This Is Okay
Rating: R (sexuality)
Pairing: GTOP
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I AM going to see them in concert... hell yes I am.
Description: Jiyong wants Seunghyun to tell him this is okay. A decision in 925 words.
“Is this okay?”
Seunghyun’s too busy trying to remember how to breathe to answer, so he just kind of grunts and hopes the asker can decipher his garbled thoughts from that one, ambiguous noise. Is this okay? He doesn’t know. One minute he was passed out in a pleasant, drunken stupor, and the next… the next, something heavy was draped over him, and a warm, wet thing was making lazy paths up and down his neck.
“Hyung… are you awake?”
He grunts again, because he is awake. His mind is wide awake, but his body won’t move. Can’t move. He’s stuck on his back with his arms at his sides, and Jiyong (all sharp angles and hot skin) is writhing on top of him with his lips on his neck, and he is more awake than he’s ever been in his whole life.
Soft fingers trail up his arm, into his sleeve, over his shoulder. Seunghyun shivers. It’s not even really sexual contact, but it’s so sincere he can’t help the tremors from wracking his body. He blames it on the alcohol. Like that one song. What’s it called?
“Your skin is so soft. You should show it more.”
A beat here. A breath.
“You’re beautiful.”
The words, combined with the touches and Jiyong’s tongue darting out to lick just behind his ear, have Seunghyun sighing into the darkness of his otherwise silent room. It’s so nice to hear that coming from someone who really knows him; someone who’s not saying it just to get something from him. When the tongue turns to teeth and scrape over his Adam’s apple, he amends that thought: Jiyong definitely wants something from him. He’s not sure what it is, exactly, but Seunghyun is positive that if he keeps tonguing that spot on his neck, he’ll give him anything he wants.
And he still can’t bring himself to speak.
Jiyong’s fingers have left his arm now. They’re creeping under the hem of his t-shirt, tickling his stomach, dipping into his bellybutton. Seunghyun sucks wind between his chapped lips when those roaming digits sweep under the elastic of his boxers, tangle in the hair of his happy trail. Jiyong tugs. Seunghyun mewls.
“Say something, hyung. Tell me you want this,” Jiyong pleads, hands and lips stilling on Seunghyun’s too-hot skin.
He’s still drunk, and the world is spinning, and everything is moving too fast. How did they get here? Seunghyun isn’t even sure he’s decided on an answer to Jiyong’s first question, and now he wants him to give his consent to do… whatever it is he was about to do before he had a pang of conscience. Hadn’t he just thought he’d give Jiyong anything he wanted if he kept up his seduction play? But now Jiyong’s fingers are laying heavy on his stomach, and Jiyong’s lips are doing nothing but directing warm breath onto his neck.
And Seunghyun’s mouth won’t form the words he wants to say.
Don’t stop. Keep touching me. I want this. I want you.
“Tell me, please.” Jiyong is begging now, his voice lilting hopefully. “Just say this is okay.”
Seunghyun hasn’t opened his eyes this whole time, and his throat is staying just as closed, and all he wants is to push air past his vocal chords and say yes, God yes! But the only thing making its way past his lips is a pitiful, choked whine. Why can’t he just say what he wants?
The warm mass that is Jiyong lifts and shifts away, leaving cold air to rush into the gap between their bodies. He’s on his knees, weight still bending the mattress, but even without opening his eyes Seunghyun can tell he’s a second away from disappearing entirely. He can feel tears stinging his sinuses, high up, as they gather in his tear ducts, waiting to slide out between his lashes. He’s drunk, and he’s scared of the intensity of what he’s feeling, of the feelings themselves, but he’s even more afraid of never experiencing them again. The mental war he’s raging is almost enough for him to miss it when Jiyong finally does stand and turn to leave, but the brush of a knee against his own brings him back to the physical world.
His eyes snap open. He captures Jiyong’s delicate wrist with gentle fingers, and he pulls. The force isn’t enough to cause the younger man to come careening back like he does, limbs jutting out at all angles as he falls gracelessly back on top of his elder. But isn’t it just like Jiyong to put on a show? Seunghyun snorts, and his lips turn up into a silly grin, and he lies still again once more. Their hearts beat like kettle drums in the silence. Jiyong’s fingers eventually retrace their steps up Seunghyun’s arm, into his sleeve, and his nails scratch the bony protrusion at the top of his shoulder. His lips hover near Seunghyun’s ear.
“Hyung… do you-”
“I want this.”
There it is: truth, verbalized. Finally.
“I want you.”
He can’t see it, but he can feel Jiyong smiling into his skin.
“This is okay.”
And it is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s heaven when Jiyong’s hand slides back down into his boxers, and his teeth pinch and pull the delicate skin of his throat. It’s like witnessing the birth of the universe when he comes apart in that soft, sure hand, and Seunghyun ends the night just as he began it: by trying to remember how to breathe.
