[Fic - KyuWook] Hold on Tight
Ryeowook was not usually a clumsy person. Actually, he liked to think that he had his feet firmly planted on the ground. He wasn’t the one who knocked over shelves, dropped dishes or broke glasses. That was Donghae or Henry- not him.
So maybe it was that cautiousness that told him to hold the cup that little bit tighter as he picked it up from the coffee table (which was covered with magazines and candy wrappers and something in a colourful, small, square package- Ryeowook looked away quickly). Or maybe it was the way Kyuhyun called his name, almost singing it so that it fluttered into the air and flopped down on top of the dog-eared magazines, where it grinned up at him in the teasing, mischievous way he knew mirrored the one on Kyuhyun’s perfectly smooth face. Either way, Ryeowook was weary when he straightened up and glanced at the other male sprawled out on the couch. He kept the cup clutched firmly in his hand.
Kyuhyun stared back, his gaze arrogant and didn’t he look kingly, laying there with one long leg bent at the knee and the other slinking down onto the floor, an arm resting delicately across his flat stomach- and Ryeowook was staring. He resisted the urge to look down at the floor in embarrassment and instead bravely met Kyuhyun’s darkly amused eyes with his own incredulously raised brow. He didn’t like how it made the singer’s smirk twist into something more of a leer.
If Ryeowook had spider senses, they would be tingling. Call it intuition, but whatever Kyuhyun was going to say next, he knew he wouldn’t like it.
“Kiss me.”
Ryeowook hated when he was right. It was a good thing he had that firm grip on the cup in his hand; otherwise it would have slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor along with his jaw. His mouth worked, opened and closed (a very good fish impersonation that only made Kyuhyun grin wider) and he stuttered out incoherent syllables that were an embarrassing mix of Chinese, Korean and gibberish. Finally, his mind put itself back together enough for him to spit out:
“What?”
But Kyuhyun simply looked at him in a way that made Ryeowook want to cover himself even though he knew he was fully dressed (that didn’t stop him from checking). He wanted to get angry, be offended, disgusted or something, but Kyuhyun was all dark, dark eyes and long legs and annoyingly arrogant amusement and smirking and Ryeowook found himself blushing instead of yelling.
“Wh-why?” he demanded (it came out more like a squeak), incredulous, embarrassed and filled with something that made his hands sweat and heart pound and clothes much too hot.
Kyuhyun shrugged, a slow, lazy movement.
“Why not?” was the singer’s retort.
It was so flippant and casual that something in Ryeowook snapped. His eye gave an impressive twitch (something that seemed to happen when he was under stress- like that time when Donghae took Henry to a strip bar and- just thinking about it threatened to send his whole body into a spasm) and he threw his arms in the air, the cup still safe in his hand.
“How could you say that, just out of nowhere? It’s-”
“Tempting?” Kyuhyun suggested, sliding from the couch to his feet in one languid movement that had Ryeowook staring. Kyuhyun’s dark eyes never left his as he slinked towards him. Ryeowook unconsciously took a step back, then another and another until his back hit the wall with a thump as loud as his pounding heart.
The other singer was leaning over him, a chuckle bubbling past full lips (that Ryeowook couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from) so close that Ryeowook felt it. Suddenly the air was too hot and his pants too tight and what the hell was happening?
Kyuhyun was looking at him patiently, waiting. Ryeowook realized that he hadn’t answered (instead, he had been staring, all wide eyed and red faced and acting like some high school girl).
“Kyuhyun-” they were inches apart now, breaths mingling, chests pressed together. Kyuhyun’s lips brushed his, a whisper of touch but it left him gasping none the less.
Kyuhyun was much too smug.
“Well?” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. Ryeowook felt it just as much as he heard it.
Kyuhyun’s lips twisted into a smirk and Ryeowook mentally cursed because the other male knew he had him, had known from the very moment he opened his damned mouth.
His mouth that was hovering just beyond Ryeowook’s reach. All the singer had to do was lean a little bit forward (it would be so easy, so easy and Kyuhyun’s eyes had never been darker, filled with something Ryeowook only now had a name for- lust, desire, want and he knew it reflected his eyes as well).
