[JaeHo] Dangerous Game
Title: Dangerous Game
Pairing(s): JaeHo
Length: One-shot
Word count: 2600~
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, AU, prison!fic
A/N: Loosely inspired by Mirotic, both the song itself and the PV :3 So yeah, this is yet another Mirotic smut (except I'm late, as usual xD). I'd like to point out that despite being a prison fic it doesn't contain themes such as rape and abuse. Just saying :)
Dedicated to akagasuki for being my personal Google ♥ and to trespass cause she wanted to read this and cause she made me the hottest icon ever *O*♥
omfg fucking fic it sucks so much and I hate it ;__; but I refuse to edit more, so there DX
Jaejoong’s cell is small and ugly, squalid in its dirty nakedness, plunged into an eternal half-light; there's a narrow window closed by heavy iron bars but sunlight never quite reaches the stained floor, and shadows lurk in the corners of bare walls.
Yunho lingers on the other side of the bars that mark the confines of Jaejoong’s freedom, lets his gaze rest on the man behind them and wonders why he’s standing here in the first place, instead of being on patrolling duty in his wing as he’s supposed to do.
Jaejoong is roped to the wall - for the third time that month, it has to be some sort of record, Yunho thinks wryly - head hung low and body slumping forward in a gesture of tired defeat; he looks like a tamed beast, but Yunho knows appearances are deceptive, especially with Jaejoong.
His fingers clench around a cold metal bar unconsciously while his other hand fingers the key hidden in his uniform’s pocket - the key to Jaejoong’s cell, a copy he owns without permission - and contrasting impulses battle inside him. He should walk away, but the need to walk inside is far stronger, and wins over. Again.
“Oh, it’s you again.” Jaejoong lifts his head at the sound of the lock clicking open and trains beautiful, insolent eyes on him. Stray locks of auburn hair fall messily on his face, a face that haunts Yunho’s dreams and nightmares alike.
Yunho’s steps falter, hesitate. It’s not because he knows Jaejoong is a criminal, a murderer, dangerous, maybe even insane, because in a weird, instinctive way he knows Jaejoong accepts him; but he has never approached Jaejoong when he’s like this, before, so powerless and vulnerable, and wonders what the inmate's reaction could be.
“Feeling kinky today, hm?” Jaejoong says mockingly, making a truly obscene thing with his tongue and laughing at Yunho's subsequent blush. A self-satisfied smirk plays at the corner of his lips, but contorts into a pained wince when he tries to make a come hither gesture at Yunho.
The guard eyes the ropes tying Jaejoong's wrists to the wall - barbaric and primitive, but they can’t afford anything more sophisticated and it’s not like anyone gives a fuck about the inmates’ well being anyway - and feels something like compassion and worry tug at stomach.
'How are you?' he wants to ask. “That’s what you get for trying to knife other inmates,” he says instead, with a small shrug.
“Oooh, playing the bad guard, now?” Jaejoong says, eyes sparkling with amusement; Yunho’s not really sure what’s so amusing about it, his only certainty is that Jaejoong is making fun of him, as he always does.
“And besides he deserved it, the asshole,” Jaejoong continues with nonchalance, “nobody calls me a fag and walks away in one piece.”
Yunho arches an eyebrow at Jaejoong’s statement, but thinks that the other inmates must really be a bunch of brainless idiots if they haven't learned not to mess with Jaejoong by now, pretty face or not.
“C'mon,” Jaejoong says impatiently, “I don't have all day, y'know?”
Yunho grins despite himself at the utter absurdity of his words.
“What, got better places to be?” He takes a couple of steps forward until the two of them are mere inches apart.
“I wish,” Jaejoong chuckles dryly, “but here's not bad either, since an interesting distraction just appeared.”
The inmate's laughter is low and throaty, a delicious sound that makes burning tendrils of desire coil inside Yunho's belly and spread south. Jaejoong slumps against the cell wall and looks up at him, eyes dark under lowered lashes, seductive and bewitching and impossible to resist.
