[2PM; junsu/taecyeon]
title: the 15th of January
pairing: junsu/taecyeon
rating: mildly nc-17
a/n: panda-oppa's birthday present.
Junsu doesn’t like sweet things. He doesn’t care about cakes and candies, cream frostings and chocolate; they’re simply too sweet and sugary, sticking to his teeth nastily. Junsu likes all things sour; he loves how the taste shoots up from his tongue and mouth all the way to his head, brain, and mind.
-
It gets a little bitterer with every word the other spits out in between groans of annoyance and vexation. He’s yelling at Junsu for being ignorant, for not being careful enough, for being accident-prone, for being everything that annoys the hell out of him. Now Junsu’s not one to take all this -shit- thrown at his face, so he raises his voice and snaps at the male for being the biggest moron he’s ever known. The words taste like plain black coffee, bitter and harsh on his tongue; Junsu can’t help a frown on his face-no one wins in this fight, he realizes.
-
Taecyeon’s skin taste salty as Junsu runs his tongue along the trail of sweat that starts from the other’s left nipple, and ends at the waistband of his boxers. Taecyeon squirms, his hands gripping the bed sheets, as he tries to grind his hips to create more friction. Junsu thinks it’s fun when Taecyeon begs: desperate, and moaning, sweating and panting, just like how Junsu likes him.
And when Taecyeon’s finally on his fours, hands shaking in anticipation, Junsu grips his hips, and pushes in until Taecyeon sees white. It’s uncomfortable at first, the heat around his cock too tight as Junsu finds it hard to control himself from pounding into the other. But then he rolls his hips, first slowly, and then adding more speed, earning moans that make their heads spin faster and minds hazier. The savory taste explodes in his mouth, when Taecyeon screams his name as it echoes from the walls into his rapidly beating, lousy excuse of a heart.
-
The birthday cake with 25 candles balanced in his hands, Taecyeon sings Happy Birthday. Maybe it’s stupid, but all Junsu can see is Taecyeon’s eyes glistening like how stars up in the north tend to, where there are no skyscrapers and neon lights but just the black sky. The light from the burning candles enhancing those handsome features; Junsu doesn’t even notice how the other’s voice cracks at the end of the song.
-
Junsu doesn’t like sweet things, but they balance the bitter taste in his mouth.So it’s Taecyeon and his hands that make the throbbing pain in Junsu’s knee go away; it’s Taecyeon’s lips, Taecyeon’s mouth, tracing the skin there all the way to Junsu’s inner thigh, that makes him see stars (that don’t stand a chance, when there’s Taecyeon and Taecyeon’s eyes staring at him).
“Happy birthday, Junsu-ah” Taecyeon whispers against his skin, and the sweet taste travels from his mouth all the way to his heart, into his lungs, before it spreads through his blood, and heats up his whole body. Junsu thinks it’s okay to get older; he thinks it’s actually quite nice to age when there’s someone lying next to you in bed, and you fight for the blanket every single night, but neither bothers to get another one because it’s warmer that way with your legs intertwined-and heartbeats mimicking each other.
pairing: junsu/taecyeon
rating: mildly nc-17
a/n: panda-oppa's birthday present.
Junsu doesn’t like sweet things. He doesn’t care about cakes and candies, cream frostings and chocolate; they’re simply too sweet and sugary, sticking to his teeth nastily. Junsu likes all things sour; he loves how the taste shoots up from his tongue and mouth all the way to his head, brain, and mind.
-
It gets a little bitterer with every word the other spits out in between groans of annoyance and vexation. He’s yelling at Junsu for being ignorant, for not being careful enough, for being accident-prone, for being everything that annoys the hell out of him. Now Junsu’s not one to take all this -shit- thrown at his face, so he raises his voice and snaps at the male for being the biggest moron he’s ever known. The words taste like plain black coffee, bitter and harsh on his tongue; Junsu can’t help a frown on his face-no one wins in this fight, he realizes.
-
Taecyeon’s skin taste salty as Junsu runs his tongue along the trail of sweat that starts from the other’s left nipple, and ends at the waistband of his boxers. Taecyeon squirms, his hands gripping the bed sheets, as he tries to grind his hips to create more friction. Junsu thinks it’s fun when Taecyeon begs: desperate, and moaning, sweating and panting, just like how Junsu likes him.
And when Taecyeon’s finally on his fours, hands shaking in anticipation, Junsu grips his hips, and pushes in until Taecyeon sees white. It’s uncomfortable at first, the heat around his cock too tight as Junsu finds it hard to control himself from pounding into the other. But then he rolls his hips, first slowly, and then adding more speed, earning moans that make their heads spin faster and minds hazier. The savory taste explodes in his mouth, when Taecyeon screams his name as it echoes from the walls into his rapidly beating, lousy excuse of a heart.
-
The birthday cake with 25 candles balanced in his hands, Taecyeon sings Happy Birthday. Maybe it’s stupid, but all Junsu can see is Taecyeon’s eyes glistening like how stars up in the north tend to, where there are no skyscrapers and neon lights but just the black sky. The light from the burning candles enhancing those handsome features; Junsu doesn’t even notice how the other’s voice cracks at the end of the song.
-
Junsu doesn’t like sweet things, but they balance the bitter taste in his mouth.So it’s Taecyeon and his hands that make the throbbing pain in Junsu’s knee go away; it’s Taecyeon’s lips, Taecyeon’s mouth, tracing the skin there all the way to Junsu’s inner thigh, that makes him see stars (that don’t stand a chance, when there’s Taecyeon and Taecyeon’s eyes staring at him).
“Happy birthday, Junsu-ah” Taecyeon whispers against his skin, and the sweet taste travels from his mouth all the way to his heart, into his lungs, before it spreads through his blood, and heats up his whole body. Junsu thinks it’s okay to get older; he thinks it’s actually quite nice to age when there’s someone lying next to you in bed, and you fight for the blanket every single night, but neither bothers to get another one because it’s warmer that way with your legs intertwined-and heartbeats mimicking each other.