this is legit nsfw stuff (I guess??!) about p5 protag please legit actually probably don’t read it
:O
1. his only expressions are basically indifferent and like, the kinda scary face when he calls the persona? let’s take the second one a step further to ahegao. I regret how many times I’ve thought this. actually seeing it would probably give me and everyone else nightmares.
2. in the midst of consensual P5 Protag Good Times his partner c*mes on his glasses. p5-kun tells them they can do it again with a mischievous look in his eyes :,)
mostly old things that I thought during that cursed winter that I was too scardey to say but I forgot I have this Blah
I can’t write (real comprehensive writing like story writing) anymore this is my curse for letting my life go to pieces :,)
I started writing this fic in like 2012 ;____; and I really wanted to finish it but I can't really write anymore I'm so sorry!!!!!!! (;;_____;;)
onew/kyuhyun? tentative nc-17 omg I'm so embarrassed but also sad (. .) I hope to become better in 2014!! wow. also to write finish koze's fic (which I'm near doing!!)
I didn't proofread before posting so expect unfinished thoughts by the bundle and sudden scene changes.
The only reason Kyuhyun says yes is because Minho has been one of his best friends for years.
Kyuhyun has been planning this roadtrip around Korea for years. Between finishing school and working any number of odd jobs as they came to him, he’s had to save up enough for his own car (because the amount his parents will spoil him, too, has limits), as well as every other fee travel was certain to incur with a bit of extra just in case. He’s always seen this trip as his time to reconnect with himself before he loses sight again in the world of adults, but when Minho comes to him with this request, he writes that goal off as having been far too lofty.
“My friend has been having some trouble, lately,” he had said, large eyes looking a bit teary. “Well, for a while.”
“Uh-huh,” Kyuhyun crossed his arms over his chest in a half-considerate, half-defensive gesture.
“I think you’d really like him though. Just let him tag along on your trip, the company would be nice. He’ll split gas and rooms for sure,” he added quickly as an afterthought. When Kyuhyun doesn’t look moved, Minho tagged on with a twinkle in his eyes, “For me, hyung?”
And that’s how Kyuhyun ends up with the solemn Lee Jinki in tow, one duffle bag and far too many layer for summer, his face pressed to the passenger-side window. Kyuhyun would venture conversation, except he sees the thin white lines of Jinki’s earbuds disappearing behind a fold of hair, his long, limp fringe obscuring his eyes.
Jinki seems sensitive and while Kyuhyun isn’t much older he understands; instead of attempting stilted conversation, he turns his attention back to the road, the flat sound of tires on asphalt thrumming dully in his ears as they move forward just over the speed limit. In his periphery, Kyuhyun sees the edges of Seoul slowly give way to fields uninterrupted for city blocks and shopping streets’ length at a time. It’s midmorning, but most people commute into Seoul instead of out, so the ride is rather smooth, though halfway through Kyuhyun has to lower the windows to relieve the stagnant air inside of the car.
“You drive, right?” Kyuhyun had asked Jinki not hours before, his body small next to Minho’s, and only one distant eye visible, turned away.
He offered a response so small, had Kyuhyun been any less attentive, he would have missed it.
“He drives,” Minho had assured him with a smile. “Really well, actually.”
They both turn their eyes expectantly to Jinki but he doesn’t respond.
“He’s really shy at first.” Minho winces and ducks his head in a quick show of apology. “But I promise he’s amazing once you get to know him.”
Kyuhyun offers a social smile in return. “I trust you,” and then he laughs a little. “You wouldn’t lie to anyone.”
They arrive in Gyeonggi-do an hour or so shy of noon. Kyuhyun manages to find a parking lot attended by a modest-looking young woman and prices even more modest.
Jinki stirs just as Kyuhyun pulls into an open space.
“We’re here.” He grabs his bag out of the back seat and Jinki undoes his seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” Kyuhyun is holding his camera, because he wanted to get a shot of a sign outside of a posh-looking restaurant but Jinki has, instead of standing in frame and frowning with lowered eyes as Kyuhyun expects, leaned over with his hands flat under the sign as though he were holding it. He looks like one of those kitschy statues outside of tourist
“I’m interacting with the scenery,” he says by way of explanation. He’s about to return to his pose, but notices, astutely, that Kyuhyun’s eyebrow twitches and he’s narrowing his eyes at Jinki. Jinki clears his throat, feeling somehow authoritative.
“Rather than just taking a picture,” he offers slowly. Kyuhyun notices suddenly that his hands are starting to shake. “Rather than that, isn’t it better to become a part of the scene you capture?” Jinki peers from under his bangs, a slight pink in his cheeks.
Kyuhyun looks up and down the street, then, rigidly holding his camera. Before Jinki can ask him if everything’s okay through his trembling, Kyuhyun stops an older woman and asks her if she would take a picture of him and Jinki. She agrees and takes the camera, counting to three and snapping after Kyuhyun points out the appropriate button. “One more!” she smiles. Kyuhyun nods, and Jinki assumes a relaxed pose next to the signboard, whichi Kyuhyun mirrors on the opposite side.
She hands the camera back to Kyuhyun and both boys thank her before she’s on her way.
“I’ll print them next week, okay?” Kyuhyun smiles cautiously at Jinki. Jinki nods at him, mouth slightly agape. “Now come on, we have to finish up before nightfall!” He tugs at Jinki’s sleeve to give him a little start and returns his camera to his bag, pulling out a map with red circles and highlighted text which he seems to be explaining to Jinki. However Jinki is lost in his own thoughts, hands deep in his pockets.
They arrive in Chungcheongbuk-do with the sunrise. Kyuhyun is asleep with his mouth open, the passenger’s seat reclined, forearms slumped over his thighs. There is a slowly filling duffle of snacks and trinkets in the backseat and they’re barely a day into their trip. Jinki feels at ease with only a pale dawn spreading across the horizon to accompany him.
Kyuhyun makes a sudden growling noise in his sleep then that startles Jinki so badly he nearly chokes himself when he leaps up against the seatbelt.
“Where do you want to start?” Kyuhyun yawns. He’s not looking at any of the number of maps he has packed, instead leaning back against the side of the car, eyes heavy and his arms folded across his chest. “There are a lot of caves and temples I’d like to see and…”
“Hot springs,” Jinki says somewhat brightly, hands balled against his chest. “There are a ton of famous hot springs around.”
Jinki is shockingly competent and directed with the older woman sitting at the counter, making pleasant small talk and managing to get recommendations for things to see and places to eat a bit father off the tourist path. He purchases his entrance and a small towel which he slings over his shoulder for the time being. Kyuhyun does the same, thanking the older woman who tells them to take their time and enjoy.
They kick off their shoes once they enter the common area and put them into small coin lockers, Kyuhyun choosing one on the top right, Jinki’s near the entrance on the left side in the middle row. Kyuhyun stuffs his cell phone and car keys into the toes of his shoes as well. Almost in tandem, they turn the small orange-nubbed keys and put them away in their pockets. The common area is cozy, warmly lit, and small TV playing a local program in front of a couch, two massage chairs, a beanbag chair and a stool with a foot massager in front of it. While Kyuhyun checks out the selection of drinks on a coffee machine, Jinki goes ahead into the men’s changing area.
Kyuhyun notices after a moment and runs back to his side.
“What was that about?” Kyuhyun glances at him a bit playfully. They find men’s bath section to be blissfully empty of other patrons, yet he still speaks in a quiet voice.
“You put your shoes away too,” Jinki exclaims, a cute shocked expression on his face that makes Kyuhyun think he’s probably joking.
Kyuhyun nudges him lightly with a boyish grin. “You know what I mean. You and the lady.”
“A ha,” Jinki says, like a laugh he planned too far ahead. He scratches behind his ear. “I live with my grandma, so talking to older people comes naturally now.”
“I’m older,” Kyuhyun says pointedly and it looks like Jinki blushes a little as he turns his visible eye away.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. Kyuhyun smiles at him and he hesitantly returns it. They round the corner and Kyuhyun motions for Jinki to enter the changing room ahead of him. Jinki hesitantly accepts.
Kyuhyun and Jinki change on opposite sides of the clothing rack, the sounds of their clothing rustling loud and heavy over the water running tranquilly just outside. Jinki is the first to fold his clothes and drop them into the small basket; Kyuhyun watches his calves as he eventually disappears into the pale mist pouring through the doorway into the springs.
This is the first time he’s seen Jinki’s face in full, broad forehead and handsome eyebrows, eyes soft and shy as he splashes the water over his face. Kyuhyun ducks his head slightly as he steps down into the stone room, heading for the showers next to the door, towel low around his hips as he sits on one of the tiny plastic chairs. He turns the knob and rinses off with lukewarm water.
“How’s the water over there?” Kyuhyun works the shampoo he’s poured into his hands into a lather and starts scrubbing, sometimes looking at Jinki’s hazy figure reflected behind him in the mirror.
“Hot,” Jinki answers plainly.
Kyuhyun continues scrubbing his hair in silence. When he motions to turn the shower head on to rinse, Jinki begins speaking. “I’ve actually been out here before.”
Kyuhyun turns the shower on low. “Oh?”
“On a trip with my high school film club. They wanted to film out in the mountains.”
Kyuhyun hums in the back of his throat. “Were you an actor?”
“I was there to drive more than anything.”
“Were you the lead actor?” Kyuhyun is starting to smile.
“I honestly didn’t have that many lines,” Jinki answers, clearly flustered.
Kyuhyun turns the knob on the shower and rinses all of the soap off, quickly washing the rest of himself off as well before he steps into the water. It’s hotter than he expects, the curve of heated stones cemented in place so much more pleasing than the cracked tiling of the bathhouses he frequented as a student. He sits in the water adjacent to Jinki and tries not to look at him too openly.
“What kind of movie would bring you guys all the way out here?” Kyuhyun cocks his head to the side.
“It was a mystery film my friend and I wrote. Or, we tried to write, I guess. We never finished writing or filming,” and Jinki begins to trail off.
“But?” Kyuhyun presses gently, eyes curious.
“But,” Jinki suddenly continues, eyes wide. “But I guess we got enough on film for it to be okay even without an ending!”
“You go to school with Minho, right?” Kyuhyun changes subjects, half for his own sake. He leans a bit closer to Jinki. “We went to high school together, but you’re in school together now?”
“Yes,” Jinki confirms with a slight nod. The ends of his hair brush forward over his shoulders.
Kyuhyun sinks confortably a bit deeper into the water. “What are you studying? How did you two meet?”
Jinki looks lost in his own thoughts for a minute. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, and exhales through his mouth. “We actually met… through acting. I’m studying physics,” he hurries to say, “But I wanted to try acting.”
Kyuhyun makes an interested sound, looking expectantly at Jinki with big eyes.
“And we ended up in a small production together. I couldn’t have met Minho on my own. He’s really, really popular.”
