Blink ; Yoochun/Changmin
It's been a while since my last post, so I decided to write something before I become rusty.
Title: Blink
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): Yoochun/Changmin
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
Yoochun thinks he's seen this stranger somewhere before, which makes him a stranger-who's-not-a-stranger. This stranger-who's-not-a-stranger has a name, and he tells Yoochun that his name is Changmin, he's twenty years old and Yoochun thinks oh, yes.
Changmin has a smile like electricity, like spikes on a heart rate monitor, the odd angles of growing up too fast and the last showers of fireworks. Changmin rubs the lip of his glass with his thumb nervously, watching Yoochun warily from below hooded eyes. Yoochun gestures to the man behind the bar and announces that he's paying for Changmin's drink.
Changmin stares at him, surprised, distant. Yoochun wants to take his hand, lead him onto the dance floor, and fit his hands to those hips, close up all the spaces between them. Instead, he smiles and says my name is Yoochun.
Forty six minutes later, Yoochun is standing outside the door of his house, one hand rooting around for his keys in his pocket and the other holding the back of Changmin's head as they kiss, heads buzzing pleasantly with alcohol.
"I don't usually go home with people I've just met," Changmin says. "I'm not like that-"
"Shut up," Yoochun says, nearly tripping as he unlocks the door and pushes Changmin in. Changmin exhales with a shudder and there's a flurry of movement as layers of clothes are shed like skin and protective armour. The moonlight that streams in from the open window dyes the bedroom a soft shade of yellow, and they stumble in, kicking off socks and pants, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they wrestle each other onto the bed.
Yoochun kisses the ladders of Changmin's ribs, and runs his tongue along the steps of Changmin's spine. He listens to Changmin hiss between clenched teeth, feeling his skin turn hot wherever they touch. Changmin is the first person Yoochun has slept with right after meeting each other, but he's the first person that makes Yoochun feel like he's being robbed of his heart.
He falls asleep next to Changmin, thinking that Changmin looks almost like he belongs in this bed, like he's been sleeping here all his life, like he's always been a part of Yoochun's life and Yoochun just never noticed.
When he wakes up, Changmin is still asleep, his weight rested on Yoochun's right arm, a hand tucked under the pillow. Yoochun runs the pads of his finger across the strong line of Changmin's jaw, holding his breath. Changmin stirs, and sighs. Yoochun is reminded of blowing dandelion seeds and watching them disperse in the wind when Changmin's eyes flutter open sleepily.
Changmin sees the time and swears, rolling out of bed, gathering his clothes in a mad frenzy. He trips over apologies, thank you's, pausing just to scribble his number on a piece of paper while holding his pants up. He lets himself out of the front door, a hurricane that came and went in the blink of an eye, leaving Yoochun's emotions in a mess in the aftermath of his arrival.
Yoochun rolls over to the other side of the bed where Changmin's warmth lingers like the dull throb of a headache from last night's drinking. He picks up the slip of paper from the bedside table and stares at the hastily scribbled numbers, committing them to memory.
Kind of short, but hopefully it'll get me back on track with writing :D
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE
Title: Blink
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): Yoochun/Changmin
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
Yoochun thinks he's seen this stranger somewhere before, which makes him a stranger-who's-not-a-stranger. This stranger-who's-not-a-stranger has a name, and he tells Yoochun that his name is Changmin, he's twenty years old and Yoochun thinks oh, yes.
Changmin has a smile like electricity, like spikes on a heart rate monitor, the odd angles of growing up too fast and the last showers of fireworks. Changmin rubs the lip of his glass with his thumb nervously, watching Yoochun warily from below hooded eyes. Yoochun gestures to the man behind the bar and announces that he's paying for Changmin's drink.
Changmin stares at him, surprised, distant. Yoochun wants to take his hand, lead him onto the dance floor, and fit his hands to those hips, close up all the spaces between them. Instead, he smiles and says my name is Yoochun.
Forty six minutes later, Yoochun is standing outside the door of his house, one hand rooting around for his keys in his pocket and the other holding the back of Changmin's head as they kiss, heads buzzing pleasantly with alcohol.
"I don't usually go home with people I've just met," Changmin says. "I'm not like that-"
"Shut up," Yoochun says, nearly tripping as he unlocks the door and pushes Changmin in. Changmin exhales with a shudder and there's a flurry of movement as layers of clothes are shed like skin and protective armour. The moonlight that streams in from the open window dyes the bedroom a soft shade of yellow, and they stumble in, kicking off socks and pants, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they wrestle each other onto the bed.
Yoochun kisses the ladders of Changmin's ribs, and runs his tongue along the steps of Changmin's spine. He listens to Changmin hiss between clenched teeth, feeling his skin turn hot wherever they touch. Changmin is the first person Yoochun has slept with right after meeting each other, but he's the first person that makes Yoochun feel like he's being robbed of his heart.
He falls asleep next to Changmin, thinking that Changmin looks almost like he belongs in this bed, like he's been sleeping here all his life, like he's always been a part of Yoochun's life and Yoochun just never noticed.
When he wakes up, Changmin is still asleep, his weight rested on Yoochun's right arm, a hand tucked under the pillow. Yoochun runs the pads of his finger across the strong line of Changmin's jaw, holding his breath. Changmin stirs, and sighs. Yoochun is reminded of blowing dandelion seeds and watching them disperse in the wind when Changmin's eyes flutter open sleepily.
Changmin sees the time and swears, rolling out of bed, gathering his clothes in a mad frenzy. He trips over apologies, thank you's, pausing just to scribble his number on a piece of paper while holding his pants up. He lets himself out of the front door, a hurricane that came and went in the blink of an eye, leaving Yoochun's emotions in a mess in the aftermath of his arrival.
Yoochun rolls over to the other side of the bed where Changmin's warmth lingers like the dull throb of a headache from last night's drinking. He picks up the slip of paper from the bedside table and stares at the hastily scribbled numbers, committing them to memory.
Kind of short, but hopefully it'll get me back on track with writing :D
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE