(no subject)
Title: Flavor of the month: Bittersweet Coffee
Author: waruiyume80
Summary: Kibum is a playboy who changes his girlfriend every month who then met a senior on the very first day of the month.
Pairing: Kisung, Kibum / Yesung
Chapters: 1, 2
Length: 3 / 6
Yesung didn’t know what prompted him to take the shortcuts of the winding back alleys to the train station. He just acted on it and stumbled upon a group of boys trashing the hell out of someone.
He stopped short, wondering if he should just turn back and leave them to their business when he heard a rather familiar voice shouting angrily.
He sighed tiredly. That kid was always causing trouble as he grabbed an unused chair and charged forward slamming hard as he was about to swing down a bat onto the battered lump. His friends stopped their abuse, stunned for a moment at the sudden intrusion.
“First you caused trouble in my club and now you’re beating up my fellow schoolmate?” Yesung said glancing around coldly.
“You again!” the one he had hit with the chair growled wiping the trickling blood from his face.
“Yes me again. You’ve got a problem with that dongsaeng? I can always tell my boys to hunt you down you know,” he drawled lazily staring down to him.
“Why the hell would you even do that? This has got nothing to do with you!” he yelled scrambling from the floor drawing to his full height.
“Just because I simply do not like your face,” Yesung answered glancing briefly at the curled up body, his white uniform seeping blood from some wound. “Ganging up on someone who doesn’t even fight back is unfair don’t you think?”
“And too think that all this violence was due to a girl. I can see why she left you though. You’re pathetic,” Yesung insulted him, smirking while shaking his head.
The boy’s eyes bulged with anger, his thick lips pursing into a thin line. A vein was popping out on the side of his head and he screamed lunging at him with that fat fist of his.
Yesung quickly blocked the blow. His other hand grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around. His friends shouted their rage and surged forward swinging their weapons wildly. Yesung smirked grabbing a fist of coarse hair with his free hand and backed away to the far wall, the grip on the boy’s wrist tightening in his hold.
“Come closer and I’ll break his arm,” he warned loudly but failed as they kept moving menacingly forward. Yesung shook his head twisting the pudgy arm with his might until there was a sickening ‘pop’ of shoulder disconnected from its socket. He almost went deaf with the painful scream stopping the boys from advancing looking almost bewildered by what happened.
“I don’t make empty threats. Leave now or I’ll do even worse,” he threatened them who were looking unsure as they waited for their whimpering friend to give his orders. The alley echoed with his screams again.
“Back off you stupid bastards! Do you want him to kill me!” his screams laced with pain and anger prompting them to mindlessly drop their weapons, eyeing him warily. Yesung gripped his hair tighter jerking back his head as he hooked his chin onto his shoulder, turning his mouth to his ear.
“Don’t you ever let me see you around him again you understand?” he could feel the boy stiffening in protest. He knew that he wasn’t going to heed his warning and tugged hard at the fistful of hair earning another howl.
“Do you understand?” he asked again.
“Yes! Yes! I get it! Now get the fuck off me!” he yelled angrily. Yesung pushed him away satisfied, his friends catching him as he stumbled over clinging onto his limp arm and they turned heel out of there.
“Did you really break his arm?” Kibum asked weakly, dragging his body to lean on a wall.
“It takes a lot of strength to break a bone. I only dislocated it. He’ll be fine when he sees a doctor,” he answered walking over to him crouching as he surveyed the damage that was done.
“Aishh… you’re such a mess. Why didn’t you fight back?” Yesung asked wiping the blood from his broken lips with the pad of his thumb. Kibum took hold of his hand drawing it away, intertwining his fingers with his.
“I just thought I’d be responsible,” he answered, a maddening grin hitched up his face and winced when it hurt. Yesung stared at him, astounded at his response before laughing his guts out annoying the younger boy.
