[one-shot; yehwook]
Title: Kisses in the Dark
Author: Mica
Pairing: Yehsung/Ryeowook
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You need him like you need oxygen to breathe.
Comments: Dedicated to hoyah. My muse is still in hiding, so forgive the crappyness, & this is rather pointless.
“What are you doing?”
His voice is soft, barely even a whisper, but still it manages to send shivers racing down your spine. Your hands are on his hips, one slipped just a little underneath his shirt, fingertips revelling in the softness of his warm skin.
You don’t answer his question, your lips already occupied, pressing soft, wet kisses across his face, cheeks, forehead, jaw line and finally, mouth. You can feel him tremble a little as your mouths meet, so you kiss him softly, sweetly, not wanting to frighten him, scare him away.
You wind one of your arms around his body, pull him closer against you, and kiss the corner of his mouth; he’s still trembling. When you pull your face away to look at him, his eyes are wide and full of questions and you can see his lips shake with the need to ask them.
A slight smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. There’s just something, something about him, and you can’t help but smile.
He blinks up at you, but he doesn’t pull himself away, and you think perhaps you don’t give him enough credit sometimes.
“What are you doing?” There’s a quiver in his voice, but at least it’s louder this time; you still don’t answer him though, not with words, because you’re not entirely sure of what to say, and it’s made especially difficult with the way he’s looking at you right now.
So instead, you lean forward, close the gap between your faces, and kiss him again, harder this time, your lips working firmly over his. Your hold around him tightens and you pull him a fraction closer, sighing a little to yourself, because his lips feel so soft, so sweet, against your own.
You’re so busy thinking about him, enjoying the way his tiny body feels held close against yours, that you don’t realise for a moment that he’s actually kissing you back. It takes you by surprise, but then he’s hooking an arm around your neck, and you feel fingers threading themselves through your hair, and you feel more than hear his soft breath against your lips.
You’re more than a little surprised, actually, because you hadn’t quite expected this, not yet, but you’re not going to complain, not at all.
The kiss deepens, it’s probably you that did it, but it doesn’t really matter because his lips have parted and your tongue has already slipped between them and started to explore his mouth; it’s warm and wet and you shiver just a little as you taste him on your tongue. You’re not the only one shivering, though, you can feel his body, still trembling, pressed tightly up against yours; you don’t think he’s afraid, though, not of you, he’s never been afraid of you.
When you pull apart a few moments later - breathing is such an irritating necessity, you think - you’re both a little short of breath, and even in the dimness of the room you can see his cheeks are flushed with colour; you cup one softly in your hand.
He’s beautiful, you think to yourself - it’s a thought that crosses your mind more than once every day - so beautiful, and from the moment you first laid eyes on him you thought so, and knew you had to get to know this boy, this beautiful, shy, talented boy.
“Jongoon?” He looks up at you, a question in his soft voice.
You smile at him then, a proper smile, a full smile, because just seeing his familiar face always makes you want to smile. You don’t answer though, because you’re not sure what to tell him, or how to tell him, and it would probably sound stupid, anyway, and you don’t want to frighten him away, either, but you need him, that’s what this is, you need him, need his smile and his warmth and his trust, need his love. You need him like you need oxygen to breathe, need him to fill your lungs and keep you alive. You’re almost scared by the depth, by the height, of your emotions, your feelings towards a single other person, for him, which is why you don’t tell him, not in words, in case it scares him, too.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper back to him, not entirely sure what you mean by it, what you’re telling him not to worry about, but it doesn’t matter, because at least you said something, and it seems to have done the job, because now he’s smiling back at you, and you feel your heart flutter a little inside your chest; it always does that these days.
“Okay.” He trusts you, you can tell, he trusts you so explicitly, without question, and not for the first time you wonder if his feelings run as deep as yours.
You kiss him, again, and this time he doesn’t hesitate in kissing you back, one of his hands gripping onto your shirt, fingers curling tightly into the material. He’s trembling against you again, you pull him closer, and you know he isn’t scared, isn’t scared of you or of this or of anything, and you find yourself thinking that perhaps, perhaps, he needs you too, like you need him.
You don’t mind if he does.
