Melina's HanChul X3
Untitled
Pairing: HanChul
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Notes: This is gamia's request-from-forevers-ago-turned-belated-birthday-fic XD And I'm sad to say it's not my best, by far D: I haven't wrote smut in sooo long *--* I clearly need practice! But anyways, this way for rusty smut and attempted breathplay X3
Hankyung was sick and tired of that stupid shirt. The deep-burgundy velvet looked too good on Heechul’s milky skin and Hankyung was getting fed up with cold showers. It simply wasn’t fair, he sulked, that Heechul should be able to flounce around in the nearly backless top. And it was doubly unfair that he wore it practically every day since it was his “absolute favourite shirt!” (Hankyung had sneaking suspicion Heechul only wore it so often because he knew what his exposed back looked like with every shift and twist.)
About a week into this “ridiculousness”, as Leeteuk called it, Hankyung made up his mind to stop avoiding the problem. He was debating over whether he should approach Heechul about it, or just wait for him to surface out of his room when the man in question hummed his way into the living room. He kept his eyes on the elder, thinking of how to go about things. Heechul flitted about, tidying things up but Hankyung couldn’t see anything aside from Heechul’s back as he picked up and moved things, his prominent shoulder blades and slender back muscles shifting in a hypnotic way.
Heechul turned towards Hankyung to organize the other half of the coffee table and the Chinaman got a good look of his jeans, or lack thereof. He was wearing skin-tight, black skinny jeans that had horizontal rips all the way up the thighs and with a few on the calves. The higher the rip, the wider it seemed, flashing even paler, creamier skin that Hankyung could just imagine under his fingers. He noticed they went high enough to prove Heechul wasn’t wearing boxers and Hankyung knew the other well enough to know that it meant he was either wearing honest-to-God panties or nothing at all. Hankyung was fine with whichever, really. About that time Heechul stretched in front of him (when the hell did he get so close?) and Hankyung caught a glimpse of his thong- it was only natural he moan aloud, and so he did.
He smacked a hand over his mouth, praying Heechul hadn’t heard. Sure, he wanted to face the issue, but he’d rather it not be confronted so embarrassingly. A glance up at the other’s face told him he was busted. Heechul was sporting a shit-eating grin and it infuriated Hankyung for a second until he offered to help. Hankyung frowned lightly in confusion and looked down at Heechul’s gesture to do so, only to realize he was beyond half-way hard already. Embarrassment colored his face and he started stuttering out excuses, berating himself mentally for not keeping to his resolution.
Heechul leaned forward, his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Hankyung’s head and repeated his offer to help in a low voice. Hankyung paused for a fraction of a second before growling out, “The fuck you can,” and gripping the back of Heechul’s neck to crash their mouths together. Heechul mewled into the kiss, obviously getting the reaction he had been wanting.
Hankyung pulled the petite man into his lap and Heechul melted against him instantly. Heechul’s mouth was open before he even asked and Hankyung all but jumped at the chance to swirl his tongue in the other’s mouth, picking up the taste of Cheerios and something entirely Heechul. The Korean sucked on the foreign tongue with the occasional pause to massage it with his own. Hankyung moaned low in his throat, his hands tightening low on Heechul’s hips, and Heechul bucked in his grip at the sound.
Oxygen became an issue and they pulled away with a smack and Heechul’s lips tingled still from the intensity of the kiss but he wasted no time in lapping at the curves and dips in Hankyung’s neck like a kitten with milk, raking his teeth against just the right places every so often just to hear the man below him moan. He felt hands working at his jeans and stepped back to help, pushing and wiggling until they were discarded of half way across the room. Heechul couldn’t hold back the smirk as Hankyung eyed him up and down.
Hankyung took in the view of the other as he straddled his knees, still standing, and decided for Christmas he was buying Heechul more thongs. He was mesmorized at the curve of his arousal against the pink fabric, the drooling head threatening to slip out. “Hankyu~ung!” Heechul’s whine snapped him out of his trance of sorts just in time to see the vision of his daydreams thrust in his face. “Don’t just look-do something!”