“Why are you laughing? I’m hurting here,” Kibum asked squeezing his hand catching his attention again. The laughter tapered off to a stop as he studied him. Why was he laughing anyway? It wasn’t even remotely funny.
“Can you walk? Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said to him tugging at his hand lightly.
“No hospital. I don’t want to worry my mom,” he protested and winced when he tried to get up. Yesung sighed stooping down again, wrapping an arm on his waist and heaved back up.
“You should have thought of that before getting yourself into this.”
Yesung struggled and nearly slipped off the curb as he hauled Kibum to lean against him. He had drifted off somewhere along the ride in the cab and couldn’t get him to wake up as he just snuggled closer when they reached his place.
“Yesung? Is that you?” An auntie called out from the entrance of the flat.
“Ommanim! Could you help me?” he called out to her finding himself losing his grip on the boy. The auntie hurried over with a worried expression as he took in Kibum’s condition.
“What happened? Is he your friend Yesung?” she asked him.
“Yes. Ommanim please hurry, I can’t hold on much longer,” he begged as his knees nearly gave out under his weight. The plump motherly woman grabbed a hold of Kibum’s arm relieving some of his burden and they dragged him into the building.
“Thanks ommanim,” Yesung said wiping the sweat from his eyes after they dumped him on the living room couch. “I would offer you some tea if I didn’t have to attend to my friend.”
The woman waved a hand offhandedly, “You don’t have to. I have an appointment to keep,” she said and eyed the unconscious Kibum. “Do you think you can handle him alone?”
“I think I’ll manage,” he answered her. The matronly woman nodded getting up from the armchair and they headed to the door.
“Thanks again for helping me ommanim,” Yesung said again watching the woman leave and closed the door. Yesung returned to the living room to find Kibum trying to sit on the couch.
“Aishh, what are you doing?” Yesung said rushing over to help him.
“So I can call you Yesung now,” he said still sounding weak but with a satisfied smile gracing his still bloodied lips. Yesung arched an eyebrow depositing himself onto the low coffee table.
“I was trying to get the lady to hurry up so that you wouldn’t fall on me,” he answered crossing his arms loosely over his chest.
“But you said that I’m your friend twice,” he pointed out the smile turning into a smirk.
“That was because I had already told her that you’re my friend,” Yesung retorted. “Were you listening the whole time?”
“Yep,” he answered that smile back on his lips.
“You little brat and there I was struggling to get you out of that cab when you were actually awake,” he said disgruntled narrowing his eyes at him and left for the kitchen while the younger boy chuckled to himself.
Yesung came back out again with a bowl of warm water and a first aid box. He placed the items on the table and once again perched onto the table, inching closer with the wet towel that he had wrung.
Carefully he cleaned his face of the blood that was now dried, taking extra caution in places that were wounded.
“Take off your shirt,” Yesung ordered while he plastered a small gash on his cheek not noticing the way Kibum was watching him.
“My arms are numb right now,” he answered, his voice low. “Take it off for me.”
Yesung drew away and regarded him coolly. He knew that he wasn’t really hurting but he reached forward, his hands unbuttoning his dirtied shirt one by one revealing expanses of skin, showing the well toned body as he peeled off the shirt. It wasn’t all that bad really he thought as he rubbed in some medicated oil onto countless forming bruises, his fingers trailing the contour of his abs lightly.
He heard Kibum drew a breath and Yesung climbed onto the couch beside him pushing him forward gently, inspecting his back for any open wound. Yesung watched how he affected him as he traced the angry red welt across his back. A dab of blood welled from a small puncture where he had applied pressure, trickling down the back of his shoulder.
He didn’t know what came over him. He licked it clean tasting the coppery taste on his tongue.
Kibum stiffened with a hitched breath and suddenly Yesung found himself on his back, the younger boy atop him, his breathing unsteady watching him with a smoldering gaze. He bent down, his lips quickly inching closer and Yesung turned away that pair of lips finding his ear.
