Bench Dream
Title: Bench Dream
Length: One-shot
Pairing: MinChun, bff!YooSu
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Yoochun thinks he should stop dreaming about sex with his favourite idol. It's never going to happen. Right?
warnings: rough sex, underage sex (but you can imagine he's legal if you want to)
For abcdefghiluvyou ♥ I'm sorry it's late ;_;
My new schedule wants to kill me .____.
I hope I can update chaptered fics this weekend.
“I bet you stroke off to their music videos.”
“Shut up, Junsu.”
“I bet you read fanfiction about him.”
“Shut up, Junsu. We’re in the library.”
“Wait.. you don’t write fanfiction about him, do you?”
“...”
“Oh my god, no way! Do you pretend to be a girl so you won’t get a bunch of them stalking you saying what a cute little fanboy you are? Does your username contain a euphemism for penis and his stage name? Do you- OW!”
Junsu rubbed the back of his head and Yoochun tried to find the right page in his textbook again.
“Will you shut up already? No, I don’t write fanfiction about him, I just thought I’d give ignoring you a try. Seems that doesn’t work either.”
“Hah! You didn’t deny that you do read it!”
“I don’t read it.”
Yoochun ignored whatever Junsu said next and tried to focus on his homework, which was really a lost case. He could never ever keep his thoughts from running back to Changmin.
No, he didn’t like to read fanfiction. But that was because in 90% of the stories out there, Changmin was paired with Yunho. Which was not surprising at all since they were a music duo and the hints at them being together in real life were far from subtle.
But he didn’t want to imagine Yunho’s naked body in Changmin’s oh so delicious, strong, muscled arms. That was where he wanted to be.
The next thing Junsu said was impossible to tune out.
“He fucks Yunho, you know.” Junsu giggled at his own lame word play.
“He doesn’t.” Yoochun didn’t know why he kept denying it. If Changmin wasn’t fucking Yunho then he was fucking someone else. There was no way he couldn’t find someone to worship his abs and suck his undoubtedly huge cock every night.
Junsu poked his cheek. “You’re blushing, so cute.”
Yoochun shoved him away. “Don’t you have homework?”
Really, teasing him about his crush on a celebrity seemed to be Junsu’s favourite way to procrastinate, and then Junsu said Yoochun didn’t have a life.
“Are you thinking about him right now? Are you getting hard?”
Yoochun shoved all the books on the table in his bag and stood up. He was at the door of the library when Junsu called his name and he was at the gate when Junsu finally caught up with him. It was dark outside.
“Chunnie, I’m sorry,” Junsu leaned against him, panting. “It’s just so funny to see you fanboy all over that guy.”
“I’m glad I manage to amuse you.”
“I’m really sorry. Finals stress me out, is that a good excuse?”
“Pay for my coffee tomorrow.”
Junsu smiled. “Deal.” He yawned. “I should really get some sleep.”
“Me too, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow in the middle of a huge pile of books from hell.”
Yoochun actually smiled a little and Junsu looked proud as he waved and went the other direction.
His crush was pathetic. Yoochun pulled his jacked closer around his body as he walked through the park.
The park was a very scary place at night, but Yoochun always took this route home no matter what time it was. This was the park where Changmin had been spotted a few times by fans, and the rumour that he lived around here was so strong that Yoochun’s heart beat faster every time he walked through it.
Pathetic.
Yoochun shivered at both the cold and a foreign sound and pulled his iPod out of his backpack.
He almost considered playing one of the few albums on there that didn’t have Changmin’s perfect voice, but he had to survive the park right now, that was a good excuse.
He chose one of Changmin’s solos, because he hated listening to Yunho - for the wrong reasons - and blasted the dark and scary away.
It was maybe after twenty more steps that he noticed that he was singing along, and imagining how Changmin’s sweaty body moved to the beat, and that he was getting hard.
He pulled the buds out of his ears and kicked a bench. The bench didn’t even care enough to hurt his foot.
“I have to get rid of this crush, I will,” he told the bench, or himself. Neither seemed convinced.
The silence was scarier than ever and Yoochun kept talking out loud to fight it.