Maybe I'm really under his spell, is Yunho's last thought before he leans in to kiss the side of Jaejoong's pale neck; the other man sighs and closes his eyes, tilting his head back to bare his throat to Yunho's kisses.
Yunho runs his lips across smooth skin, drops little bites up his neck, on his soft earlobe, along his jaw. He stops at the corner of his mouth, unsure of just how much he can claim, and Jaejoong opens his eyes just a little, gives him a lazy grin and turns his head just enough to meet Yunho's lips with his own.
The kiss is slow, at first, just a brush of lips against lips; Jaejoong is letting Yunho take control, for now, so he kisses the other man unhurriedly, tentatively, as if he were treading dangerous grounds that could give way under his feet without warning and swallow him whole. With Jaejoong it's been like this since the very first time, and Yunho learned the lesson at his own expenses; there's no telling how he’ll react next, and this frightens and arouses him at the same time.
He bites down on the plump softness of Jaejoong's bottom lip, sucks on it until he feels a small moan escape his mouth, and finally the other man’s lips part under his kisses; the tip of a wet, pink tongue presses against his own lips, demanding entrance, and he yields, allowing Jaejoong's tongue to invade him, letting him free to explore and to ravage, if he wants to.
Jaejoong's kisses are hard, forceful, aggressive, the exact opposite of Yunho's, and yet they complement each other in a odd way, building a rhythm that's uneven but strangely satisfying. Yunho's moan loses itself inside Jaejoong's mouth as they keep kissing, fast and messily, the mesh of tongues and lips as heady and intoxicating as Jaejoong's taste on his tongue.
When Yunho pulls back, breathless, he finds Jaejoong staring back at him, hunger and lust darkening his gaze, so beautiful and wild that Yunho's breath catches in his throat.
He takes another step forward until their bodies touch, and the contact sends shivers up his spine; they haven't even gotten out of their clothes yet, but every cell of his body seems to respond to Jaejoong's presence, all his senses heightened to an electrifying intensity.
Jaejoong's lips curl into a feline grin, and a wanton moan of pleasure escapes his lips when he presses back against Yunho as far as his restraints allow him.
“Get these clothes off me already, waiting puts me in a bad mood,” he purrs, craning his neck forward to lick a wet path up Yunho's throat that ends with a sharp nip on the underside of his jaw.
Yunho lets out a muffled cry, more out of surprise than pain, and thinks he likes this - it's a game, one that Jaejoong seems to know perfectly how to play, because he threads the fine line between danger and excitement in a way that makes Yunho want to follow him.
He pushes Jaejoong back against the wall roughly, smirking a little at the surprise that flashes through his dark irises.
“Not so fast,” he murmurs, sliding a finger down Jaejoong's clothed chest, “I don't take orders from you.”
“Son of a bitch,” Jaejoong growls, but Yunho sees his feral grin widen and his eyes light up with excitement.
“Shut up,” he replies, as smoothly as he can manage, and bites down on Jaejoong’s nipple through the light cotton of his tanktop, making the other man let out a surprised mewl. He plays with it until it's taut and erect under his mouth, until Jaejoong utters something that's half a curse and half a moan and shoves his chest into Yunho's face.
“My grandma would be faster,” Jaejoong comments off-handedly, but Yunho is pleased to hear the breathless lilt in his voice. He slips his hands under his shirt to touch warm skin, following the irregular ridge of a scar with the pads of his fingers before stopping to play with the metal bar piercing through his navel. He rolls it between two fingers and Jaejoong hisses, muttering profanities under his breath that morph into breathless moans when Yunho's hand slides up to palm a taut nipple.
Yunho pulls Jaejoong's shirt up as much as he can, until it bunches under the inmate's armpits to expose his chest and stomach, and even if it's not the first time he sees him he still has to stop and stare. Jaejoong's body is all sharp angles and hard planes, toned and athletic, his skin marred here and there by a lifetime of surviving in streets and prisons but still pale and beautiful and perfect in Yunho's eyes. There's nothing soft about him, nothing submissive nor pliant even when he's like this, tied up and apparently powerless in front of Yunho.
