[oneshot] another long quiet night
Title: another long quiet night
Pairing: GTOP
Rating: nc17
Genre: romance, au, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: jiyong and seunghyun go on a roadtrip in late march. college au. companion fic to and the worst of it now (i can’t remember your face) and the morning after. for jandi & lovelyable :')
we’ll drive one thousand miles an hour
we’ll fly by the wheat fields and water towers
we’ll go (we’ll go and we’ll go and we’ll go)
let’s go, let’s go, let’s go-
let’s go.
- - one thousand miles an hour, ok go
“Got any plans for spring break?”
Seunghyun looks up from the travel brochures scattered haphazardly across his desk, expression blank. Jiyong’s standing in the doorway of their dorm, a hand resting on his cocked hip. “Well, my sister wants me back in New York for the week, but the parents are angry at me about something. Yesterday, Daesung asked if I wanted to go with him and Hyori to Cancun, so I said I could make it-”
“Cancel on them.” Jiyong chucks a tattered flyer at his head and falls into the unmade covers of his bed, tucking his chin over a soft pillow. “Let’s go on a roadtrip.”
He reads the paper with suspicion. “To Montana? There’s nothing there, it’s fucking empty.”
“Yes,” Jiyong agrees easily. “We can pack all our shit into your beat-up car and camp out in miles of countryside before angry farmers come chase us down. And it’ll just be the two of us.” He sighs. “Sounds great, doesn’t it?”
Seunghyun gets up from the desk chair and presses a palm against Jiyong’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Jiyong jerks away and glares up at him, and Seunghyun laughs, putting his hands up and retreating back to his swivel. “I’d rather just stay in Chicago and not drive all the way out to see cows and, and corn or something.”
Jiyong sits up between the tangled sheets and crosses his arms, a deep frown marring his features. “What if I said we could have sex on warm nights?”
“Tempting,” Seunghyun says wryly, “but no.” He ignores the incredulous look on Jiyong’s face, picks a Caribbean cruise catalog off the desk and waves it back and forth. “Wouldn’t it be nicer to fuck somewhere with consistent lighting and a nice Jacuzzi and bubble bath? Think about the bubble bath, Jiyong.”
“You think you can afford a five-star cruise?” Jiyong raises his eyebrows.
Seunghyun scowls, waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t you want to-?”
“No,” Jiyong cuts him off, holding the long vowel sound out with an obnoxious, petulant whine. “And I have a proposition that you can’t refuse.”
In the end, it turns out that Jiyong’s trump cards are Seunghyun’s passport, which he holds threateningly over the toilet bowl until Seunghyun agrees to go on his little escapade, and the enticing offer that he’ll pay for Seunghyun’s gas fees. (I mean, he thinks, it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m lazy as hell and sex in the middle of a cornfield is still sex, and not getting cozy with my hand alone in Central America.) He manages to negotiate Jiyong’s insane plans down to remaining in Illinois, but that’s about how much his stubborn idiot of a roommate will budge.
“Wow,” Seunghyun remarks whilst packing, “you are such a tightwad. The cruise didn’t even cost that-” The rest of his sentence is drowned out through a mouthful of downy pillow stuffing.
“Shut up and put this in the trunk,” Jiyong says breezily. Seunghyun lumbers out the dorm and to the back of the car, shoves everything inside with admittedly reckless disregard-just like Jiyong shoves him into the driver’s seat a couple of minutes later.
The sun blinds him for a moment as he pulls out of campus, rays glancing off the windshield and straight into his eyes, but he turns as the afterimages spiral out of existence and watches Jiyong slide the mellow mix he’d shuffled together on the computer the night before into the CD slot. “Where do I go?” Seunghyun asks, reaching for the map in the open glove compartment.
Jiyong snatches it out of his hand and tosses it out the open window, watching the cool breeze lift the flimsy paper up and away. “Dunno,” he says, voice smooth and soft. He closes his eyes and shifts the passenger seat into the recline position, sunlight casting half-circle shadows against his cheeks. The first strums of wispy guitar fill their ears. “Just drive.”
Seunghyun does.