Heechul didn’t have to ask twice and gripped his shirt in one hand and Hankyung’s hair in the other when the Chinese man started mouthing his cock through the cotton of his underwear. He bit his lip to hold back as much noise as he could in an attempt to keep curious people out of the living room. One of Hankyung’s hands left his hips and he fought to open his eyes that he didn’t remember closing. Heechul watched as Hankyung tugged Heechul’s underwear down his thighs before almost immediately taking the head of his erection into his mouth and sucking lightly.
The teasing touches were driving Heechul crazy but he recognized them as Hankyung’s game to get him to beg, and he wasn’t going to give in this time. He locked his jaw against the pleasure when Hankyung finally took him whole and refused to give the younger man the sounds he was looking for. It didn’t take long for Hankyung to start humming and Heechul began rethinking his decision to hold back. The vibrations reverberated deliciously up his spine and then back down again, a spread of pleasured goosebumps in their wake.
Hankyung understand fairly easily what Heechul was trying to do and he was fairly confident he could break him; he always did. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he fought his gag reflex and slid his mouth down Heechul until he could feel the head of his cock bump the back of his throat. He didn’t miss the choked sound Heechul made and tightened his grip on the pale hips before swallowing around him, his throat muscles milking the other’s cock rhythmically.
A loud moan tore from Heechul’s throat followed by an equally loud curse and Hankyung pulled back, having got what he was looking for. “The fuck, Hankyung!” Heechul gasped and attempted to glare at him though his mind was still too hazy for it to be anything threatening. Hankyung ignored him, instead simply tugging the velvet shirt off and promptly ripping a sleeve off. The Korean stared at him, flabbergasted. Part of Heechul was somewhat amazed at how easily the other tore the fabric while the rest of him was furious over his shirt’s demise.
Before he could protest, Hankyung was calmly tying the sleeve around his eyes like a blindfold, the elasticity and length making it reach all the way easily. Heechul shouted and made to take it off, but Hankyung grabbed his wrists firmly in one hand and lifted his hands above his head, placing open-mouthed kisses along Heechul’s collarbone until he felt the elder relax and accept the blindfold. “Turn around and kneel against the couch,” he instructed, guiding Heechul by the waist as he stood up himself, standing behind the other man.
Hankyung rolled the rest of the shirt up so that it almost resembled a rope and tied an end securely around Heechul’s neck, wrapping the other end around his hand. He gave an experimental tug and groaned quietly at the way Heechul’s breath caught, the choking sound blending off into a moan when Hankyung let off the pressure. He rid himself of his sweat pants and boxers the best he could with one hand, not even bothering with his tank top.
Leaning forward he pushed his fingers against Heechul’s lips and ordered directly into his ear for him to suck. Heechul obediently took the digits into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tips and sucking hard. Hankyung rolled his hips into the cleft of Heechul’s ass and smirked at the way the older singer jumped and rocked back against him with a moan. He pulled his fingers back, Heechul’s tongue still following them, and drew circles with one around the pink ring of muscle.
Heechul mewled and pushed back with his hips, searching for anything at all to bring release. He let out a loud cry, part pleasure, part pain, when Hankyung slipped in two fingers at once, immediately scissoring them and pushing in and out. Hankyung knew he found Heechul’s prostrate when he suddenly jerked forward with a loud, shaky moan before pushing back hard. Keeping a hand on the middle of Heechul’s back to hold him down, Hankyung pulled hard on the makeshift leash and pressed his fingers against Heechul’s prostrate. Heechul clawed at the wall behind the couch, his mouth moving soundlessly thanks to the lack of oxygen. “Ha-Hankyung . . . cl-close!” he managed to rasp out when Hankyung let the fabric slack slightly.
Hankyung took in Heechul’s stuttering hips and leaking cock and pulled his fingers out, much to Heechul’s incoherent dismay, and let the leash go slack. The rush of oxygen back through Heechul’s body burned fantastically and made his erection ache as it stood, bowed against his pale stomach in an angry pink. Hankyung lifted his hand from Heechul’s back to stroke himself, spreading his pre-cum in lieu of actual lube.
Without warning, and he really didn’t think it mattered with the way Heechul was squirming and pleading, Hankyung pushed in past the tight circle and paused, soaking up Heechul’s heat and moans. When Heechul demanded he move, Hankyung pulled the velvet tight as he pulled himself back until only the tip of his cock was in the petite man and then slammed back in, pulling on the leash tighter still.