“Like what you see?” Jaejoong murmurs, looking at him with hooded eyes and licking his lips, and Yunho feels himself grow even harder inside his pants.
“Mmh” he groans an affirmative, buries his face in the middle of his chest to breathe in the faint yet already familiar scent of his skin. He trails wet kisses across hard muscles until his mouth finds Jaejoong's pierced nipple; there's a sharp intake of breath from Jaejoong when he tugs at the metal with his teeth, and the inmate’s arms strain against their constraints in the futile effort to break free from Yunho's maddening teasing. Well-built muscles ripple under the skin, and Yunho can’t resist the temptation to run his tongue along the sinewy lines of Jaejoong's arms, across hard muscles taut with the strain.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jaejoong pants, writhing uselessly against the ropes that chain him to the wall.
Yunho cups Jaejoong's erection, fondling it thought the worn, bleached fabric of his jeans.
“You don't seem to mind that much,” he grins, and slips a hand inside. He palms Jaejoong's cock roughly, finding it hard and ready; when he unzips his jeans and pulls it out drops of warm precome smear his hand.
Yunho resists the urge to lick his fingers clean to find out Jaejoong's taste; he brings them to Jaejoong’s mouth instead, running sticky pads across his lips. His other hand closes around his erection, circles it with teasing fingers until Jaejoong thrusts against him helplessly.
“I wouldn't mind biting those fingers off” Jaejoong half-growls, surprising Yunho with his ability to be snarky even in the middle of a handjob, but he opens his mouth nevertheless, allowing him to slip his fingers in; he sucks on them with little, obscene slurping sounds, never taking his eyes off Yunho's.
Yunho's almost on the edge when he hastily pulls his own pants down - he hisses when his cock meets the cold air of the cell, and Jaejoong whistles in a lewd way - and it doesn't take long for him to grab the back of the inmate's supple thighs and hoist him up. His hand snakes between their bodies to slip a slick finger past the tight ring of muscles; he prepares him as slowly and carefully as he can, in spite of Jaejoong's wanton thrusts against his fingers and of his own aching need.
“Enough,” Jaejoong pants, silencing Yunho's budding protest with a glare and a roll of his hips. He nods, moans loudly when the other man's body finally closes around his cock, warm and tight and sinful; his fingers dig into the firm flesh of Jaejoong's ass as he adjusts his position and thrusts inside him, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until he can't tell his and Jaejoong's moans apart.
There's nothing romantic about their coupling, just a primal need craving to be sated; Jaejoong’s legs are clamped painfully around his waist and Yunho knows Jaejoong is going to have purple bruises all over his thighs because of his fingers, but neither of them care. They’re both lost in the feel of each other’s bodies, their focus restricted to the place where flesh meets flesh with rough, fast thrusts; twin cries of ecstasy escape their lips when Yunho hits that spot inside Jaejoong and Jaejoong bites down hard on his shoulder and clenches around him, triggering Yunho's own release.
Jaejoong’s legs slide out of his now powerless grasp and Yunho slumps against him heavily, grateful for the solid wall behind the inmate's back that's keeping them both from collapsing on the floor. His face is pressed against the side of Jaejoong's neck and he breathes in the other man's scent, fighting back the temptation to nuzzle his nose into soft auburn hair. He settles for resting against him for a while, with Jaejoong's chest heaving under his own and Jaejoong's fading pants in his ears, feeling dirty and sated.
After a while he pulls away reluctantly, aware of the fact that he has no excuse to stay like that anymore - and Jaejoong is hardly the cuddly type, he thinks with a half smirk. His eyes fall to the angry red burns on Jaejoong's wrists, and he raises a hand to touch the coarse rope; he feels Jaejoong's eyes on him, slitted and sly like those of a feline, but the inmate doesn't say anything, doesn't ask. Doesn't beg. And Yunho pulls at the knots, makes the coils of rope come undone, first one and then the other.
