To celebrate EXO's first year anniversary, the company sponsors them to dinner at a nice, classy restaurant—not too fancy, because this is SM, after all, but fancy enough that they're all wearing ties and pressed slacks and shoes that haven't been scuffed by too many days in the dance practice room. EXO K sits at one end of the table and EXO M sits at the other, with their managers bringing up the heads, and it all feels very formal and official, which is probably the only thing that keeps them all from goofing off too much.
Still, it only takes Jongin an hour and a half to start trying to play footsie with Kyungsoo under the table.
The first time Jongin slides his toes up the inside of Kyungsoo's calf, Kyungsoo chokes on his tea, and Junmyeon has to pound his back for a moment, watching Kyungsoo with a concerned face. After that Kyungsoo is careful not to look at Jongin, at least until he's positive that he can look that way without blushing.
"Are you okay, Kyungsoo hyung?" Jongin asks, his expression straightfaced but his eyes sparkling with poorly-suppressed amusement.
Kyungsoo furrows his brow in his best go away I hate you expression. "I'm fine," he says, trying to inject as much warning as he can into his voice without it being noticeable to those around them. The last thing he needs is Chanyeol asking, loudly, why he's giving Jongin a death glare over their samgyupsal.
A few moments later, Jongin's foot slides up Kyungsoo's leg again, only this time it's his upper thigh, and Kyungsoo jumps so high he bangs his elbow on the table and rattles the dishes at their end. Junmyeon looks back over at him, astounded, and Kyungsoo turns the fiercest shade of red he thinks it's possible to turn. "Sorry," he mumbles, scooting back and standing up, brushing invisible dirt off his backside. "I have to—go to the bathroom."
When Jongin comes in, a minute later, Kyungsoo is staring at his own still-pink face in the mirror. When the door is closed Kyungsoo whirls around and fixes Jongin with the closest thing to a glare Kyungsoo can manage when it's Jongin on the receiving end. "You're insufferable!" he exclaims, poking Jongin in the chest. "Are you trying to get us in trouble?"
But Jongin just laughs and pulls Kyungsoo in by his tie, leans down and closes his mouth with a soft, warm kiss, and Kyungsoo shuts up. He wraps his arms up around Jongin's neck and melts into it, and when Jongin pulls away Kyungsoo can't even remember why he was mad to begin with.
"Happy debut anniversary," Jongin says, nuzzling just below Kyungsoo's ear.
Kyungsoo shivers and laughs and untucks Jongin's dress shirt from the waistband of his pants, sliding his hands up the flat plane of Jongin's back. "Happy debut anniversary to you, too," he replies, mouthing a kiss against Jongin's throat, just above where his collar is. "We have probably five minutes before the managers start looking for us."
There's nothing graceful about the way Jongin shoves Kyungsoo back into the bathroom stall, or about they way they kiss, all slick tongues and lips as their hands work into each others' pants. But Kyungsoo has never really needed elegance as long as he has Jongin, so he's content to be jerked off rough and brutal, muffling gasps and sighs into Jongin's mouth as he tries his best to return the favor.
"Holy shit," Jongin murmurs, then sucks on Kyungsoo's lower lip, teeth dragging against it. "You make me so easy—"
And it's true, Jongin is easy for Kyungsoo. Or maybe it's just that they've been doing this for so long that Kyungsoo knows exactly how to twist his wrist, how to flick his fingers to have Jongin trembling against him, knees shaking as he spills into Kyungso's cupped hand.
Jongin falls still after that, and Kyungsoo whines impatiently, jerking his hips up into Jongin's loose fist. It takes a second for the message to get through, but it does, and Jongin laughs and fists Kyungsoo and strokes, once, twice, three times before Kyungsoo bites down on his own tongue and comes so hard he sees stars.
They clean each other up with toilet paper, Jongin giggling a little immaturely as they flush it down the pipes. It's not like it's the first time, but Kyungsoo doesn't say anything, because he's happy and sated and content with his life. "Does this mean you're going to stop trying to fondle me while I eat?" he asks as they wash their hands, shooting a sidelong glance over at Jongin at the next sink.
Jongin smiles, all teeth and innocence that Kyungsoo doesn't believe for a second. "No promises."
Usually, people think that it's Jongin who started this—Jongin who cornered Zitao in the practice room sometime, and that's how they fell into this strange pattern of theirs. That's Jongin's persona, the go-getter bad boy, and that's what he wants people to believe most times, but in this, in fact, it wasn't Jongin's fault at all. Jongin had watched Zitao, surreptitiously, from the corner of his eye for months before Zitao got fed up with the surveillance, pinned Jongin up against the dance room mirror, and kissed him until he saw stars.
Fast forward.
Zitao presses up against Jongin's back, mouths a hot kiss against the nape of his neck. "Wider," he says, and for a second Jongin's not sure what he means, but then Zitao nudges one of Jongin's feet with his foot and he gets it. Legs wider. Sometimes sex with Zitao is an adventure, because they don't teach you how to say I'm going to fuck you until you beg in any Introductory Korean course. Jongin still hasn't worked out which it is of the many things Zitao says to him during sex, but he's sure he'll get it one day.
Cool air on his ass jerks Jongin back to the present as Zitao tugs his workout pants down, his briefs too, down to his thighs. Jongin, braced against the mirror, cranes his neck back to look at Zitao, but he can't get a glimpse of much more than just Zitao's shoulder and upper arm. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Your..." It seems like Zitao doesn't know the word for ass in Korean, so he just gestures in its general vicinity. "It's nice."
Jongin flushes over the bridge of his nose and turns his face back toward the mirror. "Thanks," he says, watching their reflections as Zitao moves behind him. Zitao's fingers are warm as he traces the dimples at the base of Jongin's spine, then lower, his palm spreading out and fingers curving over the swell of his ass. Zitao has big hands.
