Frozen 1/1
Author's note: For cherrypalomita and the lovely person who requested a Jaejoong/You from LONG ago. :'( So late with this. As usual, an open mind goes a long way~
You wake at six o’clock sharp. You always feel a bit cool then, shivering as you wake. This day is no different. The daylight begins to creep in within minutes, sliding up your bed like a longing lover, and you see it at it starts to tease at your feet. You watch the light crawl with intrigue, like it’s trying to hold onto you and pull you into itself. It is warmth, but it is unwelcome. Your bed is empty, and you’d rather coldly stay by yourself than open yourself to a wide, warm world of loneliness.
“Work,” you sigh to yourself, as if the reminder of the alarm wasn’t alert enough.
You lay back down in bed, shifting until you reach chilled sheets again as your sight struggles with the rays of sunlight that peer through the shades of your window.
---
Work comes and goes, as it always does. You walk three blocks there, wait tables and clean for a ridiculous amount of time. It passes quickly though, as it always does. Such is your monotonous life. You walk three blocks there, passing a shadowed alleyway, then walk the three back later, passing the same shadowed alleyway.
That day is different.
You pause in front of the alleyway during your night’s walk home, feeling eyes on you, and just as quick as the feeling comes, it goes. A shiver runs up your spine as the wind shifts and scraps of paper move in the lone, long alley. It’s cool for a moment, but it isn’t unwelcome.
You walk the rest of the way home.
---
It’s six o’clock sharp. Another day of sleep and you wake up feeling cool again. That same shiver runs up your spine. The rays of the sun soon slither into your room once more, and you can’t help missing the dark once it leaves.
---
Work comes and goes and again, you feel that chill. You feel pulled to that discreet alley in the dark of night. It calls to you, like a moth to flame, and as you peer into it, you swear you see someone coming toward you.
They almost glide as they get closer and closer, and goose bumps raise on your skin.
“Wait!” you hear a voice call. It’s someone insignificant from the shop, returning something you’d dropped earlier. They run back to where they came from and the chill is gone. Whoever was coming to you is gone. You look back into the alley and see no one. You feel nothing. You feel everything. You feel lost.
As you peer down at your feet, you notice your position in the dark. Your toes have dipped out of the lamplight of the street and breach the dark of the alley. You wriggle them slightly inside your shoes, wondering when you’d moved forward.
---
You leave work the next day and wait by that tragic split in the buildings. You stand there hoping for movement; something to happen. Eyes focus and refocus as they try to gain their way into the shades of night.
The air is warm. You feel sticky, and the sweat that drips down your forehead is an alert that you’ve waited too long. It feels disgusting and you wipe it away harshly. It slugs down your skin, leaving a salty reminder that you’re too warm, the one feeling you hate.
---
You rush home and keep the lights off after you enter. One is finally turned on in the bathroom as you run ice cold water to rinse off your face. It feels good, breaking the rising temperature on your skin. You grab the nearest towel and pat your face dry.
You still feel warm, so you begin removing your clothes, letting them drop to the floor like so many pieces of dirt. You fan yourself with the towel and blot at any rivulets of water that have gone to the floor.
Suddenly, the chill is back.
You look in the mirror and gaze at your reflection before tipping your head back. Your eyes close and you let the feeling go all over your skin. It’s like hands are running up the back of your spine, pressing so deep that your nerves are suddenly relaxed. Your body doesn’t feel like you control it anymore, and your head comes back down to gaze into the mirror intently. You’re alone, but see the slightest imprint of fingers gripping at your neck. It doesn’t frighten you, just confuses you slightly. You feel your head tilt and a sharp pain punctures itself at your neck.
Unknown to you, someone is with you, caressing your back and cooing lowly into your ear.
“Shhh…” he says. “Let go…”
It says its name is Jaejoong, though you cannot see a face in the mirror, only slight spurts of blood coming out of your neck and disappearing into nothingness. The cold is fierce and taking over your body, making you mentally collapse in on yourself. Your body is rigid until the rubs it further. A hand comes around your middle and his body is flush against yours, freezing you completely as life slowly drains from your body. He’s holding you up and you want to faint and let the darkness close in on you. It seems so peaceful after the initial pain, after his initial words. You feel your heart slowing and stopping, before he commands you.
“Drink.”
Something wet trails over your lips, and you can see red smearing over them through hooded eyes. You hear the voice again-
“Drink-“
-and begin to suckle on whatever is blocking your lips. It feels like a wrist; cold and delicate and perfect.
As your head begins to spin with the fluids coming into your mouth, your senses are heightened for a moment. He’s all around you. You’ve moved and his wrist no longer exists. The plush lips of his mouth have replaced them in his rapid movement, and you can feel the smile that erupts behind them when you begin to lick at them. You feel two sharp prods of his teeth, even and sharp, as they lightly bite your lip and pull. They almost cut, but don’t. It’s exhilarating tasting him and when he pulls back, your eyes finally open in the dark. Everything is so clear, and his face is a beautiful, strange structure. Almond eyes glimmer and he licks at those pillow-like lips you’d just tasted. His teeth gleam in the shadowed light of the evening and he shifts his hips.