There's a barely audible sigh of relief from Jaejoong, laced with pain, and nothing else; Yunho hears the rustle of clothes as the other pulls his pants up, the sound of a zipper, and from the corner of his eye he sees Jaejoong let himself fall heavily on the cot and stretch the sore muscles of his arms. Yunho feels like an idiot. He wasn't supposed to free Jaejoong, he wasn't supposed to fuck him, he isn't even supposed to be here; and yet he is, words lingering on the tip of his tongue and threatening to spill out. He digs his nails in his palms instead, mumbles a goodbye and walks towards the door.
“How careless, Yunho-sshi,” Jaejoong drawls behind him, sounding much closer than he should have, “don't they teach you not to turn your back on dangerous inmates?”
So he does remember my name, is Yunho's irrational first thought when Jaejoong presses against his back, breath hot into his ear and voice like black velvet.
“I could have killed you, you know? I could've jumped on you from behind and strangled you with my bare hands.”
Jaejoong’s fingers brush across Yunho’s throat, closing around his neck in a firm hold. Yunho can feel his own heartbeat skittering against Jaejoong’s palm, but despite this he turns his head as much as he can and flashes Jaejoong a lopsided smile.
“But you won’t.”
Jaejoong’s laughter is unexpected, amused and husky in his ear.
“Good answer,” he says, and nibbles on Yunho’s earlobe before showing him away in a way that’s not really rough, like an amicable shove between old friends.
“Try not to get yourself in trouble again,” Yunho hears himself say in a serious tone. He’s almost scared at how caring it sounds, nothing like the paternalistic shit guards give inmates all the time; and he sees Jaejoong’s eyes widen a little, then soften, then go back to their usual sly and calculating look. It happens so fast Yunho is not even sure he really saw it.
“Until next time, then,” Jaejoong says, making a mock salute towards him. His tone is full of darkness and promises, and while Yunho locks the door behind himself, he feels a shiver of anticipation run down his spine.
.End
uhm? =O
Pairing(s): JaeHo
Length: One-shot
Word count: 2600~
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, AU, prison!fic
A/N: Loosely inspired by Mirotic, both the song itself and the PV :3 So yeah, this is yet another Mirotic smut (except I'm late, as usual xD). I'd like to point out that despite being a prison fic it doesn't contain themes such as rape and abuse. Just saying :)
Dedicated to akagasuki for being my personal Google ♥ and to trespass cause she wanted to read this and cause she made me the hottest icon ever *O*♥
omfg fucking fic it sucks so much and I hate it ;__; but I refuse to edit more, so there DX
Jaejoong’s cell is small and ugly, squalid in its dirty nakedness, plunged into an eternal half-light; there's a narrow window closed by heavy iron bars but sunlight never quite reaches the stained floor, and shadows lurk in the corners of bare walls.
Yunho lingers on the other side of the bars that mark the confines of Jaejoong’s freedom, lets his gaze rest on the man behind them and wonders why he’s standing here in the first place, instead of being on patrolling duty in his wing as he’s supposed to do.
Jaejoong is roped to the wall - for the third time that month, it has to be some sort of record, Yunho thinks wryly - head hung low and body slumping forward in a gesture of tired defeat; he looks like a tamed beast, but Yunho knows appearances are deceptive, especially with Jaejoong.
His fingers clench around a cold metal bar unconsciously while his other hand fingers the key hidden in his uniform’s pocket - the key to Jaejoong’s cell, a copy he owns without permission - and contrasting impulses battle inside him. He should walk away, but the need to walk inside is far stronger, and wins over. Again.
“Oh, it’s you again.” Jaejoong lifts his head at the sound of the lock clicking open and trains beautiful, insolent eyes on him. Stray locks of auburn hair fall messily on his face, a face that haunts Yunho’s dreams and nightmares alike.
