"AAAAHHH…" Beom screamed, his voice high-pitched and raw as the sensation hit him deep. His body stiffened as Yaroslav thrust again, deeper than he expected, his internal muscles stretching to accommodate the intensity. Beom's hands instinctively gripped Yaroslav's arms, his nails digging in as his breath caught. The overwhelming sensation made his entire body quiver. "So deep… aaahhh… aaahhh…" he moaned uncontrollably, his chest heaving as he struggled to hold onto his thoughts.
Beom's mind felt like it was spiraling, his body reacting against his will. His heart raced as each forceful movement sent jolts of pleasure through him. The sudden change in position caught him off guard, and though part of him was still trying to process what had just happened, another part of him couldn't deny the pleasure flooding his body. It was too much. His thoughts scattered as the deep, powerful thrusts sent him reeling.
"씨발, 이 미친 놈아..." Beom cursed, his voice strained, his breath coming in short gasps. (Fuck, you crazy bastard…) His back arched instinctively as Yaroslav pressed deeper into him, and every single nerve in his body screamed for release. Despite his attempt to fight it, despite every desperate ounce of resistance, his body was betraying him.
Beom's mind was a chaotic blur. The sensation was so intense, so overwhelming, it made his head spin. His legs dangled limply, his body swaying slightly in Yaroslav's hold, yet the thrusts didn't slow. Each deep motion forced Beom to abandon any sense of control. His body jerked with every movement, his lips parting with every harsh breath, a continuous string of moans escaping from him.
"아… 제발… 멈춰… 아… 씨발, 제발…" Beom moaned desperately, his voice trembling with frustration and pleasure, his mind torn between wanting to escape and wanting more. (Ah… please… stop… ah… fuck, please…) His thoughts were a mess, unable to focus on anything except the overwhelming, constant pressure building inside him. The force of each thrust made his body flush with heat, his skin tingling, his legs starting to shake with the strain.
"Tell me, Beom," Yaroslav whispered through gritted teeth, his voice low and full of dark satisfaction. "Do you like this?" His hands tightened around Beom's body, controlling every movement, making sure Beom couldn't escape the intensity. Yaroslav's grin was evident, even without looking, as his thrusts continued, brutal and unrelenting.
Beom's thoughts were fragmented, torn between his words and the sensations ravaging his body. "씨발, 그만해… 제발… 하… 나… 내가 미쳤어… 아아…" Beom cursed, his voice cracking, as if he were trying to find some sense of control, but it was useless. (Fuck, stop… please… I'm losing my mind… ahhh…) His legs twitched, every inch of him trembling under the force of Yaroslav's movements. His eyes were shut tight, and though he tried to hold back the next wave of moans, it was impossible. His body was consumed with the intensity of it all.
Yaroslav didn't let up, and Beom's voice became more frantic, higher-pitched. "Ahhh… AAHHH…!" He screamed, his mind a whirlwind of pleasure and frustration as he found himself pushed beyond his limits. "S-Slow down… please, s-slow down…" Beom begged, though even as the words escaped him, his body arched into Yaroslav's thrusts, driven by an uncontrollable need.
The bathroom was filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, harsh breaths and moans blending into a rhythm that seemed to consume everything. Beom was lost in it, a prisoner of sensation, his body trembling uncontrollably, his mind fragmented between curses and pleasure.
"Ngghh… mhmm… aahh," Beom's face contorted, the conflicting waves of pleasure and frustration twisting his features. His breathing grew ragged, each sharp inhale hitching as he struggled to fight the overwhelming sensations.
"씨발… 젠장… 아… 하…" he hissed, his curses tumbling out in Korean despite himself. (Fuck… damn… ah… ha…) His voice trembled as his body betrayed him, the desperate sounds escaping his lips against his will.
"S-Sto—haah…" he managed to gasp, though the words came weak and broken, lost in the haze of sensation. Each protest was swallowed by another helpless moan, his attempts at control faltering as Yaroslav moved with unwavering purpose.
Yaroslav groaned deeply, his focus intense and unrelenting. He watched Beom's every reaction, a quiet satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. Each deliberate movement seemed to draw Beom further into a state of helplessness, the tension between resistance and surrender growing thicker by the second.
"씨발놈… 미친 새끼…" Beom spat out between breaths, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. (Fucking bastard… crazy jerk…) His glare was sharp, but the flush spreading across his cheeks betrayed his bravado.
Yaroslav smirked, his lips curling into a smug grin that only seemed to infuriate Beom further. Without missing a beat, he shifted his position, sitting at the edge of the bed and pulling Beom closer with ease. Beom let out a sharp gasp as Yaroslav lifted his legs effortlessly, pressing them together and raising them high. The sudden change left Beom entirely at Yaroslav's mercy, his vulnerability sending a fresh wave of heat through him.
"You like that, huh?" Yaroslav teased, his voice low and taunting. The deep timbre of his words carried an air of absolute control, a confidence that made Beom's stomach churn with equal parts anger and something he refused to name.
