Pretence
Title : Pretence
Pairings: Yunjae
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: NC-17
Length: One-shot
Summary: Attempted angsty smut. I'm pretty sure that I failed. =X
Disclaimers: Not mine.
Pretence
Feathery light touches lingered on his toned body, from his defined chest to his sculpted abdominals, touching him, caressing him, loving him. It made his flawless alabaster skin burned in waves and waves of suffocating heat, it made his heartbeat accelerated and his breathing laboured, it made his most basic, most primal need surfaced and he moaned - a long, deep sound that reverberated in their shared room, making a groan which did not belong to him soon followed after. Those hands - warm and a little calloused, skilled and a little impatient - had felt so good on his feverish and heated smooth skin.
“Jaejoong-ah…”
A call of his name, he flinched - a shudder that wrecked through his body, starting from his lower neck making its way down his spine till it reached his very toe tips, making him pulled back a little from the man on top of him although he did not want to. And the involuntary shudder ended as abruptly as it first started, it was all gone in a sudden. Not with a signal, not with an indication. He was glad, more than glad to be precise. Wrapping his muscled arms around the tanned neck, he pulled the man back down, nipping and sucking and biting whatever piece of skin he could reach, revelling in the warmth in him and covering him and loving him, he was glad.
Just… don’t call my name.
The gradual movements of his hips never stopped, and he never wanted it to stop. Thrusting upwards, the sound of wet flesh colliding with wet flesh, the sound of protruding hip bones clanking with every forceful thrust, the sound of moans and groans that spilled out uncontrollably and the sound of wet slurping noises when they sucked on each other’s heated skin accompanied him as he met the other man’s thrusts again and again, wantonly allowing his lust to take control over his body, flagrantly allowing his body to react in the basest way. Another thrust. Oh yes, there! And he felt loved.
“Jaejoong…”
Don’t call my name!
He wanted to yell at the other man, to look at him straight in the eyes and to yell at him right in the face - don’t ever call my name when you’re making love to me. NO. But he did not do so, he had his reasons. And they were simple. His huge black eyes never had the fortitude to meet the pair of smaller brown and his larynx never had the intrepidity to yell out the lump lodged heavily at his throat. See? They were simple. He was a little gutless - pretty much like an invertebrate without a backbone - so he did not do whatever his heart told him to do. Not that he cared anyway. Especially not when his prostrate was struck yet again mercilessly for the umpteenth times, making every single nerve ends in his body tingling with pleasure, making him arched his back, showed his neck and moaned his gratitude. It was there, love was there. It HAD to be there.
Fingers were wandering again. From clutching his jet black hair - now all mussed up and spread out on the fluffy pillow - reaching down to trace his defined abs, pinching a perked nipple on their way, rolling the other, trailing further down, dipping into his bellybutton and finally, finally grabbed his erection and started to pump. Oh god, yes! Another moan slipped past his plump lips, a little louder and a lot more wanton than the previous ones. And he did not give a damn about feeling embarrassed. The fingers that wrapped snugly around his member had felt good, so very good. Calloused ends of the slim fingertips caressed his sensitised skin with light touches, the extra stimulation was very much appreciated even though he really did not need any more of that right now, seeing that he was already aroused enough at he was.
“Jae…”
DON’T FUCKING CALL MY NAME!
Again, that was just a little tantrum that he secretly threw in his subconscious mind. He had established the fact that he would not, not in a lifetime, have the guts to yell at the man, his leader, his friend not to fucking call his name whenever he made love to him. Noted the word made love? Yes. It would not be just sex between the two of them - at least he refused to believe that. It was impossible. Love had to be there somewhere. He was just too blind to see it, that’s why he had to pretend. Pretend that every single touch was love, every single moan was love and every single thrust was love. It HAD to be. It simply had to be.
Ergo, he hated it when Yunho called his name - the voice hoarse and husky because of arousal, the tone panting and seducing because of exertion. He totally hated it. And the reason was again, simple. He could not pretend. He could not pretend that the familiar voice that called his name in all its sexy glory had any love in it - because it did not. The voice, aside from being hoarse and alluring, was exactly the same as the voice that Yunho used when he called anyone else. Perhaps there was a little more solicitude and care reserved for him, as a close friend, as a band member, but that was all he could squint, nothing else. So he hated it. Hated it as the voice always broke his pretence, slapping him back to reality, telling him that this thing among them, whatever it was, was NOT love.
“Jaejoong… Jae…”
Fuck you.
Too tired to make a scene in his subconscious mind, too aroused to force love out of every single action, he chose ignorance - as he was told that ignorance was bliss. Surprisingly, it was true. Moaning, he dug his blunt fingernails into the broad back and felt for the muscles that shifted under his palms with every sharp movement. He was close, so very close that he chose to shut down his mind along with his ears and feigned ignorance. Excellent choice indeed, he thought, letting lust did the entire job and locked his over-thinking mind in somewhere else before he orgasmed. And then he felt it. He felt the warmth that coated his inner passage in a surge, the warmth that caused him to spill his seed along with a ragged, broken moan, his back arching and his knuckles white from gripping the sheets. See? Warm. It had to be love.
“I’m sorry, Jae. I’m so sorry…”
NO I don’t want your sorry.
Placating kisses descended on him, peppering on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, his hands, his everywhere but never his lips. He was suddenly very tired, as if his life force was sucked dry out of him and that had nothing to do with the fact that he just orgasmed, at all.
“Don’t cry…”
A thumb wiped away his tears, the action so tender and benign that he saw that as love again. Oh wait, so he was crying? Since when?
“I’m sorry I can’t love you like that, I’m so sorry…”
SHUT UP!
Of course, he did not yell out. That was just a little agenda that happened in his very colourful subconscious mind. In the reality, he simply nodded and replied with his very soft, distinctive and almost caressing voice. “I know. It’s okay.”
It’s NOT okay.
“You’re crying, Jae.”
He had noticed that for quite some time now, thankyouverymuch. But still, he managed a small smile, just a slight upturned at the corners of his full, pink lips as he spoke, voice again soft and gentle. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
I’m NOT okay.
A sigh, sad and tired, and he knew it was not from him. Warm fingers were swiping his tousled fringe away from his forehead, rubbing soothing circles on his forearm, tracing purpling love marks that marred his pale skin and thumbing his pinkish cheek so tenderly that he had to read that as love. No question asked.
“Sleep?”
Hearing the best suggestion throughout the night, he nodded. Strong arms circled around him, pulling him close to a chiseled chest without any warnings and the steady heartbeat that thumped beside his ear became a lullaby for him - a lullaby which did not have any melody, but still equally beautiful. Warm and soothing hands were rubbing his back and arms, pressing a little harder whenever they reached his lower back and the comfortable sensation slowly lulled him into sleep, with a couple of stubborn tears rolled down his cheeks occasionally under his closed lids and fluttering eyelashes.
Drifting between asleep and awake, he vaguely thought that he was really grateful for Yunho’s understanding silence. Because as for now, he could at least pretend that he was in his lover’s arms - strong and protective, soothing and loving - and that was all he needed to be happy. He could live the rest of his life by cheating himself and he was absolutely alright with it.
As long as he could see love in everything that Yunho did for him.
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A/N: I’m so stressed out by finals so I decided to write something and this was the result. = =’’ Review, pretty please? =D