DL (G-Dragon/Masta Wu)
Title: DL
Pairing: G-Dragon/Masta Wu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use (marijuana and crystal meth)
A/N: Just having a bit of fun and trying to make Wu slash work. I realize that the meth thing isn't very likely to happen, but Wu's always struck me as having, erm, a meth kind of face. I hope it's not just me. :D;
Marijuana was even better than he'd thought. His little quest to try it had started a few weeks ago, and Hyun Suk, Perry and Jinu had put up a united front of "maybe later"s and "when you're twenty"s, which had only motivated him even more to smoke some just to make a point. He knew full well that they kept some around - he could sometimes smell faint traces of it in the air when he went to Hyun Suk's apartment, and Jinu reeked of it on a regular basis.
They wouldn't budge, though, and the opportunity had only come when Wu had returned from... wherever he'd been, bearing his usual gifts from the States: snacks and drugs. He obviously hadn't gotten the memo, because now they were sitting on the floor in the deserted dance studio, sharing a joint. Wu wasn't talking much, but the silence was comfortable. They'd gone through the whole how-have-you-been thing already.
"Want the last puff?" Wu asked, offering him the joint.
Ji Yong reached for it, burned his finger and snatched his hand away quickly. "Ow!"
Wu snickered. "Wait," he said, then stuck the joint into his mouth and leaned in close.
Ji Yong had a faint idea of what he was trying to do - blowing the smoke into his mouth - so he leaned in too and pressed his lips against Wu's, which seemed like the logical thing to do. He knew instantly he'd done it wrong when Wu gave him a sudden shove and took the joint out of his mouth, laughing. "'The hell you doin'?"
"I... I dunno," he replied as casually as he could manage, blood rushing to his face.
Wu shook his head to himself, smiling faintly, and stubbed out the joint in the ashtray he'd set down between them.
***
Wu switched from Korean to English seemingly at random, and Ji Yong felt like his drug-addled mind was a camera lens slipping in and out of focus. They were on their second joint, this time, and he was so high he wasn't sure he could move. All of his brain power was focused on understanding Wu's lazy, drawling stream of consciousness.
"So you a faggot too, huh?" he asked after muttering something Ji Yong didn't understand, then slowly exhaled a thick plume of smoke.
He knew that word, at least, but he wasn't sure how to reply. He wanted to know who "too" was supposed to refer to, because Wu clearly wasn't talking about himself. Ji Yong was a faggot, as far as he knew, and that not-quite-kiss the previous week had gotten him thinking about Wu in ways he'd never had before. He looked laid-back and dangerous all at once, and the idea of kissing him for real sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Anybody home?" Wu said, waving a hand slowly in front of his face.
Ji Yong shook his head in an attempt to clear it, then tried to remember what the original question had been. "... Perry says only dickheads use that word," he heard himself say, adopting Wu's half-and-half jargon. He wasn't sure what "dickhead" translated to in Korean, anyway.
Wu snorted. "Yeah, well, he ain't here right now."
Ji Yong, once again, didn't know what to say. The silence stretched out for what seemed like several minutes, and his mind started running ahead of him. Maybe Wu wouldn't mind if he kissed him. Why was he asking about that, anyway? Maybe he'd actually kiss back, and then Ji Yong would be free to run his fingers over all those tattoos of his and see if there were any in places he hadn't seen before, and--
"You ain't answerin'."
Ji Yong took a deep breath, hoping his thought process wasn't showing on his face. "... Maybe I am," he said carefully.
Wu looked at him for a long moment. His lips twitched. "Maybe I'll letcha suck my dick if you are."
***
Wu was the only YG Entertainment artist who wandered in and out of the studios, in and out of the family as he pleased, like a friendly stray cat - even his contract wasn't quite enough to keep him around, and more often than not, Ji Yong had no idea whether he was in New York City or Seoul. Or maybe in jail somewhere - he could easily see that happening. It seemed like Wu had been lucky so far, though, because he always reappeared eventually. Maybe he just hadn't exhausted all nine of his lives yet.
Ji Yong spent more time wondering where Wu was than he'd like to admit. It's not like he missed him, exactly, but... Well, he missed the sharp smell of weed and he missed Wu's hand in his hair, holding him down firmly as he drove his dick deeper and deeper into his mouth. They never talked about it afterwards. Sometimes Wu would let him stay curled up at his feet with his head on his knee for a while, and they'd pass yet another joint back and forth until Ji Yong's dick stopped aching in his too-tight pants. He never dared touch himself in front of him.
