â treasure's paragon ; °
like impulsive fire, he skips steps and slides fingers, down underneath the final layer of clothing. he fingers along the otherâs erection, before wrapping around to slowly stroke him. involuntarily, char is the one that moans, a puff of hot breath kissing joonmyunâs lips for him.Â
silence greets charâs words because he doesnât have to say anything â he knows he doesnât have to say anything, and thatâs whatâs so beautiful about it. the panic in his eyes turns to something so peculiar, something so recognizable and joonmyun can only smile through the tears, smile like his heart is bursting and heâs sure that it probably is. itâs love that has his thumbs tracing the skin underneath charâs eyes; itâs love that has him smiling through his tears. a myocardial rupture in the shape of a flame destroying the walls of his heart. before he knew it, before he recognized, kim joonmyun was marked by fire, taken by the flame. the smile on his face proves it, the burn through his limbs proves just how deep the other man has burned through his veins. heâs happy. heâs happy.
a small voice asks just how long this will last, but joonmyun drowns it out and pays it no mind because heâs far too focused now on the way char feels upon his skin. he doesnât want to focus on the voice telling him heâs not good enough because charâs lips, charâs hands say otherwise and for once, joonmyun wants to believe that he could mean something to someone. he just wants to mean something to him. he wants to believe that even for a sinner, a monster, someone worthless who canât change the world no matter how hard he tries â he wants to believe that this kind of person deserves all the love in the world, too. and so he cups his hands around charâs neck in affection, curls fingers into the ends of his pretty blond hair. he is somebody. he will be somebody, at least for now. at least until this precious moment runs its course.
joonmyun doesnât think that giving up little pieces of himself is wrong if thatâs what he wants to do.
he realizes that he shouldnât be thinking, not in a situation like this â but he canât help it. not until charâs lips travel from lip, to neck, to chest and theyâre slipping away like dirt under running water. he wonders for a moment if char is purifying him; he knows he is. char has always been way too bright and hot to the touch, and flame burns the rotten to bring forth something new. something beautiful. joonmyun wonders if heâll be beautiful when charâs done marking him with his lips, with his mouth around his â ⌠⌠he shouldnât think like that. he admonishes himself with a smile and joonmyunâs hands slip from their grip on the edges of his hair to the top of his head, toying with the wisps and looking at char with eyes half lidded, so full of love. yes, heâs almost full to bursting.
especially when char kisses him like heâs hungry, starved â for him, and itâs something thatâs so unusual to be that wanted. even the last time he took a stroll on loverâs lane, joonmyun was not adored ( not like now ). it already has him shaking at the barest touch of lip, makes him moan when char presses down on the heat of his lust with a devilâs grin. of course heâs sensitive. â itâs been a while.â is what he admits with a gasp, too busy trying not to push his hips into the pressure of charâs hand. but the reality of it is that heâs never come undone by anyoneâs hands like this, not before. joonmyun has made love until heâs cried, but never has he felt like fire. this is charâs doing. this is all for char.
kim joonmyun is all for char. and he will never be for anyone else.
the thought almost hits him like a freight train. he tries to tell himself that he shouldnât be thinking, not like this, not with charâs lips to his hips and so close that he has joonmyun biting his lips and struggling against himself not to turn into a needy teenager when heâs anything but. but thinking is all that joonmyun does, in the depths of night when heâs alone or in crowds of people that hurry past with gazes down, too terrified to look each other in the eye. his thoughts are all charcharchar and heâs only half paying attention when the man slurs his words, hides himself in embarrassment. joonmyun thinks heâs perfect, so he laughs. breathy and light and he kisses his ear. â me neither.â a small attempt to make him comfortable, even in this â joonmyun is the same, and he is changed. he will grow.
⌠even if he does feel like heâs about six years younger with charâs hands down his pants.
he freezes a little when he feels the first stroke â itâs been a long time, joonmyun knows it, char knows it. Â but nothing has felt quite so perfect to the touch as charâs hands on him. so joonmyun relaxes then ( or tries not to buck his hips, at least, doesnât want to appear quite so desperate ). he buries himself in pillows and the softness of his bed and sighs long, loud; whispers keep going into charâs kissed -red lips. he doesnât ask for anything much, doesnât ask for anything at all â wonders if itâs okay to indulge in this bit of greed, knows that he doesnât deserve it. but he wants. itâs what he wants, so he allows his own fingers to travel slow and steady up charâs spine, feeling the bones stick his fingers through hot skin and this is probably what euphoria feels like. joonmyun can feel the way that char moves when he ruts against his thigh and the strength of his backbones, and he wraps his arms around him tight. he pulls char closer, presses his thigh hard in between his legs to give him some relief. he adores the way char feels on top of him, legs tangled and all desire.
this is unlike him to be so wanting, and he knows heâll feel guilty for it later to the point of a physical sickness that burns inside his stomach. but for now, for now joonmyun just bumps his nose against charâs once before he kisses him slow and breathes a moan to his teeth, his tongue. more. his fingers tighten their grip on precious skin and by the end of this heâs sure heâs going to be murmuring apologies into charâs back later.
if greed is a mortal sin, he might as well take all he can before hell hath no fury.