“I can’t just keep stroking off to thoughts of Shim fucking Changmin for the rest of my life. I should find a boyfriend, someone my own age, and someone I’d actually have a chance at having sex with, ever. Oh, and the love thing too.”
The bench didn’t say anything. Yoochun imagined that it was Junsu and then it laughed at him, so he quit that.
“I bet you’ve seen him.” Yoochun didn’t feel like a crazy person talking to a bench. Hoping that Changmin would ever have sex with him, now that was insane, lower a chance than this bench actually talking back.
“I bet he sat on you and you felt his muscled thighs. You know what, I’m not even that greedy, my dream isn’t to feel his thighs, I’d already be happy if he’d look at me while pulling his sexy face. I could stroke off to that for weeks.”
Yoochun wasn’t sure how he’d gone from trying to convince himself to get over this to being jealous of a bench. He kicked it again and did hurt his foot this time.
“Fuck you!” he shouted, a lot more to himself than to the bench, so he added a “Fuck me!” for good measure. He turned around and stepped right into a warm, hard body.
“My pleasure,” a voice said just above his head.
Yoochun’s heart had stopped the moment he realised someone had heard him, his body frozen. He was afraid to look up. Only after a while he realised what the other had said.
“W-what?” His head shot up.
If his heart hadn’t stopped beating already, it would definitely have now.
Right in front of him was the tall body of Shim Changmin, who was looking down at him with amusement in his eyes but an otherwise straight face.
At this point Yoochun was convinced that he’d died and gone to heaven, or ended up in a movie, or that this was a dream.
He watched with wide eyes as Changmin’s lips parted, slowly, and he pressed his teeth into the side of the bottom one while his eyes narrowed a bit.
Yoochun felt his body heat up. He hoped he wasn’t drooling.
When Changmin’s expression suddenly changed back and he started talking, Yoochun almost gasped in surprise.
“There, I made your dream come true, now you have to give me something in return.”
Yoochun opened his mouth to say something, but he had no idea what.
Changmin clearly lost his patience and stepped forward, even closer.
Yoochun instinctively moved back, but suddenly there was an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against Changmin’s body.
“First,” Changmin said into his ear, voice husky, “I want you to help me warm my hands.”
The hand holding him close found its way into his shirt. Yoochun gasped as icy fingers moved over his side. He hardly noticed the fingers of another hand opening his pants, but he noticed when they slipped into his boxers and wrapped around his cock.
He whimpered, because of the cold, and because of everything about this. What was happening? He wanted to push this man - was it really Changmin? - away, but he couldn't.
Soon enough, Changmin had coaxed his cock to hardness despite the cold, and his hand was tugging on the now heated erection, too rough. Yoochun opened his mouth again, but he still wasn’t able to form words. He squeezed his eyes shut and his knees buckled.
Changmin’s arm held him up. The hand disappeared and Yoochun heard Changmin spit on it. When it was back its touch was slicker, even more like torture but in another way. Yoochun moaned and sagged completely against the tall body in front of him.
It felt so real.
Changmin’s hand slowed and Yoochun whimpered. He bucked his hips forward when fingers moved over the sensitive head of his cock, thumbing the slit. He leaned heavily on Changmin, fingers digging into the man’s shoulders, and panted against his chest.
Changmin’s chuckle vibrated over Yoochun’s skin. “Cute,” Changmin commented as he moved a hand to Yoochun’s chin to lift his face. “I want you to warm my dick next.”
Yoochun’s last completely coherent thought was that Junsu would never believe this.
Changmin’s hand slid out of his boxers and Yoochun whined, automatically. He cut off his whine when Changmin’s slick thumb slid over and between his lips. Yoochun tasted himself at the tip of his tongue.
When Changmin was done with what had seemed to be inspecting Yoochun’s lips, he turned around and pushed Yoochun down as he sat on the bench. Yoochun fell to his knees immediately, already dizzy from that little spin, but probably more from his still achingly hard erection.
He closed his eyes to clear his head - without much success - and when he opened them again there was a cock in front of his face. It was only half hard, but already impressively long and thick. Changmin’s hand stroked it lazily.