Sometimes he wanted to do it just to see what would happen, though. He imagined Wu smacking him across the face, or hissing out quiet insults in English as he shoved him away, and the thought made his dick hard all over again. He liked danger, he figured, and offering sexual favors to a straight American rapper he knew next to nothing about was as good a way as any to get his fix.
***
Wu brought something other than weed back to Seoul, once. Ji Yong sat cross-legged on the small bed in his neglected-looking apartment, watching silently as he rummaged through a duffel bag and eventually came up with a small plastic bag and a glass pipe. Ji Yong wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but he knew enough to figure out that it'd be much better (or worse) than weed.
"You gotta keep quiet 'bout this shit, a'ight? No tellin' YG or Perry or anyone," Wu said as he sat down next to him.
He nodded, and Wu showed him how to use the pipe. He was expecting the high to creep up on him slowly like when they smoked weed, but he felt the rush almost instantly, and it was so damn good that he couldn't do anything except sit there and feel. He'd closed his eyes without realizing it, and only when he heard Wu laugh next to him did he open them again.
"Feels nice, huh?"
"Yeah," Ji Yong breathed out. His heart was racing and everything seemed sharp and bright around him. He felt like he could take on the entire fucking world, and this time when the thought of kissing Wu flitted through his mind, he leaned over and crushed their lips together, not caring in the slightest whether Wu liked it or not.
But he did. Ji Yong found himself suddenly pinned under him, clutching at his t-shirt as they shared a kiss that was more teeth than tongue. Wu ground his dick against Ji Yong's until he was panting and moaning uncontrollably into his mouth, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up when the weight was suddenly lifted off him and Wu ordered him to suck him off.
His knees hit the floor with a loud thump a second later, and it should've hurt, but somehow it didn't. He sucked until his jaw ached, his own dick twitching every time he did something right and Wu groaned quietly or held his head down or thrust up into his mouth.
The blowjob, though, wasn't enough to satisfy him this time, and eventually he pushed him away. "Take your clothes off."
Ji Yong stripped faster than he'd thought was possible. It was obvious what Wu wanted to do, and when he saw him reach over and open a drawer, he got back onto the bed, on all fours, without waiting for him to ask. Wu's fingers were rough as they pushed into him, slick with lubricant, and realizing the sheer stupidity of what he was doing sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through Ji Yong's body. The fingers were gone a second later, and he barely managed to stay still as he heard the clinking noise of Wu's belt and felt the mattress sag behind him, the anticipation almost too much to deal with.
It didn't hurt. That was the most surprising part. If he really focused, he could feel a dull, throbbing sensation that would've been pain under any other circumstances, but bright sparks exploded behind his eyelids every time Wu thrust into him, distracting him from everything else. They fucked for what seemed like hours (and maybe it was), Ji Yong somehow unable to come no matter how desperately he jerked himself off. The pleasure built up until his voice was hoarse and he thought his head was about to explode, and then he finally came, the rush so intense that everything went white and his arm buckled under him.
***
He woke up on the floor with a pounding headache, a very sore ass and the bite marks on his shoulders throbbing unpleasantly. They'd spent the entire night having sex and then talking about things that Ji Yong didn't even remember but that had seemed very deep and important at the time. And having more sex. It had taken him forever to fall asleep, and he wasn't sure how he'd ended up on the floor.
He stood up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, which seemed to be miles away, then poked around until he found a bottle of Tylenol that had expired about a year ago. He popped two into his mouth anyway, because he couldn't imagine side effects worse than what he'd just done to himself, then drank some water directly from the tap. The cold water woke him up a little, but he still didn't feel up to doing anything, and after staring at himself blankly in the mirror for a moment, he decided that his best option was to crawl back to bed.
Wu woke up when he climbed on. Ji Yong didn't realize it until he squirmed closer to him and put his head on his chest - Wu raised his head slightly and blinked down at him, then let it fall back to his pillow. "You cold?"
"No."