- - - - -
Jiyong wakes up only to fiddle with the stereo and whisper raspy requests of three more Slim Jims at the next stop or get me a coke at the nearest gas station. Seunghyun doesn’t really mind; he’s always let Jiyong push him around, and it’s not like any of this really matters, in the grand scheme of things. They are, after all, on vacation.
At noon, Jiyong insists on stopping for lunch and yanks a hideous-looking patterned tablecloth from the chaos of the backseat area, spreading it out on the side of the road in spite of the chilly March weather. He tells an annoyed Seunghyun to suck it up (“You’ve lived on the east coast for how many years now?” “Don’t remind me.”), and he has to admit that it’s rather nice, looking up at clear, clear blue instead of a typical, smog-filled skyline.
He shakes residual crumbs out of the blanket in the afternoon, after another one of Jiyong’s mandatory siestas. Then they’re on the road again, Seunghyun lowering the hood so that Jiyong can stand on the cushion of his seat and let the wind blow at his hair, music from the radio blasting full volume. Seunghyun doesn’t have the heart to complain about the cold anymore, just shrugs on another layer of woolly jumper and grins into the light of the setting sun.
They make a meal of s’mores for dinner, and when Seunghyun opens the mini cooler to pull out a bottle of vermouth, something that flashes red and purple and acid green catches Jiyong’s attention. “Jello!” he says excitedly, and downs a cup (or four) before Seunghyun can do anything about it. By the time the campfire’s almost burned out, Jiyong’s too intoxicated for his own good, and of course he would be, Seunghyun thinks, since he’s just eaten all of the jello shots he’d brought. And perhaps Seunghyun’s a bit drunk as well, because he doesn’t really remember when it started raining-just that something cold and wet is suddenly seeping through his shirt and he’s squelching towards Jiyong, lifting an arm over his shoulder and helping him into the back of the car.
He moves to get up, to go to the front of the car and try to get some sleep, but Jiyong isn’t as passed out as he’d thought. He pulls Seunghyun into his collarbone, damp with drops of rain and warm from his flushed skin. Seunghyun sighs into the firm curve of his neck. “What,” he mouths against Jiyong’s pulse, a hand coming up to let fingers curl in thin strands of hair; but it’s easy to understand-he already knows.
“Fuck me,” Jiyong whispers, as if it’s as normal and commonplace a request as asking for loose change or another fucking beer. The smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth betrays any type of innocent façade that might’ve rested previously on his face, and Seunghyun grins, kisses Jiyong until he’s squirming to get out of his waterlogged clothes.
The routine is deliberate and familiar, all light, glancing touches and muscle memory, but it doesn’t stop the breath from being knocked out of his chest just a little bit when Jiyong bends down to suck on the tip of his cock. Everything goes slow, unhurried white for a while, like the clouds he’d counted earlier in the day, and the delicate sensation of floating carries him all the way until he’s pressing inside, erection slick with sticky lube and Jiyong’s warm saliva. Jiyong’s so wasted off shots and the vermouth that he just hums in satisfaction at the feeling of Seunghyun’s dick even though the backseat is impossibly cramped and there are boxes digging into his side.
A faint smile flits over Jiyong’s lips and then Seunghyun’s are slanting over them again, hands brushing at Jiyong’s arms and his face and the slope of his arched back, scrabbling awkwardly for a grip as Seunghyun slides out, and then in again. Jiyong makes an indecipherably quiet noise with each thrust, some sort of cross between a sigh and a deep groan. The choked rasp of his name is enough to get Seunghyun to come, panting wetly into Jiyong’s mouth as his muscles shiver up and tense, each receding crest of pleasure ripping through his abdomen.
He sweeps the mounds of luggage onto the car floor and Jiyong sags against his shoulder, completely spent. The comforting sound of rain drumming against the rooftop lulls him to sleep, an arm tossed over Jiyong’s hip and the other stretched out against the worn leather of the seatback.
“Next time,” Jiyong croaks fiercely when he wakes up in the morning, voice piercing through the painful haze of Seunghyun’s massive hangover, “I’m screening everything you bring on our Godforsaken trips.” He proceeds to promptly open the car door and throw up.
