Of Pink Skirts and Popsicles
“Of course it does. The skirt shows off your legs so nicely…” Junsu practically feels Yoochun’s eyes trail down his legs, and he shivers, partly from the cold, but mostly from the unspoken caress in Yoochun’s voice.
“Tell me again why you had a pink skirt in your closet?”
Yoochun shrugs. “I was out shopping one day and saw in the ladies’ section. It looked nice, and I thought it would look good on you…” His voice had become huskier, and his eyes had yet to stop staring at Junsu’s legs. “Come here, Junsu,” he says abruptly, beckoning.
He silently moves to where Yoochun’s laying on the bed, uncomfortable with the way his body seems to be getting warmer under Yoochun’s gaze.
Yoochun lifts his hand and gently touches the expanse of leg in front of him. “So soft,” he murmurs. His fingers spread apart and begin to stroke, moving to more and more places.
Junsu takes in a shuddering breath. Yoochun’s fingers feel so warm and so good on his skin that he doesn’t want him to stop. He looks down at him, and their eyes lock; Junsu feels his breath catch at the unhidden desire in Yoochun’s eyes.
He feels his mouth curl up into a smirk. Maybe there’s something good about wearing the skirt after all. “So,” he drawls quietly. “What do you want me to do?”
Take off your clothes and let me fuck you, Yoochun thinks. Of course, he doesn’t say it; there are other ways of letting Junsu know that he’s turning him on rather strongly. He merely moves his hand up higher, closer to Junsu’s crotch, and continues to stroke. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “What do you want to do?”
Junsu’s a little too aware of the hand near his crotch, and he finds that he wants Yoochun’s hand to come even closer. But at the same time, he thinks that the way Yoochun’s teasing him to be unfair. He smiles and bends over, knowing that the mirror behind him would let Yoochun see the slight raise of the skirt. True enough, he sees Yoochun’s eyes flick behind him, and he takes advantage of his momentary distraction to trail his hand over Yoochun’s shirt, taking care to rub his nipples as his hand trails past it. His hand continues to move downwards until he reaches Yoochun’s crotch. “Oh dear,” he says wickedly, “it seems like you need some help.” He gently squeezes Yoochun’s cock through his jeans and grins at the resulting jump.
In a flash, Junsu finds himself on the bed and underneath Yoochun. “So do you,” Yoochun almost purrs as his hand tantalizingly inches up Junsu’s skirt. His other hand softly rubs across Junsu’s lips, and his eyes drop to look at them. His other hand soon reaches the top of Junsu’s thigh, and Junsu stiffens, anticipating Yoochun’s touch.
“Junsu-hyung? Are you in here?” Changmin’s voice is suddenly heard from other side of the door.
“Go away, Changmin,” Junsu says loudly. To his dismay, Yoochun had gotten off of him to lie next to him, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Yunho-hyung just called and said he and Jaejoong-hyung will be home soon.” Junsu suddenly hears a delicate cough. “So… hurry up and get decent before they get back.”
He blushes and refuses to look down at Yoochun, who is now almost crying with laughter. “Stop laughing,” he says morosely. “It’s bad enough.”
“I’m sorry, Junsu,” Yoochun replies breathlessly. He continues to laugh for a little while longer, and when he calms down, he reaches up to pull Junsu down for a kiss. “We’ll finish that later,” he whispers.
Junsu smiles impishly. “If you say so.”