He sees the slap coming a split second before it lands, but that doesn't make Jongin ready. His whole body jerks, and he bites down on his lip so hard he almost breaks skin. "What the fuck," Jongin demands, his skin tingling where Zitao's hand made contact—blood rushing to the abused skin, warming it.
"Mm?" Zitao says, his fingers caressing Jongin's ass again. He slaps it again, the other cheek, this time, and Jongin swears, his breath catching in his throat. "Should I stop?"
After a moment of war with himself, Jongin mutters, "No."
As long as Jongin doesn't think too hard about it—about the fact that he's letting Zitao spank him in the open air of their dance practice studio, pants around his thighs like he's easy—it's kind of hot. Zitao's hands are large and the sounds they make against Jongin's skin are obscene, echoing in the studio, as do the whimpers Jongin can't help but release every time Zitao's palm makes contact with the abused flesh of his ass. It hurts, a lot, it stings, but Jongin likes it, likes the tingling and the warmth and the anticipation just before Zitao slaps him again.
After a while—could be an hour, could be ten minutes, Jongin's not really sure—Zitao reaches around and wraps his hand around Jongin's cock, and it takes literally two strokes for Jongin to come in a shuddering mess over Zitao's fingers. He hadn't noticed how hard he was—had been too focused on the pain in his ass, but the orgasm totally sates him, strings Jongin right out until he's slumping against the mirror and trying to catch his breath.
Zitao laughs, maybe at how easy Jongin is for him, and presses Jongin's chest against the mirror with one strong hand against Jongin's back. He holds Jongin there for a minute, and Jongin is about to push away and ask Zitao what the fuck he's doing when he feels Zitao come on him, on his ass, over the skin that Zitao had just spent so long abusing. Zitao's come is hot on Jongin's sensitive flesh, and Jongin moans, before the rational part of his brain catches up. "My underwear are going to be ruined," he points out, looking back over his shoulder and giving Zitao a poisonous look. "Are you going to take responsibility?"
All he gets in return is a peace sign and something in Mandarin that Jongin doesn't understand, but somehow he knows that's the best that Zitao is going to do.
here are perfect taokai gifs for perfect taokai fic/writer http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5o88zCNDh1qfhv0yo1_250.gif http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5o88zCNDh1qfhv0yo2_250.gif
THIS IS AU BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL LIKE DEALING WITH REALITY
--
The trouble is that Mingi has this little smile—the littlest smile, more like a quirk at the corners of his lips—and a way of looking up through his eyelashes that makes Himchan pretty much want to do whatever Mingi wants, whenever he wants it. He's wondered a few times how healthy that is, but Mingi never uses it to get anything that Himchan isn't willing to give, and besides, Himchan's not even totally sure Mingi knows he's doing it—it seems like one of those things that just comes naturally to Mingi, like the way he flicks his fingers to get things off of them or the way he laughs when he thinks nobody's looking.
Right now, though, Himchan is pretty sure that Mingi knows exactly what he's doing. There's not a lot of room for interpretation when they're partially naked and tangled up on Himchan's bed, when Mingi's fingertips are tracing maddening circles just above the button of Himchan's jeans and he's sucking on his lower lip as he waits for Himchan to answer.
"But, I," Himchan says, "you," and then Mingi's fingers hook into the front of his jeans and his brain short-circuits a little.
The other trouble is that Mingi is small and delicate-looking, despite the heavy Busan drawl that he speaks when he's tired or just distracted, and he has pretty hands and a soft, curvy mouth and big eyes and Himchan is so, so unsure about whether it's, like, ethically wrong for him to want to have sex with Mingi. It's not a question of age of consent—Mingi's old enough, certainly—but there's something about him that Himchan just wants to protect and shield and take care of, and that's a little hard to do when you're busy spreading someone out on the bed.
Right.
The trouble is, Himchan's not totally sure what to say when Mingi does things like press his lips against the space just below Himchan's jaw and whisper, satoori and all, "Hyung, I want you to fuck me." Hence the circuitry trouble in Himchan's brain right now.
"Are you sure?" he finally manages, even though it's hard for Himchan to deny that he's getting harder by the second, cock twitching at the very idea of Mingi moaning his name. "I mean, that's a big thing, like, you really have to be sure about that—"
"Trust me," Mingi says, popping the button of Himchan's jeans. "I'm sure."
From there, it's startlingly easy. Scary, almost, how easy it is for Himchan to get Mingi out of his skinny jeans, and then out of his underwear, how easy it is to lose himself in drinking in the long, slender lines of Mingi's body. Mingi moves like he knows exactly what every part of his body is doing at all times, like he's not just on the other side of a growth spurt, like Mingi never went through the awkward phase of puberty where you're never quite sure what your body is doing (or maybe that was just Himchan). He's gorgeous, and when he's naked Mingi's mouth looks less childish than it does sultry, his eyes less innocent than they are wanting. Himchan is probably going to hell, but oh, god, it's going to be such a sweet trip.
Mingi is unfairly responsive, all soft sighs and whimpers as Himchan slides a lube-slick finger into Mingi's body. "Are you still sure?" Himchan asks, his palm pressed soothingly against Mingi's hipbone. "I mean, this is the weird part—"
"Hyung," Mingi says, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at Himchan. "Just shut up, okay? I'm sure. I've been sure."
It's a suckerpunch to the libido in the best way, and Himchan shivers, biting his lip against an undoubtedly dorky grin as he ducks his head down a little and presses his finger upward. Mingi's body is pliant and unresisting, and it's not long before Himchan is adding a second finger, and then a third, pressing upward until he finds Mingi's prostate and sends his back off the bed in a delicious arch. "It's pretty good, right?" Himchan asks, perhaps redundantly, massaging the pads of his fingers against that place over and over again.
Mingi gasps something so filthy it shocks even Himchan, and then adds, "If you stop I swear to god I'm going to claw your face off, oh, fuck, hyung."
"Well, then," Himchan says, and doesn't stop.