Heechul’s body jerked forward with the force of the thrust and his head lolled from pleasure mixed with lack of oxygen. The burn in his lungs morphed into a fire in the belly of his stomach as Hankyung kept the rhythm up with hard, fast thrusts, always keeping a tight hold on the velvet around Heechul’s neck. He wanted to cry out, to fairly scream in pleasure, but couldn’t get enough air in his lungs to even whisper, so he settled instead for mouthing Hankyung’s name over and over again, pressing his hips back to meet his lover’s thrusts.
Hankyung delivered a particularly hard thrust directly to Heechul’s sensitive spot, moaning at the sporadic clenching around his swollen member. He could tell Heechul was on the edge and so he pressed in against him, rocking shallowly into his prostrate and let go of the leash. The slide of velvet against his neck as air rushed to his lungs in a choked gasp along with Hankyung’s constant ministrations was too much for Heechul and he came hard on the back of the couch.
A few more thrusts and rocks into Heechul’s impossibly tight hole, still twitching occasionally in a post-pleasure muscle spasm, ended it for Hankyung and he came with a low groan, still buried deep in the older man. Heechul, still in a daze from his climax, moaned at the feel of the other’s warm cum filling him, the heat somewhat soothing to abused insides.
Hankyung pulled out, grabbing a handful of nearby tissues to catch the cum running down Heechul’s thighs and went on to clean them both up to some degree and did his best with the couch. That was a stain they were definitely going to have to hear about from Leeteuk. He got situated them on the couch, Heechul already out of it, and was working on pulling a blanket over them in some semblance of decency when someone squeezed his shoulder.
He looked down at Heechul who could barely keep his eyes open and waited for him to say what he wanted to. “You. . .” he started groggily, his voice a little hoarse, “owe me a new shirt.” Hankyung stared at Heechul in amusement as he fell back to sleep immediately before coming around and scoffing, tightening his hold on Heechul’s waist as he shifted slightly on the couch.
“Like hell I do,” he finally muttered back before falling asleep as well.
/SHOT
Pairing: HanChul
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Notes: This is gamia's request-from-forevers-ago-turned-belated-birthday-fic XD And I'm sad to say it's not my best, by far D: I haven't wrote smut in sooo long *--* I clearly need practice! But anyways, this way for rusty smut and attempted breathplay X3
Hankyung was sick and tired of that stupid shirt. The deep-burgundy velvet looked too good on Heechul’s milky skin and Hankyung was getting fed up with cold showers. It simply wasn’t fair, he sulked, that Heechul should be able to flounce around in the nearly backless top. And it was doubly unfair that he wore it practically every day since it was his “absolute favourite shirt!” (Hankyung had sneaking suspicion Heechul only wore it so often because he knew what his exposed back looked like with every shift and twist.)
About a week into this “ridiculousness”, as Leeteuk called it, Hankyung made up his mind to stop avoiding the problem. He was debating over whether he should approach Heechul about it, or just wait for him to surface out of his room when the man in question hummed his way into the living room. He kept his eyes on the elder, thinking of how to go about things. Heechul flitted about, tidying things up but Hankyung couldn’t see anything aside from Heechul’s back as he picked up and moved things, his prominent shoulder blades and slender back muscles shifting in a hypnotic way.
Heechul turned towards Hankyung to organize the other half of the coffee table and the Chinaman got a good look of his jeans, or lack thereof. He was wearing skin-tight, black skinny jeans that had horizontal rips all the way up the thighs and with a few on the calves. The higher the rip, the wider it seemed, flashing even paler, creamier skin that Hankyung could just imagine under his fingers. He noticed they went high enough to prove Heechul wasn’t wearing boxers and Hankyung knew the other well enough to know that it meant he was either wearing honest-to-God panties or nothing at all. Hankyung was fine with whichever, really. About that time Heechul stretched in front of him (when the hell did he get so close?) and Hankyung caught a glimpse of his thong- it was only natural he moan aloud, and so he did.
