Not found.

[jdxcd]

key-xcd:

A sharp exhale escaped him at the sudden attack, his stomach clenching (whether pleasantly or unpleasantly, he wasn’t so sure) at the sight of that stupid, stupid face with that stupid, stupid grin hovering inches above his own. He’d been in this position many times before, with many people, people who were complete strangers to him, and not once had he felt as vulnerable as he did now, pinned down by determined hands and an equally determined stare; he never felt vulnerable, he hated feeling vulnerable, and he hated JD for making him feel anything near it.

His eyes narrowed, and he wished the daggers he was glaring up at the other male were real and tangible and deadly. His voice was dangerously low to match.

"You either pay up or get off me, or I’m calling the cops."

It was all supposed to be a joke, as was anything JD would ever do. It started off as a joke when he teased playfully at the suggestion of a challenge-- specifically making it so that Key would fall for the 'JD charm'. "You don't know what you don't know what you want." He stupidly started off, his signature goofy ear to ear grin curving plump lips as mischief filled his thoughts. When the little looks and smirks weren't having much effect (that he visually couldn't see, anyway), he moved onto skinship. When that failed, his little joke turned into full determination.

"Call them then." A simple reply, voice low, yet full of concentration. It almost came off as a threat, though, tightening his grip around the blond's wrists didn't help make it seem as if it were anything else if the sort. He knew he was stronger than Key, no doubt. It were that fact and the man's threat that pulled a confident smirk from the dealer.

"Kitten. . ." He calls out with a chuckle; his naturally playful approach turning sadistic as he knew how much Key hated that petname. He doesn't finish the thought. Delving his head into the indentation of his collar bone, he plants a small kiss at the base. Tasting the blond's skin (which was sweeter than he imagined), he slowly drags his tongue along the unmarked flesh of the escort's neck. A low shameless groan heating wherever he touched-- the sudden attack of pearly whites sinking into milky skin causes tightening hands to only tighten their grip.

Rising slightly with the other's breath, he removes his lips, chuckling happily. "Oops, I have no idea what came over me." He teased, as if he didn't know. "Should I kiss it better, kitten?"

[satyr-ic]

140614 Apgujeong fansign © Spring Rain | full size | do not remove watermark | do not edit

[dcolorada]

[caritomonclou-deactivated201607]

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

"Yeah well it’s the right word," he retorts automatically, his normal self seemingly working its way through the thickening fog in his mind. But only for a short period of time before that voice is invading his psyche once again, low baritone curling around him like teasing fingertips, more tender and deliberate and tantalizing than even his most adoring clients and it’s been so long since he’s felt genuine desire pooling at the pit of his stomach, desire he doesn’t have to fake, desire he doesn’t have to pretend is real to convince himself he isn’t miserable. It’s real and it’s unraveling his control and that scares him.

He can. He can absolutely feel rough but careful hands on his skin, can feel the warmth of another body radiating against his own, can see that stupid smug smile in the dark, feel hushed, taunting words against hypersensitive skin. But he refuses to. He reaches into his practiced world of pretend and does his best to convince himself he doesn’t feel any of it, that his body is numb to the advances of the customer whispering in his ear, until he feels more capable of manipulating his own emotions, forcing them back until they’re a secret only known by him, overridden by whatever facade he chooses. It’s backwards now, because his instinctive reactions are positive, his rare breed of pleasure no one’s tapped into for ages and instead of faking enjoyment, he has to suppress it.

But he can’t see him. He realizes that when he shivers, a small unexpected thing that wracks his slender frame without warning. He realizes he can enjoy every minute without JD ever being the wiser. And already his hand is trailing down his half-exposed abdomen, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth in anticipation of the contact. He inhales sharply when he finally takes himself in hand, but he’s careful to hold the phone away when he does, forever suppressing the moan fighting for escape at the back of his throat.

"No." His voice is low, steady, indicative of the defiant smirk he’s wearing in the dark, stroking himself languidly and still not making any move to hang up the phone. "Fuck off."

[jdxcd]

He was losing himself. Falling into his own firm caresses, he was losing himself in the moment. It was a fair balance; most of his pleasure resonating from the physical contact -- as he now releases himself from the stuffy confines of the fabrics that stayed tapped at his hip -- the other half coming from mental imagery, imagination running wild as he couldn’t stop the thoughts. Not that he wanted to, anyway. It was simply out of his control. His mind painting scenes of Key’s arousal, albeit his lack of responsiveness. It was an advantage for JD having such an active imagination.

