Coffee Mugs
Coffee Mugs
For snoorella
Sometimes - meaning every single stinking day - he wished that he was the coffee mug that Siwon drank out of in the morning. He would love to feel those strong fingers curled around him, warm from a morning workout and never still against the ceramic. Those fingers, that traced the lip of the mug when it was on the table and then grasped it firmly to lift it to those tempting lips. It was an excellent analogy in his mind, save for the fact that he was jealous nearly every day over a piece of dishware.
The man’s fingers wouldn’t need to touch any specific part of him - although he could obviously create some rather lewd analogies from the cup - just touching him would be fine. It would be enough to have them carefully draw up his arm the same way they gingerly flip the pages of the Bible on his lap - that thought felt too much like something sacrilegious to continue it - or better yet curled around his arm the way they occasionally held the highlighter laying nearby.
It wouldn’t be nearly as distracting if the man didn’t have a problem wearing his shirt to the breakfast table - he wasn’t complaining just pointing out a fact - since that large expanse of muscled skin would be distracting to the straightest man. Not to mention that his hair was always wet from a shower - thankfully not dripping on his shoulders since drooling in the kitchen was likely frowned upon - and it didn’t take much imagination to place the dampness from sweat as opposed to a cleansing shower. In fact, he had seen that hair soaked with sweat more times than he could count, which clearly didn’t help his mind in the slightest.
If that had been all perhaps he would have been fine, but Siwon never failed to stick the end of his pencil in his mouth to nibble on while he read. He could think of a million - most of them needing a much higher rating than G - pieces of his own body that the man could nibble on instead of the pencil. Never would he mind the caress of those lips or the gentle pressure of teeth.
As a child he never had thought he would be envious of common house hold objects, but as he had reached adulthood he couldn’t count the number of things he was jealous of. Even the most mundane objects such as the chair that was cradling the man’s weight - although he was more concerned with the specific part of the man it was cradling - had begun to receive a scathing look from him daily. One of these days he may be tempted to destroy them all - blamed upon, of course, a rage from a horrible loss at one of his games - just to get back at them for teasing him so.
The chair scraped as Siwon moved it back and he averted his eyes - he was not staring at the object of his affection - to the sink where he was washing his cereal bowl, again. He could feel the man beside him before he saw the hand reach out and rinse out the mug, their shoulders brushing together as he did so. Siwon swished the water a few times and then turned it over so it could drip dry by the time he would need it again.
A hand settled then, warm and firm on his shoulder - melting into a warm puzzle of ooze was probably also frowned upon in their dorm - and the fingers squeezed lightly. “I’ll see you later tonight Kyuhyun,” Siwon told him, his voice warm - there were hints of excitement in it he was certain - as he squeezed his shoulder again.
“Yeah,” he answered, pathetically unresponsive - turning around and jumping the man was his other option and that was just a bad plan - as he continued to scrub at the invisible caked on substance in his bowl. He was released and then hears the man walking from the room.
Only when Siwon was gone did he turn and give a smirk to the mug - not like a victorious child thank you very much - before muttering, “I don’t see him excited about seeing you tonight.” Perhaps he didn’t want to be the mug quite so much after all. Besides he had never seen Siwon hug his mug as he was certain to do to him in approximately 8 hours 34 minutes and 6 seconds, assuming traffic didn’t cause a problem, so the mug could just take that in its annoyingly plain ceramic face.
AN: Some days I worry about my muses.
For snoorella
Sometimes - meaning every single stinking day - he wished that he was the coffee mug that Siwon drank out of in the morning. He would love to feel those strong fingers curled around him, warm from a morning workout and never still against the ceramic. Those fingers, that traced the lip of the mug when it was on the table and then grasped it firmly to lift it to those tempting lips. It was an excellent analogy in his mind, save for the fact that he was jealous nearly every day over a piece of dishware.
The man’s fingers wouldn’t need to touch any specific part of him - although he could obviously create some rather lewd analogies from the cup - just touching him would be fine. It would be enough to have them carefully draw up his arm the same way they gingerly flip the pages of the Bible on his lap - that thought felt too much like something sacrilegious to continue it - or better yet curled around his arm the way they occasionally held the highlighter laying nearby.
It wouldn’t be nearly as distracting if the man didn’t have a problem wearing his shirt to the breakfast table - he wasn’t complaining just pointing out a fact - since that large expanse of muscled skin would be distracting to the straightest man. Not to mention that his hair was always wet from a shower - thankfully not dripping on his shoulders since drooling in the kitchen was likely frowned upon - and it didn’t take much imagination to place the dampness from sweat as opposed to a cleansing shower. In fact, he had seen that hair soaked with sweat more times than he could count, which clearly didn’t help his mind in the slightest.
If that had been all perhaps he would have been fine, but Siwon never failed to stick the end of his pencil in his mouth to nibble on while he read. He could think of a million - most of them needing a much higher rating than G - pieces of his own body that the man could nibble on instead of the pencil. Never would he mind the caress of those lips or the gentle pressure of teeth.
As a child he never had thought he would be envious of common house hold objects, but as he had reached adulthood he couldn’t count the number of things he was jealous of. Even the most mundane objects such as the chair that was cradling the man’s weight - although he was more concerned with the specific part of the man it was cradling - had begun to receive a scathing look from him daily. One of these days he may be tempted to destroy them all - blamed upon, of course, a rage from a horrible loss at one of his games - just to get back at them for teasing him so.
The chair scraped as Siwon moved it back and he averted his eyes - he was not staring at the object of his affection - to the sink where he was washing his cereal bowl, again. He could feel the man beside him before he saw the hand reach out and rinse out the mug, their shoulders brushing together as he did so. Siwon swished the water a few times and then turned it over so it could drip dry by the time he would need it again.
A hand settled then, warm and firm on his shoulder - melting into a warm puzzle of ooze was probably also frowned upon in their dorm - and the fingers squeezed lightly. “I’ll see you later tonight Kyuhyun,” Siwon told him, his voice warm - there were hints of excitement in it he was certain - as he squeezed his shoulder again.
“Yeah,” he answered, pathetically unresponsive - turning around and jumping the man was his other option and that was just a bad plan - as he continued to scrub at the invisible caked on substance in his bowl. He was released and then hears the man walking from the room.
Only when Siwon was gone did he turn and give a smirk to the mug - not like a victorious child thank you very much - before muttering, “I don’t see him excited about seeing you tonight.” Perhaps he didn’t want to be the mug quite so much after all. Besides he had never seen Siwon hug his mug as he was certain to do to him in approximately 8 hours 34 minutes and 6 seconds, assuming traffic didn’t cause a problem, so the mug could just take that in its annoyingly plain ceramic face.
AN: Some days I worry about my muses.