written for MBLAQ fic meme
Who I want: Joon/Mir
What I want: Stripper!Joon and Bartender!Mir. Shameless flirtingand smexing? Would love to see top!Mir but either way's fine :)
Preferred Rating: ...NC-17?8D
x-posted from MBLAQ fic meme
Changsun, stage name Honey Abs Joon, strolled up to the bar during the lull between the happy hour crowd and the bar-hopping party crowd. He’d heard talk about the new guy, looked barely legal according to the other guys. Fresh and young and pretty and just waiting to be dirtied up and violated. The suggestions ranged from collars (inspired in part by the one circling his pretty neck, claimed one guy) to cat-o-nine tails to threesomes, foursomes and more-somes.
Leaning his elbows on the bar, he studied the back of the new guy. Nice tight ass showcased pleasingly in the requisite uniform black slacks. Slender but toned arms flexing and causing the shoulders and back of the gold lame vest to wink and sparkle in the bar lights. His hair, obviously dyed, glowed red, giving the illusion of a devilish halo flickering around his head. Joon found himself wanting to pet that red hair. And tap that tight ass, of course.
Then he turned around.
The face didn’t belong in a strip club. Not a seedy one. Not a high dollar one. It belonged in the fresh air and wholesomeness of the countryside. The black collar with the small silver spikes seemed incongruous, like Groucho Marx glasses on the Venus di Milo. The supple chest displayed more than hidden by the black wife beater under the vest didn’t detract from the impression of youthful innocence.
Joon understood, for the first time, the temptation of virgins, innocents, the untried. This man-boy epitomized everything wholesome and pure and Joon wanted nothing more than to taint it.
“Hey, new kid. Gotta name?”
He set some glasses into a rack and smiled. “Of course.”
After an expectant pause, Joon asked, “What is it?”
“Which one do you want?” The kid wiped the counter with a damp rag, barely sparing Joon a glance.
“Your real name, preferably.”
He hummed thoughtfully while continuing to clean the already spotless bar. “What do I get if I give you my real name?”
Joon considered the new guy might be flirting, might even be hitting on him but dismissed it. Too innocent. “Whatever you want.” He leered at the crop of wavy red hair since the boy wouldn’t look up.
After a moment of silence, the kid glanced up and smiled. Joon wondered if the sun was really necessary with this kid around. “Dance for me. Tonight. While you are up onstage, dedicate the song and every-“ he reached out to stroke a finger down Joon’s cheek, “-single move-“ the finger slid over Joon’s partly opened lips, “to me.”
Dropping his hand, the kid said, “Oh. My name is Chulyong. But all my lovers call me Mir.” He swiped the dishcloth into Joon’s elbows, knocking them out from under him. His innocent face moved in close to Joon’s shocked one. “You are more than welcome to call me Mir.”
Joon stared after Mir in disbelief. And a haze of lustful hopes and fantasies.
Later that night, Mir tended the bar with an ease of experience belying the youthfulness of his features. He also kept an eye out for Joon’s performance. The man was all too cocky and sexy. Too damn bad Mir had a long standing weakness for cocky and sexy men.
When Honey Abs Joon was announced, the crowd, such as it was, cheered. Mir wondered who the hell came up with some of the names. Expecting something obviously risqué or sexy, Mir felt his eyebrows creeping up his forehead at the sounds of 9095 by Tohoshinki drifting through the room.
Abdicating the bar to the head bartender, Mir decided to take his break and slid between tables to lean against a wall for a better view. Joon slithered and gyrated and slowly shed every piece of clothing. Drool pooled in the back of Mir’s mouth as he realized “Honey Abs” was not an inaccurate description. He swallowed on the thought of them tasting anything like honey.
Then Joon rotated his hips, lifted his arms above his head, and caused every muscle in his back to flex. Caused numerous men and women in the audience to moan silently in lust. Studying sinew under slick skin and the flex and release of a firm buttocks, Mir decided that ass is mine.
They met at the backstage door and took a bus to Mir’s place. They didn’t rate strange looks because both were clad in innocuous jeans and sweaters. Compared to a guy with green dreads and a girl with more piercing than the average pincushion, even Mir’s collar didn’t stand out.
