DP Side Story Episode 6

Deep Pivot Side Story, Episode 6

“Ngh…”

Seo-joon traced his lips slowly over the ridges and curves, teasing the soft, flushed tip with gentle kisses. No matter how stunning someone was, a man’s cock wasn’t exactly known for being aesthetically pretty—and yet, somehow, Cha Yeon-woo even defied that.

Not a single stray hair, smooth as porcelain, and so big it almost didn’t feel real. Not like a body part, but something else entirely. The size, the shape, the faint hue—it all called to mind some perfectly ripened fruit: a flawless peach, or a plum given top-grade marks for visual appeal.

“Don’t finish before we even get started, like last time,” Seo-joon murmured, lips brushing teasingly against the sensitive tip.

“Hhn… Don’t say stuff like that with your mouth still on it…”

“You’re the one who asked me to teach you.”

Seo-joon, resuming his educational intent, licked along the shaft, planting deliberate kisses along its length. It was long enough that even just covering it with his mouth took real effort—longer than the length of his own face.

“Don’t look away. Watch carefully. I’m showing you how to put it on.”

The translucent white silicone bumper slid smoothly into place, fitting snugly around the swollen, saliva-slicked tip of Yeon-woo’s cock. With his lips stretched wide, Seo-joon finally took in the head—now framed by the bumper—as it pushed past his tongue and filled his mouth. The fluid pooled in the slit smeared wetly across his palate.

“A-ah, n-no, that’s—hngh… it’s enough now… please…”

Yeon-woo hunched over, his voice cracking into breathy moans as he writhed in place. His trembling hand reached down as if to stop Seo-joon, covering the hand grasping the base of his cock.
But Seo-joon only brought that hand to his head, silently encouraging him to hold on there instead.

The bumper pushed past Seo-joon’s lips, smooth and seamless thanks to how thoroughly he’d wet it in advance. As it slid down the sensitive, veiny shaft, the tight silicone pressed in on the delicate skin, creating soft ridges of folded flesh as it moved.

“I-It hurts—it’s too tight—ah, it’s really too tight, I don’t think this is right, Lieutenant—I-I’m gonna burst, please, it hurts—ah, it really hurts—!”

Cha Yeon-woo, as always, delivered his adorable brand of dramatics—breathless and constant, a stream of panicked-sounding complaints.

Every time Seo-joon swallowed and his mouth tightened around the shaft, the muscles in Yeon-woo’s lower abdomen clenched hard, drawing up tight from the pressure.

The bumper only made it about a third of the way in. That was as far as Seo-joon could take it—his limit.

Slow… steady…

Seo-joon bobbed his head, not even halfway down the shaft, yet still keeping a firm, rhythmic pace. When he looked up, Yeon-woo was gritting his teeth, brows drawn in deep concentration as suppressed moans pushed past his lips.

“Ah—Lieutenant… Lieutenant, please… d-don’t…”

His words sounded almost like a protest, tinged with annoyance—but the way his hips began to move, slowly, carefully aligning with Seo-joon’s pace, told another story.

And when Seo-joon angled his tongue just right—pressing gently beneath the sensitive underside of the head, licking in slow, firm strokes—a shivering moan slipped out from Yeon-woo, barely restrained, like a sigh surrendering to pleasure.

“Haa…”

Yeon-woo’s fingers tightened in Seo-joon’s hair. And in that moment, Seo-joon felt a wave of deep, pulsing satisfaction wash over him.
Maybe now—just maybe—he understood why Cha Yeon-woo had once lost control and finished just from going down on him.

Unlike anything else, the mouth could taste pleasure.

That sensation—of catching every spill and tremble of arousal not just with touch but with his tongue, with the full spread of taste buds—was electrifying.
He could feel how badly Yeon-woo was holding back.
The way his body ached to release, the way it pulsed and throbbed against his tongue—wet and sweet and helpless.