Kyuhyun says “Yeah,” as he stretches, arms over his head, and legs forward, his ankle brushes what he suspects is Jinki’s thigh given how he nearly jumps out of his skin. Kyuhyun quickly pulls back, apologizing, and Jinki shakily tells him not to worry.
“I think you and Minho may have met anyway,” Kyuhyun continues, if a bit stilted with his words. “He usually ends up in the company of older men.” His words are mischievous but he somehow looks shy and embarrassed and Jinki laughs a bit.
They chat like that for a while, Kyuhyun sharing a few embarrassing anecdotes about himself, about Minho, about life, in exchange for each of Jinki’s. Eventually,
Once Jinki has left the room, Kyuhyun ducks underwater, holding his breath for all of thirty seconds before he stands quickly and climbs out of the spring. His towel is heavy around his hips as he Wet hair splayed across his forehead, Kyuhyun smiles at Jinki, wiping absently at the side of his neck with the soft white towel in his hand. “Let’s go to another hot spring later tonight.” There’s a flirtatious edge to his voice that makes Jinki blush.
After a day at Gyeryongsan National Park, a cheap meal, and a few hours of sleep in hotel with a complimentary hot spring, Jinki and Kyuhyun pack their sparse items into the car and leave for Gyeongsangbuk-do before the sun r
“Thank you so much,” Kyuhyun says bowing as they exit the garage. “We’ll be back in three days.”
The old man waves them off, already turning around and disappearing back into the garage lit only by daylight at this hour.
Kyuhyun hadn’t expected his car to break down, at least not so soon. He bought it knowing their time together would be but fleeting—a couple hundred thousand won wouldn’t get you much, after all. He stares off the side of the road as they walks into town, Jinki trailing close to his side.
“I’m hungry,” Jinki says under his breath.
Kyuhyun looks down at his watch. “It’s about dinnertime,” he says contemplatively.
Jinki makes a small, somewhat excited sound. “Are you ready to eat? I’m kind of craving a nice salad right now.” Though already entangled in reveries of deep greens and a crisp chill leaf folded over his tongue, he catches Kyuhyun’s quirk in expression from the corner of his eye and hurriedly adds, “But something warm would really hit the spot right now.”
“Something warm,” Kyuhyun echoes, looking all too pleased.
Despite their vague objective, nothing in particular catches their eye and if it does, their wallets quietly usher them in another direction. For what seems like hours, they wander aimlessly up and down the main drag until Jinki perks up, backpedaling to peer down an alleyway. Kyuhyun, however, is preoccupied with a game on his phone to momentarily placate his rumbling stomach and doesn’t realise that a decision has been reached until Jinki is shouting him back half-way up the street.
Kyuhyun puts in the effort for a light jog, until he’s standing in front of Jinki who is poised in the space between two buildings a bit wider than he is. Kyuhyun’s eyes search the space just over Jinki’s shoulder before refocusing on his face.
“Yes?” His eyebrow quirks.
Jinki turns on his heel. “Follow me,” he calls over his shoulder.
For lack of anything else to do, Kyuhyun follows him and they slide down an alleyway too narrow to walk through side-by-side. What appeared to be a dead end from the street is actually a square on the backside of a building. The overhead canopy of pipes and wire and steel is decorated with plastic leaves, pale flowers, and invitingly warm hanging lights. Light diffuses from a doorway half-covered with patterned fabric to the left, and a faint yet deep scent wafts under both their noses. Ramyeon.
“How did you.” Kyuhyun starts, before he’s drawn into the signboard propped outside. Beyond reasonable prices. Good meal sets.
Jinki chews at his bottom lip, rocking back on his heels. “Hmmm. You just have to look a little deeper, I guess.”
Kyuhyun stands, brushing off his knees. “I guess I should.” With one hand in his pocket he ducks into the restaurant ahead of Jinki. He greets the chefs behind the counter with a smile, and Jinki does his best to mimic that practiced ease.
When the steaming bowl of ramyeon is set down in front of him, Jinki swiftly ties his hair up into a small ponytail. He gently tucks the strands too short to be tied, but long enough to be a nuisance, behind his ears. As Jinki reaches for a pair of chopsticks and some extra spice, unable to stop himself, Kyuhyun tells him, “That’s really cute.”
Jinki looks up at him with wide eyes, blushes, and when he catches Kyuhyun’s eyes he quickly ducks his head, separates his chopsticks, and begins slurping up noodles. Kyuhyun’s gaze washes momentarily over the back of Jinki’s neck, smooth with fine black hair curling into soft wisps.
“Jinki,” he says softly, and the boy looks at him but Kyuhyun only smiles, says his thanks for the food and begins digging in.
They eat in the sort of companionable silence that comes with an anticipated and much-needed meal.
Jinki reaches across the table then, fingers freezing centimeters shy of Kyuhyun’s lips when he realizes what he’s doing. Kyuhyun exhales, breath light and damp on the tips of Jinki’s fingers. Flushing, he curls his fingers in and brushes his knuckles against the corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth, his pink lips. Kyuhyun’s tongue darts out to swipe at the spot instinctively.
Jinki is mostly succeeding at trying not to look ruffled as he turns as naturally as he can back to his own food, slurping up the last few noodles distractedly. He hopes he’s not blushing as much as the heat in his cheeks makes him think he is.
But he still feels as though he’s being watched.
“Hey.” Kyuhyun says, then, voice is a little high, his eyes a bit wide. Jinki thinks it looks like his bottom lip may be trembling, just a bit. He starts to worry. “Where are we gonna stay tonight?”
After dinner, Jinki spends thirty minutes looking over manhwa in the internet café as Kyuhyun does what he does best—find the best deals he can online.
“So,” Kyuhyun clears his throat. “This looks like the only place within our price range.”
Jinki leans over Kyuhyun’s shoulder to look at the page and his eyes go wide immediately. “Cherry Motel,” he reads, not bothering to mask his uncertainty. “Weren’t you looking at a cheaper… real hotel?”
“I looked into it, and found one review that only said, ‘Don’t go.’” He runs his fingers over the keyboard.
Jinki nods, his hair brushing Kyuhyun’s ear and causing him to duck his head a little lower. “So this is probably our best bet. It’s only 30,000 won for an overnight and this seems to be the standard room.” He scrolls down to show Jinki a blurry picture of a dimly lit room with a bed on one wall, and a door which assumedly leads to the bathroom
“But that’s the after-midnight rate…”
Kyuhyun is nodding. “If we stop and buy some food to take and just go on foot, we should make the time just fine.”
After a leisurely hour or so of wandering between convenience stores for any variety of snack and entertainment, and stopping in for a few rounds at an arcade Kyuhyun spots on the street, they reach the Cherry Motel. They stand in front of the entrance, inspecting its neon signboard (the kind written on with fluorescent marker) before they step inside. The lobby is, as one might expect from the name, painted a bright cherry red. One chandelier lights the small space and the only sound is a small fan buzzing somewhere in the back. There’s a front desk which is mercifully unmanned, and a small machine next to it with a hand-drawn instruction board.
Kyuhyun places an open hand in front of Jinki’s face and doesn’t say anything. Jinki starts for his wallet when he realizes what Kyuhyun wants and hands him 15000 won in wrinkled bills. Kyuhyun pulls his half and feeds them into the machine, frowning impatiently as it whirs leisurely for a few moments too long. Eventually, it spits out a room ticket which they exchange for a key through a literal hole in the wall at the front desk.
“And people use this for,” Jinki starts sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated before he’s blushing bright red at his own words.
Kyuhyun laughs awkwardly and pulls his bag higher on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s fine.” Kyuhyun and Jinki are buzzed into a narrow, brightly lit hallway where they find a bunch of unmarked doors and an elevator. The lift reaches the first floor quickly and takes them to the third floor, where their room is located, just as quickly. Stepping out of the elevator, they take an initial survey of the floor. It’s about as small as it looked from the outside, though the hallway is markedly wider. There are five rooms—one at either end of the hallway, two on the wall opposite the elevator, and one on the same wall as the elevator. It takes less than a cursory glance for Kyuhyun to find room 302 at the north end of the hallway. He reaches for Jinki’s wrist, but catches himself quickly, before he’s noticed Kyuhyun’s movement.
The room has the appearance of a plain apartment. There’s a mid-sized television on a dresser a few feet in front of the bed. The bed is almost against a wall, with a window overlooking an alleyway toward the foot. A dresser is near the head, with one lamp, and an odd black box placed atop it.
They both slip out of their shoes and into the slippers supplied near the door. Kyuhyun locks it behind them.
“Did you wanna use the shower?” Jinki asks, setting his bag down by the door with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah,” Kyuhyun answers, dropping his bag, and then himself, onto the bed. “But you can go first.”
Jinki makes a noise of acknowledgment. He pulls out a few necessities, a change of clothes and heads for the shower, closing the door behind him once he’s entered. The water begins to run a few moments later.
In the bedroom, Kyuhyun fiddles with the television, attempting to find a suitable, non-pornographic program. He finally catches a variety show instead of a commercial and sorts out his pajamas and bathing necessities as he attends to it halfway.
Jinki looks curiously at the basket next to the usual restroom amendments. Condoms of all types, and lubricant. The each of the rainbow of small tubes is marked with different fruit flavours and he’s momentarily compelled to open one just to taste. He refrains however and squeezes toothpaste onto the wet bristles of his toothbrush.
A low “Hmmm” floats into Jinki’s ear from just behind him, causing him to startle and a familiar hand reaches and pulls the condom from between his fingers.
“Ribbed, huh?” Kyuhyun studies the description on the back closely, Jinki’s heart still beating in his ears. “Looks fun.” He places it on the counter between them as he wets his toothbrush and squeezes a generous amount of toothpaste onto the bristles. He steps to the other side of the small bathroom, slumped against the window to allow Jinki space.
Jinki leans down and spits into the sink, blunt fingers poised behind his right ear to hold his hair back. Then, setting his toothbrush down alongside the sink, he grabs the complimentary mouth wash next to the basket of condoms and pours some into his mouth to gargle. Kyuhyun stares at his feet instead of Jinki’s throat, face feeling a bit warm. Jinki spits out the mouthwash and rinses his mouth with water before he takes a deep breath. “Have you been to one of these places before?” He asks at length. His eyes briefly meet Kyuhyun’s as he runs the back of his hand across his wet lips.
“No,” he manages through a mouth full of foam. He spits it into the sink, leaning in front of Jinki to do so. The red tips of his ears and his pale neck grab Jinki’s attention and in that moment he realizes the strange intimacy of brushing his teeth next to another person.
“I’d always wanted to, out of curiosity.” Kyuhyun continues before mirroring Jinki and rinsing his mouth with mouthwash and then water. He stares down at his feet for a moment before he finishes, “I never expected to actually end up in one though.”
Jinki ruffles at this and Kyuhyun, with a furrow in his brow, pats Jinki on the shoulder, setting his toothbrush down on the counter next to the condom and his toothpaste.
