[ficlet(s)] icarus wings (1/10)
Title: icarus wings
Pairing: GTOP (eventually)
Genre: romance
Rating: R-NC17
Warnings: swearing, jacking off
Author: gdgdbaby
Parts: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10
Summary: Collection of PWPs & character sketches revolving around the GTOP pairing.
Notes: icarus wings is probably going to be the name of a series of ficlets, actually, this being the first XD cross-posted at bigbang_fanfic & g_top . Edited 12/11/10.
Boys jack off.
It's what they do, especially given the age he and his peers are, and is more inherent than eating and giving passing girls a once over. It's like breathing (and infinitely more pleasurable.)
And so it is that Jiyong finds himself, after a particularly trying day (they wanted him to wear fucking blue lipstick, for God’s sake! And damn Seungho had the gall to make kissy noises as he grimly applied it to his lips) with as much patience as Youngbae looking for his Bible and as snappy as Seunghyun on a diet, attempting to work off stress in a way that resulted in minimal loss of limbs (though it wouldn’t hurt to just barge in the next room and sic himself on maknae-right.)
He'd acquired his… little problem on the way back in the van, (it was strange how his body reacted in ways even he couldn’t sometimes comprehend) for no reason at all. He wasn’t even thinking about anything remotely sexual, for fuck’s sake, just stressing over the fact that he needed to prepare for a press conference tomorrow, that their English teacher had insisted on him doing exercises page 20-30 by the end of the next day, that Gaho had probably pissed all over the dining room carpet (for the 23rd time), that his damn roots were growing out again (he was a diva with standards to uphold, dammit), and then oh hello, erection. Youngbae would call him an alien as a joke, and then remember that it was mostly true.
Huffing a little as he thinks about it, he leans back on the bed and closes his eyes, darkness enveloping his room like an old friend. Gaho is outside in the foyer, no doubt curled in Boss’s basket (it's funny how the two’s relationship mirrored his and Youngbae's), and Seunghyun is probably out having a smoke on the rooftop, Daesung calling God-knows-who on the phone, Seungri listening jealously outside his hyung’s room - and then his hand brushes the tip of his hard-on and he doesn't think about anything else anymore for a while.
Still, climax escapes him, try as he might to find a quick release. Sighing, he lightly scratches short nails down the length of his cock, using his other hand to gently fondle a nipple - the one Seunghyun pinched on air at Global Warning, he recalls suddenly - and feels a ripple, a shiver of something that he can't quite describe.
“Need help with that?” comes a soft, husky voice from the doorway.
His eyes fly open, shitIthoughtIclosedthedoorwhatthefuckishedoingtherewhaaaaaaaat-“Um… whah?”
Seunghyun grins, deep-set eyes gleaming in the darkness from the dim light in the hallway.
“Given the fact that I have the same anatomy as you do, I’m sure I could pull it off somehow.”
Resigned, Jiyong’s eyes meet his lazily. “Sure, c’mere.” Didn’t guys do this all the time with each other anyway?
Seunghyun slowly obliges, sitting down next to where he lays on the bed and reaching over. The first touch of his warm, calloused hand on his erection brings forth an involuntary gasp. Somewhere along the line, Jiyong shifts upwards, his face buried in Seunghyun’s shoulder, shirt muffling increasingly loud moans as he rocks into Seunghyun's hand. An arm that previously encircled Jiyong's waist moves down to gently stroke his balls, rolling them around and the friction between Seunghyun’s hand and his cock has him grasping desperately at the bedsheets (sorry, Tom and Laura) and Seunghyun’s loose shirt.
I suppose it is true when they say that boys give better handjobs is his last coherent thought before a rather insistent tug that tingles deliciously across his dick has him biting back a cry and shuddering, coming into Seunghyun’s hand.
He rests his head on Seunghyun's shoulder for a second longer, trying to control his breathing. When he looks up, Seunghyun's wearing a smug expression and eyeing the release all over his hand. He starts bringing it up to his mouth, but Jiyong’s face looks so horrified that he starts chuckling.
“Don’t be an idiot, hyung. That’s disgusting.”
“Mhm, if you say so, Jiyong.”
He wants to pull Seunghyun’s hand down when he starts licking his fingers, but suddenly, the afterglow hits him and he can barely move - his head hits Seunghyun’s shoulder again, and he can't find the strength in himself to lift it again.
“Don’t worry, Ji. It tastes nice.”
“You’re a freak.”
“Touché,” Seunghyun mutters drily. He wipes the rest of his hand off with tissue from the bedside table and lowers a lethargic Jiyong back into a lying position, tucking him into bed. Jiyong tries concentrating, wants to ask Seunghyun what the repercussions of this might be, wants to ask him why?, wants to know where the hell this is going, but the pleasing haze of content keeps on obstructing his higher brain functions (damn you, Choi Seunghyun.)
“I’m-”
“Stressed, I know.” His hyung’s blurry face comes into focus for a second and then drowsiness overcomes him once again. “Sleep for now. We’ll talk in the morning.”