He’s already penetrated you.
You heave your chest out, clenching at sheets as he spreads your legs, fucking you slowly into insanity. You think you’re taking breaths, but you can taste the air. It’s empty and stale, and instead, you focus your senses to him. He smells like redemption, a savior in your world of morbid loneliness; of dreams that left you waking in a cold sweat and wanting something more in the hidden crypts of your mind. He feels like heaven, this unearthly thing, as he continues to slide in and out of you. Warmth has almost left your body and there is no sight of sweat, but you can smell both of you as you fuck.
“Jaejoong…” you say. “Jaejoong please…”
You turn your neck, stretching it out again. Your legs wrap around him and he slides fingers into your hair, sitting you up as he continues to lift and drop you slowly. You’re glad you get to see him like this, porcelain in the night and face coming to nuzzle around your neck and chest. It’s like he’d been waiting to take you, make you his, see if you’d acclimate to the idea. He’d read you correctly, seeing you come undone underneath his delicate but strong hands.
Jaejoong brings his hand up again and tears at the now-healed spot from before. It gushes slightly and drips onto the skin of your chest before it comes to your mouth. He goes in for your neck as he begins to pull more liquid out of you, and you ingest some of his. As you become more eager, hands wrapping around his back and holding him close, so does he, pumping in and out of you at an inhuman speed. It would have hurt you had it been earlier. Had you been the girl who could dip her toes into the sunlight again, you would have cried out from a pain that you didn’t want.
But this…this was anything but.
He nearly growls as you come, spurting out around him as he brings hands to your hips, continuing to make you ride him. Your hands fall but you scream, guttural and low and animalistic. Your hair is disheveled, falling all around him and you pull his mouth off of you, gaining some strength. Your hands pull his face to yours and you lick at his lips. You taste yourself, you taste him; you taste euphoria.
Jaejoong hasn’t finished but he slows, allowing you to further adjust to the changes to come. Your skin almost feels like it’s burning by that point, and you hope it’s from further arousal. He holds you, waiting for the shouts of pain that won’t come from pleasure. Soon enough, your heart has stopped as the two of you continue to make love, and that’s when he’s whispering in your ear and holding you close again, trying to get you through.
---
It’s six o’clock sharp. You know because the alarm rings, but you’re not in your bed. You’re in another corner of your room, sheets pulled from the bed. You’re over Jaejoong, watching the pieces of light trail over your bed as you continue to ride him quietly. Both of your bodies are ice cold in that corner, the one he use to watch you from each day before you woke. He tells you about the alleyway and that familiar pull you use to feel when you passed it. You’re ice cold, but you feel warm with him.
It is the first welcome warmth you’ve felt in a long time.
You wake at six o’clock sharp. You always feel a bit cool then, shivering as you wake. This day is no different. The daylight begins to creep in within minutes, sliding up your bed like a longing lover, and you see it at it starts to tease at your feet. You watch the light crawl with intrigue, like it’s trying to hold onto you and pull you into itself. It is warmth, but it is unwelcome. Your bed is empty, and you’d rather coldly stay by yourself than open yourself to a wide, warm world of loneliness.
“Work,” you sigh to yourself, as if the reminder of the alarm wasn’t alert enough.
You lay back down in bed, shifting until you reach chilled sheets again as your sight struggles with the rays of sunlight that peer through the shades of your window.
---
Work comes and goes, as it always does. You walk three blocks there, wait tables and clean for a ridiculous amount of time. It passes quickly though, as it always does. Such is your monotonous life. You walk three blocks there, passing a shadowed alleyway, then walk the three back later, passing the same shadowed alleyway.
That day is different.
You pause in front of the alleyway during your night’s walk home, feeling eyes on you, and just as quick as the feeling comes, it goes. A shiver runs up your spine as the wind shifts and scraps of paper move in the lone, long alley. It’s cool for a moment, but it isn’t unwelcome.
You walk the rest of the way home.
---
It’s six o’clock sharp. Another day of sleep and you wake up feeling cool again. That same shiver runs up your spine. The rays of the sun soon slither into your room once more, and you can’t help missing the dark once it leaves.
---
Work comes and goes and again, you feel that chill. You feel pulled to that discreet alley in the dark of night. It calls to you, like a moth to flame, and as you peer into it, you swear you see someone coming toward you.
They almost glide as they get closer and closer, and goose bumps raise on your skin.
“Wait!” you hear a voice call. It’s someone insignificant from the shop, returning something you’d dropped earlier. They run back to where they came from and the chill is gone. Whoever was coming to you is gone. You look back into the alley and see no one. You feel nothing. You feel everything. You feel lost.
As you peer down at your feet, you notice your position in the dark. Your toes have dipped out of the lamplight of the street and breach the dark of the alley. You wriggle them slightly inside your shoes, wondering when you’d moved forward.
---
You leave work the next day and wait by that tragic split in the buildings. You stand there hoping for movement; something to happen. Eyes focus and refocus as they try to gain their way into the shades of night.
The air is warm. You feel sticky, and the sweat that drips down your forehead is an alert that you’ve waited too long. It feels disgusting and you wipe it away harshly. It slugs down your skin, leaving a salty reminder that you’re too warm, the one feeling you hate.
