[ Cheol-gang strikes with only one hand, because, really, that's all he needs to hold Irving's shoulder to the wood paneling that lines all four walls of the elevator; the impact after a mere few inches' travel is audible. He maintains the pressure, enough to keep him there but not enough to cause pain, at least by his own estimation: a strange thing, pushing someone with the additional mental work of bridling the force he uses.
He leans forward, until he's sure Irving can feel his unsteady exhalations against his face, one leg between his, his own erection pressing into the man's thighā€”a sensation that feels more incredible than it should in his current state of excitement, considering that he's a grown man, not a 17-year-old delinquent in his second week of basic trainingā€”though the choreography of the fragmented memory does align almost perfectly when transposed over this moment.
Cheol-gang swallows, the rather prominent ridge of cartilage visibly moving under ochre skin. ]
I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand that, Lieutenant?
cw [consensual] sexualized violence from here on out baybee!!!
He leans forward, until he's sure Irving can feel his unsteady exhalations against his face, one leg between his, his own erection pressing into the man's thighā€”a sensation that feels more incredible than it should in his current state of excitement, considering that he's a grown man, not a 17-year-old delinquent in his second week of basic trainingā€”though the choreography of the fragmented memory does align almost perfectly when transposed over this moment.
Cheol-gang swallows, the rather prominent ridge of cartilage visibly moving under ochre skin. ]
I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand that, Lieutenant?