“What is it Kibum?” he was on dangerous ground here. He knew that he shouldn’t ask but apologize and plead temporary insanity. To push him away so that he won’t go over board with this foolishness.
“Just let me feel you,” he whispered and his hand tugged free his shirt slipping underneath it, caressing his flesh and Yesung closed his eyes tilting his head back. His body unwittingly arched towards his touch as it ascended towards his chest, fingers brushing lightly on the tip of his nipple making him moan. His other hand released the buckle from his belt and drew across his abdomen to his waist, dipping into the fabric, his fingers massaging the flesh of his bum eliciting another purr from the back of his throat.
Yesung’s mind was growing foggy as Kibum nipped his earlobe, the stinging pain a pleasure to him. He felt himself letting go. To just let Kibum do whatever he wanted to him. Be damned about not going overboard.
He felt himself being pulled up, straddling on Kibum’s laps, his arms wrapping around him holding him tight. His breathing starting to regulate as he stroked his back
“Had enough?” Yesung asked him feeling calmer now, the fogs in his brains dispersing.
“Not really, but that’s enough for now,” he replied quietly. Yesung’s heart skipped a beat, stirring something in him. He drew back his head looking at him feeling puzzled and amazed at the same time, the corner of Kibum’s lips quirked slightly into a smile.
“I’m leaving now,” he said as he brushed his lower lips with his thumb. “I’ll see you in school.”
Yesung climbed off his laps sinking into the cushioned seat watching Kibum collect his bag and shirt, starting towards the door.
“Kibum,” he called out and he looked back, his hand stilling on the doorknob.
“You’re not such a bad kid after all,” he told him truthfully. Kibum looked away a tint of pink dusting his cheeks and opened the door slipping out of the apartment.
Yesung smiled at the empty spot as the door clicked shut. Cute, he didn’t think that the kid was capable of blushing. Not after all that and he buried his face into the pillows.
“What have I gotten myself into?”
Part 4
TBC…..
Hope you guys like it and leave a comment. ^__^
Author: waruiyume80
Summary: Kibum is a playboy who changes his girlfriend every month who then met a senior on the very first day of the month.
Pairing: Kisung, Kibum / Yesung
Chapters: 1, 2
Length: 3 / 6
Yesung didn’t know what prompted him to take the shortcuts of the winding back alleys to the train station. He just acted on it and stumbled upon a group of boys trashing the hell out of someone.
He stopped short, wondering if he should just turn back and leave them to their business when he heard a rather familiar voice shouting angrily.
He sighed tiredly. That kid was always causing trouble as he grabbed an unused chair and charged forward slamming hard as he was about to swing down a bat onto the battered lump. His friends stopped their abuse, stunned for a moment at the sudden intrusion.
“First you caused trouble in my club and now you’re beating up my fellow schoolmate?” Yesung said glancing around coldly.
“You again!” the one he had hit with the chair growled wiping the trickling blood from his face.
“Yes me again. You’ve got a problem with that dongsaeng? I can always tell my boys to hunt you down you know,” he drawled lazily staring down to him.
“Why the hell would you even do that? This has got nothing to do with you!” he yelled scrambling from the floor drawing to his full height.
“Just because I simply do not like your face,” Yesung answered glancing briefly at the curled up body, his white uniform seeping blood from some wound. “Ganging up on someone who doesn’t even fight back is unfair don’t you think?”
“And too think that all this violence was due to a girl. I can see why she left you though. You’re pathetic,” Yesung insulted him, smirking while shaking his head.
The boy’s eyes bulged with anger, his thick lips pursing into a thin line. A vein was popping out on the side of his head and he screamed lunging at him with that fat fist of his.
Yesung quickly blocked the blow. His other hand grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around. His friends shouted their rage and surged forward swinging their weapons wildly. Yesung smirked grabbing a fist of coarse hair with his free hand and backed away to the far wall, the grip on the boy’s wrist tightening in his hold.