It was a struggle, trying to hold onto everything. It seemed to happen so fast. Stillness of the opposite end only leaving his mind to slip more. Thoughts that had him pondering, once again, what exactly Key thought of this all as the man both shamefully and shamelessly pours his apparent want for the man over the phone. Thoughts wondering why exactly why he hadn’t hung up just yet-- wondering if his reluctant confession of his want of the dealer had something to do with it. He was close to almost forgetting why he had let this go as far as it already were? Why did he call again? A thought he knew were best to just shrug off. He were already thinking too much, and yet, his thinking too erratic to focus on anything else that wasn’t his hand and the alluring (and threatening) coos through the receiver.

“. . . Kitten. .”

The pet name slips once more, naturally. A satisfyingly agonizing stroke causing a breath to collapse erratically, voice faltering almost helplessly.

“Do you feel me, Kitten? Kitten. . . .” he stills his voice once more, keeping silent as he adjusted again. The sounds of fabrics brushing against fabric. Fabric brushing against bare flesh. Ridding himself of the annoying cotton bottoms. A laxed hand resting over convulsing muscles as the other worked diligently.

“Kitten. . . I want to hear you. . . I want to hear you feeling good. . . Kitten. . . I. . . I--”

An bothered inhale cuts through. An even more distressed exhale racking the dealer’s being.

“I need you, Kitten. . . I need you. . . so fucking bad. . .”

[key-xcd]

God, you’re an idiot. {` he mumbles, subconsciously reaching up to adjust his bangs over his eyebrows, a slight scowl knitting his brow when his eyes meet the other’s because what the hell is he staring at } Yah, of course they’re nice. I’m me. What else would they be? {` he doesn’t know why he’s defending himself, since he couldn’t care less about this entire conversation, so he subdues his internal conflict on the matter with another swig from the bottle; when he’s setting the tequila on the table (with care, considering his currently struggling depth perception) he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, a jacket being shed, a contour-hugging wife beater, and maybe, just maybe, he’s feeling the sudden increase in temperature as well } - {` his eyes automatically travel down tones biceps, forearms, a hand tented under black fabric giving a peek at more bare skin; his tongue, still carrying the lingering taste of tequila, darts out to wet his lips and he almost misses the other’s words completely } What? {` he clears his throat, his eyes snapping up to the man’s face, expression (hopefully) giving nothing away } What promise?

[jdxcd]

{'it was like the room was on fire, his face contorts from complete discomfort, the source being the fabrics that clung to his body to what seemed to be too snugly} Fuck. . . its so hot. {'tugging from beneath the tank, he fans himself with the fabric, finding somewhat of relief as a delighted sigh passes thick lips; head lulling to the side as he closed his eyes as he alleviated himself} What promise? ['he repeats back, sounding as if he too had no recollection of one ever being made; he keeps fanning, smiling to himself} You. . . you you. . call me an idiot, but you already forgot, didn't you? {'gravity begins to turn against him as he tried his best to just look in the man's direction; but having it being he already consumed double than what he knew he should have, it wasn't entirely his fault for collapsing into the blond's lap-- head rested with a glossy gaze turned up, he drunkenly smiles as he reached for the man's face, never really succeeding in touching it} Sooooooo pretty. {'he unawaringly voices subconscious thoughts} So pretty. . . yet, soooooooo dense. Our promise. . . you promised me staying the night. . . {'he shuts his eyes, the same drunken smile spreading even wider as he aimlessly points at the man, incidentally shoving his finger into his cheek} and that I can kiss you all I want. 

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

He tries his best to shut out the onslaught of sounds attacking his senses, telling breaths entering through his ears and invading his conscience. It’s suddenly overwhelming, his imagination working through the evidence of the situation easily, creating pictures in his mind he never thought in a million years he’d want to see. It’s even there when he shuts his eyes against the dimness of his bedroom, complete lack of tangible visibility only clicking on his auditory senses full gear, immersing him in imagery of JD sitting right behind him, broken sighs caressing his skin thermally, tangibly, rather than as simple air waves across a satellite feed.

"Yah, who gave you permission to do that?" He attempts to retort, mentally cursing because his own voice is coming out hushed and breathy and he blames his half-asleep state for his sudden lack of self-control. Maybe he’s still asleep. Maybe this is a dream. He can’t decide if that’s better or worse.

