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writetomyheart2015-10-19 03:02 pm
softboys.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-10-19 03:02 pm
[team sonic] i'll go for you
first words from come alive.
title from The Academy Is..'s After the Last Midtown Show
hopefully i did this right
Something cold presses against Taekwoon’s shin, making him yelp, pulling him out of his slumber. A soft yelp escapes his lips, eyes opening slightly as Taekwoon squints at his surroundings. The bedroom looks just like it did when he went to bed last night; walls forest green, white curtains moving slowly in time with the soft spring breeze coming through the slightly open window. It’s a little bit too cold to be sleeping with open windows yet, his mother had chided, but Taekwoon sleeps the best when his bedroom is cold.
A chill runs up his spine, making him curl in on himself, as two cold hands slide up under his cotton t-shirt, coming to rest just over his breastbone. Taekwoon frowns, shudders again. He pulls down the thick comforter to reveal a mop of messy, black hair.
His face softens immediately, his hand releasing the comforter to run through the hair, which he finds moist, smelling like cherries.
“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon says quietly, moving his hand down the back of Hakyeon’s head. The stands of his hair are soft, poking up between the gaps of Taekwoon’s fingers. It’s a nice feeling, Taekwoon thinks. He loves to spend hours combing through Hakyeon’s hair, lulling them both to sleep.
Instead of answering him, Hakyeon just presses closer to Taekwoon; the ice cold tip of his nose finds the crook of Taekwoon’s neck. Taekwoon gasps at the cold but doesn’t make any effort to try to move Hakyeon away. Taekwoon’s gaze flutters from Hakyeon’s hair to the digital clock residing on the nightstand.
6:37 am.
Hakyeon probably finished his night shift at the hospital and came straight to Taekwoon’s instead of going home. Taekwoon wonders how he got into Taekwoon’s apartment. There are only two keys to the front door, one belonging to Taekwoon and one belonging to Taekwoon’s roommate, Sanghyuk.
“How did you get in?” Taekwoon half asks half wonders aloud.
“Sanghyuk let me in,” Hakyeon murmurs against the side of Taekwoon’s neck. “I bribed him with chicken and a pack of cigarettes.”
It’s no secret that Sanghyuk thinks Hakyeon spends way too much time in their apartment. Taekwoon knows that Sanghyuk would dislike it less if Hakyeon hadn’t treated him like Sanghyuk was five years old and Hakyeon was his father. Despite not knowing Sanghyuk for that long, Hakyeon had taken an instant liking to him, clinging to him, hugging him and giving him kisses.
However, the times Hakyeon brings food or makes food, Sanghyuk loves him. In fact, Taekwoon doesn’t think he has seen Sanghyuk make himself proper food more than a couple of times during these nine months they’ve been roommates. Mostly it’s Taekwoon cooking for him, or making too much for his own dinner, filling a Tupperware box with the leftovers, leaving a subtle post-it note on the fridge door for Sanghyuk.
“You shouldn’t bribe him,” Taekwoon says, frowning even though Hakyeon can’t see him.
“Whatever he loves me,” Hakyeon replies. Taekwoon can almost hear him roll his eyes. “Now stop talking about Sanghyuk and cuddle me back.”
Taekwoon doesn’t even try to fight the smile that plays out on his lips. Before he settles down again, he pulls down the comforter further.
“Don’t. It’s cold,” Hakyeon complains, curling closer to Taekwoon.
“I want to see you,” Taekwoon murmurs softly, the tips of his ears red because he’s not this cheesy ever. But seeing Hakyeon like this, having him curled up against his own body, does something to Taekwoon.
Hakyeon remains silent for a while.
“Who are you, and what did you do to my Taekwoon?” he asks, clearly amused even though his voice is sluggish, slow.
In lieu of coming up with something to say, Taekwoon’s hands curls under Hakyeon’s chin, gently pulling him away from his neck until he’s able to see his face.
Hakyeon looks tired, eyelids heavy, dark bags under his eyes. Taekwoon runs his thumb over Hakyeon’s cheekbone; watches enamored how Hakyeon’s eyelashes flutters in response. Something hot, heavy surges in Taekwoon’s chest, warmth spreading out to the tips of his fingers, toes.
