tenacity (kangin/yesung)
Pairing: Kangin/Yesung
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "Fuck you." "In your dreams, maybe."
A/N: Well I suppose this is dedicated to maknaes again since I promised her 2woon smut roughly ten years ago (see, no feelings this time okay!!). I had one sitting in my documents going absolutely nowhere and it was grating on me, so I wrote this tonight instead :D
“Quit biting your nails,” Kangin says without looking up, and Yesung is, as ever, faintly amazed at how little time it takes him to get incredibly pissed off at something Kangin has said.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d turned into my stylist. I’ll take your criticisms into account,” he says, in as acidic a tone he can muster, and throws the magazine he’d been reading at Kangin’s head to emphasise his point (quite justly, he feels). Kangin ducks, the magazine hits the wall behind him, and Yesung can’t fail to notice the self-satisfied smile plastered onto his face.
He kind of wants to strangle him.
---
“Hey, mind watching where you’re blowing that smoke?”
Yesung is already freezing, already has to smoke outside in the middle of winter because Leeteuk was starting to get precious about everything in the dorm smelling like an ashtray. The last thing he needs, now or at any other point in his life, is Kangin trying to be a smartass about it.
“Hey, mind smoking somewhere else then?” he bites back, taking another drag in an effort to stop his teeth chattering.
“Yeah, I mind,” Kangin says. Yesung tosses his lighter to him, watches as he sparks up, breathes out a mixture of smoke and cold.
“Of course you mind.”
“Of course I mind.” He’s smiling again and Yesung figures by this point he’s doing it purely to drive him up the wall, so he just huddles deeper into his jacket and doesn’t say anything.
“Do you mind?” he says after a few seconds, voice light and conversational.
“Do I mind what?”
“You know, being around me. Does it piss you off that much, huh?”
‘Yes’ is probably the right answer, but Kangin is suddenly backing him up against the wall of the building and he can’t say that, can’t say ‘no’ or even ‘what’. ‘Wait’ or ‘stop’ might have been good ones too, but his cigarette drops from numb fingers and Kangin has his arms on either side of him, effectively trapping him, and he breathes in a lungful of ice-cold air and --
-- and Kangin stuffs a fistful of snow down the back of his jacket, and Yesung twists into an impossibly uncomfortable position automatically trying to get rid of it, calling Kangin every single curse word he can think of and a couple he may have just invented.
But then of course Kangin does push him against the wall properly, and the snow is crushed and dripping and uncomfortable against the back of his neck but he momentarily forgets to care, momentarily forgets anything else exists because Kangin kisses him, bites his lip (hard), pulls away and laughs again. If it was anyone else, Yesung would be pretty fucking sick of them laughing all the goddamn time, but considering, he thinks it’s not that bad.
(He keeps this thought to himself, though.)
---
“God, you piss me off,” Yesung says, hoping they can pretend that the end of his sentence doesn’t get cut off when Kangin sinks his teeth into his neck.
“Hey, you might want to try a new record,” Kangin says, breathing heat against his skin, “I’ve heard that one too often.”
“Stop being an asshole and you wouldn’t hear it.”
“You wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t an asshole,” Kangin reasons, “would you?”
“Yes,” Yesung gasps, a little desperately, because Kangin punctuated his sentence by moving his hips sharply, and then he tries, “I mean, no,” and then he decides to settle for, “fuck, I don’t know, I don’t care, shut up, just move.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Kangin says cheerfully, but Yesung scrapes his nails down his back hard, without warning, and Kangin lets out a choked noise, and he loves that Yesung always gives as good as he gets.
He gets the message, though. He shuts up, swallowing the noises Yesung makes instead, loving that their kisses inevitably become a clash of teeth and blood, thinking that Yesung looks kind of savagely beautiful when he arches his back, tosses his head to the side. The next time he bites Yesung’s neck it is with a possessive growl.
He traces a finger along Yesung’s inner thigh, because when a muscle twitches there he knows he’s close, watches Yesung shudder and loves the fact that there is nobody else that Yesung would lose control so completely for. (Then again, as Yesung pulls him down for a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair in a decidedly rough way, Kangin reflects that, hey, there’s nobody else he would be this way for, either.)
---
“You have,” Yesung says afterwards, taking a second or two to let his heart rate catch up with the rest of him, “my lighter, still.”
“Oh yeah,” Kangin says, thinks for a second, then continues, lips curving into a smirk, “what are you going to do about it?”