"Stop," he utters faintly, because that stupid pet name is really so stupid, and yet the way it sounds tumbling from those hated lips and penetrating his psyche makes it feel like all the blood in his head is being displaced somewhere far more invested in this interaction. "Stop calling me that." But his already unconvincing words seem to go ignored as the strained whispered words continue tortuously.

"I’d like…" to go back to sleep, to forget this ever happened and go back to loathing your entire existence. He slowly falls back against his pillows, sheets feeling like a vice tangled around sensitive skin. "I want you to…" go away, to hang up and leave me alone because you’ll ruin everything, and nothing makes sense with you and I don’t trust you and God, "I want you."

His eyes shoot open. Did he just say that out loud? Into the phone? Into intermittent weak and teasing breaths he should be immune to by now? Right into JD’s ear where there’s no pretending it didn’t happen? The most logical thing to do is to hang up, to end this here and now. But he doesn’t hang up. Of course he doesn’t hang up, and he’ll regret it when he wakes up tomorrow morning hating himself for it. So he settles for blaming JD for the entire matter instead, still trying and failing to hide the bothered tones in his own voice.

"I hate you."

[jdxcd]

Almost everything is missed. Parts of the reason being is the frenzy his mind slips into. The touches becoming more intimate as images of porcelain skin and lithe limbs tangling in his sheets fill his thoughts in between the silence. A breath hitching. Body quaking uncontrollably. He ignores his request, finding it more provoking rather than taunting.

“Kitten. . .”

He goes at it again.

“Kitten. . .”

His volume diminishing bit by bit every time he repeats.

“Ki. . . K-Key. . .”

He chokes his name out a little harsher than intended. He doesn’t hold back the shudder that erupts through still silence, either. Somehow his boxers managed to slip a bit off his hips-- not that he didn’t mind.

“I’d like. . .”

Tell me you want me. . .

”I want you to. . .”

Tell me you want me. . .

“I want you.”

He said it. As much as JD hoped, he actually said it. Even his eyes flutter open in surprise; ‘Did he really just say that?’ For a second, a split second, his doubts advise him otherwise. Making it seem as if he were only imagining things, because there was just no way he could have succumbed so. . . easily-- of course, with previous encounters in mind. Was his teasing actually getting to him? Was he. . . liking this?

He slows, pondering if he could push him a bit more. Wondering how far could this go.

“Hate is a passionate word. . .” he finally relays back in a breathy chuckle. “Key. . . can you feel me? Can you feel my hands?” Eyes fluttering backs hut, he zones in, concentrating on himself as he fell into his gentle caresses. In his head he pictures the blond. Laying before him. His hand tucked away under his undergarments rather his own. Imagination running wild as it paints its idea of what Key must have looked like flustered. Wanting. Letting JD please him completely. He feels himself stiffen from the thought of it all.

“Do it for me. . . Key. . . touch it for me. . .”

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

"Kitten…"

He recognizes that tone, low and ragged, and it goes straight to his core, his own breath momentarily halted in his throat. He stares unseeing into the darkness of his room, ears straining for any sound past the faint, teasing sound of shifting covers. Not a second later and a deep groan greets him through the receiver, only it sounds like he’s right there with him, next to him, almost as if he could turn around where he lay and be face to face with the owner of the strained voice on the other line.

"Kitten…"

It might as well be synonymous with his name the way it rolls so easily off his tongue, somewhere in that fragile zone between gentle and rough and really Key should be used to that tone by now, hears it every day, falling from the lips of married men against smooth pale skin. But there it is again: ‘if it were anybody else.’ But he’s not anyone else, apparently. He’s lost in his musings, his subconscious contemplation of the voice uttering dangerous suggestions in his ear, and he nearly misses the man’s next words.

"Yah, are you-?" He sits up instantly, covers pooling around his waist, thin cotton scoop neck falling off his shoulders, blonde tresses falling messily over his eyes. He manages to keep his voice steady, slightly scolding even, supporting himself on his free hand, and wishes he’d gone through the effort of turning down the thermostat because his covers feel absolutely stifling. "What are you doing right now?"

[jdxcd]

Between his obvious intentions of the silence and his will forming a mind of its own, it was becoming hard for him to remember that he were only doing this to mess with him, initially. But hell, he couldn’t lie, somewhere within his subconscious, he really fucking wanted him. Badly. Somewhere in the limbo in his mind, the thoughts of what exactly the other on the receiving end must have been imagining fills his mind. What could Key be thinking of? With nothing but the hushed sighs and shuffling of fabrics sounding off in still silence, what exactly was he seeing in his mind? JD dragging wanting hands along lean muscles? Hooded lids fluttering in the heat of implied self pleasure; soft touches caressing his body he obviously knew better than any other person? Could he even possibly, even for a second, imagined those wanting hands working instinctively-- those hands moving with the thought of caressing the blond instead?

