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writetomyheart2016-02-05 11:09 pm
softboys.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2016-02-05 11:09 pm
[team one] the man with the plan
posting yet another unfinished piece. OTL.
This was never how this was meant to go.
Junhwe’s plan to debut in an idol group and getting recognized as a singer in South Korea wasn’t meant to go like this.
When people talk about the difficulties that comes with debuting in a group, they’re usually talking about the hardships of not being able to see your family, the long, hard practice hours and the (sometimes) extreme dieting.
No one ever talks about falling in love with one of your fellow trainees and later bandmate. No one.
Needless to say, Junhwe had been unprepared for this series of unfortunate events that came with falling in love with an older, shorter fellow trainee who spoke in a dialect Junhwe found hard to understand in the beginning.
Junhwe is in no position to complain, however. He got to debut – eventually, under one of the biggest entertainment labels in South Korea. The perk of getting to debut with the object of his affections was also a big, fat plus in Junhwe’s book. Sometimes he wonders if he did something in his past life to get this lucky in his current life. Maybe he saved a cat down from a tree. Or something.
Not that Junhwe is complaining. No, not at all. He feels that would be rather hypocritical of him, especially when he has this tiny islander’s body pressed up against his own.
“Why are you thinking?” Jinhwan rasps against Junhwe’s lips. The deep levels of his voice sends small shivers through Junhwe’s body, the fine hairs on his body rising.
It’s late, or early depending on who you ask. Jinhwan and Junhwe are tucked away in the silence of Jinhwan’s single room. Getting to spend time with Jinhwan was a nightmare when he roomed with Hanbin and Bobby. Junhwe thanks every deity every night for Jinhwan’s single room.
“Junhwe!” Jinhwan hisses as he sits up, butt planted firmly over Junhwe’s crotch. Yep. Definitely a hero in his previous life. “If you wanted to sleep you shouldn’t have crawled into my bed and shoved your hands down my pants.”
Junhwe might have done that. It’s a privilege.
Still seated on his crotch, Jinhwan’s eyes narrow as he looks down at Junhwe, lips pursing. When mad, Jinhwan reminds Junhwe of a small feline. Cute, clawed.
“Get out,” Jinhwan says, punches Junhwe’s bare arm not too gently. There’s no bite in his words though so Junhwe stays – for now.
“Sorry,” Junhwe says, lifts his hands from the sheets, places them on Jinhwan’s sturdy thighs. His skin is smooth, warm under Junhwe’s cold fingers. He allows the tips of his fingers to slip just under the hem of Jinhwan’s Bart Simpson boxers. Under his palms, Jinhwan’s thighs tightens but he lets him.
“I was thinking,” Junhwe elaborates further. Jinhwan looks pleased.
“I know,” Jinhwan says immediately, his eyes soften. “You get this stony, constipated face when you do. It’s really unattractive.”
Junhwe does not pout.
“No, don’t make that face,” Jinhwan coos, runs his thumb over the swell of Junhwe’s bottom lip. Jinhwan’s thumb is calloused, rough against Junhwe’s lip. Impishly, Junhwe sticks his tongue out, licks at the pad of Jinhwan’s thumb. It’s salty.
A soft sigh comes from Jinhwan – the only warning Junhwe gets – before Jinhwan slips his index finger into Junhwe’s mouth. The motion is gentle, Junhwe is free to pull back if he desires; he doesn’t. He takes the challenge, curls his tongue around the digit, the way he sucks at is a crude imitation of something else Junhwe would like to do with his mouth.
Jinhwan watches, eyes dark. His pink lips are parted slightly; his bare chest rising and falling in time with his lungs. There’s a soft, pink flush covering Jinhwan’s chest, cheeks, ears. His auburn hair is falling into his face, bangs sticking slightly to his sweaty forehead. Only clad in a pair of boxers Jinhwan looks like a wet dream; Junhwe’s wet dream. There’s so much skin for Junhwe to look at, touch.
Carefully, Jinhwan inserts another finger into Junhwe’s mouth, presses the two digits together. The digits are heavy on Junhwe’s tongue, but he finds himself enjoying it. Closing his eyes, he exhales quietly through his nose and starts to suck.
Before long, Jinhwan abruptly removes his fingers from Junhwe’s mouth, curls the wet digits in the front of Junhwe’s shirt and pulls him up. Their lips meet in a rough clash of teeth and lips. It’s messy and borderline painful, but Junhwe can’t find it in him to complain when Jinhwan grinds down against Junhwe’s crotch and renders him speechless.
the floor is yours sweetest![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
springmaid.
