(no subject)
title: they're young and alive
author: chartre
rating: nc-17
pairing: jiyong/seungri
summary: seungri’s first kiss is slow, jiyong merely nipping on his bottom lip and it’s warm and wet.
notes: fiction. plotless smut, because the plot refused to come to the smut, but i hope it's good enough to make us all happy. \o/
They're Young and Alive
jiyong/seungri
He looks so small against the wall, Seungri looks so small, so delicate and young and hands clenched into a ball over his chest, and Jiyong can’t help but wonder how this is all so real, how he is so real, so intense in the eyes. It’s all too similar to a certain likeness in the boy: clothing, the way Jiyong wears it-unique, versatile-is pressed nicely against the slim of his body, and it’s so much like his Seungri, his maknae because he’s different, he’s perfect and he’s sliding against Jiyong’s body when they kiss in the quiet of the darkened corners of the corridor.
The pace isn’t as telling as the hurried kisses in between. Jiyong raises his hips and Seungri groans when they try to fit their mouths together, pushing Seungri’s back up against the wall, and ghosting his hands under his shirt.
Seungri’s first kiss is slow, Jiyong merely nipping on his bottom lip and it’s warm and wet. His lips quiver and Jiyong can feel that, his breath dusting on his cheek when he sighs. Jiyong kisses him again like that and slides his tongue in Seungri’s mouth. It’s when the kid already knows what he’s doing-and what he’s actually capable of-that they stumble into bed, Seungri lying on his back under Jiyong.
“Ji,” the younger boy whispers in the dark, hands shaking within the grasp of Jiyong’s shoulders. Jiyong shoves his hips forward and Seungri moans a little louder.
“It’ll be okay,” Jiyong whispers back against his neck and fingers through the waistband of the boy’s underwear. There is barely any light in the room; just a faint light outside the window from the flickering lamppost but Jiyong can make out the smooth curves of Seungri’s body, white and soft under his touch. He looks so vulnerable under him like this; hair splayed everywhere, shirt riding up to his armpits and his eyes shining with something he’s never seen before. Jiyong has every reason to believe he’s never seen this side of his dear maknae, and it’s delusional.
Jiyong tilts Seungri’s chin up a little to kiss him on the lips, and Seungri smiles.
“Why are you smiling?” Jiyong grins, and then Seungri giggles. Jiyong tries to restrain himself between his legs.
He lets a hand slide under Seungri’s shirt, the skin on his sides soft and warm and his knees jerk apart with sudden haste when Jiyong tugs on his nipple with his teeth and sucks, and then he’s slowly pushing his shoulders away.
“What’s wrong?”
Seungri flushes. “I-”
Jiyong smirks and reaches for the boy’s knees, pulls them apart slowly while Seungri complies, a little more willingly, bottom lip between teeth.
He pulls his jeans off his hips, his knees, and then his ankles before he can see it: Seungri hard for him beneath the fabric with his legs wide open and his shirt pushed up high. Jiyong licks his lips.
“Don’t,” Seungri pleads when Jiyong bends down to kiss his cock above the fabric, massaging his thighs lovingly. He doesn’t stop, however; he knows Seungri wants it when he’s curling his fingers into his hair.
He’s probably seen this before, in Jiyong’s head where his thoughts are confined for his own liking, and so when he pulls on the garter and takes the head into his mouth-a mere experimental lick-Seungri cries out things Jiyong wouldn’t otherwise believe.
He starts to let his tongue work along the underside of his cock sucks down the base, letting stifled noises escape his throat while he does. Seungri can feel the heat coiling at his stomach and down, body mostly flustered from Jiyong pulls back and presses back in, his lips wet and his tongue hot and excitable.
“Jiyong-” Seungri’s breath hitches as he tugs lightly at the hair in his clenched fist. He tries to look down between his legs-and when he does, Jiyong catches him with a glance: eyes dark and half-lidded with the anticipation they both know while he’s got him almost entirely in his mouth, but also so soft it’s intoxicating, Seungri probably thinks he’s almost there.
Jiyong searches for a bottle of lotion and coats his fingers. He tells Seungri to lie on his back, as he waits nervously, patiently.
The first finger slides in tightly, and it makes Seungri shout and it hurts, Jiyong telling him to calm down and relax. He slides in a second and he’s a little loose now, more relaxed, until Jiyong suddenly hits something inside him and Seungri gasps.
Jiyong finds it interesting. He curls his fingers and Seungri gasps again, even louder, his knees twitching against the mattress with curse words attached in soft, short pants.