Yoochun’s brain couldn’t warn him about what was going to happen before Changmin fisted his hair and pulled him forward. Yoochun closed his eyes at the sting on his head and gasped. Something warm and soft and slick nudged his bottom lip and then slid over it, into his mouth.
The fingers in his hair tightened their grip and Changmin pulled him forward and pushed him back so quickly that Yoochun didn’t even have time to start gagging before the head of Changmin’s cock had left his throat again.
But Changmin immediately pushed back in and this time Yoochun did gag around him, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
Changmin paused for a moment, his cock still in Yoochun’s mouth but not all the way. It had swollen and now stretched Yoochun’s lips. Changmin cupped his face and Yoochun used the moment to suck in much needed oxygen through his nose.
“I knew these lips would look pretty around my cock.” Changmin’s thumb slid through the saliva dribbling from a corner of Yoochun’s mouth. “Wet it good, pretty boy, it’s all the lubrication you’ll get.”
Yoochun’s fingers squeezed Changmin’s thighs at those words. Something in the back of his mind shouted ‘Changmin is going to fuck you! Changmin!’, but Changmin pulled his head down and bucked his hips up at the same time and Yoochun had to focus on breathing.
When Changmin slowed to choose a different angle, Yoochun noticed that his breathing was heavier than before as well. Yoochun’s tongue seemed paralysed, but he eventually managed to get it to slide over the underside of Changmin’s erection. Changmin moaned above him and Yoochun hoped that it meant he was doing something good.
“Enough,” Changmin suddenly said. His now slippery, rock hard cock slid out from between Yoochun’s lips, but when Yoochun moved his tongue, he tasted the tangy flavour that cock had left everywhere in his mouth.
Changmin pulled him up and pushed him until he was kneeling on the bench. Yoochun went willingly. There were tears in his eyes from Changmin’s rough fucking of his throat, but the thought that this was what he’d dreamed of - in the dreams he’d secretly longed for the most - had always been present in his mind. That was probably why he was still hard.
Changmin yanked his boxers down and hummed in approval when he reached around him and found a leaking erection.
“Hold on to something.” Yoochun could hear Changmin’s smirk in his voice. He was already holding onto the back of the bench, so he just tightened his grip.
Changmin pulled one of his ass cheeks to the side, spreading him open with one hand. The slick, warm head of his cock pressed against Yoochun’s hole.
Yoochun’s eyes widened and he bit his lip. Changmin snapped his hips forward, breaching him, pushing him open and scraping over his walls. Yoochun bit through his lip before he screamed.
Changmin reached for his cock again and grabbed it, squeezing. Hundreds of different sensations seemed to attack Yoochun’s body at once. He was shaking.
“Stroke yourself.” Changmin’s voice was strained.
Yoochun let go of the bench with one trembling hand and brought it down to his cock. His mouth fell open when he wrapped his fingers around it and he moaned.
He could feel Changmin decide that he’d waited long enough and worried about being slammed into the back of the bench, until Changmin’s fingers grabbed his hips, digging into his skin. Those would keep him in place.
They did. Changmin pulled him back a little with every thrust as he started to ram into him, but most of the movement came from his own hips. The pace was brutal.
Yoochun cried out and moaned and screamed and didn’t care if he was drooling or not. His hand flew over his throbbing cock. He gasped when it twitched.
Maybe he should have warned Changmin, but he had no idea how when his voice seemed stuck in his throat. His convulsing body had to do the talking.
It was dark around them but Yoochun only saw blinding white as he covered the bench in come. His body wanted to give up right after, but Changmin was still holding him and pounding into his abused hole. Yoochun whimpered and moaned and tried not to faceplant against the back of the bench.
“Fuck.” It was all Changmin said as he pulled Yoochun back onto his cock a few final times, skin slapping on skin. He groaned and stilled, pressed completely inside.
Yoochun slumped down, against the back of the bench before sliding further down and lying more or less stretched out. Something wet trickled over his thighs and although he knew it was saliva, blood or come, he felt surprisingly happy and sated, his mind like a fuzzy cloud.
He opened his eyes when someone shook him. He could feel that his boxers and pants were pulled up and closed already.
