Pray for me people

[onthethruway01]

Hungry

It always hit him around the same time of the evening. It was midnight and his stomach growled, reminding him that it was time for a snack. It was confusing to him, because all he did was eat and yet he never seemed to get full; never seemed to be satisfied. Always yearning; yearning to be fulfilled. Always empty. Not just his stomach; but his heart seemed empty too. He was missing something; something that he just couldn’t figure out. Perhaps satisfying his stomach would help him remember what he lost, or maybe it would help him to forget.

Sneaking out of his hotel room he meandered down the hallway in his bare feet, wearing only a wife beater and a pair of sleep pants that fell below his waist. He pulled them up trying to avoid tripping over them, but they slipped back down over his hips.

As he continued his wanderings, the intense desire to escape the confines of the hotel became overwhelming. He had an itch he wanted to scratch, but for the first time in a long time, he exercised self-control.

“Don’t leave the hotel,” he told himself. “Don’t go drinking. Don’t go looking for girls. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He shook his head.

“Damn it,” he cursed himself. “I must be growing up.”

Coming around the bend, he found what he was looking for; a secluded area with a few snack machines, each conveniently next to one another, evenly spaced to form a U shaped alcove. Soda, candy, some sort of chips and the ice machine were tucked away in this corner at the end of the hallway. He took a small plastic cup from the ice machine and pushed the lever, a perfectly formed cube falling into it. Sucking upon the ice, he stared for an eternity in front of the candy dispenser next to the ice machine. Pressing his nose to the glass, he inhaled deeply. As if he could smell which sugary coated goody was tastier than the other, he made his final decision. He reached for the change in his pockets, only to realize that he had no pockets. No pockets, therefore, no change for the machine. Angrily tossing the plastic cup and ice cube into a nearby garbage can, he cursed himself. With hands flat against the display case he exhaled; his breath temporarily fogging up the glass.

“No change, huh?” a voice startled him.

He turned around, back flat to the vending machine and sighed deeply, smiling at a familiar face.

“Min,” Yoochun whispered to his dongsaeng, “hungry too?”

It was a stupid question. Changmin was always hungry. Like his hyung, the tall, lanky maknae awoke in the middle of the night; his stomach growling and churning.

“They don’t have much here, but manager hyung gave us the warning. No going out. I guess we’ll have to make do, won’t we?”

Changmin said nothing. His eyes stared deeply into Yoochun’s dark orbs.

“Min?”

The maknae stood in silence.

“Do you have any money?” Yoochun asked him, but received no answer.

Yoochun looked at Changmin and realized that his young friend’s sleep pants were devoid of pockets like his own. Both had left their rooms, their hunger so great that they forgot that there was no such thing as a free lunch, or in this case, a free midnight snack.

“I’m not hungry,” Changmin spoke, his voice barely a whisper, “not for food, anyway.”

“Min?”

The younger man moved towards his friend, Yoochun staggering backwards, his body up against the wall. He was wedged between the ice dispenser and the candy machine.

The younger man leaned in dangerously close to his friend, his hot breath on Yoochun’s neck.

“I’m hungry for you, hyung.”

Yoochun whimpered as Changmin’s mouth assaulted his own; opening it with force, plunging his tongue deep inside, taking his breath away. Yoochun was cornered; he had nowhere to go. He was caught between the two vending machines. Changmin pressed his body hard into the older man’s, grinding his hips; Yoochun gasping as he felt his young friend’s cock through the thin fabric of his sleep pants. His own member grew rigid as Changmin continued his rough affection.

“I’ve missed you hyung,” he moaned as he momentarily broke off the kiss.

He bit Yoochun’s lower lip, drawing blood, the older man wincing in pain.

“Wait Changmin,”   Yoochun gasped. “Not here.”

Changmin shook his head and he hastily pulled the undershirt over Yoochun’s head.

“No time,” he exhaled as he went back to the business at hand.

Within moments, Yoochun’s sleep pants were pooled around his ankles.

“Oh God,” the baritone exclaimed as his young friend undid the ties to his own pajamas.

Hastily stepping out of his sleep wear, Changmin once more pressed his advantage. With nowhere to go, Yoochun’s arms outstretched, his palms flat against the sides of the vending machine as Changmin’s pillowy lips sucked upon his throat, eliciting a deep growl from the older man.

