Comfortability
Title: Comfortability
Author: 3star4life
Pairing: DooWoon
Rating: R
Summary: Doojoon finds his comfort.
He's addictive. His laugh, his smile, his eyes, his giggles, his hair, his body, his breath, his touch, him. Doojoon sat across the room and pondered at that thought, staring intently at Dongwoon. Dressed in nothing but Doojoon's thin, white wrinkled shirt and white tube socks, Dongwoon sat on the edge of the bed, one knee pulled up close to his chest while the other dangled to the floor. His eyes were glued to some classic French black and white film. Doojoon's eyes were on him. The bed wasn't made and clothes were scattered throughout the floor. The room wasn't very large, but it was comfy. There was one window in the room and Dongwoon loved to look at the city through it, but Doojoon preferred to not, so the curtains would usually be down. There was one queen bed, a small brownish, golden couch, mahogany armoire and a small black tv in the corner of the room. Dongwoon sighed as the couple in the screen sang some romantic song to each other, even though the volume was barely up since one, Doojoon didn't like it very loud, and two, it was the highest the volume would go.
Doojoon would much rather have those brown orbs looking into his own, the warm body sitting on his lap and those soft, pink lips on his. He sat, cigarette in hand, hair messy, pants loose and shirt unbuttoned, as he took another puff and blew the smoke out. The atmosphere was awkwardly silent fixed with sexual tension, at least to Doojoon. He put out the flame on the ashtray next to him, before making his way to Dongwoon. The younger one didn't even notice until Doojoon stood in front of the television. Dongwoon looked up at the man with big eyes, not necessarily scared, but not knowing what the man was about to do. Doojoon isn't smiling, then again, he never smiles.
He grabbed Dongwoon's chin with his right hand, clearly flustering the other. Bending down till they're face to face, Doojoon looked into Dongwoon's eyes, the latter looked back, when he pulled Dongwoon closer, filling the gap between them with a hard kiss. Doojoon's left hand settled on Dongwoon's mane, pulling on it slightly before tilting his head. Then they parted, Doojoon's hand traveling down to Dongwoon's waist, pushed him more onto the bed. He then climbed on top of Dongwoon and went in for another rough kiss.
Dongwoon tried his hardest to keep up with Doojoon's vigor, but as usual, failed. Not because the younger wanted to dominate over Doojoon, but so that the kiss would be enjoyable for Doojoon and he wouldn't get bored. So Doojoon just wouldn't get tired of the mundane and the sex and the awkward silence and of Dongwoon. Upon realizing he wouldn't be doing anything to make this tango of tongues any different than the last, he sighed. They parted and panted. Doojoon's eyes hooded with lust and a hint of anger and jealousy. But Dongwoon doesn't notice that.
Doojoon on the other hand couldn't help but think back to earlier in the day. He remembered walking back to his classroom after grading the latest papers his class wrote on Ethan Frome when a peculiar scene stopped him. One of Dongwoon and a certain other fellow, Dongwoon's ex. Dongwoon smiled that smile ever so sweetly that only Doojoon's eyes were meant to see. Doojoon felt the blood rush to his face and wondered if the Ethan from the book felt the same way when he saw Mattie being courted by one Dennis Eady. He shook it off and kept walking to class, he didn't want his student's to skip his class thinking their professor's absent.
Those thoughts came back now as he looked at the boy laying under him, giving that sweet smile. Doojoon leaned in for another kiss, this time associating some biting and tugging with that peck, Dongwoon letting out small whimpers. Doojoon must be happy, but is he ever happy? Another bite took Doojoon's mind off of that; this time on the neck. Doojoon's hands were relentless as they went up, down, right, left feeling every bit of Dongwoon's body underneath the white shirt. But the shirt got in the way; so Doojoon got rid of it.
His teeth went straight for the caramel colored skin underneath him, nipping at the chest, another small whimper leaving Dongwoon's lips, small enough to go over Doojoon's ears, or perhaps his burning rage was blocking it. Doojoon's hands trailed down roughly to Dongwoon's hips before pressing them tightly. He opens his lidded eyes and looks into Dongwoon's ones, the latter in confusion, but amidst all confusion he let out a reassuring smile. Doojoon responded with a smirk before grabbing the limp organ that lies between Dongwoon's legs, the younger letting out a sigh. Doojoon looked down into Dongwoon's eyes and started to stroke the warm flesh, leading Dongwoon to elicit a soft moan.
