Fic: Sleepless Angel
Title: Sleepless Angel
Author: louie x
Series: Super Junior rps
Pairing: Siwon/Yesung
Word Count: 840
Rating: R
Summary: The Angels whispered secrets into the ears of newborns and placed their fingers upon their mouths to hush the words from being repeated. It left a mark above the upper lip from their touch that all humans bear. Some find that small blessing more captivating than others.
Disclaimer: I have no say, no truthful eye into their lives, or any sway over these young men. It's all fiction!
It's a spell written into his skin. A soft touch on a place long forgotten as being important and it sends shivers along his spine that weakens his knees. He is always grateful to be off his feet when the touch comes, to not embarrass himself further by actually stumbling.
Science says it is the sealing of the fetus's palette that creates the philtrum. The little dip above soft pink lips like a signature of completion on each beautiful child's face as they enter this world. Religion dictates it is the touch of an angel's hand. They whisper unto the unborn babe the answer to life's greatest riddle, pressing their fingers lightly to smiling lips, and it burns the promise of a secret kept so deeply it's forgotten. Only the soul remembers the gentle words, a language of music and light that brings comfort in moments of darkness.
In the dark, a body creeps into his bed. Arms wind around his waist. Warmth presses against his side. Restless until a cat's quick sleep settles over the smaller form and he can drift once more. It's nothing new, nothing strange; they've all gotten used to their hyung's habits, almost like sleep-walking from bed to bed. The touching though... the touching wakes him quicker than any alarm ever could. His eyes remain shut as a slender fingertip traces the line angels made, pressing life's secrets into his very soul.
His heart races. Speeding up so quickly it makes his vision spin in the darkness behind his eyelids. He fights to breathe normally, to not let the other young man know how much the one touch drives him wild. The room is dark to keep that secret, traced into his lips anew as a sin that moves his body in what he'll always swear is the product of a dream.
In the light, they don't talk about it. His hyung is teased for his bed hopping, but no one breathes word akin to what he does under the cover of unconsciousness. Not even Heechul, in between his whines of needing more beauty sleep, mentions returning the scandalous touches.
He uses his long arms to his advantage. Winding them around the smaller frame, flipping them from being pressed side-to-side to pin his hyung flat against the small bed. They kiss almost furiously, anger and desire blinding his still closed eyes from focusing on the strong, distinctly male body beneath him. Hips grind together, rubbing in ways that send bolts of sensation up his spine to the back of his tongue so he can taste just how aroused he is. To shove that taste into the other man's mouth along with the twists of their tongues in knots that excuses him from having to put words to the stolen moments.
His hands bunch in the flimsy shirt material, shoving it up and away while his own shirt is tossed aside. It's as nude as they get, an invisible line drawn in the quiet, dark of his room. They rub and kiss, fucking each other's mouths with tongues and teeth nipping skin while their cocks protest with sharp pangs of denied release against the fabric of their lower layers. Breathing hard through his nose, he buries his face against the soft, pale throat as he finally comes. A rush of heat against his hip tells him that he's not the only one.
They pull apart, sticky and vaguely sweaty to lay side-by-side again. Panting and looking to the ceiling, a field of nothingness above their heads, there’s no talking as their bodies settle. He doesn't speak while glancing at the other body in his bed. Daring a peek and willing his eyes to stay open, to see though the absence of light to make out the simple lines of a face. The other man is asleep. Laying there, just quietly breathing and relaxed against the bed warmed from their bodies like nothing happened. In the morning, neither will speak of it. Only a prying, nosy sort would poke through their laundry to see what volumes they might say as opposed to the silence.
Siwon turns onto his side and watches Yesung sleep. He chews a dent into his lower lip as his heart beats far too loudly in his ears. It's a recognizable pattern that pulsed just moments before through his cock; a beat of lust conjured from the lightest of touches.
He reaches out and traces Yesung's lips with his index fingertip. Pressing the night's secret against the dip of his philtrum, willing Yesung to forget it ever happened akin to the angels with their infant charges. Siwon whispers a prayer against his hyung's temple, quiet enough to not wake him, but loud enough to be counted as a hope to forgive both of them. He drifts off with the scent of Yesung's shampoo and sweat against his nose. Ignoring the questions nagging at him in favor of sleep. Pursing his lips and hoping for an angel to press the secret back into him.