Kyuhyun laughs, turning over his shoulder, only to find Jinki’s face still and serious. “Are you okay?” he inquires at length, eyebrows quirked just enough to convey worry.
Kyuhyun reaches out to touch him and Jinki tangles their fingers together. A moment later and Jinki has Kyuhyun pulled closer, his hand at the deceptively soft curve of Kyuhyun’s back.
“Are you cold?” Jinki asks against Kyuhyun’s lips, thumb idly rubbing Kyuhyun’s right nipple through his shirt. The sympathy in his eyes is clear and Kyuhyun can’t stand it.
“No,” he assures them both. “Really hot, actually. I need you to get me out of this.” His voice is throaty. Eyes trained on Jinki, he shrugs his shirt a little farther off his shoulder and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the corner of Jinki’s mouth. Jinki slides so he catches Kyuhyun’s mouth, open and ready, unsteady fingers exploring the soft skin under his shirt. Kyuhyun pulls away then, casting his eyes momentarily downward and there’s a beat before Jinki catches his meaning. Still panting, he gives a small nod and slides his hands from Kyuhyun’s shoulders to his hips, mouthing hungrily at his neck.
Jinki palms the hard line of Kyuhyun’s erection through his dark cotton trousers. “Aren’t you wearing any underwear?” He almost sounds like he’ll laugh, watching Kyuhyun through his bangs.
“No.” Kyuhyun isn’t looking at him. His eyes are lowered, lashes dark against the flush in his cheeks as he faces away.
Jinki swallows and returns shakily, “Good.” His hands are shaking so violently, he’s actually a bit surprised when he gets the zipper on Kyuhyun’s pants all the way down with one smooth motion. His tongue swipes across his lips unconsciously as soon as he gets the pants farther down Kyuhyun’s hips. Never taking his eyes off of Kyuhyun’s length, he pulls his hair up into a loose ponytail which alone elicits a pleased noise from Kyuhyun, the sensation of the sound soft against his skin. He leans in closer and, closing his eyes, kisses the head, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ears. His tongue presses past his lips and tastes the precome before he pulls back, eyes opening and a shuddering breath escaping him. Kyuhyun makes a sound low in his throat, wiggling his hips a little.
“I just don’t,” Jinki starts suddenly. He whips his head up to face Kyuhyun, the red in his cheeks evident even with barely any light. “I’ve never done this before.” The pads of his fingers hover, barely touching Kyuhyun’s length, but Kyuhyun holds back the desire to press forward into that feeling, teasingly close.
He’s beginning to tell Jinki it’s all right if he doesn’t want to, but halfway through Jinki’s mouth—warm, sweet, soft mouth—is around him. Kyuhyun, startled, moans openly, rolls his hips as Jinki takes him in further until he’s more than halfway down, cheeks hollowed.
“Wait.” Kyuhyun bites down on his lip. “Help me get these off.” He shifts his legs and Jinki hurriedly helps him pull his pants off the rest of the way. Kyuhyun thanks him by spreading his legs and giving a welcoming look, to which Jinki eagerly responds.
“I can’t believe how badly I want to do this.” He laughs a dry laugh and this time he takes Kyuhyun all the way in at once. It takes him a bit to adjust, and Kyuhyun gets to enjoy the feeling of the back of Jinki’s throat in that interim, but he’s a fast learner and eventually he’s found a rhythm just erratic enough to keep Kyuhyun pleased from the sound of the half-formed praises falling from his lips.
Kyuhyun’s fingers splay across the back of Jinki’s neck, slow and sweet, moving down until his hand is balled in the collar of Jinki’s shirt for leverage and he thrusts up into his mouth. It’s such a habit he doesn’t think about it, but Jinki manages to take it, reading the lines of Kyuhyun’s hips beneath his fingers. Kyuhyun groans and thrusts up again, a bit more weakly this time.
“I’m close.” His fingers slide back up Jinki’s neck to cradle his head, tangling in the loose, wet hairs at the base as he takes him deeper.
He feels Kyuhyun tense under him, the noise that escapes his throat a telltale sign of his oncoming orgasm. Jinki panics and quickly pulls back, panting as a few pretty strings of come decorate his right cheek, catching the moonlight.
Jinki lifts his head, eyes a bit dazed when he looks at Kyuhyun, a small string of come at the corner of his mouth. Kyuhyun takes Jinki’s face in his hands and laps it up, tongue hot and slow, before kissing Jinki, hard and with an edge of desperation.
He hooks his thumb into the waist of Jinki’s pants. “Can you still,” he begins, uncertain. He meets Jinki’s eyes. “Inside of me.”
Jinki nods, wordless.
“Lube,” Kyuhyun tells him. “Condom, in my bag.”
“Jesus,” Kyuhyun gasps when Jinki unzips his pants and the dark head of his length peeks out above the waistband of his underwear. His open staring, tongue darting over his lips as Jinki tugs his pants farther down, is making Jinki even harder and he can see Kyuhyun’s cock twitching, too, steadily growing more and more flushed.
Jinki ducks his head and blushes, shimmying the rest of the way out of his loose pants and kicking them away as he moves back toward Kyuhyun on his hands and knees. He leans forward and Kyuhyun draws him further in until he’s back on his elbows with Jinki firm above him, breathing one another in.
Kyuhyun is already fully hard again, pressed against his thigh
Jinki takes in the sight of Kyuhyun, flush and waiting beneath him and panic begins welling up in his chest until Kyuhyun exhales pleasantly through his nose,
“This is my first time,” Jinki tells him shyly, looking almost ashamed.
Kyuhyun laughs breathlessly and cups his face in one hand. “That’s fine.” He smiles, spreading his legs and drawing Jinki closer, the tips of his fingers light under Jinki’s chin. He wraps his hand around Jinki’s length. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
Jinki slips a hand to the back of Kyuhyun’s neck, massaging strange, warm patterns into Kyuhyun’s skin, the wet chill of the night slipping in between their lips.
The dew is wet and cold on his back
Kyuhyun opens his eyes to look,
The next morning, Jinki wakes up first, his arm wrapped around Kyuhyun’s back as he is curled against him, looking oddly docile until a snore erupts from him suddenly.
The heat feels amazing, and
It's 4AM on their drive back to Seoul. "Hey," Kyuhyun says, nudging Jinki. "Have you ever been to Eurwangni Beach?"
Jinki first looks bleary, then completely bewildered before shaking his head 'no.'
"All right." Kyuhyun checks to his left and manages to cross lanes through the sparse traffic, probably other backpackers.
Jinki drifts back to sleep in the interim and Kyuhyun glances over at him occasionally, the way the light and shadows roll over his face, both angular and soft.
The shimmering expanse of sand,
Kyuhyun kisses Jinki slowly, opening his mouth like it were sticky with honey, fingers rubbing secrets across the back of Jinki’s neck. His other hand, light on Jinki’s tense bicep, sweeps
They both watch Kyuhyun’s hand, his slender fingers working out the shape on Jinki’s length, palm rubbing it through two layers of fabric.
“Do you want me to?” Kyuhyun pants, lips millimeters from Jinki’s.
“You don’t have to,” Jinki tries to interject.
“But do you want me to?” Kyuhyun bites his lip, running his finger along the sensitive underside and Jinki tenses. “Because I really want to.” His voice is a near-whisper, a breeze against Jinki’s raw cheek.
Jinki nods, not breathing until Kyuhyun ducks down and takes him halfway in to start and he inhales so suddenly he begins to feel dizzy. He cards his fingers through Kyuhyun’s damp hair and watches the strata of light buzzing with life on the horizon. Kyuhyun removes his hand and Jinki’s ears ring when he hits the back of Kyuhyun’s throat. He groans, but Kyuhyun simply hums and Jinki looks down to watch him, the peaceful look on his face cast in warm shadow, dark eyelashes lowered against pink cheeks dusted in salt and sand and water like stars clinging to the sky at daybreak.
Kyuhyun pulls off, panting, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He puts one hand on Jinki’s shoulder and slowly falls against him, sticky lips hungrily seeking solace against Jinki’s. Jinki slides one hand against his lower back and Kyuhyun stretches forward so that that hand slips against his ass. He groans prettily against Jinki’s open mouth and Jinki squeezes
Jinki tastes himself on Kyuhyun’s tongue, in the corners of his mouth and when Kyuhyun rubs against him, he feels just how hard he’s gotten inside his trousers.
Kyuhyun pushes Jinki’s shirt up with one hand, the other undoing his own trousers. He flicks Jinki’s nipple with his tongue and in the moment Jinki moans, Kyuhyun begins stroking himself. He rubs the head with his thumb, biting and sucking his way down Jinki’s chest in a way that leaves his breath ragged, fingers grasping at sand.
It doesn’t take long for Jinki to come after that, the salty taste of Jinki’s come mingling with the taste of saltwater in Kyuhyun’s mouth.
Kyuhyun strokes himself to climax between Jinki’s legs, Jinki’s eyes trained on him the whole time.
“You know,“ Kyuhyun starts, throat dry. “When Minho asked if I’d take you with me, he said you were having some… problems…” He looks over at Jinki whose eyes are settled on the horizon. “I don’t want to pry but”
“It wasn’t anything bad,” Jinki laughs. “Just identity things, I guess. ‘Where am I going?’ ‘Why am I so alone?’ Those kinds of things.
“How was your trip, hyung?” Minho unpacks the contents of Kyuhyun’s car in front of their shared house, a small courtesy that didn’t take much effort to prod him into.
Kyuhyun stretches, fingers laced. “It felt like connecting points and lines.” A plane passes low overhead and stirs low hanging clouds. They reflect across Kyuhyun’s dark eyes.
Minho raises an eyebrow, normally wide eyes narrowed.
I find shingeki no kyojin super Fcking basic but then aren't I the super fckign basic one for having such venom against a largely inconsequential and popular /anime/ of all things
negative feeling spring up like weeds the green of their stalks and depth of their roots suggests grass to easy eyes as they brush over me, a breeze beneath the bird's wing I want to set fire to them, weeds and grasses all and recline to imagine the world burning beyond that low horizon
Even when I drop Kpop I will probably spend time thinking kyuhyun is cute admiring his cheekbones when he laughs watching clips of radio star to see his blooming charisma q_____q what a life
He thought nothing could possibly feel worse than the pressure built up in his ears as a plane reached peak altitude. Sungyeol is sadly mistaken, the weight against his brain as he stirs consciously before he does physically becoming unbearable.
“Kai, touch me here,” and a rustle of cloth not three feet from him are the first words he hears. Sungyeol is more concerned than he is curious, but the thought of bellowing his signature scream exhausts him so greatly he nearly loses consciousness again.
“Doctor,” a voice admonishes, deeper, more playful.
“Doctor Kai,” the smaller voice whispers.
“Nurse Taemin,” Doctor Kai murmurs, muffled, like his lips are pressed against skin.