Doojoon's teeth gritted together as he heard that moan; How many other times must have that bastard heard his moan? Once? Twice? Five times? Ten? Too many to fuckin' count. He tugged on the flesh, another small mewl coming out of Dongwoon, making Doojoon a bit more annoyed. Doojoon strokes a bit more aggressively, as Dongwoon started to fuss and whimper a bit.
The man didn't show a lot of emotions to anyone but Dongwoon and even then he rarely expressed how he was feeling. Unless of course something pissed him off, which Dongwoon could tell, something has.
Doojoon's hand picked up speed, the male underneath him starting to pant and whine. Hovering on top, his eyes remained glued to Dongwoon, his head moving from side to side as he tried to gain control of himself but he couldn't. It was cute, the frustration the boy underneath him expressed. And he couldn't fuckin' stand it. Doojoon knew the exact same part was played out in front of another man and it must have been just as cute; the dark brown orbs glossy with water and need, the soft, pink tulips quivering with pleasure as small moans and mewls blew out of them, the scrunching of that sharp nose noting how hard it is becoming to keep still, the sweaty strands of dirty-blond hair sticking to the forehead.
It sickened him, watching this scene play out and knowing that it's just an reenactment, that this show was not for only his viewing pleasure and his viewing pleasure only. But Doojoon could not stop. If anything he wants it to go on and go on more, longer, more intensely! He wants it because he's addicted to all those things; he's addicted to Dongwoon. He curses that other man because that jerk never had and never could have the appreciation Doojoon has for this beauty trembling underneath him. It boiled his blood to know that another man actually, watched this performance. The bastard probably regarded the scene as cheap and the boy as just another lay, but to Doojoon it was totally different.
Dongwoon's moans started to get louder, as Doojoon's stroking become faster.
Before Dongwoon came into his life, Doojoon just spent the days checking papers, watching old french films with low volumes, keeping the sunlight out. Life was adequate. He got his work done, watched his films, lectured about books he read too many times, kept his room how he wanted. The days were ordinary, the tasks a routine, the life empty.
When he noticed Dongwoon in his colleagues lecture, he thought it was just another kid. He was wrong when he sat in on one of the discussion courses for the class that Doojoon volunteered for. While the rest of the students sat there half-asleep, just waiting for that clock to his 9:00, Dongwoon's passion for literature could be seen with each example, phrase, word he uttered. It fascinated Doojoon. He fascinated Doojoon.
It was just some weekly visits to the discussions and listening in on the kids, but eventually it'd be only Dongwoon and Doojoon left in that room as the rest just stopped showing up.
The clocked ticked on, the atmosphere cold, awkward and quiet, too quiet. The room already seemed dark since it was in the basement, but given the muggy weather outside, the entire demeanor of the room was just depressing. Dongwoon patiently sat in his desk, a calm smile on his face. Doojoon watched the second hand of the clock make a full 360 before starting on another one, disappointed at the crowd, well there was no crowd, only Dongwoon. His focus was shifted when Dongwoon cleared his voice. "Um, Professor? I don't think anyone else is about to come." adding a reassuring smile, in case Doojoon took that in a rude way.
Doojoon sighed, "What are you doing here, kid?"
Dongwoon was confused. "Um, I'm here for the discussion..."
"But no one else is here; you don't have to be here either."
Dongwoon frowned. "Oh, I just thought, we would still..." he stopped and removed eye contact. Dongwoon looked at the notes he wrote down for 1984. He was so excited to mention the new discoveries he made of archetypes and other literary findings. Doojoon noted the crestfallen state of the younger man and sighed.
"Since you are here, though," Dongwoon looked up, "I guess we could make good use of the time." Dongwoon plastered on a smile that almost blinded Doojoon; it brightened up the entire room. Then Doojoon did something he hadn't done in a while; he smiled. That was what started it, the discussion of the fictitious world of Winston Smith in futuristic year of 1984. Then they continued on with some coffee and met up again the next day. Then again. Then again.
Doojoon started down at Dongwoon as he thought back to their first meeting. Not the literal first time they actually met, but rather that first day they met. Doojoon didn't know if that made sense, but he knew he fell for Dongwoon that day. He fell for him hard. Ribbons of white spluttered onto Doojoon's abs as Dongwoon shook violently, Doojoon stroking his member, helping him ride out his orgasm. He peered into the watery slits of the younger man trying to catch up to his breathing.
