a fine line
Title: a fine line
Author: theraincometh
Pairing: Junhyung/Hyunseung or Junseung
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Junhyung knows it's okay because it's experimenting.
AN: Here goes nothing, my first fanfiction. Just something that I had an itch to write after reading so much incredible writing from my Junseung idol, clandestine_7, who is a wonderful author and a lovely person to boot.
A bit of tongue, a little bit French. Sloppy in the the borrowed Honda, feet kicking against a windowpane like the desperate, unthinkable words banging around in Junhyung's mouth when they're together like this. Being together, like this, Junhyung knows it's okay because it's experimenting. Organic chemistry in the backseat.
"What are we doing," Hyunseung mumbles from where he's lying underneath Junhyung, jeans twisted around his ankles, loose v-neck shoved up to his armpits. The question is rhetorical, but he doesn't miss the longing note in Hyunseung's voice-when he talks, the skin of his voice is peeled back to reveal the raw, red heart underneath. Hyunseung wants love, that much is obvious. Junhyung feels his own heart thump hungrily in his rib cage at the idea, a bird in a bell jar beating its wings.
Hyunseung the freak, Hyunseung the weirdo, Hyunseung the dancer kid, Hyunseung the faggot. Hears the words as clearly as if his friends were whispering them in his ear, their words hard and corrosive, their hands tight around his throat. Not half as clearly as he's experiencing Hyunseung, pale skin and dark hair, warm and agreeable beneath him.
He works a knee inexpertly into the fork of Hyunseung's legs with a stuttered breath, relying only on pure instinct. Something entirely better than rational thought-a carnal thirst, simple and instinctive. No matter how real and pressing everyone else is otherwise, everything that's not Hyunseung ceases to exist with Hyunseung pliant below him, Hyunseung arching his back, Hyunseung clutching at Junhyung's ribs as he draws the two wayward curves of their bodies together. Hyunseung and his ragged gasps like something beautiful clawing its way out of his lungs.
Hyunseung and a name bursting from his red lips. Triggers a great stirring in Junhyung's gut. He runs his thumb along Hyunseung's jaw, presses his lips greedily against the elegant sweep of a collarbone to remind himself-it's sex and the scientific method and they are just testing a hypothesis, two starving boys thrown together. But Junhyung wants to cry at the injustice of it all. Of all boys, Hyunseung.
Hyunseung, who makes Junhyung feel so stupid and shameful. When they're together outside of the car it's nothing easy and instinctual like it is now. Junhyung hates how uncomfortable and flushed he feels when Hyunseung asks one of his bizarre questions, how stiff and square his shoulders are even as Hyunseung giggles, how hard and tight in his chest he feels when he notices the intensity in Hyunseung's eyes.
Junhyung licks his lips nervously when he becomes conscious of where his mind has wandered. Tastes an alien flavor on his tongue and swallows. So Hyunseung wants love and Junhyung, Junhyung wants-Hyunseung. But you can't want love and I can't want you. Hyunseung's face is shining with sweat, his thin chest is heaving, and his lips are parted mid-needy query. It makes the heat behind Junhyung's belly button coil. Hyunseung looks fresh from some sexual purgatory. I can't even like you. Looks as flushed and exhilarated as he does that first day when Junhyung caught him practicing his dancing alone in the park. No one likes you. You're weird. His fingers clench on Hyunseung's shoulders. You're a guy.
A caveat in Junhyung's throat. You're a guy. You're a guy you're a guy you're a guy. Somewhere in his mind he wants out of Hyunseung's poisonous embrace, but he makes no move to push him away. What are we doing, he echoes to himself, his knees on either side of Hyunseung's thighs, Hyunseung's fingers winding through his belt loops-what am I doing, he thinks at the technicolor explosion in his chest when Hyunseung grabs Junhyung's face with both hands and kisses him hungrily, tongue laving at the inside of his mouth. He tastes like pine. Junhyung feels terror in the form of a swell in his lungs that makes him feel like he could inhale forever. One more breath in this lifetime.
Oh, burgeoning terror. A chemical imbalance in his chest making him weaker. The slow sunbeams streaking in through the grime on the windows marble Hyunseung's skin, sweat glues his hair to his forehead in sticky clumps, and his splayed legs are skinny and pale. Junhyung wishes for all of it to make him ugly but it doesn't. Not even a little. Junhyung hates himself, loves himself. Presses his forehead to Hyunseung's chest and forgets himself.
"Experimenting." He finds words in his mouth. Then breathes them in and wishes they were true.