They didn’t hold hands. Didn’t talk. Once inside Mir’s apartment, small but relatively neat for a single guy, Mir grabbed Joon by the hair and shoved him against the wall. Before the older man realized what was going on, Mir had his tongue in a duel and was steadily divesting both of them of their clothing. Where Joon had expected nervousness and maybe even shyness, he got passion and aggression.
Not bothering to try for the bedroom, despite it being steps away, they sank fingertips into each other’s hair, backs, and asses. Tongues wrestled as lips meshed before sliding apart to rain bites and kisses over jawbones and necks. When Mir’s fingers breached Joon’s pucker, Joon sucked in a shocked and pained gasp but Mir didn’t let up. He slipped those two fingers in a little further and murmured encouragingly as Joon relaxed into the sensation. Joon found himself naked against a wall riding the smaller man’s fingers like he’d always done so. The pain had quickly subsided into a pleasurable burn that made his dick harder than it had ever been.
He found he wasn’t surprised when the smaller man slid his fingers out and spun Joon to face the wall. “Brace yourself” was all the warning Joon got before Mir slammed his magically -so it seemed to Joon- lubed dick into his ass. There was pain so intense he cried out and nearly fell to his knees. Mir stopped, briefly, to let Joon adjust.
The pain eased and Joon found he wanted to move, wanted to ride Mir’s dick just like he’d ridden his fingers. “Fuck. Fuck me.” The demand was more of a breathless plea but worked just the same.
Mir began to move, sliding in and out of Joon at a pace fast enough to make him breathless but too slow to allow him to come. Licking up Joon’s spine, Mir murmured naughty things about how tight and hot Joon’s ass was and how he couldn’t wait to a riding crop on it just to see it turn red. He told Joon all about how he’d fuck his mouth and come on his face.
“Jack off for me. I want you to come all over your hand while I’m fucking you.” Mir pounded into him as Joon shifted so he could grip his dick.
Between his hand and Mir’s dick stretching him, Joon groaned, arched, and came. His inner walls tightened brutally around Mir and wrung every last drop of come from him possible.
They collapsed inelegantly to the floor.
What I want: Stripper!Joon and Bartender!Mir. Shameless flirtingand smexing? Would love to see top!Mir but either way's fine :)
Preferred Rating: ...NC-17?8D
x-posted from MBLAQ fic meme
Changsun, stage name Honey Abs Joon, strolled up to the bar during the lull between the happy hour crowd and the bar-hopping party crowd. He’d heard talk about the new guy, looked barely legal according to the other guys. Fresh and young and pretty and just waiting to be dirtied up and violated. The suggestions ranged from collars (inspired in part by the one circling his pretty neck, claimed one guy) to cat-o-nine tails to threesomes, foursomes and more-somes.
Leaning his elbows on the bar, he studied the back of the new guy. Nice tight ass showcased pleasingly in the requisite uniform black slacks. Slender but toned arms flexing and causing the shoulders and back of the gold lame vest to wink and sparkle in the bar lights. His hair, obviously dyed, glowed red, giving the illusion of a devilish halo flickering around his head. Joon found himself wanting to pet that red hair. And tap that tight ass, of course.
Then he turned around.
The face didn’t belong in a strip club. Not a seedy one. Not a high dollar one. It belonged in the fresh air and wholesomeness of the countryside. The black collar with the small silver spikes seemed incongruous, like Groucho Marx glasses on the Venus di Milo. The supple chest displayed more than hidden by the black wife beater under the vest didn’t detract from the impression of youthful innocence.
Joon understood, for the first time, the temptation of virgins, innocents, the untried. This man-boy epitomized everything wholesome and pure and Joon wanted nothing more than to taint it.
“Hey, new kid. Gotta name?”
He set some glasses into a rack and smiled. “Of course.”
After an expectant pause, Joon asked, “What is it?”
“Which one do you want?” The kid wiped the counter with a damp rag, barely sparing Joon a glance.
“Your real name, preferably.”
He hummed thoughtfully while continuing to clean the already spotless bar. “What do I get if I give you my real name?”