Yunho’s steps falter, hesitate. It’s not because he knows Jaejoong is a criminal, a murderer, dangerous, maybe even insane, because in a weird, instinctive way he knows Jaejoong accepts him; but he has never approached Jaejoong when he’s like this, before, so powerless and vulnerable, and wonders what the inmate's reaction could be.
“Feeling kinky today, hm?” Jaejoong says mockingly, making a truly obscene thing with his tongue and laughing at Yunho's subsequent blush. A self-satisfied smirk plays at the corner of his lips, but contorts into a pained wince when he tries to make a come hither gesture at Yunho.
The guard eyes the ropes tying Jaejoong's wrists to the wall - barbaric and primitive, but they can’t afford anything more sophisticated and it’s not like anyone gives a fuck about the inmates’ well being anyway - and feels something like compassion and worry tug at stomach.
'How are you?' he wants to ask. “That’s what you get for trying to knife other inmates,” he says instead, with a small shrug.
“Oooh, playing the bad guard, now?” Jaejoong says, eyes sparkling with amusement; Yunho’s not really sure what’s so amusing about it, his only certainty is that Jaejoong is making fun of him, as he always does.
“And besides he deserved it, the asshole,” Jaejoong continues with nonchalance, “nobody calls me a fag and walks away in one piece.”
Yunho arches an eyebrow at Jaejoong’s statement, but thinks that the other inmates must really be a bunch of brainless idiots if they haven't learned not to mess with Jaejoong by now, pretty face or not.
“C'mon,” Jaejoong says impatiently, “I don't have all day, y'know?”
Yunho grins despite himself at the utter absurdity of his words.
“What, got better places to be?” He takes a couple of steps forward until the two of them are mere inches apart.
“I wish,” Jaejoong chuckles dryly, “but here's not bad either, since an interesting distraction just appeared.”
The inmate's laughter is low and throaty, a delicious sound that makes burning tendrils of desire coil inside Yunho's belly and spread south. Jaejoong slumps against the cell wall and looks up at him, eyes dark under lowered lashes, seductive and bewitching and impossible to resist.
Maybe I'm really under his spell, is Yunho's last thought before he leans in to kiss the side of Jaejoong's pale neck; the other man sighs and closes his eyes, tilting his head back to bare his throat to Yunho's kisses.
Yunho runs his lips across smooth skin, drops little bites up his neck, on his soft earlobe, along his jaw. He stops at the corner of his mouth, unsure of just how much he can claim, and Jaejoong opens his eyes just a little, gives him a lazy grin and turns his head just enough to meet Yunho's lips with his own.
The kiss is slow, at first, just a brush of lips against lips; Jaejoong is letting Yunho take control, for now, so he kisses the other man unhurriedly, tentatively, as if he were treading dangerous grounds that could give way under his feet without warning and swallow him whole. With Jaejoong it's been like this since the very first time, and Yunho learned the lesson at his own expenses; there's no telling how he’ll react next, and this frightens and arouses him at the same time.
He bites down on the plump softness of Jaejoong's bottom lip, sucks on it until he feels a small moan escape his mouth, and finally the other man’s lips part under his kisses; the tip of a wet, pink tongue presses against his own lips, demanding entrance, and he yields, allowing Jaejoong's tongue to invade him, letting him free to explore and to ravage, if he wants to.
Jaejoong's kisses are hard, forceful, aggressive, the exact opposite of Yunho's, and yet they complement each other in a odd way, building a rhythm that's uneven but strangely satisfying. Yunho's moan loses itself inside Jaejoong's mouth as they keep kissing, fast and messily, the mesh of tongues and lips as heady and intoxicating as Jaejoong's taste on his tongue.
When Yunho pulls back, breathless, he finds Jaejoong staring back at him, hunger and lust darkening his gaze, so beautiful and wild that Yunho's breath catches in his throat.
He takes another step forward until their bodies touch, and the contact sends shivers up his spine; they haven't even gotten out of their clothes yet, but every cell of his body seems to respond to Jaejoong's presence, all his senses heightened to an electrifying intensity.