"... Fuckin' fags," Wu muttered, eyes closed, but didn't try to push him away. Ji Yong couldn't be bothered to move now that he'd found a comfortable position, so he stayed right where he was, letting the slow rise and fall of Wu's chest lull him back to sleep.
Wu was nowhere to be found when he woke up again.
***
Ji Yong sprawled on Wu's bed, spreading himself out as much as possible in an attempt to cool off. He was always reduced to a sweaty, exhausted mess by the time Wu was done with him, and tonight was no exception. He loved it, though - Wu had no qualms about fucking him now that he'd gotten high enough to do it once, but despite the intimacy of the act, Ji Yong still had the impression that saying or doing the wrong thing would get him in a world of trouble.
And Wu never really touched him, despite everything they were doing. Ji Yong didn't think that the bruising grip on his hip or shoulder while he fucked his brains out really counted. Neither did the way he yanked him around by his hair. Ji Yong liked it that way, but sometimes he wondered how far Wu would allow him to go if he started pushing a little. Maybe he actually liked him under the tough exterior.
Wu walked back into the room, holding a pack of cigarettes, and stopped next to the bed. "Move."
Ji Yong turned onto his side and Wu sat down on the edge of the mattress. He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. On a whim, Ji Yong snatched it from him to steal a puff or two. He usually preferred to ruin his lungs with things that were really worth it, but tobacco was nice once in a while. He associated it with the utter contentment that followed sex with Wu.
Wu grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back before taking the cigarette from his mouth. "Ain't got no respect for your elders," he said, clearly amused, and gave his hair another tug before letting go.
Ji Yong made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away. "I'm gonna cut my hair so you can't pull it anymore."
"Bullshit. You like that."
He shrugged, repressing a smile, and watched him smoke silently. He was mildly surprised that Wu even noticed what he liked, and that made him want to test his limits even more. He sat up and scooted closer to Wu, who glanced his way but otherwise didn't react. He waited until he was almost done with the cigarette before plucking it from his lips and leaning in to kiss him.
Wu didn't kiss him back, but he didn't punch him in the face, either. "Whatcha tryin'a do? I ain't your boyfriend, kid," he said, looking at him impassively, and the sudden certainty that he'd never actually hurt him left Ji Yong grinning like an idiot rather than feeling disappointed.
Pairing: G-Dragon/Masta Wu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use (marijuana and crystal meth)
A/N: Just having a bit of fun and trying to make Wu slash work. I realize that the meth thing isn't very likely to happen, but Wu's always struck me as having, erm, a meth kind of face. I hope it's not just me. :D;
Marijuana was even better than he'd thought. His little quest to try it had started a few weeks ago, and Hyun Suk, Perry and Jinu had put up a united front of "maybe later"s and "when you're twenty"s, which had only motivated him even more to smoke some just to make a point. He knew full well that they kept some around - he could sometimes smell faint traces of it in the air when he went to Hyun Suk's apartment, and Jinu reeked of it on a regular basis.
They wouldn't budge, though, and the opportunity had only come when Wu had returned from... wherever he'd been, bearing his usual gifts from the States: snacks and drugs. He obviously hadn't gotten the memo, because now they were sitting on the floor in the deserted dance studio, sharing a joint. Wu wasn't talking much, but the silence was comfortable. They'd gone through the whole how-have-you-been thing already.
"Want the last puff?" Wu asked, offering him the joint.
Ji Yong reached for it, burned his finger and snatched his hand away quickly. "Ow!"
Wu snickered. "Wait," he said, then stuck the joint into his mouth and leaned in close.
Ji Yong had a faint idea of what he was trying to do - blowing the smoke into his mouth - so he leaned in too and pressed his lips against Wu's, which seemed like the logical thing to do. He knew instantly he'd done it wrong when Wu gave him a sudden shove and took the joint out of his mouth, laughing. "'The hell you doin'?"
"I... I dunno," he replied as casually as he could manage, blood rushing to his face.
Wu shook his head to himself, smiling faintly, and stubbed out the joint in the ashtray he'd set down between them.
***
Wu switched from Korean to English seemingly at random, and Ji Yong felt like his drug-addled mind was a camera lens slipping in and out of focus. They were on their second joint, this time, and he was so high he wasn't sure he could move. All of his brain power was focused on understanding Wu's lazy, drawling stream of consciousness.