Sungyeol taps his fingers lethargically, becoming suddenly aware of the tightly fitted sheets and hospital gown before he’s very aware of his own body. A gasp draws his attention to the right and the image before his eyes sharpens slowly. He distinguishes the two characters—Doctor Kai and Nurse Taemin—by their dress. Kai is in a white lab coat over a dress shirt and slacks, face buried and making wet sounds against Nurse Taemin’s neck, where the white collar of his eggshell nurse’s dress is pulled back. Sungyeol can’t see Doctor Kai’s face, but he sees one hand holding Taemin’s thin wrists, the other gripping his ass through white panties, the barely decent skirt of Taemin’s uniform dress pushed up over his hips. He turns his head with a lilting moan, lidded eyes meeting Sungyeol’s bleary ones.
“Doctor Kai,” Taemin says with sudden rigidness. Kai lifts his head languidly, lips poised in response when he catches sight of Sungyeol. Ka promptly shrieks and hides himself behind Taemin, ducking behind his small body.
“Doctor Kai, I don’t think he’s a threat.” Kai slowly moves from behind Taemin. Sungyeol thinks he’s managed to blink for the first time. “Besides, this is our job.”
“Right,” Kai says, then more certainly, “Right.” He clears his throat and slides a pair of flimsy rubber gloves onto his hands.
Sungyeol thinks he blinks, but when his eyes are open again, Taemin is scribbling down vital signs as Kai reads them off, eyes wandering back to the nurses’ hat perched on his head with something between adoration and unadorned lust.
Another hazy period of a prolonged blink and the two are standing over him, very close, their faces draped in shadows and a single light above in the grey room which seems to flicker in their dark glassy eyes. The two grin down at him with what Sungyeol thinks must be “wolf-like.” He blinks slowly, but faster than he has the last few times, he thinks, but there’s a needle glinting in the light, looking recently drained of liquid by its damp sheen.
Before Sungyeol’s eyes fall closed a last time, he sits up in bed, two hours before his alarm, and screams.
I didn't really read so sorry if smth isn't completed!! please tell me if anything seems abrupt, incomplete, there are inconsistencies &c. T_T
4362w
r? nc17? idk.
goodnight!!!
Jiwoon fidgets away at his desk for the last 15 minutes of his work shift. He could easily walk out—he’d been there for long enough, and he felt respected if the number of bows he received daily was any indication—but he wants it to feel like a reward and not simply a temptation. He shifts his hands over the papers atop his desk. Nothing important. He could easily have these forms filed by the end of tomorrow, or earlier if he finished tonight. He picks up the fountain pen at his side and twirls it deftly between his fingers, feeling oddly calm as it spins.
He’d eagerly, perhaps too hastily, agreed to meet someone he’d been speaking with online for a few weeks. It was half flirtation, half oddly deep questions about meaning and approaches to things which seemed in retrospect rather similar—art, mathematics, television dramas, relationships. Despite his perceived closeness to this stranger, he hadn’t wanted to scare his—friend? Potential partner?—with questions of age or exchanging pictures, thus the mounting of anticipation into anxiety. Setting the pen down, he wonders if any strange rumours have arisen from the sheer number of desperate bathroom breaks he’s taken throughout the day. Jiwoon ssi seems sick. Do you think he has a bladder infection? Single guys can never take care of themselves, can they? He imagines the hushed chorus of voices. Jiwoon unconsciously rubs the backs of his fingers along his chin—I need a shave, he thinks distantly. Not that that matters anyway.
--
Jiwoon looks down at his watch, the seconds ticking by, the next hour moments from being struck. Right at five, there’s a voice next to him, though he never heard the owner approach.
“Hello, Jiwoon ssi?” It says. It’s a round, smooth sound, and reminds him of ripe fruit in summer. Jiwoon’s mouth waters as he turns and thinks of taking a bite. Jiwoon feels embarrassed seeing the face of the voice’s owner, handsome and shining, bright young eyes behind black frames and his smallish shoulders sloped in a disarmingly keen manner, the second button of his dark plaid shirt folded unassumingly into the dip of his collarbone. He’s wrapped in a thick cardigan that makes him seem more slight than he really is. The strong urge to hide behind his briefcase rises is his chest, but he maintains that he is an adult despite the oddly schoolboyish feelings welling up in his chest at the moment.
“It’s me, Jinki.” His smile is sprightly, autumn brown hair falling boyishly above his soft eyes. His modest wire glasses slip down his nose, and he tosses his head, something that looks like a tic, before continuing, “We talked online? It’s you, right? Jiwoon ssi.”
“Yes,” Jiwoon bows slightly. “Jiwoon. Nice to meet you. How old are you?” Jiwoon looks nonchalantly at the young man, a few inches shorter than himself, but Jiwoon accepted that his height was uncommon. Jinki’s face is young, but with a peculiar agedness about his eyes and the slow rise of his cheeks when he smiles.
Jinki peers up shyly from under his bangs, a charming smile on his lips. “Nineteen.” He smiles with just enough teeth despite the odd expression on Jiwoon’s face. “And you?”
Jiwoon turns his eyes from Jinki’s beaming face. “Thirty-seven,” he mumbles.
Jinki’s shock is exaggerated, the kind of gasp you’d only see on television, but his mouth forms a perfect ‘o,’ so Jiwoon doesn’t mention how funny he finds it. “You look so young! If you were out of your suit, you wouldn’t look that much older than me, I bet.” The sly lilt of Jinki’s voice makes Jiwoon’s face feel hot.
“It only gets worse.” His smile is deferential, a bit of bitterness dotting the corners. “I’m not in shape like I used to be.”
Jinki hums, turning and peering down the street as though he’s looking for someone. “That only makes you more real.” He flips his hair again, playing with his bangs for a moment. “This may be hasty of me to say, but I can’t believe a guy like you hasn’t settled down yet.”
Jiwoon sighs, allowing himself to slump over. “It’s not exactly easy to do that… when you’re like this.” There’s an accepting, even hopeful tone to his voice, but Jinki frowns.
The playful expression leaves no trace on his young features, and Jiwoon finds that the young man he sees now is somehow far more honest than the one preening at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I understand,” he says at length. Jiwoon feels his heart sink.
“Sorry to ask so many questions.” Jinki bows his head, hair falling forward into his eyes.
“It’s all right.” Jiwoon wants to pat him on the shoulder, but balls his fingers in his pockets instead. “Is there anywhere you wanted to go?”
“Noraebang?” Jinki says like a laugh.
--
The microphone rolls from the table and hits the ground with an inaudible thud. Loud advertisements alternate with previews of new music, but all Jiwoon hears is the rush of blood in his head, Jinki’s breath ragged in the shell of his ear. The lights are dimmed and Jiwoon pulls back to study the highlights of pink and dark blues across Jinki’s face as he wraps his arms around Jiwoon’s shoulders and pulls him down onto the couch.
“I like to eat a full meal before.” Jinki brushes his lips across Jiwoon’s cheekbone. The smooth quality of his voice is caught somewhere in his throat; the way Jinki speaks in now sends a chill through Jiwoon like a burst of winter’s air, raw, breathed more than spoken. “That way I can know just how deep this kind of hunger goes. But I’m okay not to.” He grinds his hips up against Jiwoon’s. “Is it weird to get turned on so fast?”
“Not at all.” Jiwoon dips his head to place a kiss against Jinki’s jaw. “Are you sure this isn’t too fast?”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Jinki bites out, too fast from the look—embarrassment mingled with a twinge of regret—on his face. It’s quickly replaced by an almost queasy, like he wants to leave, or maybe hit Jiwoon.
Jiwoon doesn’t respond for a moment, running the question seriously in his head, and suddenly Jinki looks alone more than anything.
“Maybe it’s the position,” Jiwoon suggests, voice low, moving his hands to be a comforting heat at Jinki’s shoulders. “Can I…?”
Jinki nods breathlessly, letting himself be handled by Jiwoon, who pulls him into his lap, legs spread over Jiwoon’s narrow thighs. “Do you like this?”
“I like this,” Jinki answers softly with another nod.
Jiwoon’s fingers skim up the exposed skin of Jinki’s wrist and he tangles their fingers together with the kind of precision undetectable to the eye. A spark of a smile reaches his eyes before it curls out on his lips and Jinki’s breath catches. “Jinki, what do you think about?”
Jinki chuckles low in his throat, the heat from his face warm where it radiates against Jiwoon’s cheek as he undoes Jinki’s pants. “Is this what you like for dirty talk?” He swallows, Jiwoon’s fingers close, a pressure thrumming at the same frequency as the blood rushing to his dick. “I think about—well now, the future.” Jiwoon doesn’t move, so he continues. “Maybe it’s because I’m still young, but I have a hard time understanding my actions as consequential. I just wanna do everything. I wanna experience just as much as I am experienced,” a small laugh and he gasps for air when Jiwoon’s fingers press against his erection. “But there’s not enough time.”
Jiwoon’s thumb slips past the band of Jinki’s boxer briefs and he rubs the pad of it along Jinki’s hip. He makes a soft sound, rolling his hips further into Jiwoon’s touch. “Are you sensitive here?”
“Not usually.” A breathless laugh. “Maybe it’s just your fingers.” Jiwoon meets his gaze briefly, eyes glossy behind his frames. “They remind me a lot of mine. Don’t you agree that narcissism is important to attraction?”
“Perhaps,” Jiwoon replies with a thoughtful lilt to his voice. Jinki watches Jiwoon as he pulls the elastic band down until the hard line of Jinki’s erection is uncovered, already fully hard. “It’s nice.”
“Don’t just admire,” Jinki huffs somewhat impatiently. “You can do it dry. I like your hands.”
Jiwoon curls his fingers around Jinki, deliberately rubbing his thumb slowly against his hot skin. Jinki gasps, moving forward in Jiwoon’s lap, spreading his legs as far apart as he can, admittedly not far, jeans still tight around his thighs.
He paces his strokes with Jinki’s breathing; down with his fingers clenched as Jinki inhales, heavy breathing and hot face steaming his glasses as they slide down his nose; up as he exhales, Jiwoon’s fingernails light across a particularly sensitive stretch of skin.
“I’m gonna come.” Jinki tenses and releases his hold on Jiwoon’s shoulders, clearly trying to be gentle with the pressure of his unexpectedly strong fingers. “Faster,” he whines, thrusting weakly into the pressure of Jiwoon’s hand as he strokes, shorter, more quickly. Jiwoon bites down on his lip, head bowed and in the dark of the room, his fine eyelashes pick up captivating flashes of pink at their tips—Jinki tries to focus on them, tries to still his breathing , tries to do anything to savour Jiwoon’s expert hand for just a moment longer, but his efforts unwind in his belly like a taut elastic released.
