[ fic ] one, two, three (or four)
INFINITE | sungkyu/sungjong | R | 1,028 w
sungjong loses his virginity, more than once.
written for this prompt at infinitememe
It was the year he turned twenty.
That’s what Sungjong would say if anyone ever asks. (Not that anyone would, because they’re idols and he’s the youngest. And that means that him, more than anyone else, is supposed to pretend that sex is not a thing he understands, that he does not think about sex, nevermind actually having sex.) No one asks, so he just tells himself.
They were in between promotions (blessed rest, blessed privacy, something very necessary for certain body functions to work properly). He spent the first day of rest plucking colourful feathers from his hideous hat. He spent the second day (mostly) sleeping. By the third day he was rested enough to be a functional human being - and judging by the empty state of their dorm so had everyone else. It was quiet, blessedly quiet, and Sungjong spent a beautiful moment thinking about maybe going hiking and enjoying the early summer weather.
And then Sungkyu shuffled out of the bathroom and yawned like a lion. It was not a pretty sight.
“Did you just get up?” Sungkyu’s voice was still rough with sleep, he ruffled Sungjong’s hair casually and smiled, lazy, easy. “You rested well.”
Sungkyu was not attractive when he first woke up, his (already small) eyes weren’t fully opened, his hair was a mess and his body looked like a sack of potatoes in his loose tee and sweat pants. But something about him, about all of that unattractive mess, was so compelling that Sungjong ditched whatever half formed plan he had right then and there.
Sungjong smiled, and he wondered absently if he looked as stupid as Sungkyu did (he was fairly certain that he didn’t).
“Have you eaten yet, hyung?”
They made breakfast (lunch) together and washed the dishes after, spent a lazy morning (afternoon) together that eventually unravelled into the two of them mostly naked in Sungkyu’s bed. He wasn’t really sure who suggested it (a quiet whisper, ‘let’s try again.’) but they ended up like that anyways and that was all that mattered. They took it slow, because they had all the time to explore each other’s body (or maybe because they were too lazy to go faster, Sungjong couldn’t really complain either way). Sungkyu’s hands were as expressive on Sungjong’s body as they were when he rubbed a mic stand.
(It was a terrible comparison but, Sungjong tells himself later, it wasn’t as if he could think straight in the heat of the moment.)
Sungjong tried to do the same, ran his hand down Sungkyu’s back and touched so much skin (warm, smooth, soft), he grabbed Sungkyu’s weirdly boney ass and other things. He liked it and Sungkyu liked it, they told each other in moans and muffled mumbles against sweaty skin.
It was pretty much fantastic, even when Sungkyu pushed into him and it hurt like fuck. (How could anyone fall asleep with a dick inside them was a mystery to Sungjong, not that it had ever happened to anyone he knew. Not at all.)
The pain faded quickly (eventually) and Sungjong ended up with his legs wrapped around Sungkyu’s waist as Sungkyu fucked him slowly and their lips lazily looked for each other. Even though they were going slowly Sungjong felt his heart speed up continually, felt comfortably breathless as he rubbed his thumb over Sungkyu’s eye because he still had a hint of eyeliner that he hadn’t removed properly (why did he wear eyeliner on their days off?). He smiled, kissed and sighed against Sungkyu’s cheek, quietly thankful that, this time, it was good.
They didn’t come together and coming itself was still a messy business (nothing could change that, sex was messy and gross rather than lovely and beautiful) but that was okay, because Sungkyu made sure to jerk him off before rolling off him.
They needed to change the sheets and clean up, but later. It was nice, they weren’t cuddling but Sungkyu’s arm was pressed to Sungjong’s and it was a different kind of nice, just lying together on top of messy bed sheets as they cooled down.
“It was good this time, right?” Sungkyu asked once his breathing was even again, running a finger up and down Sungjong’s arm.
“Yes, it was good.”
“Yes!” Sungkyu threw his arms up over his head, cheering (lying down, it was their lazy way of cheering) and Sungjong just laughed (quiet and light, because he couldn’t be bothered to put any more energy into it).
It wasn’t exactly perfect. It wasn’t passionate and romantic, heaving chests and lips devouring each other, but it worked for them. It was good, fantastic even.
That was his first time, if anyone ever asked.
(It was certainly not months ago, earlier in the year, and Sungkyu had certainly not nearly smothered him with his penis.
Or just after the New Year in a change room, and no one had knocked on the wall and made Sungkyu go limp immediately, startled and horrified by Sungyeol’s too loud voice. ‘When I said get a room, I did not mean the change room!’
And it definitely wasn’t last year, sometime in November, Sungkyu too exhausted to move and Sungjong too desperate and needy to back off even though he should have. It wasn’t when Sungkyu had dark circles so big that he’d had to be made up like a painting. Not when Sungjong quietly waited up without telling Sungkyu, just listened for the sound of him coming back.
And that totally hadn’t ended with Sungkyu fast asleep, with Sungjong’s dick jammed up his ass.
It never happened.)
If anyone ever asked (no one would), his first time was almost perfect. And Sungjong was sticking to that story.
Sungjong laced their fingers together and turned (just his head) to look at Sungkyu with a smile.
“We have to do this again.”
“We will.”
But not right now, they both agreed, later. Because they were both tired and it was a good time for an afternoon nap.