“Come closer and I’ll break his arm,” he warned loudly but failed as they kept moving menacingly forward. Yesung shook his head twisting the pudgy arm with his might until there was a sickening ‘pop’ of shoulder disconnected from its socket. He almost went deaf with the painful scream stopping the boys from advancing looking almost bewildered by what happened.
“I don’t make empty threats. Leave now or I’ll do even worse,” he threatened them who were looking unsure as they waited for their whimpering friend to give his orders. The alley echoed with his screams again.
“Back off you stupid bastards! Do you want him to kill me!” his screams laced with pain and anger prompting them to mindlessly drop their weapons, eyeing him warily. Yesung gripped his hair tighter jerking back his head as he hooked his chin onto his shoulder, turning his mouth to his ear.
“Don’t you ever let me see you around him again you understand?” he could feel the boy stiffening in protest. He knew that he wasn’t going to heed his warning and tugged hard at the fistful of hair earning another howl.
“Do you understand?” he asked again.
“Yes! Yes! I get it! Now get the fuck off me!” he yelled angrily. Yesung pushed him away satisfied, his friends catching him as he stumbled over clinging onto his limp arm and they turned heel out of there.
“Did you really break his arm?” Kibum asked weakly, dragging his body to lean on a wall.
“It takes a lot of strength to break a bone. I only dislocated it. He’ll be fine when he sees a doctor,” he answered walking over to him crouching as he surveyed the damage that was done.
“Aishh… you’re such a mess. Why didn’t you fight back?” Yesung asked wiping the blood from his broken lips with the pad of his thumb. Kibum took hold of his hand drawing it away, intertwining his fingers with his.
“I just thought I’d be responsible,” he answered, a maddening grin hitched up his face and winced when it hurt. Yesung stared at him, astounded at his response before laughing his guts out annoying the younger boy.
“Why are you laughing? I’m hurting here,” Kibum asked squeezing his hand catching his attention again. The laughter tapered off to a stop as he studied him. Why was he laughing anyway? It wasn’t even remotely funny.
“Can you walk? Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said to him tugging at his hand lightly.
“No hospital. I don’t want to worry my mom,” he protested and winced when he tried to get up. Yesung sighed stooping down again, wrapping an arm on his waist and heaved back up.
“You should have thought of that before getting yourself into this.”
Yesung struggled and nearly slipped off the curb as he hauled Kibum to lean against him. He had drifted off somewhere along the ride in the cab and couldn’t get him to wake up as he just snuggled closer when they reached his place.
“Yesung? Is that you?” An auntie called out from the entrance of the flat.
“Ommanim! Could you help me?” he called out to her finding himself losing his grip on the boy. The auntie hurried over with a worried expression as he took in Kibum’s condition.
“What happened? Is he your friend Yesung?” she asked him.
“Yes. Ommanim please hurry, I can’t hold on much longer,” he begged as his knees nearly gave out under his weight. The plump motherly woman grabbed a hold of Kibum’s arm relieving some of his burden and they dragged him into the building.
“Thanks ommanim,” Yesung said wiping the sweat from his eyes after they dumped him on the living room couch. “I would offer you some tea if I didn’t have to attend to my friend.”
The woman waved a hand offhandedly, “You don’t have to. I have an appointment to keep,” she said and eyed the unconscious Kibum. “Do you think you can handle him alone?”
“I think I’ll manage,” he answered her. The matronly woman nodded getting up from the armchair and they headed to the door.
“Thanks again for helping me ommanim,” Yesung said again watching the woman leave and closed the door. Yesung returned to the living room to find Kibum trying to sit on the couch.
“Aishh, what are you doing?” Yesung said rushing over to help him.
“So I can call you Yesung now,” he said still sounding weak but with a satisfied smile gracing his still bloodied lips. Yesung arched an eyebrow depositing himself onto the low coffee table.
