Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 286
Notes: I promised to write lonelysilver19 (you're a lucky girl today!) some Kangteuk or Sihan about a week ago, but school and being sick got in the way. So here is is now~
It was hardly subtle, to be serious, it was rather blatant; the touches liberally given, the curving smiles that closed his eyes and warmed him head to toe, it was nothing sudden, but when Kangin presses his lips shyly, softly on his own the sudden realization hits him hard before his eyes sink closed.
There’s something decidedly wrong about a studious leader, Kangin finds (the glasses that hang from his nose, the stuffy looking shirtsleeves, the utter concentration of whatever new document was placed before him) that made Kangin just want to rough him up a little. And as Eeteuk’s surprised squeak is swallowed into Kangin’s mouth, spectacles askew from hands ruffling and threading into that perfectly ordered hair, that’s exactly what Kangin intends to do.
He sits by the window, rain crashing against the awning and falling in sheets, as the pale light filters through; what little light filters through plays on his face, forming curving patterns across closed eyelids, and Kangin finds the last time he felt so at easy was when it rained.
Its rough (nails bite at his hips, teeth sink into his shoulder, hips coming down swiftly again again again again) but he doesn’t mind the aches in his muscles or the angry red marks he knows he’ll find blossoming in the morning; all that matters is that feeling, that delicious crawl towards that feeling when he’s soaring high, drunk from the sheer ecstasy of pain melded into pleasure.
“I… wait, what?”
Eeteuk is all long legs and soft curves (actually can hardy rip his eyes away from the sloping curvature of his chest, to be truthful), hair falling just that fraction differently and framing dark lips pouting and trembling with unhappy emotions and- oh god, he’s shaking and his breasts are moving- Kangin finds it’s very disturbing that Eeteuk has woken up as a woman.
Siwon thinks he’s begun to lose himself, and mould into a new person, saturated with Hankyung, and as foreign words flitter off his tongue, body becoming more fluid in his dancing, lips searing marks on his consciousness as they trail along his neck, he finds he doesn’t mind the assimilation.
It starts small, swirling in the pit of his belly before slowly curling upwards, filling his stomach, his limbs, before it’s pulsing with his blood and filling him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes; Siwon’s breath hitches and Hankyung knows desire has been firmly planted.
Love is a prickly thing; one has to be cautious not to let the barbs and thorns brush against the heart lest they want the delicate object to shatter into thousands of fragments and become just as sharp as the spikes that caused it. But as Hankyung pushed and pushed the younger boy farther and farther away, he began to wonder if protecting his heart was the same as breaking it.
It’s bright and silly and has some ridiculously stereotypical image on the front with the words China: Yours to Discover! writing in gaudy English, but it makes Hankyung swells with warmth at the thought of Siwon sending him a touristy postcard from his home country, just to make him smile.
He slurps the noodles of his jjajangmyun, and Hankyung has to hide his amusement from the younger boy as he devours the plate of food in front of him. Hardly thinking, Hankyung leans over, tongue darting out against his corner of Siwon’s sauce-blackened mouth, and there’s a resounding smack of his lips when he pulls back, the boy’s wide eyes and blushing cheeks far more satiating that the taste of the sauce.