He let himself fall into it so easily. He was never like this. A hook up or two, fine; but the complete unconditional want of having someone to please completely? Thoroughly? Carefully, refusing leaving any spot of milky white flesh unkissed. He never had someone get at him like this, especially one that showed such distaste in what JD was all about. But maybe it wasn’t JD who were feeling all of these things. Maybe it wasn’t JD that somehow managed to trail his hand past the elastic band of his cotton boxer briefs, taking a hold of himself, playing a game with himself as he tried his best to keep still. Soft bothered sighs only slipping in response to the man’s suspicions.

“. . . What do you think?” he manages to finally relay back in a hushed matter-of-factly breath. Brows knit together in frustration; why was he doing all of this? How did it even start? And damn it, what could Key be picturing even? He doesn’t take the time, though, to answer his own questions. He were already building a rythmn. Only teasing touches compared to the more pleasurable strokes he willed himself from acting out so soon. He slowly kicks the covers off-- when did they become so uncomfortably hot?

“Kitten. . . . Kitten. . .” he softly whispers as he both shamefully and shamelessly caves in to the want, blood hot, slowly bringing him to attention as a wanting palm works at its best. “Kitten. . . you already know. . . so tell me. . . what would you like me to do next?”

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

He scoffs quietly, a sound that probably resonates with a characteristically condescending amusement despite the fact that he’s still half-asleep. “I am special. I don’t need a phone call from a lonely old man to prove it.” It’s not a hostile jab, which surprises even himself. When did he become so casual with this…this intruder who’s so determinedly inserted himself into Key’s life? When did it become okay for him to call him during the wee hours of the morning, and when did Key become okay with answering?

"Wait—"

He hasn’t made any move to end the phone call, but it still kind of feels like time maybe stops for a moment or two. Key can hear his own heartbeat in the silence and he finds himself embarrassingly wondering if JD can hear it too. No, of course not, that would be absurd. He’s not sure what to do with the words uttered softly between staggered breaths, words that would usually have no effect on him whatsoever had it been anyone else. There’s been a lot of that lately. A lot of ‘had it been anyone else.’ JD’s supposed to fit into that category just like the rest of them did. But he won’t, as if every time Key tries to shove him away in that box he defiantly spreads his limbs and makes it impossible and Key feels like he’s losing his mind.

"That’s what they all say," he finally mumbles into the receiver with a small, mischievous smile, rolling over onto his side, because it’s easier to joke about it, easier to act like ‘I’ve been thinking about you’ isn’t still ringing tauntingly in his mind (because maybe he’s been thinking about him too). "You should join the club. I’m sure they have some shrine dedicated to my ass somewhere. Seems like something you’d be into."

[jdxcd]

A scoff of a laugh passes pressed lips. After all the insults and name calling that had just come so naturally since their first meeting, he finds his way of speaking with Dongwoo somewhat. . . adoring. Maybe because he was crazy, but he swore he could feel affection behind the other’s words, despite him grouping him in some weird make believe club that build such a shrine. Maybe he was crazy enough to amuse the idea and play along, but he had already slipped into a role, and he wasn’t going to give in until he knew exactly how the other would respond. He was okay with looking like an idiot. So he continues on, falling silent for about a minute after the blond’s pause.

"Yah. Are you asleep?"

He stays silent, a sly smirk etching its way on thick lips. He doesn’t pay too much mind to his wandering hand slipping under his wife beater.

“Please tell me you did not just fall asleep on me. . . YAH!”

“Kitten. . .” he finally replies, breath rugged and completely bothered.

He falls silent again, the sounds of skin brushing against skin as the hand he slipped away drags across toned abs. The sound of the blankets ruffling could be heard, but nothing more from the man’s lips slipped out other than a long stifled groan.

“Kitten. . .” he whispers again into the receiver, almost too into the act as he feels across his chest. Blood begins to rush from the excitement of it, body heat rising as he treaded dangerous waters.

“I’ve been thinking about you. . . have you been thinking about me?”