Author: louie x
Series: Super Junior rps
Pairing: Siwon/Yesung
Word Count: 840
Rating: R
Summary: The Angels whispered secrets into the ears of newborns and placed their fingers upon their mouths to hush the words from being repeated. It left a mark above the upper lip from their touch that all humans bear. Some find that small blessing more captivating than others.
Disclaimer: I have no say, no truthful eye into their lives, or any sway over these young men. It's all fiction!
It's a spell written into his skin. A soft touch on a place long forgotten as being important and it sends shivers along his spine that weakens his knees. He is always grateful to be off his feet when the touch comes, to not embarrass himself further by actually stumbling.
Science says it is the sealing of the fetus's palette that creates the philtrum. The little dip above soft pink lips like a signature of completion on each beautiful child's face as they enter this world. Religion dictates it is the touch of an angel's hand. They whisper unto the unborn babe the answer to life's greatest riddle, pressing their fingers lightly to smiling lips, and it burns the promise of a secret kept so deeply it's forgotten. Only the soul remembers the gentle words, a language of music and light that brings comfort in moments of darkness.
In the dark, a body creeps into his bed. Arms wind around his waist. Warmth presses against his side. Restless until a cat's quick sleep settles over the smaller form and he can drift once more. It's nothing new, nothing strange; they've all gotten used to their hyung's habits, almost like sleep-walking from bed to bed. The touching though... the touching wakes him quicker than any alarm ever could. His eyes remain shut as a slender fingertip traces the line angels made, pressing life's secrets into his very soul.
His heart races. Speeding up so quickly it makes his vision spin in the darkness behind his eyelids. He fights to breathe normally, to not let the other young man know how much the one touch drives him wild. The room is dark to keep that secret, traced into his lips anew as a sin that moves his body in what he'll always swear is the product of a dream.
In the light, they don't talk about it. His hyung is teased for his bed hopping, but no one breathes word akin to what he does under the cover of unconsciousness. Not even Heechul, in between his whines of needing more beauty sleep, mentions returning the scandalous touches.
He uses his long arms to his advantage. Winding them around the smaller frame, flipping them from being pressed side-to-side to pin his hyung flat against the small bed. They kiss almost furiously, anger and desire blinding his still closed eyes from focusing on the strong, distinctly male body beneath him. Hips grind together, rubbing in ways that send bolts of sensation up his spine to the back of his tongue so he can taste just how aroused he is. To shove that taste into the other man's mouth along with the twists of their tongues in knots that excuses him from having to put words to the stolen moments.
His hands bunch in the flimsy shirt material, shoving it up and away while his own shirt is tossed aside. It's as nude as they get, an invisible line drawn in the quiet, dark of his room. They rub and kiss, fucking each other's mouths with tongues and teeth nipping skin while their cocks protest with sharp pangs of denied release against the fabric of their lower layers. Breathing hard through his nose, he buries his face against the soft, pale throat as he finally comes. A rush of heat against his hip tells him that he's not the only one.
They pull apart, sticky and vaguely sweaty to lay side-by-side again. Panting and looking to the ceiling, a field of nothingness above their heads, there’s no talking as their bodies settle. He doesn't speak while glancing at the other body in his bed. Daring a peek and willing his eyes to stay open, to see though the absence of light to make out the simple lines of a face. The other man is asleep. Laying there, just quietly breathing and relaxed against the bed warmed from their bodies like nothing happened. In the morning, neither will speak of it. Only a prying, nosy sort would poke through their laundry to see what volumes they might say as opposed to the silence.
Siwon turns onto his side and watches Yesung sleep. He chews a dent into his lower lip as his heart beats far too loudly in his ears. It's a recognizable pattern that pulsed just moments before through his cock; a beat of lust conjured from the lightest of touches.
He reaches out and traces Yesung's lips with his index fingertip. Pressing the night's secret against the dip of his philtrum, willing Yesung to forget it ever happened akin to the angels with their infant charges. Siwon whispers a prayer against his hyung's temple, quiet enough to not wake him, but loud enough to be counted as a hope to forgive both of them. He drifts off with the scent of Yesung's shampoo and sweat against his nose. Ignoring the questions nagging at him in favor of sleep. Pursing his lips and hoping for an angel to press the secret back into him.