And then he was moving, closing the distance, his heart pounding a loud bass in his ears. Their lips met, soft at first, lighting a slow, burning fire in Ryeowook’s chest. A wanting, needing (moremoremore).
Then Kyuhyun took over and it was all Ryeowook could do to keep himself from sliding down the wall. He didn’t notice that the glass was gone until he had both hands tangled in Kyuhyun’s black hair. The other singer must have taken it away from him, but he couldn’t remember when.
And he found that he didn’t care. Not with Kyuhyun’s lips on his and he was pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until his toes curled. Kyuhyun let out a low moan and pressed Ryeowook against the wall, his arms winding around his small waist, bringing their hips together in a sudden, pleasure-spiking jerk.
It was completely random, this kiss. Completely random and entirely ridiculous and they really should stop, but God did it feel good (mind bogglingly right, so much so that Ryeowook wondered: how else could it have happened?).
The young singer was snapped out of his thoughts as one of Kyuhyun’s hands slipped under his shirt to trail hot fire down his back, down, down, down until it found leverage on his ass, bringing him even closer. Ryeowook threw his head back, his back arching and lips gasping. Kyuhyun took advantage of his bared throat, brushing his mouth down his neck to his shoulder, biting, licking the skin there. Ryeowook let out a breathy moan and thrust his hips forward, grinding their cocks together and panting at the feel of Kyuhyun’s hardness against his. He gave a small cry and could feel Kyuhyun’s answering groan against his throat.
Their movements became frantic, almost desperate in their need for more. Ryeowook’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Kyuhyun’s shirt. He was nearly ready to simply rip the offending thing off when he finally got the buttons opened. He pushed the dark fabric out of the way and let his hands roam across the other singer’s chest.
Kyuhyun was not idle while he was undressed. Not even bothering to remove any clothing, the dark haired Korean simply popped open the button of Ryeowook’s pants and shoved his hands inside. His fingers curled deliciously around the hardness he found there, growling lowly as Ryeowook gave a throaty moan.
Ryeowook’s hands were in Kyuhyun’s hair again, pulling the other up to crush their lips together once again. Ryeowook couldn’t think, not with Kyuhyun’s hands working up and down his hardened shaft, circling at the tip, making his hips jerk and knees tremble.
“Kyuhyun…” he gasped, his head hitting the wall behind him as the other singer latched onto his throat (a weak spot he never knew he had). “Aah…”
He distantly heard a door open far off, but ignored it. Instead, he slipped his own hand underneath the loose band of Kyuhyun’s sweats to cup the answering hardness there. Kyuhyun faltered in his own ministrations, his breath coming out in a guttural groan against Ryeowook’s ear. He thrust into Ryeowook’s hand, his mind clearing just enough for him to start pumping the other’s cock in quick, fast strokes.
Ryeowook was beyond thought now. He used his one free hand to push off Kyuhyun’s shirt, which was already hanging half off over one pale shoulder. The garment fell noiselessly to the floor and was forgotten. Kyuhyun tugged at Ryeowook’s t-shirt (which, luckily, had no annoying buttons). Ryeowook let go of him (for one second, but he heard Kyuhyun’s quiet groan of want) to throw it off, his hands immediately finding their way back into Kyuhyun’s pants (which were going to be the next thing to go).
But then voices were in the hallway, much too close and too loud to ignore now, even with the lust pounding in his ears. Ryeowook froze, panting, hoping and praying that whoever it was wouldn’t catch them.
“Ignore them.” Kyuhyun moaned, thrusting his cock against Ryeowook’s still hand. “Just ignore them, hyung.”
But that was Henry coming down the hall, with Donghae close behind. Innocent Henry and Ryeowook just couldn’t risk it. He pushed Kyuhyun away, regretting every inch that separated them.
“We can’t…” he whispered, his words husky with want.
Kyuhyun wouldn’t be deterred, though. He swept in again to crush his mouth against Ryeowook’s, twine their tongues together. When he pulled away, the smirk was back and there was a mischievous glint to his leering eyes.
“Bedroom?” he asked, already moving away, his hand wrapped around Ryeowook’s wrist and pulling him from the wall in the direction of their rooms.
