[oneshot] there's just this thing about you
Title: there's just this thing about you
Pairing: go namsoon/park heungsoo
Rating: nc17
Genre: pwp
Warnings: swearing, sex
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: ~extended scene~ set right after the pillow fight in the finale. spoilers for the entire series. sequel to this and this. 1,159 words.
"Stop it-seriously, stop it," Heungsoo says, but laughter's bubbling up in his voice like he might choke on it if he isn't careful, so Namsoon's pretty sure he doesn't mean it anyway.
It's just as well, because Namsoon's got too much leftover momentum to stop himself. He surges forward, stupid grin stretched across his face. The crown of his head smacks against Heungsoo's stomach and they stagger off-balance.
"You ass," Heungsoo groans, breath wheezing out in a rush. His back hits the wall with a loud thump. He hooks an arm around Namsoon's chest and tries to wrench him off that way, but only succeeds in throwing both of them into the low cabinet on which the mug of water's precariously balanced.
Namsoon jerks his head around as his leg slides under the wooden veneer and flips it up. The mug, of course, goes sailing. Heungsoo catches it reflexively before it can smash against the wall, but water splashes everywhere: mostly on him. He looks up with such a wounded expression that Namsoon can't help but cackle.
"Don't laugh," he grumbles, shaking water out of his eyes. "This is your fault."
"If you'd just been an obedient servant," Namsoon points out blithely, "none of this would've happened." He picks his way through the damp patches of floor to get to the door. "I'll get you a change of clothes."
"None of yours are going to fit me, idiot," Heungsoo yells after him. Namsoon swallows his laugh. Ungrateful bastard.
He nearly swallows his own tongue when he comes back with the loosest shirt and longest pair of pants he could find. Heungsoo's sitting cross-legged on a dry blanket, peeling off his last layer of damp shirt. His back reveals itself as if in slow motion, spine bending delicately as he lifts the cotton over his head, shoulders broader than the last time Namsoon had seen them unclothed. He piles his shirt on the ground with the rest of his crumpled uniform, the subtle outline of muscle shifting beneath his skin as he moves.
Namsoon steps forward without thinking, hand half-raised. A floorboard creaks and Heungsoo turns his head, stares up at him for a minute before his gaze flicks down to the clothing tucked underneath Namsoon's arm. "Well?"
Yeah, not happening, he thinks. He deposits the shirt and pants on the cabinet next to the empty mug and closes the door behind him.
Heungsoo raises his eyebrows. He picks himself up and folds his arms. "Aren't you going to let me get dressed?"
"No," Namsoon says simply, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Heungsoo doesn't look surprised at all; he just grins a bit, like he'd been waiting for this. Of course he had, the asshole. And he had the gall to think Namsoon was the manipulative one.
For a moment, Namsoon's tempted to be a contrary little shit and walk away just to spite him-but then his eyes wander down to study the hollow of Heungsoo's collarbone, the line of his torso all the way down to his hipbone, the smooth planes and dips of his abdomen. Namsoon's throat clenches so hard around the wave of burgeoning arousal that he has to shut his eyes to get a handle on it.
When he opens them again, Heungsoo is hovering close enough that their noses almost brush when Namsoon faces him. "So?" Heungsoo prompts, that tiny grin playing at his lips again. "I'm the servant, remember? What do you want me to say? Your wish is my command-?"
"Shut the hell up," Namsoon says fervently, and leans forward to kiss him.
The way Heungsoo crowds up into his space to return it forces Namsoon to backpedal into the wall. He nearly trips over the ironing board and the back of his head collides painfully with the decorative picture frame-but it doesn't matter because Heungsoo's got his hands up Namsoon's shirt and his tongue in Namsoon's mouth, a knee coming up to press hard in between Namsoon's legs.
An embarrassing sound erupts from the back of Namsoon's throat. Heungsoo laughs into the kiss and pulls back a little, traces a finger along the edge of Namsoon's khakis.
"That's not fair," he remarks, tilting his head. "I'm in my boxers and you're still all clothed."
Heungsoo slides down onto his knees before Namsoon can respond. He unzips Namsoon's pants and pulls his erection out of his underwear, gives it a long, hard stroke that has Namsoon's head hitting the picture frame again, his hands clenching into fists.