At least, he doesn't stop until Mingi tells him to, and by then Himchan is so hard that he feels like his entire being is concentrated in that throbbing ache between his legs. Mingi gasps "Wait," and reaches down to take hold of Himchan's wrist and pull his fingers out, offering a lazy smile as compensation. "You'll make me come," he explains, and Himchan shakes his head, not out of denial but because he's not sure he's ever going to get used to hearing words like fuck and come and cock coming out of Choi Mingi's mouth.
"Then what?" Himchan asks, a moment before Mingi shoves him down on the bed and straddles Himchan's hips in one smooth, easy motion. "—Oh."
"Yeah," Mingi says, "oh."
He reaches back with a hand slicked in lube—when did he even pick that up? Himchan didn't even notice—to smooth it over Himchan's cock, then hold it at the base, settling back onto it in slow increments. It's impossibly tight and hot and fantastic and honestly, Himchan's not sure what forces of god or devil made him say no to this for this long, when it feels like he fits into Mingi's body like he was meant to be there. Mingi is panting nonsense, lips parted and head tilted back, and he looks like the very picture of sin but yeah, Himchan's pretty far gone already, may as well go big or go home.
Settling his hands at Mingi's waist, Himchan swallows hard and says, "Tell me when you're ready."
After a moment of just breathing, Mingi looks down at him, that same half-smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Hyung, when I'm ready, you'll know," he says, and Himchan doesn't even have time to wonder what that means before Mingi starts to move.
It's kind of a little (a lot) mind-blowing, the way Mingi rolls his hips—that's the first thing Himchan thinks of, which, he'll think later, is a little stupid, considering. But it's true—Mingi leans back and braces himself on Himchan's thigh and moves and it's like nothing that Himchan had ever expected and everything that he wanted all rolled up into one bewilderingly arousing package. Honestly, Himchan can't even do anything, because Mingi is so thoroughly in control of both his own movements and this entire situation—this can't be his first time, Himchan realizes, and though the thought should irritate him, all it does is make him moan.
Mingi gives him absolutely no quarter, and it doesn't take all that long before Himchan—embarrassingly—palms at the rise of Mingi's hipbones and gasps something incoherent before coming. Mingi laughs, but it's desperate and breathless, and when Himchan gets too sensitive to keep thrusting into him, he pulls out and all but throws Mingi back down onto the bed.
"Tell me what you want," he gasps, and Mingi smirks, stretches out and spreads his legs like he wants Himchan between them. (He probably does.)
"Your fingers," Mingi says, his own fingertips tripping along his ribs and stomach. "Please, hyung, I need—"
This time it's Himchan's turn to cut Mingi off, although he does it with a lot less finesse and grace than Mingi had done to him, sliding three fingers into Mingi (he doesn't even need lube, Mingi is sloppy from Himchan's orgasm anyway) and pressing up, relentless, until Mingi has to bite down on the outside of his wrist to keep himself from moaning too loudly (Himchan does have neighbors, after all). It's sort of gorgeous to watch Mingi fall apart, his skin shining sweat-slick and his eyes fluttering closed, stomach and thigh muscles tensing as he rocks back into Himchan's fingers with a kind of singleminded intensity that makes Himchan dizzy.
When Mingi comes it's with a gasp, followed by a low moan of Himchan's name stifled against the skin of his forearm, and then Mingi spills all over his own stomach, with no help from Himchan whatsoever. Himchan works him through it, keeps his fingers up against Mingi's prostate until Mingi squirms away, exhausted and oversensitive.
"Mmmgnh," is the sound Mingi makes when Himchan withdraws his fingers, wiping them carelessly on the bed and then sprawling out next to Mingi. Even like this, messy and spent, with Himchan's come between his legs and his own smeared on his lower stomach, Mingi is gorgeous, and the look in his eyes when he finally opens them to glance up at Himchan is enough to stop Himchan in his tracks.
"So," Himchan says, at a loss for words.
"So," Mingi says, reaching out to wrap his fingers around Himchan's wrist, "stop staring like a creep and cuddle me. I can feel your come, that's gross, next time you're using a condom."
"Yes, sir," Himchan says with a laugh (to hide his blush), and he wraps his arms around Mingi, lets Mingi fold himself into Himchan's chest and relax there. This, at least, is familiar, even if nothing else about this evening has been.
"Let's do that again sometime," Mingi suggests into the hollow of Himchan's collarbone, and Himchan wonders when (if ever) he's going to learn to resist.
I WORKED EVEN BETTER THAN I IMAGINED??? I DON'T KNOW IF IT'S JUST A GOOD PAIRING OR YOU'RE JUST A MAGICAL WHEN IT COMES TO FILTHY SMUT BUT I NO CURRRRR BECAUSE MINGI HOLY FUCK AND HIMCHAN DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH HE'S FUCKED WITH THIS KID AND A++++
/ROLLS AROUND ON THE FLOOR
i read this first thing in the morning. this is what I woke up to okay. AND I'M SO OKAY WITH MY CHOICES OMFG.
/Mingi gasps something so filthy it shocks even Himchan, and then adds, "If you stop I swear to god I'm going to claw your face off, oh, fuck, hyung."/
AKDFJASLFJL;AFJ; MINGI JUST. THIS LINE T____T IT'S LIKE. ENCAPSULATION OF ENTIRE SITUATION AND SO GOOD.
DEING DEAD DEADER ALL THE PRONZ AWARDZZZZ
and now you all know what an excellent pairing this is. and that Emily is the conquerer of teh smut
Jongin wakes Kyungsoo up, five minutes before his alarm goes off, by flopping on top of him and pressing his face into the curve of Kyungsoo's shoulder. His breath is warm against Kyungsoo's skin, and Kyungsoo blinks sleep out of his eyes, his hands already coming up to wrap around Jongin's middle and press gently to his lower back. Jongin's skin is warm, and Kyungsoo has ceased being surprised that Jongin sleeps without a shirt even in other countries.
