Skyscraper
Music
Skyscraper
It was dark and cold in the hallway as the blonde moved past the broken down elevator and to the stairs. Every step he took was heavy, tired, weighed down; echoing with the black boots he wore.
The blonde walked slowly up the stairs, trudging up step by step. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes brushed, but the line of his mouth was hard and unbroken.
His fingers were callused and his palms rough with work as he turned his key in the lock and entered his apartment. Dropping the keys on the kitchen counter, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
It was flashing, but he ignored it, tossing it next to his keys as he walked past the kitchen and towards the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he walked straight to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Jonghyun?”
The blonde turned in surprise to see his friend-roommate-lover-maker-destroyer-everything standing against the bathroom. The older man approached him slowly, one step at a time, watching him breathe.
When the older man’s palm reached up and cupped his face, the blonde finally broke down. His tears stained the older man’s fingers as his lips trembled.
The older man moved closer, wrapping his arms around the blonde. The blonde tucked his face into the other man’s neck and breathed heavily, drowning himself in the man’s skin.
“Hush baby.”
He shook with the comforting touch of the man’s voice and hands. All of his resolve broke into shreds and he gripped the older man tightly.
“Jinki,” he pleaded finally, his voice breaking and cracking. “Jinki, I-I…”
The older man pulled his hands up and forced the blonde to look at him. The blonde’s eyes were filled with tears, his cheeks stained and lips bruised.
With one swipe of his thumb, he wiped a tear away from the blonde’s lips before leaning in and pressing his own to them. The blonde shuddered for a moment before pressing back, desperately, needy, shattered.
Without any true plan, they moved out of the bathroom and the blonde found flat himself on the older man’s bed. The older man hovered over him, cautiously, expectantly, hopefully.
“Make me remember,” the blonde begged, reaching up to grab the older man’s wrist. “Make me remember who I am, what I am, why I’m here,” he pleaded.
The older man settled himself over the blonde and first used his fingers to trace the blonde’s features, trailing down from his forehead, over his cheeks, down his neck. The blonde closed his eyes and shuddered with every touch.
“No, Jonghyun. Open your eyes,” the older man demanded, stopping his hands. The blonde reluctantly opened his eyes and the older man gifted him with a warm kiss on the forehead.
Without taking his lips off the blonde’s skin, the older man traced the path of his fingers down the blonde’s face before ending at his lips. This time, he kissed him harder and deeper, trying to imprint himself on the blonde’s lips, mouth, soul.
With one hand, the older man began to undress the blonde, reaching for his jacket, for his shirt, his pants. The blonde sighed with need and reached up to help the older man remove his own clothing.
With most of the barriers gone, the blonde pressed himself harder against the older man, clutching at him tightly. The older man responded with kisses over his neck, shoulders, and chest, sucking hard to leave his mark on the blonde.
The older man’s hands slipped down the blonde’s chest, but his fingers came to a slow stop over the blonde’s last defense, waiting, hoping, praying. The blonde lifted his hips, keening in his throat, pressing himself against the older man.
The blonde bit back a gasp as he felt the older man press in, his flesh burning at the touch, his body shaking. The older man pressed kisses into his hair, neck, cheeks and he groaned, relaxing as he let himself slide back.
“This is who you are,” the older man began. “You are the person I love.”
The blonde gasped as the older man shifted and pressed harder. He arched his back and tightened his hold on the older man’s shoulders, his finger digging into the muscles.
He reached up and kissed the older man again, wanting to taste the words in the man’s mouth. The older man pulled him closer and then swiftly rolled onto his back, forcing the blonde in the dominant position.
“This is what you are,” he declared. “You are my inspiration, my desire, my heart.”
The blonde gasped as he felt himself coil tighter and tighter. The older man grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers, making the blonde look at him searchingly.
The heat between them grew and the blonde threw his head back, panting as he felt himself being remade. The older man’s hands on his hips helped him break himself apart, destroying every last doubt in his heart, in his mind.
The blonde keened as he felt himself coil and bend and break and be reborn in the older man’s embrace. As they finally came back down, the older man reached up and cupped the blonde’s cheek again.
“And this is where you belong,” he whispered. “With me.”
The blonde nodded and smiled as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against the older man’s. He lingered in the touch, letting the last of tears sink down his face as he let the older man rub his back soothingly.
“Say it again,” the blonde begged.
The older man chuckled, reaching to press a short kiss against the blonde’s lips. The blonde keened in frustration as the older man teasingly pulled back.
“You belong with me,” he whispered.
The older man rolled them back over so the blonde was flat on his back and pressed another kiss to the blonde’s lips. “You are my heart. You are the one I love.”
Finally, the blonde laughed.
“I love you Jinki,” he whispered.
-FIN-
(A/N): Honestly, this just started with the thought that I needed some Jongyu. How it became so angsty? Well I have been listening to the song on repeat.
In all actuality, I was supposed to studying for diagnostic microbiology exam on Friday. But I needed to just write, just to put something down and push out of myself. So this is really a stress relief piece and my little apology for being so busy that I haven't worked on Hunters at all. Again, this is a piece out of character for me, being that it's a pwp. I also tried to challenge myself by keeping a certain style and word limit.
So let me know how you felt about this one!
