untitled; yesung/ryeowook
notes: i didn't participate in any of the secret santas, but i will have a few fic gifts that hopefully i can release before the year ends, and before the fic mojo stops circulating completely and i decide to end this gig forever lol. so merry christmas to all of you reading this journal, i wish you all the best of luck on your secret santas! ♥
this is especially for all the lovely yewook-biased people on the flist, thundersquall, urei_sachi, loveisonthemenu & hotarumyst. ♥ this is nothing amazing, but, well. it's the thought that counts? :)
untitled yewook porn
Tonight, no white noise within the wires would interfere with their messages. From the lofty vantage of the eleventh floor, while looking out into the light leaning over the bustling city, he held his cellphone in one hand and a beer in the other. It took five rings before Ryeowook picked up, sounding out of breath and a bit worse for wear.
"Took you long enough," he said, leaning his arms over the railing, listening to Ryeowook's quiet exhales of breath over the line. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Ryeowook replied after one long breath. "I'm sorry, I was playing Wii Bowling with Kyuhyunnie and Henry. You should see them duke it out. Brings out the violent side in both of them."
"Mm," he answered, feeling the cold wind blow against his cheek. "Will you be up to it tonight?"
"Tonight?" Ryeowook laughed softly, then his voice was a low rumble in Yesung's ear. "Always."
He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder to see if any familiar outlines lurked behind the curtain. Tonight, everyone else was having their fill of standing on bar tabletops and drinking in the freedom of a week off from schedule. Finding no spying eyes on him, he carefully slipped a hand inside his stretch pants.
"If I know you, you'd have your hand in your pants by now," Ryeowook was saying, and Yesung could hear the minute squeaking of his bed - oh fuck, was he already naked and touching himself under the covers - and Yesung imagines his arms curling about Ryeowook's back to trace his worship with his tongue.
"You know me so well," Yesung practically purred over the line, and when he turned this way and that the line went the slightest bit hazy but he could barely hear it, not when Ryeowook murmured half-coherent filthy promises, things that would drive even their unshakeable youngest to sputtering fits. "Where are you?"
"On my bed, wearing nothing but a smile," Ryeowook said, matter-of-fact.
"Go to someone else's bed. Henry's. Kyuhyun's. Siwon's." Fuck yes, he can see it now - sweet, slow, lazy, them kissing, letting the desire build up into hard flutters of arousal low in his belly. In his mind, he was leaning over Ryeowook, flushed pink, planting kisses on the back of his neck, his erection sliding teasingly along the cleft of his pert backside--
"What? Why?" Yesung can hear the slight shifting of the comforter over the other line. "Is this some sort of weird fetish I don't know about?"
"You don't want to? That's fine." It hurt to converse, what with his hand moving further down, closing around himself, and yes, god yes, it was Ryeowook's hand, Ryeowook stroking him, long and slow and firm ,with that rough little squeeze at the end that tipped him over the edge. Oh, yes, more, fuck--
"Jongwoon, only because I love you that I do these things for you," Ryeowook said with a low sigh. "I'm in someone else's bed now. I won't tell you whose."
"Mm, I like a bit of mystery," Another stroke, and Ryeowook was going so slow to deliberately prolong his agony. "Touch yourself for me, baby."
Ryeowook made a funny sort of noise, like he was trying to hide his laughter, but he didn't reply.
"Are you hard?" he asked in crooning, slightly nasal voice.
"Getting there," Ryeowook grunted, "care to help out?"
"Do what I do - don't think that your hand is your own. It's mine, and I'm touching you. I'm going to fuck you with that hand. Okay?"
Ryeowook sounded thick when he answered, "Okay."
The fold-out chair dipped lightly beneath his weight as he stroked faster, parted his legs wider. "I'm kissing you all over... and now I'm sucking on your nipples, and touching your cock just the way you want."
"Jongwoon," Ryeowook gasped, and he could imagine his fingers trailing down Ryeowook's spine as he cupped the firm buttocks, slipped a slick finger in between.
"Now I'm--" Yesung paused abruptly as he heard a vaguely high-pitched scream over the other line. "Ryeowookie?"