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

"Because some of us like to be asleep at 2:30 in the morning," he mumbles grudgingly, followed by a sigh as he rolls onto his back, sheets twisting around his legs. He can’t hear a hint of tiredness in the voice on the other end of the line, and he’s not surprised in the slightest. No, not surprised at all; annoyed might be a better word. "What the hell are you so cheery about at this time of night?" He ponders out loud, reaching up with his free hand to push his bangs out of his eyes, his hand resting warmly on his forehead as he blinks up at the dark-obscured ceiling.

The man’s next words draw another tired groan from his lips, despite the contagious smile he can hear, feel, almost, in his voice. “Is that all?” He replies, stretching out pale legs under paler satin and vaguely wondering where his cat’s run off to. He’s got a long day tomorrow, and he really wants to succumb to the sleep nipping at the back of his eyelids, but the voice chirping at him over the phone has lulled him into a content limbo somewhere between sleep and content relaxation and maybe he’s okay with that. He can almost see the familiar Cheshire grin staring back at him in the dark. Maybe he’s okay with that too.

"I’m hanging up," he declares, though he makes no move to do so other than sinking further into down pillows.

[jdxcd]

"Ah, so they do,” he breathes out softly, fully content. Oblivious to trying to find the realization in his words, he just smiles into the phone. It were just a phone conversation, but he could have sworn, he could almost feel Key’s presence. He could feel the scowl the blond must have been giving him for disturbing him from whatever sleep he managed to already get. It seemed like he must have already been comfortable in the safety of his home, the irritation and groggy mumble he’d breathe through the receiver a big giveaway to the fact. He should have cared, but he really didn't try all that hard to hide the fact that he were more than delighted to be having this moment. He also really didn't know why exactly he were yearning for it, but he wasn't going to think on things he knew he wouldn't understand, even if he were the one for the cause. Everything was at ease now. He could relax better now that he could hear his voice, so soothing to him despite his protest.

"You should feel special though. I don’t just call anyone, didn’t you know?" A fact he was proud of, for whatever reason. He could feel himself straightening his posture a bit where he laid at the statement. All at the same time, though, he wondered why in fact he did call Key with this already known from anyone who knew him. He begun to wonder about a lot of things. What could the man possibly look like in slumber. What his home must have looked like; he assumed it’d be nice, given how he only sported expensive brands and fabrics that his own father often tried to get him into. He wondered what the blond must have worn to sleep. A silk pajama set comes to mind, as it seemed fitting. Unawaringly to the thought, he fidgets a bit, thinking how warm it must have been, since Dongwoo himself were more accustomed to boxers and a t-shirt, if the shirt were even necessary. Without realizing, he wondered, for only a spilt second, he wondered if the man thought about him. Only for a second.

“Wait--”

He softly calls out. Falling silent for a few passing moments, and for whatever reason, an idea crosses his mind. “I. . . I really missed you. . .” he breaths a little heavier into the phone, breath almost bothered. He were only teasing, and he wouldn’t think it’d matter much to Key, but he persists. “Kitten. . . I’ve been thinking about you. .”

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

[key-xcd]

He’s been asleep for five minutes. Maybe ten. He’d had an appointment earlier that evening, and he’d all but collapsed into a bubble bath the moment he got home, soaking away the burdens and grime of the day. Then bed. Warm, soft bed with his slight brown tabby curled up by his feet, down pillows and satin sheets cradling his subtly aching muscles. After a day of entertaining clients at fancy restaurants and dinner parties and hotel rooms, he couldn’t help but look forward to his own clean bed to climb into.

He’d spent a couple hours catching up on his most recent drama with a cup of cocoa, expecting to crawl under his covers and pass out the moment his head hit the pillow.

Only for some reason, despite tiredness coursing through him, the sounds of the city are suddenly incessant, the lights miles away from his high rise window suddenly too bright, and even his feline companion seems to sense his anxiousness, because she hops off the bed with an indignant meow before disappearing to sleep on something far less fidgety.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, occasionally tossing and turning, red clock lights glaring the passing time at him every time he desperately fluffs another pillow. He doesn’t know why he can’t sleep either, and that’s the most bothersome part. 

But he does, eventually, somehow, after tugging his curtains closed over floor-to-ceiling windows and kicking off flannel pajama pants because he’s turned the heat up too high but can’t be bothered with wandering around in the dark for the thermostat.

He’s been asleep for maybe ten, maybe twenty minutes when his phone rings, the generic tinkling tone yanking away from the sought after slumber in an instant. He squints up through the piercing brightness of the phone display, steals a glance at the stupid clock on his nightstand that’s laughing at him because it’s past two in the morning, then groans, swearing under his breath.