Joon considered the new guy might be flirting, might even be hitting on him but dismissed it. Too innocent. “Whatever you want.” He leered at the crop of wavy red hair since the boy wouldn’t look up.
After a moment of silence, the kid glanced up and smiled. Joon wondered if the sun was really necessary with this kid around. “Dance for me. Tonight. While you are up onstage, dedicate the song and every-“ he reached out to stroke a finger down Joon’s cheek, “-single move-“ the finger slid over Joon’s partly opened lips, “to me.”
Dropping his hand, the kid said, “Oh. My name is Chulyong. But all my lovers call me Mir.” He swiped the dishcloth into Joon’s elbows, knocking them out from under him. His innocent face moved in close to Joon’s shocked one. “You are more than welcome to call me Mir.”
Joon stared after Mir in disbelief. And a haze of lustful hopes and fantasies.
Later that night, Mir tended the bar with an ease of experience belying the youthfulness of his features. He also kept an eye out for Joon’s performance. The man was all too cocky and sexy. Too damn bad Mir had a long standing weakness for cocky and sexy men.
When Honey Abs Joon was announced, the crowd, such as it was, cheered. Mir wondered who the hell came up with some of the names. Expecting something obviously risqué or sexy, Mir felt his eyebrows creeping up his forehead at the sounds of 9095 by Tohoshinki drifting through the room.
Abdicating the bar to the head bartender, Mir decided to take his break and slid between tables to lean against a wall for a better view. Joon slithered and gyrated and slowly shed every piece of clothing. Drool pooled in the back of Mir’s mouth as he realized “Honey Abs” was not an inaccurate description. He swallowed on the thought of them tasting anything like honey.
Then Joon rotated his hips, lifted his arms above his head, and caused every muscle in his back to flex. Caused numerous men and women in the audience to moan silently in lust. Studying sinew under slick skin and the flex and release of a firm buttocks, Mir decided that ass is mine.
They met at the backstage door and took a bus to Mir’s place. They didn’t rate strange looks because both were clad in innocuous jeans and sweaters. Compared to a guy with green dreads and a girl with more piercing than the average pincushion, even Mir’s collar didn’t stand out.
They didn’t hold hands. Didn’t talk. Once inside Mir’s apartment, small but relatively neat for a single guy, Mir grabbed Joon by the hair and shoved him against the wall. Before the older man realized what was going on, Mir had his tongue in a duel and was steadily divesting both of them of their clothing. Where Joon had expected nervousness and maybe even shyness, he got passion and aggression.
Not bothering to try for the bedroom, despite it being steps away, they sank fingertips into each other’s hair, backs, and asses. Tongues wrestled as lips meshed before sliding apart to rain bites and kisses over jawbones and necks. When Mir’s fingers breached Joon’s pucker, Joon sucked in a shocked and pained gasp but Mir didn’t let up. He slipped those two fingers in a little further and murmured encouragingly as Joon relaxed into the sensation. Joon found himself naked against a wall riding the smaller man’s fingers like he’d always done so. The pain had quickly subsided into a pleasurable burn that made his dick harder than it had ever been.
He found he wasn’t surprised when the smaller man slid his fingers out and spun Joon to face the wall. “Brace yourself” was all the warning Joon got before Mir slammed his magically -so it seemed to Joon- lubed dick into his ass. There was pain so intense he cried out and nearly fell to his knees. Mir stopped, briefly, to let Joon adjust.
The pain eased and Joon found he wanted to move, wanted to ride Mir’s dick just like he’d ridden his fingers. “Fuck. Fuck me.” The demand was more of a breathless plea but worked just the same.
Mir began to move, sliding in and out of Joon at a pace fast enough to make him breathless but too slow to allow him to come. Licking up Joon’s spine, Mir murmured naughty things about how tight and hot Joon’s ass was and how he couldn’t wait to a riding crop on it just to see it turn red. He told Joon all about how he’d fuck his mouth and come on his face.
“Jack off for me. I want you to come all over your hand while I’m fucking you.” Mir pounded into him as Joon shifted so he could grip his dick.
Between his hand and Mir’s dick stretching him, Joon groaned, arched, and came. His inner walls tightened brutally around Mir and wrung every last drop of come from him possible.
They collapsed inelegantly to the floor.