sujuexchange (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sujuexchange) wrote2012-12-01 09:30 pm
sujuexchange) wrote2012-12-01 09:30 pm
Entry tags:
Crack me open, hold me close (Siwon/Sungmin, R) for emo_what97
Title: crack me open, hold me close
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
static_abyss
Recipient:emo_what97
Characters/Pairings: Siwon/Sungmin
Rating: r
Genre(s): college/rock band au
Warnings: some homophobia, cursing, bottom Siwon just in case that's a thing for anyone
Author's Note:If this fic was a movie, I don't care by Fall Out Boy would play in the opening credits. Also, I swear I didn't use ALL of the prompts, but thanks to emo_what97 because all the prompts were amazing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and happy holidays.
The first song Sungmin writes is about a boy who kissed another boy and died for it. He writes about fists and blood, about anger and regret. When Sungmin performs on stage for the first time, he paints his skin with the letters of his song, deep black marks along his pale skin that speak for him even before he goes on stage. He's the living embodiment of his music, hair wild and black, his eyes lined with kohl, voice too high until he controls it, lowers it to the right pitch. Sungmin's hands know how to move on his electric guitar. He knows how to sing so that his words drag over skin, so that the audience feels it, a living thing on them, all over them. Sungmin knows how to hurt the crowd.
Sungmin knows because he is a boy who loved a boy and died for it.
-
At times, when the band is resting between gigs, Sungmin will think about the first boy he kissed. It happened when he was in high school. He was old enough to let his rebellion get the better of him so that Sungmin wasn't afraid to return the heated glances. No one knew when Sungmin started seeing the other boy. They never told anyone, not even Sungmin's friends. They were good at it, hiding out behind buildings, sneaking around in parking lots.
When Sungmin remembers exact moments, he writes songs about them. It's easy to write when he remembers, to just put down on paper the feeling. Wet kisses and shuddering bodies make for good music, and Sungmin is good enough that he can sell it. His band is good enough that they can play it the right way, drag notes that Sungmin can sing to. Sungmin doesn't let himself think beyond the first kisses, the fucks in the backseat of his boy's car. It's not good to think of anything beyond that because Sungmin doesn't want to remember what happened after.
Sometimes, he thinks that if he did, his music would be enough to get him longer contracts, maybe a tour around South Korea. He'd be able to drop college.
But Sungmin isn't ready to write about the night his parents killed him, the night his parents found him on his knees, sucking a boy's cock, his boy's cock. It's better if Sungmin doesn't think about that, because then he starts to remember that he left behind a brother with parents who will poison him.
So Sungmin doesn't think about that. He writes lyrics about boys who like boys, and because he has no label to hold him back, he can. The funny thing is, people actually listen. Not just girls, but men too, men with tattoos on their arms, broad shouldered men, good looking men. Sungmin thinks that not all of them actually fuck other men, thinks that some of them have girls and just want to listen to something good, something real.
Sungmin lives off his music, the gigs at clubs. He lives off cereal and milk, rice, sometimes real meals when he gets more than one show in a row. Sungmin deals because he has music and himself, because he doesn't stick too close to the members of his band. He deals because if he lets no one else in, then no one else will hurt him.
Sungmin writes about that too, about hurt, about a boy who loved a boy who betrayed him—but never how. He writes and he lives. And for the moment, that's all that matters.
Until it isn't.
-
Siwon is a good boy. Sungmin knows because he sees the way Siwon tucks his shirt into his pants, how eyes fill with admiration whenever Siwon walks by. Sungmin notices Siwon because Siwon won't stop looking at him during their World's Religions class, the class Sungmin takes because he wants an answer, not because he wants to laugh. He's done laughing. Sungmin wants to know if he can be who he is and still believe in a god. He's not like Heechul who sits in front of the class and makes snide remarks whenever their professor mentions that science and religion can coexist.
But, Siwon. Siwon listens and that's why Sungmin notices him. Because Siwon never looks away from the professor, always leans a little too forward whenever there's something interesting. So it's easy for Sungmin to notice when Siwon stops paying attention. It starts with just a quick once over, Siwon's right eyebrow going up as he regards Sungmin. Sungmin ignores it because he knows what the people in the college say. He writes off Siwon's looks as assessments to see if Sungmin really looks the part of a cock sucking slut.
