[B.A.P; yongguk/himchan]
title: untitled
pairing: yongguk/himchan
rating: pg-13
summary: a stolen moment in bed
600w.
a/n: a drabble since himchan's b-day is coming up and i should start writing for bap. i've got another longer one almost done but but:SS
It’s six am when Himchan, B.A.P’s umma, the derpinator, the one that catches Yongguk reading porn in their bunny-forms (but not irl because, y’know, Yongguk doesn’t need porn mags ahem, ahem) wakes up to a snoring log next to him. He thinks Yongguk the log is quite endearing, actually, when his eyes are closed and his mouth shut so there are no insults spitted to Himchan’s general direction; Yongguk can look rather cute with his red, red plump lips. Himchan decides to throw a leg over Yongguk’s limp body that’s lying well rested, his left arm folded and tucked underneath his head for extra support and his lips forming a subtle smile that makes Himchan’s own ones itch closer for a kiss. Damn Yongguk for being a walking sex bunny, or in this case a lying one, all the better for Himchan, of course.
The clock on the wall ticks away as he listens to the quiet dorm and the humming of the fridge behind the closed bedroom door. It’s been almost three months since their debut yet it still feels kind of surreal, the idea of being in a boy band; being an idol in an idol group doing idol-like stuff. But right now, for once, he’s not in the practice room dancing and rapping and singing and sweating with the members, but just lying still on the bed that he shares with the other male. Yongguk, whose gummy smile is kind of on the cuter side and head size on the bigger, manages to make Himchan’s heart beat furiously (like he’s having a seizure at the age of twenty-o- twenty-two). He moves a sneaky hand underneath Yongguk’s t-shirt, fingers sliding across hard abdomen muscles as the tips press down imaginary notes, playing the softest tune that’s ever been heard.
“Stop it,” Yongguk stirs with a sleepy groan and a hand gripping Himchan’s wrist to halt the movement on his skin.
“It’s ticklish,” he says, breathing out a giggle.
“Sshh, I’m trying to think of the lyrics.” Himchan mutters matter-of-factly, his brows furrowing softly to emphasize the point. Yongguk’s hand is warm around his wrist, the grip not tight enough to hold back fingers dancing on skin.
If asked about his favourite instrument, Himchan would answer, without a beat, that it’s Yongguk; Yongguk’s his favourite instrument to play.
“Stop it already!” The male can actually giggle, who would’ve known. Yongguk might as well audition for the role of some blue, soft and fluffy, teddy bear on kids’ morning shows. He flails around, legs kicking the blanket off their bodies, and Himchan falls in love all over again (as if he’s hasn’t been there and done exactly that).
It goes downhill from there when Yongguk’s eyes suddenly open and focus on Himchan’s face, a bit fiercer than normal and darker, much, much darker. There’s a tingling sensation in the pit of Himchan’s stomach that acts as a natural response to the look sent his way. He shifts a little, the leg placed over Yongguk’s lower body rubbing against sensitive skin, before he lowers himself and catches dry lips and wet tongue. A few soft cries and mewls later Himchan decides that these are the lyrics; a hand sneaking up across pale skin and a pink nipple trapped between two fingers-open mouthed kisses with teeth pulling on lips, swollen flesh and cotton fabric riding up, up, up.
“I want my birthday present now,” Himchan pouts, eyes drooping.
And then they go at it like bunnies on a farm.
pairing: yongguk/himchan
rating: pg-13
summary: a stolen moment in bed
600w.
a/n: a drabble since himchan's b-day is coming up and i should start writing for bap. i've got another longer one almost done but but:SS
It’s six am when Himchan, B.A.P’s umma, the derpinator, the one that catches Yongguk reading porn in their bunny-forms (but not irl because, y’know, Yongguk doesn’t need porn mags ahem, ahem) wakes up to a snoring log next to him. He thinks Yongguk the log is quite endearing, actually, when his eyes are closed and his mouth shut so there are no insults spitted to Himchan’s general direction; Yongguk can look rather cute with his red, red plump lips. Himchan decides to throw a leg over Yongguk’s limp body that’s lying well rested, his left arm folded and tucked underneath his head for extra support and his lips forming a subtle smile that makes Himchan’s own ones itch closer for a kiss. Damn Yongguk for being a walking sex bunny, or in this case a lying one, all the better for Himchan, of course.
The clock on the wall ticks away as he listens to the quiet dorm and the humming of the fridge behind the closed bedroom door. It’s been almost three months since their debut yet it still feels kind of surreal, the idea of being in a boy band; being an idol in an idol group doing idol-like stuff. But right now, for once, he’s not in the practice room dancing and rapping and singing and sweating with the members, but just lying still on the bed that he shares with the other male. Yongguk, whose gummy smile is kind of on the cuter side and head size on the bigger, manages to make Himchan’s heart beat furiously (like he’s having a seizure at the age of twenty-o- twenty-two). He moves a sneaky hand underneath Yongguk’s t-shirt, fingers sliding across hard abdomen muscles as the tips press down imaginary notes, playing the softest tune that’s ever been heard.
“Stop it,” Yongguk stirs with a sleepy groan and a hand gripping Himchan’s wrist to halt the movement on his skin.
“It’s ticklish,” he says, breathing out a giggle.
“Sshh, I’m trying to think of the lyrics.” Himchan mutters matter-of-factly, his brows furrowing softly to emphasize the point. Yongguk’s hand is warm around his wrist, the grip not tight enough to hold back fingers dancing on skin.
If asked about his favourite instrument, Himchan would answer, without a beat, that it’s Yongguk; Yongguk’s his favourite instrument to play.
“Stop it already!” The male can actually giggle, who would’ve known. Yongguk might as well audition for the role of some blue, soft and fluffy, teddy bear on kids’ morning shows. He flails around, legs kicking the blanket off their bodies, and Himchan falls in love all over again (as if he’s hasn’t been there and done exactly that).
It goes downhill from there when Yongguk’s eyes suddenly open and focus on Himchan’s face, a bit fiercer than normal and darker, much, much darker. There’s a tingling sensation in the pit of Himchan’s stomach that acts as a natural response to the look sent his way. He shifts a little, the leg placed over Yongguk’s lower body rubbing against sensitive skin, before he lowers himself and catches dry lips and wet tongue. A few soft cries and mewls later Himchan decides that these are the lyrics; a hand sneaking up across pale skin and a pink nipple trapped between two fingers-open mouthed kisses with teeth pulling on lips, swollen flesh and cotton fabric riding up, up, up.
“I want my birthday present now,” Himchan pouts, eyes drooping.
And then they go at it like bunnies on a farm.