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "Fuck you." "In your dreams, maybe."
A/N: Well I suppose this is dedicated to maknaes again since I promised her 2woon smut roughly ten years ago (see, no feelings this time okay!!). I had one sitting in my documents going absolutely nowhere and it was grating on me, so I wrote this tonight instead :D
“Quit biting your nails,” Kangin says without looking up, and Yesung is, as ever, faintly amazed at how little time it takes him to get incredibly pissed off at something Kangin has said.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d turned into my stylist. I’ll take your criticisms into account,” he says, in as acidic a tone he can muster, and throws the magazine he’d been reading at Kangin’s head to emphasise his point (quite justly, he feels). Kangin ducks, the magazine hits the wall behind him, and Yesung can’t fail to notice the self-satisfied smile plastered onto his face.
He kind of wants to strangle him.
---
“Hey, mind watching where you’re blowing that smoke?”
Yesung is already freezing, already has to smoke outside in the middle of winter because Leeteuk was starting to get precious about everything in the dorm smelling like an ashtray. The last thing he needs, now or at any other point in his life, is Kangin trying to be a smartass about it.
“Hey, mind smoking somewhere else then?” he bites back, taking another drag in an effort to stop his teeth chattering.
“Yeah, I mind,” Kangin says. Yesung tosses his lighter to him, watches as he sparks up, breathes out a mixture of smoke and cold.
“Of course you mind.”
“Of course I mind.” He’s smiling again and Yesung figures by this point he’s doing it purely to drive him up the wall, so he just huddles deeper into his jacket and doesn’t say anything.
“Do you mind?” he says after a few seconds, voice light and conversational.
“Do I mind what?”
“You know, being around me. Does it piss you off that much, huh?”
‘Yes’ is probably the right answer, but Kangin is suddenly backing him up against the wall of the building and he can’t say that, can’t say ‘no’ or even ‘what’. ‘Wait’ or ‘stop’ might have been good ones too, but his cigarette drops from numb fingers and Kangin has his arms on either side of him, effectively trapping him, and he breathes in a lungful of ice-cold air and --
-- and Kangin stuffs a fistful of snow down the back of his jacket, and Yesung twists into an impossibly uncomfortable position automatically trying to get rid of it, calling Kangin every single curse word he can think of and a couple he may have just invented.
But then of course Kangin does push him against the wall properly, and the snow is crushed and dripping and uncomfortable against the back of his neck but he momentarily forgets to care, momentarily forgets anything else exists because Kangin kisses him, bites his lip (hard), pulls away and laughs again. If it was anyone else, Yesung would be pretty fucking sick of them laughing all the goddamn time, but considering, he thinks it’s not that bad.
(He keeps this thought to himself, though.)
---
“God, you piss me off,” Yesung says, hoping they can pretend that the end of his sentence doesn’t get cut off when Kangin sinks his teeth into his neck.
“Hey, you might want to try a new record,” Kangin says, breathing heat against his skin, “I’ve heard that one too often.”
“Stop being an asshole and you wouldn’t hear it.”
“You wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t an asshole,” Kangin reasons, “would you?”
“Yes,” Yesung gasps, a little desperately, because Kangin punctuated his sentence by moving his hips sharply, and then he tries, “I mean, no,” and then he decides to settle for, “fuck, I don’t know, I don’t care, shut up, just move.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Kangin says cheerfully, but Yesung scrapes his nails down his back hard, without warning, and Kangin lets out a choked noise, and he loves that Yesung always gives as good as he gets.
He gets the message, though. He shuts up, swallowing the noises Yesung makes instead, loving that their kisses inevitably become a clash of teeth and blood, thinking that Yesung looks kind of savagely beautiful when he arches his back, tosses his head to the side. The next time he bites Yesung’s neck it is with a possessive growl.
He traces a finger along Yesung’s inner thigh, because when a muscle twitches there he knows he’s close, watches Yesung shudder and loves the fact that there is nobody else that Yesung would lose control so completely for. (Then again, as Yesung pulls him down for a kiss, tangling his fingers in his hair in a decidedly rough way, Kangin reflects that, hey, there’s nobody else he would be this way for, either.)
---
“You have,” Yesung says afterwards, taking a second or two to let his heart rate catch up with the rest of him, “my lighter, still.”
“Oh yeah,” Kangin says, thinks for a second, then continues, lips curving into a smirk, “what are you going to do about it?”