Taekwoon is cupping Hakyeon’s face in his large palms as they kiss. Hakyeon tastes like peppermint, like Taekwoon’s toothpaste.
Even as their lips brush, Taekwoon cannot not touch Hakyeon; lets his thumbs trace over the bridge of Hakyeon’s nose, trail over his eyelids, rub soothing circles over Hakyeon’s temples.
Hakyeon kisses back easily, his arms coming up to wrap around Taekwoon’s chest, bringing their bodies closer, aligned. Hakyeon’s body is getting warmer; the touch of his hands, legs against Taekwoon doesn’t feel as cold and unpleasant as it did earlier.
They’re both breathing shallowly when they pull away. Hakyeon’s eyes remain closed, and so Taekwoon leans forward, gently brushing his lips over each eyelid, feeling them flutter as he does.
Hakyeon’s bangs are soft, too, Taekwoon notices when he pulls Hakyeon’s bangs back to reveal his forehead. A soft sound of protest comes from Hakyeon, but he doesn’t make to stop Taekwoon. Gently, Taekwoon kisses Hakyeon’s forehead, feeling the warmth from Hakyeon’s body as he does.
Then, softly, quietly. “I love you, Hakyeon.”
Another soft gasp comes from Hakyeon. A hand fists in Taekwoon’s shirt, pushing him away before bringing him close again. Hakyeon kisses him feverishly, too intense for the moon and the moment, but Taekwoon lets him.
Taekwoon loses himself in the warmth, comfort, love of Hakyeon’s kiss, lets Hakyeon claim the air in his lungs, lets him kiss bruising kisses against his lips.
When Hakyeon pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, making them look bright, star-kissed.
“You,” Hakyeon says, voice half a laugh, half a sob. Taekwoon briefly wonders if he said something wrong when the most beautiful smile takes place on Hakyeon’s face. “You’re so silly, my Taekwoon.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but Hakyeon is there again, kissing him. It’s calmer, sweeter this time around. Just a brush of lips than anything else. Fingers trail over bare skin, hands cupping thighs, caressing, loving for an hour, an eternity.
"I love you too," brushes against his lips like a whisper.
Taekwoon doesn’t remember falling asleep.
title from The Academy Is..'s After the Last Midtown Show
Something cold presses against Taekwoon’s shin, making him yelp, pulling him out of his slumber. A soft yelp escapes his lips, eyes opening slightly as Taekwoon squints at his surroundings. The bedroom looks just like it did when he went to bed last night; walls forest green, white curtains moving slowly in time with the soft spring breeze coming through the slightly open window. It’s a little bit too cold to be sleeping with open windows yet, his mother had chided, but Taekwoon sleeps the best when his bedroom is cold.
A chill runs up his spine, making him curl in on himself, as two cold hands slide up under his cotton t-shirt, coming to rest just over his breastbone. Taekwoon frowns, shudders again. He pulls down the thick comforter to reveal a mop of messy, black hair.
His face softens immediately, his hand releasing the comforter to run through the hair, which he finds moist, smelling like cherries.
“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon says quietly, moving his hand down the back of Hakyeon’s head. The stands of his hair are soft, poking up between the gaps of Taekwoon’s fingers. It’s a nice feeling, Taekwoon thinks. He loves to spend hours combing through Hakyeon’s hair, lulling them both to sleep.
Instead of answering him, Hakyeon just presses closer to Taekwoon; the ice cold tip of his nose finds the crook of Taekwoon’s neck. Taekwoon gasps at the cold but doesn’t make any effort to try to move Hakyeon away. Taekwoon’s gaze flutters from Hakyeon’s hair to the digital clock residing on the nightstand.
6:37 am.
Hakyeon probably finished his night shift at the hospital and came straight to Taekwoon’s instead of going home. Taekwoon wonders how he got into Taekwoon’s apartment. There are only two keys to the front door, one belonging to Taekwoon and one belonging to Taekwoon’s roommate, Sanghyuk.
“How did you get in?” Taekwoon half asks half wonders aloud.
“Sanghyuk let me in,” Hakyeon murmurs against the side of Taekwoon’s neck. “I bribed him with chicken and a pack of cigarettes.”