He smacked a hand over his mouth, praying Heechul hadn’t heard. Sure, he wanted to face the issue, but he’d rather it not be confronted so embarrassingly. A glance up at the other’s face told him he was busted. Heechul was sporting a shit-eating grin and it infuriated Hankyung for a second until he offered to help. Hankyung frowned lightly in confusion and looked down at Heechul’s gesture to do so, only to realize he was beyond half-way hard already. Embarrassment colored his face and he started stuttering out excuses, berating himself mentally for not keeping to his resolution.
Heechul leaned forward, his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Hankyung’s head and repeated his offer to help in a low voice. Hankyung paused for a fraction of a second before growling out, “The fuck you can,” and gripping the back of Heechul’s neck to crash their mouths together. Heechul mewled into the kiss, obviously getting the reaction he had been wanting.
Hankyung pulled the petite man into his lap and Heechul melted against him instantly. Heechul’s mouth was open before he even asked and Hankyung all but jumped at the chance to swirl his tongue in the other’s mouth, picking up the taste of Cheerios and something entirely Heechul. The Korean sucked on the foreign tongue with the occasional pause to massage it with his own. Hankyung moaned low in his throat, his hands tightening low on Heechul’s hips, and Heechul bucked in his grip at the sound.
Oxygen became an issue and they pulled away with a smack and Heechul’s lips tingled still from the intensity of the kiss but he wasted no time in lapping at the curves and dips in Hankyung’s neck like a kitten with milk, raking his teeth against just the right places every so often just to hear the man below him moan. He felt hands working at his jeans and stepped back to help, pushing and wiggling until they were discarded of half way across the room. Heechul couldn’t hold back the smirk as Hankyung eyed him up and down.
Hankyung took in the view of the other as he straddled his knees, still standing, and decided for Christmas he was buying Heechul more thongs. He was mesmorized at the curve of his arousal against the pink fabric, the drooling head threatening to slip out. “Hankyu~ung!” Heechul’s whine snapped him out of his trance of sorts just in time to see the vision of his daydreams thrust in his face. “Don’t just look-do something!”
Heechul didn’t have to ask twice and gripped his shirt in one hand and Hankyung’s hair in the other when the Chinese man started mouthing his cock through the cotton of his underwear. He bit his lip to hold back as much noise as he could in an attempt to keep curious people out of the living room. One of Hankyung’s hands left his hips and he fought to open his eyes that he didn’t remember closing. Heechul watched as Hankyung tugged Heechul’s underwear down his thighs before almost immediately taking the head of his erection into his mouth and sucking lightly.
The teasing touches were driving Heechul crazy but he recognized them as Hankyung’s game to get him to beg, and he wasn’t going to give in this time. He locked his jaw against the pleasure when Hankyung finally took him whole and refused to give the younger man the sounds he was looking for. It didn’t take long for Hankyung to start humming and Heechul began rethinking his decision to hold back. The vibrations reverberated deliciously up his spine and then back down again, a spread of pleasured goosebumps in their wake.
Hankyung understand fairly easily what Heechul was trying to do and he was fairly confident he could break him; he always did. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he fought his gag reflex and slid his mouth down Heechul until he could feel the head of his cock bump the back of his throat. He didn’t miss the choked sound Heechul made and tightened his grip on the pale hips before swallowing around him, his throat muscles milking the other’s cock rhythmically.
A loud moan tore from Heechul’s throat followed by an equally loud curse and Hankyung pulled back, having got what he was looking for. “The fuck, Hankyung!” Heechul gasped and attempted to glare at him though his mind was still too hazy for it to be anything threatening. Hankyung ignored him, instead simply tugging the velvet shirt off and promptly ripping a sleeve off. The Korean stared at him, flabbergasted. Part of Heechul was somewhat amazed at how easily the other tore the fabric while the rest of him was furious over his shirt’s demise.
Before he could protest, Hankyung was calmly tying the sleeve around his eyes like a blindfold, the elasticity and length making it reach all the way easily. Heechul shouted and made to take it off, but Hankyung grabbed his wrists firmly in one hand and lifted his hands above his head, placing open-mouthed kisses along Heechul’s collarbone until he felt the elder relax and accept the blindfold. “Turn around and kneel against the couch,” he instructed, guiding Heechul by the waist as he stood up himself, standing behind the other man.
