Yoochun drabbles for in_vazn: # 18, 28
#18:SECRETS; 172 words; jaechun; G
You know you would never let Junsu keep all your secrets. Because he would pretend to keep them but break them when the lights hit and he leaves himself backstage. Yunho could probably handle their massive weight, his shoulders staying strong with the world on them. But you don't want be another feather of responsibility; you don't want to admit that you're sensitive about those kinds of things. Changmin is the logical reasoning that you fear. He rationalizes and you find yourself feeling foolish despite his apologies.
And so there's Jaejoong, who never offered to keep your secrets. He's the free spirit that is trapped inside an artist, inside a recording label, and in the public eye. He's himself on stage, has small shoulders and strays from logical reasoning with the best of his ability. He makes no promises, doesn't want to; he says they aren't worth it.
When he calls you stupid, wiping your tears with his thumbs, you think: He can keep your secrets and you can keep his promises.
#28:HEART; 245 words, yunchun, R
"And when he grips your arms like that, he actually wants to hold you closer."
He grips your arms, pushing - pulling you against him. His thighs are smooth sitting on yours, and he grinds, trying to take more of you in. You can still smell the cigarettes when he gasps for breath, burying his face into your neck. "Take me."
And he welcomes you to.
Yoochun is sharp hipbones pressing on your thumbs and smooth collar bones bumping your lips. And you take his elbows, push them up, so his hands are behind your neck, and make him hold onto you. You make him hold you so close that he has no choice but to kiss you.
And you take him.
Yoochun doesn't hold his gasps, moans or grunts in. They are released with whimpers and short breaths that flirt with your skin. He lets you know that he's vulnerable. He lets you know that he's hurting. But he also lets you know that he wants more. "Fuck me."
And you wish you could. But you continue: slow, patient, powerful.
"After you're done, he pushes you away, because he gets scared."
"Yunho, make me." He's close and he's pushing you away, pulling you in. He wants more - why don't you take more. Take more.
You take his lower lip, almost biting. But you think: How about - "Love you."
His head tilts back.
And you hold him, him and his heart. Close. Tight.
You know you would never let Junsu keep all your secrets. Because he would pretend to keep them but break them when the lights hit and he leaves himself backstage. Yunho could probably handle their massive weight, his shoulders staying strong with the world on them. But you don't want be another feather of responsibility; you don't want to admit that you're sensitive about those kinds of things. Changmin is the logical reasoning that you fear. He rationalizes and you find yourself feeling foolish despite his apologies.
And so there's Jaejoong, who never offered to keep your secrets. He's the free spirit that is trapped inside an artist, inside a recording label, and in the public eye. He's himself on stage, has small shoulders and strays from logical reasoning with the best of his ability. He makes no promises, doesn't want to; he says they aren't worth it.
When he calls you stupid, wiping your tears with his thumbs, you think: He can keep your secrets and you can keep his promises.
#28:HEART; 245 words, yunchun, R
"And when he grips your arms like that, he actually wants to hold you closer."
He grips your arms, pushing - pulling you against him. His thighs are smooth sitting on yours, and he grinds, trying to take more of you in. You can still smell the cigarettes when he gasps for breath, burying his face into your neck. "Take me."
And he welcomes you to.
Yoochun is sharp hipbones pressing on your thumbs and smooth collar bones bumping your lips. And you take his elbows, push them up, so his hands are behind your neck, and make him hold onto you. You make him hold you so close that he has no choice but to kiss you.
And you take him.
Yoochun doesn't hold his gasps, moans or grunts in. They are released with whimpers and short breaths that flirt with your skin. He lets you know that he's vulnerable. He lets you know that he's hurting. But he also lets you know that he wants more. "Fuck me."
And you wish you could. But you continue: slow, patient, powerful.
"After you're done, he pushes you away, because he gets scared."
"Yunho, make me." He's close and he's pushing you away, pulling you in. He wants more - why don't you take more. Take more.
You take his lower lip, almost biting. But you think: How about - "Love you."
His head tilts back.
And you hold him, him and his heart. Close. Tight.