Jongin whuffles something into Kyungsoo's neck, and Kyungsoo squirms a little, laughing. "I didn't catch that," he says, digging his fingertips ever-so-gently into Jongin's ribs. "Repeat~?"
"I said, I'm feeling spontaneous," Jongin repeats, pulling his face a little bit away so his words don't come out muffled. "Let's go on a Disneyland date." He laughs, a little shy, and flops over onto his side to curl up with his cheek against Kyungsoo's shoulder. "A secret Disneyland date. Okay?"
Kyungsoo blinks again, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and then smiles, because how is he supposed to say anything other than yes when Jongin is looking at him with those big stupid sleepy puppy eyes that he knows Kyungsoo can't resist? "Okay," he agrees, rolling onto his side as well and curling into Jongin. "But first let's sleep for two more minutes until my alarm goes off."
As far as dates go, it's pretty uneventful. They don't hold hands, at least not much, and Jongin insists on buying all of Kyungsoo's snacks, because, he says, "I asked you out so I should foot the bill!" They do, however, ride a lot of rides together, and even with the near constant presence of fans at the periphery of Kyungsoo's vision, he keeps catching Jongin looking at him, wearing the small, quiet kind of smile that Kyungsoo likes to think is reserved for him and him alone.
Afterward, when they stop by their hotel rooms to drop off some things before going to dinner, Jongin wraps his arms around Kyungsoo from behind and kisses the back of his shoulder, then rests his chin on it, saying, "I think it was a pretty good date."
Kyungsoo leans back into the warmth of Jongin's body and smiles up at him. Even without the handholding, even without the ability to touch each other and act like it means something—all Kyungsoo needs, after all, is this. "I think so, too," he agrees, and leans up for a kiss.
Kyungjong knows when he first meets Hajin—introduced to him by Jihyuk, who knows him through Byunghee, or maybe it's the other way around—Kyungjong knows that he's not Hajin's type. Hajin is tall and gangly and handsome in a puppyish way, all long limbs and curly hair and the kind of easy, unassuming grin that girls fall for hard and fast. And, most importantly, Hajin likes girls.
Hajin likes girls a lot, actually. Kyungjong learns that quickly. Hajin likes tiny girls with delicate hands and long hair, pouty lips and dark eyelashes and legs that look longer than they are. He likes the curves of girls' waists and the shadows of their cleavage, when their shirts slip down and they don't notice. Hajin is a connoisseur of girls, an appreciator of the female form, and Kyungjong knows he will never be Hajin's type.
"Want to know something?" Hajin asks one night, when he's drunk and covered in lipstick marks, sitting in the bathroom while Kyungjong wets a cloth to put on Hajin's forehead.
"What?"
"If you were a girl," Hajin begins, and Kyungjong knows, with a sick sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, exactly where this is going, "I would totally date you. You'd be my ideal type!"
"The hell are you talking about, man?" Kyungjong demands, his voice too loud to cover up the sudden thickness in the back of his throat. Hajin is too drunk to notice, anyway. Not that he needs alcohol to be oblivious—he's pretty good at that on his own. "Put this on your face."
Kyungjong is tiny, sure and he has delicate hands, and sometimes he pouts more than he means to. But he's a boy, definitely. Delicate hands attached to strong wrists and forearms and biceps, and his waist will never curve like a girl's does, and Kyungjong will never catch Hajin's attention in a cloud of perfume and sultry murmurs and long hair.
He doesn't want to be all that, honestly. Kyungjong just wishes that who he is could be enough.
From the moment that they meet, Kyungjong knows that he'll never be Hajin's type, but he doesn't really know it until the birthday that Hajin forgets. Forgets because of a girl, honestly, like there wasn't enough salt that Hajin pours in the wound on a normal day—and Kyungjong wants it to be okay. He really wishes he could be okay with it, just laugh because Hajin is so predictable and move on. But he can't, and it's not okay, because even if Kyungjong knows he will never be Hajin's type, he at least thought (hoped) that he would be more important than the nameless, faceless girls that Hajin runs through ten a week.
But even in that, it seems like Kyungjong was wrong.
FUCK ING CRYING. I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO READING THIS FOR HOURS BUT I JAD COMPANY BUT UAGHHH!! KYUNGJONG BB T^T why did I ask for this again?? I must be an otp masochist >~< ok so now I'm going to need you to write a long fic version of this. Actually... Can you just write an entire SUFBB longfic in which all the angst of all the friendships and other ships is explored, rolled around in and then fixed? I want to see them suffer in their heart wrenching angsty teenage lives but only if it means it gets them to a happier place in the end T^T ugh babies... tvn needs to not. They're killing me with excellent drama characters. Why can people write fic about drama characters WHY ISN'T THIS A THING????? Emily you are the loveliest of souls because you've now written TWO fucking perfect SUFBB fics I've asked you for and I fucking love you for it ㅠㅠㅠㅠ 너한테 케이크 만들고 싶다. 케이크의 섹시한 꽃미남밴드 멤버들을 나는 만들겠다 ㅠㅠ 베미리 많이 사랑한다 ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ 나무 사랑하니까 한국어 말해야 한다ㅏㅏㅏㅏ ㅠㅠㅠ
Ok I will try not to trip because I am in dress and supposed to be graceful or something
#1 kyuhyun's hands/fingers - pornpromt \o/// because the old married couple is not too old to have sex too and kyuhands are frustrating
#2 LMFAO as much as you prefer covers of Adele's songs I can't find one rn and as rarely as I hear her songs I managed to hear one that made me think of kyumin (cries ok a lot of things make me think of kyumin but). Anyway the song is 'lovesong' (yes the one with ridiculous amount of Iloveyous in it lol), I thought of maybe (well not disbandment i am not sure it will happen already) but after sj not promoting properly all together for some time times. A but depressing growing old thing :< but heeeey together (on the afterthought: it can be porn too Ahahaha)
#3 long promt: au (well I love aus :<) where kyuhyun is a progamer and Sungmin has some really grounded job (idk doctor or lawer) and they perceive their relationships differently: Sungmin is thinking of it as some sort of convenient arrangement and kyuhyun thanks they are actually all normal. And Sungmin if not thinks kyuhyun is childish then since sungmin can't treat his job like a normal job (even though it pays ok and everything he just can't see something fun as job) doesn't think this can go anywhere and doesn't even think of it (even though he likes kyuhyun much more without knowing it OF COURSE BECAUSE SAPPY SHIP). Idk probably this came from how sometimes people don't see how actually responsible and reliable he is. Also that interesting jobs can be real jobs)
sesoo. sehun getting a boner from harrypotter do sitting on his lap. something about one of chanyeol's cake in all of this. http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_me3pwpSKPX1qhmxnlo1_500.jpg
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no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:46 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Still, it only takes Jongin an hour and a half to start trying to play footsie with Kyungsoo under the table.
