(no subject)
sense memory | nc-17 | ~500 | hyuk(, hyukvi?)
because i did my homework and paid attention to vixxtv today.
It's not like him to skulk around masturbating in public bathrooms but, hey, there it is. Han Sanghyuk, 21 years old, jerking off while thinking about the way his groupmate and friend Wonshik had tugged on his collar earlier that day during their photoshoot for the album jacket.
God, just the vague sense memory, remnants of the edges of his collar tightening around the back of his neck, the side of his throat, just below his Adam's apple is enough to make him hard. He doesn't know how he would have reacted had Wonshik gone just a half-step further, wrapping his fingers around the necklace and pulling that little bit tighter; it was hard enough to look away in the first place, to pretend it wasn't happening.
Now he's holed up in the studio bathroom between rounds of dance practice -- gotta get that choreo down; they go live only a little while from now -- with his hand on his cock just reliving that memory over and over again. He hasn't been at it very long but the idea of getting choked is killing him, but, y'know, in the fun way.
He drags his tongue over his lips, wetting them, staring up at the ceiling and half-praying for all these sinful thoughts to go away. They don't, of course, and he keeps on jerking himself for all he's worth.
The sweat pools in his collarbones and he's bowed in on himself, fingers wrapped taut around the base of his dick, and all he can think about is the fingers slipping under the line of that choker he'd been wearing earlier. If only he'd managed to catch a glimpse of Wonshik's face -- ah, but that'd be acknowledging it, wouldn't it? He could feel the older's eyes burning into the side of his face and yet he wouldn't turn his head, refusing to look at the intensity in Wonshik's face.
And here he is now, jerking off to the thought of those strong hands wrapping around his throat. How sad life has become for him.
He knows Wonshik's just a couple rooms away, in his studio, probably doing something cute and clueless like he always is. And it arouses Sanghyuk even further to think that he could stuff his cock back into his pants, make his shameful way between the few rooms and climb into Wonshik's lap, ask him to choke Sanghyuk for real this time, palms rough against his throat --
Shit. He orgasms quicker than he meant to, spilling all over his hand, and he swears under his breath as he gazes down at his cock growing limp between his fingers, which are stained with sticky trails of come.
He cleans himself up quickly, unceremoniously, pulls his sweats back up over his thighs, his mind occupied with thoughts of unnamed hands at his windpipe. God help him if he gets hard again -- he'll never hear the end of it.
because i did my homework and paid attention to vixxtv today.
It's not like him to skulk around masturbating in public bathrooms but, hey, there it is. Han Sanghyuk, 21 years old, jerking off while thinking about the way his groupmate and friend Wonshik had tugged on his collar earlier that day during their photoshoot for the album jacket.
God, just the vague sense memory, remnants of the edges of his collar tightening around the back of his neck, the side of his throat, just below his Adam's apple is enough to make him hard. He doesn't know how he would have reacted had Wonshik gone just a half-step further, wrapping his fingers around the necklace and pulling that little bit tighter; it was hard enough to look away in the first place, to pretend it wasn't happening.
Now he's holed up in the studio bathroom between rounds of dance practice -- gotta get that choreo down; they go live only a little while from now -- with his hand on his cock just reliving that memory over and over again. He hasn't been at it very long but the idea of getting choked is killing him, but, y'know, in the fun way.
He drags his tongue over his lips, wetting them, staring up at the ceiling and half-praying for all these sinful thoughts to go away. They don't, of course, and he keeps on jerking himself for all he's worth.
The sweat pools in his collarbones and he's bowed in on himself, fingers wrapped taut around the base of his dick, and all he can think about is the fingers slipping under the line of that choker he'd been wearing earlier. If only he'd managed to catch a glimpse of Wonshik's face -- ah, but that'd be acknowledging it, wouldn't it? He could feel the older's eyes burning into the side of his face and yet he wouldn't turn his head, refusing to look at the intensity in Wonshik's face.
And here he is now, jerking off to the thought of those strong hands wrapping around his throat. How sad life has become for him.
He knows Wonshik's just a couple rooms away, in his studio, probably doing something cute and clueless like he always is. And it arouses Sanghyuk even further to think that he could stuff his cock back into his pants, make his shameful way between the few rooms and climb into Wonshik's lap, ask him to choke Sanghyuk for real this time, palms rough against his throat --
Shit. He orgasms quicker than he meant to, spilling all over his hand, and he swears under his breath as he gazes down at his cock growing limp between his fingers, which are stained with sticky trails of come.
He cleans himself up quickly, unceremoniously, pulls his sweats back up over his thighs, his mind occupied with thoughts of unnamed hands at his windpipe. God help him if he gets hard again -- he'll never hear the end of it.