#seungdoong

How does it feel to be desired? 

To be wanted? And touched? 

It was completely silence, the wind circulated the walls, some cracks of wooden ripping the darkness, passing inaudible into the hallway. The night was steamy falling upon the windows, flashes of moonlight were coming through the curtains and drowning the sleeping body by the corner, the shape of it covered by the thin, blank sheets that formed curves and curves rising and falling with the movement of his chest, the breathing was heavy as his mind was far lost in the world of dreaming, of fantasy. Calm, and relaxing as the evening hours passed, letting the daily stress go away. The beautiful traces of the face ever so soft rested on the fluffy pillow, and the burned-blonde locks made a nest there from the times the body turned side to side, finding a comfortable way to give in into the numbness, and sleep. 

From the opposite corner, the wooden door cracked into a line of metallic sounds that rang until the door was opened just enough to be able to run from the dark apartment. Firm footsteps echoed right after, like the feet needed to be clued on the floor, like they needed the support way too much, and a figure appeared in the room, standing tall and the symphony of metals came again as the door was closed, now with the key click to lock them inside. The waves of liquid hitting glass could be heard when the footsteps made their lazy path to the mattress on the floor. Silence again, and the figure didn't do any act, only there, the torso and head submerged into the darkness while the legs were being showered by moonlight, the black skinny jeans shined a shade of blue, the transparent glass became a mirror, reflecting spots of white and the orangish brown liquid won a yellow tone, not stopping the dance inside their prison. Soon it was brought to the wet pair of lips, soaked with saliva, the tongue imitating habits of licking them because seemed, when the glass was pouring the liquid into the mouth, they would dry.

  The Adam Apple moved in the neck, up and down, following the sequence of liquid engulfed, and instead of burning his throat, it had a soft sweet taste of whiskey with the citrus soda mixed hours before. The big sips took long seconds to be concluded, and when the hand backed the bottle off, the liquid was much less than half, one more of those hunger swallows and it’d be gone. The tongue licked the swollen lips as expected and then the figure fell to the knees with a smooth thug, next to the sleeping body. By millimeters, the phone wasn't smashed, and if wasn't for the new figure, nothing would be changed. But a whistle was cutting the silence, along with the wind. Two notes, two syllables. A call for the other man in the room, a call to take him away from the dreams, however it failed and the long eyelashes only flicked against the top of the cheeks, disturbed, but not enough to wake up. The bottle was placed on the floor with difficult, circulating the bottom on the ground, before acquiring the balance to be quietly there. 

“Seungho...” the figure opened the mouth so the whisper could come out nicely, the hands grabbing the dark jeans, still insecure of touching the body in his front. He started to bounce on his own legs, and his head bent over, the silky, black hair hiding his dizzy eyes. The inside of his mind was full of thoughts, a mess of scenarios that could happen, half good, half bad, but he was prepared. The alcohol ran his veins, dominated his conscious self and his heart was fast in the beat, like a heavy rhythm that couldn’t be tamed. There was no getting back. 

The right hand pulled the sheet from the body, revealing his elder laying still peacefully on the bed, he stopped bouncing, millions of shivers traveled the spine, and his lips dried with the vision of the bare torso. The usually tanned skin was glowing with the night, the ribs were slightly poking out after the chest, every piece of flesh covered with a thin, thin layer of sweat, smoother to the touch. The tender, white hand palmed the chest, the tongue clicked inside the mouth feeling the warm skin on his palm, and the desire could be taste there, invading him with want, with desperation. The fingers rubbed slowly the skin, sliding easily until the hip, where they squeezed, wanting more. 

