Summer Loving
Title: Summer Loving
Author: himawarixxsandz
Pairing: DooSeob
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Yoseob hates the heat. Doojoon has powers of persuasion.
A/N: Today the seniors graduate. Everyone else has the day off. I have no senior brothers or sisters or cousins or relatives or boyfriend, although my orchestra oppa is graduating. I'm bored. Already posted up too much crap about MBLEAST. Ate too much kabob. Am full. Tomorrow's last day of classes. Am ridiculously happy. But. Don't want to be a junior. And come closer to having to deal with Life. As an adult. Wrote this because I hate the heat even though I love summer vacation and beaches. And I felt like DooSeob. When do I ever not.
Yoseob doesn’t like the heat. He doesn’t like those summer months spent in the practice room, spent in the recording room because for some reason BEAST never ends up active during the summer. He doesn’t like sweating all over the lightwood floors of the dance studio, resting flat on his back, perspiration gathering on his skin and soaking into his clothes after finishing the next few minutes of their choreography. He doesn’t like having to sing lines over and over again in a recording booth while the air conditioning chugs its best to keep the heat out above him.
He hates the heat, hates summer, for a lot of reasons, but there’s probably one reason that tops the list-one reason why sometimes Yoseob either wishes the sun would implode sooner or that he could move to Greenland. Or Alaska. Or the South Pole.
“It’s too hot to have sex,” Yoseob says and tries not to die.
Beside him on the bed, Doojoon is sitting, sweating like everyone else in South Korea is during this heat wave, but unlike everyone else, Doojoon looks content and peachy keen. Yoseob could tell when Doojoon walked into the bedroom that the leader just finished playing soccer (Yoseob has no idea who with because other than Doojoon, what kind of insane people would play soccer in this weather?), cheeks flushed (Yoseob hopes Doojoon gets heat stroke) and hair matted to his forehead.
“You sure?” Doojoon says and Yoseob hates how playing soccer makes Doojoon horny and even if it does he doesn’t understand why the leader can’t just go and get himself off instead of trying to kill Yoseob.
Yoseob rolls around a bit and glowers. “What do you mean am I sure? Dongwoonie died like two hours ago and manager-hyung is actually buying ice.”
“No,” Doojoon says dryly, “I’m sure our maknae’s still alive.”
“He’s not. What you saw out there was just his ghost-a meaningless shell of his former self.” Yoseob closes his eyes and tries to imagine snowflakes on the tip of his nose, catching against his eyelashes and-
He can’t believe this.
He can’t believe that on his death bed, suffering and wasting away, Doojoon is insensitive enough to actually kiss Yoseob. He can’t believe that the leader could care less about the fact that they are all about to die from the fires of hell enveloping the earth. He can’t believe that Doojoon’s tongue is in his mouth, can’t believe that Doojoon’s hand is under his shirt, is stroking all over his skin, is unbuttoning his pants-he can’t believe-
“You know,” Doojoon says against the corner of Yoseob’s mouth, “for someone who’s too hot to do anything but die, you got hard kind of fast.”
Yoseob kisses him again-insistently, fingers gripping the leader’s hair tightly, tugging his head forward, asking wordlessly for faster-for sooner-and he tangles his legs with Doojoon’s, hips bucking up and breaths gasping. “I’ll die after you fuck me,” Yoseob says, and doesn’t even hear their manager returning with the ice packs.
Author: himawarixxsandz
Pairing: DooSeob
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Yoseob hates the heat. Doojoon has powers of persuasion.
A/N: Today the seniors graduate. Everyone else has the day off. I have no senior brothers or sisters or cousins or relatives or boyfriend, although my orchestra oppa is graduating. I'm bored. Already posted up too much crap about MBLEAST. Ate too much kabob. Am full. Tomorrow's last day of classes. Am ridiculously happy. But. Don't want to be a junior. And come closer to having to deal with Life. As an adult. Wrote this because I hate the heat even though I love summer vacation and beaches. And I felt like DooSeob. When do I ever not.
Yoseob doesn’t like the heat. He doesn’t like those summer months spent in the practice room, spent in the recording room because for some reason BEAST never ends up active during the summer. He doesn’t like sweating all over the lightwood floors of the dance studio, resting flat on his back, perspiration gathering on his skin and soaking into his clothes after finishing the next few minutes of their choreography. He doesn’t like having to sing lines over and over again in a recording booth while the air conditioning chugs its best to keep the heat out above him.
He hates the heat, hates summer, for a lot of reasons, but there’s probably one reason that tops the list-one reason why sometimes Yoseob either wishes the sun would implode sooner or that he could move to Greenland. Or Alaska. Or the South Pole.
“It’s too hot to have sex,” Yoseob says and tries not to die.
Beside him on the bed, Doojoon is sitting, sweating like everyone else in South Korea is during this heat wave, but unlike everyone else, Doojoon looks content and peachy keen. Yoseob could tell when Doojoon walked into the bedroom that the leader just finished playing soccer (Yoseob has no idea who with because other than Doojoon, what kind of insane people would play soccer in this weather?), cheeks flushed (Yoseob hopes Doojoon gets heat stroke) and hair matted to his forehead.
“You sure?” Doojoon says and Yoseob hates how playing soccer makes Doojoon horny and even if it does he doesn’t understand why the leader can’t just go and get himself off instead of trying to kill Yoseob.
Yoseob rolls around a bit and glowers. “What do you mean am I sure? Dongwoonie died like two hours ago and manager-hyung is actually buying ice.”
“No,” Doojoon says dryly, “I’m sure our maknae’s still alive.”
“He’s not. What you saw out there was just his ghost-a meaningless shell of his former self.” Yoseob closes his eyes and tries to imagine snowflakes on the tip of his nose, catching against his eyelashes and-
He can’t believe this.
He can’t believe that on his death bed, suffering and wasting away, Doojoon is insensitive enough to actually kiss Yoseob. He can’t believe that the leader could care less about the fact that they are all about to die from the fires of hell enveloping the earth. He can’t believe that Doojoon’s tongue is in his mouth, can’t believe that Doojoon’s hand is under his shirt, is stroking all over his skin, is unbuttoning his pants-he can’t believe-
“You know,” Doojoon says against the corner of Yoseob’s mouth, “for someone who’s too hot to do anything but die, you got hard kind of fast.”
Yoseob kisses him again-insistently, fingers gripping the leader’s hair tightly, tugging his head forward, asking wordlessly for faster-for sooner-and he tangles his legs with Doojoon’s, hips bucking up and breaths gasping. “I’ll die after you fuck me,” Yoseob says, and doesn’t even hear their manager returning with the ice packs.