But Siwon doesn't stop.
It goes on for days, looks that get under Sungmin's skin so that he thinks they can't just be Siwon being curious anymore. It starts an itch under Sungmin's skin, nervous energy that makes him play his guitar loud and obnoxious in his apartment until his roommate leaves. Then Sungmin is alone, fingers tapping along the edge of his electric guitar, done playing notes.
He knows what he looks like, small bow shaped lips, perfect for sucking. It's what the people in his classes think, what they tell others. It's how Sungmin's band became so popular. People came, first, because they wanted to see if Sungmin would do them any favors, then because Sungmin's band was good, his lyrics were good. But the rumors never go away, not even when Sungmin hasn't done anything to encourage them. He keeps to himself, quiet and away from the others as much as he can. He takes his classes, studies in the library, keeps his head in his books, writing, reading. He practices his guitar, his singing and people still talk. There are twenty different people who swear Sungmin let them fuck him.
Sungmin knows he has the face that screams I'll let you fuck me. His eyes are too big, too wide, skin too pale, easy to bruise. His face is too feminine, sharp male edges softened by his mannerisms, things Sungmin wasn't able to shake off completely, no matter how hard he tried. He tilts his head too much to the side so that he comes off as submissive even when he knows he's the farthest thing from that. His face ruins the body he built, muscles invisible because his face is the first thing anyone sees. He's too soft, his smiles too cute. So, yeah, Sungmin can see why people would believe that he lets other's fuck him.
It never mattered though, because people could say whatever the fuck they wanted, but Sungmin never put out. They never got what they wanted because that isn't who Sungmin is. And in the beginning, as long as they kept talking, people would keep coming to his gigs. Until the words and rumors just didn't bother Sungmin anymore, until his band was good enough that whatever people thought didn't matter because Sungmin had his band, had his gigs, had his freedom. So, Sungmin doesn't understand why the words should matter now.
"They don't," he tells his empty room.
And when he finally puts his guitar down and crawls into bed, he believes them.
Except, the morning after, Siwon sits next to Sungmin.
"Can I help you," Sungmin asks before he can stop himself. He should have walked then, should have known that if he couldn't control himself with Siwon when they didn't know each other, then there would be no way that Sungmin could control himself once they did. He was distracted, he'll tell himself later, but he'll never admit by what.
"Hi," Siwon smiles, dimples so deep they fascinate Sungmin. "My name's Siwon."
He holds out a hand and Sungmin just stares at the manicured nails, the large all-encompassing hand. Sungmin thinks his hand is just as big if not wider, but he says nothing. It takes Sungmin a second to extend his hand, not because he's afraid, but because he doesn't understand. No one but Heechul will even talk to Sungmin, and Heechul stopped that once Sungmin told him he wasn't interested in being Heechul's experiment. But that's Heechul, ripped jeans and no fucks given. This is Siwon, clean cut, well-dressed, name brand jacket, and with a crucifix hanging around his neck.
"Hello," Sungmin answers, eyes raking over Siwon. "I'm Sungmin."
Sungmin sees a boy when Siwon grins, brown eyes that are a shade away from being dark. It's a boy in a man's body, muscles visible through Siwon's light blue button down, down the slope of his shoulder so that they hint at more on Siwon's back. Siwon's handshake is firm, but his hand is soft the way rich people's hands are. He's tall. Sungmin knows because he's seen Siwon standing, but also because Siwon's knees reach out further from underneath the desk than Sungmin's do, and because Siwon's shoulders are higher than Sungmin's are. Even when Sungmin straightens up like Siwon is doing, his shoulders can't quite reach Siwon's.
"Nice to meet you, Sungmin. I was wondering if I could ask you for an autograph. I have your band's CD."
It's a man's voice, deep and rolling off in waves towards Sungmin. But there's a hint of excitement underneath, a tint to the manners that scream innocence.
