Fic: Sacrifice
The adrenaline burns through his system sweeter than any sugar, making him higher than any drug. The cotton beneath his back is cool but Junhong's lips are even chillier against his overheated skin, sending his nerves into sensory overload as he's spread across the bed.
"Junhong-ah.."
Already the room is spinning, his sense of self ebbing and flowing with each kiss and caress of Junhong's masterful hands. It's too easy, almost, the way he bends to his will, arching up for absolution, moaning as Junhong folds so easily into the crevices and contortions of his body, filling him up completely.
The pleasure is exquisite and mind numbing. Junhong has to remind him to breathe.
But each long, slow glide has his legs trembling, a silent scream on his lips that only ghosts can hear.
His nails dig deep into the fine sheen of sweat that soaks the muscles of Junhong's back, needing something, anything, to hold onto. His hitched breaths and quiet begging have not fallen on deaf ears. The first quick snap of his hips are a catalyst.
It was only a matter of time.
His voice escalates as his nerves sing, acting and reacting to the sudden brutal, unyielding pace of ownership, of dominance, overwhelming him in sensation.
"Please... "
Junhong groans against his ear in response, hands forcing his hips harder down into the dark sheets pooled beneath them. In a fit of frustration, he shoves them aside and presses his palms into the lightly marred skin of his thighs, forcing them wider and more open, taking as he pleases.
Each low growl and bitten back curse sends shivers careening down his spine.
He's so, so close.
In a final act of submission, he pries his eyes open, gaze a bit unsteady as he stares into pale, otherworldly blue, and holds it as he tilts his head back in offering.
"Take from me.."
The words are barely free of his tongue when Junhong does exactly that, extending his fangs into the tender flesh of his neck. The euphoria is white hot and blinding, painful in its intensity, and then Junhong’s lips are sucking and oh.
His figure shudders hard as his mouth pulls, fighting the thudding of his heart and leaving him gasping, sightless and weightless. He convulses over and over and it’s all he can do to keep himself grounded with his nails embedded in Junhong’s shoulders.
His vision blackens and he closes his eyes, breathing in shuddering exhalations. Junhong takes until he feels the form relax beneath him, until he knows it’s enough.
Then he licks the wounds and waits.
Youngjae’s eyes are hazy when he opens them. A mischievous but warm smile and the bluest pair of eyes are the first thing he sees. Junhong’s hands are no longer cool as he traces the shape of Youngjae’s cheek, waiting for him to come back into himself.
“Thank you,” He murmurs, just before he leans in to kiss him, and Youngjae can only make a soft sound, pliant and content. He knows that’s not what he means to say, and when Junhong pulls back his gaze is both warm and determined. “I want you to stay tonight,” He says.
Youngjae nods, letting Junhong draw him into his embrace as he pulls the sheets up, his nose pressing into Youngjae’s hairline as he settles behind him. And this is the place Youngjae’s always loved the most-Knowing explicitly that here he doesn’t have to worry about his slave clothes on the floor, or the politics of being the favourite to a highborn.
Here it’s just him and Junhong.
The smile against his spine and the tighter curl of an arm around his waist tells him Junhong agrees.
"Junhong-ah.."
Already the room is spinning, his sense of self ebbing and flowing with each kiss and caress of Junhong's masterful hands. It's too easy, almost, the way he bends to his will, arching up for absolution, moaning as Junhong folds so easily into the crevices and contortions of his body, filling him up completely.
The pleasure is exquisite and mind numbing. Junhong has to remind him to breathe.
But each long, slow glide has his legs trembling, a silent scream on his lips that only ghosts can hear.
His nails dig deep into the fine sheen of sweat that soaks the muscles of Junhong's back, needing something, anything, to hold onto. His hitched breaths and quiet begging have not fallen on deaf ears. The first quick snap of his hips are a catalyst.
It was only a matter of time.
His voice escalates as his nerves sing, acting and reacting to the sudden brutal, unyielding pace of ownership, of dominance, overwhelming him in sensation.
"Please... "
Junhong groans against his ear in response, hands forcing his hips harder down into the dark sheets pooled beneath them. In a fit of frustration, he shoves them aside and presses his palms into the lightly marred skin of his thighs, forcing them wider and more open, taking as he pleases.
Each low growl and bitten back curse sends shivers careening down his spine.
He's so, so close.
In a final act of submission, he pries his eyes open, gaze a bit unsteady as he stares into pale, otherworldly blue, and holds it as he tilts his head back in offering.
"Take from me.."
The words are barely free of his tongue when Junhong does exactly that, extending his fangs into the tender flesh of his neck. The euphoria is white hot and blinding, painful in its intensity, and then Junhong’s lips are sucking and oh.
His figure shudders hard as his mouth pulls, fighting the thudding of his heart and leaving him gasping, sightless and weightless. He convulses over and over and it’s all he can do to keep himself grounded with his nails embedded in Junhong’s shoulders.
His vision blackens and he closes his eyes, breathing in shuddering exhalations. Junhong takes until he feels the form relax beneath him, until he knows it’s enough.
Then he licks the wounds and waits.
Youngjae’s eyes are hazy when he opens them. A mischievous but warm smile and the bluest pair of eyes are the first thing he sees. Junhong’s hands are no longer cool as he traces the shape of Youngjae’s cheek, waiting for him to come back into himself.
“Thank you,” He murmurs, just before he leans in to kiss him, and Youngjae can only make a soft sound, pliant and content. He knows that’s not what he means to say, and when Junhong pulls back his gaze is both warm and determined. “I want you to stay tonight,” He says.
Youngjae nods, letting Junhong draw him into his embrace as he pulls the sheets up, his nose pressing into Youngjae’s hairline as he settles behind him. And this is the place Youngjae’s always loved the most-Knowing explicitly that here he doesn’t have to worry about his slave clothes on the floor, or the politics of being the favourite to a highborn.
Here it’s just him and Junhong.
The smile against his spine and the tighter curl of an arm around his waist tells him Junhong agrees.