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bring your body baby i could bring you fame (NC-17)

title: bring your body baby i could bring you fame pairing: Luhan/Kyungsoo genre: smut rating: nc-17 author’s note: ~2k. this is legit just porn. soft, pretty porn, but porn still. title taken from the weeknd’s “wicked games”

lj link here. aff link here.

Kyungsoo’s hips align with the male’s, pale skin against pale skin, and he sucks in lungfuls of air, head spinning and balance off-center. The world isn’t stable beneath his feet but there’s a bed behind him and he digs his fingernails into the giving flesh of the stranger’s ass and drags him with him as he falls onto the mattress. It’s harder than he had expected but not as uncomfortable as a bathroom stall would have been or the darkened alleyway behind the club that Kyungsoo had rejected, and he hooks a leg over a hip, uses his strength to pull the pretty-faced man he’d come home with even closer.

They’re both intoxicated, the smell of alcohol strong on their breath, their tongues, their mouths, but Kyungsoo likes it like this, likes it to where they only remember that anything had happened because of the bruises that are littered across their skin, and he lets out a low moan, smooth voice catching at the end when a hand rakes itself down his torso. He pushes upwards, shifts so that his cock brushes against the man’s, and then he’s moving slowly, a steady rhythm that’s barely enough to give either of them any pleasure as he grinds against the stranger. Kyungsoo lifts his hands, presses them against firm, toned shoulders, and uses them to anchor himself, to give him something real and concrete to hold onto as the world spins in and out of focus.

They’d shed their clothes quickly, almost the exact moment they’d stepped into the man’s home, and Kyungsoo, for once, hadn’t had any trouble slipping someone out of their skin-tight jeans. The man is experienced, he notes in his haze, but the actual thought is gone as soon as soft lips and teeth are gliding along his earlobe and something is being whispered against the shell of his ear.

“What?” he manages to choke out, too caught up in the heat that’s spreading through his limbs and leaving an attractive flush trailing down his neck, and the word is repeated again but it’s not one he recognizes. It sounds foreign, pretty almost, lilting and melodic, and it takes a few more seconds for him to realize that it’s a name.

“Luhan..?” he tests, drunken tongue fumbling messily on the syllables as drunken hands fumble messily with his thighs and there’s a soft grunt of approval that sounds above him before his legs are being spread. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth, worries it until he fears it may bleed, then releases it.

“Kyungsoo,” he breathes out in reply and strong hands smooth down the backs of his legs to press them down so that he’s fully exposed. It’s spoken in return, a soft, barely there “Kyungsoo,” that sounds much sweeter than it has any right to and the man—Luhan— releases one of his legs in favor of brushing his index finger along the rim of his entrance.

Kyungsoo stiffens, jolts in surprise because it had been unexpected, but then relaxes again, body going pliant as Luhan continues to drag the pads of his fingers against him. It’s too little, too slow, too antagonizing and he swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing, before he speaks up. “Please,” he says and it sounds less desperate than it should, but Kyungsoo is strong and begging for something he knows that he’ll be getting anyways makes him squirm with discomfort.

Weakness is not something he displays easily.

But Luhan continues with his teasing, his gentle touching and Kyungsoo’s jaw clenches as a whimper rises in his throat. This is a game to Luhan, it seems, a test to see how much this flushed, small man in his bed can handle before snapping, and a drunken Kyungsoo is much less patient than a sober one—and he’s very seldom patient without alcohol burning through his blued veins. So it’s a given that he breaks easily, turns to using his silken words to get what he wants.

“Luhan,” he murmurs and his swollen lips curl around the name as sloppily as before, but his voice is liquid, warm and melted as it falls from his mouth, a weapon that he wields with prowess. “Luhan. Fuck me.” It’s slurred and still far from begging but it seems to do the trick because the other male slides down his body and leans away to dig through his bedside table. Kyungsoo pushes himself up on two hands, palms flat against the clean, once pristine sheets and watches with hooded, dark eyes as Luhan slicks two, three fingers up. He isn’t left waiting for long and Luhan’s clean hand slides up the expanse of his torso, dips into the gentle valleys of the spaces between his ribs before he’s pressing him down carefully by his chest and slipping a finger into Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo moans, quiet and airy and so very low, and Luhan works him open carefully. He presses his finger in deeper, tight heat enveloping the digit easily, drawing it in until all that’s left to do is press a second one in, and when he does, Kyungsoo fists a hand in his hair. It’s still not enough for the smaller male, but it’s more than before and he can’t complain as Luhan’s breath washes against the heated skin of his inner thighs while he stretches him wide. They don’t talk—Kyungsoo too busy swimming in the pleasure and Luhan too focused on his task—and the silence hangs between them. It’s not heavy, not awkward by any definition of the word, and when Luhan finally fits a third finger in alongside the other two, Kyungsoo is just at the edge of pleading.

He doesn’t though and Luhan’s digits crook inside of him, curl up until Kyungsoo can feel his fingertips pressed against his walls, and he thrashes, jaw going slack as he begins to rock his hips down. Luhan twists his wrist, twists his fingers until Kyungsoo gurgles and then he’s sliding them out, leaving Kyungsoo empty and needy.