"How old are you," Sungmin asks.
Siwon frowns just a bit, his eyebrows coming too close together. Sungmin wants to laugh because even if Siwon's eyes and mouth don't give him away, his eyebrows do.
"Twenty. How about you?"
Sungmin waits for the joke, but it never comes. A boy. That's who's sitting next to him and asking for autographs, a boy who probably still lives with his parents. Sungmin grins, because he could eat this boy alive.
"I can give you an autograph," Sungmin tells him.
There's a brief flash of surprise on Siwon's face, and then he's smiling. "Thank you," he says.
They go back to listening to their professor, but when Siwon passes over his copy of Sungmin's only CD to date, Sungmin signs it. He considers getting his band members to sign it, but he doesn't know where they go when there are no gigs. He pauses once he's signed. His signature is standard, first letter of his name followed by lines and slopes. There's something missing though, not from his signature, but from the cover of the CD.
He picks up his marker again, jots down underneath his signature: p.s. I'm twenty-four.
Sungmin tells himself he does it only because it's polite since Siwon asked.
-
Sungmin can't stop thinking about Siwon. It's not the CD or the fact that Siwon is the type of good looking that Sungmin used to get off to in high school, the kind of guy that Sungmin liked to get off to in the years before he realized he needed a college education.
It's about how Siwon still sits next to Sungmin in their Religions class even when Sungmin's already signed the CD. It's about how Siwon will always ask how Sungmin's morning was and whether he's going to lunch afterwards. Sometimes Sungmin will wait for Siwon and they'll go to lunch together. Sungmin will get lost in Siwon's talk, answer questions before he can stop himself.
"Do you have any siblings?"
"A brother."
"Oh, I'm an only child."
Sometimes, they're not questions, but statements that leave Sungmin wishing he'd never agreed to have lunch with Siwon.
"They're staring at you again."
Sungmin shrugs. "I know," he answers.
Because he does, Sungmin knows. He can feel people's eyes on the back of his neck whenever he comes into the cafeteria. But, it doesn’t matter because all these people still come to his gigs and watch him dressed in skin tight jeans, body ruined under words and memories. They talk, but they talk about him, and he doesn't care what they think because they are the reason Sungmin has money, that Sungmin can afford the little apartment on the outskirts of Seoul and put himself through college. They're the reason that Sungmin doesn't have to go back to his parent's house.
But thoughts like that are dangerous, too close to what Sungmin doesn't want to remember. Someone—his first and only psychologist, probably—once told him that it's not healthy to push away the bad memories because then Sungmin wouldn't ever get over them. But, fuck that, because Sungmin is free and he decides what he wants and doesn’t want. Or he did, before Siwon.
Now that they eat lunch together, that Siwon will sit next to Sungmin in class, that Sungmin might have the closest thing to a friend he's had since high school—now it's harder to push the thoughts away.
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Siwon says a few lunches later, right after a boy leers in Sungmin's direction. Sungmin flinches when he hears Siwon say it, but he looks up and Siwon has this fond look in his eyes, right above that genuine smile Sungmin has come to recognize.
It's as close to acknowledging the rumors about Sungmin that he and Siwon have ever gotten. They have an unspoken agreement where Siwon doesn't say that he knows about the rumors, and Sungmin doesn't have to say they're not true. But Sungmin knows Siwon thinks about it, his comments give him away, the way Siwon will press a little closer to Sungmin whenever a leering boy gets too close.
Siwon doesn't look like he's waiting for an answer. He shouldn't be because Sungmin has never answered him comments like this before. When Sungmin looks up, Siwon is unwrapping the lunch his mother makes the maid send. It's getting so easy to just let Siwon care, to let Siwon fix what isn't really broken. One day soon, Sungmin can already see it, he's going to just let Siwon worm his way inside, so far that Sungmin won't be able to get him out.
If it's going to happen, Sungmin tells himself, he may as well be in control of when it's going to happen.
"No," Sungmin answers dropping his eyes back to his food. "I’m stronger than other people give me credit for."