---
You rush home and keep the lights off after you enter. One is finally turned on in the bathroom as you run ice cold water to rinse off your face. It feels good, breaking the rising temperature on your skin. You grab the nearest towel and pat your face dry.
You still feel warm, so you begin removing your clothes, letting them drop to the floor like so many pieces of dirt. You fan yourself with the towel and blot at any rivulets of water that have gone to the floor.
Suddenly, the chill is back.
You look in the mirror and gaze at your reflection before tipping your head back. Your eyes close and you let the feeling go all over your skin. It’s like hands are running up the back of your spine, pressing so deep that your nerves are suddenly relaxed. Your body doesn’t feel like you control it anymore, and your head comes back down to gaze into the mirror intently. You’re alone, but see the slightest imprint of fingers gripping at your neck. It doesn’t frighten you, just confuses you slightly. You feel your head tilt and a sharp pain punctures itself at your neck.
Unknown to you, someone is with you, caressing your back and cooing lowly into your ear.
“Shhh…” he says. “Let go…”
It says its name is Jaejoong, though you cannot see a face in the mirror, only slight spurts of blood coming out of your neck and disappearing into nothingness. The cold is fierce and taking over your body, making you mentally collapse in on yourself. Your body is rigid until the rubs it further. A hand comes around your middle and his body is flush against yours, freezing you completely as life slowly drains from your body. He’s holding you up and you want to faint and let the darkness close in on you. It seems so peaceful after the initial pain, after his initial words. You feel your heart slowing and stopping, before he commands you.
“Drink.”
Something wet trails over your lips, and you can see red smearing over them through hooded eyes. You hear the voice again-
“Drink-“
-and begin to suckle on whatever is blocking your lips. It feels like a wrist; cold and delicate and perfect.
As your head begins to spin with the fluids coming into your mouth, your senses are heightened for a moment. He’s all around you. You’ve moved and his wrist no longer exists. The plush lips of his mouth have replaced them in his rapid movement, and you can feel the smile that erupts behind them when you begin to lick at them. You feel two sharp prods of his teeth, even and sharp, as they lightly bite your lip and pull. They almost cut, but don’t. It’s exhilarating tasting him and when he pulls back, your eyes finally open in the dark. Everything is so clear, and his face is a beautiful, strange structure. Almond eyes glimmer and he licks at those pillow-like lips you’d just tasted. His teeth gleam in the shadowed light of the evening and he shifts his hips.
He’s already penetrated you.
You heave your chest out, clenching at sheets as he spreads your legs, fucking you slowly into insanity. You think you’re taking breaths, but you can taste the air. It’s empty and stale, and instead, you focus your senses to him. He smells like redemption, a savior in your world of morbid loneliness; of dreams that left you waking in a cold sweat and wanting something more in the hidden crypts of your mind. He feels like heaven, this unearthly thing, as he continues to slide in and out of you. Warmth has almost left your body and there is no sight of sweat, but you can smell both of you as you fuck.
“Jaejoong…” you say. “Jaejoong please…”
You turn your neck, stretching it out again. Your legs wrap around him and he slides fingers into your hair, sitting you up as he continues to lift and drop you slowly. You’re glad you get to see him like this, porcelain in the night and face coming to nuzzle around your neck and chest. It’s like he’d been waiting to take you, make you his, see if you’d acclimate to the idea. He’d read you correctly, seeing you come undone underneath his delicate but strong hands.
Jaejoong brings his hand up again and tears at the now-healed spot from before. It gushes slightly and drips onto the skin of your chest before it comes to your mouth. He goes in for your neck as he begins to pull more liquid out of you, and you ingest some of his. As you become more eager, hands wrapping around his back and holding him close, so does he, pumping in and out of you at an inhuman speed. It would have hurt you had it been earlier. Had you been the girl who could dip her toes into the sunlight again, you would have cried out from a pain that you didn’t want.
But this…this was anything but.
He nearly growls as you come, spurting out around him as he brings hands to your hips, continuing to make you ride him. Your hands fall but you scream, guttural and low and animalistic. Your hair is disheveled, falling all around him and you pull his mouth off of you, gaining some strength. Your hands pull his face to yours and you lick at his lips. You taste yourself, you taste him; you taste euphoria.
Jaejoong hasn’t finished but he slows, allowing you to further adjust to the changes to come. Your skin almost feels like it’s burning by that point, and you hope it’s from further arousal. He holds you, waiting for the shouts of pain that won’t come from pleasure. Soon enough, your heart has stopped as the two of you continue to make love, and that’s when he’s whispering in your ear and holding you close again, trying to get you through.
---
It’s six o’clock sharp. You know because the alarm rings, but you’re not in your bed. You’re in another corner of your room, sheets pulled from the bed. You’re over Jaejoong, watching the pieces of light trail over your bed as you continue to ride him quietly. Both of your bodies are ice cold in that corner, the one he use to watch you from each day before you woke. He tells you about the alleyway and that familiar pull you use to feel when you passed it. You’re ice cold, but you feel warm with him.
It is the first welcome warmth you’ve felt in a long time.