Gulp, gulp.
Cha Yeon-woo was always so wet, so full—it spread across Seo-joon’s mouth like a flood. There was no real “flavor” to human arousal, but right now, it tasted undeniably sweet.

“I-I can’t… I can’t hold it, ah—Lieutenant, please, just stop—j-just for a second—ngh…”

Seo-joon didn’t answer—he just looked up and smiled, eyes curving sweetly, cruelly.
Then he sucked down hard.

The kind of pull that made Yeon-woo’s cock throb helplessly, locked deep in place as it kept bumping against the roof of Seo-joon’s mouth.
Yeon-woo could neither yank at his hair nor push him away; all he could do was pant, breath stuttering, body tightening.

The cock stuffed full in Seo-joon’s mouth began to twitch—shallow, rapid spasms rippling through it.
Almost there.
Seo-joon felt it, predicted it, and when Yeon-woo tried to pull back, he followed instead—tilting his head, swallowing deeper, holding him firmly in place.

“A-ah, Lieutenant…! Nngh—”

With a groan that sounded both overwhelmed and faintly scolding, Yeon-woo came.
A hot spurt of fluid hit the back of Seo-joon’s throat—splurt, splurt—thicker and stronger than expected.

Even though Seo-joon had braced for it, the sheer volume made it impossible to swallow it all at once.

Seo-joon watched him the entire time, eyes wide open, gaze locked on Yeon-woo’s face—taking in every quiver, every twitch, every breathless loss of control.
God, this is good… way too good. Why haven’t I been doing this all along?

“……”

Gulp. Gulp.

He licked along every ridge of Yeon-woo’s shaft as he swallowed, not letting a single drop go to waste. Only once he had finished—completely, deliberately—did he slowly let the cock slip from his mouth.

The silicone bumper left a faint ring just below the swollen head, which was now flushed a deep, reddish pink. A bit of cum, thick and cloudy, still clung to the grooves of the glans, unable to escape past the snug fit of the bumper.

To Seo-joon—whose sense of objectivity had long since vanished when it came to his lover—it looked like nothing short of art.
Like a ripe peach, gently scored with a blade, drizzled with a single, perfect drop of condensed milk.

Something he could admire every day and never tire of.

“…Hup.”

Seo-joon flicked out his tongue and caught that last stubborn bead of cum, cleaning it away with casual precision.

Then he heard a sound from above—looked up—and froze for just a moment.

Yeon-woo was staring down at him, one hand covering his mouth, face slack with shock, like someone who’d just had some fundamental, sacred part of himself stolen. Utterly destroyed.

Seo-joon, still perfectly composed, reached up and tapped the bumper—right where it had settled, a third of the way down.

“Make sure you remember the position. Next time I go down on you, I’m only pushing it in this far. That’s my limit, no matter how hard I try.”

“……”

“And now…”

He smiled faintly.

“You should be able to put it on by yourself, right?”

With calm, practiced fingers, Seo-joon pushed the bumper all the way down to the base, watching the way it fit—snug and stretched—like a final finishing touch.
He took a moment to admire the view, utterly pleased.
Satisfying.
Truly, this was peak satisfaction. Honestly, if someone stranded him on an island and told him he had to spend every day doing nothing but going down on Cha Yeon-woo? He could live with that.

“Let’s wash up and get going.”

He said, checking the clock.

“We should get there early so we can be there when Jeong-woo’s ready.”

But just as he turned away—whip—his arm was yanked back, and before he could catch his balance, he was lifted clean off the floor.

“Ah—”

In the blink of an eye, Seo-joon found himself perched on the edge of the dining table, blinking in mild disbelief. He looked up at Yeon-woo, whose brows were furrowed tight. Yeon-woo planted both hands on either side of him, caging him in.

“…It’s still a long time until Jeong-woo’s visiting hours.”

