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newluvrs · 16 days ago

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Sungchan ｡𖦹°‧ mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: for your eyes only - yuragi, back to me - the marias, paul - big thief, software update - yeule, something about us - daft punk word count: 5.9k warnings: angst, fwb!sungchan w/ feelings, unprotected sex

“So… you’ll come?”

The question hangs in the air after it leaves you, a cautious hope at the edges of it. Sungchan’s back is turned to you as he pulls on his shoes. He doesn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’ll try.”

If he were looking at you he would see the way you visibly deflate. With just two words he places you on a ledge. These exchanges as he leaves never feel normal, the interaction looping in your brain.

He looks up from tying his shoes, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he gives you a genuine smile. Automatically you smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You wonder if you should speak up, a warning whispered to him before he takes off. A plea to please show up, just this one time.

He kisses your cheek as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, cradling you before he steps back into reality. If he senses your hesitation, he doesn’t mention it. In the back of your mind you wonder how the two of you look right now. If you looked up the definition of avoidance, you would find a picture of this moment.

Instead you close your eyes, resting your head against his chest as you feel his warmth. Sungchan can’t think of another place he’d rather be than safe in this space, with you. The second he walks out the door, he always thinks of immediately returning. In the back of his mind he makes a note to himself to try and make it back to you tonight. It’s polluted in self-doubt and what-ifs. He sees a horror movie when he closes his eyes; one where he always leaves you hanging, the boyfriend who always lets you down. The defining of a relationship and the disaster that comes after. As quick as the thought comes he closes his eyes, breathing you in. His adversity to change may kill him one day, but hopefully you’ll still be there.

He pulls himself away with a quick kiss to your forehead, the affection bringing a genuine smile to you. You feel like yourself when he looks at you again.

“See you later.”

He says it as he opens your door to leave, and as you wave back at him you hope that it’s true.

Faint echoes of laughter still ring in your skull an hour after your company has left for the night, blurry memories of fairy lights and too much junk food permeating your mind. Instead of the tenderness it should carry, the weight of envy presses down on you. The usual fuzziness that fills your chest after a night with your friends is absent from you.

It’s a lonesome feeling, standing at the edge of your porch waiting for your chronically late guest. The delicate chill of evening air on your skin sobering you as you lean over the railing of your balcony overlooking the rest of your complex. Anxiety clouds your brain and makes it’s way through the rest of your body, adding to the tension in your bones. You don’t like feeling this way; and you hate it even more that it’s because of another. Your far too conscious of yourself and your feelings and the result is a pit in your stomach that longs for a constant that won’t ever come. Like routine you reach a point where your expectations turn from excitement to a voice in your head that screams “he’s not coming.”

It’s louder tonight; and for what it’s worth the voice is right. He didn’t show up when you asked him to, and that realization shreds away at you with only the hollowness in your chest to keep you company.

Hurt turns to anger as footsteps in the distance break your attention away from your thoughts. You don’t spare Sungchan a glance as he approaches you.

“Hey.”

His voice along with the hesitation in his tone rouses a sigh from deep within your chest. He speaks like a child waiting to be scolded.

“You’re late,” You turn your head to him now as he awkwardly kicks his feet, “again.”

His hands are shoved deep in the pockets of the jacket he’s sporting, nerves overtaking him at the tension in your voice. A silent question of where he spent his night lingers on your tongue, along with an excuse lingering on his, but you’ve reached a point where you’ve stopped asking.

“Everyone left awhile ago.”

Sungchan nods his head in acknowledgement, shame rearing it’s head within him. He hates to let you down; but that doesn’t mean he ever stops doing it. You’re silent now, wondering if this is the night you finally talk about it. Cautiously, he makes his way over to where you stand, reaching for your hand. He loops his fingers with yours, a peace-offering. Whether it’s to ease his nerves or to calm you is unknown.

“Can I come in?”

Without a word you pull away from the balcony railing, his hand slipping from your as you open the door for the two of you.

The remnants of your evening are littered all over your apartment. Mario Kart still hooked up to your TV with snacks strewn about. Sungchan feels guilt overcome him for ditching when he sees how much effort you went through to set up a fun night in with your friends. Polaroids from the night are scattered across the table. A fond smile overtakes him at the memorialized moments of you having a good time. He wishes he could bring you the kind of happiness that radiates off you in the photos, instead of the tense version of you he only seems to aggravate these days.