The first time Jongin slides his toes up the inside of Kyungsoo's calf, Kyungsoo chokes on his tea, and Junmyeon has to pound his back for a moment, watching Kyungsoo with a concerned face. After that Kyungsoo is careful not to look at Jongin, at least until he's positive that he can look that way without blushing.
"Are you okay, Kyungsoo hyung?" Jongin asks, his expression straightfaced but his eyes sparkling with poorly-suppressed amusement.
Kyungsoo furrows his brow in his best go away I hate you expression. "I'm fine," he says, trying to inject as much warning as he can into his voice without it being noticeable to those around them. The last thing he needs is Chanyeol asking, loudly, why he's giving Jongin a death glare over their samgyupsal.
A few moments later, Jongin's foot slides up Kyungsoo's leg again, only this time it's his upper thigh, and Kyungsoo jumps so high he bangs his elbow on the table and rattles the dishes at their end. Junmyeon looks back over at him, astounded, and Kyungsoo turns the fiercest shade of red he thinks it's possible to turn. "Sorry," he mumbles, scooting back and standing up, brushing invisible dirt off his backside. "I have to—go to the bathroom."
When Jongin comes in, a minute later, Kyungsoo is staring at his own still-pink face in the mirror. When the door is closed Kyungsoo whirls around and fixes Jongin with the closest thing to a glare Kyungsoo can manage when it's Jongin on the receiving end. "You're insufferable!" he exclaims, poking Jongin in the chest. "Are you trying to get us in trouble?"
But Jongin just laughs and pulls Kyungsoo in by his tie, leans down and closes his mouth with a soft, warm kiss, and Kyungsoo shuts up. He wraps his arms up around Jongin's neck and melts into it, and when Jongin pulls away Kyungsoo can't even remember why he was mad to begin with.
"Happy debut anniversary," Jongin says, nuzzling just below Kyungsoo's ear.
wow this fucker cut off the good part
There's nothing graceful about the way Jongin shoves Kyungsoo back into the bathroom stall, or about they way they kiss, all slick tongues and lips as their hands work into each others' pants. But Kyungsoo has never really needed elegance as long as he has Jongin, so he's content to be jerked off rough and brutal, muffling gasps and sighs into Jongin's mouth as he tries his best to return the favor.
"Holy shit," Jongin murmurs, then sucks on Kyungsoo's lower lip, teeth dragging against it. "You make me so easy—"
And it's true, Jongin is easy for Kyungsoo. Or maybe it's just that they've been doing this for so long that Kyungsoo knows exactly how to twist his wrist, how to flick his fingers to have Jongin trembling against him, knees shaking as he spills into Kyungso's cupped hand.
Jongin falls still after that, and Kyungsoo whines impatiently, jerking his hips up into Jongin's loose fist. It takes a second for the message to get through, but it does, and Jongin laughs and fists Kyungsoo and strokes, once, twice, three times before Kyungsoo bites down on his own tongue and comes so hard he sees stars.
They clean each other up with toilet paper, Jongin giggling a little immaturely as they flush it down the pipes. It's not like it's the first time, but Kyungsoo doesn't say anything, because he's happy and sated and content with his life. "Does this mean you're going to stop trying to fondle me while I eat?" he asks as they wash their hands, shooting a sidelong glance over at Jongin at the next sink.
Jongin smiles, all teeth and innocence that Kyungsoo doesn't believe for a second. "No promises."
no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:47 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Fast forward.
Zitao presses up against Jongin's back, mouths a hot kiss against the nape of his neck. "Wider," he says, and for a second Jongin's not sure what he means, but then Zitao nudges one of Jongin's feet with his foot and he gets it. Legs wider. Sometimes sex with Zitao is an adventure, because they don't teach you how to say I'm going to fuck you until you beg in any Introductory Korean course. Jongin still hasn't worked out which it is of the many things Zitao says to him during sex, but he's sure he'll get it one day.
Cool air on his ass jerks Jongin back to the present as Zitao tugs his workout pants down, his briefs too, down to his thighs. Jongin, braced against the mirror, cranes his neck back to look at Zitao, but he can't get a glimpse of much more than just Zitao's shoulder and upper arm. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Your..." It seems like Zitao doesn't know the word for ass in Korean, so he just gestures in its general vicinity. "It's nice."
Jongin flushes over the bridge of his nose and turns his face back toward the mirror. "Thanks," he says, watching their reflections as Zitao moves behind him. Zitao's fingers are warm as he traces the dimples at the base of Jongin's spine, then lower, his palm spreading out and fingers curving over the swell of his ass. Zitao has big hands.
He sees the slap coming a split second before it lands, but that doesn't make Jongin ready. His whole body jerks, and he bites down on his lip so hard he almost breaks skin. "What the fuck," Jongin demands, his skin tingling where Zitao's hand made contact—blood rushing to the abused skin, warming it.