He knows he's shocked Siwon because there's no answer right away. Sungmin doesn’t look up, chooses to pick up a spoonful of rice and eat that while he waits. The left leg of his pants tugs against his knee when Sungmin tucks his leg under his chair and away from Siwon. Sungmin knows what people say about him, what Siwon must have heard, about how much Sungmin likes to suck cock, about how he'll do it for a smoke. It makes him feel tainted with Siwon so close, as though if Sungmin touches him, he'll dirty Siwon. So, he moves his other leg and waits because people talk and Siwon is still here.
"The things they say," Siwon starts.
"I don't care what they have to say," Sungmin shrugs, leans away.
Siwon studies him, eyebrows furrowed, always so expressive. Sungmin wants to roll his eyes or smile. He's not sure which it is yet.
"They don't know you."
Sungmin nods, "that's why I don't care."
Siwon nods. "All right then," he says. "Then I don't care either."
Sungmin's head snaps up before he gives it permission. But Siwon is smiling, cheeks dimpling, eyes wide. He's always so surprised, as though happiness is still new to him, as though every time Siwon smiles or laughs it's an experience. There's a song there, Sungmin can feel it, about a boy who laughs for the sake of laughing. About how he met a boy who laughs so that the monsters don't win.
-
"What are your parents like," Sungmin asks once.
It should scare Sungmin how easy it is to inquire, as if he's allowed this with Siwon now.
"They're great," Siwon says. "My dad's a reverend and my mom owns a restaurant chain.
"Do they know?"
"Know what?"
Sungmin looks up from his sandwich and over at Siwon. The cafeteria is crowded today, people close enough that their conversation isn't private. Sungmin can see confusion on Siwon's face, as though he doesn't know what Sungmin is asking. As though, everything—the brush of fingers on Sungmin's wrist, the hugs, the looks in class—is unintentional.
"Do your parents know about you liking boys?"
-
Sungmin goes back to his room burning to write. He has words thumping through his head, chords underneath his fingertips. He writes about Siwon's lips, the dimples on his cheeks. Sungmin writes about wanting to fuck a boy with a grown up's body.
About wanting to fuck a straight boy.
-
"I'm sorry I freaked out," Siwon says during their next class.
Sungmin doesn't bother to look up from his cell phone. He's texting his drummer, asking if he can get the band together because Sungmin has songs.
Siwon doesn't say anything else, and Sungmin only looks up once he's sure his band—or the band, really—is going to drop by his place this coming weekend.
"You're allowed to freak out," Sungmin tells Siwon as their professor starts his powerpoint. "You're a closet homosexual."
Siwon blanches, but there's no denial on his face. Sungmin grins because he recognizes that face, has seen it in the mirror when he was seventeen. It wasn't that he didn't know. It was just that no one had ever thrown it in his face the way Sungmin's first boyfriend did. It's funny, Sungmin thinks now, that he can't even remember the guy's name considering how important he used to be to Sungmin.
"It's," Siwon stops, his eyes boring holes into his notebook. "It never happened before, liking people. It's, I think it's you."
Sungmin grins again even though his heart is racing. He eases back into his chair, tries to breathe because this isn't like his first time. He's in control now, older, wiser. Siwon's just a boy. Sungmin knows how to handle boys.
"I'm flexible," he tells Siwon. "I like girls, like boys better, maybe."
"How do you know for sure? How do I know it’s not just you," Siwon asks, and there's an edge to his voice as he tugs on the corner of his notebook. "How did you—how do I tell my parents?"
"You don't have to," Sungmin answers, too quick he knows, because Siwon is raising his eyebrows, confused now. "I didn't."
"Why not?"
Sungmin blows out a breath through his mouth, casts a glance at their professor who's arguing with Heechul. "They wouldn't have understood. They didn't. Kicked me out when they found out."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Sungmin says turning away from Siwon's wide eyes. "Oh."
-
They still have lunch together, until it's not only lunch but dinner too. Their conversations get more personal until Sungmin is telling Siwon things he hasn't told anyone outside of writing them in lyrics. It's direct this way, so much easier than it has any right to be, with Siwon sitting at Sungmin's kitchen table. Sungmin's roommate is gone for the night.