Heungsoo's lips are very, very red. This is the first thing that comes to mind when they wrap around the tip of his cock, and it flies right out the window along with every other rational thought when he starts sucking. Namsoon thrusts forward despite himself and Heungsoo flattens his palms against Namsoon's hipbones, holds him down as a tongue flattens against the underside of his erection.
"Jesus," Namsoon pants, voice breaking on the last syllable. His body's doubled so far over that the top of Heungsoo's head grazes the buttons of his dress shirt. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of Heungsoo's neck and Heungsoo inches forward obligingly, head bobbing further down.
It sneaks up too fast for him to say or do anything. One minute he can feel Heungsoo smiling around his cock, the low thrum of laughter starting from Heungsoo's chest and reverberating up through his mouth onto Namsoon's dick-and the next, Namsoon's coming with a stifled groan, his arm braced heavily against Heungsoo's shoulder, fingers threaded through Heungsoo's hair.
By the end of it, Heungsoo's basically propping him up. He lowers Namsoon down onto the floor and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Warn a guy, next time," Heungsoo says drily. He licks his lips and sits back on his haunches.
Namsoon reaches out and reels Heungsoo in when he's finally caught his breath again, climbs into his lap and slips a hand into his boxers. When they kiss, Namsoon can still taste the semen on his tongue, salty and bitter.
Just a couple of jerks and Heungsoo comes too, a long sigh dragged out of his mouth as it happens. Namsoon wipes his hand on the wet blanket and tugs Heungsoo back onto the dry one, knocks two bags of chips and Volume 11 of Naruto out of the way so they can sprawl across the floor, legs tangled together and arms spread-eagle. "I should put something on," Heungsoo says, elbowing Namsoon in the side. "Your heat is gonna go out soon."
"You look better like this," Namsoon returns idly, and the noise that comes out of Heungsoo's mouth is like a cross between a cough and a choked laugh. At any rate, Heungsoo doesn't protest when Namsoon tosses a careless arm over his waist and shoves his forehead against Heungsoo's shoulder, so he counts it as a win.
fin
A/N: I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS SHOW IS OVER, crying about it forever. what a perfect finale tho (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) I'M SO PLEASED
Pairing: go namsoon/park heungsoo
Rating: nc17
Genre: pwp
Warnings: swearing, sex
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: ~extended scene~ set right after the pillow fight in the finale. spoilers for the entire series. sequel to this and this. 1,159 words.
"Stop it-seriously, stop it," Heungsoo says, but laughter's bubbling up in his voice like he might choke on it if he isn't careful, so Namsoon's pretty sure he doesn't mean it anyway.
It's just as well, because Namsoon's got too much leftover momentum to stop himself. He surges forward, stupid grin stretched across his face. The crown of his head smacks against Heungsoo's stomach and they stagger off-balance.
"You ass," Heungsoo groans, breath wheezing out in a rush. His back hits the wall with a loud thump. He hooks an arm around Namsoon's chest and tries to wrench him off that way, but only succeeds in throwing both of them into the low cabinet on which the mug of water's precariously balanced.
Namsoon jerks his head around as his leg slides under the wooden veneer and flips it up. The mug, of course, goes sailing. Heungsoo catches it reflexively before it can smash against the wall, but water splashes everywhere: mostly on him. He looks up with such a wounded expression that Namsoon can't help but cackle.
"Don't laugh," he grumbles, shaking water out of his eyes. "This is your fault."
"If you'd just been an obedient servant," Namsoon points out blithely, "none of this would've happened." He picks his way through the damp patches of floor to get to the door. "I'll get you a change of clothes."
"None of yours are going to fit me, idiot," Heungsoo yells after him. Namsoon swallows his laugh. Ungrateful bastard.
He nearly swallows his own tongue when he comes back with the loosest shirt and longest pair of pants he could find. Heungsoo's sitting cross-legged on a dry blanket, peeling off his last layer of damp shirt. His back reveals itself as if in slow motion, spine bending delicately as he lifts the cotton over his head, shoulders broader than the last time Namsoon had seen them unclothed. He piles his shirt on the ground with the rest of his crumpled uniform, the subtle outline of muscle shifting beneath his skin as he moves.