He answers anyway, voice low and gravelly with sleep.

"Yah, do you know what time it is?"

[jdxcd]

Riiiiing. Riiiiiing.

The first two rings pass. 

<em>Riiiiiing. Riiiiii--

Oh--

It was his voice. He didn't expect him to answer. In fact, he had a long voicemail he was prepared to leave just for when he'd be greeted by the automated message that indicated he couldn't come to the phone, though of course with the given time, it'd make perfect sense as to why. But he picks up. Suddenly the man's self proclaimed 'wild eyes' widen a bit in surprise, sitting up as he's greeted to a rather groggy version of Key's voice, a smile spreads nontheless.

"Hmm. . . its about 2:30 in the morning, why?" her responds, voice bouncing as it were evident sleep were no where to be found withing the restless man. Though he didn't sound as ecstatic (not like he would have anyway, seeing how it's JD of all people calling him at ungodly hours of the night), it still brings a warming feeling in his core; he actually picked up.

"I miss you," he begins almost teasingly. Though he couldn't see the playful pout that naturally seemed to follow, it were that fact that made his smile grow even brighter. If he couldn't see it, he was sure it could be heard in his voice just how much big his stupid grin must have been. "Did you miss me, yeobo?" 

[jdxcd]

|| Longing & False Pretenses ||

02:15:46 - Home.

He lays in his much-too-large-for-one-person bed, eyes locked on no specific part of the ceiling, the silence of the night fills his being as he loses control over any thought that pops into his mind. 

He couldn't remember the last time he laid in that bed. JD had become more important than Jaesun; there was no need for the lonely apartment when he could be spending his time as another man contrary to what his real self were. It was a beautiful home that certainly went to waste, but whenever he found himself laying in those sheets alone, there was no doubt about it, something was on his mind.

It was his face. That perfect bone structure. The slight scar, kissed on his cheek, reeling through his mind for the tenth time. Defined brows hidden beneath golden locks, something like a signature that stuck out for the darker haired male; he couldn't stop seeing them. 

He was a mess. Questioning 'Why him' when he clearly knew the answer. He had become attached, and there was no getting out of it easy.

After for what seemed like hours of staring, he finally breaks away from the trance the escort he only briefly knew seemed to have put him in. Retrieving his phone from the charger on the nightstand near, he starts off with a text. Laying on his back, he types away.

[sms]: 'Eyebrows' 

Ya. . . talk to me. I can't sleep. 

He gives it a good five minutes before his suspicions from sending the text come to be true: He was ignored.

[sms]: 'Eyebrows'

Ignoring your problems won't solve a thing. You know that, right?

Six more minute go by. Nothing.

"Okay. . . I see how it is."

A mischievous smirk pulls at the male's thick pair of lips as he navigates through the menus, finding the call button next to the 'recent texts' menu. He hits dial, resting back into his nest of pillows. 

[key-xcd]

{` for the first time in as long as he can remember, he’s rendered completely speechless; maybe it’s because he’s suddenly recalling a ten year old memory he’d spent enough time pushing to the back of his mind. maybe because he’d never expected to have this conversation in his entire life, because hearing it out loud makes it that much more impossible to pretend that none of it actually exists. he hates him for this, can feel anger flaring up inside of him, but still, he says nothing, afraid that if he opens his mouth his voice or his words might escape his control and give him away completely } - {` he tears his eyes from the other male, because something in his chest is tightening, and he can’t focus on subduing it, on hiding it behind veiled eyes when there’s another pair staring so intently into his; maybe he should just tell him, tell him everything, tell him starting from 10 years ago and before and after that and everything in between; then there are hands curled around his and he’s trapped and he’s safe and he almost kind of likes it and he hates this most of all; this time he opts for honesty, and though his expression is still, for the most part, stoic and unreadable, maybe there’s the smallest trace of sadness that makes its way through stony brown irises } I haven’t felt anything in a long time.

