[team sonic] Weiche Teile

[bluedreaming]

First word from here.
This is inspired by a tweet and accompanying photograph of the Kyungsoo pig stuffed toy as shared to me by lattelotus. You don't need to read it. This is inspired somewhat by the book Como agua para chocolate by Laura Esquivel, and the line a symphony in your mouth is from the Babycakes Cookbook by Erin McKenna. The title is from the song Mein Teil by Rammstein.
In this story, Kyungsoo is literally actually pork and gets eaten. It's an orgasmic dining experience. Yes. That is all.



Why can nothing compared to pork? Jongin thinks, taking a bite of the succulent meat, the flesh juicy, flavourful, surrounding his tongue with an explosion of taste.

On the plate, Kyungsoo smiles, stretches the fibres, luxuriates in the marinade he's been bathing in, skin crispy and delicately seared.

I've been coaxed, bathed, gently roasted, he thinks, basking on the fine porcelain, gold rim glimmering the candlelight. Kyungsoo approves of this diner, Jongin, he appreciates the smoothness of his flesh, lets the flavour wash through his mouth.

Jongin carefully cuts forkfuls of meat, cutting against the grain, juices seeping out below the knife, running clear with a hint of brown from the marinade. The texture in his mouth is excruciatingly pleasurable; he moans just a little as the pork slips down his throat.

Piece by piece he divides Kyungsoo into small sections, disappearing into his mouth as the metal of the fork shines in the light, his lips shiny, glistening, teeth gently, almost worshipfully coming together, pulling apart, grinding the flesh as the juices seep out and touch every corner of Jongin's mouth. His skin is singing, bones on fire, every bite adding to the glowing warmth in his stomach.

Section by section Kyungsoo is divided, conquered, devoured, the smooth glide of the knife slipping through his fibres, the mouth-warmed tines of the fork sliding under him, parts of him, lifting him up through the air where he slips over soft, luscious lips, smooth and pink, sliding between teeth where he's lovingly disassembled and macerated, utterly wrecked, completely undone as he slips down Jongin's throat. Everything vibrates as Jongin inhales, breath shuddering, exhales, it's almost too much, such sweet overstimulation shuddering him apart until he dissolves in Jongin's stomach.

The glow builds in his stomach, slips lower to pool between his legs, with every bite, flavour bursting like a private symphony in his mouth, a line of pleasure snakes down his back until Jongin is quivering, the last bite slipping between his lips, fork and knife rattling slightly, metal on porcelain as he lets the last piece of pork slides down his throat—the glow, the fire builds, overflows, as warm wet fills the front of his pants and he gasps, fingers knotting in the linen of the tablecloth, crumpling the fabric as he blinks, fingertips buzzing, tries to focus his eyes.

The plate is empty.

Satisfaction.

Jongin straightens, smooths his rumpled clothing, ignores the stickiness between his legs as he delicately dabs at his mouth with the crisp white napkin. What shall I eat tomorrow?

Comments

[dori-liv.livejournal.com]

WOW

I don't even know what to say but, - wow

:Db

[bluedreaming]

*small embarassed faces*

[lotusk]

This isn't just a symphony of taste, it's a symphony or words and images and sounds. A real tour de force, ansabear ;;;;

[lotusk]

And that last bit about the stickiness was just omg. Apt tbh.

[bluedreaming]

thanks ;; it was actually quite fun! I wish everyone enjoyed eating this much lol I wanted to make it seem like - something more than just eating - like eating but kind of body-worship? just translated to food