Jinki’s fingers slip from Jiwoon’s shoulders to his short hair, pulling with blunt fingers pressed to his scalp. Jinki buries his face into the crown of Jiwoon’s bowed head, growing dizzy at the faint scent of soap and the rapid uncoiling of tension between his legs. He comes, back arched, hips meeting each slowing movement of Jiwoon’s hand, moaning loud and wet against him. It sends a shiver right down through Jiwoon’s shoulders, residual electricity touching sensitive spots along his spine.
He pulls a packet of tissues from his briefcase, seated next to them, with his free hand and cleans himself and Jinki as Jinki’s breathing steadies, breath still moist against Jiwoon’s hair.
“Thank you,” Jinki mumbles. His fingers loosen in Jiwoon’s hair and soon they’re cradling his head against Jinki’s warm chest. Jiwoon crumples the tissues and tucks them into a pocket of his briefcase before slipping both hands flat and unchallenging against Jinki’s damp back.
“It’s no problem.” He smiles. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Jinki hums a quiet song for a moment, swaying slightly with Jiwoon in his arms before asking, “Do you mind if I take a quick nap?” Before Jiwoon has answered (“I don’t mind.”), he’s already scooting off of his lap and pulling his underwear and jeans back up around his hips.
He manages to fall asleep amid the blaring sound of the noraebang room, looking peaceful against the arm of the couch. Jiwoon stands and stretches, moving swiftly across the room to lower the sound to an acceptable level. He places the fallen microphone back atop the table and picks up the worn song catalogue resting next to it.
Jiwoon leafs through the song book for no more than ten minutes, puzzling out new artists and trends (I wonder if Jinki listens to them runs through his mind every so often) from what he finds to be familiar when Jinki stirs in a whirlwind of movement, apologizing to a point of excess. Jiwoon, with a mildly perplexed smile, puts a hand carefully atop his knee. “It’s all right,” he whispers. Jinki stills, meeting his eyes (they flicker momentarily down to Jiwoon’s still hand) and he smiles.
--
Jiwoon claps enthusiastically as Jinki puts on a show with a trot song he doesn’t particularly recall. He’s practiced in the department of cheesy winks, and has thrown out his fair share as well, but Jinki’s performance is a whole new level. It’s just comedic enough where Jiwoon doesn’t feel terribly awkward laughing as he sings along.
When Jinki finishes his second solo (“You’re so good, you should just keep singing,” Jiwoon insists) he compromises by asking Jiwoon to pick a song they can sing together. It’s something old, and Jiwoon is hesitant to sing at first, so in awe of the rich sound of Jinki’s voice, but he’s so open, looking between Jiwoon and the lyrics with an encouraging smile. Jiwoon shakes the tambourine where he likes it best and Jinki will pause from singing and clap to the beat of Jiwoon’s playful notes. He stumbles initially, but into the third and fourth songs, Jinki has found an impressive harmony with Jiwoon despite his quiet voice, feeling out the lyrical intonation before it reaches his ears for the first time, almost like he’s reading him three steps ahead.
--
“I’m sorry.” Jiwoon bows deeply, an old reflex, as they exit noraebang. The sky has already taken on a purple hue, sunset just passed.
“Why are you apologizing?” Jinki gasps, hurrying to straighten him up.
Jiwoon looks surprised. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Jinki almost laughs. “Unless you do something bad. Then apologize. Apologize a lot.” His tone is severe. Jiwoon feels foolish feeling so afraid of—of a kid, but Jinki flashes a wide smile and he chances a laugh.
“Really though. I hate that you bow on command like that. I want to at least try to be friends, so do you think we could try to act more as equals?”
It’s a big statement to chew , Jiwoon thinks. “You’re really mature,” his mouth says. The comment is meant for himself but Jinki’s expression falters when it reaches his ears.
“I guess,” is all he says in response.
He looks small and distant, younger now that Jiwoon’s words have weighted him so suddenly.
He claps Jinki on the shoulder companionably. “You must be hungry. Would you like to get something to eat?”
--
“What do you do?” Jinki leans forward to catch the melted cheese between his teeth as he brings a slice of pizza to his mouth. The heat from it steams his glasses and Jiwoon suppresses a smile.
“Financial advising,” he replies easily after he finishes a breadstick. His eyes wander over Jinki’s shoulder to the sign for a hotel which lights up one character at a time from top to bottom. The neon pink is off-putting. “Mostly internal things. Organizing requests from other departments. Nothing glamorous.”
“Does that mean you don’t like it?” Jinki’s hair is brushed aside allowing Jiwoon to see the inquisitive set of one eyebrow. He brushes his hair behind his ear.
“Well, it’s not that… I used to want to be a professor.” Jiwoon dips his head and sips some of the fizzy blue pop through a straw.
“I’d like to be a professor,” Jinki muses. “It doesn’t really matter to me what of. At least not now.”
Jiwoon hums. “It’s good that you’re so sure.”
“Well I’m starting university in the spring.” His laughter is a little forced; his eyes shut a touch too tight. Jinki catches the oddly crestfallen expression on Jiwoon’s face. “I took a year off between middle and high school. We moved a bit suddenly and it was troublesome to change into a school, so I did ‘self-study.’”
After a moment Jiwoon replies, “Aaah,” a look of understanding across his features.
“It’s not particularly weird still being in high school at this age, though. Not many people know. Just that I’m a senior,” he snickers.
Jiwoon grins playfully, baring his slightly crooked white teeth. “You must be great at keeping secrets. Highschoolers are nosier than the government.”
There’s a flash of pride across Jinki’s face, quicker than lightning or a spark of static. “I guess.”
He starts into his third slice of pizza before setting it down.
“Full?” Jiwoon asks, feeling silly after such a blatantly conversational comment.
“No, just thinking,” Jinki tells him coyly, lashes lowered.
“About?” Jiwoon follows Jinki’s lead, feet tapping out the rhythm of his conversation as it plays in his mind.
“About… something I always meant to ask when we were online, but somehow I felt too shy to.” Jiwoon nods, prompting Jinki to continue. “I don’t know why, it’s not a particularly weird question but… what are you into?” Jinki gives him a pointed look which comes across almost as ridiculous on his young face, glasses magnifying his widened eyes, a nod of his head, knowing smirk curving naturally into the lines of his face.
Jiwoon’s hand trembles a bit as he brings it back from the fry basket placed between them. “All sorts of things,” he answers vaguely.
“Like…?” Jiwoon feels like paper under Jinki’s sharp gaze.
Jiwoon steels himself, and replies seriously. “If you name it, I’ve probably tried it, or would try it.”
It’s Jinki’s turn to stare, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “Like… Public sex?”
“Only once.”
“In a bathroom?”
Jiwoon frowns. “Never a public bathroom.”
“I agree. How about sex with a woman,” Jinki says like a challenge.
Jiwoon shrinks in his seat with a look like an unpleasant nerve has been touched. “A few times.”
Jinki hums, trying to clear the mood. “What about in your office?”
“With a woman?” Jiwoon sounds a bit shocked.
“With anyone.” The smirk on Jinki’s lips only widens.
All at once, Jiwoon is incredulous and disappointed. “No, actually,” and then, “But I’ll make sure to now.”
Jinki laughs, leaning back in his seat, arms folded across his chest as he nods. “I guess you’ve had a longer time to experience things than I have,” he muses to himself.
“How—how much experience do you have?” Jiwoon finds it a little awkward talking so casually with someone much younger than himself but Jinki falls back somewhat petulantly in his chair, arms crossed as he looks somewhere other than at Jiwoon.
“Not much,” and he sounds somewhere between hopeless and—upset? Jiwoon leans in curiously. “I dated a girl and we—you know, ‘fooled around,’ but all over the clothes. Which I’m thankful for, really, I don’t think either of us was ready.” He checks Jiwoon’s expression from the corner of his eye then turns so that he’s facing him again, tapping his glasses back into place with a swift index finger. “There was a guy at the exchange student’s ‘house party,’” he flexes his fingers to emphasize a particular word and it finally clicks in Jiwoon’s mind what is means.
“But we both fell asleep with his pants barely down. After that, I had a—a thing, I don’t know what to call it, with a guy on a sports team from another school. He invited me over, said he was impressed with my skill and wanted to get to know me, and that was my first time. The sex was good, but he was a dull-minded person so I broke it off. He didn’t seem particularly upset though—he probably had other people he was seeing.” Jinki heaves a huge sigh then, slumping across the table and stuffing a few fries into his mouth before he continues.
“I had tutor a few years older than me last year, a lady, and it wasn’t much—mostly quick stuff in the classroom, but I didn’t really enjoy it and it ended fast after I stopped,” he pauses and clears his throat, shifting his gaze downward, and adjusting his glasses more gingerly this time. “Stopped being able to get it up for her.”
Jiwoon widens his eyes and when Jinki says nothing for a moment too long he whispers, “Don’t feel bad.” He reaches halfway across the table, resting his hand next to the basket of fries in a gesture he feels should be comforting. Somehow. “Those things aren’t uncommon in young men. Trust me.”
“I know.” Jinki looks up with an awkward smile that becomes an awkward laugh. “Thank you,” he tells Jiwoon anyway.
“Then,” his intonation is almost as though he had never stopped speaking; in media res, if Jiwoon recalled his brief stint with—Latin? “Then there was my best friend—from before my family moved to Seoul. He came to visit over summer break last year and the year before that, which is when it all happened.”
Jinki takes a drink of water and a bite of a breadstick before continuing. Jiwoon picks up a slice of the cooled pizza and eats it idly as Jinki continues. “We,” he relaxes and sighs. “It was definitely the best with him.” He looks far off for a moment and Jiwoon finds himself holding his breath.
“We didn’t.” Jinki blushes slightly as he continues, brows knitting together in an unreadable expression. “We didn’t do it or anything. He just told me he was feeling curious one night, so I gave him a blowjob and I got one in return, and it just kind of kept going like that. He’s kind of a bold guy, so he’d give me handjobs in public bathrooms and we fooled around in the shower together a few times. And… and he got me off in the back of a park once, just touching over my clothes.” Jinki sighs, seeming to deflate almost, and he picks up his breadstick to finish it. “He’d bite me on my thigh sometimes and say it was a secret.” Jinki adds as an afterthought, “I liked that.”
Jiwoon nods, attending to his own food, turning over everything he’d just heard. “He sounds like a great catch.”
“I don’t think it was anything more than fun for either of us.” Jinki’s voice is certain. “He didn’t like kissing or anything, which was how he was with people he wasn’t serious about. Besides, he’s leaving Korea to study in Thailand in a few months, but I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”
Jiwoon makes a bright noise around a mouthful of salad, already gone warm. “You don’t sound disappointed.”
“I’m not,” Jinki verifies.
“I trust you.” The statement sounds easy. Maybe his jaw is loose from chewing, Jinki muses.