"So you a faggot too, huh?" he asked after muttering something Ji Yong didn't understand, then slowly exhaled a thick plume of smoke.
He knew that word, at least, but he wasn't sure how to reply. He wanted to know who "too" was supposed to refer to, because Wu clearly wasn't talking about himself. Ji Yong was a faggot, as far as he knew, and that not-quite-kiss the previous week had gotten him thinking about Wu in ways he'd never had before. He looked laid-back and dangerous all at once, and the idea of kissing him for real sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Anybody home?" Wu said, waving a hand slowly in front of his face.
Ji Yong shook his head in an attempt to clear it, then tried to remember what the original question had been. "... Perry says only dickheads use that word," he heard himself say, adopting Wu's half-and-half jargon. He wasn't sure what "dickhead" translated to in Korean, anyway.
Wu snorted. "Yeah, well, he ain't here right now."
Ji Yong, once again, didn't know what to say. The silence stretched out for what seemed like several minutes, and his mind started running ahead of him. Maybe Wu wouldn't mind if he kissed him. Why was he asking about that, anyway? Maybe he'd actually kiss back, and then Ji Yong would be free to run his fingers over all those tattoos of his and see if there were any in places he hadn't seen before, and--
"You ain't answerin'."
Ji Yong took a deep breath, hoping his thought process wasn't showing on his face. "... Maybe I am," he said carefully.
Wu looked at him for a long moment. His lips twitched. "Maybe I'll letcha suck my dick if you are."
***
Wu was the only YG Entertainment artist who wandered in and out of the studios, in and out of the family as he pleased, like a friendly stray cat - even his contract wasn't quite enough to keep him around, and more often than not, Ji Yong had no idea whether he was in New York City or Seoul. Or maybe in jail somewhere - he could easily see that happening. It seemed like Wu had been lucky so far, though, because he always reappeared eventually. Maybe he just hadn't exhausted all nine of his lives yet.
Ji Yong spent more time wondering where Wu was than he'd like to admit. It's not like he missed him, exactly, but... Well, he missed the sharp smell of weed and he missed Wu's hand in his hair, holding him down firmly as he drove his dick deeper and deeper into his mouth. They never talked about it afterwards. Sometimes Wu would let him stay curled up at his feet with his head on his knee for a while, and they'd pass yet another joint back and forth until Ji Yong's dick stopped aching in his too-tight pants. He never dared touch himself in front of him.
Sometimes he wanted to do it just to see what would happen, though. He imagined Wu smacking him across the face, or hissing out quiet insults in English as he shoved him away, and the thought made his dick hard all over again. He liked danger, he figured, and offering sexual favors to a straight American rapper he knew next to nothing about was as good a way as any to get his fix.
***
Wu brought something other than weed back to Seoul, once. Ji Yong sat cross-legged on the small bed in his neglected-looking apartment, watching silently as he rummaged through a duffel bag and eventually came up with a small plastic bag and a glass pipe. Ji Yong wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but he knew enough to figure out that it'd be much better (or worse) than weed.
"You gotta keep quiet 'bout this shit, a'ight? No tellin' YG or Perry or anyone," Wu said as he sat down next to him.
He nodded, and Wu showed him how to use the pipe. He was expecting the high to creep up on him slowly like when they smoked weed, but he felt the rush almost instantly, and it was so damn good that he couldn't do anything except sit there and feel. He'd closed his eyes without realizing it, and only when he heard Wu laugh next to him did he open them again.
"Feels nice, huh?"
"Yeah," Ji Yong breathed out. His heart was racing and everything seemed sharp and bright around him. He felt like he could take on the entire fucking world, and this time when the thought of kissing Wu flitted through his mind, he leaned over and crushed their lips together, not caring in the slightest whether Wu liked it or not.
But he did. Ji Yong found himself suddenly pinned under him, clutching at his t-shirt as they shared a kiss that was more teeth than tongue. Wu ground his dick against Ji Yong's until he was panting and moaning uncontrollably into his mouth, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up when the weight was suddenly lifted off him and Wu ordered him to suck him off.
His knees hit the floor with a loud thump a second later, and it should've hurt, but somehow it didn't. He sucked until his jaw ached, his own dick twitching every time he did something right and Wu groaned quietly or held his head down or thrust up into his mouth.