He picks up a polaroid off the table; it’s a picture of you next to the familiar faces of your friends. You look happy, serene. Observing it silently, he only speaks up when he spots someone he doesn’t recognize.

“Who’s this?”

The question is non-confrontational, though you tense a bit when you trace his pointer finger to a blonde male next to you in the photo.

“Some kid named Sion... He’s good friends with Jisung.”

You pluck the photo from his hands, observing it’s contents. You become aware of the beat of your heart when you look at the close proximity between the two of you in the photo.

“He seems nice.”

You purse your lips, nodding slowly to yourself, a soft sigh escaping you at the memory.

“He is..”

Sungchan risks a look at the side of your face when you respond. His heart sinks a bit and his breath catches in his throat at the soft tone you undertake and the tenderness in your eyes. He knows he has no right to be jealous. He feels ridiculous because he doesn’t even know if it’s something he should feel jealous about. He would have had to be there to know. Instead he does what he does best; he deflects.

“I just don’t think they like me.”

He knows it’s not a good excuse. But it is a real fear of his that he’s afraid to come face to face with. For the sole reason it would mean having to confront his own behavior.

“If you were in their shoes, would you like you?”

As soon as the question leaves your mouth, you regret it; a brief revelation of your true emotion towards him bleeding through your words. The look on his face immediately makes you want to take it back. Sungchan’s not even hurt; he just feels caught, like his time is up.

“Um.. I’m sorry.”

You look away from the kicked puppy in front of you, drawing in on yourself at the thought of unintentionally hurting his feelings. Frustration mounts as you both sit there under the heavy weight of silence. You clear your throat before speaking again.

“‘m just a little hurt is all.”

The photos on your coffee table now feel like they’re taunting you; just another reminder of how he wasn’t there when you asked him to be. You think of all the opportunities you squandered in the past just to be near him. All the connections you cut short in exchange for his flighty feelings and half-hearted attempts at building something with you. Your friends do hate him; and it’s embarrassing for you. The lack of commitment a constant reminder of how you don’t respect yourself enough to let him go, and neither does he.

“You just make me feel like there’s moths in my stomach or something. And I don’t think I’m asking for a lot… I just wish you wanted to be with me outside of the confines of my apartment… like showing up to one of my art shows or something”

The steady beat of your heart begins to rise to an uneven flutter within your chest. Sungchan avoiding your eyes as he thinks over what you say. You wait for him to say something; anything. His silence speaks volumes and shame swallows you whole. An ache in your chest at the thought of how long it’s been this way. How long have you been asking for something that he refused to give?

You think back to the early days of your friendship, when everything the other one did made each other blush. How a singular night changed everything from cautious flirtation to affection shared in secret. He’s not your boyfriend; that much was clear. But months of him calling you in the late hours of the night, showing up when you needed comfort in the confines of your apartment, and shared time together spent doing nothing in particular led the boundaries to be so blurred the lines drawn in the sand were practically nonexistent. You just wish you would have known that having someone to be with at night meant trading the friendship that existed with him in daylight.

You ached to hold hands with him as you walked down the street, to share a seat across the table with him at dinner, to have him cling onto you in a public theater. There would be times where you were alone when he would bring a hand to brush against your cheekbone, and you would catch a glimpse of the reality where he did that to you out in public, the shining sun kissing both of you. But just as quick as it came it would be gone, and instead you would be seated with him on your couch, in front of no one; just the company of each other and the cold artificial glow of the television.

“I can’t.”

His voice is small; he speaks towards his lap instead of towards you. Sungchan is too young to handle confrontation, too young to look you in the eyes. And you’re too young to compromise, too young to settle for the affection you receive in private. Your pleas for him to be a mainstay in your public life are bogging him down, and his empty promises have pushed you to a ledge that you’re ready to leap off of. Even if it means letting this go.