“It sounds silly to say right now, but I think there’s farther I can go.” He picks up a tomato sitting at the bottom of his salad bowl and pops it into his mouth. “There’s more for me.” He chews thoughtfully in a comfortable silence with Jiwoon, before looking struck by a sudden idea. He flattens his palms on the table and leans forward, his movement catching Jiwoon’s eyes.
“What about,” Jinki pauses, dips his head slightly as he scratches with blunt fingertips at the back of his neck. The city lights are white sparks of friction in between his fingers. “Have you ever done anything with… collars and stuff?”
Jiwoon swallows his salad and looks up at Jinki, not a touch of malice on his face. Jiwoon tells him in a low voice, “I love it.” He unconsciously straightens and shifts forward in his seat.
“Oh? We should try it sometime.” Jinki has a bright grin on his face that unsettles Jiwoon as much as it intrigues him.
--
The air has taken on an almost crystalline chill in the deep night.
“Thanks for paying.” Jinki looks up at him, seeming small as he shrinks into his heavy cardigan. “Again.”
“It’s no problem, honestly.” Jiwoon runs a hand through his hair, trying to assume a calm demeanor though he doubts he looks anything but the opposite.
“Is it all right if I call you Jiwoon ah?” Jinki asks after a pause, ridiculously soft brown eyes and his hair wind-tousled about his handsome forehead.
“Yeah.” His smile is timid, hair almost in his eyes when he lowers his head, a habit he wishes he could break. “Should I call you… Jinki yah?”
“Just ‘Jinki’ is fine. Jiwoon ah.” Jinki’s voice winds around him, an enchanting mist that relaxes the tug of tension in his back. “Unless you want to call me something else. Call me what you want, Jiwoon ah.”
“Jinki,” Jiwoon answers like an invitation.
Jinki closes the small distance between them and takes the lapels of Jiwoon’s jacket between his fingers. “Jiwoon ah, you’re a very kind person. I don’t want to scare you off by being too forward, but.” His hands find their way to Jiwoon’s shoulders, fingers curled close against his neck. “When you’re ready, I’d like you to kiss me.”
“Is now too soon?” Jiwoon places his hands on Jinki’s shoulders.
“Now is perfect.”
It’s slow, nothing like Jinki is used to. He makes a keen noise high in his throat, smiling against Jiwoon’s lips, the scratch of his stubble on Jinki’s wind-chapped cheek. Jinki pulls away first, a shy smile and light dancing in his eyes.
“You can call me if you want.” Jinki takes Jiwoon’s hand in his. “Pay attention.” He slowly traces a series of shapes into Jiwoon’s palm with the tip of his finger. “Did you get it?”
Jiwoon pulls out his phone and rushes to type in the numbers, showing it to Jinki when he finishes.
Jiwoon laughs at the genuine surprise on Jinki’s face. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
“It would still be kind of suspicious, even if you dropped me a few blocks from home.” Jinki rocks on the heels of his feet, hands buried in the pockets of his loose jeans. “I’ll catch the train, it’s not far.”
They stand huddled together on the platform between ascending and descending stairs, in an easy silence, something Jiwoon suddenly feels he may have been on the verge of forgetting.
Jinki clears his throat. “Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful eyes?” The words are slow, practiced, like he’s been waiting to say it. Jiwoon nervously ducks his head. “They’re like gold in the light. They must be so gorgeous at sunset.” He pushes up on his toes and presses his lips softly to the corner of Jiwoon’s mouth.
“I hope we have another date soon so that I can see them like that.”
Jiwoon brushes his shoulder against Jinki’s, turning him toward the descending stairs. “Sure. If you’ll let me walk you to the station.”
I hope I presented everything well and actually finished this bc I didn't reread so if something feels uneven let me know.
quite explicit ^__^;;; and warning for erm I guess bondage huh;;;;;;;;;;;;
tell me what's good and what's not okay ;;
“You were working on more complicated knots earlier,” Jinki comments evenly over his shoulder with Jiwoon bowed behind him, tying off the binding around his wrists. He’s on his knees atop a plush powder pink pillow, almost the same shade as his collar, the heart lock resting heavy in the dip of his collarbones, wrists and ankles bound with soft pink rope of a similar shade.
“Well I have work at seven tomorrow, so I’d rather keep things simple.” Jiwoon checks the tension in the knot and, satisfied, slides his palm down Jinki’s back, fingertips teasing the sensitive skin where it curves.
“You could leave me tied up in bed until you got home.” Jinki breathes, eyes fluttering shut. Jiwoon kisses him between his shoulder blades, rough stubble sending jolts through Jinki’s sensitive skin. “And then,” Jinki inhales, focusing on Jiwoon’s hands as they slide lower. “And then when you got home you could,” he swallows, sighing contentedly when Jiwoon teases his entrance with the knuckle of his index finger. “And then you could fuck me all over again.”
Jiwoon looks up then, sees the way Jinki blushes, his eyelids heavy and eyes dark as he worries his lip pink.
“One step at a time,” is Jiwoon’s reply. He removes his hands and crosses to crouch in front of Jinki, on one knee as he rolls the sleeves of his pressed white shirt to his elbows, a fine watch on his hard wrist. He picks up a leash, long silver chair and a muted pink leather strap, from beside him and hooks it onto the collar’s ring, just above the heart-shaped lock. “What are you thinking?” He slides his hand down the chain.
“I’m thinking of taking the obvious road,” he gazes up, eyes incredibly steady. “Jiwoon ah.” His lips purse around the ‘oo’ sound and Jiwoon immediately understands what he means.
Jiwoon stands, pushing up on one knee, and he takes special care not to look at Jinki. He holds the pink strap of the leash in his limp hand, watching with sharp eyes as Jinki shuffles forward on his knees, sees the flash of teeth between which the zipper is held tight, Jinki’s breath warm and hungry against him, between his exposed thighs.
Jiwoon is nowhere near as hard as Jinki, but it won’t take him long from here. As soon as Jinki’s lips purse around the head, he feels a sudden rush of heat.
“You know, I had to leave in the middle of my ethics lecture today,” Jinki says breathlessly, lips so close to Jiwoon, so wet. “We were talking about—utilitarianism? But I kept thinking about this, waiting for it. I went up to a bathroom on the third floor and masturbated.” He catches Jiwoon’s eyes for an instant, swirls his tongue around him with a defiant look and pulls back. “Jerked off.” His voice is rough. “Have you ever done it in public, Jiwoon ah?” He sucks, teeth edging on sensitive skin and pulls off to lick his lips, savouring his progress with a bright gaze.
“I kept hearing footsteps, and I thought what if someone catches me? And then I thought, what if I wouldn’t mind that?” He hears Jiwoon gasp and smiles. “I probably would. I only want your eyes to see me like this.”
He takes Jiwoon all the way in and laughs, relishing in the sudden tremble in his hips, and presses his nose against his pelvis when he reaches the base.
Jiwoon curls his fingers tight around the leash then, lets the sudden tension ring in the rattling of the chain. Jinki pulls off with an admittedly gratuitous pop and falls straight into a sitting position shoulders back, perfectly still despite his ragged breathing. He steps out of the trousers pooled at his feet and undoes his shirt with one hand, the other still tensed around the leash as he walks behind Jinki, kicking the pillow out of the way as he does so. Once kneeled behind Jinki, he sets the leash down and pushes the shirt off tossing it a few feet away before opening the bottle of lubricant and spreading the liquid over his squared fingers. Jinki’s breathing picks up at the faint sound.
Jiwoon pushes Jinki’s face into the pillow, pries him open on two slick fingers. “Jiwoon ah,” Jinki moans pushing back onto his fingers. “Jiwoon ah, more.” He slides in a third, twisting them on the downbeat of Jinki’s gasps, pressing into the spot he likes best and a dry moan is pulled from his throat. Jinki’s eyes are shut, and Jiwoon watches the tension in his shoulders, feels the tightening of muscles under the palm he has pressed to Jinki’s lower back. Wet pants fall from his lips as Jiwoon’s fingers spread inside of him, his body moving forward, seeking something more.
“Lavender,” Jinki groans. Jiwoon stops and pulls his fingers out, moving to face Jinki.
Jinki nods with a tight-lipped smile. “I was just wondering…” He trails off, and coupled with the shy way he averts his eyes, Jiwoon thinks that the red in his cheeks is from embarrassment. His gaze soften and he presses the back of his clean hand to Jinki’s cheek.
“Well.” He raises his eyes slowly to meet Jiwoon’s. “We have a gag, right? And the blindfold… in the white box. Isn’t it about time we break them in? Jiwoon ah.” He leans forward, and Jiwoon’s eyes linger on the skin pulled taut across his still-heaving chest, his peaked nipples. “Jiwoon ah,” Jinki sing-songs quietly. Jiwoon is lightning fast between the bathroom and the bedroom, returning with the smooth white box Jinki spoke of in his trembling hands.
He lifts the lid revealing a pink leather blindfold and a matching pink ball gag below it, both pristine.
“You have great tastes,” Jinki says with a dreamy tone to his voice as Jiwoon lifts the gag from the box. Jiwoon clears his throat, eyes averted in an almost shy way.
He determinedly squares his shoulders and turns to Jinki. “Tap your foot if once for go, two for stop, three for slow. Sound good?”
Jinki taps out their new code for practice, then once more after he checks Jiwoon’s reaction. “Okay. And one more thing.” He glances down at the hand strap of the leash. “Don’t let go for a while.” His voice is thin, and then he’s bowing his head, taking the ball between his teeth as it rests in Jiwoon’s palm. He cranes his neck up, light dancing in his brown eyes. Jiwoon watches the deep flush spread across Jinki’s cheeks as he clasps the hooks in the back of the gag so that the ball fits snugly between his teeth. Jinki exhales heavily through his nose, onto Jiwoon’s thumb as it presses against his lips, the edges of his prominent upper teeth.
“I’ll put on the blindfold, now.” Jinki taps his foot once. Jiwoon lifts the blind fold, pink leather and soft pink fur, against Jinki’s lowered eyelids. He adjusts the strap so that it doesn’t look like it will risk slipping.
“Okay?” One tap. Jinki’s back curves as he awaits Jiwoon, who is back behind him spreading lube over his fingers. He pushes Jinki’s face back against the pillow and stretches him on his fingers, taking the leash back in his hand. Jinki taps once and Jiwoon adjusts himself before thrusting in. A muffled moan reverberates in Jinki’s body, so deep that Jiwoon feels it.
He reaches down and strokes Jinki slowly, hips bucking into Jiwoon’s touch. Jinki’s feet tap once and Jiwoon picks up his pace, the chain of the leash rattling and shifting against the hardwood floor. Jinki’s moans are distorted, breath escaping through so many holes in the ball held between his teeth. Jiwoon watches him for flashes of pleasure beyond the way his eyes would fall closed, the way his fingers would hold to the sheets. He sees the ease between his shoulders, the way his lips are slack even held open, his cheek pressed to the pillow the way he let it when he was far gone on sensory pleasures.