The action was heavy, he was too firm with the caress, the body moved and the eyelashes flicked twice now until they reached the eyelids, the almond orbs wide open with the new pressure on himself, and they just saw a dark figure close, too close, too unknown, slightly bending. The fear creeped his mind, the shock took the control away, his heart lost many beats, as the air was out of his lungs and the only thing he did was to protest. With force, the smallish hands pushed the stranger back, sitting to defeat himself, but it wasn't need. His eyes got used to the darkness, and the dim light allowed him to see the man falling behind was one of his members. The flawless face was paler under the moon, his skin was paper white with a blue shimmer, the colors of his iris were pitch black as they also widened with the sudden push — his lips were purple and parted. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” his voice was huskier from the sleep, firm and loud to fill the room and scare the other, but calm and low to not wake anybody else. His back was forming a C in the air, the shoulders down with the tension not completely gone, and he sighed, the air leaving his mouth heavy. The other didn't move, still surprised, yet his eyelashes fell normally on the eyes, and Seungho passed a hand on his messy hair, annoyed with the silence. For long seconds, nothing happened, what left the older with a sleepy frown, and the tired feeling slowly began to take over. When his face turned to tell the other to go back to his bedroom, he spotted the almost empty bottle of whiskey next to his pillow, and as if the entire sleepy state he was found disappeared with the wind. There was no space even for anger, just confusion. His right eyebrow arched, and he eyed the other again. Now he could see the vestiges. How the big hands were trembling on the floor, like the body was too heavy for them, the cloudy aura on the black immensity of the eyes, how he was staring back, but the focus was forced, and the smell of the sweet perfume together with the alcohol.

“Are you drunk?” he asked much worried than anything, his nails scratching his nape just by the thought of taking care of a drunk Sanghyun at 3 or 4AM. It was not a secret he had issues with alcohol, and when he said he didn't drink was actually because even a bottle of beer could change his senses, and leave him ‘soft’ like a doll, his tolerance to intoxication was so low, he only had drinks when they were able to sleep soon and he wouldn't cause troubles. But he definitely didn't have a beer and Seungho reached to his side, his hand taking time to get the bottle, still numb from the time without moving. He forced his vision to read the white letters there, “Black Label”. He couldn't believe it any bit as passed the cane next to his nose, the smell strong and impossible to be mistaken, but still had something else. 

“Just a little bit,” Sanghyun said, yet his voice was slowing the way out and the pause between the words was long. The boy began to move, his hands going to his front, palming the floor, and his right hand went closer to Seungho, his right knee following — his body on four, crawling to the mattress, clumsy as if he was a child, a baby.

  “Why are you dr—” he was saying, but cutted himself when Sanghyun continue to crawl already by the mattress, the left hand touching his knee, when was going up on the hips. “What are you doing?”

No answer, because once the younger supported his weight on Seungho, he tried to pass his long leg to the other side so he could sit on his lap, yet his bad reflects didn't let him, and his weight balanced off to the left and he almost fell if he wasn't held by the shoulder. He tried again, this time also using the help to sit. Sanghyun had his weight on Seungho, locking the body between his toned thighs; he was warm and the palms closed on the chest, part to feel the smooth skin, part because his head was spinning from the efforts. 

“Hmmm... Seungho,” he whispered in his own little world. The body under was welcoming, and the calm breath was caressing his cheek of how close they were, in fact, they always fitted perfectly together, there was no explanation. A shiver ran down Seungho when the slender fingers traced his collarbone, and Sanghyun admired the manly features of his leader. The maliciously meaty, red lips that was just made to kiss, to suck, the slim face with the sun tan, and the brown eyes contrasting with the dark circles banging under, giving the man a mystery air, the dangerous effect, and the moon just made his state more sinister, more attractive. 

“Hey,” Seungho called his attention, softly, empathy dripping from his mouth, and he supported his torso with the free hand behind him, while the bottle was held tight on the other. The cloudy eyes took some seconds to change the stare from the lips to the eyes, still like a child learning the face he already knew too much. “Where did you get this?”

The later shook his head as if he shouldn't know how he got that bottle and his muscular arms wrapped around the neck in a hugged, in an attempt to get closer, the hips rubbed down on the red boxer, what caused a surprised noise to fill the room, and a deep breath that Sanghyun felt right on his nose. The childish expression then changed dramatically, Seungho watched the cute lips turning into a smirk, and the eyes closing with a nasty thought in his head. 

“Did you like?” the whisper pierced his ear, a sensual tone that usually was never there, yet it was dope and Seungho's tongue traveled his thick lips, leaving them shinning, and his mind ignored the burning feel that tried to peer off his skin. The last thing he needed by the moment was a drunk plus horny Sanghyun on top of him; everything told him to get the boy off there, to take him to his own bedroom where he would sleep out of the state he found himself — but in the end, Seungho would still have a bottle of whiskey in his hands, and no explanation of how it appeared and why his member was drunk.