(Later, Myungsoo totally did not come back and find them naked and dirty in bed. He was absolutely not traumatised. 'I hate you, both of you.')
sungjong loses his virginity, more than once.
written for this prompt at infinitememe
It was the year he turned twenty.
That’s what Sungjong would say if anyone ever asks. (Not that anyone would, because they’re idols and he’s the youngest. And that means that him, more than anyone else, is supposed to pretend that sex is not a thing he understands, that he does not think about sex, nevermind actually having sex.) No one asks, so he just tells himself.
They were in between promotions (blessed rest, blessed privacy, something very necessary for certain body functions to work properly). He spent the first day of rest plucking colourful feathers from his hideous hat. He spent the second day (mostly) sleeping. By the third day he was rested enough to be a functional human being - and judging by the empty state of their dorm so had everyone else. It was quiet, blessedly quiet, and Sungjong spent a beautiful moment thinking about maybe going hiking and enjoying the early summer weather.
And then Sungkyu shuffled out of the bathroom and yawned like a lion. It was not a pretty sight.
“Did you just get up?” Sungkyu’s voice was still rough with sleep, he ruffled Sungjong’s hair casually and smiled, lazy, easy. “You rested well.”
Sungkyu was not attractive when he first woke up, his (already small) eyes weren’t fully opened, his hair was a mess and his body looked like a sack of potatoes in his loose tee and sweat pants. But something about him, about all of that unattractive mess, was so compelling that Sungjong ditched whatever half formed plan he had right then and there.
Sungjong smiled, and he wondered absently if he looked as stupid as Sungkyu did (he was fairly certain that he didn’t).
“Have you eaten yet, hyung?”
They made breakfast (lunch) together and washed the dishes after, spent a lazy morning (afternoon) together that eventually unravelled into the two of them mostly naked in Sungkyu’s bed. He wasn’t really sure who suggested it (a quiet whisper, ‘let’s try again.’) but they ended up like that anyways and that was all that mattered. They took it slow, because they had all the time to explore each other’s body (or maybe because they were too lazy to go faster, Sungjong couldn’t really complain either way). Sungkyu’s hands were as expressive on Sungjong’s body as they were when he rubbed a mic stand.
(It was a terrible comparison but, Sungjong tells himself later, it wasn’t as if he could think straight in the heat of the moment.)
Sungjong tried to do the same, ran his hand down Sungkyu’s back and touched so much skin (warm, smooth, soft), he grabbed Sungkyu’s weirdly boney ass and other things. He liked it and Sungkyu liked it, they told each other in moans and muffled mumbles against sweaty skin.
It was pretty much fantastic, even when Sungkyu pushed into him and it hurt like fuck. (How could anyone fall asleep with a dick inside them was a mystery to Sungjong, not that it had ever happened to anyone he knew. Not at all.)
The pain faded quickly (eventually) and Sungjong ended up with his legs wrapped around Sungkyu’s waist as Sungkyu fucked him slowly and their lips lazily looked for each other. Even though they were going slowly Sungjong felt his heart speed up continually, felt comfortably breathless as he rubbed his thumb over Sungkyu’s eye because he still had a hint of eyeliner that he hadn’t removed properly (why did he wear eyeliner on their days off?). He smiled, kissed and sighed against Sungkyu’s cheek, quietly thankful that, this time, it was good.
They didn’t come together and coming itself was still a messy business (nothing could change that, sex was messy and gross rather than lovely and beautiful) but that was okay, because Sungkyu made sure to jerk him off before rolling off him.
They needed to change the sheets and clean up, but later. It was nice, they weren’t cuddling but Sungkyu’s arm was pressed to Sungjong’s and it was a different kind of nice, just lying together on top of messy bed sheets as they cooled down.
“It was good this time, right?” Sungkyu asked once his breathing was even again, running a finger up and down Sungjong’s arm.
“Yes, it was good.”
“Yes!” Sungkyu threw his arms up over his head, cheering (lying down, it was their lazy way of cheering) and Sungjong just laughed (quiet and light, because he couldn’t be bothered to put any more energy into it).
It wasn’t exactly perfect. It wasn’t passionate and romantic, heaving chests and lips devouring each other, but it worked for them. It was good, fantastic even.
That was his first time, if anyone ever asked.
(It was certainly not months ago, earlier in the year, and Sungkyu had certainly not nearly smothered him with his penis.
Or just after the New Year in a change room, and no one had knocked on the wall and made Sungkyu go limp immediately, startled and horrified by Sungyeol’s too loud voice. ‘When I said get a room, I did not mean the change room!’
And it definitely wasn’t last year, sometime in November, Sungkyu too exhausted to move and Sungjong too desperate and needy to back off even though he should have. It wasn’t when Sungkyu had dark circles so big that he’d had to be made up like a painting. Not when Sungjong quietly waited up without telling Sungkyu, just listened for the sound of him coming back.
And that totally hadn’t ended with Sungkyu fast asleep, with Sungjong’s dick jammed up his ass.
It never happened.)
If anyone ever asked (no one would), his first time was almost perfect. And Sungjong was sticking to that story.
Sungjong laced their fingers together and turned (just his head) to look at Sungkyu with a smile.
“We have to do this again.”
“We will.”
But not right now, they both agreed, later. Because they were both tired and it was a good time for an afternoon nap.
(Later, Myungsoo totally did not come back and find them naked and dirty in bed. He was absolutely not traumatised. 'I hate you, both of you.')