"I can't remember his name," Sungmin tells Siwon as they pick through their take out. "It’s been six years and I tried not to remember."
Siwon nods and Sungmin feels like maybe he can continue.
"I was seventeen and he was the first boy I liked. We fucked, that's all it was, really. We thought we were so smart," Sungmin says, kicks his chair back on two legs and looks at his kitchen ceiling.
There are cracks on the white paint, and Sungmin thinks of the night he was fucked open, left raw on his bed. He'd been on his knees, when his parents came back that night, pushing his boy's hips into the bedroom wall. Sungmin was new at it back then, had been following orders when his mother walked in.
If Sungmin closes his eyes, he can see her, white hairs at her temples, eyes wide when she saw Sungmin. His dad had been furious and Sungmin had sported a black eye for weeks. But he was nothing if not rebellious teenager back then.
"My parents caught us," Sungmin tells Siwon, and he can hear the way Siwon leans forward even as Sungmin stares at the ceiling. "My dad kicked me out, told me if I liked sucking cock so much I could go live with my boyfriend."
Siwon's hand is warm when he takes Sungmin's. Siwon's so fucking earnest in everything he does, the way he just moves into Sungmin's space like he belongs there. He's so sure sometimes it's hard for Sungmin to remember that Siwon's just a boy, just starting to learn how to like boys. It's hard to remember in moments like these when Siwon's face is so close that Sungmin could just lean forward, touch him, taste him.
"I left the house thinking he'd take me," Sungmin whispers, dark eyes searching Siwon's brown ones. "My perfect boyfriend told me he was done with me and that I should get back home. So I went back because I had no money and I wasn't old enough to leave. I stayed for a year until I could leave and then I worked in bars, found a roommate and moved in. I started writing songs because it was easier than thinking about everything. I'm good at singing. It makes me feel good."
"So don't stop," Siwon says, as though it's obvious, as though it's that simple.
Sungmin leans across the table, watches the way Siwon's eyes widen when he gets too close. Siwon doesn't move away though, his other hand even comes up to touch the side of Sungmin's face, up into Sungmin's hair. His hand is so sure, confident like Sungmin's never really been since he was young.
"I have to finish college because I'm not good for long term contracts."
"Why not?"
Sungmin rolls his eyes. "I write about boys fucking boys."
Siwon leans closer so that the table drags along the kitchen tiles. The sound feels like fingers up Sungmin's back.
"What's that like," Siwon whispers.
There's no embarrassment in Siwon, just curiosity. Sungmin looks at him, wants to understand, but can't.
"Good," Sungmin answers, voice catching and dragging.
"I think I really like you," Siwon breathes voice soft and scared. "But I'm not. I don't know what to do. Can you. Will you teach me?"
Siwon swallows and when his eyes go down to Sungmin's mouth, Sungmin can feel it. One of Siwon's hands is still pressing Sungmin's hand down into the table, holding him in place. Siwon's other hand is in Sungmin's hair, his fingers tightening there as though he wants to pull Sungmin in. Strong hands, confident fingers, everything Sungmin wants. It would be so easy to just lean in, to just say yes.
Siwon's still a boy and Sungmin wants, wants so much he's burning with it. He would be so good to this boy, would push him into Sungmin's bed and teach him, show him. Sungmin would be so good to Siwon, would make sure that Siwon isn't scared, that he knows what he wants. Sungmin wants that, wants Siwon to trust him. He wants Siwon to keep that innocence, the kind that Sungmin had before he fell for the wrong guy.
It would be so easy for Sungmin to make Siwon love him. So easy to ruin this boy for anyone else, to mark him. But, he can't. He can't because Sungmin is broken and he doesn't want Siwon to be the one to piece him back together. Siwon deserves better than that. Sungmin just wants to write and live and fuck, and he can't be whom Siwon deserves.
"Go," Sungmin says, snatching his hand back from Siwon.
"What?"
Wide eyes. That's all Siwon ever seems to be, surprised, giving off the illusion that he knows what he's doing but not really knowing at all. It's wrong because Sungmin can't forget that Siwon isn't there to take care of him.
