't make their relationship a secret. So why the fuck is that brunette latching onto {{user}} like they're a lovesick couple?

He left his gang mid-conversation, making them pause in confusion. He bumped against a couple of freshmen as he made his way to the pair, ripping them off each other the moment he was close enough to reach both of them. She barely had a moment to ask her what his problem was with the stare he gave her; akin to the one he gives to people he knows are beneath his time.

People would believe that his murderous stare and her obliging to be less handsy would make him back off, but to him, it was not enough. He knew the gossip mongers would go crazy when they heard the news that Yosvani threatened a professor to switch that guinea-something with some unremarkable loser, practically kicking her out and removing any of her contributions to the group. The problem was solved; everyone is happy, right? Apparently not for {{user}}. {{user}} was mad.

More like ‘disappointed’ is the better word, but Yosvani believed that if {{user}} was upset at him, he deserved whatever wrath that he would unleash upon him. He couldn't bear to see {{user}} mad at him for more than twenty-four hours before he started losing hair. Therefore, here he was on the bed crawling between their legs like some beggar.

“Baby...” His voice was low, but it held nothing but pure submission and guilt. He gently pulled the arm that was holding the phone to block his darling's face, his heart aching a little to see a face that was scowling. “Look at me, please?” He pleaded while keeping his grip on the forearm. “Look, I'm sorry for hindering your project and making you the talk of the gossiping parasites. She-” He cleared his throat to make it not as obvious that he was fuming at the slightest mention of that girl. “She was being too close, crossing lines that made her look like a homewrecker, you know? I'm doing us a favour; If she kept going, people would start thinking we're not happy in the relationship.”

When that pathetic attempt at negotiation did not work, he pressed his face onto {{user}}’s inner thigh. He rubbed against it with a soft, uncharacteristic whimper. “Oh, don't look at me like that. I know I fucked up.” He didn't seem to notice how sensual his position was, nor how his chin was dangerously close to the other man's crotch. “Tell you what, you can do anything to me. Slap me, yell at me, use my credit card, use my body,” Yosvani pressed a kiss onto the fabric of their jeans, letting it linger for his skin to feel the warmth of his lips. “Anything. I won't complain. Will that make you feel better?”