- - - - -
With the tremendous good luck they’ve been having, it’s really no wonder that everything goes downhill from there. The idea of cow-tipping comes in the middle of the third night, born from day old corn-nuts and perhaps one too many sips of leftover Absolut. Jiyong’s giggling way too much, weaving around bushes and patches of grass as Seunghyun approaches the cow from behind, narrowly avoiding a pile of manure.
Jiyong almost collapses as he watches Seunghyun struggle against the side of the confused animal. “This is so stupid,” he gasps, pushing against rough hide. “I’m not an athlete.”
“It was your idea,” Jiyong remarks, extremely amused. With a final, sullen shove, the cow tips over onto the grassy slope with a thud. It lets out an outraged squawk before falling terribly still, and before Seunghyun can say anything-
“Oh my God,” Jiyong breathes. “You killed it.”
Seunghyun pokes at the animal’s stomach and has to jump aside to dodge a strong kick from its back-left leg. “No,” he says, moving a safe distance away, “I think it’s very much alive.”
Jiyong moves closer to examine it, stepping over the manure with a disgusted look on his face. After a couple of moments-“Seunghyun.” His head swivels around and Jiyong’s expression is exasperated and incredulous. “This isn’t a cow, it’s a dog.” Seunghyun squints at him and then back at the figure on the ground. “A really fat, really big dog.”
“I,” Seunghyun says, a little defensive. “I’m drunk. Can’t see straight. I thought it was a-a baby cow.” Jiyong mutters no, you’re just a dumbass under his breath, but he’s laughing again, small hiccoughs of sound that seem to startle the animal into movement. There’s a sudden flash of lightning, signaling possible oncoming rain for the third night in a row, and then the cow-dog bolts up and knocks into Jiyong’s legs, topples him into a huge heap of shit.
Jiyong stops laughing. The dog streaks away into the night, barking madly.
- - - - -
At dawn the following day, Jiyong makes the executive decision to head home. Seunghyun raises an eyebrow. “Well,” he snaps, “we do have to make it back in time for Monday morning classes.”
“Okay,” Seunghyun says. “But I have no idea where we are, so I’m not too sure how to get back.”
“How is that possible?” Jiyong asks with mounting unease. “You’re the one who got us here!” He fiddles with the soggy sleeve of his shirt, still streaked with water from the whole night he stood outside in the rain trying to get manure out of his hair.
“Well, you’re the enormous idiot who decided to chuck our only map out the goddamn window,” Seunghyun growls, his grip on the steering wheel so tight he can hear his knuckles popping. Jiyong turns his back to him and faces the window, not speaking. “Fine! Fine. I’ll just go backwards and hope we somehow find ourselves in Chicago within the next two days.”
They stop at the next gas station and try to get directions from the old man behind the counter, but his accented drawl is so thick that they end up just buying a map and leaving. “We’re going to be lost here forever and doomed to wander over these plains for the rest of our days and I swear,” Jiyong says ominously after a couple of hours, “I’ve seen that tree before.”
“You said that ten minutes ago,” Seunghyun grumbles. “Look, I’m just as frustrated as you are, but that’s no reason to start fighting-”
“Wait,” Jiyong interrupts, fingers pressed to his temples. “We’re so stupid.” He sighs and sticks a hand into Seunghyun’s pocket and pulls his phone out. “Technology,” he announces, “is a wonderful thing.” He navigates to the GPS screen and thrusts it into Seunghyun’s face. “Use it.”
- - - - -
They pull into campus on Sunday night, Seunghyun panicking because if he didn’t want to fail intro to statistics then he had to do all his break homework before class the next day and Jiyong panicking because he hadn’t had a decent shower in nearly a week.
In the end, though, they both sink down into bed, gross hair and disgusting clothing and all, and manage to sleep straight through Monday’s classes before the residual stink of cow manure finally wakes them up that night.
“So, what did you think?” Jiyong asks, a little apprehensive, grabbing a change of clothes from his cabinet.
“Eh,” he says, smiling. “It was alright. The sex was pretty g-”
“Don’t even start,” Jiyong scowls, and he ducks into the steamy bathroom. Seunghyun grins even harder and slips in after him.