The blowjob, though, wasn't enough to satisfy him this time, and eventually he pushed him away. "Take your clothes off."
Ji Yong stripped faster than he'd thought was possible. It was obvious what Wu wanted to do, and when he saw him reach over and open a drawer, he got back onto the bed, on all fours, without waiting for him to ask. Wu's fingers were rough as they pushed into him, slick with lubricant, and realizing the sheer stupidity of what he was doing sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through Ji Yong's body. The fingers were gone a second later, and he barely managed to stay still as he heard the clinking noise of Wu's belt and felt the mattress sag behind him, the anticipation almost too much to deal with.
It didn't hurt. That was the most surprising part. If he really focused, he could feel a dull, throbbing sensation that would've been pain under any other circumstances, but bright sparks exploded behind his eyelids every time Wu thrust into him, distracting him from everything else. They fucked for what seemed like hours (and maybe it was), Ji Yong somehow unable to come no matter how desperately he jerked himself off. The pleasure built up until his voice was hoarse and he thought his head was about to explode, and then he finally came, the rush so intense that everything went white and his arm buckled under him.
***
He woke up on the floor with a pounding headache, a very sore ass and the bite marks on his shoulders throbbing unpleasantly. They'd spent the entire night having sex and then talking about things that Ji Yong didn't even remember but that had seemed very deep and important at the time. And having more sex. It had taken him forever to fall asleep, and he wasn't sure how he'd ended up on the floor.
He stood up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, which seemed to be miles away, then poked around until he found a bottle of Tylenol that had expired about a year ago. He popped two into his mouth anyway, because he couldn't imagine side effects worse than what he'd just done to himself, then drank some water directly from the tap. The cold water woke him up a little, but he still didn't feel up to doing anything, and after staring at himself blankly in the mirror for a moment, he decided that his best option was to crawl back to bed.
Wu woke up when he climbed on. Ji Yong didn't realize it until he squirmed closer to him and put his head on his chest - Wu raised his head slightly and blinked down at him, then let it fall back to his pillow. "You cold?"
"No."
"... Fuckin' fags," Wu muttered, eyes closed, but didn't try to push him away. Ji Yong couldn't be bothered to move now that he'd found a comfortable position, so he stayed right where he was, letting the slow rise and fall of Wu's chest lull him back to sleep.
Wu was nowhere to be found when he woke up again.
***
Ji Yong sprawled on Wu's bed, spreading himself out as much as possible in an attempt to cool off. He was always reduced to a sweaty, exhausted mess by the time Wu was done with him, and tonight was no exception. He loved it, though - Wu had no qualms about fucking him now that he'd gotten high enough to do it once, but despite the intimacy of the act, Ji Yong still had the impression that saying or doing the wrong thing would get him in a world of trouble.
And Wu never really touched him, despite everything they were doing. Ji Yong didn't think that the bruising grip on his hip or shoulder while he fucked his brains out really counted. Neither did the way he yanked him around by his hair. Ji Yong liked it that way, but sometimes he wondered how far Wu would allow him to go if he started pushing a little. Maybe he actually liked him under the tough exterior.
Wu walked back into the room, holding a pack of cigarettes, and stopped next to the bed. "Move."
Ji Yong turned onto his side and Wu sat down on the edge of the mattress. He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. On a whim, Ji Yong snatched it from him to steal a puff or two. He usually preferred to ruin his lungs with things that were really worth it, but tobacco was nice once in a while. He associated it with the utter contentment that followed sex with Wu.
Wu grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back before taking the cigarette from his mouth. "Ain't got no respect for your elders," he said, clearly amused, and gave his hair another tug before letting go.
Ji Yong made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away. "I'm gonna cut my hair so you can't pull it anymore."
"Bullshit. You like that."
He shrugged, repressing a smile, and watched him smoke silently. He was mildly surprised that Wu even noticed what he liked, and that made him want to test his limits even more. He sat up and scooted closer to Wu, who glanced his way but otherwise didn't react. He waited until he was almost done with the cigarette before plucking it from his lips and leaning in to kiss him.
Wu didn't kiss him back, but he didn't punch him in the face, either. "Whatcha tryin'a do? I ain't your boyfriend, kid," he said, looking at him impassively, and the sudden certainty that he'd never actually hurt him left Ji Yong grinning like an idiot rather than feeling disappointed.