Pairing: GTOP
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I AM going to see them in concert... hell yes I am.
Description: Jiyong wants Seunghyun to tell him this is okay. A decision in 925 words.
“Is this okay?”
Seunghyun’s too busy trying to remember how to breathe to answer, so he just kind of grunts and hopes the asker can decipher his garbled thoughts from that one, ambiguous noise. Is this okay? He doesn’t know. One minute he was passed out in a pleasant, drunken stupor, and the next… the next, something heavy was draped over him, and a warm, wet thing was making lazy paths up and down his neck.
“Hyung… are you awake?”
He grunts again, because he is awake. His mind is wide awake, but his body won’t move. Can’t move. He’s stuck on his back with his arms at his sides, and Jiyong (all sharp angles and hot skin) is writhing on top of him with his lips on his neck, and he is more awake than he’s ever been in his whole life.
Soft fingers trail up his arm, into his sleeve, over his shoulder. Seunghyun shivers. It’s not even really sexual contact, but it’s so sincere he can’t help the tremors from wracking his body. He blames it on the alcohol. Like that one song. What’s it called?
“Your skin is so soft. You should show it more.”
A beat here. A breath.
“You’re beautiful.”
The words, combined with the touches and Jiyong’s tongue darting out to lick just behind his ear, have Seunghyun sighing into the darkness of his otherwise silent room. It’s so nice to hear that coming from someone who really knows him; someone who’s not saying it just to get something from him. When the tongue turns to teeth and scrape over his Adam’s apple, he amends that thought: Jiyong definitely wants something from him. He’s not sure what it is, exactly, but Seunghyun is positive that if he keeps tonguing that spot on his neck, he’ll give him anything he wants.
And he still can’t bring himself to speak.
Jiyong’s fingers have left his arm now. They’re creeping under the hem of his t-shirt, tickling his stomach, dipping into his bellybutton. Seunghyun sucks wind between his chapped lips when those roaming digits sweep under the elastic of his boxers, tangle in the hair of his happy trail. Jiyong tugs. Seunghyun mewls.
“Say something, hyung. Tell me you want this,” Jiyong pleads, hands and lips stilling on Seunghyun’s too-hot skin.
He’s still drunk, and the world is spinning, and everything is moving too fast. How did they get here? Seunghyun isn’t even sure he’s decided on an answer to Jiyong’s first question, and now he wants him to give his consent to do… whatever it is he was about to do before he had a pang of conscience. Hadn’t he just thought he’d give Jiyong anything he wanted if he kept up his seduction play? But now Jiyong’s fingers are laying heavy on his stomach, and Jiyong’s lips are doing nothing but directing warm breath onto his neck.
And Seunghyun’s mouth won’t form the words he wants to say.
Don’t stop. Keep touching me. I want this. I want you.
“Tell me, please.” Jiyong is begging now, his voice lilting hopefully. “Just say this is okay.”
Seunghyun hasn’t opened his eyes this whole time, and his throat is staying just as closed, and all he wants is to push air past his vocal chords and say yes, God yes! But the only thing making its way past his lips is a pitiful, choked whine. Why can’t he just say what he wants?
The warm mass that is Jiyong lifts and shifts away, leaving cold air to rush into the gap between their bodies. He’s on his knees, weight still bending the mattress, but even without opening his eyes Seunghyun can tell he’s a second away from disappearing entirely. He can feel tears stinging his sinuses, high up, as they gather in his tear ducts, waiting to slide out between his lashes. He’s drunk, and he’s scared of the intensity of what he’s feeling, of the feelings themselves, but he’s even more afraid of never experiencing them again. The mental war he’s raging is almost enough for him to miss it when Jiyong finally does stand and turn to leave, but the brush of a knee against his own brings him back to the physical world.
His eyes snap open. He captures Jiyong’s delicate wrist with gentle fingers, and he pulls. The force isn’t enough to cause the younger man to come careening back like he does, limbs jutting out at all angles as he falls gracelessly back on top of his elder. But isn’t it just like Jiyong to put on a show? Seunghyun snorts, and his lips turn up into a silly grin, and he lies still again once more. Their hearts beat like kettle drums in the silence. Jiyong’s fingers eventually retrace their steps up Seunghyun’s arm, into his sleeve, and his nails scratch the bony protrusion at the top of his shoulder. His lips hover near Seunghyun’s ear.
“Hyung… do you-”
“I want this.”
There it is: truth, verbalized. Finally.
“I want you.”
He can’t see it, but he can feel Jiyong smiling into his skin.
“This is okay.”
And it is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s heaven when Jiyong’s hand slides back down into his boxers, and his teeth pinch and pull the delicate skin of his throat. It’s like witnessing the birth of the universe when he comes apart in that soft, sure hand, and Seunghyun ends the night just as he began it: by trying to remember how to breathe.