wɦɛʀɛ ɗiɗ i gѳ wʀѳɳg ?

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

With the sudden emptiness of his body, Winston sagged forward, allowing himself to slide off the countertop, flush against the other’s warmth. There was a glisten across his skin, a thin sheen of sweat. Perhaps, he worried, perhaps it was just a touch too much as he draped his arms gently across the other’s shoulders, dragging breathless and slow kisses over his mouth and cheeks -- but no, no, nothing was too much, was it? Nothing was too much with Gunner, it never had been on anything else, and now, it never could be, could it?

“What...” He breathed, brow furrowing with a touch of confusion. Part of him felt foul, wet and sticky, but another part felt that that was alright, for a moment at least, if it meant feeling like this even a second longer. “What do we do now...?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

Warmer suddenly, Winston held tighter to Gunner, drawing his tongue further up the other’s neck to savour the shudder of orgasm across his skin. His mouth pressed needy kisses against Gyeongja’s open lips, but a single slip was all it took. The tightness of the other’s grip was just enough. 

A curled spring released in his abdomen, a sudden pull into himself that ricocheted through his bones. He gripped tighter still, a petite convulsion rocking his body, and a spray of heat painted wet pearls between them as the sensation disappeared, leaving his ears ringing and his body aching.

“Ssibal,” he breathed, panting against the other’s skin.

[drwinstonkim-blog]

the road to hell // flashback

[drwinstonkim-blog]

lucienxstratos:

    LUCIEN didn’t know how long he sat there, absently drumming his fingers against the edge of the flat, metal bed, its thin mattress offering no barrier against the cold, sterile atmosphere of the room. But he was sure not even half an hour had passed before the door opened to emit a cheerful Dr. Kim. Half an hour of doing nothing but eyeballing his narrow-eyed, white-garbed reflection in the mirror across the room. Alone or not, Lucien could still feel their eyes on him, watching his every move. It had gotten worse lately — like they could sense the change in him and acted accordingly, treating him with suspect whenever he was assigned a certain task. 

    AND, well, maybe they had cause to worry, since he’d already begun to falter where it counted. Not once, not twice, but three damn times. Three strikes and you’re out of there. He was a little surprised no one had given the order to ground him yet. “MORNING, DOC,” Lucien greeted brightly, hiding his own unease behind a wide, buoyant smile. “CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, I’M A MORNING PERSON, SO I DON’T MIND THESE EIGHT A.M. APPOINTMENTS.” Better to get them over with than to stew over them all day. “SO WHAT’S ON THE AGENDA FOR TODAY, HM? GOING TO CHECK IF I’VE GROWN A TAIL IN THE LAST TWO DAYS OR SO?”

The other’s smile was a true relief as he entered the room, sliding the door shut and hearing the automatic lock click into place. It was a comfort, these glistening white walls, how they seemed to hold in the good and push out all ill and evil, and for a child, raised more on the streets than in a home, he was amazed how comfortable he was here.

“Good morning,” he countered cheerfully, resting his clipboard on the countertop. “I guess you’re one of the lucky few, huh?” With a soft laugh, he grabbed hold of a chair nearby, moving it so that he was sitting next to the examination bed. “How’d you know we were checking for tails?”

Instead, however, he crossed his legs one over the other. “Just a standard checkup, I’m afraid. None of the fun stuff today -- of course, you know, unless you want something fun then I can...have a random blood draw ordered,” he joked. “First and foremost, though, I want to know how you’re doing. How’re you feeling?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

god save us from the people who

                                                    m e a n   w e l l

moodboard for hyungi kim 1/? for paradigmtask

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

The words that spilled free of his throat were not pretty, not in Korean nor in English, and certainly not when his mind was so distracted as to be unable to tell exactly which he spoke. A shudder found his bones at Gunner’s touch, at the scrape of his teeth and the stroke of his palm, and he found himself struggling to keep rhythm, a whimpering moan slipping free that he tried desperately to stifle. So close, already, but he couldn’t help it.

This wasn’t about him, though, and he leaned into the touch, legs spreading as far as they could go, though the motion caused him to whimper. His hands grabbed for the other’s waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck first to steady himself from the impending release, to delay himself as much as he could. Then, warm tongue slipping up the soft flesh of his neck, sharp teeth found purchase on Gunner’s throat, biting down to try to leave a mark he wished he could have left years ago.

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

An uncontrollable feeling, a feeling that ran tight along the undersides of his legs, tightening all of his muscles, shocked through his abdomen, twisting into a coil between his hips. Pain pushed harshly into him with each thrust, but it was met with a wave of delight each time.

Managing to hold on with one hand to Gunner’s shoulder, where little half-moons etched themselves into his skin in long lines, the other went back to support himself, slipping from the oil in his palm. A fluid motion, his hips grinding against the other’s, and his head tipped back, gasping with wide, glistening black eyes.