"닥쳐… 씨발놈아," Beom growled, his tone laced with defiance. (Shut up… you bastard.) His fingers gripped the sheets tightly, his body tense with frustration even as it betrayed him. "Fuck you," he added, spitting the words like venom.
Yaroslav chuckled, the sound rich and unbothered, as if Beom's resistance only amused him. "Oh, you're so fiery," he murmured, his tone dripping with mockery. "But you can't lie to me. I can feel it."
Beom's glare faltered as Yaroslav's movements quickened. The sharp increase in intensity wrenched a cry from Beom's lips, raw and unrestrained. His head tilted back against the pillows as he gasped for air, the sensations crashing over him like a tidal wave.
"말도 안 돼… 멈춰… 제발…" Beom whimpered, his voice breaking as he pleaded. (This is ridiculous… stop… please…) But even as the words left his lips, his body arched into Yaroslav's touch, betraying him completely.
"Say it," Yaroslav demanded, his voice firm and commanding. He leaned in close, his breath warm against Beom's ear as he whispered, "Admit it. You like this, don't you?"
Beom shook his head weakly, his lips trembling as he tried to deny it. "아니… 아니야… 씨발… 네… 네…" he finally screamed, the words tumbling out in a broken mix of resistance and surrender. (No… it's not true… fuck… yes… yes…) His hands fisted the sheets as his resolve crumbled entirely. "YES! P-Please… slow down… 제발… 아악…!" (Please… slow down… aahhh…)
Yaroslav's grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched Beom unravel. "There it is," he said softly, his tone dripping with triumph. The sound of Beom's cries echoed in the room, raw and unfiltered, a testament to the intensity of the moment.
Every movement, every sound was charged with unspoken tension, pulling them both into a spiral neither could escape. Beom's curses continued to spill from his lips, each one a mixture of anger, frustration, and reluctant surrender.
"씨발… 미친놈… 젠장…" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible now. (Fuck… crazy bastard… damn it…) His body trembled, his mind overwhelmed, as Yaroslav leaned in closer, whispering something low and indecipherable against his skin.
The room was filled with the clash of their voices, the air thick with intensity. Beom's protests had faded into a mix of moans and curses, his resistance giving way to the inevitable.
Yaroslav's movements quickened, his pace steady yet relentless. Each motion was precise, carrying a weight of determination and intensity that made the air around them thick and electric. The room seemed to blur, the only sounds punctuating the silence being Beom's increasingly ragged breaths and soft, involuntary moans.
Beom's body trembled beneath Yaroslav, his chest rising and falling as if he were trying to catch a breath that always seemed just out of reach. His flushed cheeks glistened faintly under the dim light, his lips parted as small, broken sounds escaped.
"하… 아… 멈춰… 제발…" Beom whimpered weakly, his voice cracking under the pressure. (Ha… ah… stop… please…) But his pleas were barely audible now, more like a whisper carried away by the tension filling the room.
Yaroslav, however, was beyond hearing. His focus was absolute, his body moving with an instinctive rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of his own heartbeat. He leaned closer, his breaths mingling with Beom's as he pushed forward, his pace intensifying with every second.
"그만… 씨발…" Beom's faint protest broke into a choked moan, his head tilting back as his body finally went limp against the mattress. (Stop… fuck…) His hands, which had been gripping the sheets so tightly, now slackened, falling to his sides in complete surrender.
Yaroslav felt the shift, his eyes flickering to Beom's expression. His face was flushed, his features softened in an almost serene vulnerability that only spurred Yaroslav further.
And then, with one final, deliberate motion, Yaroslav reached his peak. His body tensed as a guttural groan escaped his lips, raw and deep, echoing in the stillness. The sensation was overwhelming, a culmination of intensity that seemed to flood every corner of the room.
He released into Beom, his breath hitching as his hands gripped the other man's thighs tightly, holding him in place. The heat of the moment was matched only by the pounding in Yaroslav's chest, his heart racing as he remained still for a moment, caught in the aftershocks of the experience.
It was only then, as the haze began to lift, that Yaroslav noticed something. Beom's body had gone utterly still. His chest, which had been rising and falling in rapid breaths moments before, now moved in slow, steady rhythms. His head lolled to the side, his expression peaceful, almost as if he were sleeping.
"Beom?" Yaroslav's voice was low, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He leaned closer, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from Beom's flushed face.
Beom didn't respond. His eyes remained closed, his body completely slack against the bed.
"...Did you pass out?" Yaroslav murmured, his lips twitching into an incredulous grin despite himself. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest as he shook his head, his hand gently resting on Beom's cheek. "You really couldn't handle it, could you?"
For a moment, Yaroslav simply stared at him, his own breath finally beginning to steady. The vulnerability of the scene struck him in a way he hadn't expected—Beom's features softened in unconsciousness, the tension completely erased from his body.
"Sleep well," Yaroslav whispered, his voice softening as he brushed his lips against Beom's temple. There was something both amusing and endearing about the sight before him.
Carefully, Yaroslav adjusted their position, ensuring Beom was comfortable. He pulled a blanket over him, taking a moment to study his face once more. Despite the heat of the moment, a strange warmth settled in Yaroslav's chest, something foreign and unfamiliar.