“I have to go, but I must say not bad, kid.”
Yoochun groaned, trying to figure out what Changmin just said.
“It’s cold out here, you might want to go home before falling asleep.”
Yoochun took a break from trying to keep his eyes open and nodded. The next moment he felt, and knew, that Changmin was gone.
He sat up, almost falling back down again at the soreness that spread through his body like fire, or a knife, a knife on fire.
His bag was at his feet and he picked it up before taking on the challenge that was trying to stand up, and then trying to take a few steps.
After an hour full of challenges like that and forcing himself to keep his mind blank, Yoochun had managed to drag himself home.
He fell asleep immediately and it seemed only seconds later that he was forced to move again - to hit his alarm until it shut up - and noticed that the soreness hadn’t left, definitely not.
He was still afraid to reflect, afraid to think about this and realise that it had been a dream after all. Or that it had been real but that he hadn't done everything he’d wanted and that he’d regret wasting a perfect opportunity to do what he had wanted for the rest of his life.
It was the only reason he was in the library as early as usual. He’d figured that keeping himself busy would stop his mind from wandering, conveniently ignoring the fact that it never had before.
Junsu sat down next to him, holding two cups of coffee. Yoochun shot him a grateful look.
It was only shortly after they’d finished their first coffee and cursed about fifteen teachers and subjects and books, that Junsu said: “So, which music video did you stroke off to last night?”
Yoochun dropped his forehead on the table and stared at the floor. Junsu wasn’t making this easier.
Should he just tell him? He was his best friend after all. But Junsu would probably laugh at what a bad fan he was. He had no proof whatsoever that what happened really happened.
Did it?
Yoochun closed his eyes and sighed. Above him, Junsu rattled on about fanfiction and certain mangas.
When he opened his eyes again his gaze fell on his bag, and stayed there, because he thought he’d seen a dark stain.
That bag was expensive and just new. He pulled it close and hoped he wouldn’t find a permanent marker without a cap in there.
He inspected the side of his bag. The ‘stain’ was indeed caused by a permanent marker. But it was also Changmin’s autograph.
Length: One-shot
Pairing: MinChun, bff!YooSu
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Yoochun thinks he should stop dreaming about sex with his favourite idol. It's never going to happen. Right?
warnings: rough sex, underage sex (but you can imagine he's legal if you want to)
For abcdefghiluvyou ♥ I'm sorry it's late ;_;
My new schedule wants to kill me .____.
I hope I can update chaptered fics this weekend.
“I bet you stroke off to their music videos.”
“Shut up, Junsu.”
“I bet you read fanfiction about him.”
“Shut up, Junsu. We’re in the library.”
“Wait.. you don’t write fanfiction about him, do you?”
“...”
“Oh my god, no way! Do you pretend to be a girl so you won’t get a bunch of them stalking you saying what a cute little fanboy you are? Does your username contain a euphemism for penis and his stage name? Do you- OW!”
Junsu rubbed the back of his head and Yoochun tried to find the right page in his textbook again.
“Will you shut up already? No, I don’t write fanfiction about him, I just thought I’d give ignoring you a try. Seems that doesn’t work either.”
“Hah! You didn’t deny that you do read it!”
“I don’t read it.”
Yoochun ignored whatever Junsu said next and tried to focus on his homework, which was really a lost case. He could never ever keep his thoughts from running back to Changmin.
No, he didn’t like to read fanfiction. But that was because in 90% of the stories out there, Changmin was paired with Yunho. Which was not surprising at all since they were a music duo and the hints at them being together in real life were far from subtle.
But he didn’t want to imagine Yunho’s naked body in Changmin’s oh so delicious, strong, muscled arms. That was where he wanted to be.
The next thing Junsu said was impossible to tune out.
“He fucks Yunho, you know.” Junsu giggled at his own lame word play.
“He doesn’t.” Yoochun didn’t know why he kept denying it. If Changmin wasn’t fucking Yunho then he was fucking someone else. There was no way he couldn’t find someone to worship his abs and suck his undoubtedly huge cock every night.
Junsu poked his cheek. “You’re blushing, so cute.”