“No -- fuck -- no, I d-don’t. Maybe not the-- the time for stories, ne?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

seongxjae:

There was a stranger in his domain - a stranger who obviously knew Gunner, but that didn’t keep him from eyeing the male as one might a mildly interesting bug under a microscope. Would Gunner be terribly angry with him if he gave this one the boot? “Who are you?” Seong-Jae repeated the question, this time adding more bite to his tone, if only as a precaution against negligence where one’s questions were concerned. 

“Please tell me he didn’t adopt you too … “ Sometimes, Gunner was too nice for his own good. Maybe that was why his men followed him without hesitation … 

… or maybe he had the numerous bloodstains to thank for that.

The other didn’t seem to be in any sort of a panic, and with a slow, groggy blink, Winston found himself yawning. He reached into the fridge again, finding an unmarked gallon of milk, and uncapped it, tipping it against his mouth without taking his eyes off of the cat in the doorway. He knew that face well.

Milk dribbling off his bottom lip, he caught it with the back of his hand, capping the milk and shoving it where it came from.

A faint snort, and he shook his head. “Nah, man. I grew up with Gunner. Name’s Winston, I’m sorta couch-hopping ‘til I get my own place.”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

The hard press of something into him, of Gunner, and teeth against his skin was powerful, flushing his cheeks a dark colour. Hands fluttering to pull around the back of the other’s neck, his toes clenched tight, a groan spilling free.

His spine arched involuntarily, panting as heat collected under his skin, but he tried to keep his mind clear. A gasping, open kiss pressed against Gunner’s mouth, and his thumb swept over his cheek. “You’re not gonna hurt me, don’t worry.” Another kiss, needier this time, and he whimpered, as if begging the other to continue. The fear that the cats might walk in was there, but it wasn’t important now. All that mattered was Gunner.

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

Scooting himself as far off the edge as he could without losing support, and rolling to just the right angle, his eyes flickered before the unreal sight between them and the other’s own dark eyes. Control fell to him then for the moment, and Winston swallowed hard, parting himself with a soft sigh.

He guided Gunner then, until he found feel the sensitive touch, and slow, aching slip of the other into him. His mouth hung open with a groan, nails digging into the other’s back. Korean swears came even faster than English ones. “Nimiral. Okay. Okay. It’s-- just what you’re used to from here. Okay.”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

The answer was unhelpful, and Winston gave his friend -- no, no, what was he now? Lover? -- a blank look, interrupted only by the feeling of being pulled open. He made the decision promptly on his own, hefting up onto the short counter behind himself easily, and pushing away the carton of ice cream and the pack of beers. They could wait. The oil landed cold on his hand, but warmed fast between his fingers.

He groped for the other’s cock once more, pumping his hand across his flesh and sealing their mouths once more. Anticipation had already curled his toes, and his free hand searched almost blindly for Gunner’s hand.

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

It was something he had never expected to live through. A feeling of overwhelming heat, of pure nudity before Gunner of all people, with his hands free to roam on his body, and where it was freeing, it was also terrifyingly powerful. 

“F-fuck,” he gasped. He hadn’t thought to bring anything remotely usable, but frantic, needy eyes landed on the olive oil near him, some of the fancy, pure kind he knew that Gunner never skimped on for quality. Chest heaving, he hesitated, drawing his fingers up the other’s abdomen. “Do you want me facing you? Or do you want it easy?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

Gasping in his own manner, he kept his grip, working the other’s length and pulling his boxers out of the way. As his own jeans were slid from his skin, nearly bare thighs exposed to the cold air, though, a small whimper softened his lips. 

“Jesus,” he huffed, open lips ghosting over the other’s collarbone. His dark eyes were swimming, searching in a sea of fresh hormones and wants for Gunner’s eyes. “Didn’t expect you to be so hard already.” 

No less, he sought the other’s mouth, tongue sweeping Gunner’s bottom lip and pulling it between his teeth for only a second. “You sure about this, Gyeong-ah?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

“Shut up about the cats.”

A whimper, a sigh, and he grinned against Winston’s skin. Slicking his tongue across the flesh he had just abused, Gunner drew kiss after kiss along the line of his throat. Hands falling from from shoulders to hips, they hesitated there for a moment before slipping slowly down the back of Winston’s pants, fingertips leaving a sharp trail. 

Gunner kissed that mouth though, licked at his lips.

“Start telling me how to fuck you.”

A shiver drew down his spine at the harsh sharpness of the other’s fingers. He wasn’t exactly a teacher, at least not for things that weren’t traditionally taught, but he didn’t need much convincing. 

Pulling his own shirt over his head, it dropped to the floor, flat abdomen carved by the muscles he’d worked so hard to maintain. Bruises and scars freckled his skin, remnants from his most recent scuffles with Stratox, but, momentarily breathless, his chest heaved, looking up at the other between the messy copper strands of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. 