"I have to go," Ryeowook said hurriedly, muttering barely audible curses. "Siwon-hyung is here."
Yesung groaned, resisted the urge to throw his cellphone over the balcony as Ryeowook hung up. So it wasn't white noise or static that managed to cut through their conversation, but something much worse, basically equaling the wrath (or tears) of God.
The moment Ryeowook entered their room straight from the airport, nose red from the cold and giant rumpled scarf wrapped around his neck, Yesung pulled him down to the bed with him and sucked a bruise into the side of his neck.
"This really... can't wait... can it?" Ryeowook gasped in between Yesung dragging his teeth up to the front of his jaw, and pulling away to slowly divest him of each layer of clothing, starting with the heavy scarf, down to the coat, sweater, undershirt, until he stared up at Yesung with only his jeans on.
Yesung grinned, and as Ryeowook tilted his head back slightly, the cords in his neck showing just so, the line of his jaw sharp, his hands - so beautiful, Yesung thought distractedly - he decided that showing that no, this can never wait, was better than simply saying so.
Ryeowook slid his jeans and underwear off as he snaked a hand beneath Ryeowook to lift his hips high, palm spreading over his naked rear, little finger just barely grazing the crease between his cheeks.
"It's been so long..." Yesung pressed his lips to Ryeowook's ear and whispered. The heat was incredible, all the cold of the world dissolving in the places where skin met skin.
Ryeowook's eyes flickered shut. "Just fuck me already," he moaned, shuddered and released a high-pitched whimper as Yesung began to move his fingers in and out.
I love you, no one but you, was Yesung's mantra as his body slipped deeper into Ryeowook's, weight resting against the other. He felt quivers run through Ryeowook's body, as his own throbbed with the frustration and emotion of all the weeks spent without Ryeowook, all the songs he sang without Ryeowook, all the sunrises he'd seen in bed without Ryeowook.
Ryeowook laced their fingers together as he buried himself to the hilt, and the moonlit shadows creasing into Ryeowook's face defined his beauty, made him want Ryeowook more and more and more until it wasn't possible to breathe or sleep or live because he'd used up all of his want on this man.
And he didn't need to think twice about it - he wouldn't have it any other way.
this is especially for all the lovely yewook-biased people on the flist, thundersquall, urei_sachi, loveisonthemenu & hotarumyst. ♥ this is nothing amazing, but, well. it's the thought that counts? :)
untitled yewook porn
Tonight, no white noise within the wires would interfere with their messages. From the lofty vantage of the eleventh floor, while looking out into the light leaning over the bustling city, he held his cellphone in one hand and a beer in the other. It took five rings before Ryeowook picked up, sounding out of breath and a bit worse for wear.
"Took you long enough," he said, leaning his arms over the railing, listening to Ryeowook's quiet exhales of breath over the line. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Ryeowook replied after one long breath. "I'm sorry, I was playing Wii Bowling with Kyuhyunnie and Henry. You should see them duke it out. Brings out the violent side in both of them."
"Mm," he answered, feeling the cold wind blow against his cheek. "Will you be up to it tonight?"
"Tonight?" Ryeowook laughed softly, then his voice was a low rumble in Yesung's ear. "Always."
He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder to see if any familiar outlines lurked behind the curtain. Tonight, everyone else was having their fill of standing on bar tabletops and drinking in the freedom of a week off from schedule. Finding no spying eyes on him, he carefully slipped a hand inside his stretch pants.
"If I know you, you'd have your hand in your pants by now," Ryeowook was saying, and Yesung could hear the minute squeaking of his bed - oh fuck, was he already naked and touching himself under the covers - and Yesung imagines his arms curling about Ryeowook's back to trace his worship with his tongue.
"You know me so well," Yesung practically purred over the line, and when he turned this way and that the line went the slightest bit hazy but he could barely hear it, not when Ryeowook murmured half-coherent filthy promises, things that would drive even their unshakeable youngest to sputtering fits. "Where are you?"
"On my bed, wearing nothing but a smile," Ryeowook said, matter-of-fact.