Yoochun shoved him away. “Don’t you have homework?”
Really, teasing him about his crush on a celebrity seemed to be Junsu’s favourite way to procrastinate, and then Junsu said Yoochun didn’t have a life.
“Are you thinking about him right now? Are you getting hard?”
Yoochun shoved all the books on the table in his bag and stood up. He was at the door of the library when Junsu called his name and he was at the gate when Junsu finally caught up with him. It was dark outside.
“Chunnie, I’m sorry,” Junsu leaned against him, panting. “It’s just so funny to see you fanboy all over that guy.”
“I’m glad I manage to amuse you.”
“I’m really sorry. Finals stress me out, is that a good excuse?”
“Pay for my coffee tomorrow.”
Junsu smiled. “Deal.” He yawned. “I should really get some sleep.”
“Me too, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow in the middle of a huge pile of books from hell.”
Yoochun actually smiled a little and Junsu looked proud as he waved and went the other direction.
His crush was pathetic. Yoochun pulled his jacked closer around his body as he walked through the park.
The park was a very scary place at night, but Yoochun always took this route home no matter what time it was. This was the park where Changmin had been spotted a few times by fans, and the rumour that he lived around here was so strong that Yoochun’s heart beat faster every time he walked through it.
Pathetic.
Yoochun shivered at both the cold and a foreign sound and pulled his iPod out of his backpack.
He almost considered playing one of the few albums on there that didn’t have Changmin’s perfect voice, but he had to survive the park right now, that was a good excuse.
He chose one of Changmin’s solos, because he hated listening to Yunho - for the wrong reasons - and blasted the dark and scary away.
It was maybe after twenty more steps that he noticed that he was singing along, and imagining how Changmin’s sweaty body moved to the beat, and that he was getting hard.
He pulled the buds out of his ears and kicked a bench. The bench didn’t even care enough to hurt his foot.
“I have to get rid of this crush, I will,” he told the bench, or himself. Neither seemed convinced.
The silence was scarier than ever and Yoochun kept talking out loud to fight it.
“I can’t just keep stroking off to thoughts of Shim fucking Changmin for the rest of my life. I should find a boyfriend, someone my own age, and someone I’d actually have a chance at having sex with, ever. Oh, and the love thing too.”
The bench didn’t say anything. Yoochun imagined that it was Junsu and then it laughed at him, so he quit that.
“I bet you’ve seen him.” Yoochun didn’t feel like a crazy person talking to a bench. Hoping that Changmin would ever have sex with him, now that was insane, lower a chance than this bench actually talking back.
“I bet he sat on you and you felt his muscled thighs. You know what, I’m not even that greedy, my dream isn’t to feel his thighs, I’d already be happy if he’d look at me while pulling his sexy face. I could stroke off to that for weeks.”
Yoochun wasn’t sure how he’d gone from trying to convince himself to get over this to being jealous of a bench. He kicked it again and did hurt his foot this time.
“Fuck you!” he shouted, a lot more to himself than to the bench, so he added a “Fuck me!” for good measure. He turned around and stepped right into a warm, hard body.
“My pleasure,” a voice said just above his head.
Yoochun’s heart had stopped the moment he realised someone had heard him, his body frozen. He was afraid to look up. Only after a while he realised what the other had said.
“W-what?” His head shot up.
If his heart hadn’t stopped beating already, it would definitely have now.
Right in front of him was the tall body of Shim Changmin, who was looking down at him with amusement in his eyes but an otherwise straight face.
At this point Yoochun was convinced that he’d died and gone to heaven, or ended up in a movie, or that this was a dream.
He watched with wide eyes as Changmin’s lips parted, slowly, and he pressed his teeth into the side of the bottom one while his eyes narrowed a bit.
Yoochun felt his body heat up. He hoped he wasn’t drooling.
When Changmin’s expression suddenly changed back and he started talking, Yoochun almost gasped in surprise.
“There, I made your dream come true, now you have to give me something in return.”
Yoochun opened his mouth to say something, but he had no idea what.
Changmin clearly lost his patience and stepped forward, even closer.
Yoochun instinctively moved back, but suddenly there was an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against Changmin’s body.