Doojoon tried wiped away some of the water near Dongwoon's eyes. Dongwoon looked up and took Doojoon's hand into his own and gave it a soft kiss. He looked back into Doojoon's eyes, which still looked a little stern, and gave Doojoon a smile. One like the one he had that day, the day Doojoon fell in love with him. He pulled Doojoon's neck down and connected their lips. There wasn't a tango of tongues, in fact, it was more like a waltz. Doojoon's hands found themselves on Dongwoon's hips instinctively, this time holding them with soft, caring hands.
Dongwoon started to pull away. He nuzzled his nose onto Doojoon's slowly, their lips still connected and giggled. Doojoon couldn't help but let out a rare chuckle followed by a heartfelt smile. "I love you." Dongwoon confessed before leaving a peck on Doojoon's lips, then his left cheek, wrapping his arms around Doojoon. "I love you Doojoon." he repeated.
The older man stopped grinning. How could I be angry at him? He snuggled his nose onto Dongwoon's neck, leading the latter to giggle. He traced his nose and lips from Dongwoon's neck to his jawline to his cheek before leaving a kiss there. Connecting there eyes and touching there noses once more, Doojoon planted his lips on Dongwoon's. "I love you more." he murmured. In return Dongwoon gave Doojoon one of his smiles; one of Doojoon's smile.
A simple smile it might have been, but to Doojoon it was so much more. It meant that no matter how many smiles and kisses and fucks the other man could have, did have, Dongwoon was his and only his. That smile meant that Doojoon's mundane, empty life was no longer empty. He had Dongwoon in it.
Dongwoon is addictive, but why wouldn't he be? He was Doojoon's world, he was Doojoon's happiness, he was Doojoon's comfort.
A/N Ahhhh it's been a while, well sorta. Finally got one of my prompts done. Not sure how this will do with others but I felt pretty good writing it...well when I was in a good mood. I'm annoyed it took me so long to complete this since I started this back in late- October, but the passion to write randomly attacks me! I guess I'll be going back to my World Civilization paper now. Hope you all like it!!
Author: 3star4life
Pairing: DooWoon
Rating: R
Summary: Doojoon finds his comfort.
He's addictive. His laugh, his smile, his eyes, his giggles, his hair, his body, his breath, his touch, him. Doojoon sat across the room and pondered at that thought, staring intently at Dongwoon. Dressed in nothing but Doojoon's thin, white wrinkled shirt and white tube socks, Dongwoon sat on the edge of the bed, one knee pulled up close to his chest while the other dangled to the floor. His eyes were glued to some classic French black and white film. Doojoon's eyes were on him. The bed wasn't made and clothes were scattered throughout the floor. The room wasn't very large, but it was comfy. There was one window in the room and Dongwoon loved to look at the city through it, but Doojoon preferred to not, so the curtains would usually be down. There was one queen bed, a small brownish, golden couch, mahogany armoire and a small black tv in the corner of the room. Dongwoon sighed as the couple in the screen sang some romantic song to each other, even though the volume was barely up since one, Doojoon didn't like it very loud, and two, it was the highest the volume would go.
Doojoon would much rather have those brown orbs looking into his own, the warm body sitting on his lap and those soft, pink lips on his. He sat, cigarette in hand, hair messy, pants loose and shirt unbuttoned, as he took another puff and blew the smoke out. The atmosphere was awkwardly silent fixed with sexual tension, at least to Doojoon. He put out the flame on the ashtray next to him, before making his way to Dongwoon. The younger one didn't even notice until Doojoon stood in front of the television. Dongwoon looked up at the man with big eyes, not necessarily scared, but not knowing what the man was about to do. Doojoon isn't smiling, then again, he never smiles.
He grabbed Dongwoon's chin with his right hand, clearly flustering the other. Bending down till they're face to face, Doojoon looked into Dongwoon's eyes, the latter looked back, when he pulled Dongwoon closer, filling the gap between them with a hard kiss. Doojoon's left hand settled on Dongwoon's mane, pulling on it slightly before tilting his head. Then they parted, Doojoon's hand traveling down to Dongwoon's waist, pushed him more onto the bed. He then climbed on top of Dongwoon and went in for another rough kiss.