Hankyung rolled the rest of the shirt up so that it almost resembled a rope and tied an end securely around Heechul’s neck, wrapping the other end around his hand. He gave an experimental tug and groaned quietly at the way Heechul’s breath caught, the choking sound blending off into a moan when Hankyung let off the pressure. He rid himself of his sweat pants and boxers the best he could with one hand, not even bothering with his tank top.
Leaning forward he pushed his fingers against Heechul’s lips and ordered directly into his ear for him to suck. Heechul obediently took the digits into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tips and sucking hard. Hankyung rolled his hips into the cleft of Heechul’s ass and smirked at the way the older singer jumped and rocked back against him with a moan. He pulled his fingers back, Heechul’s tongue still following them, and drew circles with one around the pink ring of muscle.
Heechul mewled and pushed back with his hips, searching for anything at all to bring release. He let out a loud cry, part pleasure, part pain, when Hankyung slipped in two fingers at once, immediately scissoring them and pushing in and out. Hankyung knew he found Heechul’s prostrate when he suddenly jerked forward with a loud, shaky moan before pushing back hard. Keeping a hand on the middle of Heechul’s back to hold him down, Hankyung pulled hard on the makeshift leash and pressed his fingers against Heechul’s prostrate. Heechul clawed at the wall behind the couch, his mouth moving soundlessly thanks to the lack of oxygen. “Ha-Hankyung . . . cl-close!” he managed to rasp out when Hankyung let the fabric slack slightly.
Hankyung took in Heechul’s stuttering hips and leaking cock and pulled his fingers out, much to Heechul’s incoherent dismay, and let the leash go slack. The rush of oxygen back through Heechul’s body burned fantastically and made his erection ache as it stood, bowed against his pale stomach in an angry pink. Hankyung lifted his hand from Heechul’s back to stroke himself, spreading his pre-cum in lieu of actual lube.
Without warning, and he really didn’t think it mattered with the way Heechul was squirming and pleading, Hankyung pushed in past the tight circle and paused, soaking up Heechul’s heat and moans. When Heechul demanded he move, Hankyung pulled the velvet tight as he pulled himself back until only the tip of his cock was in the petite man and then slammed back in, pulling on the leash tighter still.
Heechul’s body jerked forward with the force of the thrust and his head lolled from pleasure mixed with lack of oxygen. The burn in his lungs morphed into a fire in the belly of his stomach as Hankyung kept the rhythm up with hard, fast thrusts, always keeping a tight hold on the velvet around Heechul’s neck. He wanted to cry out, to fairly scream in pleasure, but couldn’t get enough air in his lungs to even whisper, so he settled instead for mouthing Hankyung’s name over and over again, pressing his hips back to meet his lover’s thrusts.
Hankyung delivered a particularly hard thrust directly to Heechul’s sensitive spot, moaning at the sporadic clenching around his swollen member. He could tell Heechul was on the edge and so he pressed in against him, rocking shallowly into his prostrate and let go of the leash. The slide of velvet against his neck as air rushed to his lungs in a choked gasp along with Hankyung’s constant ministrations was too much for Heechul and he came hard on the back of the couch.
A few more thrusts and rocks into Heechul’s impossibly tight hole, still twitching occasionally in a post-pleasure muscle spasm, ended it for Hankyung and he came with a low groan, still buried deep in the older man. Heechul, still in a daze from his climax, moaned at the feel of the other’s warm cum filling him, the heat somewhat soothing to abused insides.
Hankyung pulled out, grabbing a handful of nearby tissues to catch the cum running down Heechul’s thighs and went on to clean them both up to some degree and did his best with the couch. That was a stain they were definitely going to have to hear about from Leeteuk. He got situated them on the couch, Heechul already out of it, and was working on pulling a blanket over them in some semblance of decency when someone squeezed his shoulder.
He looked down at Heechul who could barely keep his eyes open and waited for him to say what he wanted to. “You. . .” he started groggily, his voice a little hoarse, “owe me a new shirt.” Hankyung stared at Heechul in amusement as he fell back to sleep immediately before coming around and scoffing, tightening his hold on Heechul’s waist as he shifted slightly on the couch.
“Like hell I do,” he finally muttered back before falling asleep as well.
/SHOT