  “Cheondung,” he showed no softness now, only a firm voice of an order. “Where did you get this?”

“Does it matter?” Sanghyun said, as if he was exhausted, the smirk playing a game of disappearing and appearing together with the mood changes, his arms hugged the neck bringing their face closer, and he poked Seungho's nose with his. The warmth of bodies was becoming overwhelming in the heat of the night, and sweat was forming on his forehead, which he didn't care for at all, because the craving of before was pumping in his veins, and he wanted to taste Seungho, wanted to suck, and kiss, and bite. He'd do it if wasn't by the hand on his cheek, holding him still. 

“Where, Sanghyun?” his name coming out so rough was a sign of re-approval, yet, in his ears, the huskiness and danger on it didn't do anything, but to wake a desire on his insides, desire to hear it again, to have that danger, to own him. The pianist fingers opened on his smooth cheek and slightly squeezed to make him open his eyes, and he did, staring at the dead glare being throw at him, the trick the leader used to scare his members, the thing that was so Seungho, a warning everyone never hoped to experience, didn't do much, nothing actually. And Sanghyun just giggled, it couldn't affect him, not in the state he was. 

“I brought it,” the face was turned on the hand, and the heart lips parted so the shark, pearly teeth could give the middle finger a light bite, not closing entirely, just enough to feel the sharpness of them, while the eyes still dared the elder. “I mixed soda too, but just a little bit, just how you like.” 

Seungho didn't take his hand of Sanghyun, instead he took a deep breath to control himself, but the small bite had put his nerves on the surface of his skin, had his hair spiking up from his nape. And wasn't able to ignore more the sensation growing on his lower belly, the pressure there. The younger still has the playful smirk, noticing he didn't tell him to stop, and from that cute, little mouth, his hot tongue came, the wet tip meeting his middle finger and Sanghyun let his eyelids fall half way, not closing the eyes just then, and Seungho felt the shiver running from the spot on his finger down to his spine, to his crouch. Sanghyun backed off his face just to lick the finger base to the tip, traces of saliva left behind, and soon engulfed the finger inside as it was the whiskey instead. The older parted his lips watching it, a silent groan exiting them, as the hot mouth started to suck, and he sensed the sore walls around as the tip now could actually sense the start of the throat, and the younger sucked with want, humming something muffled, his lips in a tight prison on the base. It didn't last, Sanghyun let it go with a pop that echoed in the entire room, and right where he was sitting on the other, he could felt the beginning of a hard-on against his ass. 

“Drink with me, Seungho, come...” his voice was a thin line in the air, caressing the silence, as his hands unwrapped the neck to search the bottle, and one palmed the floor, right where he left it, but found only the cold wood, and the other palmed the mattress by their side, where was empty, they started to palm around for it, until one closed around the cane. SangHyun took it off from the grip, his free fingers now resting on Seungho's chin, his thumb guaranteeing the lips remained apart while he placed the cane between them. 

Seungho allowed him to title his chin so the liquid could fall on his mouth, he immediately tasted the whiskey with the soda like he was told, it burned his tongue, however he took the sip SangHyun wanted him too, the mixture went down his throat burning the way in, forcing him to close his eyes, and when he thought would be over, it was still being poured on his mouth, and his reflects swallowed down so the liquid couldn't fall on his body. It pleased him, and was just how he liked it, Sanghyun didn't fail in doing it just good, just a bit of soda to smooth out the alcohol and make it bittersweet. He tried to close his lips then, before he could get dizzy from the big shot, but the cane didn't let him, and he held the younger's wrist to take it off, closing his lips in the sequence, swallowing the last time, but the bottle wasn't turned in the right time, and a small amount came off from the corner of his lips, long and fat drops sliding down to his chin and neck. And when his free hand was moving to wipe them, Sanghyun was faster. His hot tongue was flat on the skin, right on his jugular, and Seungho moved his head and shoulder towards there with the nice, wet feeling of the drops being licked away. 

“Sanghyun,” he called, holding the other by the sides, the muscles under his touch hard, and too warm even covered by the shirt, he knew then, the boy was sweating under the clothes. “What are you doing, hm?”