With a shaky breath, you lift the deadweight of one of his arms from where he sits, unmoving and drawn in on himself. He does his best to keep his face downturned and away from you as you wrap your arms around his waist. Gently, you rest your cheek on his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat listening to his signs of life. You hold him, silently mulling over the memories of the past 6 months you’ve known each other. Patiently, you wait for Sungchan to come to, a tenderness replacing the resentment that grappled you earlier this evening. It’s a clarity that only comes with the resolution to let go, and the thought sends a pang through your heart. You breathe all of him in, slowly, steadily. Before you can back out, you let 3 careful words spill from your lips.

“I love you.”

Your words are shaky, fingers tightening their grip on the fabric of his tee. You feel his eyes on you now, and its your turn to look away, trying to press yourself so tightly against him in a way that might make you feel less vulnerable. It doesn’t help, heart exposed and laid open for him to see.

“You don’t have to say anything,” It’s murmured into his chest, but he can still hear you. Loud and clear, “You don’t have to say anything at all. I just wanted you to know.”

He brings a hand up to wipe at his cheeks as you intentionally avert your eyes, blinking away tears of your own. Your confession makes him catch on to what’s happening, resting his head on top of yours, the deadweight of his arms now linking tightly around you. For a second time this evening he takes in the surroundings of your apartment. You’re sitting in the same spot on your couch where he kissed you for the first time. The memory is cringey and awkward; a light buzz was running through both of your veins from the aftermath of the night’s activities. Nonsensical topics of conversation flowing and keeping the two of you close, the warmth of the other growing more and more enticing as the time passed. It’s only when you leaned in a little too close, watching his lips with a little too much conviction as he spoke that Sungchan lost focus, sentence cutting short with a hitch in his breath. Misreading the situation he leaned in too soon, closing his eyes too quickly, resulting in an awkward peck to the corner of your mouth. He remembers crumpling at the way you laughed in his face, the blow to his ego painful and embarrassing. He had withdrawn from you like ice water had been poured on him, and before the apologies could start flowing from his mouth he felt your gentle hands on the side of his cheek and the warmth of your lips pressed against his jaw. His heart had seized, relief at the returned affection, but also so much terror at the possibilities. You had spent the rest of the night lip locked; breathless with too many kisses and grossly eager to destroy the previous boundaries of your friendship.

Sungchan yearns so terribly for those gentle beginnings; a time before things got rough for the two of you and he found himself falling short of what you so desperately wanted him to be. The feeling of you trembling in his embrace grounds him back to this present moment. The preciousness of it made obvious to him at the uncertainty of what lies after this. He doesn’t know about tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter because he’s here with you now.

He takes a breath like he’s trying make the air reach the bottom of his lungs, holding you tighter as he pulls himself together for the both of you. With shaky hands, he cradles your face in his palms, your vulnerability on full display with your tear-stained cheeks. Like the first time, he presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. It shakes a gentle laugh from you and Sungchan smiles back at you, cheeks pink and raw from his own tears.

He looks at you like his heart is completely on display, taking in every detail of your face, a hand coming up to brush against your lips. He holds you there for a moment, keeping you still. The tension of the room is gradually shifting, your hands slipping from holding onto his shirt to now pressing against the planes of his chest. In the silence of the room you can hear your heartbeat, the moment made more intense with feeling his own under your fingertips. Slowly, your hands begin to drift, dragging down, down, down, with a steady press. You feel the ways in which his body begins to react with yours, a steady pant beginning to leave him as his hand still lingers on your jaw.

He leans in closer then, Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes growing heavier as he glances away from your eyes to your lips. He holds you still when his lips finally brush against yours, teasingly slow and painfully delicate. You feel his fingers move from cradling your jaw to cupping the back of your neck and you shiver from sensitivity, hyper aware of the feeling. A brush against the most tender part of your neck causing you to let out a quiet moan into his mouth. He nips at your bottom lip, just a light press of pain and your mouth opens for him. But instead of falling deeper he pulls back, pushing away the hair that’s fallen into his eyes. Abruptly with no warning he stands, pulling the two of you up from where you sit on the couch. Without being prompted you immediately lead the way, tugging his hand down your hall as you try and calm the growing heat on your cheeks.