Tears clung to the corners of Yeon-woo’s eyes, not from sadness—but from pure, stubborn pride. The kind that only came with youth, and a surge of raw, boyish determination.

He pressed himself between Seo-joon’s legs, grabbed his ass firmly, and pulled him closer—tight.

That cock—still fully hard, despite having just drenched Seo-joon’s mouth moments ago—pressed thick and unrelenting against his groin.

With eyes more serious than Seo-joon had ever seen, Yeon-woo looked directly at him.

“I don’t want to be the only one… feeling good. It’s embarrassing. You should be ruined, too, Lieutenant. It’s only fair.”

It was a clumsy, bold little declaration of intent.
A cute promise: he wasn’t going to be on the receiving end forever.

Before Seo-joon could even think of a response, lips crashed into his—and his body was lifted again.

Surprised, Seo-joon let out a muffled laugh against Yeon-woo’s mouth, instinctively wrapping his legs around his waist. The pendant light above the table brushed the back of his head as they moved.

No matter how many times this happened, Seo-joon was still not used to being carried like this.
Nor to having his world suddenly hoisted upward in someone else’s arms.

But by now, he knew better than to resist.

The moment the crown of his head brushed the ceiling, Seo-joon ducked instinctively, throwing his arms tightly around Yeon-woo’s neck.

“Stop picking me up out of nowhere. I almost hit my head.”

“I don’t care. I’m in a hurry.”

His lover, who still believed sex was only something that should happen in a bed, was—despite his urgency—diligently carrying him all the way to the bedroom.

Seo-joon couldn’t help but laugh at the innocence of it.

Moments later, he was gently dropped onto the mattress, breath catching as his back hit the sheets.

And finally— Only once he was inside him, —did Yeon-woo fully understand the purpose of the bumper.

---

It was a bright, sunny spring afternoon.

The loose bun at the top of Song-hee’s head swayed gently in the breeze that flowed in through an open hallway window.

With a box of heavy copy paper awkwardly cradled in her arms, she glanced at her wristwatch, her posture strained. Her stomach gave a low, urgent growl—just past lunch, and she hadn’t eaten yet.

Then, as she looked down the hall, her eyes caught sight of two familiar figures, and her face lit up.

“Lieutenant Ji! Yeon-woo!”

Unable to wave, she wiggled her body side to side as she approached, grinning.

Both Seo-joon and Yeon-woo looked… slightly off their usual sharp game—hair still damp, tousled, as if they’d slept in.

Together. Probably overslept.

Together.

“I was just thinking you two should be showing up around now!”

“Hello.”

Yeon-woo smiled and easily took the box from her arms, his expression gentle and warm.

“Have you been well?”

“Oh, you know me—same as always.”

Then, peering between the two, Song-hee teased.

“So what’ve you two been doing, huh? It felt weird not seeing you every day.”

“You make it sound like we’ve been gone for months.”

Seo-joon said with a laugh, taking half the load from Yeon-woo’s hands.

It had been ten days since their official discharge from the center, but before Jeong-woo’s visitation restrictions, they’d still been visiting almost daily. In truth, it had only been four days.

“Oh! That’s right.”

Song-hee clapped her hands together.

“You guys don’t know yet—Director Kang went on a blind date!”

“Hee-min-hyung went on a date? And he didn’t tell me?” Seo-joon raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s cold.”

“And get this—Team Leader Jin and Young-gyo unnie already had their formal family meeting. You didn’t know that either, right? Looks like they’re picking a date soon.”

Just four days—and so much had happened already.

Updates rolled out of Song-hee’s mouth like gossip from a news ticker. All the personal stories, team affairs, and office chatter that Seo-joon and Yeon-woo would’ve once been the first to hear now came secondhand.

They had left the SAU group chat when they retired, quietly slipping away like pages turning in a new chapter.

And now, as Seo-joon listened to Song-hee fill them in, he felt it—clearly and quietly:

They were drifting further and further from the world they used to belong to.