Kyungsoo says nothing still, just peers up at Luhan with a heaving chest and wide, dilated eyes, and when Luhan meets his gaze, he drowns in the brown of the man’s irises. Luhan shifts closer, slips between Kyungsoo’s spread thighs and uses the remaining lubrication on himself before he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock to Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo steels himself, bites down on his tongue because Luhan is warm and heavy and right there as he pushes in, and when he finally slides in, inch by inch, Kyungsoo’s fuzzy mind clears until all he can focus on is the searing heat that’s filling him and leaving him gasping for air. Luhan watches between them, studies the way Kyungsoo’s body sucks him in like a thirsting man that’s just found water, and he groans, the sound thick with hazy desire, before he’s canting forward.

Kyungsoo doesn’t resist, only opens wider for him, and when he finally adjusts, he hisses up at Luhan.

“Move.”

It’s one syllable and it’s the only one he needs because Luhan does as he’s told. He drags himself out until only the tip of his arousal is holding Kyungsoo open, and then he fucks back in with so much force that Kyungsoo cries out, eyes flying open and fingers digging angry lines into Luhan’s skin. Luhan does it again, holds himself steady as he moves as slowly as possible, and Kyungsoo curls his fingers so that his nails press deeper into the pale flesh beneath them as a warning. Don’t you dare go slow, he seems to say, expression dark and drunk, and he lifts his own hips to make his point.

It’s then that Luhan snaps his body forward again, one, two, three times until he’s setting a pace for the both of them, and Kyungsoo’s mouth seeks his out. It’s dirty and messy and rushed, but as Luhan rocks into him with sharp movements, Kyungsoo finds that he needs this, this grounding to keep himself from floating away, from losing himself too quickly in ecstasy.

They fit well together, slender bodies pressed flush against one another, and Kyungsoo whimpers into the cavern of Luhan’s mouth when warm skin brushes against his overly sensitive cock. There’s not enough room between them for him to slip a hand down to curl around himself and Luhan seems to understand this because he leans back and circles his own digits around Kyungsoo’s heavy, purpling cock to stroke him in time with his hips.

He’s rising to that ledge, climbing up, up, up until he’s standing right over the edge, staring down at the drop that’s to come, and Luhan leans over to mouth incoherent things against his neck. Teeth scrape along his skin, tug at it until small marks blossom and Kyungsoo is so, so close. Heat spreads through him and he rolls his hips to meet Luhan thrust for thrust, and when Luhan’s rhythm grows erratic, lost in the battle to find that precipice, Kyungsoo lets out a startled moan.

Luhan is at just the right angle, brushing into the soft spot that leaves Kyungsoo seeing stars, and Kyungsoo tenses, lower abdomen going taut as everything in him coils before bursting. White flashes behind his lids, blinds him as he finally falls, and he’s plunging down, orgasm wracking through every inch of his body with fervor as Luhan continues to stroke him. He tightens around Luhan, an immediate reaction to the numbing pleasure that boils beneath his skin, and suddenly, he’s too sensitive to the touches to his cock and shoves unseeingly at the other male.

Luhan whimpers above him, hips stilling before he’s forcing himself out of Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo is about to tell him no, that’s not what he meant before he catches the glazed, almost crazed glint in Luhan’s eyes. Luhan is close, it’s obvious, and he slides out quickly, lips parted in a silent moan, and there’s not even enough time to wrap a hand around himself before he too is coming, spilling white onto the dip of Kyungsoo’s pelvis. His body trembles, limbs shaking with the effort to hold himself up as blood rushes in his ears, and finally, he rolls, collapsing onto the bed next to Kyungsoo, spent and panting. They stay like this for a few moments, silence blanketing them, and the only thing Kyungsoo can hear is the fast thumpthumpthump of his own heart in his chest and Luhan’s labored breath right next to his ear.

It takes him time to gather the strength and will to push himself up onto the bed, and when he does, Luhan eyes him curiously. They’ve still yet to speak again and Kyungsoo, although still very intoxicated, knows that he should leave; they’ve had their fun and he’s not one to milk the experience for more than it’s worth and create tension that’s easier avoided than not. He nods at Luhan, a ‘thank you’ of sorts, and stumbles off of the bed to search for his boxers.

Before he makes it too far, though, there’s a hand at his wrist and a pretty face looming in closer to his.

“Stay,” Luhan says in his barely accented Korean and Kyungsoo shoots him an incredulous look. Luhan laughs when he catches it and shakes his head.

“You’re drunk. Go home in the morning.”

Kyungsoo weighs the pros and cons of this, balances between the two sides of the argument in his head before he decides that maybe, just maybe, this almost stranger is right. He can return home the next morning.

So he allows himself to be led back into the warm bed, and after Luhan cleans the both of them, he’s lulled to sleep by the sound of the other’s breathing as he succumbs to slumber’s prying fingers.

#kyungsoo #luhan #e;fic #hansoo #kyunghan