"Mm?" Zitao says, his fingers caressing Jongin's ass again. He slaps it again, the other cheek, this time, and Jongin swears, his breath catching in his throat. "Should I stop?"
After a moment of war with himself, Jongin mutters, "No."
As long as Jongin doesn't think too hard about it—about the fact that he's letting Zitao spank him in the open air of their dance practice studio, pants around his thighs like he's easy—it's kind of hot. Zitao's hands are large and the sounds they make against Jongin's skin are obscene, echoing in the studio, as do the whimpers Jongin can't help but release every time Zitao's palm makes contact with the abused flesh of his ass. It hurts, a lot, it stings, but Jongin likes it, likes the tingling and the warmth and the anticipation just before Zitao slaps him again.
After a while—could be an hour, could be ten minutes, Jongin's not really sure—Zitao reaches around and wraps his hand around Jongin's cock, and it takes literally two strokes for Jongin to come in a shuddering mess over Zitao's fingers. He hadn't noticed how hard he was—had been too focused on the pain in his ass, but the orgasm totally sates him, strings Jongin right out until he's slumping against the mirror and trying to catch his breath.
Zitao laughs, maybe at how easy Jongin is for him, and presses Jongin's chest against the mirror with one strong hand against Jongin's back. He holds Jongin there for a minute, and Jongin is about to push away and ask Zitao what the fuck he's doing when he feels Zitao come on him, on his ass, over the skin that Zitao had just spent so long abusing. Zitao's come is hot on Jongin's sensitive flesh, and Jongin moans, before the rational part of his brain catches up. "My underwear are going to be ruined," he points out, looking back over his shoulder and giving Zitao a poisonous look. "Are you going to take responsibility?"
All he gets in return is a peace sign and something in Mandarin that Jongin doesn't understand, but somehow he knows that's the best that Zitao is going to do.
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 07:37 am (UTC)(link)no subject
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 08:23 am (UTC)(link)-Olga (IKKNOWHOWYOSIGNTHINGSOK)
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 08:30 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 03:22 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-24 03:58 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-24 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)~kat
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LMFAO IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT ♥
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-28 08:14 am (UTC)(link)here are perfect taokai gifs for perfect taokai fic/writer
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5o88zCNDh1qfhv0yo1_250.gif
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5o88zCNDh1qfhv0yo2_250.gif
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:49 am (UTC)(link)1/2 bc i'm feeling like i'm gonna run out of space
--
The trouble is that Mingi has this little smile—the littlest smile, more like a quirk at the corners of his lips—and a way of looking up through his eyelashes that makes Himchan pretty much want to do whatever Mingi wants, whenever he wants it. He's wondered a few times how healthy that is, but Mingi never uses it to get anything that Himchan isn't willing to give, and besides, Himchan's not even totally sure Mingi knows he's doing it—it seems like one of those things that just comes naturally to Mingi, like the way he flicks his fingers to get things off of them or the way he laughs when he thinks nobody's looking.
Right now, though, Himchan is pretty sure that Mingi knows exactly what he's doing. There's not a lot of room for interpretation when they're partially naked and tangled up on Himchan's bed, when Mingi's fingertips are tracing maddening circles just above the button of Himchan's jeans and he's sucking on his lower lip as he waits for Himchan to answer.
"But, I," Himchan says, "you," and then Mingi's fingers hook into the front of his jeans and his brain short-circuits a little.
The other trouble is that Mingi is small and delicate-looking, despite the heavy Busan drawl that he speaks when he's tired or just distracted, and he has pretty hands and a soft, curvy mouth and big eyes and Himchan is so, so unsure about whether it's, like, ethically wrong for him to want to have sex with Mingi. It's not a question of age of consent—Mingi's old enough, certainly—but there's something about him that Himchan just wants to protect and shield and take care of, and that's a little hard to do when you're busy spreading someone out on the bed.
Right.
The trouble is, Himchan's not totally sure what to say when Mingi does things like press his lips against the space just below Himchan's jaw and whisper, satoori and all, "Hyung, I want you to fuck me." Hence the circuitry trouble in Himchan's brain right now.
"Are you sure?" he finally manages, even though it's hard for Himchan to deny that he's getting harder by the second, cock twitching at the very idea of Mingi moaning his name. "I mean, that's a big thing, like, you really have to be sure about that—"
"Trust me," Mingi says, popping the button of Himchan's jeans. "I'm sure."
From there, it's startlingly easy. Scary, almost, how easy it is for Himchan to get Mingi out of his skinny jeans, and then out of his underwear, how easy it is to lose himself in drinking in the long, slender lines of Mingi's body. Mingi moves like he knows exactly what every part of his body is doing at all times, like he's not just on the other side of a growth spurt, like Mingi never went through the awkward phase of puberty where you're never quite sure what your body is doing (or maybe that was just Himchan). He's gorgeous, and when he's naked Mingi's mouth looks less childish than it does sultry, his eyes less innocent than they are wanting. Himchan is probably going to hell, but oh, god, it's going to be such a sweet trip.
Mingi is unfairly responsive, all soft sighs and whimpers as Himchan slides a lube-slick finger into Mingi's body. "Are you still sure?" Himchan asks, his palm pressed soothingly against Mingi's hipbone. "I mean, this is the weird part—"
"Hyung," Mingi says, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at Himchan. "Just shut up, okay? I'm sure. I've been sure."
It's a suckerpunch to the libido in the best way, and Himchan shivers, biting his lip against an undoubtedly dorky grin as he ducks his head down a little and presses his finger upward. Mingi's body is pliant and unresisting, and it's not long before Himchan is adding a second finger, and then a third, pressing upward until he finds Mingi's prostate and sends his back off the bed in a delicious arch. "It's pretty good, right?" Himchan asks, perhaps redundantly, massaging the pads of his fingers against that place over and over again.
Mingi gasps something so filthy it shocks even Himchan, and then adds, "If you stop I swear to god I'm going to claw your face off, oh, fuck, hyung."
