nostalgia

Dongrang’s hand ruffled through the man’s jet-black hair and patted it soothingly as though he were a beloved pet. “I always knew you’d come back. This little bird wants to return to the nest, doesn’t he?”

“I felt no yearning for you. The past is the past. There is no one else by my side now.” 

“Then why did you come here? Are you sure you’re not here to see your old friend?”

Yi Sang adjusted himself in Dongrang’s lap, not responding. The green office lights felt blinding as they sat together in Dongrang’s office chair, the crow not wanting to look into the other man’s eyes. 

“While you were prancing around the building with that company of yours, I was disheartened that you didn’t say anything, Yi Sang. Truthfully, I had to restrain myself from leaping onto you and taking you in my arms.” A smug grin made itself visible on Dongrang’s face when Yi Sang careened his face into the crook of his neck, just as he did back in the League. “You haven’t changed a bit.” 

Yi Sang sighed and wrapped his arms around Dongrang’s shoulders, unable to resist the allure of the past. Everything seemed so familiar, from the brand of perfume Dongrang used to the sensation of his hand in his hair. It was like he was with his League once more, reunited with the peak of his joys in life before the sorrowful waves swept him over and drowned him, carrying him here to lands he never thought of exploring before. And now he managed to cross paths with Dongrang again, who clearly never got over what he and Yi Sang used to have. Yi Sang allowed Dongrang’s hands to explore his still fully clothed body, and as a finger hooked under his garter, he instinctively squirmed and held tighter onto him with a gasp.

“Still sensitive after all of these years, aren’t you?” Dongrang chuckled. “Always my Yi Sang.”

Though he had an urge in him to tell Dongrang that no, I don’t belong to you, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of safety he got from being in his lap. 

Pathetic.

Shame overcame his body, alongside a slight urge to vomit. Dongrang had been so sickly sweet and tender, and yet he betrayed the group anyway. He ruined Yi Sang’s life; why was he giving into him so quickly? Why did this feel like returning home after years and years? He shrugged off Dongrang and distanced himself from him, pushing his feelings aside and focusing on his job. Dongrang is no longer by my side, he kept reminding himself. Yet now he's in Dongrang’s office after the rest of the Sinners had gone to bed, straddling him and panting against his neck. 

“Dongrang,” he whimpered softly. “I…”

He tugged on the garter a second time, releasing another moan.

“Tell me, Yi Sang.” 

He pulled his head up and locked eyes with him, the man who had taken everything away from him and his compatriots. The man who left him standing alone and right into Gubo’s arms. The man who, though indirectly, sent him wandering until Faust found him.

The man who ruined his life. 

“Can I touch you?”

His breath caught in his throat. The nausea dissipated, replaced with warmth in his stomach that had been growing for a while and finally coming to a head. 

“I won’t do anything without your permission, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. He consistently called him that in the League, so much so that the other members would make fun of him for it. Yi Sang’s legs shook and he heard his heart pounding, and though he knew his old compatriots would chew him out for it, hell, that his company might disown him if they found out… That Dongrang wasn’t by his side, and in fact, still actively manipulating everyone around him… That he’s simply giving into a man who's hung up over the past — well, so was he — and indulging him in something he shouldn’t…

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

And he really meant it.

“You’re entirely sure?”

“Yes.”

Dongrang’s smile grew wider before he leaned in to kiss Yi Sang, slow and steady, just as he did then. Yi Sang’s grip on his shoulders tightened when Dongrang’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, allowing him to kiss him deeper. The feeling in his stomach boiled now, his cock achingly hard, the shame quelling into desire that grew while Dongrang kissed him. The moan that escaped Yi Sang only spurred Dongrang on further. 

Dongrang had the time of his life reclaiming Yi Sang, every kiss and pant driving the point home further that yes, Yi Sang belonged to him, just as always. Yi Sang could tell he thought that with every kiss, and though he didn’t belong to him anymore, he could play into his delusions even if just for a night. What’s wrong with making an old friend happy? In his mind, nobody else loved him anyway. 

Dongrang rolled his hips against Yi Sang’s, pressing up into his ass and reaching down to grope it. For a few fleeting seconds he became overwhelmed with memories from the League, every single one of them having to do with Dongrang.

He’d spread him wide with his hands and fuck him into the mattress, breaking him into a slut until he could  only muster the word “yours”. His tongue would find his neck then his nipples, swirling and biting lightly to make him squirm while he took him. Dongrang would claim him in any way he wished to the point he began to associate the smell of herbal perfumes with the aura of sex, with Yi Sang’s arms and legs wrapped around Dongrang’s body. He asked himself for a moment if maybe he was as obsessive as Dongrang.