- end -
Yay for writing pairings I don't ship 8D;
Author: Mica
Pairing: Yehsung/Ryeowook
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You need him like you need oxygen to breathe.
Comments: Dedicated to hoyah. My muse is still in hiding, so forgive the crappyness, & this is rather pointless.
“What are you doing?”
His voice is soft, barely even a whisper, but still it manages to send shivers racing down your spine. Your hands are on his hips, one slipped just a little underneath his shirt, fingertips revelling in the softness of his warm skin.
You don’t answer his question, your lips already occupied, pressing soft, wet kisses across his face, cheeks, forehead, jaw line and finally, mouth. You can feel him tremble a little as your mouths meet, so you kiss him softly, sweetly, not wanting to frighten him, scare him away.
You wind one of your arms around his body, pull him closer against you, and kiss the corner of his mouth; he’s still trembling. When you pull your face away to look at him, his eyes are wide and full of questions and you can see his lips shake with the need to ask them.
A slight smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. There’s just something, something about him, and you can’t help but smile.
He blinks up at you, but he doesn’t pull himself away, and you think perhaps you don’t give him enough credit sometimes.
“What are you doing?” There’s a quiver in his voice, but at least it’s louder this time; you still don’t answer him though, not with words, because you’re not entirely sure of what to say, and it’s made especially difficult with the way he’s looking at you right now.
So instead, you lean forward, close the gap between your faces, and kiss him again, harder this time, your lips working firmly over his. Your hold around him tightens and you pull him a fraction closer, sighing a little to yourself, because his lips feel so soft, so sweet, against your own.
You’re so busy thinking about him, enjoying the way his tiny body feels held close against yours, that you don’t realise for a moment that he’s actually kissing you back. It takes you by surprise, but then he’s hooking an arm around your neck, and you feel fingers threading themselves through your hair, and you feel more than hear his soft breath against your lips.
You’re more than a little surprised, actually, because you hadn’t quite expected this, not yet, but you’re not going to complain, not at all.
The kiss deepens, it’s probably you that did it, but it doesn’t really matter because his lips have parted and your tongue has already slipped between them and started to explore his mouth; it’s warm and wet and you shiver just a little as you taste him on your tongue. You’re not the only one shivering, though, you can feel his body, still trembling, pressed tightly up against yours; you don’t think he’s afraid, though, not of you, he’s never been afraid of you.
When you pull apart a few moments later - breathing is such an irritating necessity, you think - you’re both a little short of breath, and even in the dimness of the room you can see his cheeks are flushed with colour; you cup one softly in your hand.
He’s beautiful, you think to yourself - it’s a thought that crosses your mind more than once every day - so beautiful, and from the moment you first laid eyes on him you thought so, and knew you had to get to know this boy, this beautiful, shy, talented boy.
“Jongoon?” He looks up at you, a question in his soft voice.
You smile at him then, a proper smile, a full smile, because just seeing his familiar face always makes you want to smile. You don’t answer though, because you’re not sure what to tell him, or how to tell him, and it would probably sound stupid, anyway, and you don’t want to frighten him away, either, but you need him, that’s what this is, you need him, need his smile and his warmth and his trust, need his love. You need him like you need oxygen to breathe, need him to fill your lungs and keep you alive. You’re almost scared by the depth, by the height, of your emotions, your feelings towards a single other person, for him, which is why you don’t tell him, not in words, in case it scares him, too.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper back to him, not entirely sure what you mean by it, what you’re telling him not to worry about, but it doesn’t matter, because at least you said something, and it seems to have done the job, because now he’s smiling back at you, and you feel your heart flutter a little inside your chest; it always does that these days.
“Okay.” He trusts you, you can tell, he trusts you so explicitly, without question, and not for the first time you wonder if his feelings run as deep as yours.
You kiss him, again, and this time he doesn’t hesitate in kissing you back, one of his hands gripping onto your shirt, fingers curling tightly into the material. He’s trembling against you again, you pull him closer, and you know he isn’t scared, isn’t scared of you or of this or of anything, and you find yourself thinking that perhaps, perhaps, he needs you too, like you need him.
You don’t mind if he does.
- end -
Yay for writing pairings I don't ship 8D;