( without question, without thought. the inevitability that they've been steadily tripping towards, a backburner of a question lingering between them, not an if but a when. a threat looming. a promise gaon's desperate to keep.
he's thought about kang yohan more than he'll ever admit. he has the sensation of him pressed full-bodied against him, chest to hip, skin on skin. he's never seen him fully unclothed but he thinks about the feeling of yohan's sturdy chest pressed to his back and the solidity of his thigh between his legs and every place yohan's hands have ever touched his skin. a palm to his throat, fingers on his cock, gaon against the wall in the shower playing images in his mind he doesn't have the words for aloud.
and here, now. now. he couldn't say no if he wanted to. the blood ringing in his ears drowns out any other options and yohan is a wall of fire he's desperate to throw himself into. he arches up against him, presses his tongue into his mouth, and uses the kiss as a distraction to actually shove his jacket down his shoulders, dislodging yohan's hands from under his shirt so that he can rock back a step and drag both sleeves off at the same time. the sound the leather makes as it falls is more satisfying than it should be, something accomplished, and gaon's hands find yohan's hips to push him back towards his own bedroom. hungry. demanding. his skin feels too tight for his body.
who is he, now? something new. something different even to where the night began. something desperate to feel kang yohan's skin against his own. )
no subject
( without question, without thought. the inevitability that they've been steadily tripping towards, a backburner of a question lingering between them, not an if but a when. a threat looming. a promise gaon's desperate to keep.
he's thought about kang yohan more than he'll ever admit. he has the sensation of him pressed full-bodied against him, chest to hip, skin on skin. he's never seen him fully unclothed but he thinks about the feeling of yohan's sturdy chest pressed to his back and the solidity of his thigh between his legs and every place yohan's hands have ever touched his skin. a palm to his throat, fingers on his cock, gaon against the wall in the shower playing images in his mind he doesn't have the words for aloud.
and here, now. now. he couldn't say no if he wanted to. the blood ringing in his ears drowns out any other options and yohan is a wall of fire he's desperate to throw himself into. he arches up against him, presses his tongue into his mouth, and uses the kiss as a distraction to actually shove his jacket down his shoulders, dislodging yohan's hands from under his shirt so that he can rock back a step and drag both sleeves off at the same time. the sound the leather makes as it falls is more satisfying than it should be, something accomplished, and gaon's hands find yohan's hips to push him back towards his own bedroom. hungry. demanding. his skin feels too tight for his body.
who is he, now? something new. something different even to where the night began. something desperate to feel kang yohan's skin against his own. )
Take me to bed.