“Sweetheart,” Dongrang purred between kisses before his expression turned more somber, large eyed and pleading. “Please, stay with me. You don’t need them. I could fire Samjo. I’d make you my new secretary. I’d take care of everything and you wouldn’t have to do much.”

Okay, he definitely didn’t feel nearly that obsessed.

“I…” Yi Sang gulped. “I’ll… think about it.” 

Yi Sang refused to even consider the thought at first but damn, it seemed tempting. Not having to work and being loved all the time sounded nice. However, Limbus Company became dear to him, being the closest thing to friends he had left. Dongrang, as much as he wanted to touch him like this, would always be out of reach. No amount of mending could fix the bridge between them. Still… Dongrang’s eyes and self-serving grin almost made him want to give up and join him. 

But he couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

He had to face his fears and chart his own future.

However, maybe this would help him find closure. Maybe it would —

“Ah!” 

A hand found its way between his legs, groping and stroking. “I remember overhearing one of them say you met Gubo. I want to hear it right from you.”

“I — I met Gubo,” Yi Sang stammered. 

“Is that why you were so distant with me?”

“No, I simply believed I had no friends left.”

“A shame, a shame indeed.” Dongrang leaned in, teeth grazing Yi Sang’s neck. “But you still have me. We can try again.”

Yes, please.

“I still need time to think.”

Dongrang hummed. “Of course. I know you better than anyone else. You need time to ruminate, sweetheart. I only hope you don’t love Gubo more than you love me. Here, let me help you.” 

With a swift motion, he unzipped Yi Sang’s pants and pulled down his underwear, exposing his hardened dick to the cold. More memories filled his mind; Dongrang’s lips on his cock, sucking until he’d cum all over his face and glasses; or even better, down his throat. There were also times he’d fuck Dongrang himself, but his partner had trouble giving up control. The times Yi Sang dominated him were the times after stressful days, times when Dongrang wanted to lose control and relax. To be truthful, these times were some of Yi Sang’s favorites, but they were incredibly rare. That didn’t stop him from bucking his hips into the ring Dongrang’s fingers created though, closing his eyes and imagining being inside of him.

“Haa… Dongrang,” he moaned softly. “Please don’t stop…”

“There, there. I won’t.” Dongrang spoke in a sultry tone, his grip on Yi Sang’s cock tightening. His thumb teased the tip and oh, does that job offer look tempting… “I’ve got you, Yi Sang. You’re mine, remember? I’ll take care of you.” 

Though he never believed he would speak those words again, he ended up saying them.

“I’m yours, Dongrang.”

Dongrang’s breath hitched. “Haah… Haha, I knew it, and I’m sure you did too.”

Did he?

Yi Sang couldn’t respond to that. 

Yi Sang’s loving boyfriend stroked his cock faster, hand gliding across precum-covered skin, and soon Dongrang’s mouth met his. His tongue once again pressed against Yi Sang’s, this kiss warm and heavy. Dongrang occasionally nibbled at Yi Sang’s lip and held him close with his free arm. Because yes, in this moment, Yi Sang lived for him and him alone, just as he wanted. And despite everything, Yi Sang didn’t feel ashamed. They were two inventors close together despite everything, driven apart but brought back together by fate. 

That’s what Dongrang seemed to see it as, anyway. “My Yi Sang, my Yi Sang,” he repeated between kisses. “All mine. You’re mine, Yi Sang.” He indulged himself fully, thumbing at the tip of Yi Sang’s dick before sliding down to the base. His hands felt cold — familiarly cold, just like then. They felt especially cool against Yi Sang’s cock, standing strong and sorely hot. Dongrang would peck his cheek and give him words of praise, calling him a good boy and adorable. It was the most Yi Sang had been praised in years, and warmth spread throughout his chest while the words poured out of Dongrang’s mouth. 

“You're such a good boy for me, you know that?” 

Yi Sang shuddered and drooled, shivering in Dongrang’s hold and mindlessly moving his hips. His pale face was dyed red, his head thrown back and panting heavily. 

“My sweetheart. I love you.”

I love you.

He hadn’t been told those words in so long. His heart skipped a beat and his world seemed to spin, and soon enough he was clinging to Dongrang’s coat as he messily came, finishing on their clothes with some getting on the floor. Dongrang worked him through his orgasm and peppered kisses all over his face. His hand soothingly rubbed Yi Sang’s back until he was finished, and once he was done and back in his pants, Dongrang was still kissing him. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming back.”

“...It’s getting late. I have to go.”

Dongrang tilted his head. “Are you going to say you love me too?”

“I…” Yi Sang squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you too, Dongrang.”

He hated that he meant it.