“First,” Changmin said into his ear, voice husky, “I want you to help me warm my hands.”
The hand holding him close found its way into his shirt. Yoochun gasped as icy fingers moved over his side. He hardly noticed the fingers of another hand opening his pants, but he noticed when they slipped into his boxers and wrapped around his cock.
He whimpered, because of the cold, and because of everything about this. What was happening? He wanted to push this man - was it really Changmin? - away, but he couldn't.
Soon enough, Changmin had coaxed his cock to hardness despite the cold, and his hand was tugging on the now heated erection, too rough. Yoochun opened his mouth again, but he still wasn’t able to form words. He squeezed his eyes shut and his knees buckled.
Changmin’s arm held him up. The hand disappeared and Yoochun heard Changmin spit on it. When it was back its touch was slicker, even more like torture but in another way. Yoochun moaned and sagged completely against the tall body in front of him.
It felt so real.
Changmin’s hand slowed and Yoochun whimpered. He bucked his hips forward when fingers moved over the sensitive head of his cock, thumbing the slit. He leaned heavily on Changmin, fingers digging into the man’s shoulders, and panted against his chest.
Changmin’s chuckle vibrated over Yoochun’s skin. “Cute,” Changmin commented as he moved a hand to Yoochun’s chin to lift his face. “I want you to warm my dick next.”
Yoochun’s last completely coherent thought was that Junsu would never believe this.
Changmin’s hand slid out of his boxers and Yoochun whined, automatically. He cut off his whine when Changmin’s slick thumb slid over and between his lips. Yoochun tasted himself at the tip of his tongue.
When Changmin was done with what had seemed to be inspecting Yoochun’s lips, he turned around and pushed Yoochun down as he sat on the bench. Yoochun fell to his knees immediately, already dizzy from that little spin, but probably more from his still achingly hard erection.
He closed his eyes to clear his head - without much success - and when he opened them again there was a cock in front of his face. It was only half hard, but already impressively long and thick. Changmin’s hand stroked it lazily.
Yoochun’s brain couldn’t warn him about what was going to happen before Changmin fisted his hair and pulled him forward. Yoochun closed his eyes at the sting on his head and gasped. Something warm and soft and slick nudged his bottom lip and then slid over it, into his mouth.
The fingers in his hair tightened their grip and Changmin pulled him forward and pushed him back so quickly that Yoochun didn’t even have time to start gagging before the head of Changmin’s cock had left his throat again.
But Changmin immediately pushed back in and this time Yoochun did gag around him, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
Changmin paused for a moment, his cock still in Yoochun’s mouth but not all the way. It had swollen and now stretched Yoochun’s lips. Changmin cupped his face and Yoochun used the moment to suck in much needed oxygen through his nose.
“I knew these lips would look pretty around my cock.” Changmin’s thumb slid through the saliva dribbling from a corner of Yoochun’s mouth. “Wet it good, pretty boy, it’s all the lubrication you’ll get.”
Yoochun’s fingers squeezed Changmin’s thighs at those words. Something in the back of his mind shouted ‘Changmin is going to fuck you! Changmin!’, but Changmin pulled his head down and bucked his hips up at the same time and Yoochun had to focus on breathing.
When Changmin slowed to choose a different angle, Yoochun noticed that his breathing was heavier than before as well. Yoochun’s tongue seemed paralysed, but he eventually managed to get it to slide over the underside of Changmin’s erection. Changmin moaned above him and Yoochun hoped that it meant he was doing something good.
“Enough,” Changmin suddenly said. His now slippery, rock hard cock slid out from between Yoochun’s lips, but when Yoochun moved his tongue, he tasted the tangy flavour that cock had left everywhere in his mouth.
Changmin pulled him up and pushed him until he was kneeling on the bench. Yoochun went willingly. There were tears in his eyes from Changmin’s rough fucking of his throat, but the thought that this was what he’d dreamed of - in the dreams he’d secretly longed for the most - had always been present in his mind. That was probably why he was still hard.
Changmin yanked his boxers down and hummed in approval when he reached around him and found a leaking erection.