That night he dreams of soaring, flying, reaching for an ever elusive sun.
Pairing: GTOP (eventually)
Genre: romance
Rating: R-NC17
Warnings: swearing, jacking off
Author: gdgdbaby
Parts: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10
Summary: Collection of PWPs & character sketches revolving around the GTOP pairing.
Notes: icarus wings is probably going to be the name of a series of ficlets, actually, this being the first XD cross-posted at bigbang_fanfic & g_top . Edited 12/11/10.
Boys jack off.
It's what they do, especially given the age he and his peers are, and is more inherent than eating and giving passing girls a once over. It's like breathing (and infinitely more pleasurable.)
And so it is that Jiyong finds himself, after a particularly trying day (they wanted him to wear fucking blue lipstick, for God’s sake! And damn Seungho had the gall to make kissy noises as he grimly applied it to his lips) with as much patience as Youngbae looking for his Bible and as snappy as Seunghyun on a diet, attempting to work off stress in a way that resulted in minimal loss of limbs (though it wouldn’t hurt to just barge in the next room and sic himself on maknae-right.)
He'd acquired his… little problem on the way back in the van, (it was strange how his body reacted in ways even he couldn’t sometimes comprehend) for no reason at all. He wasn’t even thinking about anything remotely sexual, for fuck’s sake, just stressing over the fact that he needed to prepare for a press conference tomorrow, that their English teacher had insisted on him doing exercises page 20-30 by the end of the next day, that Gaho had probably pissed all over the dining room carpet (for the 23rd time), that his damn roots were growing out again (he was a diva with standards to uphold, dammit), and then oh hello, erection. Youngbae would call him an alien as a joke, and then remember that it was mostly true.
Huffing a little as he thinks about it, he leans back on the bed and closes his eyes, darkness enveloping his room like an old friend. Gaho is outside in the foyer, no doubt curled in Boss’s basket (it's funny how the two’s relationship mirrored his and Youngbae's), and Seunghyun is probably out having a smoke on the rooftop, Daesung calling God-knows-who on the phone, Seungri listening jealously outside his hyung’s room - and then his hand brushes the tip of his hard-on and he doesn't think about anything else anymore for a while.
Still, climax escapes him, try as he might to find a quick release. Sighing, he lightly scratches short nails down the length of his cock, using his other hand to gently fondle a nipple - the one Seunghyun pinched on air at Global Warning, he recalls suddenly - and feels a ripple, a shiver of something that he can't quite describe.
“Need help with that?” comes a soft, husky voice from the doorway.
His eyes fly open, shitIthoughtIclosedthedoorwhatthefuckishedoingtherewhaaaaaaaat-“Um… whah?”
Seunghyun grins, deep-set eyes gleaming in the darkness from the dim light in the hallway.
“Given the fact that I have the same anatomy as you do, I’m sure I could pull it off somehow.”
Resigned, Jiyong’s eyes meet his lazily. “Sure, c’mere.” Didn’t guys do this all the time with each other anyway?
Seunghyun slowly obliges, sitting down next to where he lays on the bed and reaching over. The first touch of his warm, calloused hand on his erection brings forth an involuntary gasp. Somewhere along the line, Jiyong shifts upwards, his face buried in Seunghyun’s shoulder, shirt muffling increasingly loud moans as he rocks into Seunghyun's hand. An arm that previously encircled Jiyong's waist moves down to gently stroke his balls, rolling them around and the friction between Seunghyun’s hand and his cock has him grasping desperately at the bedsheets (sorry, Tom and Laura) and Seunghyun’s loose shirt.
I suppose it is true when they say that boys give better handjobs is his last coherent thought before a rather insistent tug that tingles deliciously across his dick has him biting back a cry and shuddering, coming into Seunghyun’s hand.
He rests his head on Seunghyun's shoulder for a second longer, trying to control his breathing. When he looks up, Seunghyun's wearing a smug expression and eyeing the release all over his hand. He starts bringing it up to his mouth, but Jiyong’s face looks so horrified that he starts chuckling.
“Don’t be an idiot, hyung. That’s disgusting.”
“Mhm, if you say so, Jiyong.”
He wants to pull Seunghyun’s hand down when he starts licking his fingers, but suddenly, the afterglow hits him and he can barely move - his head hits Seunghyun’s shoulder again, and he can't find the strength in himself to lift it again.
“Don’t worry, Ji. It tastes nice.”
“You’re a freak.”
“Touché,” Seunghyun mutters drily. He wipes the rest of his hand off with tissue from the bedside table and lowers a lethargic Jiyong back into a lying position, tucking him into bed. Jiyong tries concentrating, wants to ask Seunghyun what the repercussions of this might be, wants to ask him why?, wants to know where the hell this is going, but the pleasing haze of content keeps on obstructing his higher brain functions (damn you, Choi Seunghyun.)
“I’m-”
“Stressed, I know.” His hyung’s blurry face comes into focus for a second and then drowsiness overcomes him once again. “Sleep for now. We’ll talk in the morning.”
That night he dreams of soaring, flying, reaching for an ever elusive sun.