You shut the door to your bedroom despite being the only 2 people in your apartment, the intimacy reserved for behind closed doors. It never matters where it is that you start, despite desire and desperation clouding your brain, the two of you always wait until you are tucked away in the safety of your room. He stands at the edge of your bed bathed in the dim light of your bedside lamp, fully observing you now from head to toe as you make your way towards him.

His fingers slip into the beltloops of your jeans, pressing his steady body firmly against yours. He leans down, soft lips kissing at your neck as your hands slip into his hair. The feeling of his hot tongue licking against the column of your throat makes you gasp, lightly tugging at his hair as you try to coax him further into you. When his teeth sink into the soft skin, you give a harsh pull that causes him to moan out, grinding his hips against yours.

Your hands slip from his hair to the bottom hem of your shirt, but before you can pull it off he stops you.

“Let me.”

His voice a hypnotic murmur as you nod your head, dazed as you let him guide you to face towards your bed. He stands behind you, tilting your head to the side for easy access to leave hot kisses against your neck. You feel his fingertips brushing under your shirt, pushing up under the baggy fabric to rest on your hips, squeezing you there as you feel him lightly grind against your ass. The dull ache between your thighs is getting increasingly more difficult to ignore, dictating the way you begin to push back against him. The groan he lets out against your ear leaves you weak in the knees, the wetness in your underwear made obvious to you.

His position behind you makes it easy for him to pull you apart, hands slipping from your hips to grab at your plush chest. He gropes at you from beneath the cups of your bra, rolling your nipples between his fingers with an occasional pinch to hear you whine. The soft gasps that leave you make you feel dizzy, the way you need to rest your body against his fueling his ego. He draws a steady line from the valley of your breasts down your stomach, slipping into your jeans to cup you over your underwear.

“You’re so warm here.”

“It might help if you take my clothes off.”

He can’t help but chuckle at your annoyance, deft fingers slipping your panties to the side in the process. It takes him no time to slide them through the wetness, already rubbing circles against your clit. The pressure makes you arch back against him, letting out a whimper in the process.

“Hm? What was that?”

You turn your head to look at his smug smile, doing your best to shoot him a glare. He can’t help but think you couldn’t look less threatening even if you tried, too angelic under the dim light. He kisses the pout on your lips, making it up to you by zeroing in on your pleasure as he plays with your clit. It’s starting to become increasingly difficult to kiss him back, falling deeper into him with every slide of his fingers. He’s quick to sense this, having mercy on you as he gently pulls his hands away from you, turning you to face him.

You raise your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head, the fabric thrown haphazardly on the floor with your bra quickly following. He presses lightly on your shoulder to ease you to lean back then, just far away enough from him to really look at you. When you meet his eyes a hole burns through you at the adoration evident on his face. Sungchan always made sure to let you know how beautiful he thought you were, no matter how much you shied away.

When you subconsciously bring your hands up to cover your chest he halts your movements, guiding them instead to lift his own shirt so you can be equals. Without his shirt on your hands become greedy, pressing against the firmness of his abs and nails dragging along his sides. The stimulation makes him shiver, aching in his jeans at the way you touch him. He eases you to lay down against your sheets now, fingers already dragging your jeans down along with your underwear before your back even hits the mattress.

Your legs part for him as he kisses his way down your body, leaving bites in his wake. The cool air against you makes you conscious of how wet you are, but before you can have a moment of embarrassment Sungchan is already biting at your inner thighs. The first press of his tongue against you is immediate hot pleasure. It comes with a gentle open-mouthed kiss to your clit as you resist the urge to shut your eyes.

You look down between your legs, intent on watching him as he goes down on you. The scene before you is pure sin, Sungchan lapping at you with closed eyes, moaning at your taste, lost to the feeling. His lips shine obscenely with your wetness and when you buck your hips up to chase your pleasure, he hooks his arms around your legs to pull himself deeper into you. It feels like there’s not enough air in your lungs, the room growing stuffy as you succumb to the sensation of his mouth against your most tender part.

When he pulls away its to watch his own fingers dragging through the mess of his spit combined with your slick. He flicks his eyes up to you only when he begins to ease two fingers into you, leaning down to press another kiss to your clit as he watches your expression with hooded eyes. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up as he drags them in and out of you shallowly, letting you adjust to the feeling. You feel your mind go numb when he starts moving them with more purpose, stroking at the soft parts inside of you.

