Ack— Zion!
Even his scream caught in his throat.
Thankfully, Zion hadn't moved yet. Suga could hear the man groaning above him, his grip on Suga's waist tightening— like he'd sensed the pain in him, and was trying, just barely, to hold himself back.
It must've been torture for Zion to stay still— but Suga was incredibly, desperately grateful for the pause.
His right hand still inside the bag kept searching, fingertips brushing against a zippered pouch. He felt the shape of something firm. Grabbing it and yanking it out, he finally found the gag— but the shape was... not what he expected.
His mind stalled, trying to process the design.
Anyone hearing the word "gag" would picture a classic gag ball, the kind used in BDSM scenes. But the thing in his hand— its center was shaped like a box, but not exactly square. When Suga pressed it, the texture felt eerily like flesh— soft and elastic, but denser, heavier.