A/N: writing this was like having a baby, i don’t even. not that i know what having a baby is like...... and i’m still a little scared that both of them are incredibly out of character but... oh well, i guess :| i cut a bunch of scenes/ideas, though they’ll probably make it into something or other eventually :3 ♥
Pairing: GTOP
Rating: nc17
Genre: romance, au, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: jiyong and seunghyun go on a roadtrip in late march. college au. companion fic to and the worst of it now (i can’t remember your face) and the morning after. for jandi & lovelyable :')
we’ll drive one thousand miles an hour
we’ll fly by the wheat fields and water towers
we’ll go (we’ll go and we’ll go and we’ll go)
let’s go, let’s go, let’s go-
let’s go.
- - one thousand miles an hour, ok go
“Got any plans for spring break?”
Seunghyun looks up from the travel brochures scattered haphazardly across his desk, expression blank. Jiyong’s standing in the doorway of their dorm, a hand resting on his cocked hip. “Well, my sister wants me back in New York for the week, but the parents are angry at me about something. Yesterday, Daesung asked if I wanted to go with him and Hyori to Cancun, so I said I could make it-”
“Cancel on them.” Jiyong chucks a tattered flyer at his head and falls into the unmade covers of his bed, tucking his chin over a soft pillow. “Let’s go on a roadtrip.”
He reads the paper with suspicion. “To Montana? There’s nothing there, it’s fucking empty.”
“Yes,” Jiyong agrees easily. “We can pack all our shit into your beat-up car and camp out in miles of countryside before angry farmers come chase us down. And it’ll just be the two of us.” He sighs. “Sounds great, doesn’t it?”
Seunghyun gets up from the desk chair and presses a palm against Jiyong’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Jiyong jerks away and glares up at him, and Seunghyun laughs, putting his hands up and retreating back to his swivel. “I’d rather just stay in Chicago and not drive all the way out to see cows and, and corn or something.”
Jiyong sits up between the tangled sheets and crosses his arms, a deep frown marring his features. “What if I said we could have sex on warm nights?”
“Tempting,” Seunghyun says wryly, “but no.” He ignores the incredulous look on Jiyong’s face, picks a Caribbean cruise catalog off the desk and waves it back and forth. “Wouldn’t it be nicer to fuck somewhere with consistent lighting and a nice Jacuzzi and bubble bath? Think about the bubble bath, Jiyong.”
“You think you can afford a five-star cruise?” Jiyong raises his eyebrows.
Seunghyun scowls, waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t you want to-?”
“No,” Jiyong cuts him off, holding the long vowel sound out with an obnoxious, petulant whine. “And I have a proposition that you can’t refuse.”
In the end, it turns out that Jiyong’s trump cards are Seunghyun’s passport, which he holds threateningly over the toilet bowl until Seunghyun agrees to go on his little escapade, and the enticing offer that he’ll pay for Seunghyun’s gas fees. (I mean, he thinks, it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m lazy as hell and sex in the middle of a cornfield is still sex, and not getting cozy with my hand alone in Central America.) He manages to negotiate Jiyong’s insane plans down to remaining in Illinois, but that’s about how much his stubborn idiot of a roommate will budge.
“Wow,” Seunghyun remarks whilst packing, “you are such a tightwad. The cruise didn’t even cost that-” The rest of his sentence is drowned out through a mouthful of downy pillow stuffing.
“Shut up and put this in the trunk,” Jiyong says breezily. Seunghyun lumbers out the dorm and to the back of the car, shoves everything inside with admittedly reckless disregard-just like Jiyong shoves him into the driver’s seat a couple of minutes later.
The sun blinds him for a moment as he pulls out of campus, rays glancing off the windshield and straight into his eyes, but he turns as the afterimages spiral out of existence and watches Jiyong slide the mellow mix he’d shuffled together on the computer the night before into the CD slot. “Where do I go?” Seunghyun asks, reaching for the map in the open glove compartment.
Jiyong snatches it out of his hand and tosses it out the open window, watching the cool breeze lift the flimsy paper up and away. “Dunno,” he says, voice smooth and soft. He closes his eyes and shifts the passenger seat into the recline position, sunlight casting half-circle shadows against his cheeks. The first strums of wispy guitar fill their ears. “Just drive.”
Seunghyun does.