The sounds you let out send his head spinning, driven by the sole purpose of making you feel as good as he can. Subconsciously he grinds against the bed as he watches you unravel for him, his hardness nearly impossible for him to ignore anymore. He’s gone from pressing the occasional kiss as he fingers you to full on making out with your clit, trying to drink up as much of your taste as he can.

He can feel as you become close, your grip tightening around his fingers and less control over your body causing you to writhe at the overwhelmingness of it all. He slows down then, forcing himself to pull his mouth off you as he steadily halts the press of his fingers. As he reaches for the button of his jeans impatiently you sit up, helping him to kick them off his body along with his boxers.

Your skin is hot to the touch as you move further up the bed, staring up at your bedroom ceiling as you wait for him to join you. You can’t help but press your thighs together as you wait, seeking to relieve the pure need between them. Your pulse is still elevated, skin buzzing in the places where Sungchan has touched. The weight shifts on the bed as he climbs on top of you, parting your legs as he settles between them and greets you with a kiss.

The taste of you still lingers on his tongue and the realization feels crude, especially when he pulls away and you get a look at his face. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, lips glistening and pouty from use, eyes dilated and hair mussed; he looks positively ruined. His saving grace being the halo of light around him that emanates from your bedside lamp casting a false air of innocence.

“You look so dirty.”

The words are spoken with a smile on your face, satisfied by your combined handy work.

“Yeah?”

He feels pleased by your comment, your subtle way of telling him he’s doing a good job. The possessive part of him also feels like you’ve left your mark on him, one that only he gets to see; ruining him as he meticulously pulls you apart.

The blunt head of his cock runs through your wetness, sliding up and down as he coats himself in you. Each brush over your clit making you squirm as you try and be patient, focusing on keeping your breathing steady. He looks to you as he sets the tip at your entrance, keeping himself deathly still until you nod your head in confirmation.

With a gentle nod of your head he’s easing himself into you, only pressing in slightly before pulling out. From your first time together to now Sungchan will always take his time with this part, the need to have you be comfortable overpowering any desire of his. So he sinks into you, slowly, listening to every change of your breath and physically feeling every squeeze of your pussy as it adjusts to his size. You know he purely does it out of concern for you, but the eroticism is not lost on you. The look of concentration on his face as he watches where the two of you meet, brow furrowed, his tongue poking at his cheek as he focuses. It just makes you get soaked, helping him to ease himself in further.

When his hips are finally pressed flush to yours, he rests his forehead against your shoulder, eyes closed as he revels in the feeling of being fully sheathed in your wet warmth. You run your fingers through his hair while he rests, scratching at his scalp as you both catch your breath, adjusting to the other. It’s gradually becoming more difficult for you to stay still now, thoughts occupied with the need to feel him.

You close your own eyes to try and focus on being still, but your body betrays you. Hips grinding down on him ever so slightly, just enough to make a whimper escape from your throat. You feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder, his hands coming to rub at your sides to soothe you. All it does is rile you up further as you huff and puff beneath him.

The soothing rub of his hands becomes a solid grip on your waist as he sits up, the change in his posture causing him to push just that much deeper into you. You’re the one who looks like the mess now, impatience evident as you drip around him. Sungchan takes pity on you, easing himself fully out of you before giving a cautious push back in. The subtle arch of your back against the sheets all but confirming your need for more.

A soft sigh leaves your mouth as he begins with a slow pace, just a steady push and pull. The roll of his hips into yours feels just right, making your fingers curl into the sheets as your voice catches in your throat. The touch of Sungchan’s hands against your body as he moves in and out of you are painfully intimate. One large hand moving from it’s grip on your waist to splay over your stomach instead. It makes you feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

“Look at me baby.”

You hadn’t even noticed your eyes slip close until you hear Sungchan’s gentle voice in your ear. When your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the sight of his pretty face with his hair falling into his eyes.

“There she is.”

Overwhelmed by the gentle look in his eyes, you tilt your head back, temporarily shielding yourself from his watchful gaze to catch a breath. The reprieve is only temporary, the feeling of his cock pressing and rubbing against a sensitive spot within you making you cling to him like he’s your lifeline. Your sounds change from quiet gasps to dulcet moans, the sweetness of them fueling Sungchan’s movements.