He brings the hand between Jinki’s legs up to rest on his hip and Jinki’s body spasms with his needy moan at its absence. Jiwoon pulls back, dropping his previous rhythm and playing its counterpoint after a rest. Jinki’s cheeks flush suddenly and a drawn out moan warms his body, punctuated by gasps and inhales. Jiwoon pushes him forward, hips enticed by the tightness, the challenge of hitting Jinki just right with his legs held together. He knows he’s found it when a noise rises high in Jinki’s throat and he presses again and again, hips moving like they’ve found a formula. Jinki’s feet hit the floor once with force and Jiwoon drops the leash, leaning forward with one hand on the curve of his waist and the other stroking him just right until his body relaxes forward and he comes across the edge of the pillow and on the clean hardwood floors.
Jiwoon isn’t much later, riding through Jinki’s aftershocks until he comes inside of him, a warmth he never tires of, and his hips work out through the motions until he slumps along with Jinki, chest curved along his back. Once their breathing evens out, Jiwoon pulls out, and sits Jinki upright.
Jiwoon’s fingers begin to undo the blindfold when Jinki taps his foot twice. His fingers hesitate and then he moves them down to the clasp on the gag. Jinki taps once so he continues, relieving it gently from Jinki’s mouth and wiping at the saliva dripping down his face with a small towel tucked into the white box.
A shuddering breath fills Jinki’s chest, bruised red lips trembling and still pushes back leaving his prominent front teeth visible. Jiwoon wipes at his nose as it begins running. “Jiwoon,” Jinki breathes, muffled against the towel, neck craning up and posture unsure as to whether Jiwoon is really present before him. “Jiwoon ah.” Jinki’s body shakes slightly, moving forward and Jiwoon pulls him into his arms, a chaste kiss to his raw lips, a steadying hand on his cheek. He pushes the blindfold up and Jinki’s eyes are peculiarly large, the light in them soft and almost dancing when he meets them.
“I missed seeing you.” The words tumble from Jinki’s lips and his expression makes it seem like an accident. Jiwoon smiles kindly and steadies him before pulling away.
He kneels behind Jinki, nimbly untying the ropes holding his ankles and wrists together. “What did you think?” Jiwoon prompts, brows quirked and he watches Jinki’s shoulders.
“It’s a nice treat,” Jinki replies easily. “Did you like it?”
Jiwoon lowers his head, cheeks warm. “Yeah. As long as you do.”
“I do.” Jinki’s voice is warm and he feels it settle in his chest despite the distance between them, despite not seeing his face. Jiwoon coils the ropes around his fingers and sets them neatly next to the pillow. He removes the collar last, returning to his place in front of Jinki to do so, and Jinki moves over on the pillow to make room for it, a tacit promise to clean everything tomorrow.
He grabs a dirty towel quickly from atop the dresser and wipes the floor and the edge of the pillow, Jinki’s eyes on his fingers. When he finishes, Jiwoon offers Jinki his hand and they stand together, shuffling over to the dresser. Jinki pulls out two large shirts and Jiwoon has two pairs of underwear in his hands—boxer briefs for Jinki and modest boxers for himself.
“Jinki,” Jiwoon says softly, meeting Jinki’s eyes with a peculiar softness. Jinki feels himself turning red and reflexively covers his chest with the shirts in his hand. Jiwoon wraps his fingers lighter than air around Jinki’s wrist, kisses his bent knuckles. “Jinki.”
Jinki smiles, leaning into Jiwoon, his damp forehead on his shoulder. “Jiwoon.” Jiwoon wraps his arms around Jinki, his face buried in damp hair, their skin warm and natural together.
“Thank you.” Jinki wriggles from Jiwoon’s arms with a smile. He pushes up on his toes and slips one shirt over Jiwoon’s head and once Jiwoon’s arms are through he kneels and holds Jinki’s boxer-briefs for him to step into, sliding them up his hips. They finish dressing themselves and join hands as they shuffle to the bedroom.
“We’ll have a laundry day tomorrow,” Jiwoon tells him, flipping off the lights.
“I can’t wait,” Jinki answers.
a/n: I saw this on my dash a while ago n it's been the sorta image I had in mind for the gag at least oop oh well!~*~~*~*``8`aqsas,csmdsjsd
and this song got me through the last bunch ehehe;;;;
continuation of that short thing a few weeks? ago???
I had a bunch of pieces written, and sort of filled in around the images I liked... the result is, as always, deeply underwhelming. m(_ _)m I guess it was an interesting experience, but certainly the images I capture well are done a disservice by my overall laziness y__y);;;
and I feel that I write too seriously...? like the shorter bits are cute or funny, but the rest is overwrought in my opinion. I feel blank and dumb.
anyway.
nc17, 1588w. not proofread so let me know if I forgot something. like lube.
“Start small, Taemin,” Jinki tells him with gentle hand wrapped around his dick.
“Hyung I,” Taemin gasps, voice straining already. His mouth wavers and he looks like he might cry.
Jinki blushes to the tips of his ears and strokes slowly, not enough to get Taemin fully hard (though he’s well on his way on his own), certainly not enough to make him come. “Try doing scales, alright? Keep your voice steady, we’ll work on volume after.”
Taemin swallows around the dryness in his throat, parts his lips, and complies. When he finishes, Jinki insists that he do it backwards, trying not to stare at his throat, his lips bitten red. With a whine and a desperate shift of his hips as he seeks some friction from Jinki’s hand, he manages to do that as well.
“Good,” Jinki says with a smile, cheeks a steady shade of pink. Taemin whimpers when Jinki removes his hand. Jinki pulls his shirt over his head, though, and closes the space between himself and Taemin.
“What should we work on next?” Jinki’s hand finds its way back around Taemin, the angle slightly odd so Taemin shifts his hips to fit it. Jinki smiles.
“Anything,” Taemin sighs, hands grasping at the sheets when Jinki pulls his hand back again until the barest touch of his fingertips are all Taemin feels, flat fingernails like jolts of electricity against his hot skin. “Anything, please.”
Jinki advances on him, toned arms braced on either side of his slight frame. “Alright,” Jinki whispers against the corner of his mouth. “Anything.” He kisses softly, letting Taemin take the initiative. His swollen lips are hot against Jinki’s. Taemin draws his legs in, and Jinki groans when Taemin’s calf drags across his cock, hard and straining in his jeans.
Taemin pulls back to look in Jinki’s eyes, lets his fingers curve at Jinki’s waist as they breathe each other in, let’s them slide down to tug at the waistband. “Off,” he says, shy of a demand but that was how Taemin was most confident.
Jinki complies with lowered eyes and a smile, undoing the button on his jeans and pushing them off of his hips, along with his underwear.
“Touch yourself, hyung,” he says in the same voice. His eyes are steady, though it’s clear how quickly his heart is beating, how hard he works to calm his breathing. Jinki meets his gaze, less confidently this time. Taemin cocks his head slightly, chin raised and sings scales in a quiet voice; Jinki can hear how each note edges on a needy moan, a plea and Jinki wraps his hand slowly around his dick, shuffling the rest of the way out of his pants as he adjusts himself between Taemin’s legs.
Taemin whines when Jinki’s pace picks up, eyes shamelessly on Jinki’s hand as it works his own dick. Jinki looks up at his through damp bangs and lidded eyes. “Do you wanna touch? Taeminnie?” His face heats up at the use of the nickname, but it’s worth the bliss that glosses Taemin’s features.
“Yes,” Taemin breathes, trying to restrain himself from scrambling forward and take Jinki’s length into his hands.
“One condition.” Jinki curves his free hand over Taemin’s. “Keep singing. Music should be felt with the whole body.”
Taemin nods and shakily begins singing a song he’s heard pieces of over several months recently. He figures it’s what Jinki is hearing while he’s plugged in during down time, on the way to the airport, for the frequent flights across Korea, his lips working silently at times so Taemin has to hear with his eyes instead.
Jinki’s breath catches in his throat. Hearing those words in Taemin’s shy tones, as Taemin’s eyes and hands and mouth hungrily devour him, the vibrations of his throat ringing through Jinki’s muscles and blood and bones. Jinki’s fingers curl in Taemin’s hair and he whispers along with Taemin. He thinks back to the first time they did this, Taemin eager to learn on his eighteenth birthday, Jinki not thinking him serious until Taemin was between his thighs, pulling off Jinki’s trousers and kissing the insides of his thighs with reverent lips.
Jinki gasps when he repeatedly brushes the back of Taemin’s throat, hips jerking in response. “Taemin.” Jinki puts a steady hand on the back of his neck. “That’s good. That’s enough.”
Taemin obediently pulls off, still humming in the back of his throat.
“Taeminnie,” Jinki whispers as he looks into his eyes. He threads his fingers in Taemin’s hair and moves close, lips touching as they speak. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, hyung.” Taemin sings, spreading his legs farther apart as Jinki moves between them. He lowers them to the bed, Jinki’s bottom lip caught between his so he tugs it gently with his teeth.
Jinki kisses Taemin, edging their bodies closer to the dresser next to the bed, and he retrieves their lube without breaking away. He pours it slowly over his fingers as they kiss and slips his hand down between Taemin’s legs.
He rubs against Taemin with his knuckle before teasing with the hard flats of two fingers. Taemin rolls his hips forward greedily, panting without Jinki’s touch to ease him. Jinki obliges him, pushing both fingers in. A sweet moan like nectar falls from Taemin’s lips, and almost on instinct, out of desire to please, Jinki stretches him and curls his fingers to hit the spot that Taemin aches to be touched.
“Hyung, more,” he pleads, eyes closed. “More, please.” Jinki wraps his other hand around Taemin and strokes him with agonizing slowness. He spreads and curls his fingers in a usual rhythm that Taemin’s body has always responded to best. Jinki shifts, feeling the tightness in his cock and takes his hand from Taemin to prepare himself. Taemin whines but watches with anticipation, the slick sheen of lube covering Jinki’s fingers. Pulls his fingers out suddenly and lines himself up with Taemin.
“Hyung!” The lilt of Taemin’s voice is musical and Jinki can’t help plunging in, all the way in one movement. Taemin’s back arches and he grasps at Jinki’s hair, fingers tugging at the short locks.
“Louder.” Jinki cards his fingers through Taemin’s damp hair as he rocks into him, the bed springs squeaking.
“Harder,” Taemin answers, voice wrought. His nails run red lines into Jinki’s soft thighs as he tries to urge him on.
“Louder,” Jinki insists, moaning so loudly Taemin’s heart jumps when he thinks people on the streets might be able to hear. He manages a smirk at the surprise in Taemin’s eyes. “Like that.”
Taemin squeezes his eyes shut and opens his mouth, lips trembling as a small, breathless sound builds gradually into a crescendo of moans, Jinki’s accuracy with each movement of his hips, his mouth at Taemin’s nipples, the dip in his collarbones, all pushing Taemin closer to the edge.