- - - - -
Jiyong wakes up only to fiddle with the stereo and whisper raspy requests of three more Slim Jims at the next stop or get me a coke at the nearest gas station. Seunghyun doesn’t really mind; he’s always let Jiyong push him around, and it’s not like any of this really matters, in the grand scheme of things. They are, after all, on vacation.
At noon, Jiyong insists on stopping for lunch and yanks a hideous-looking patterned tablecloth from the chaos of the backseat area, spreading it out on the side of the road in spite of the chilly March weather. He tells an annoyed Seunghyun to suck it up (“You’ve lived on the east coast for how many years now?” “Don’t remind me.”), and he has to admit that it’s rather nice, looking up at clear, clear blue instead of a typical, smog-filled skyline.
He shakes residual crumbs out of the blanket in the afternoon, after another one of Jiyong’s mandatory siestas. Then they’re on the road again, Seunghyun lowering the hood so that Jiyong can stand on the cushion of his seat and let the wind blow at his hair, music from the radio blasting full volume. Seunghyun doesn’t have the heart to complain about the cold anymore, just shrugs on another layer of woolly jumper and grins into the light of the setting sun.
They make a meal of s’mores for dinner, and when Seunghyun opens the mini cooler to pull out a bottle of vermouth, something that flashes red and purple and acid green catches Jiyong’s attention. “Jello!” he says excitedly, and downs a cup (or four) before Seunghyun can do anything about it. By the time the campfire’s almost burned out, Jiyong’s too intoxicated for his own good, and of course he would be, Seunghyun thinks, since he’s just eaten all of the jello shots he’d brought. And perhaps Seunghyun’s a bit drunk as well, because he doesn’t really remember when it started raining-just that something cold and wet is suddenly seeping through his shirt and he’s squelching towards Jiyong, lifting an arm over his shoulder and helping him into the back of the car.
He moves to get up, to go to the front of the car and try to get some sleep, but Jiyong isn’t as passed out as he’d thought. He pulls Seunghyun into his collarbone, damp with drops of rain and warm from his flushed skin. Seunghyun sighs into the firm curve of his neck. “What,” he mouths against Jiyong’s pulse, a hand coming up to let fingers curl in thin strands of hair; but it’s easy to understand-he already knows.
“Fuck me,” Jiyong whispers, as if it’s as normal and commonplace a request as asking for loose change or another fucking beer. The smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth betrays any type of innocent façade that might’ve rested previously on his face, and Seunghyun grins, kisses Jiyong until he’s squirming to get out of his waterlogged clothes.
The routine is deliberate and familiar, all light, glancing touches and muscle memory, but it doesn’t stop the breath from being knocked out of his chest just a little bit when Jiyong bends down to suck on the tip of his cock. Everything goes slow, unhurried white for a while, like the clouds he’d counted earlier in the day, and the delicate sensation of floating carries him all the way until he’s pressing inside, erection slick with sticky lube and Jiyong’s warm saliva. Jiyong’s so wasted off shots and the vermouth that he just hums in satisfaction at the feeling of Seunghyun’s dick even though the backseat is impossibly cramped and there are boxes digging into his side.
A faint smile flits over Jiyong’s lips and then Seunghyun’s are slanting over them again, hands brushing at Jiyong’s arms and his face and the slope of his arched back, scrabbling awkwardly for a grip as Seunghyun slides out, and then in again. Jiyong makes an indecipherably quiet noise with each thrust, some sort of cross between a sigh and a deep groan. The choked rasp of his name is enough to get Seunghyun to come, panting wetly into Jiyong’s mouth as his muscles shiver up and tense, each receding crest of pleasure ripping through his abdomen.
He sweeps the mounds of luggage onto the car floor and Jiyong sags against his shoulder, completely spent. The comforting sound of rain drumming against the rooftop lulls him to sleep, an arm tossed over Jiyong’s hip and the other stretched out against the worn leather of the seatback.
“Next time,” Jiyong croaks fiercely when he wakes up in the morning, voice piercing through the painful haze of Seunghyun’s massive hangover, “I’m screening everything you bring on our Godforsaken trips.” He proceeds to promptly open the car door and throw up.
- - - - -
With the tremendous good luck they’ve been having, it’s really no wonder that everything goes downhill from there. The idea of cow-tipping comes in the middle of the third night, born from day old corn-nuts and perhaps one too many sips of leftover Absolut. Jiyong’s giggling way too much, weaving around bushes and patches of grass as Seunghyun approaches the cow from behind, narrowly avoiding a pile of manure.