"Well, then," Himchan says, and doesn't stop.
At least, he doesn't stop until Mingi tells him to, and by then Himchan is so hard that he feels like his entire being is concentrated in that throbbing ache between his legs. Mingi gasps "Wait," and reaches down to take hold of Himchan's wrist and pull his fingers out, offering a lazy smile as compensation. "You'll make me come," he explains, and Himchan shakes his head, not out of denial but because he's not sure he's ever going to get used to hearing words like fuck and come and cock coming out of Choi Mingi's mouth.
"Then what?" Himchan asks, a moment before Mingi shoves him down on the bed and straddles Himchan's hips in one smooth, easy motion. "—Oh."
"Yeah," Mingi says, "oh."
He reaches back with a hand slicked in lube—when did he even pick that up? Himchan didn't even notice—to smooth it over Himchan's cock, then hold it at the base, settling back onto it in slow increments. It's impossibly tight and hot and fantastic and honestly, Himchan's not sure what forces of god or devil made him say no to this for this long, when it feels like he fits into Mingi's body like he was meant to be there. Mingi is panting nonsense, lips parted and head tilted back, and he looks like the very picture of sin but yeah, Himchan's pretty far gone already, may as well go big or go home.
Settling his hands at Mingi's waist, Himchan swallows hard and says, "Tell me when you're ready."
After a moment of just breathing, Mingi looks down at him, that same half-smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Hyung, when I'm ready, you'll know," he says, and Himchan doesn't even have time to wonder what that means before Mingi starts to move.
2/2 aww ye
Mingi gives him absolutely no quarter, and it doesn't take all that long before Himchan—embarrassingly—palms at the rise of Mingi's hipbones and gasps something incoherent before coming. Mingi laughs, but it's desperate and breathless, and when Himchan gets too sensitive to keep thrusting into him, he pulls out and all but throws Mingi back down onto the bed.
"Tell me what you want," he gasps, and Mingi smirks, stretches out and spreads his legs like he wants Himchan between them. (He probably does.)
"Your fingers," Mingi says, his own fingertips tripping along his ribs and stomach. "Please, hyung, I need—"
This time it's Himchan's turn to cut Mingi off, although he does it with a lot less finesse and grace than Mingi had done to him, sliding three fingers into Mingi (he doesn't even need lube, Mingi is sloppy from Himchan's orgasm anyway) and pressing up, relentless, until Mingi has to bite down on the outside of his wrist to keep himself from moaning too loudly (Himchan does have neighbors, after all). It's sort of gorgeous to watch Mingi fall apart, his skin shining sweat-slick and his eyes fluttering closed, stomach and thigh muscles tensing as he rocks back into Himchan's fingers with a kind of singleminded intensity that makes Himchan dizzy.
When Mingi comes it's with a gasp, followed by a low moan of Himchan's name stifled against the skin of his forearm, and then Mingi spills all over his own stomach, with no help from Himchan whatsoever. Himchan works him through it, keeps his fingers up against Mingi's prostate until Mingi squirms away, exhausted and oversensitive.
"Mmmgnh," is the sound Mingi makes when Himchan withdraws his fingers, wiping them carelessly on the bed and then sprawling out next to Mingi. Even like this, messy and spent, with Himchan's come between his legs and his own smeared on his lower stomach, Mingi is gorgeous, and the look in his eyes when he finally opens them to glance up at Himchan is enough to stop Himchan in his tracks.
"So," Himchan says, at a loss for words.
"So," Mingi says, reaching out to wrap his fingers around Himchan's wrist, "stop staring like a creep and cuddle me. I can feel your come, that's gross, next time you're using a condom."
"Yes, sir," Himchan says with a laugh (to hide his blush), and he wraps his arms around Mingi, lets Mingi fold himself into Himchan's chest and relax there. This, at least, is familiar, even if nothing else about this evening has been.
"Let's do that again sometime," Mingi suggests into the hollow of Himchan's collarbone, and Himchan wonders when (if ever) he's going to learn to resist.
Re: 2/2 aww ye
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)I WORKED EVEN BETTER THAN I IMAGINED??? I DON'T KNOW IF IT'S JUST A GOOD PAIRING OR YOU'RE JUST A MAGICAL WHEN IT COMES TO FILTHY SMUT BUT I NO CURRRRR BECAUSE MINGI HOLY FUCK AND HIMCHAN DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH HE'S FUCKED WITH THIS KID AND A++++
/ROLLS AROUND ON THE FLOOR
i read this first thing in the morning. this is what I woke up to okay. AND I'M SO OKAY WITH MY CHOICES OMFG.
/Mingi gasps something so filthy it shocks even Himchan, and then adds, "If you stop I swear to god I'm going to claw your face off, oh, fuck, hyung."/
AKDFJASLFJL;AFJ; MINGI JUST. THIS LINE T____T IT'S LIKE. ENCAPSULATION OF ENTIRE SITUATION AND SO GOOD.
DEING DEAD DEADER ALL THE PRONZ AWARDZZZZ
and now you all know what an excellent pairing this is. and that Emily is the conquerer of teh smut
~Kat
Re: 2/2 aww ye
Re: 2/2 aww ye
(Anonymous) 2012-11-24 04:42 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:51 am (UTC)(link)no subject
--
Jongin wakes Kyungsoo up, five minutes before his alarm goes off, by flopping on top of him and pressing his face into the curve of Kyungsoo's shoulder. His breath is warm against Kyungsoo's skin, and Kyungsoo blinks sleep out of his eyes, his hands already coming up to wrap around Jongin's middle and press gently to his lower back. Jongin's skin is warm, and Kyungsoo has ceased being surprised that Jongin sleeps without a shirt even in other countries.
Jongin whuffles something into Kyungsoo's neck, and Kyungsoo squirms a little, laughing. "I didn't catch that," he says, digging his fingertips ever-so-gently into Jongin's ribs. "Repeat~?"