And, just like with the kiss, Ryeowook couldn’t say no.
End
So maybe it was that cautiousness that told him to hold the cup that little bit tighter as he picked it up from the coffee table (which was covered with magazines and candy wrappers and something in a colourful, small, square package- Ryeowook looked away quickly). Or maybe it was the way Kyuhyun called his name, almost singing it so that it fluttered into the air and flopped down on top of the dog-eared magazines, where it grinned up at him in the teasing, mischievous way he knew mirrored the one on Kyuhyun’s perfectly smooth face. Either way, Ryeowook was weary when he straightened up and glanced at the other male sprawled out on the couch. He kept the cup clutched firmly in his hand.
Kyuhyun stared back, his gaze arrogant and didn’t he look kingly, laying there with one long leg bent at the knee and the other slinking down onto the floor, an arm resting delicately across his flat stomach- and Ryeowook was staring. He resisted the urge to look down at the floor in embarrassment and instead bravely met Kyuhyun’s darkly amused eyes with his own incredulously raised brow. He didn’t like how it made the singer’s smirk twist into something more of a leer.
If Ryeowook had spider senses, they would be tingling. Call it intuition, but whatever Kyuhyun was going to say next, he knew he wouldn’t like it.
“Kiss me.”
Ryeowook hated when he was right. It was a good thing he had that firm grip on the cup in his hand; otherwise it would have slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor along with his jaw. His mouth worked, opened and closed (a very good fish impersonation that only made Kyuhyun grin wider) and he stuttered out incoherent syllables that were an embarrassing mix of Chinese, Korean and gibberish. Finally, his mind put itself back together enough for him to spit out:
“What?”
But Kyuhyun simply looked at him in a way that made Ryeowook want to cover himself even though he knew he was fully dressed (that didn’t stop him from checking). He wanted to get angry, be offended, disgusted or something, but Kyuhyun was all dark, dark eyes and long legs and annoyingly arrogant amusement and smirking and Ryeowook found himself blushing instead of yelling.
“Wh-why?” he demanded (it came out more like a squeak), incredulous, embarrassed and filled with something that made his hands sweat and heart pound and clothes much too hot.
Kyuhyun shrugged, a slow, lazy movement.
“Why not?” was the singer’s retort.
It was so flippant and casual that something in Ryeowook snapped. His eye gave an impressive twitch (something that seemed to happen when he was under stress- like that time when Donghae took Henry to a strip bar and- just thinking about it threatened to send his whole body into a spasm) and he threw his arms in the air, the cup still safe in his hand.
“How could you say that, just out of nowhere? It’s-”
“Tempting?” Kyuhyun suggested, sliding from the couch to his feet in one languid movement that had Ryeowook staring. Kyuhyun’s dark eyes never left his as he slinked towards him. Ryeowook unconsciously took a step back, then another and another until his back hit the wall with a thump as loud as his pounding heart.
The other singer was leaning over him, a chuckle bubbling past full lips (that Ryeowook couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from) so close that Ryeowook felt it. Suddenly the air was too hot and his pants too tight and what the hell was happening?
Kyuhyun was looking at him patiently, waiting. Ryeowook realized that he hadn’t answered (instead, he had been staring, all wide eyed and red faced and acting like some high school girl).
“Kyuhyun-” they were inches apart now, breaths mingling, chests pressed together. Kyuhyun’s lips brushed his, a whisper of touch but it left him gasping none the less.
Kyuhyun was much too smug.
“Well?” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. Ryeowook felt it just as much as he heard it.
Kyuhyun’s lips twisted into a smirk and Ryeowook mentally cursed because the other male knew he had him, had known from the very moment he opened his damned mouth.
His mouth that was hovering just beyond Ryeowook’s reach. All the singer had to do was lean a little bit forward (it would be so easy, so easy and Kyuhyun’s eyes had never been darker, filled with something Ryeowook only now had a name for- lust, desire, want and he knew it reflected his eyes as well).
And then he was moving, closing the distance, his heart pounding a loud bass in his ears. Their lips met, soft at first, lighting a slow, burning fire in Ryeowook’s chest. A wanting, needing (moremoremore).
