(no subject)
Men, men, men.
Pairing: Yoosu.
Rating: R.
A/N: I was hastily persuaded. :D This is part two. Part one: here. Short and sweet.
He phones the number five times before he even lets it ring.
He lets out a sigh and puffs his cheeks. He presses the redial button and takes a deep breath, three rings and then:
"Hello?"
Yoochun chokes on his spit and then attempts to regain himself. What ever happened to calm and composed? "Hello?" It comes again, the smile evident in the person at the other end's voice. "Um, hi. It's the guy from the outdoor café?" He questions, unsure.
"Oh, you must be looking for Junsu. I'll go get him." He hears feet scuffling along a carpeted floor, a brief conversation and then hands fumbling. His throat goes dry.
"Hello?"The voice is again, amazing. Dark, husky, sexy. He bumbles over his syllables for a minute, stops and breathes deep through his nose. "I'm Yoochun." Then there's a laugh, eu kyang kyang. Yoochun's pretty sure his heart just flatlines. "Junsu."
"So, what do you do?" Yoochun feels something shift in his pants and similarly in his brain. From there the conversations flows.
They arrange to meet on Thursday evening.
--
Junsu stands with one hip cocked against the wall. His hair is perfectly styled into messy spikes. Yoochun smooths his own mop with his hand out of insecurity.
"Hi." He mumbles a small smile and an awkward wave.
Junsu grabs him by the collar.
He kisses him. Hard, fast. Soft, slow. Everything. All at once. Junsu gives him it there an then. He tastes like expensive cigarettes. A comparison to the probable taste of the cheap ones on Yoochun's tongue. There's the overwhelming scent of Junsu, everything Junsu, filling his nostrils. He can't think straight. He just feels and smells. Feels Junsu hip bones under his thumbs. Feels Junsu's tongue against his. Smells aftershave and hair gel. Smells men.
They got to a club. They dance. Junsu rubs against Yoochun and the room becomes unbelievably hot. They go back to Yoochun's flat and fuck.
Yoochun wakes up to a note on the opposite pillow.
Again, sometime. x
Pairing: Yoosu.
Rating: R.
A/N: I was hastily persuaded. :D This is part two. Part one: here. Short and sweet.
He phones the number five times before he even lets it ring.
He lets out a sigh and puffs his cheeks. He presses the redial button and takes a deep breath, three rings and then:
"Hello?"
Yoochun chokes on his spit and then attempts to regain himself. What ever happened to calm and composed? "Hello?" It comes again, the smile evident in the person at the other end's voice. "Um, hi. It's the guy from the outdoor café?" He questions, unsure.
"Oh, you must be looking for Junsu. I'll go get him." He hears feet scuffling along a carpeted floor, a brief conversation and then hands fumbling. His throat goes dry.
"Hello?"The voice is again, amazing. Dark, husky, sexy. He bumbles over his syllables for a minute, stops and breathes deep through his nose. "I'm Yoochun." Then there's a laugh, eu kyang kyang. Yoochun's pretty sure his heart just flatlines. "Junsu."
"So, what do you do?" Yoochun feels something shift in his pants and similarly in his brain. From there the conversations flows.
They arrange to meet on Thursday evening.
--
Junsu stands with one hip cocked against the wall. His hair is perfectly styled into messy spikes. Yoochun smooths his own mop with his hand out of insecurity.
"Hi." He mumbles a small smile and an awkward wave.
Junsu grabs him by the collar.
He kisses him. Hard, fast. Soft, slow. Everything. All at once. Junsu gives him it there an then. He tastes like expensive cigarettes. A comparison to the probable taste of the cheap ones on Yoochun's tongue. There's the overwhelming scent of Junsu, everything Junsu, filling his nostrils. He can't think straight. He just feels and smells. Feels Junsu hip bones under his thumbs. Feels Junsu's tongue against his. Smells aftershave and hair gel. Smells men.
They got to a club. They dance. Junsu rubs against Yoochun and the room becomes unbelievably hot. They go back to Yoochun's flat and fuck.
Yoochun wakes up to a note on the opposite pillow.
Again, sometime. x