Notes on the text:
1. Exactly 1000 words.
2. Written in two hours.
Skyscraper
It was dark and cold in the hallway as the blonde moved past the broken down elevator and to the stairs. Every step he took was heavy, tired, weighed down; echoing with the black boots he wore.
The blonde walked slowly up the stairs, trudging up step by step. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes brushed, but the line of his mouth was hard and unbroken.
His fingers were callused and his palms rough with work as he turned his key in the lock and entered his apartment. Dropping the keys on the kitchen counter, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
It was flashing, but he ignored it, tossing it next to his keys as he walked past the kitchen and towards the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he walked straight to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Jonghyun?”
The blonde turned in surprise to see his friend-roommate-lover-maker-destroyer-everything standing against the bathroom. The older man approached him slowly, one step at a time, watching him breathe.
When the older man’s palm reached up and cupped his face, the blonde finally broke down. His tears stained the older man’s fingers as his lips trembled.
The older man moved closer, wrapping his arms around the blonde. The blonde tucked his face into the other man’s neck and breathed heavily, drowning himself in the man’s skin.
“Hush baby.”
He shook with the comforting touch of the man’s voice and hands. All of his resolve broke into shreds and he gripped the older man tightly.
“Jinki,” he pleaded finally, his voice breaking and cracking. “Jinki, I-I…”
The older man pulled his hands up and forced the blonde to look at him. The blonde’s eyes were filled with tears, his cheeks stained and lips bruised.
With one swipe of his thumb, he wiped a tear away from the blonde’s lips before leaning in and pressing his own to them. The blonde shuddered for a moment before pressing back, desperately, needy, shattered.
Without any true plan, they moved out of the bathroom and the blonde found flat himself on the older man’s bed. The older man hovered over him, cautiously, expectantly, hopefully.
“Make me remember,” the blonde begged, reaching up to grab the older man’s wrist. “Make me remember who I am, what I am, why I’m here,” he pleaded.
The older man settled himself over the blonde and first used his fingers to trace the blonde’s features, trailing down from his forehead, over his cheeks, down his neck. The blonde closed his eyes and shuddered with every touch.
“No, Jonghyun. Open your eyes,” the older man demanded, stopping his hands. The blonde reluctantly opened his eyes and the older man gifted him with a warm kiss on the forehead.
Without taking his lips off the blonde’s skin, the older man traced the path of his fingers down the blonde’s face before ending at his lips. This time, he kissed him harder and deeper, trying to imprint himself on the blonde’s lips, mouth, soul.
With one hand, the older man began to undress the blonde, reaching for his jacket, for his shirt, his pants. The blonde sighed with need and reached up to help the older man remove his own clothing.
With most of the barriers gone, the blonde pressed himself harder against the older man, clutching at him tightly. The older man responded with kisses over his neck, shoulders, and chest, sucking hard to leave his mark on the blonde.
The older man’s hands slipped down the blonde’s chest, but his fingers came to a slow stop over the blonde’s last defense, waiting, hoping, praying. The blonde lifted his hips, keening in his throat, pressing himself against the older man.
The blonde bit back a gasp as he felt the older man press in, his flesh burning at the touch, his body shaking. The older man pressed kisses into his hair, neck, cheeks and he groaned, relaxing as he let himself slide back.
“This is who you are,” the older man began. “You are the person I love.”
The blonde gasped as the older man shifted and pressed harder. He arched his back and tightened his hold on the older man’s shoulders, his finger digging into the muscles.
He reached up and kissed the older man again, wanting to taste the words in the man’s mouth. The older man pulled him closer and then swiftly rolled onto his back, forcing the blonde in the dominant position.
“This is what you are,” he declared. “You are my inspiration, my desire, my heart.”
The blonde gasped as he felt himself coil tighter and tighter. The older man grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers, making the blonde look at him searchingly.
The heat between them grew and the blonde threw his head back, panting as he felt himself being remade. The older man’s hands on his hips helped him break himself apart, destroying every last doubt in his heart, in his mind.
The blonde keened as he felt himself coil and bend and break and be reborn in the older man’s embrace. As they finally came back down, the older man reached up and cupped the blonde’s cheek again.
“And this is where you belong,” he whispered. “With me.”
The blonde nodded and smiled as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against the older man’s. He lingered in the touch, letting the last of tears sink down his face as he let the older man rub his back soothingly.
“Say it again,” the blonde begged.
The older man chuckled, reaching to press a short kiss against the blonde’s lips. The blonde keened in frustration as the older man teasingly pulled back.
“You belong with me,” he whispered.
The older man rolled them back over so the blonde was flat on his back and pressed another kiss to the blonde’s lips. “You are my heart. You are the one I love.”
Finally, the blonde laughed.
“I love you Jinki,” he whispered.
-FIN-
(A/N): Honestly, this just started with the thought that I needed some Jongyu. How it became so angsty? Well I have been listening to the song on repeat.
In all actuality, I was supposed to studying for diagnostic microbiology exam on Friday. But I needed to just write, just to put something down and push out of myself. So this is really a stress relief piece and my little apology for being so busy that I haven't worked on Hunters at all. Again, this is a piece out of character for me, being that it's a pwp. I also tried to challenge myself by keeping a certain style and word limit.
So let me know how you felt about this one!
Notes on the text:
1. Exactly 1000 words.
2. Written in two hours.