This was never how this was meant to go.
Junhwe’s plan to debut in an idol group and getting recognized as a singer in South Korea wasn’t meant to go like this.
When people talk about the difficulties that comes with debuting in a group, they’re usually talking about the hardships of not being able to see your family, the long, hard practice hours and the (sometimes) extreme dieting.
No one ever talks about falling in love with one of your fellow trainees and later bandmate. No one.
Needless to say, Junhwe had been unprepared for this series of unfortunate events that came with falling in love with an older, shorter fellow trainee who spoke in a dialect Junhwe found hard to understand in the beginning.
Junhwe is in no position to complain, however. He got to debut – eventually, under one of the biggest entertainment labels in South Korea. The perk of getting to debut with the object of his affections was also a big, fat plus in Junhwe’s book. Sometimes he wonders if he did something in his past life to get this lucky in his current life. Maybe he saved a cat down from a tree. Or something.
Not that Junhwe is complaining. No, not at all. He feels that would be rather hypocritical of him, especially when he has this tiny islander’s body pressed up against his own.
“Why are you thinking?” Jinhwan rasps against Junhwe’s lips. The deep levels of his voice sends small shivers through Junhwe’s body, the fine hairs on his body rising.
It’s late, or early depending on who you ask. Jinhwan and Junhwe are tucked away in the silence of Jinhwan’s single room. Getting to spend time with Jinhwan was a nightmare when he roomed with Hanbin and Bobby. Junhwe thanks every deity every night for Jinhwan’s single room.
“Junhwe!” Jinhwan hisses as he sits up, butt planted firmly over Junhwe’s crotch. Yep. Definitely a hero in his previous life. “If you wanted to sleep you shouldn’t have crawled into my bed and shoved your hands down my pants.”
Junhwe might have done that. It’s a privilege.
Still seated on his crotch, Jinhwan’s eyes narrow as he looks down at Junhwe, lips pursing. When mad, Jinhwan reminds Junhwe of a small feline. Cute, clawed.
“Get out,” Jinhwan says, punches Junhwe’s bare arm not too gently. There’s no bite in his words though so Junhwe stays – for now.
“Sorry,” Junhwe says, lifts his hands from the sheets, places them on Jinhwan’s sturdy thighs. His skin is smooth, warm under Junhwe’s cold fingers. He allows the tips of his fingers to slip just under the hem of Jinhwan’s Bart Simpson boxers. Under his palms, Jinhwan’s thighs tightens but he lets him.
“I was thinking,” Junhwe elaborates further. Jinhwan looks pleased.
“I know,” Jinhwan says immediately, his eyes soften. “You get this stony, constipated face when you do. It’s really unattractive.”
Junhwe does not pout.
“No, don’t make that face,” Jinhwan coos, runs his thumb over the swell of Junhwe’s bottom lip. Jinhwan’s thumb is calloused, rough against Junhwe’s lip. Impishly, Junhwe sticks his tongue out, licks at the pad of Jinhwan’s thumb. It’s salty.
A soft sigh comes from Jinhwan – the only warning Junhwe gets – before Jinhwan slips his index finger into Junhwe’s mouth. The motion is gentle, Junhwe is free to pull back if he desires; he doesn’t. He takes the challenge, curls his tongue around the digit, the way he sucks at is a crude imitation of something else Junhwe would like to do with his mouth.
Jinhwan watches, eyes dark. His pink lips are parted slightly; his bare chest rising and falling in time with his lungs. There’s a soft, pink flush covering Jinhwan’s chest, cheeks, ears. His auburn hair is falling into his face, bangs sticking slightly to his sweaty forehead. Only clad in a pair of boxers Jinhwan looks like a wet dream; Junhwe’s wet dream. There’s so much skin for Junhwe to look at, touch.
Carefully, Jinhwan inserts another finger into Junhwe’s mouth, presses the two digits together. The digits are heavy on Junhwe’s tongue, but he finds himself enjoying it. Closing his eyes, he exhales quietly through his nose and starts to suck.
Before long, Jinhwan abruptly removes his fingers from Junhwe’s mouth, curls the wet digits in the front of Junhwe’s shirt and pulls him up. Their lips meet in a rough clash of teeth and lips. It’s messy and borderline painful, but Junhwe can’t find it in him to complain when Jinhwan grinds down against Junhwe’s crotch and renders him speechless.
the floor is yours sweetest
springmaid.