“I just want...” the answered was murmured against his neck, more shivers found his spine, and in the dark, where they both could see everything, Sanghyun straightened his torso so he could finish the whiskey, the bottle turned in the air, the thick neck was visible as his head was arched backwards, and Seungho saw the sweat there, glowing in the pale and warm skin, forming small drops that fell to the cotton and disappeared, following the swallowing movement on his throat. The empty bottle was placed next to the mattress with the same difficult from before, and immediately Seungho's face was held by the cool hands, the skinny fingers so large reaching his temples with the palms still on his cheeks. He just loved them, the size, the feel, everything about that pair of hands, how big they were, able to hold his neck, his shoulders, and his face, every single inch of him. “I just want to spoil my leader...”

There was no time to say anything, and Seungho shut the eyelids with force, squeezing the sides of him as a response of how that sentence affected his sanity, the taunt ass began grinding down roughly on his member already hard from the feel. Scenes of a nude Sanghyun filled his conscious, the imagines of that smooth skin, with the salient muscles in every part of it, usually down his body. The beatific pupils under heavy lashes always focused on his lips, as the tip of tongue was clued to the sharp front teeth, as quiet plead to be kissed, and the eyebrows lifted high on the forehead, just as the orgasm was starting to crawl up from the abusing his bottom was suffering, the short, fast thrusts somehow making the whole body bounce on top of whatever mobile used to support, the puffy arms stretched so the trembling, desperate nails could scratch all down Seungho's chest, digging the tan. But specially the blissful imagine of the abdomen, white lines decorated over, from the beginning to the end — flexed in a rush with every little breath, little moan, more and more, just signaling how close he was. And the sound of his tongue clicking on his mouth seconds before cumming echoed in the ears for several times, the alluring orbs rolling backwards, the sticky drops dirtying the entirely tensed abdomen. 

Yet, Sanghyun was sober, aware of the delight they shared in the nights at hot hotel rooms while MBLAQ was in a trip, on Sanghyun's bedroom at his house with Dara, where they would kiss and kiss to muffle the noise to not wake her, on even right there, inside Seungho's room after a long day dancing and sweating, when SangHyun’d appear by the door, with the lips in a shy, thin line and lay down on the mattress, and they would have lazy sex, without much efforts, as it was a kiss of goodbye, to relax before sleeping in a spoon. Sanghyun would always know where he was, what he was doing, and Seungho would always make sure it was what he wanted. He had to shake out the thoughts, and stare at the moonlight black iris staring back willing to succumb into the carnal pleasure.

“Shhh, Sanghyun, listen to me...” He tried to speak in a soft whisper, yet his voice was rasp and his uneasy breath was smelling alcohol, his own body wasn't responding to his commands, because it was lost in the desire of having the boy around his cock, so tight and so welcoming, never failing to take all without complaining a bit, instead, rolling to bury him deep inside. “I’m gonna take you to your bed, okay?”

“No!” It was almost a shout in the silence dorm, loud to escape the four walls and enter into every single room of it, low to be mistaken as the street sound outside. It was no whine, because Sanghyun forced Seungho's face closer to his, the desire was transporting from the pores along the sweat, and the tongue licked the earlobe with the small, black earring, the saliva flicked with the action, and Seungho felt a pulse down his hard-on. “If you are tired, I can do the work...”

The whisper was sensual as before, in a tone Sanghyun had only for him, no one else could hear it. The younger stopped the grinding, a little space for the other to breathe properly and for a giggle infect the night, yet he started to move up and down on the lap, softly and clumsy, a clue for what he meant. Seungho understood, and his mind again was filled with imagines of a drunk SangHyun, the cloudy and sloppiness aura on the worked out thighs, not allowing both to have a clear sensation, but full satisfaction of the erratic ride, and he would be too needy to be calm, craving his fingertips onto his own cheeks as normally did, while his ass kept sliding on the cock, flesh covered by sweat and heavy gasps dripping from his throat.

  “God... you’re so hard already...” it was more of a moan, than a whisper, the shark teeth bit the lobe, and Seungho felt himself pulsing with the delicious friction of boxer and jeans.