Yaroslav only chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through Beom's body as if mocking his efforts. "You're not going anywhere," Yaroslav said, his voice calm and taunting. His grip tightened, steadying Beom's wriggling form as if holding a weightless doll. "And don't worry about falling—I've got you."
Beom clenched his jaw, frustration and anger boiling inside him. His legs kicked in the air, his feet brushing against Yaroslav's thighs in futile defiance. "You've got me?! I didn't ask to be carried like this!" he snarled, his fists pounding against Yaroslav's chest.
Yaroslav smirked down at him, his sharp blue eyes glinting with mischief and something darker, something that made Beom's stomach twist uncomfortably. "You're so lively," Yaroslav murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "I like it when you fight—it makes this all the more fun."
"Fun?! This isn't fun, you bastard!" Beom snapped, his face flushing with both rage and the heat of the situation. He tried again to push Yaroslav away, his legs kicking harder, but it only seemed to amuse the larger man.
With an almost lazy confidence, Yaroslav adjusted his hold, pressing Beom even closer. Beom froze as he felt the undeniable hardness of Yaroslav's arousal pressing against him. His eyes widened in alarm, and his hands instinctively pressed harder against Yaroslav's chest. "Don't you dare!" he spat, his voice trembling as his mind raced with dread.
Yaroslav's grin widened as he began to move, his hips rolling with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Beom's breath hitched as he felt the thick length of Yaroslav's member sliding along him, teasing his entrance with maddening precision. The slickness from the water only heightened the sensation, sending an unwelcome shiver down Beom's spine.
"Stop it!" Beom growled, his voice shaky as he twisted his body in an attempt to escape. His legs kicked again, but Yaroslav's strength was unrelenting, keeping him firmly in place. "I said, stop!"
"Why are you so tense?" Yaroslav said, his tone almost mocking as he pressed closer, his lips brushing against Beom's ear. "Relax, Beom. You'll enjoy this much more if you stop fighting."
"I can't relax, you psycho!" Beom shouted, his voice rising in pitch as Yaroslav's movements grew more insistent. The feeling of Yaroslav's length pressing against him sent his thoughts spiraling into chaos. He gritted his teeth, his nails digging into Yaroslav's shoulders in a futile attempt to stop him. "This isn't happening! Let me go, right now!"
Yaroslav only smirked, his confidence unwavering. "I think you're forgetting, Beom," he said with a low growl, his voice thick with desire. "The doctor said I'm good to go—and I'm not about to waste this opportunity."
Beom's eyes widened in shock, and a flush of heat spread across his face. "You're insane!" he spat, his legs kicking wildly, his entire body twisting in a desperate bid for freedom. But no matter how hard he struggled, Yaroslav's hold didn't waver. His hands were like steel, gripping Beom's thighs firmly, keeping him suspended and utterly at his mercy.
As Yaroslav adjusted his grip again, Beom felt the unmistakable pressure of his entrance being teased further. His entire body tensed, his breath hitching as he fought to suppress the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. "Nghhh... Stop, stop!" he gasped, his voice faltering.
Yaroslav leaned closer, his lips brushing against Beom's temple as he whispered, "You're doing so well. Just let it happen." His tone was laced with both reassurance and command, sending a chill down Beom's spine.
"I hate you!" Beom shouted, his voice breaking as his resolve began to crack under the sheer intensity of Yaroslav's presence. "I hate you so much..."
"And yet," Yaroslav murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance, "your body tells me a different story."
Beom's nails dug into Yaroslav's skin as he clung to the larger man out of necessity, his legs trembling as he tried in vain to push him away. The relentless sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and Beom's mind swirled with a chaotic mix of fury, defiance, and a maddening heat he couldn't suppress.
Bottom of Form
Beom's protests turned into unbidden moans, slipping past his lips despite his desperate attempts to bite them back. The rhythmic pace Yaroslav set was relentless yet careful, as if he were deliberately teasing Beom—testing how far he could push without breaking him. Beom's whimpers grew louder with each passing moment, his trembling hands gripping Yaroslav's shoulders for balance, his body betraying him in the most humiliating way possible.
"Damn it, stop!" Beom shouted, though his voice was shaky and uneven, betraying the turmoil roiling inside him. His thoughts were a storm of fury, shame, and something he didn't dare acknowledge—a maddening heat spreading through his body like wildfire. Why is this happening? Why can't I stop reacting to him? This bastard… this damned bastard!
Yaroslav, ever composed, only smirked, his hands steady as they held Beom in place. He seemed completely unfazed by Beom's struggles, his deep blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Beom's attempts to twist free were met with firm, unwavering resistance, as if Yaroslav found amusement in his helpless defiance.
"You're so noisy," Yaroslav said, his voice low and amused as he slowed down briefly. "It's cute."
