The Faze Is Just An Excuse
Title: The Faze is Just an Excuse
Pairing: Junma
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing.
Rating: R
Note: For miquilis. Here's your drabble continuation after so long. Do you even want it? You wanted to continue it. It's okay if you don't. If you huggle me I'll be happy enough ^^
Toma lifted his head to peek between his legs. Fuzzy mind suddenly caught up in one moment of clarity when he saw Jun kissing his inner thighs. Fingers pressed into pale flesh, colouring them, making them blush.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing-
Fingers dig painfully into his thighs and Jun kisses excruciatingly close to his member. Toma’s head lolls back onto his pillows.
“Do you really think that?”
Toma’s mind is a blur again.
“No.” Or maybe it’s just an excuse to be stupid because the feeling of Jun crawling up his body and holding him tight, with lips seamed together was too good to give up.
Toma’s never felt this useless, but he’s never felt this alive doing something that did not involve a stage. Toma felt addicted to the feeling of their bodies slick with sweat moving against each other, the fire coursing through him when Jun pressed their hips together, when Jun traced the curve of his ass.
Too addicted to forget the pain when he finds himself alone on his bed the next morning.
Toma caresses where Jun should have been, where in Toma’s mind his warmth still lingers. It’s been a while since Jun’s woken up beside him all awkward and unsure.
Toma gulps down two pills from his bedside drawer to tackle his headache.
He wonders if Jun avoiding the awkwardness of the morning, makes anything they do under the so-called influence of alcohol, right.
He’s lost a friend in the moment of fuzzy heat and an odd passion he can’t put a finger on.
And he’s sad about it.
Pairing: Junma
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing.
Rating: R
Note: For miquilis. Here's your drabble continuation after so long. Do you even want it? You wanted to continue it. It's okay if you don't. If you huggle me I'll be happy enough ^^
Toma lifted his head to peek between his legs. Fuzzy mind suddenly caught up in one moment of clarity when he saw Jun kissing his inner thighs. Fingers pressed into pale flesh, colouring them, making them blush.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing-
Fingers dig painfully into his thighs and Jun kisses excruciatingly close to his member. Toma’s head lolls back onto his pillows.
“Do you really think that?”
Toma’s mind is a blur again.
“No.” Or maybe it’s just an excuse to be stupid because the feeling of Jun crawling up his body and holding him tight, with lips seamed together was too good to give up.
Toma’s never felt this useless, but he’s never felt this alive doing something that did not involve a stage. Toma felt addicted to the feeling of their bodies slick with sweat moving against each other, the fire coursing through him when Jun pressed their hips together, when Jun traced the curve of his ass.
Too addicted to forget the pain when he finds himself alone on his bed the next morning.
Toma caresses where Jun should have been, where in Toma’s mind his warmth still lingers. It’s been a while since Jun’s woken up beside him all awkward and unsure.
Toma gulps down two pills from his bedside drawer to tackle his headache.
He wonders if Jun avoiding the awkwardness of the morning, makes anything they do under the so-called influence of alcohol, right.
He’s lost a friend in the moment of fuzzy heat and an odd passion he can’t put a finger on.
And he’s sad about it.