“Hold on to something.” Yoochun could hear Changmin’s smirk in his voice. He was already holding onto the back of the bench, so he just tightened his grip.
Changmin pulled one of his ass cheeks to the side, spreading him open with one hand. The slick, warm head of his cock pressed against Yoochun’s hole.
Yoochun’s eyes widened and he bit his lip. Changmin snapped his hips forward, breaching him, pushing him open and scraping over his walls. Yoochun bit through his lip before he screamed.
Changmin reached for his cock again and grabbed it, squeezing. Hundreds of different sensations seemed to attack Yoochun’s body at once. He was shaking.
“Stroke yourself.” Changmin’s voice was strained.
Yoochun let go of the bench with one trembling hand and brought it down to his cock. His mouth fell open when he wrapped his fingers around it and he moaned.
He could feel Changmin decide that he’d waited long enough and worried about being slammed into the back of the bench, until Changmin’s fingers grabbed his hips, digging into his skin. Those would keep him in place.
They did. Changmin pulled him back a little with every thrust as he started to ram into him, but most of the movement came from his own hips. The pace was brutal.
Yoochun cried out and moaned and screamed and didn’t care if he was drooling or not. His hand flew over his throbbing cock. He gasped when it twitched.
Maybe he should have warned Changmin, but he had no idea how when his voice seemed stuck in his throat. His convulsing body had to do the talking.
It was dark around them but Yoochun only saw blinding white as he covered the bench in come. His body wanted to give up right after, but Changmin was still holding him and pounding into his abused hole. Yoochun whimpered and moaned and tried not to faceplant against the back of the bench.
“Fuck.” It was all Changmin said as he pulled Yoochun back onto his cock a few final times, skin slapping on skin. He groaned and stilled, pressed completely inside.
Yoochun slumped down, against the back of the bench before sliding further down and lying more or less stretched out. Something wet trickled over his thighs and although he knew it was saliva, blood or come, he felt surprisingly happy and sated, his mind like a fuzzy cloud.
He opened his eyes when someone shook him. He could feel that his boxers and pants were pulled up and closed already.
“I have to go, but I must say not bad, kid.”
Yoochun groaned, trying to figure out what Changmin just said.
“It’s cold out here, you might want to go home before falling asleep.”
Yoochun took a break from trying to keep his eyes open and nodded. The next moment he felt, and knew, that Changmin was gone.
He sat up, almost falling back down again at the soreness that spread through his body like fire, or a knife, a knife on fire.
His bag was at his feet and he picked it up before taking on the challenge that was trying to stand up, and then trying to take a few steps.
After an hour full of challenges like that and forcing himself to keep his mind blank, Yoochun had managed to drag himself home.
He fell asleep immediately and it seemed only seconds later that he was forced to move again - to hit his alarm until it shut up - and noticed that the soreness hadn’t left, definitely not.
He was still afraid to reflect, afraid to think about this and realise that it had been a dream after all. Or that it had been real but that he hadn't done everything he’d wanted and that he’d regret wasting a perfect opportunity to do what he had wanted for the rest of his life.
It was the only reason he was in the library as early as usual. He’d figured that keeping himself busy would stop his mind from wandering, conveniently ignoring the fact that it never had before.
Junsu sat down next to him, holding two cups of coffee. Yoochun shot him a grateful look.
It was only shortly after they’d finished their first coffee and cursed about fifteen teachers and subjects and books, that Junsu said: “So, which music video did you stroke off to last night?”
Yoochun dropped his forehead on the table and stared at the floor. Junsu wasn’t making this easier.
Should he just tell him? He was his best friend after all. But Junsu would probably laugh at what a bad fan he was. He had no proof whatsoever that what happened really happened.
Did it?
Yoochun closed his eyes and sighed. Above him, Junsu rattled on about fanfiction and certain mangas.
When he opened his eyes again his gaze fell on his bag, and stayed there, because he thought he’d seen a dark stain.
That bag was expensive and just new. He pulled it close and hoped he wouldn’t find a permanent marker without a cap in there.
He inspected the side of his bag. The ‘stain’ was indeed caused by a permanent marker. But it was also Changmin’s autograph.