"Cute?!" Beom spat, his face burning with indignation. His voice cracked as he lashed out, "You think this is cute, you sick piece of—"
Before Beom could finish, Yaroslav shifted, his movements smooth and practiced as he lowered Beom's trembling form to the ground. For a brief moment, Beom thought it was over—that Yaroslav might actually stop. But that illusion shattered when Yaroslav turned him around, pressing Beom's chest against the cold, wet tiles. The sudden chill sent a shiver through him, and he gasped, his hands instinctively pressing against the wall for support.
"W-what are you doing?!" Beom shouted, his voice rising as he felt Yaroslav's hands grip his hips, pulling him slightly away from the wall. Beom's mind raced as he realized what was coming, panic bubbling to the surface. "Don't you dare! Stop this, Yaroslav!"
Yaroslav didn't respond with words. Instead, he spread Beom's cheeks with his hands, exposing him completely. The vulnerability of the position sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over Beom. "Stop! You crazy bastard! You—ahhh!" Beom's words were cut off by a sharp moan as Yaroslav thrust into him without hesitation, the sudden fullness making his eyes widen in shock.
"Ahhh! S-stop, it hurts!" Beom cried out, his fingers clawing at the tiles as he tried to push away from the relentless intrusion. His body trembled, every muscle tense as he fought to process the overwhelming sensation. "You're insane! Get off me, you damn monster!"
Yaroslav's only response was a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against Beom's back as he leaned closer. "You're so noisy, Beom," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "But I think I like it. You sound beautiful like this."
"Beautiful?! I'll kill you, you insane—ahhh!" Beom's curses dissolved into a guttural moan as Yaroslav's pace quickened, his hips moving with a practiced rhythm that made Beom's body shudder. "Damn it! Damn you to hell!" Beom shouted, his voice hoarse as he fought against the maddening mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him. This can't be happening. I hate him. I hate him so much...
Yaroslav smirked as he reached for Beom's hair, his fingers tangling in the wet strands before pulling back sharply. Beom gasped as his head was forced upward, his back arching under the strain. The position made him feel even more exposed, and the sound that escaped his lips was half a moan, half a sob.
"Yaroslav, you bastard!" Beom shouted, his voice cracking as he cursed in Korean, the language spilling out like a litany of frustration and rage. "꺼져, 미친놈아! (Get lost, you lunatic!)" Beom growled through gritted teeth. "내가 널 죽일 거야! (I'll kill you!)"
Yaroslav's grin widened as he watched the way Beom's body arched beneath him, his strong frame trembling yet unyielding. "You're so fiery, Beom," he murmured, his voice tinged with a strange mix of admiration and dominance. "It's beautiful."
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Beom snapped, his face burning with humiliation as Yaroslav continued his relentless rhythm. Every thrust made his body jerk against the cold tiles, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the small space. Beom bit his lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but it was no use. Every movement drew more whimpers and moans from him, and his curses began to falter.
"Relax," Yaroslav said, his voice a husky growl as he pulled Beom's hair tighter, forcing his back to arch even more. "You're doing so well. Just let go."
"Let go?!" Beom shouted, his voice filled with a mix of fury and desperation. "You're insane if you think I'll ever—nghh!" His words were cut off by a particularly deep thrust that made his knees buckle, and he clung to the wall for dear life. His mind was a whirlwind of anger, shame, and a treacherous heat that refused to be ignored. Why can't I fight this? Why can't I stop...
Yaroslav's pace didn't falter, his breathing heavy as he watched Beom's trembling form beneath him. To him, it was a masterpiece—a beautiful, chaotic mess of defiance and surrender. And he was determined to savor every moment of it.
The bathroom was heavy with the aftermath of their intense movements, the air thick with the lingering tension and the rhythmic sound of their breaths. For a few moments, Yaroslav slowed, letting his body rest, his pace gradually coming to a stop. Beom, drenched in sweat, thought it was over. His body sagged against the wall, still trembling from the relentless pleasure, his mind swirling in a haze of confusion and exhaustion. His eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, but before he could fully gather himself, a sudden shift startled him.
Without warning, Yaroslav gripped Beom's body firmly, his hands locking around Beom's waist. The next thing Beom knew, he was lifted high into the air, his legs dangling helplessly. The world tilted, his body suspended in Yaroslav's hold as if he were weightless. The shock left him breathless, his mind scrambling to process what was happening. His eyes widened as he struggled to catch his bearings.
"What the—?" Beom started, but he was cut off by a deep thrust, the sensation far more intense than anything he had experienced so far. Yaroslav's powerful movements forced Beom's body to meet him again, this time with an unexpected force that made Beom gasp, his face twisting into an expression from the sudden shock of the penetration.