His small fingers hold tight at Jinki’s shoulders, thighs shaking as he moves up and down on his cock, face covered in sweat. He watches in rapt fascination, where his and Jinki’s bodies connect. Jinki feels a tight curl in his stomach; Taemin’s tongue pokes past his lips and slowly runs over them.
“Taemin,” Jinki calls without necessarily meaning to. Taemin lifts his head to meet Jinki’s gaze, eyes round and dark like jewels. Jinki presses forward, biting Taemin’s lower lip, sliding his tongue into Taemin’s mouth, knuckles pressed against the curve of his neck.
“Upright,” Taemin breathes, fingernails dragging across Jinki’s back. “Upright, upright, it’s—the best position for,” he gasps, eyes opening wide. “For the voice.”
“Sing, Taemin,” Jinki groans as he thrusts in, hoisting their bodies back up so that Taemin. “Sing for me.”
Taemin’s fingers scramble against Jinki’s naked back, his hot palms burning like brands against his sensitive skin.
“Jinki!” Taemin sings his name out like a hymn and it makes Jinki dizzy.
“One more time,” Jinki gasps. He grips Taemin’s shoulders and thrusts up into him. Taemin parts his raw, pink lips and as sound comes out, Jinki closes his mouth over them and swallows it, tongue laving heat against heat as he comes inside of Taemin. In the same moment he feels Taemin’s body curl against his, and the not unfamiliar feeling of him coming against his stomach in successive motions. Jinki runs his hands slowly over the planes of Taemin’s back, Taemin’s arms slung over his shoulders as they use each other’s breath to steady their heart rates.
Taemin eases away, stretching over the bed to grab at a towel on the floor. Jinki is collapsed on his back, looking hazy, and sleepy and glowing pleasantly as Taemin cleans Jinki’s chest, licking off the few remaining drops with a cheeky smile. “You’re getting better,” Jinki tells him with a sly smile, ruffling Taemin’s hair. Taemin smiles and shuffles up to bend over Jinki. Jinki leans up and kisses the familiar taste of Taemin from his mouth eagerly.
“Thanks,” he replies with a shy turn of his eyes. Their hands find one another in the comfortable silence. “So what should we do? I want to keep… getting better.” Taemin turns his head and sees Jinki peering curiously at him. “Vocal training is a continuing process,” he emulates in the stiff tones of their vocal coach.
Jinki laughs and slips an arm behind Taemin’s shoulders, curling it to bring him closer. “I know, I know.” He smiles against Taemin’s neck, the curve of his shoulder. “We can set up a practice schedule if you’d like.”
I mostly liked the thought of kyu in fur and diamonds and expensive lingerie
but I got bored after a certain point
changkyu, nc17
Kyuhyun brings the thin lip of the glass to his own, taking a drink of the sparkling clear liquid inside. He leans back forward, setting the glass down by its long stem, expensive watch sliding down his wrist from beneath the luxurious brown fur coat he settles back into.
New Year’s Eve, and he is all alone.
The tip of his nail drags across the rubber button at the top of the remote and the television flickers off with a hum, muting the ringing of bells and cheers for the New Year, a dim light fading across the screen like light dipping beyond the horizon. A single lamp lights the room from its shaded corner. Kyuhyun props his feet on the glass table in front of him, legs shaking and unsure in the sharp black heels, but the newness excites him. He turns his leg slightly and with focused eyes—sharper still, lined in black—traces the line of his stockings’ backseam to where it stops near the top of his thigh, tight, sheer black nylon and lace against pale skin. The black garters and garter belt are a new touch, accented with modest black ribbons and gold adjustment clasps, all cutting pale red lines into his soft skin and without thinking too much about it a hand, fingers glistening with modest yet lavish jewels, experimentally dips below the crest of his pale chiffon panties and rubs his cock. The slight chill of the rings is a sharp counterpoint to the calescence of his body and his head lolls to the side, a moan slipping past his lips into the plush fur pooled on his shoulder.
He strokes himself slowly, quietly replaying Changmin’s promise to be home in time for New Year’s in his head as he drags his hand up across his stomach and back down to rub himself through smooth chiffon, fingernails on his other hand grasping at the edges of the sofa. He remembers that earnest smile, the light shimmering across Changmin’s eyes, the way his ears seem to perk up, and Kyuhyun’s hips are trembling. As he’s pulling the panties further down his hips, slipping his hardening cock from the tight fabric, he hears a familiar slam and the heavy click of heels approaching. The sound stops in front of the door to the den and Kyuhyun bites down softly on his lip. The door opens slowly and Changmin is there, silhouetted in the pale light pouring in through the windows behind him.
His cheeks are red from the cold, Kyuhyun sees as he steps into the room, but his jaw is loose, eyes playful. “You’re so good.” Changmin wastes no time undoing the buttons on his pea coat and shrugging it to the ground; it lands with a muffled sound on the marble floor and he raises his brows minutely where they meet a dark swoop of hair above his eyes. Kyuhyun glares at Changmin as he rolls his hips upward, hand loose around his flushed cock. Changmin’s lips curl into a smirk that his tongue darts out to wet. “You’re barely half hard.” He catches Kyuhyun’s eyes. “You were waiting for me.”
Kyuhyun manages to catch the moan in his throat, glaring openly at Changmin as he jerks himself. “You said you’d be here,” he answers simply, turning his face into the soft collar of the coat and rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock.
“I’m here now aren’t I?” Changmin’s voice is barely more than a rumble, and suddenly Kyuhyun’s skin is electric with anticipation. His free hand finds its way to his right nipple, barely covered by the translucent fabric of a black lace bra.
“You made me wait.” Kyuhyun muffles a moan in the plush fur as his fingers circle his small brown nipple, the other stroking leisurely down his length.
Changmin crosses the room to stand in front of Kyuhyun, fully dressed in his uniform down to his polished black loafers. Wordlessly, he first unbuttons his fitted black blazer and removes it, folding it over his arm before letting it fall neatly onto the coffee table – Kyuhyun turns his eyes to Changmin, feigning disinterest. Changmin undoes the buckle on his holster and shrugs it to the ground where it lands in the carpet with a muted sound. Kyuhyun’s breath catches audibly, hand stroking faster. Changmin curls his wrist, and tugs minutely at the tip of each of his black leather gloves’ fingers. Kyuhyun lowers his chin and strokes himself slowly, watching openly now as Changmin tosses one glove to the side and begins the same action with his other hand. Changmin cracks his knuckles once he’s removed both gloves, and stretches his arms, loosening his tie with an effortless tug at the knot as he moves closer to Kyuhyun.
He takes no time crawling under Kyuhyun’s legs where they are still propped up on the table, settling between his thighs; he caresses their sides as he wraps his lips around the head of Kyuhyun’s cock in nothing more than greeting, but Kyuhyun’s hips respond anyway, pushing in a little further before Changmin pulls away, slowly enough that he can be sure Kyuhyun sees the string of precome clinging to his lips as he does so.
The moment he catches Kyuhyun’s eyes widening, he smirks and begins trailing open-mouthed kisses across Kyuhyun’s stomach, savoring the skin between the complicated lines of garter belt. Kyuhyun’s hands are at Changmin’s collar, half undoing the buttons of his shirt, half urging him on faster. His trail farther up, along his collarbone, neck, until he reaches the quirked corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth. For a moment neither of them move, breathing in tandem and waiting for the other to initiate the next step. In the same moment as Kyuhyun spreads his hands across Changmin’s chest, pushing the open shirt from his defined shoulders, Changmin slides a rough hand under the coat and up to the small of Kyuhyun’s back where he grips tightly, blunt nails digging into soft skin. The other hand is supporting Kyuhyun from the bend in his knees.
He whines when Changmin hoists him up and quickly wraps his legs around Changmin’s waist. He makes a wet, pleading sound deep in his throat then, and Changmin’s eyes find his immediately in the dimness, the dark brown suddenly catching all of the light in the room. Their lips meet somewhere in the space between them. Changmin eases them both to the ground, Kyuhyun’s fingertips pressed lightly to his face, dark hair fanned out against pale marble. Soft lashes lowered, Kyuhyun leans up on his elbows and kisses Changmin slowly, mouths blooming pink. Changmin breaks away and leaves kisses down Kyuhyun’s neck with hungry lips, in the space behind his ear where his jaw bone protrudes, the bend in his shoulder, the mole just below his collarbone, completely removing his shirt as he does so. Kyuhyun whines a little with each touch of Changmin’s lips, growing harder, hips restless.
Changmin pulls up and places a soft kiss to Kyuhyun’s forehead. “Happy new year,” he whispers barely above the hum of the room’s quiet before he moves to Kyuhyun’s lips. He bites Kyuhyun’s bottom lip, then swipes his tongue across, the slightly sticky sensation of mint gloss sticking to his tongue. “What do you want?” He asks eyes dark.
“I cleaned up, so…” Kyuhyun’s eyes meet Changmin’s and Changmin leans down to kiss him again. His shyness quickly gives way to arousal as Changmin runs his tongue over Kyuhyun’s nipple through the coarse lace of his sheer bra, curling his long fingers around Kyuhyun’s shaft and stroking it slowly. Kyuhyun cards his fingers through Changmin’s hair in turn.
Kyuhyun writhes impatiently, looking so sweet, his skin glistening and flushed and he shrugs his way out of the coat a little, bra pulled taut against his chest. Changmin answers with a soft smile, his eyes lowered as he undoes his belt with one hand. Kyuhyun eyes the erection straining in Changmin’s navy boxer briefs, as he pushes his way out of his fitted slacks, the fabric already tight on his narrow hips and muscular thighs.
A satisfied smirk rolls across Kyuhyun’s face when he catches sight of the braces he bought Changmin fit perfectly around his muscular calves.
Kyuhyun lets out a breathless sigh and hitches his legs up, rubbing his calf against Changmin’s impatiently.
Changmin coats two fingers in lube, careful not to spill any, and he rubs his hand up the back of Kyuhyun’s thigh.
“Turn over,” he urges him softly.
Kyuhyun complies with a soft sound, spreading his knees and positioning himself so that he can see Changmin behind him. Changmin pushes the coat further up Kyuhyun’s back and smiles softly, hand curling against Kyuhyun’s hip. Kyuhyun’s panties are open in the back, either tied at the top with a neat ribbon, or sporting one purely for decoration, Changmin can’t tell which. He pulls a condom from the pocket of his pants and as he blows his breath against Kyuhyun’s entrance. Kyuhyun makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan and it makes Changmin that much harder. Changmin spreads Kyuhyun with his hands rolls the open rubber across Kyuhyun’s , with his hands and presses his tongue to the entrance.
“You’re gorgeous,” Changmin grunts, knuckles white as he thrusts hard into Kyuhyun.
Changmin wraps one arm around Kyuhyun’s thigh and leans to kiss and suck at a swath of uncovered skin there hard enough to leave a mark.