[jdxcd]

{'he didn't know why he was pushing so much; all he wanted to do was make the man crack a smile, seeing how the fluidity of his insults were frighteningly more frequent other than what JD felt was genuine, he just wanted to get back at him in his own way for the insults, his goal bringing out the best rather than the worst} - {'he didn't expect to feel anything from this, but here he was, holding the man's hand so desperately, an overwhelming feeling overcoming him; was this what concern felt like?} You know what.. . {'he starts slowly, dropping the man's hand, his hold though never letting go, he keeps his gaze down as he had no idea what it was he wanted to happen after this moment - or more so, he wouldn't admit it} Forget the five days. {'a soft, endearing, smile breaks} You can be mine for today, and afterward, I'll keep being your idiot. {'he offers, a soothing thumb gently brushing over slight knuckles; his words on cue as he gently tugs him back in, a hand finding his hip as he pulls him so} So tell me. . . all the things you want to do, or never got to do. I'll do them all with you for one day.

[key-xcd]

{` he automatically steps back when the hold is released, wrapping his arms around his own midsection as if defending himself against any more of the other male’s surprise attempts at invading his personal space; he’s feeling things other than complete control of the situation, and he doesn’t like that. he can’t figure out this guy for the life of him, and he doesn’t like that either. he doesn’t like anything about this situation and yet he’s still here listening to some sort of confession and that’s probably the strangest part of it all } - {` his gaze never leaves the brunet, though he shifts uncomfortably under the weight of solemness his words seem to carry; he doesn’t like the implication, that he’s putting on an act; he doesn’t like someone else talking about it, about any of it; it’s a subject far too personal to be shared with anyone ever, especially with this strange man he still barely knows, whether he claims to ‘get it’ or not } Whatever ‘act’ you’re putting on to cover up your fucked up past, I’m pretty sure I don’t get it. {` his words are icy, likely verging on cruel, but he’d much rather show him this side than the one of his rapidly weakening facade; he doesn’t even notice that he never tugs his hand away from the other’s } I don’t care if I’m ‘yours’ for a few days. Don’t lump me together with you. We’re not the same. 

[jdxcd]

{'he keeps his gaze off the blond, something in him automatically shutting out anything that he knew were insults, but something about the way it being delivered reminding him of why he were the way he were; for a second he regrets, but only for a second} - {'a soft smile soon spreads, gaze still averted} Yeah maybe. {'is all he says, another chuckle of disbelief slipping; he finally turns his gaze back to the blond, expression bleak, he just stares for a few silent moments, collecting all he had to say, wondering if they even made sense to him before relaying} I guess you're right. Right about everything. Maybe you don't get it, and maybe I don't get it either. But just tell me one thing. {'he takes a step closer, not as intimate as before; his bleak expression melting only slightly as brows subtly knit together} What happened 10 years ago, hm? {'he finally asks, pointing to his own cheek where the blond's subtle scar laid} Is that when it started? Or am I just stupid and imagining things? Are you going to give me another excuse? Another lie? Doesn't it get tiring? Aren't you tired of it? {'melting from almost emotionless to what seemed like sorrow, he tries, yet fails, to put on one of his 'classic JD' grins, a pained grin spreading instead; despite his want to obviously keep him out, a hand searches for the man's once again, taking it in both of his, he cradles it to his chest} Just let me make you feel good. As pathetic JD. . . I just want to make you feel something. 

[key-xcd]

{` the rest of the lies are ready on the tip of his tongue, but they vanish the moment lips are pressed to his hand in a gesture so simple yet more tender than he’s seen in years, even among the most adoring of customers, and that throws him off completely;  he’s not sure what to do, growing even more confused when his hand is pressed to a cheek } - {` he doesn’t bother trying to protest this time; he knows it’s useless, even as he allows his arm to be guided around the man’s torso, what little space was left between them decreasing even further; he’s fluid to the physical manipulations until he leans in for another kiss, a deliberate one on a spot key is all too familiar with } - {` he visibly tenses at that, no longer having to feign discomfort, and he turns his head away from the gentle gesture until there’s space between their faces again } More like ten. {` his voice is monotonous, his stoic expression on the verge of cracking with visible signs of emotion; but it quickly turns into a subtly accusatory tone, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes the man’s face for any sign of this being some kind of sick joke } Why are you doing this? Why don’t you just fuck me and get it over with, instead of bothering with all this bullshit? What do you want?