"Go to someone else's bed. Henry's. Kyuhyun's. Siwon's." Fuck yes, he can see it now - sweet, slow, lazy, them kissing, letting the desire build up into hard flutters of arousal low in his belly. In his mind, he was leaning over Ryeowook, flushed pink, planting kisses on the back of his neck, his erection sliding teasingly along the cleft of his pert backside--
"What? Why?" Yesung can hear the slight shifting of the comforter over the other line. "Is this some sort of weird fetish I don't know about?"
"You don't want to? That's fine." It hurt to converse, what with his hand moving further down, closing around himself, and yes, god yes, it was Ryeowook's hand, Ryeowook stroking him, long and slow and firm ,with that rough little squeeze at the end that tipped him over the edge. Oh, yes, more, fuck--
"Jongwoon, only because I love you that I do these things for you," Ryeowook said with a low sigh. "I'm in someone else's bed now. I won't tell you whose."
"Mm, I like a bit of mystery," Another stroke, and Ryeowook was going so slow to deliberately prolong his agony. "Touch yourself for me, baby."
Ryeowook made a funny sort of noise, like he was trying to hide his laughter, but he didn't reply.
"Are you hard?" he asked in crooning, slightly nasal voice.
"Getting there," Ryeowook grunted, "care to help out?"
"Do what I do - don't think that your hand is your own. It's mine, and I'm touching you. I'm going to fuck you with that hand. Okay?"
Ryeowook sounded thick when he answered, "Okay."
The fold-out chair dipped lightly beneath his weight as he stroked faster, parted his legs wider. "I'm kissing you all over... and now I'm sucking on your nipples, and touching your cock just the way you want."
"Jongwoon," Ryeowook gasped, and he could imagine his fingers trailing down Ryeowook's spine as he cupped the firm buttocks, slipped a slick finger in between.
"Now I'm--" Yesung paused abruptly as he heard a vaguely high-pitched scream over the other line. "Ryeowookie?"
"I have to go," Ryeowook said hurriedly, muttering barely audible curses. "Siwon-hyung is here."
Yesung groaned, resisted the urge to throw his cellphone over the balcony as Ryeowook hung up. So it wasn't white noise or static that managed to cut through their conversation, but something much worse, basically equaling the wrath (or tears) of God.
The moment Ryeowook entered their room straight from the airport, nose red from the cold and giant rumpled scarf wrapped around his neck, Yesung pulled him down to the bed with him and sucked a bruise into the side of his neck.
"This really... can't wait... can it?" Ryeowook gasped in between Yesung dragging his teeth up to the front of his jaw, and pulling away to slowly divest him of each layer of clothing, starting with the heavy scarf, down to the coat, sweater, undershirt, until he stared up at Yesung with only his jeans on.
Yesung grinned, and as Ryeowook tilted his head back slightly, the cords in his neck showing just so, the line of his jaw sharp, his hands - so beautiful, Yesung thought distractedly - he decided that showing that no, this can never wait, was better than simply saying so.
Ryeowook slid his jeans and underwear off as he snaked a hand beneath Ryeowook to lift his hips high, palm spreading over his naked rear, little finger just barely grazing the crease between his cheeks.
"It's been so long..." Yesung pressed his lips to Ryeowook's ear and whispered. The heat was incredible, all the cold of the world dissolving in the places where skin met skin.
Ryeowook's eyes flickered shut. "Just fuck me already," he moaned, shuddered and released a high-pitched whimper as Yesung began to move his fingers in and out.
I love you, no one but you, was Yesung's mantra as his body slipped deeper into Ryeowook's, weight resting against the other. He felt quivers run through Ryeowook's body, as his own throbbed with the frustration and emotion of all the weeks spent without Ryeowook, all the songs he sang without Ryeowook, all the sunrises he'd seen in bed without Ryeowook.
Ryeowook laced their fingers together as he buried himself to the hilt, and the moonlit shadows creasing into Ryeowook's face defined his beauty, made him want Ryeowook more and more and more until it wasn't possible to breathe or sleep or live because he'd used up all of his want on this man.
And he didn't need to think twice about it - he wouldn't have it any other way.