#thread: mikhail

[fairytaletold]

@smcrtcss // continued

he always wonders what it must feel like: to be so cool and badass and confident. chung-hee is all of these things — and more, so much more than he could ever hope to be. of course he's not scared. it's a silly question. he's not really sure why he even asked it, except that he was curious what the secret could be, maybe hoping to emulate it for himself and be a little less like...... like this. scared, and sad, and nervous for a man that doesn't need the concern for his well being.

it's not even a big deal, he'd said. this was just a precaution. and even though every tiny part of him is screaming at the thought of being sent back, he obeyed. i mean, of course he obeyed. disappeared to pack his things immediately, though maybe he's dragged his feet a bit. maybe that's why chung-hee showed up in his room, singular brow arched.

“oh. yeah, I.... I guess so.” a moment of pensive thought; then he's hurriedly waving his hands, stricken. “no, not — not that I disagree! you are better! of course you shouldn't be scared!" but his answer wouldn't help mikhail to be more brave. he turns and zips the suitcase shut, more out of necessity than anything: he's tearful now, hiding it with a ducked head and golden hair shading his eyes. “I— I'm almost ready. I just need a sec, but — I'll be right down.”

[fairytaletold]

@yxkanna “Well, is that everything you hoped for?”

He can’t look the man in the eyes. He can’t! It’s bad enough that the memory comes slipping back at the merest reference, sinuous as a lover’s touch in his mind. A man in front of him — and him, strapped down — unzipping the dark, professional pants that everyone in Chung-hee’s employ wore. With a face he’s seen day in and day out ever since coming to this country, but never this certain expression, not as Mikhail opened his mouth to take him in —

That’s right — you like that, don’t you?

Oh, god. Mikhail can feel it. He knows his cheeks have gone scarlet, embarrassment written there for him to see. Knows, too, that there’s no way out from this: if Chung-hee asks a question, then he damn well wants an answer to it, and no amount of waiting in shame is going to make him change his mind.

“I….” His voice trembles, shakes (like the way it did as he moaned last night, voice catching with each ragged inhale——) STOP! “I, um — it — it was. It was, yes — thank you! Thanks for ——- that!” And he snaps the sentence off there, catching the continuous string of his thought before he can embarrass himself any further. He still hasn’t managed to meet Chung-hee’s stare, but god, he can feel the attention. It’s a physical touch roaming his skin; the hairs on his neck prickle from it.

“Actually I — I think I’m gonna go take a walk —!”