[jdxcd]

{'a jolt surges through the shorter man's being at the question; he hadn't even noticed how far he had taken his initial curiosity, somehow finding himself like this, deep down he knew why it felt so. . . easy falling into it} Why? {'he repeats, his hold dropping almost instantly at that, a turning in his stomach from a bundle of nerves, as if he were the one being assaulted with the prying and tender touches; he sounded just like him} What do I want? {'he parrots, a chuckle of somewhat disbelief passing thick lips} I want to make you feel good, is that a crime? And why am I doing it? {'he exhales another chuckle} I don't know. . . maybe because I don't buy you're act. Maybe because for now, you're mine. . . or maybe. . . {'he trails off in thought, a lump growing in his throat, leaving it uncomfortably dry as he contemplates on taking it there; swallowing hard, he keeps his gaze drifted, aimed at anywhere else other than the blond, he takes his hand once more} Maybe. . . maybe this mine thing is just messing me all up. . . or maybe I just wanted to drop my act for someone who seems to get it.

[key-xcd]

{` his lips fall open slightly when the laugh passes darkly over his skin, as if poised to utter a biting retort that never actually comes out; he subconsciously tilts his head, staring with determined indifference at the ground, set on shutting off his senses to the onslaught of kisses grazing his flesh } That’s not how it works, actually. {` he’s got plenty more biting logic where that comes from, but it slips back into the recesses of his mind when he makes eye contact with the suddenly serious expression on the other’s face, distracting and uncharacteristic, something he’s not prepared for at all; there’s a split second where he hesitates, falters, some small piece of him considering succumbing to whispered words and sweet caresses, because it’s been so long since anyone’s really considered him and his feelings and maybe, just maybe, the man actually cares; but in the same instant he decides against it, and his expression hardens into nothing but a small smirk (hiding the fact that he’s squirming under such an intense gaze) as he tugs his arm back by his side and safe away from the previously restraining grasp } Wednesday. {` It’s a lie, and not one of his smoothest ones, but it’s enough to distract himself from the fact that he can’t remember, that even the thought strikes him with some form of bitterness he refuses to acknowledge. } Next question.

[jdxcd]

{'he didn't know why he kept on persisting; it wasn't supposed to go this far, but there was just something about his seemingly never melting front that reminded him so much of himself} - {'his curiosity that once provoked his actions turn to concern, his gaze never faltering once as he held it like a statue, his caressing hand falling at his words} Oh? {'he asks, almost challenging, a brow raising} Why do I feel like you're lying to me? {'a question he doesn't give him much time to answer as he continues on with his protest} And who made you feel good? And how, hm? {'actions moving fluidly with his inquisitions, he takes the blond's hand in his, the other still planted o his back, as he brought delicate fingers to his lips, pressing chaste kisses on slight knuckles} Was it like this? {'he asks between the first, and now second kiss; he turns the man's hand, he loses himself for a moment, closing his eyes, leaning into his open palm, nestling a cheek in it before giving it another small kiss before turning his gaze back at the other} Or was it like. . .{'tugging a bit from his backside, he guides the hand, eventually tugging on his arm, snaking it around his hip as he eliminated another centimeter of space} this. . . {'releasing the hand, he finds his cheek once more, thumb caressing gently over the subtle scar that laid there, he leans in, placing a sweet kiss over it} Key. . . {'he whispers his name once more right where he were, he plants another small kiss} When did you even get this here? A year ago? Five years ago? 

[key-xcd]

Yeah, actually, I d- {` but he doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before he’s tugged closer, fingers chilled against his bare skin and dark hair brushing his jaw; he feels hushed words ghosting his skin and fingers tracing his spine and the small shiver that wracks him comes too quick for him to suppress it; he tells himself it’s anger he feels when his name escapes those despised lips and brushes his skin, thought it’s probably something else entirely; he unwittingly clenches his jaw, his fingernails curling dangerously into the fabric of the man’s shirt, his throat bobbing with the sudden effort it takes to swallow } I didn’t answer your question because it’s none of your damn business {` he utters in return, grateful his words don’t come out as shakily as he thought they might }

[jdxcd]

{'lips hovering over delicate skin, another soft laugh slips} Don't forget. . . {'he softly starts, fingers returning to where his hand once originated from the sudden touch, an open palm finding his hip, giving it a gentle squeeze as he took no time in doing as he pleased; full lips pressingly sweetly against milky white flesh, a small trail of kisses falling in place as he worked his way to the lining of his jaw, stopping the little teasing gestures} You're mine. Whatever concerns you, concerns me. {'pulling back to finally get a look at his reaction, he releases his arm; a caressing hand finds a perfectly chiseled cheek, dragging a thumb along adoringly, despite the poisonous insults the other had dealt to the man since their first meeting, he holds him sweetly, brows slightly knit together as stared directly into the man's eyes} So tell me now.  .  . When was the last time someone made you feel good?