Work Text:
Akin watched Jin work his way lower and lower, stopping at every mark Johnny had made. Jin’s mouth was insistent, nipping and sucking over each mark, making them stand out even darker against Akin’s skin. Akin welcomed the feeling of the growing bruises, a reminder that his body was not Johnny’s plaything.
His head fell back as Jin continued his mission, tracing over the evidence of Johnny’s transgressions and leaving behind his own art in their place. The steam wrapped around Akin like a cocoon and the sound of the water raining down on them matched the thundering of his heart.
When Jin pulled his boxers down, Akin scrambled for something to hold onto, his hands slipping on the wet glass. Jin’s mouth was hot around him and he felt like he might combust from the feeling. He let Jin turn him around, not bothering to hold back his gasps of shock and pleasure when Jin put his clever mouth back to work.
The feeling of Jin’s teeth nipping his flesh, of his hands kneading and spreading him, of his tongue softly sweeping over him—no one had ever had Akin like this, and no one ever would again. He existed like this just for Jin, his was body a canvas for Jin’s fingers, teeth, and lips, and no one else’s.