(no subject)
sunshine
ot5
soft R
a bit of flying and then falling into easy rhythms.
suggested listening;
onew's lips taste different; they taste like raspberries rolled in sugar, sweetness washing over his nerves after long summer nights of biting lemons in half. assurance. stability. safety shattered by the ferocity leaving roadmaps down his neck, tongue and teeth and fingers crawling over his collarbone and leaving wounds that will barely knit themselves together, discolored and broken and bruised
jonghyun is not so sweet and not so stable, not so calm like the rolling ocean but more a doppelganger, a screaming hurricane, flinging debris into his brain. embedded wood weights the little mass so that it spins off-balance, away, far away. in the midst of the hurricane and the eye of it, key walks that little borderline in a puttering aircraft that's bleeding parts, raining fuel and plummeting hard to meet the forces where they sprout; the lips remove themselves, simultaneous (of one expansive, watery mind) and plunge him into the icy depth of awareness.
a deep breath of oxygen balloons his lungs into his ribs. his eyes part with a ferocious hail of blinking, clearing the stability and reeling passion from his mind until it's blank. he blabbers, tongue hanging, and a chuckle feeds into his ear. taemin has taken onew's attention with little soft lips, lotus flowers floating on a tenuous surface, while jonghyun appraises the new developments with a watchful eye. his breathing is unconsciously suffocating on the back of key's neck, hairs steeped and flattened in thunderous fog.
jonghyun remembers his post, suddenly, with the help of an elbow and a huff, and returns to carefully mapping the as-yet untouched skin stretched taut across key's collarbones. minho moves somewhere in the periphery. jonghyun sighs and slows, tongue heavy and careful. key feels him twitch as minho reaches in front of jonghyun and finds his shirt, his thigh, his stomach, somehow taking half of forever to really obtain his prize. he doesn't even set about it correctly, either, which makes key sort of half-wonder if maybe he has never touched a penis before, maybe not even his own - it would explain the inexplicable drive and focus, also the inability to look intense without simultaneously channeling bits of meathead - and onew's foot finds itself into key's lap, taemin's arm across his knees, taemin's back awkwardly draping over the couch arm (and head tapping an infintesimal beat on the coffee table). onew finds a way along the rail-thin skeleton of his frame, poking the residual belly fat in jest, pulling a frown and a half-hearted growl from the teenager stretched out below him. taemin's hand retracts from its post on key's thigh and creeps, stealthily, under onew's shirt in a search-and-rescue mission for whatever makes the older man twitch. this, unsurprisingly, turns out to be a pair of nipples and taut abdominal muscles. taemin's hand hesitates, wavers, lingers before discovering any of those fine points of jinki's character, all too distracted by his smile and his voice and his tongue and taemin's own thoughts. the newness, the raw thrill makes his fingers shake.
minho rolls jonghyun over onto his back and works him over, silent, eyebrows knitted in concentration. this isn't second nature, not yet, although there's no telling what will happen in a day or month (or five minutes from now, as minho's eyebrows are second by second relaxing into a dazed familiarity)
jonghyun is down for the count, quiet, subdued but for the pitiful whimper jumping from his mouth. months, maybe a year or more since he's even touched someone below the waist (how long since he had groped a chest, either?) and the drug is decidedly putting him in a deep coma. this is interspersed, of course, by momentary lapses where his body jumps and his eyes flutter, when he's startled and when he's annoyed but only really truly peeved that minho's hands wander not as far as he intends. key leans against a pillow and nurses the wound left by the existence of odd numbers of people by sticking his hand down his pants and not thinking about it too much; taemin's knee is underneath his legs as a result, and in a brief moment he brushes fingers lightly against the arch of a bony foot and makes him giggle into those soft, sweet, stable lips that onew has been suffocating him with. minho rolls over, onto taemin, in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs, pulling jonghyun with him (whose head does land on key's lap, in very close proximity to key's hand and key's erection in a rather perfect turn of events)
key insists on putting him to work because, why not.
he doesn't seem to mind, though, being rather preoccupied himself. onew shoves his foot into minho's face in retribution for his interrupted activities. taemin sighs as he feels momentary boredom creeping up on him, pulling onew back to focus but finding the ensuing looking at each other to be actually really very awkward. onew stares a bit more, primarily at the little bruises and rose petals flowering all over taemin's skin, the blood rushing to paint his face and his every available canvas space pink like the last rays of a dying sun. they chuckle, or giggle, neither is really definitive, but tinged entirely too much with nerves before closing their eyes and falling into a tangle of limbs with minho and jonghyun.
key feels like this is enough and worms into the pile as well, pawing around until he can find some semblance of a human body (and a face while he's at it because it's just much, much more fun that way) and loses himself in that warmth, in that boiling comfort that screams and sighs at once. jonghyun is forcing something hard and minho is sliding the brunt of it away, but not enough that either onew or taemin or key don't feel it, which is probably the equivalent of setting fire to one house instead of demolishing thousand - an occurrence, but not one that will cause an implosion, either.
taemin has somehow moved to minho, now, and slides into a comfortable finish with a soft sigh and a strong arm wrapped around him (key really wonders why it takes this long for him to crawl into that safe embrace, at least until he looks over and remembers, oh yes, onew). while he's at it jonghyun's head bobs into the periphery down there somewhere, and somewhere being in a place that makes it possible to put lips around key's cock, budging rather violently as onew fills him hard and fast and, in a steep contrast to his soft grip on jonghyun's chest and hips, absolutely mercilessly. a few pairs of eyes are blinking sleepily, now, (it's really hard to count, especially past the black blinds rolling down on his world) and the rest of them are knotted up in little arcs of eyesmiles. it's a warmth in his chest (and all over his chest, heavy across his arm, pluming against his cheek) that weights him to the bed and wraps them in a bubble of still time, stopped moments.