His mind feels hazy, thoughts of how you feel wrapped around him making it hard to breathe. He can feel that he’s losing himself more and more with each squeeze of your cunt, especially when his senses are flooded with how you sound so desperate. His hand that was on your stomach is placed on your clit, rubbing in skilled circles with his thumb. When your hips roll up into his, chasing your own pleasure, he nearly falls forward.

His movements start to grow sloppy as the two of you near your release. The hand not on your clit has a firm grip on your hip, helping to guide the rolls of your hips against his. When whimpers start to leave him between his groans, you know he’s close. Your legs that had been at his sides move to wrap loosely around his waist, trying to feel him as deep as possible. The resulting feeling sends a burning heat straight through you.

You cum around him with a cry of his name, pulling at the sheets as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high. The way you clench around him makes him follow close behind, slipping out of you before cumming on your tummy. He collapses forward then, kissing at the exposed skin of your chest as you both pant, trying to catch your breath. A dull ache begins in your joints as you lazily run your fingers through his hair, coming down from your high. The haze begins to clear from your mind at the slight pain in your legs, the feeling sobering you to your reality.

The silence that follows is painful; a stark contrast to the usual lively energy between the two of you. It feels like a punctuation mark; like the final period in the story about the two of you. Both of your breaths are shallow, anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s Sungchan who moves first, he feels petrified and like his whole body is seized up and refuses to work with him. When he moves to pull himself up from you, you cling to him tighter, acting before you can think as a panic rises within you.

“Please.”

You’re not sure why you said it, or what you specifically meant by it, but regardless Sungchan understands. He cradles you close, adjusting your position so its you against his chest with a kiss to the top of your head.

“’m not going anywhere.”

And he means it. He wouldn’t go anywhere unless you asked him to. You recognize that the phrase has a time restriction, and that when the sun rises it won’t apply anymore. So you let him clean the two of you up, delicate hands wiping away the mess before slipping your clothes on. As he pulls the comforter over the two of you and shuts off your bedside lamp, you pray that this night lasts longer than the others. You drift off with a hope that maybe the sun will take just a little longer to come and wake the world.

Sungchan lies awake for hours after you doze off, staring into the dark of your room. He wishes he would have left the light on, just so he could watch you for a little longer. Instead he contemplates his time spent with you, doing his best not to linger on the mistakes he’s made. He wishes he would have fessed up sooner how he had felt about you. But he’s grateful for the time you spent when you were just friends. He wants so badly to be what you want him to be, but he knows he can’t give that to you right now, and he would sooner die than ever ask you to wait for him. When the sunlight starts to spill through the cracks in your curtains it’s a blessing and a curse. He knows his time is up, but now he can see the ways in which he’s made his way into your home and into your life. He sees gifts he’s given to you on your shelves, notes he’s written you pasted to your mirror, pictures of the two of you hung up along string lights.

His heart aches when he finally slips out from under you, silently dressing as he takes glances at your still sleeping face. He lingers for way to long by your bedside once he’s finally ready to go, shadows creeping over him with the changing light. The only thing that gets him to move is the idea that you deserve better, and he truly believes it.

Before he leaves, he thinks about something you had said earlier in the evening. A confession that had made his heart stop in its tracks at the sincerity in your words. Without hesitating, he rips a scrap of paper from the open notebook that sits on your desk. With a borrowed pen he leaves a message that he knows you won’t see for at least a few more hours. When he finally turns to leave, it’s on unsteady legs, and with one more glance of longing behind him, he leaves the comfort of your bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Hours later you wake with a jolt and the feeling that something is missing. You shrink at the sight of the sun, and with bleary eyes you search the empty space of your bedroom.

He’s already gone.

The realization comes with a crack in your chest that spills all the light from within you. Before you cave in on yourself, you spot a scrap of white paper on his pillow. You pluck it from where it rests, forcefully rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Only 4 words are messily scrawled onto the scrap of paper and your heart sinks and soars at the same time.

“i love you too – jsc”

With an ache in your chest you hope that maybe one day he’ll find his way back to you.

#srb .. !#I enjoy seeing ur reactions so bad :’-)))

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