Jiyong almost collapses as he watches Seunghyun struggle against the side of the confused animal. “This is so stupid,” he gasps, pushing against rough hide. “I’m not an athlete.”
“It was your idea,” Jiyong remarks, extremely amused. With a final, sullen shove, the cow tips over onto the grassy slope with a thud. It lets out an outraged squawk before falling terribly still, and before Seunghyun can say anything-
“Oh my God,” Jiyong breathes. “You killed it.”
Seunghyun pokes at the animal’s stomach and has to jump aside to dodge a strong kick from its back-left leg. “No,” he says, moving a safe distance away, “I think it’s very much alive.”
Jiyong moves closer to examine it, stepping over the manure with a disgusted look on his face. After a couple of moments-“Seunghyun.” His head swivels around and Jiyong’s expression is exasperated and incredulous. “This isn’t a cow, it’s a dog.” Seunghyun squints at him and then back at the figure on the ground. “A really fat, really big dog.”
“I,” Seunghyun says, a little defensive. “I’m drunk. Can’t see straight. I thought it was a-a baby cow.” Jiyong mutters no, you’re just a dumbass under his breath, but he’s laughing again, small hiccoughs of sound that seem to startle the animal into movement. There’s a sudden flash of lightning, signaling possible oncoming rain for the third night in a row, and then the cow-dog bolts up and knocks into Jiyong’s legs, topples him into a huge heap of shit.
Jiyong stops laughing. The dog streaks away into the night, barking madly.
- - - - -
At dawn the following day, Jiyong makes the executive decision to head home. Seunghyun raises an eyebrow. “Well,” he snaps, “we do have to make it back in time for Monday morning classes.”
“Okay,” Seunghyun says. “But I have no idea where we are, so I’m not too sure how to get back.”
“How is that possible?” Jiyong asks with mounting unease. “You’re the one who got us here!” He fiddles with the soggy sleeve of his shirt, still streaked with water from the whole night he stood outside in the rain trying to get manure out of his hair.
“Well, you’re the enormous idiot who decided to chuck our only map out the goddamn window,” Seunghyun growls, his grip on the steering wheel so tight he can hear his knuckles popping. Jiyong turns his back to him and faces the window, not speaking. “Fine! Fine. I’ll just go backwards and hope we somehow find ourselves in Chicago within the next two days.”
They stop at the next gas station and try to get directions from the old man behind the counter, but his accented drawl is so thick that they end up just buying a map and leaving. “We’re going to be lost here forever and doomed to wander over these plains for the rest of our days and I swear,” Jiyong says ominously after a couple of hours, “I’ve seen that tree before.”
“You said that ten minutes ago,” Seunghyun grumbles. “Look, I’m just as frustrated as you are, but that’s no reason to start fighting-”
“Wait,” Jiyong interrupts, fingers pressed to his temples. “We’re so stupid.” He sighs and sticks a hand into Seunghyun’s pocket and pulls his phone out. “Technology,” he announces, “is a wonderful thing.” He navigates to the GPS screen and thrusts it into Seunghyun’s face. “Use it.”
- - - - -
They pull into campus on Sunday night, Seunghyun panicking because if he didn’t want to fail intro to statistics then he had to do all his break homework before class the next day and Jiyong panicking because he hadn’t had a decent shower in nearly a week.
In the end, though, they both sink down into bed, gross hair and disgusting clothing and all, and manage to sleep straight through Monday’s classes before the residual stink of cow manure finally wakes them up that night.
“So, what did you think?” Jiyong asks, a little apprehensive, grabbing a change of clothes from his cabinet.
“Eh,” he says, smiling. “It was alright. The sex was pretty g-”
“Don’t even start,” Jiyong scowls, and he ducks into the steamy bathroom. Seunghyun grins even harder and slips in after him.
A/N: writing this was like having a baby, i don’t even. not that i know what having a baby is like...... and i’m still a little scared that both of them are incredibly out of character but... oh well, i guess :| i cut a bunch of scenes/ideas, though they’ll probably make it into something or other eventually :3 ♥