“You are burning up,” Changmin exclaimed as his hands roamed across his hyung’s upper torso, now hot to the touch.

“You need to cool down.”

Yoochun’s eyes grew wide as Changmin’s long arms reached out to the ice dispenser and pushed the buttons. The baritone stifled a scream as crushed ice dribbled down his chest and body. He shivered as his juniors tongue lapped its way back and forth across his skin.

Another button was pressed and a cube came out this time. Changmin put the cube half way in his mouth; the other half protruding from his lips. Lips and ice cube began working in unison, attacking Yoochun’s sensitive nipples until they grew hard.

“Mmppphhh,” or something like that escaped Yoochun’s mouth as the melted ice continued to do its trick.

“Almost ready hyung,” Changmin exhaled, as his long arms once more reached for the ice machine.

Yoochun closed his eyes as the sound of crushed ice flowing forth from the machine seemed to continue forever. Instinctively, the baritone stepped out of his sleep pants and kicked them away. His feet and ankles now set free, he spread his legs, ready for whatever his young friend had in store for him.

“Turn around hyung,” Changmin entreated him, and a very wary, yet sexually excited Yoochun complied.

Bracing himself, he took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. It did him no good. Suppressing a scream, he shuddered as the frozen pieces of ice ran a trail down his neck and back, dribbling across his ribs and dripping off his backside. More was added, making the baritone cry and beg his junior to stop.

“Please Changmin,” he cried. “No more ice.”

The younger man answered him, his voice surprisingly harsh.

“But I’m thirsty, hyung”

Yoochun was shivering from cold and from anticipation. His body was in agony. He didn’t know what was worse; the cold from the ice or the painful throbbing of his engorged cock.

“Damn you Min,” he cursed his junior. “Fuck me already.”

Changmin slapped Yoochun’s ass and took a playful bite out of it.   Falling to his knees, the maknae began to lap the drops of water which were running like deep rivulets down Yoochun’s flesh. Struggling to stand up, Yoochun mewled as Changmin’s tongue worked its way up his wobbly legs, sucking upon the skin between his thighs. Yoochun banged his head against the wall as Changmin took his balls in his mouth, the older man unconsciously cursing in English as his blissful torment continued.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bellowed, but the worst was yet to come.

Yoochun’s heart lurched, as Changmin's hands grasped his butt cheeks and spread them wide open, digging his nails into his hyung’s skin. Starting from the base of Yoochun’s sack, Changmin’s tongue explored every inch between his ass, licking, swirling and lathing with great abandon across his hyung’s sensitive pucker making the baritone twist and turn in a frenzy of pleasure. Yoochun was losing his mind.

Changmin was in Heaven. He loved torturing Yoochun this way. It had always been their secret. Only Yoochun let him be in control. Only Yoochun let Min top him.

Knowing his friend had had enough, fingers made their way inside his opening, stretching him out, probing, twisting and turning, scissoring motions bringing the wiry baritone to the brink of ecstasy.

With tears in his eyes, Yoochun begged Changmin to finish the deed.

Changmin’s body was slick with sweat; his heart hammering hard inside him. The feel of Yoochun’s body against his own, his hyung’s skin cool and wet helped calm his nerves. Rubbing the head of his cock against Yoochun’s opening he slid inside slowly; both men holding their breath. It had been too long.

Min started to move slowly and steadily, his thrusts surprisingly gentle. He knew neither of them would last much longer.. The foreplay with the ice had exhausted both of them. Holding Yoochun by the hips, he increased his speed, holding on tightly to the older man who had lost all ability to hold himself up. Yoochun’s cock twitched against his belly; the viscous fluid weeping from the tip. The head of Changmin’s cock scraped deep and hard against his prostrate, his body bucking hard as he exploded full force. Changmin held fast to his hyung’s waist as the older man slumped. The maknae groaned into Yoochun’s swan-like neck as he spilled; his left hand braced against the wall, his right still firmly wrapped around his friend.

Changmin leaned against the ice machine, still holding on to his friend. Seconds ticked by as they regained their composure and their strength. They helped each other dress; neither saying a word. They made their way in silence down the hall and as they parted, they did so with a heavy heart, not knowing what the future would bring. For now their thirst for each other had been quenched, but they knew that no matter what happened, they would always be hungry; hungry for each other.