Jaejoong's lips curl into a feline grin, and a wanton moan of pleasure escapes his lips when he presses back against Yunho as far as his restraints allow him.
“Get these clothes off me already, waiting puts me in a bad mood,” he purrs, craning his neck forward to lick a wet path up Yunho's throat that ends with a sharp nip on the underside of his jaw.
Yunho lets out a muffled cry, more out of surprise than pain, and thinks he likes this - it's a game, one that Jaejoong seems to know perfectly how to play, because he threads the fine line between danger and excitement in a way that makes Yunho want to follow him.
He pushes Jaejoong back against the wall roughly, smirking a little at the surprise that flashes through his dark irises.
“Not so fast,” he murmurs, sliding a finger down Jaejoong's clothed chest, “I don't take orders from you.”
“Son of a bitch,” Jaejoong growls, but Yunho sees his feral grin widen and his eyes light up with excitement.
“Shut up,” he replies, as smoothly as he can manage, and bites down on Jaejoong’s nipple through the light cotton of his tanktop, making the other man let out a surprised mewl. He plays with it until it's taut and erect under his mouth, until Jaejoong utters something that's half a curse and half a moan and shoves his chest into Yunho's face.
“My grandma would be faster,” Jaejoong comments off-handedly, but Yunho is pleased to hear the breathless lilt in his voice. He slips his hands under his shirt to touch warm skin, following the irregular ridge of a scar with the pads of his fingers before stopping to play with the metal bar piercing through his navel. He rolls it between two fingers and Jaejoong hisses, muttering profanities under his breath that morph into breathless moans when Yunho's hand slides up to palm a taut nipple.
Yunho pulls Jaejoong's shirt up as much as he can, until it bunches under the inmate's armpits to expose his chest and stomach, and even if it's not the first time he sees him he still has to stop and stare. Jaejoong's body is all sharp angles and hard planes, toned and athletic, his skin marred here and there by a lifetime of surviving in streets and prisons but still pale and beautiful and perfect in Yunho's eyes. There's nothing soft about him, nothing submissive nor pliant even when he's like this, tied up and apparently powerless in front of Yunho.
“Like what you see?” Jaejoong murmurs, looking at him with hooded eyes and licking his lips, and Yunho feels himself grow even harder inside his pants.
“Mmh” he groans an affirmative, buries his face in the middle of his chest to breathe in the faint yet already familiar scent of his skin. He trails wet kisses across hard muscles until his mouth finds Jaejoong's pierced nipple; there's a sharp intake of breath from Jaejoong when he tugs at the metal with his teeth, and the inmate’s arms strain against their constraints in the futile effort to break free from Yunho's maddening teasing. Well-built muscles ripple under the skin, and Yunho can’t resist the temptation to run his tongue along the sinewy lines of Jaejoong's arms, across hard muscles taut with the strain.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jaejoong pants, writhing uselessly against the ropes that chain him to the wall.
Yunho cups Jaejoong's erection, fondling it thought the worn, bleached fabric of his jeans.
“You don't seem to mind that much,” he grins, and slips a hand inside. He palms Jaejoong's cock roughly, finding it hard and ready; when he unzips his jeans and pulls it out drops of warm precome smear his hand.
Yunho resists the urge to lick his fingers clean to find out Jaejoong's taste; he brings them to Jaejoong’s mouth instead, running sticky pads across his lips. His other hand closes around his erection, circles it with teasing fingers until Jaejoong thrusts against him helplessly.
“I wouldn't mind biting those fingers off” Jaejoong half-growls, surprising Yunho with his ability to be snarky even in the middle of a handjob, but he opens his mouth nevertheless, allowing him to slip his fingers in; he sucks on them with little, obscene slurping sounds, never taking his eyes off Yunho's.
Yunho's almost on the edge when he hastily pulls his own pants down - he hisses when his cock meets the cold air of the cell, and Jaejoong whistles in a lewd way - and it doesn't take long for him to grab the back of the inmate's supple thighs and hoist him up. His hand snakes between their bodies to slip a slick finger past the tight ring of muscles; he prepares him as slowly and carefully as he can, in spite of Jaejoong's wanton thrusts against his fingers and of his own aching need.