“Ji-” Seungri whines quietly into the pillow and Jiyong presses kisses on the back of his neck. He’s biting back moans but Jiyong encourages it, kisses the hard of his stomach and along the softer curves of his muscles.
He tells him to face him now and Seungri swallows down his heart. This is it.
Jiyong shoves his hips forward and Seungri moans, throws his head back. As Jiyong leaned forward with the boy’s legs between his hips, asking if he’s alright, Seungri realizes that there’s absolutely nothing painful about this because Jiyong is amazingly careful with words and actions, a kiss or two here or there when Seungri feels discomfort, and so he smiles at him and says he’s fine, he’s completely fine.
By the fifth push, he’s already digging hard lines into Jiyong’s shoulders, his thin legs wrapped around his hips with his toes curled and his knees almost touching. The rush of pain becomes nothing to him; the burn of Jiyong’s cock sliding against the ring of muscle, the friction, the blistering of his hips when Jiyong thrusts back inside him, it all becomes less than a feeling because this is Jiyong, breathing kisses down his neck and holding his knees on either side of his hips.
Seungri winces, makes a quiet sort of noise in his throat, and Jiyong notices, and slows the pace down for his comfort. But Seungri urges him otherwise and spreads his legs further, and that’s rather telling. A little harder. Deeper. Seungri tells him with the glisten in his eyes and Jiyong can read them well like an opened book as he suddenly thrusts back in deep and hard and oh god, god, oh god-
“Jiyong,” Seungri gasps louder, his voice hitching, “Jiyong.”
“I’m almost there,” Jiyong whispers and picks up the pace, slides back in and out, in and out, deeper and Seungri’s knees tighten as they bruise on his hips. He’s screaming now, Jiyong’s name over and over again, voice above anything else and the noise he’s making encourages Jiyong further.
Something happens, and Jiyong comes inside him with a grunt then a heavy sigh. Seungri climaxes on the final thrust and they fall against the mattress almost immediately.
Jiyong lies on his chest for awhile, catching his breath. He pulls out slowly in mere minutes, Seungri still clinging onto his neck. For awhile they don’t move mostly because it’s nice, this is nice, falling asleep like this with Jiyong spooning his maknae from behind.
He kisses the back of Seungri’s neck lovingly as they pull a blanket over and hold hands under the covers.
author: chartre
rating: nc-17
pairing: jiyong/seungri
summary: seungri’s first kiss is slow, jiyong merely nipping on his bottom lip and it’s warm and wet.
notes: fiction. plotless smut, because the plot refused to come to the smut, but i hope it's good enough to make us all happy. \o/
They're Young and Alive
jiyong/seungri
He looks so small against the wall, Seungri looks so small, so delicate and young and hands clenched into a ball over his chest, and Jiyong can’t help but wonder how this is all so real, how he is so real, so intense in the eyes. It’s all too similar to a certain likeness in the boy: clothing, the way Jiyong wears it-unique, versatile-is pressed nicely against the slim of his body, and it’s so much like his Seungri, his maknae because he’s different, he’s perfect and he’s sliding against Jiyong’s body when they kiss in the quiet of the darkened corners of the corridor.
The pace isn’t as telling as the hurried kisses in between. Jiyong raises his hips and Seungri groans when they try to fit their mouths together, pushing Seungri’s back up against the wall, and ghosting his hands under his shirt.
Seungri’s first kiss is slow, Jiyong merely nipping on his bottom lip and it’s warm and wet. His lips quiver and Jiyong can feel that, his breath dusting on his cheek when he sighs. Jiyong kisses him again like that and slides his tongue in Seungri’s mouth. It’s when the kid already knows what he’s doing-and what he’s actually capable of-that they stumble into bed, Seungri lying on his back under Jiyong.
“Ji,” the younger boy whispers in the dark, hands shaking within the grasp of Jiyong’s shoulders. Jiyong shoves his hips forward and Seungri moans a little louder.
“It’ll be okay,” Jiyong whispers back against his neck and fingers through the waistband of the boy’s underwear. There is barely any light in the room; just a faint light outside the window from the flickering lamppost but Jiyong can make out the smooth curves of Seungri’s body, white and soft under his touch. He looks so vulnerable under him like this; hair splayed everywhere, shirt riding up to his armpits and his eyes shining with something he’s never seen before. Jiyong has every reason to believe he’s never seen this side of his dear maknae, and it’s delusional.
Jiyong tilts Seungri’s chin up a little to kiss him on the lips, and Seungri smiles.