“I was trying to get the lady to hurry up so that you wouldn’t fall on me,” he answered crossing his arms loosely over his chest.
“But you said that I’m your friend twice,” he pointed out the smile turning into a smirk.
“That was because I had already told her that you’re my friend,” Yesung retorted. “Were you listening the whole time?”
“Yep,” he answered that smile back on his lips.
“You little brat and there I was struggling to get you out of that cab when you were actually awake,” he said disgruntled narrowing his eyes at him and left for the kitchen while the younger boy chuckled to himself.
Yesung came back out again with a bowl of warm water and a first aid box. He placed the items on the table and once again perched onto the table, inching closer with the wet towel that he had wrung.
Carefully he cleaned his face of the blood that was now dried, taking extra caution in places that were wounded.
“Take off your shirt,” Yesung ordered while he plastered a small gash on his cheek not noticing the way Kibum was watching him.
“My arms are numb right now,” he answered, his voice low. “Take it off for me.”
Yesung drew away and regarded him coolly. He knew that he wasn’t really hurting but he reached forward, his hands unbuttoning his dirtied shirt one by one revealing expanses of skin, showing the well toned body as he peeled off the shirt. It wasn’t all that bad really he thought as he rubbed in some medicated oil onto countless forming bruises, his fingers trailing the contour of his abs lightly.
He heard Kibum drew a breath and Yesung climbed onto the couch beside him pushing him forward gently, inspecting his back for any open wound. Yesung watched how he affected him as he traced the angry red welt across his back. A dab of blood welled from a small puncture where he had applied pressure, trickling down the back of his shoulder.
He didn’t know what came over him. He licked it clean tasting the coppery taste on his tongue.
Kibum stiffened with a hitched breath and suddenly Yesung found himself on his back, the younger boy atop him, his breathing unsteady watching him with a smoldering gaze. He bent down, his lips quickly inching closer and Yesung turned away that pair of lips finding his ear.
“What is it Kibum?” he was on dangerous ground here. He knew that he shouldn’t ask but apologize and plead temporary insanity. To push him away so that he won’t go over board with this foolishness.
“Just let me feel you,” he whispered and his hand tugged free his shirt slipping underneath it, caressing his flesh and Yesung closed his eyes tilting his head back. His body unwittingly arched towards his touch as it ascended towards his chest, fingers brushing lightly on the tip of his nipple making him moan. His other hand released the buckle from his belt and drew across his abdomen to his waist, dipping into the fabric, his fingers massaging the flesh of his bum eliciting another purr from the back of his throat.
Yesung’s mind was growing foggy as Kibum nipped his earlobe, the stinging pain a pleasure to him. He felt himself letting go. To just let Kibum do whatever he wanted to him. Be damned about not going overboard.
He felt himself being pulled up, straddling on Kibum’s laps, his arms wrapping around him holding him tight. His breathing starting to regulate as he stroked his back
“Had enough?” Yesung asked him feeling calmer now, the fogs in his brains dispersing.
“Not really, but that’s enough for now,” he replied quietly. Yesung’s heart skipped a beat, stirring something in him. He drew back his head looking at him feeling puzzled and amazed at the same time, the corner of Kibum’s lips quirked slightly into a smile.
“I’m leaving now,” he said as he brushed his lower lips with his thumb. “I’ll see you in school.”
Yesung climbed off his laps sinking into the cushioned seat watching Kibum collect his bag and shirt, starting towards the door.
“Kibum,” he called out and he looked back, his hand stilling on the doorknob.
“You’re not such a bad kid after all,” he told him truthfully. Kibum looked away a tint of pink dusting his cheeks and opened the door slipping out of the apartment.
Yesung smiled at the empty spot as the door clicked shut. Cute, he didn’t think that the kid was capable of blushing. Not after all that and he buried his face into the pillows.
“What have I gotten myself into?”
Part 4
TBC…..
Hope you guys like it and leave a comment. ^__^