“Enough,” Jaejoong pants, silencing Yunho's budding protest with a glare and a roll of his hips. He nods, moans loudly when the other man's body finally closes around his cock, warm and tight and sinful; his fingers dig into the firm flesh of Jaejoong's ass as he adjusts his position and thrusts inside him, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until he can't tell his and Jaejoong's moans apart.
There's nothing romantic about their coupling, just a primal need craving to be sated; Jaejoong’s legs are clamped painfully around his waist and Yunho knows Jaejoong is going to have purple bruises all over his thighs because of his fingers, but neither of them care. They’re both lost in the feel of each other’s bodies, their focus restricted to the place where flesh meets flesh with rough, fast thrusts; twin cries of ecstasy escape their lips when Yunho hits that spot inside Jaejoong and Jaejoong bites down hard on his shoulder and clenches around him, triggering Yunho's own release.
Jaejoong’s legs slide out of his now powerless grasp and Yunho slumps against him heavily, grateful for the solid wall behind the inmate's back that's keeping them both from collapsing on the floor. His face is pressed against the side of Jaejoong's neck and he breathes in the other man's scent, fighting back the temptation to nuzzle his nose into soft auburn hair. He settles for resting against him for a while, with Jaejoong's chest heaving under his own and Jaejoong's fading pants in his ears, feeling dirty and sated.
After a while he pulls away reluctantly, aware of the fact that he has no excuse to stay like that anymore - and Jaejoong is hardly the cuddly type, he thinks with a half smirk. His eyes fall to the angry red burns on Jaejoong's wrists, and he raises a hand to touch the coarse rope; he feels Jaejoong's eyes on him, slitted and sly like those of a feline, but the inmate doesn't say anything, doesn't ask. Doesn't beg. And Yunho pulls at the knots, makes the coils of rope come undone, first one and then the other.
There's a barely audible sigh of relief from Jaejoong, laced with pain, and nothing else; Yunho hears the rustle of clothes as the other pulls his pants up, the sound of a zipper, and from the corner of his eye he sees Jaejoong let himself fall heavily on the cot and stretch the sore muscles of his arms. Yunho feels like an idiot. He wasn't supposed to free Jaejoong, he wasn't supposed to fuck him, he isn't even supposed to be here; and yet he is, words lingering on the tip of his tongue and threatening to spill out. He digs his nails in his palms instead, mumbles a goodbye and walks towards the door.
“How careless, Yunho-sshi,” Jaejoong drawls behind him, sounding much closer than he should have, “don't they teach you not to turn your back on dangerous inmates?”
So he does remember my name, is Yunho's irrational first thought when Jaejoong presses against his back, breath hot into his ear and voice like black velvet.
“I could have killed you, you know? I could've jumped on you from behind and strangled you with my bare hands.”
Jaejoong’s fingers brush across Yunho’s throat, closing around his neck in a firm hold. Yunho can feel his own heartbeat skittering against Jaejoong’s palm, but despite this he turns his head as much as he can and flashes Jaejoong a lopsided smile.
“But you won’t.”
Jaejoong’s laughter is unexpected, amused and husky in his ear.
“Good answer,” he says, and nibbles on Yunho’s earlobe before showing him away in a way that’s not really rough, like an amicable shove between old friends.
“Try not to get yourself in trouble again,” Yunho hears himself say in a serious tone. He’s almost scared at how caring it sounds, nothing like the paternalistic shit guards give inmates all the time; and he sees Jaejoong’s eyes widen a little, then soften, then go back to their usual sly and calculating look. It happens so fast Yunho is not even sure he really saw it.
“Until next time, then,” Jaejoong says, making a mock salute towards him. His tone is full of darkness and promises, and while Yunho locks the door behind himself, he feels a shiver of anticipation run down his spine.
.End
uhm? =O