It’s no secret that Sanghyuk thinks Hakyeon spends way too much time in their apartment. Taekwoon knows that Sanghyuk would dislike it less if Hakyeon hadn’t treated him like Sanghyuk was five years old and Hakyeon was his father. Despite not knowing Sanghyuk for that long, Hakyeon had taken an instant liking to him, clinging to him, hugging him and giving him kisses.
However, the times Hakyeon brings food or makes food, Sanghyuk loves him. In fact, Taekwoon doesn’t think he has seen Sanghyuk make himself proper food more than a couple of times during these nine months they’ve been roommates. Mostly it’s Taekwoon cooking for him, or making too much for his own dinner, filling a Tupperware box with the leftovers, leaving a subtle post-it note on the fridge door for Sanghyuk.
“You shouldn’t bribe him,” Taekwoon says, frowning even though Hakyeon can’t see him.
“Whatever he loves me,” Hakyeon replies. Taekwoon can almost hear him roll his eyes. “Now stop talking about Sanghyuk and cuddle me back.”
Taekwoon doesn’t even try to fight the smile that plays out on his lips. Before he settles down again, he pulls down the comforter further.
“Don’t. It’s cold,” Hakyeon complains, curling closer to Taekwoon.
“I want to see you,” Taekwoon murmurs softly, the tips of his ears red because he’s not this cheesy ever. But seeing Hakyeon like this, having him curled up against his own body, does something to Taekwoon.
Hakyeon remains silent for a while.
“Who are you, and what did you do to my Taekwoon?” he asks, clearly amused even though his voice is sluggish, slow.
In lieu of coming up with something to say, Taekwoon’s hands curls under Hakyeon’s chin, gently pulling him away from his neck until he’s able to see his face.
Hakyeon looks tired, eyelids heavy, dark bags under his eyes. Taekwoon runs his thumb over Hakyeon’s cheekbone; watches enamored how Hakyeon’s eyelashes flutters in response. Something hot, heavy surges in Taekwoon’s chest, warmth spreading out to the tips of his fingers, toes.
Taekwoon is cupping Hakyeon’s face in his large palms as they kiss. Hakyeon tastes like peppermint, like Taekwoon’s toothpaste.
Even as their lips brush, Taekwoon cannot not touch Hakyeon; lets his thumbs trace over the bridge of Hakyeon’s nose, trail over his eyelids, rub soothing circles over Hakyeon’s temples.
Hakyeon kisses back easily, his arms coming up to wrap around Taekwoon’s chest, bringing their bodies closer, aligned. Hakyeon’s body is getting warmer; the touch of his hands, legs against Taekwoon doesn’t feel as cold and unpleasant as it did earlier.
They’re both breathing shallowly when they pull away. Hakyeon’s eyes remain closed, and so Taekwoon leans forward, gently brushing his lips over each eyelid, feeling them flutter as he does.
Hakyeon’s bangs are soft, too, Taekwoon notices when he pulls Hakyeon’s bangs back to reveal his forehead. A soft sound of protest comes from Hakyeon, but he doesn’t make to stop Taekwoon. Gently, Taekwoon kisses Hakyeon’s forehead, feeling the warmth from Hakyeon’s body as he does.
Then, softly, quietly. “I love you, Hakyeon.”
Another soft gasp comes from Hakyeon. A hand fists in Taekwoon’s shirt, pushing him away before bringing him close again. Hakyeon kisses him feverishly, too intense for the moon and the moment, but Taekwoon lets him.
Taekwoon loses himself in the warmth, comfort, love of Hakyeon’s kiss, lets Hakyeon claim the air in his lungs, lets him kiss bruising kisses against his lips.
When Hakyeon pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, making them look bright, star-kissed.
“You,” Hakyeon says, voice half a laugh, half a sob. Taekwoon briefly wonders if he said something wrong when the most beautiful smile takes place on Hakyeon’s face. “You’re so silly, my Taekwoon.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but Hakyeon is there again, kissing him. It’s calmer, sweeter this time around. Just a brush of lips than anything else. Fingers trail over bare skin, hands cupping thighs, caressing, loving for an hour, an eternity.
"I love you too," brushes against his lips like a whisper.
Taekwoon doesn’t remember falling asleep.
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sobs thank you for reading ;;;;;