Then Kyuhyun took over and it was all Ryeowook could do to keep himself from sliding down the wall. He didn’t notice that the glass was gone until he had both hands tangled in Kyuhyun’s black hair. The other singer must have taken it away from him, but he couldn’t remember when.
And he found that he didn’t care. Not with Kyuhyun’s lips on his and he was pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until his toes curled. Kyuhyun let out a low moan and pressed Ryeowook against the wall, his arms winding around his small waist, bringing their hips together in a sudden, pleasure-spiking jerk.
It was completely random, this kiss. Completely random and entirely ridiculous and they really should stop, but God did it feel good (mind bogglingly right, so much so that Ryeowook wondered: how else could it have happened?).
The young singer was snapped out of his thoughts as one of Kyuhyun’s hands slipped under his shirt to trail hot fire down his back, down, down, down until it found leverage on his ass, bringing him even closer. Ryeowook threw his head back, his back arching and lips gasping. Kyuhyun took advantage of his bared throat, brushing his mouth down his neck to his shoulder, biting, licking the skin there. Ryeowook let out a breathy moan and thrust his hips forward, grinding their cocks together and panting at the feel of Kyuhyun’s hardness against his. He gave a small cry and could feel Kyuhyun’s answering groan against his throat.
Their movements became frantic, almost desperate in their need for more. Ryeowook’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Kyuhyun’s shirt. He was nearly ready to simply rip the offending thing off when he finally got the buttons opened. He pushed the dark fabric out of the way and let his hands roam across the other singer’s chest.
Kyuhyun was not idle while he was undressed. Not even bothering to remove any clothing, the dark haired Korean simply popped open the button of Ryeowook’s pants and shoved his hands inside. His fingers curled deliciously around the hardness he found there, growling lowly as Ryeowook gave a throaty moan.
Ryeowook’s hands were in Kyuhyun’s hair again, pulling the other up to crush their lips together once again. Ryeowook couldn’t think, not with Kyuhyun’s hands working up and down his hardened shaft, circling at the tip, making his hips jerk and knees tremble.
“Kyuhyun…” he gasped, his head hitting the wall behind him as the other singer latched onto his throat (a weak spot he never knew he had). “Aah…”
He distantly heard a door open far off, but ignored it. Instead, he slipped his own hand underneath the loose band of Kyuhyun’s sweats to cup the answering hardness there. Kyuhyun faltered in his own ministrations, his breath coming out in a guttural groan against Ryeowook’s ear. He thrust into Ryeowook’s hand, his mind clearing just enough for him to start pumping the other’s cock in quick, fast strokes.
Ryeowook was beyond thought now. He used his one free hand to push off Kyuhyun’s shirt, which was already hanging half off over one pale shoulder. The garment fell noiselessly to the floor and was forgotten. Kyuhyun tugged at Ryeowook’s t-shirt (which, luckily, had no annoying buttons). Ryeowook let go of him (for one second, but he heard Kyuhyun’s quiet groan of want) to throw it off, his hands immediately finding their way back into Kyuhyun’s pants (which were going to be the next thing to go).
But then voices were in the hallway, much too close and too loud to ignore now, even with the lust pounding in his ears. Ryeowook froze, panting, hoping and praying that whoever it was wouldn’t catch them.
“Ignore them.” Kyuhyun moaned, thrusting his cock against Ryeowook’s still hand. “Just ignore them, hyung.”
But that was Henry coming down the hall, with Donghae close behind. Innocent Henry and Ryeowook just couldn’t risk it. He pushed Kyuhyun away, regretting every inch that separated them.
“We can’t…” he whispered, his words husky with want.
Kyuhyun wouldn’t be deterred, though. He swept in again to crush his mouth against Ryeowook’s, twine their tongues together. When he pulled away, the smirk was back and there was a mischievous glint to his leering eyes.
“Bedroom?” he asked, already moving away, his hand wrapped around Ryeowook’s wrist and pulling him from the wall in the direction of their rooms.
And, just like with the kiss, Ryeowook couldn’t say no.
End