by Rei (レイ)
illustrated by dawninhell
(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/79820.html)
illustrated by dawninhell
o1; The Meeting
The first thing that Ji-Hoon notices is Hye-Dong – he moves like a snake in water in the middle of the dance floor; all smooth liquid grace under strobing lights and pounding music, under a thin haze of smoke. There is a flash of hands, the grounding of hips and a smile thrown across the floor.
Ji-Hoon breaks eye contact first and waves for the bartender. “Vodka and coke, no ice.”
When he turns back, Hye-Dong isn’t on the floor anymore and Ji-Hoon instead sees a head with black roots and bleached blonde tips, dark eyes and a curving smile, pressing comfortably into his private space. Hye-Dong looks up, all smooth skin and candy smiles: “Hi.”
Ji-Hoon promptly spills his drink.
o2; The Failure (to Communicate)
Ji-Hoon probably dances like a wooden stick, and would rather prefer to watch Hye-Dong writhe on the floor; Hye-Dong knows this because he’s asked Ji-Hoon to join him on the dance floor fifteen times (in ten minutes, it would be the sixteenth try! But Hye-Dong is nothing if not optimistic), and he has been rejected exactly fifteen times.
So Hye-Dong gives up the dance floor and instead gyrates his body to the music and looks at Ji-Hoon through dark slanted eyes, taking care to bump his hips against the other man’s.
o3; The Introduction
Half an hour since he’s been in the club, twenty minutes since Hye-Dong placed himself next to him and nineteen minutes since his last spilt drink (which he managed to salvage, kind of), Ji-Hoon waves for the bartender again.
“Gin, dry.”
And he turns to Hye-Dong, who has been alternating between bouts of pouting and looking so incredibly sexy it makes Ji-Hoon’s head hurt just to think about it. “Can I get you a drink?”
Hye-Dong says something (Ji-Hoon knows this because he can see Hye-Dong’s lips move, not that he was staring at those lips, but Hye-Dong has the prettiest lips he has ever seen, not like he’s paying attention to them of course) and Ji-Hoon leans in closer. Hye-Dong reaches up and curls a cool hand around his ear and whispers something. Ji-Hoon pulls back and motions for the bartender again. “Make that gin a double.”
(What Hye-Dong really says is, “Can I just have you instead?”)
o4; Hitting It Off (or Not)
It is, as Hye-Dong finds out, hard to flirt in a club.
Talking was out of the question, shouting was embarrassing and whispering was just plain stupid. Instead, Hye-Dong nurses his drink (and sore ego, after being rejected for the twentieth time) and wonders if there might be some huge spider on his face that no one else can see except Ji-Hoon.
Somewhere between feeling sorry for him and drawing wet frowning faces in the polished wood, Hye-Dong feels someone lean very close to his ear and the warm breath ghosting his skin pulls a small smile from his lips.
Sorry, I can’t dance.
o5; Getting to Know You
Ji-Hoon realizes (after the twenty-first rejection) that he did not know Hye-Dong’s name. Not his age, or his occupation, or what makes his lips curve the way they do.
So he leans in (as close as he can without feeling like a rapist) and asks exactly that (what’s your name?) and not what he actually wanted to ask (can I take you for a drive?), nor what he hopes to ask (will you come back with me tonight?). He’s rewarded by Hye-Dong’s slow curving smile and his name pronounced in clear syllables, wet fingers tracing the hangul on his palm – the sensation makes blood rush to his groin and he clears his throat as discreetly as he can.
“I’m Ji-Hoon,” he replies and his brain applauds his ability to make such a simple introduction sound so incredibly stupid and brainless.
o6; An (Important) Introduction
Hye-Dong contemplates pulling Ji-Hoon into the back of the nearest room, but is interrupted in his reverie by Ji-Hoon, who smirks at him with lazy eyes and asks, “Do you want to take a drive somewhere?”
(He doesn’t need to be asked twice.)
Ji-Hoon’s car is as flashy as he is; all sleek black metal and cool luscious leather that creeps up his legs. There is a mini ivory-coloured ashtray by the gear stick and the CD player booms out the latest songs from YG Family (What, no Se7en?, laughs Hye-Dong) while they whiz down Gangnam-gu with the windows down and the music way too loud for a 3am morning.
Hye-Dong thinks this might just be better than being in a club.
o7; Exchange of Interests
Somewhere between the highway and Hye-Dong sliding a hand up his thigh, Ji-Hoon stops the car and Hye-Dong doesn’t waste any time before climbing onto his lap, pale hands tugging on his tie and his shirt, while Ji-Hoon reaches down and pulls the lever to push his chair back.
Hye-Dong is wearing a tank top with a wire mesh and his pants have so many layers to them, Ji-Hoon feels like cutting them off in frustration. Instead, he runs a hand up Hye-Dong’s thigh, over cloth and skin. Hye-Dong smiles (all candy and liquid sex) at him before grinding down, pants and chains and all. The sensation makes all the blood rush from his head right down to his groin, and Ji-Hoon feels groggy for a moment before his hands disappear into Hye-Dong’s pants.
Their kiss is messy, all hot wet mouths and awkward hands that curve over Ji-Hoon’s jaw.
o8; Getting Some (If You’re Feeling Lucky)
Somehow, they make it back to Ji-Hoon’s apartment without losing any of their clothes (not like losing clothes is a bad thing, thinks Hye-Dong) and Ji-Hoon even remembers to lock the car, with Hye-Dong pressed up against him, tongue in his ear.
(They make it as far as the front door, with Ji-Hoon’s hands in Hye-Dong’s pants and Hye-Dong with his lips next to Ji-Hoon’s ear.)
o9; Exchanging contacts
Ji-Hoon remembers that the bed sheets had just been changed two days ago when Hye-Dong is on his knees; mouth open and one hand on Ji-Hoon’s cock.
(It’s okay, he thinks abstractly, because sheets can always be changed again.)
It is messy (it always is) and then he flips Hye-Dong over and bends over him, hands pinning him to the bed, and Hye-Dong is staring at him, all dark dark eyes and slow liquid candy smiles. When Hye-Dong is below him, hands gripping the sheets and making those broken noises, Ji-Hoon slides one careful finger in, and occasionally reminds himself to breathe. Hye-Dong is tight in all the right places and when Hye-Dong is riding him, hair plastered to his face, Ji-Hoon thinks that there isn’t a more beautiful sight.
There is a flash of white, and he remembers Hye-Dong arching off the bed and then–
o10; Can I see you again (please)?
In the morning, Hye-Dong wakes up on a bed that is far too large. The windows are far too big as well, because the sunlight is streaming in when it shouldn’t be, because it’s far too early for 10am to happen.
Then he smells the coffee and hears the faint sizzle of the frying pan, so partly out of curiosity and partly out of hunger, he follows the smell down a winding staircase and through a large room filled with a big-screen TV and a couch so big it could probably seat a whole basketball team.
Hye-Dong ends up in the kitchen, with its cool steel counters and two little white mugs filled with a dark liquid that he hopes is coffee. Ji-Hoon is in front of the stove, in his black boxers (or were they Hye-Dong’s?) frying mini French Toasts that look to be slightly too brown for his liking. He offers a mild “Morning” when he sees Hye-Dong sitting on a bar stool, messy blonde hair falling into his eyes, blinking slowly at the coffee.
“My back hurts,” Says Hye-Dong as greeting, and Ji-Hoon narrowly escapes dropping the frying pan on his feet; instead he clears his throat and dumps the (almost burnt) toast onto an empty plate.
Hye-Dong doesn’t leave until the next day.
illustrated by dawninhell