Dongwoon tried his hardest to keep up with Doojoon's vigor, but as usual, failed. Not because the younger wanted to dominate over Doojoon, but so that the kiss would be enjoyable for Doojoon and he wouldn't get bored. So Doojoon just wouldn't get tired of the mundane and the sex and the awkward silence and of Dongwoon. Upon realizing he wouldn't be doing anything to make this tango of tongues any different than the last, he sighed. They parted and panted. Doojoon's eyes hooded with lust and a hint of anger and jealousy. But Dongwoon doesn't notice that.
Doojoon on the other hand couldn't help but think back to earlier in the day. He remembered walking back to his classroom after grading the latest papers his class wrote on Ethan Frome when a peculiar scene stopped him. One of Dongwoon and a certain other fellow, Dongwoon's ex. Dongwoon smiled that smile ever so sweetly that only Doojoon's eyes were meant to see. Doojoon felt the blood rush to his face and wondered if the Ethan from the book felt the same way when he saw Mattie being courted by one Dennis Eady. He shook it off and kept walking to class, he didn't want his student's to skip his class thinking their professor's absent.
Those thoughts came back now as he looked at the boy laying under him, giving that sweet smile. Doojoon leaned in for another kiss, this time associating some biting and tugging with that peck, Dongwoon letting out small whimpers. Doojoon must be happy, but is he ever happy? Another bite took Doojoon's mind off of that; this time on the neck. Doojoon's hands were relentless as they went up, down, right, left feeling every bit of Dongwoon's body underneath the white shirt. But the shirt got in the way; so Doojoon got rid of it.
His teeth went straight for the caramel colored skin underneath him, nipping at the chest, another small whimper leaving Dongwoon's lips, small enough to go over Doojoon's ears, or perhaps his burning rage was blocking it. Doojoon's hands trailed down roughly to Dongwoon's hips before pressing them tightly. He opens his lidded eyes and looks into Dongwoon's ones, the latter in confusion, but amidst all confusion he let out a reassuring smile. Doojoon responded with a smirk before grabbing the limp organ that lies between Dongwoon's legs, the younger letting out a sigh. Doojoon looked down into Dongwoon's eyes and started to stroke the warm flesh, leading Dongwoon to elicit a soft moan.
Doojoon's teeth gritted together as he heard that moan; How many other times must have that bastard heard his moan? Once? Twice? Five times? Ten? Too many to fuckin' count. He tugged on the flesh, another small mewl coming out of Dongwoon, making Doojoon a bit more annoyed. Doojoon strokes a bit more aggressively, as Dongwoon started to fuss and whimper a bit.
The man didn't show a lot of emotions to anyone but Dongwoon and even then he rarely expressed how he was feeling. Unless of course something pissed him off, which Dongwoon could tell, something has.
Doojoon's hand picked up speed, the male underneath him starting to pant and whine. Hovering on top, his eyes remained glued to Dongwoon, his head moving from side to side as he tried to gain control of himself but he couldn't. It was cute, the frustration the boy underneath him expressed. And he couldn't fuckin' stand it. Doojoon knew the exact same part was played out in front of another man and it must have been just as cute; the dark brown orbs glossy with water and need, the soft, pink tulips quivering with pleasure as small moans and mewls blew out of them, the scrunching of that sharp nose noting how hard it is becoming to keep still, the sweaty strands of dirty-blond hair sticking to the forehead.
It sickened him, watching this scene play out and knowing that it's just an reenactment, that this show was not for only his viewing pleasure and his viewing pleasure only. But Doojoon could not stop. If anything he wants it to go on and go on more, longer, more intensely! He wants it because he's addicted to all those things; he's addicted to Dongwoon. He curses that other man because that jerk never had and never could have the appreciation Doojoon has for this beauty trembling underneath him. It boiled his blood to know that another man actually, watched this performance. The bastard probably regarded the scene as cheap and the boy as just another lay, but to Doojoon it was totally different.
Dongwoon's moans started to get louder, as Doojoon's stroking become faster.
Before Dongwoon came into his life, Doojoon just spent the days checking papers, watching old french films with low volumes, keeping the sunlight out. Life was adequate. He got his work done, watched his films, lectured about books he read too many times, kept his room how he wanted. The days were ordinary, the tasks a routine, the life empty.
