He's Good (One-shot)
The music’s playing.
People are yelling. Calling out his name.
He steps onto the stage, skin tingling under the heavy weight of a hundred pairs of eyes.
One step forward, body unfurling smoothly.
The crowd goes wild. Calling for more.
He smirks slightly, lifts his hand and lets it run the course of his thigh, pulling over his abdomen to expose a tease of creamy skin.
He can see them watching, eyes large and completely held underneath his spell. It takes but a moment to have them wrapped around his fingers.
Two more steps forward, hips gyrating to the sultry tempo of the music. He’s at the center of the stage, one delicate hand reaching out to grasp his dance partner. The metal is cool beneath his heated skin; he moves closer.
He presses against the metal pole, hips swaying from left to right in an unfurling of his passion.
He feels a hand snatch at his ass, not startling him after the years he’s been doing this. He simply gives a graceful turn, pressing his back against the pole as he slides downwards, hips pushing into the air as he lifts his chin in an expression of pure ecstasy. He wants them to envy that pole with their entire soul. He wants their minds blown by the picture of his beauty and grace.
It works. The crowd howls their appreciation as he slides like silk down the pole.
He lifts himself gracefully and turns, holding the metal with both hands as he tilts his head backwards and displays the sharp edge of his jaw and smooth run of his neck. The move earns him cries for more, the crowd practically drooling from the tantalizing peek of smooth skin pulled taut against the graceful lines of his body.
He grips the pole lightly as he begins to unbutton his shirt, the roar of the crowd seeming to triple at the impending display of his majesty.
He waves his body forward, hand never pausing as it reaches the last few buttons on his black shirt.
As soon as he’s done, he lets the fabric slid easily from his body, enjoying the sensation of expensive cloth petting his skin.
This is the moment the crowd as waited for. Their eyes are large with desire as they scream their approval of his graceful body.
How could they not love him? Sleek muscles define themselves along the smooth stretch of his abdomen, heated skin glowing from the red and white lights suspended above the stage. He’s perfection and he knows it.
He moves back to the pole, only placing a single hand on it as he moves his shoulders to the smooth pull of the music. Left to right. Front to back. No matter the move, the crowd still screams.
He sinks to his knees and crawls across the floor with cat-like grace. He’s like tiger stalking its prey.
As he nears the edge of the stage, he feels multiply pairs of hands ghosting over his body, unashamed to touch what is not theirs.
He tilts his head slightly and makes eye contact with a beautiful male standing near the stage.
He leans out, gaze pinning the lithe male as he comes within inches of that startled face. He can feel the heat radiating off the other’s body, can see the blossom of desire in the other male’s dark eyes.
Just as their lips are about to touch, he pulls back gracefully, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips as he watches the other male sit in stunned silence.
This is why he does it. The power of seduction is amazing, and he knows how to control it. His body is a sacred ground that only few have ever experienced. He is the master of music and the sultry deity of desire. He is lustful perfection incarnate.
He’s good and he knows it.
“Yunho, wake-up!”
He jerks awake with a sudden gasp, flinching slightly from the hand that is resting on his shoulder.
“We’re gonna be late if you don’t get out of bed. Now.” Jaejoong snaps at him before giving him a final shake and striding from the room, muttering something about slackers.
Yunho lets out a slow breath, pushing a hand over his sweat-covered skin. Well that was the last time he ever ate ice-cream before going to bed.
People are yelling. Calling out his name.
He steps onto the stage, skin tingling under the heavy weight of a hundred pairs of eyes.
One step forward, body unfurling smoothly.
The crowd goes wild. Calling for more.
He smirks slightly, lifts his hand and lets it run the course of his thigh, pulling over his abdomen to expose a tease of creamy skin.
He can see them watching, eyes large and completely held underneath his spell. It takes but a moment to have them wrapped around his fingers.
Two more steps forward, hips gyrating to the sultry tempo of the music. He’s at the center of the stage, one delicate hand reaching out to grasp his dance partner. The metal is cool beneath his heated skin; he moves closer.
He presses against the metal pole, hips swaying from left to right in an unfurling of his passion.
He feels a hand snatch at his ass, not startling him after the years he’s been doing this. He simply gives a graceful turn, pressing his back against the pole as he slides downwards, hips pushing into the air as he lifts his chin in an expression of pure ecstasy. He wants them to envy that pole with their entire soul. He wants their minds blown by the picture of his beauty and grace.
It works. The crowd howls their appreciation as he slides like silk down the pole.
He lifts himself gracefully and turns, holding the metal with both hands as he tilts his head backwards and displays the sharp edge of his jaw and smooth run of his neck. The move earns him cries for more, the crowd practically drooling from the tantalizing peek of smooth skin pulled taut against the graceful lines of his body.
He grips the pole lightly as he begins to unbutton his shirt, the roar of the crowd seeming to triple at the impending display of his majesty.
He waves his body forward, hand never pausing as it reaches the last few buttons on his black shirt.
As soon as he’s done, he lets the fabric slid easily from his body, enjoying the sensation of expensive cloth petting his skin.
This is the moment the crowd as waited for. Their eyes are large with desire as they scream their approval of his graceful body.
How could they not love him? Sleek muscles define themselves along the smooth stretch of his abdomen, heated skin glowing from the red and white lights suspended above the stage. He’s perfection and he knows it.
He moves back to the pole, only placing a single hand on it as he moves his shoulders to the smooth pull of the music. Left to right. Front to back. No matter the move, the crowd still screams.
He sinks to his knees and crawls across the floor with cat-like grace. He’s like tiger stalking its prey.
As he nears the edge of the stage, he feels multiply pairs of hands ghosting over his body, unashamed to touch what is not theirs.
He tilts his head slightly and makes eye contact with a beautiful male standing near the stage.
He leans out, gaze pinning the lithe male as he comes within inches of that startled face. He can feel the heat radiating off the other’s body, can see the blossom of desire in the other male’s dark eyes.
Just as their lips are about to touch, he pulls back gracefully, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips as he watches the other male sit in stunned silence.
This is why he does it. The power of seduction is amazing, and he knows how to control it. His body is a sacred ground that only few have ever experienced. He is the master of music and the sultry deity of desire. He is lustful perfection incarnate.
He’s good and he knows it.
“Yunho, wake-up!”
He jerks awake with a sudden gasp, flinching slightly from the hand that is resting on his shoulder.
“We’re gonna be late if you don’t get out of bed. Now.” Jaejoong snaps at him before giving him a final shake and striding from the room, muttering something about slackers.
Yunho lets out a slow breath, pushing a hand over his sweat-covered skin. Well that was the last time he ever ate ice-cream before going to bed.