pg, heechul/siwon, 260
it's that pause.
don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it, you think, but telling heechul to not do something is equivalent to begging him to try it, so no matter how far your stomach drops when he saunters up to you, you know you’re going to be helpless to stop anything. and then his thumb is digging into your cheek and his fingertips under your chin are rougher than you expect (not that you’ve spent much time thinking about his hands on your skin), but still gentle, and you fall upwards, helpless. his mouth is too open, too wet, and the jolt of his tongue skimming your lip shakes you up more than every speaker in the world cranked up to eleven. your eyes are closed before you know it; it’s already too much for you to handle and he smells like stage light and stage makeup and stage sweat and everything you’ve ever been taught is bad to want.
the curl of his fingers is tempting, so very very tempting, and it takes every ounce of restraint you have (hidden away, deep and out of his reach) to not follow, to not pull him down with you into an abyss you’re sure he’d thrive in and which you’d never make it out of alive. only you fall just a little bit farther than could ever be good for you in that split second between the end of heechul’s mouth on yours and the beginning of the rest of your life, that much closer to the sharp edge of reason/madness.