When he noticed Dongwoon in his colleagues lecture, he thought it was just another kid. He was wrong when he sat in on one of the discussion courses for the class that Doojoon volunteered for. While the rest of the students sat there half-asleep, just waiting for that clock to his 9:00, Dongwoon's passion for literature could be seen with each example, phrase, word he uttered. It fascinated Doojoon. He fascinated Doojoon.
It was just some weekly visits to the discussions and listening in on the kids, but eventually it'd be only Dongwoon and Doojoon left in that room as the rest just stopped showing up.
The clocked ticked on, the atmosphere cold, awkward and quiet, too quiet. The room already seemed dark since it was in the basement, but given the muggy weather outside, the entire demeanor of the room was just depressing. Dongwoon patiently sat in his desk, a calm smile on his face. Doojoon watched the second hand of the clock make a full 360 before starting on another one, disappointed at the crowd, well there was no crowd, only Dongwoon. His focus was shifted when Dongwoon cleared his voice. "Um, Professor? I don't think anyone else is about to come." adding a reassuring smile, in case Doojoon took that in a rude way.
Doojoon sighed, "What are you doing here, kid?"
Dongwoon was confused. "Um, I'm here for the discussion..."
"But no one else is here; you don't have to be here either."
Dongwoon frowned. "Oh, I just thought, we would still..." he stopped and removed eye contact. Dongwoon looked at the notes he wrote down for 1984. He was so excited to mention the new discoveries he made of archetypes and other literary findings. Doojoon noted the crestfallen state of the younger man and sighed.
"Since you are here, though," Dongwoon looked up, "I guess we could make good use of the time." Dongwoon plastered on a smile that almost blinded Doojoon; it brightened up the entire room. Then Doojoon did something he hadn't done in a while; he smiled. That was what started it, the discussion of the fictitious world of Winston Smith in futuristic year of 1984. Then they continued on with some coffee and met up again the next day. Then again. Then again.
Doojoon started down at Dongwoon as he thought back to their first meeting. Not the literal first time they actually met, but rather that first day they met. Doojoon didn't know if that made sense, but he knew he fell for Dongwoon that day. He fell for him hard. Ribbons of white spluttered onto Doojoon's abs as Dongwoon shook violently, Doojoon stroking his member, helping him ride out his orgasm. He peered into the watery slits of the younger man trying to catch up to his breathing.
Doojoon tried wiped away some of the water near Dongwoon's eyes. Dongwoon looked up and took Doojoon's hand into his own and gave it a soft kiss. He looked back into Doojoon's eyes, which still looked a little stern, and gave Doojoon a smile. One like the one he had that day, the day Doojoon fell in love with him. He pulled Doojoon's neck down and connected their lips. There wasn't a tango of tongues, in fact, it was more like a waltz. Doojoon's hands found themselves on Dongwoon's hips instinctively, this time holding them with soft, caring hands.
Dongwoon started to pull away. He nuzzled his nose onto Doojoon's slowly, their lips still connected and giggled. Doojoon couldn't help but let out a rare chuckle followed by a heartfelt smile. "I love you." Dongwoon confessed before leaving a peck on Doojoon's lips, then his left cheek, wrapping his arms around Doojoon. "I love you Doojoon." he repeated.
The older man stopped grinning. How could I be angry at him? He snuggled his nose onto Dongwoon's neck, leading the latter to giggle. He traced his nose and lips from Dongwoon's neck to his jawline to his cheek before leaving a kiss there. Connecting there eyes and touching there noses once more, Doojoon planted his lips on Dongwoon's. "I love you more." he murmured. In return Dongwoon gave Doojoon one of his smiles; one of Doojoon's smile.
A simple smile it might have been, but to Doojoon it was so much more. It meant that no matter how many smiles and kisses and fucks the other man could have, did have, Dongwoon was his and only his. That smile meant that Doojoon's mundane, empty life was no longer empty. He had Dongwoon in it.
Dongwoon is addictive, but why wouldn't he be? He was Doojoon's world, he was Doojoon's happiness, he was Doojoon's comfort.
A/N Ahhhh it's been a while, well sorta. Finally got one of my prompts done. Not sure how this will do with others but I felt pretty good writing it...well when I was in a good mood. I'm annoyed it took me so long to complete this since I started this back in late- October, but the passion to write randomly attacks me! I guess I'll be going back to my World Civilization paper now. Hope you all like it!!