“Why are you smiling?” Jiyong grins, and then Seungri giggles. Jiyong tries to restrain himself between his legs.
He lets a hand slide under Seungri’s shirt, the skin on his sides soft and warm and his knees jerk apart with sudden haste when Jiyong tugs on his nipple with his teeth and sucks, and then he’s slowly pushing his shoulders away.
“What’s wrong?”
Seungri flushes. “I-”
Jiyong smirks and reaches for the boy’s knees, pulls them apart slowly while Seungri complies, a little more willingly, bottom lip between teeth.
He pulls his jeans off his hips, his knees, and then his ankles before he can see it: Seungri hard for him beneath the fabric with his legs wide open and his shirt pushed up high. Jiyong licks his lips.
“Don’t,” Seungri pleads when Jiyong bends down to kiss his cock above the fabric, massaging his thighs lovingly. He doesn’t stop, however; he knows Seungri wants it when he’s curling his fingers into his hair.
He’s probably seen this before, in Jiyong’s head where his thoughts are confined for his own liking, and so when he pulls on the garter and takes the head into his mouth-a mere experimental lick-Seungri cries out things Jiyong wouldn’t otherwise believe.
He starts to let his tongue work along the underside of his cock sucks down the base, letting stifled noises escape his throat while he does. Seungri can feel the heat coiling at his stomach and down, body mostly flustered from Jiyong pulls back and presses back in, his lips wet and his tongue hot and excitable.
“Jiyong-” Seungri’s breath hitches as he tugs lightly at the hair in his clenched fist. He tries to look down between his legs-and when he does, Jiyong catches him with a glance: eyes dark and half-lidded with the anticipation they both know while he’s got him almost entirely in his mouth, but also so soft it’s intoxicating, Seungri probably thinks he’s almost there.
Jiyong searches for a bottle of lotion and coats his fingers. He tells Seungri to lie on his back, as he waits nervously, patiently.
The first finger slides in tightly, and it makes Seungri shout and it hurts, Jiyong telling him to calm down and relax. He slides in a second and he’s a little loose now, more relaxed, until Jiyong suddenly hits something inside him and Seungri gasps.
Jiyong finds it interesting. He curls his fingers and Seungri gasps again, even louder, his knees twitching against the mattress with curse words attached in soft, short pants.
“Ji-” Seungri whines quietly into the pillow and Jiyong presses kisses on the back of his neck. He’s biting back moans but Jiyong encourages it, kisses the hard of his stomach and along the softer curves of his muscles.
He tells him to face him now and Seungri swallows down his heart. This is it.
Jiyong shoves his hips forward and Seungri moans, throws his head back. As Jiyong leaned forward with the boy’s legs between his hips, asking if he’s alright, Seungri realizes that there’s absolutely nothing painful about this because Jiyong is amazingly careful with words and actions, a kiss or two here or there when Seungri feels discomfort, and so he smiles at him and says he’s fine, he’s completely fine.
By the fifth push, he’s already digging hard lines into Jiyong’s shoulders, his thin legs wrapped around his hips with his toes curled and his knees almost touching. The rush of pain becomes nothing to him; the burn of Jiyong’s cock sliding against the ring of muscle, the friction, the blistering of his hips when Jiyong thrusts back inside him, it all becomes less than a feeling because this is Jiyong, breathing kisses down his neck and holding his knees on either side of his hips.
Seungri winces, makes a quiet sort of noise in his throat, and Jiyong notices, and slows the pace down for his comfort. But Seungri urges him otherwise and spreads his legs further, and that’s rather telling. A little harder. Deeper. Seungri tells him with the glisten in his eyes and Jiyong can read them well like an opened book as he suddenly thrusts back in deep and hard and oh god, god, oh god-
“Jiyong,” Seungri gasps louder, his voice hitching, “Jiyong.”
“I’m almost there,” Jiyong whispers and picks up the pace, slides back in and out, in and out, deeper and Seungri’s knees tighten as they bruise on his hips. He’s screaming now, Jiyong’s name over and over again, voice above anything else and the noise he’s making encourages Jiyong further.
Something happens, and Jiyong comes inside him with a grunt then a heavy sigh. Seungri climaxes on the final thrust and they fall against the mattress almost immediately.
Jiyong lies on his chest for awhile, catching his breath. He pulls out slowly in mere minutes, Seungri still clinging onto his neck. For awhile they don’t move mostly because it’s nice, this is nice, falling asleep like this with Jiyong spooning his maknae from behind.
He kisses the back of Seungri’s neck lovingly as they pull a blanket over and hold hands under the covers.