Pressing soft kisses to the other’s mouth, he stood up a bit straighter, fingers slipping under the band of Gunner’s boxers. Careful as he could be, he found purchase on sensitive flesh, slowly snaking the tips of his fingers across it and the soft skin of Gunner’s thighs.

“I prob’ly should’ve guessed you like to talk dirty.”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

They swayed, nearly dancing in place, and Gunner felt light with the motion of it. And with Winston’s mouth on his throat, he tilted his head back, a soft, exhaled moan fluttering free from his lips. His fingers tightened on Winston’s shoulders, holding the other close, and Gunner blinked at the ceiling. 

“No, no don’t tell me that, Hyungi.” Shaking his head, displacing the others mouth, Gunner dipped his head then until he could find Winston’s gaze. “I won’t want to stop.”

As if to prove his point, he leaned close, drawing his teeth across the delicate skin of his throat. His eyes narrowed on the mouth shaped bruise that greeted him, and he huffed before setting to replace it with one of his own.

Strange, he thought, how after such a mess of emotion his very mind could ache. But the thought was drowned out by a sudden wave of warmth, a tingling burn where Gunner’s mouth touched sensitive skin. The bruise there, he knew, it was someone else’s hand, from a fight he’d narrowly won, and a bruise he’d asked for in a hook up, just trying to hide the darkness of it from Gunner.

Teeth digging into his skin, though, that was something he didn’t quite expect, something rougher than he thought Gyeongja would go for, and his fingers dug into the fabric of the other’s shirt. “Are you sure?” Winston whimpered, one hand going out to brace himself on the counter, his neck bare. “Wh-what about the cats?”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

Another sound fell from his lips, just as startled and high as the last one had been. Gunner moved forward with bare feet against the kitchen floor as he was pulled. He didn’t know what to do with his arms for a moment, before looping them over Winston’s shoulders. 

He felt his body heat in a way it hadn’t before another person, and pressed as close as they were, there would be no denying his reaction. So Gunner flushed, even as he pressed kiss after kiss to Winston’s mouth, fingertips tangling in his soft hair. 

“This a bad time to say that I’m…that I’ve not done this, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” Winston echoed, his mouth hanging open slightly as it dragged across the other’s. His brow furrowed, as if confused, as if he’d barely been in the moment. “Done--?”

Then, the thought clicked into his mind, and he realized what the other meant. Gossip was something that flowed readily through their veins, and each knew something of the other’s conquests, even if one’s was vastly over stated. The moment that he understood then, a soft chuckle spilled from his throat, and he shook his head, peppering kisses up the other’s neck and swaying with him.

“No, Gyeong-ah. I’m just...sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed, I guess. No, nothing you don’t wanna do or aren’t ready for or whatever.”

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

If it were anybody else, Gunner would have killed them for such a thing. Lying among his ranks was intolerable, something he simply wouldn’t stand for, and yet- Winston was different. 

“You know what I do to liars.” He murmured, soft spoken words and fathomless eyes. Sweeping his thumb along the cut of Winston’s jaw, Gunner hummed. “You’ve always been special though.”

“Don’t tell me that, I might never stop.”

As if to prove his point, he pushed up from where he had fallen back to sit, bracing a hand on Winston’s shoulder to give himself a bit of leverage as he kissed him once more. 

“I know.” It was a truth he had more than once considered, but he had always supposed, if Kwangseok would not defend him, a death by Gunner’s hand would be a death well spent.

But it was strange, how it felt as if fire could dance across his lips now, how even his shame and guilt and intoxicated fear ebbed away. He didn’t want to call it love, no, that wasn’t what it was and it couldn’t ever be -- but somewhere, beyond the hardened walls of his heart, he knew that was wrong. 

Lips pushing up against Gunner’s, his eyes flickered shut. Tentative hands pulled at the skin of his hips just above his boxers, just wanting him closer, close enough to feel more of the warmth he had missed from their childhood. There was so much that he wanted now, so much he shouldn’t have, but damn it, it’d been so long.

[drwinstonkim-blog]

gun-runner-choi:

The hard press of a mouth against his drew a startled, high sound from his throat, and Gunner blinked before leaning into the sensation. Except, then Winston pulled away from him, spoke apologies that he didn’t want or need to hear, and Gunner sighed. 

“I think I’ll always forgive you.”

Winston had kissed him in return, and that made it alright to press their mouths together again, didn’t it?

“Can I kiss you again?”

“You probably shouldn’t forgive me,” Winston murmured, his grip tightening slightly, though the rest of him sagged, shoulders drooping. “I lied to you for so long. Seven years, and before I moved to Vegas, I hadn’t actually been to a club more than three times. All this stupid shit...”

With a deep sigh, he tried a smile, heart thudding heavily. “Yeah. No more asking. Just...do it, whenever.”