Namsoon steps forward without thinking, hand half-raised. A floorboard creaks and Heungsoo turns his head, stares up at him for a minute before his gaze flicks down to the clothing tucked underneath Namsoon's arm. "Well?"
Yeah, not happening, he thinks. He deposits the shirt and pants on the cabinet next to the empty mug and closes the door behind him.
Heungsoo raises his eyebrows. He picks himself up and folds his arms. "Aren't you going to let me get dressed?"
"No," Namsoon says simply, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Heungsoo doesn't look surprised at all; he just grins a bit, like he'd been waiting for this. Of course he had, the asshole. And he had the gall to think Namsoon was the manipulative one.
For a moment, Namsoon's tempted to be a contrary little shit and walk away just to spite him-but then his eyes wander down to study the hollow of Heungsoo's collarbone, the line of his torso all the way down to his hipbone, the smooth planes and dips of his abdomen. Namsoon's throat clenches so hard around the wave of burgeoning arousal that he has to shut his eyes to get a handle on it.
When he opens them again, Heungsoo is hovering close enough that their noses almost brush when Namsoon faces him. "So?" Heungsoo prompts, that tiny grin playing at his lips again. "I'm the servant, remember? What do you want me to say? Your wish is my command-?"
"Shut the hell up," Namsoon says fervently, and leans forward to kiss him.
The way Heungsoo crowds up into his space to return it forces Namsoon to backpedal into the wall. He nearly trips over the ironing board and the back of his head collides painfully with the decorative picture frame-but it doesn't matter because Heungsoo's got his hands up Namsoon's shirt and his tongue in Namsoon's mouth, a knee coming up to press hard in between Namsoon's legs.
An embarrassing sound erupts from the back of Namsoon's throat. Heungsoo laughs into the kiss and pulls back a little, traces a finger along the edge of Namsoon's khakis.
"That's not fair," he remarks, tilting his head. "I'm in my boxers and you're still all clothed."
Heungsoo slides down onto his knees before Namsoon can respond. He unzips Namsoon's pants and pulls his erection out of his underwear, gives it a long, hard stroke that has Namsoon's head hitting the picture frame again, his hands clenching into fists.
Heungsoo's lips are very, very red. This is the first thing that comes to mind when they wrap around the tip of his cock, and it flies right out the window along with every other rational thought when he starts sucking. Namsoon thrusts forward despite himself and Heungsoo flattens his palms against Namsoon's hipbones, holds him down as a tongue flattens against the underside of his erection.
"Jesus," Namsoon pants, voice breaking on the last syllable. His body's doubled so far over that the top of Heungsoo's head grazes the buttons of his dress shirt. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of Heungsoo's neck and Heungsoo inches forward obligingly, head bobbing further down.
It sneaks up too fast for him to say or do anything. One minute he can feel Heungsoo smiling around his cock, the low thrum of laughter starting from Heungsoo's chest and reverberating up through his mouth onto Namsoon's dick-and the next, Namsoon's coming with a stifled groan, his arm braced heavily against Heungsoo's shoulder, fingers threaded through Heungsoo's hair.
By the end of it, Heungsoo's basically propping him up. He lowers Namsoon down onto the floor and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Warn a guy, next time," Heungsoo says drily. He licks his lips and sits back on his haunches.
Namsoon reaches out and reels Heungsoo in when he's finally caught his breath again, climbs into his lap and slips a hand into his boxers. When they kiss, Namsoon can still taste the semen on his tongue, salty and bitter.
Just a couple of jerks and Heungsoo comes too, a long sigh dragged out of his mouth as it happens. Namsoon wipes his hand on the wet blanket and tugs Heungsoo back onto the dry one, knocks two bags of chips and Volume 11 of Naruto out of the way so they can sprawl across the floor, legs tangled together and arms spread-eagle. "I should put something on," Heungsoo says, elbowing Namsoon in the side. "Your heat is gonna go out soon."
"You look better like this," Namsoon returns idly, and the noise that comes out of Heungsoo's mouth is like a cross between a cough and a choked laugh. At any rate, Heungsoo doesn't protest when Namsoon tosses a careless arm over his waist and shoves his forehead against Heungsoo's shoulder, so he counts it as a win.
fin
A/N: I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS SHOW IS OVER, crying about it forever. what a perfect finale tho (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) I'M SO PLEASED