"I said, I'm feeling spontaneous," Jongin repeats, pulling his face a little bit away so his words don't come out muffled. "Let's go on a Disneyland date." He laughs, a little shy, and flops over onto his side to curl up with his cheek against Kyungsoo's shoulder. "A secret Disneyland date. Okay?"
Kyungsoo blinks again, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and then smiles, because how is he supposed to say anything other than yes when Jongin is looking at him with those big stupid sleepy puppy eyes that he knows Kyungsoo can't resist? "Okay," he agrees, rolling onto his side as well and curling into Jongin. "But first let's sleep for two more minutes until my alarm goes off."
As far as dates go, it's pretty uneventful. They don't hold hands, at least not much, and Jongin insists on buying all of Kyungsoo's snacks, because, he says, "I asked you out so I should foot the bill!" They do, however, ride a lot of rides together, and even with the near constant presence of fans at the periphery of Kyungsoo's vision, he keeps catching Jongin looking at him, wearing the small, quiet kind of smile that Kyungsoo likes to think is reserved for him and him alone.
Afterward, when they stop by their hotel rooms to drop off some things before going to dinner, Jongin wraps his arms around Kyungsoo from behind and kisses the back of his shoulder, then rests his chin on it, saying, "I think it was a pretty good date."
Kyungsoo leans back into the warmth of Jongin's body and smiles up at him. Even without the handholding, even without the ability to touch each other and act like it means something—all Kyungsoo needs, after all, is this. "I think so, too," he agrees, and leans up for a kiss.
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-28 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)This was cute and everything but I would reallllly love it if you write kris/d.o too. ;_____;
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OKAY THAT'S MY BAD ENTIRELY AND I WILL COME BACK TO IT I PROMISE!
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:53 am (UTC)(link)please and thank you
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 02:53 am (UTC)(link)no subject
--
Kyungjong knows when he first meets Hajin—introduced to him by Jihyuk, who knows him through Byunghee, or maybe it's the other way around—Kyungjong knows that he's not Hajin's type. Hajin is tall and gangly and handsome in a puppyish way, all long limbs and curly hair and the kind of easy, unassuming grin that girls fall for hard and fast. And, most importantly, Hajin likes girls.
Hajin likes girls a lot, actually. Kyungjong learns that quickly. Hajin likes tiny girls with delicate hands and long hair, pouty lips and dark eyelashes and legs that look longer than they are. He likes the curves of girls' waists and the shadows of their cleavage, when their shirts slip down and they don't notice. Hajin is a connoisseur of girls, an appreciator of the female form, and Kyungjong knows he will never be Hajin's type.
"Want to know something?" Hajin asks one night, when he's drunk and covered in lipstick marks, sitting in the bathroom while Kyungjong wets a cloth to put on Hajin's forehead.
"What?"
"If you were a girl," Hajin begins, and Kyungjong knows, with a sick sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, exactly where this is going, "I would totally date you. You'd be my ideal type!"
"The hell are you talking about, man?" Kyungjong demands, his voice too loud to cover up the sudden thickness in the back of his throat. Hajin is too drunk to notice, anyway. Not that he needs alcohol to be oblivious—he's pretty good at that on his own. "Put this on your face."
Kyungjong is tiny, sure and he has delicate hands, and sometimes he pouts more than he means to. But he's a boy, definitely. Delicate hands attached to strong wrists and forearms and biceps, and his waist will never curve like a girl's does, and Kyungjong will never catch Hajin's attention in a cloud of perfume and sultry murmurs and long hair.
He doesn't want to be all that, honestly. Kyungjong just wishes that who he is could be enough.
From the moment that they meet, Kyungjong knows that he'll never be Hajin's type, but he doesn't really know it until the birthday that Hajin forgets. Forgets because of a girl, honestly, like there wasn't enough salt that Hajin pours in the wound on a normal day—and Kyungjong wants it to be okay. He really wishes he could be okay with it, just laugh because Hajin is so predictable and move on. But he can't, and it's not okay, because even if Kyungjong knows he will never be Hajin's type, he at least thought (hoped) that he would be more important than the nameless, faceless girls that Hajin runs through ten a week.
But even in that, it seems like Kyungjong was wrong.
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-28 04:21 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 03:32 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 06:24 am (UTC)(link)But I have promts ok!
I'll be back like the terminator with them for you to choose from
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 08:54 am (UTC)(link)#1 kyuhyun's hands/fingers - pornpromt \o/// because the old married couple is not too old to have sex too and kyuhands are frustrating
#2 LMFAO as much as you prefer covers of Adele's songs I can't find one rn and as rarely as I hear her songs I managed to hear one that made me think of kyumin (cries ok a lot of things make me think of kyumin but). Anyway the song is 'lovesong' (yes the one with ridiculous amount of Iloveyous in it lol), I thought of maybe (well not disbandment i am not sure it will happen already) but after sj not promoting properly all together for some time times. A but depressing growing old thing :< but heeeey together (on the afterthought: it can be porn too Ahahaha)
#3 long promt: au (well I love aus :<) where kyuhyun is a progamer and Sungmin has some really grounded job (idk doctor or lawer) and they perceive their relationships differently: Sungmin is thinking of it as some sort of convenient arrangement and kyuhyun thanks they are actually all normal. And Sungmin if not thinks kyuhyun is childish then since sungmin can't treat his job like a normal job (even though it pays ok and everything he just can't see something fun as job) doesn't think this can go anywhere and doesn't even think of it (even though he likes kyuhyun much more without knowing it OF COURSE BECAUSE SAPPY SHIP). Idk probably this came from how sometimes people don't see how actually responsible and reliable he is. Also that interesting jobs can be real jobs)
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-23 07:45 am (UTC)(link)no subject
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-27 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
u r fabulous
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(Anonymous) 2012-11-28 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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