"Go," Sungmin repeats. "Out."
-
Sungmin locks himself in his room for three days, comes out only when he has to eat and then goes back. He writes until his wrist aches with it, until there's ink on his fingers, words on the papers on Sungmin's desk. He plays his guitar, rips sounds from it. He can already see what he'll look like onstage, bleeding, fucked raw, the way he's never let himself be. Every word feels like he's ripping himself apart, but Sungmin goes with it. He goes with it because he can see a boy with wide eyes at the end of it, and Sungmin wants.
Sungmin always wants.
-
On the fourth day, Sungmin lets the band in and they practice.
On the fifth, he finally goes back to class.
-
"I'm sorry," Siwon says when Sungmin finds him in class the next day. "For not asking if it was okay."
"It's not you," Sungmin tells him, smiles even, because he hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time. "I needed to write."
"A new song," Siwon asks, and he's eager now, always so fucking eager.
"Yeah," Sungmin nods. "A song. About you."
Siwon doesn't say anything, but Sungmin sees the hope. Sungmin takes a deep breath, catches the cologne Siwon is wearing. It's nothing new, but it feels new because Sungmin feels new.
"Hey," he says leaning over onto Siwon's desk. "Want to get coffee with me later?"
He can't make it more of an invitation, but Siwon gets it because he smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks.
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay."
-
Sungmin doesn't fall in love because it's clichéd, even though love makes for perfect lyrics.
Sungmin just finds that dating Siwon is too easy and too much like physics all at once. One moment everything makes sense, the next it's all fucked up so that Sungmin can't tell what's up and what's down. Siwon at his door every morning at eight on the dot is endearing at first because Sungmin will invite him in and Siwon will give him the coffee he brought. They'll sit in Sungmin's room, on his bed and drink, neither looking at each other, but talking just the same.
There are no kisses the first few times that happens, not even on their third date. Siwon dresses up for all the dates, dark pants and tucked in button downs that make Sungmin dress up in return. He's back to wearing jeans and his own button downs, and he stops worrying about how the shirts are too bright, too tight on his shoulders. He's distracted, Sungmin supposes, by the way Siwon's own shirts fit. There are muscles underneath Siwon's clothes, thighs that Sungmin wants to dig his fingers into.
But, there's no kissing and Sungmin thinks it's because Siwon is trying to be a gentleman. Sungmin lets it happen because it makes something warm burn in his face whenever Siwon says good night but doesn't kiss him. It's so easy, like air filling Sungmin's lungs, a stretch against his rib cage every time Siwon entwines their hands underneath their desk during class.
And Sungmin is still asking himself why he's doing this two weeks into their dating. They're getting so domestic now, cereal boxes open on Sungmin's coffee table, while Siwon reads the newspaper on the couch next to him. Sungmin has a book open on his lap, something with theories about how Shakespeare's lover was a man. It's uninteresting like nothing else in Sungmin's life, but reading next to Siwon seems right. There's even a list of groceries to buy next to the empty cereal boxes.
"I think my roommate left me," Sungmin comments after he finishes the chapter on homoeroticism in Romeo and Juliet.
"His loss," Siwon says, but his eyes are still scanning his newspaper, brow furrowed.
Sungmin moves before he thinks it through, ends up in Siwon's lap, the newspaper under Sungmin's knees. They waited too long because Siwon kisses back as though he's breathing Sungmin in, mouth hot and incessant.
It happens often after that, when Sungmin least expects it. He’ll be in his room jotting things down and Siwon will be there, pressing Sungmin against the desk and kissing him. After a band practice, when Sungmin's voice is hoarse, he'll end up pressing Siwon into the sheets, kissing until their lips are numb. It's just kissing, but each time feels like something new to Sungmin, like letting go. Breathing free, so that it doesn't hurt anymore when Sungmin thinks of his brother or his parents.
Siwon's beautiful and innocent, so sure of himself, so polite when he doesn’t have to be. Sungmin likes to kiss him best when Siwon is watching the news, or pulling Sungmin's chair out for him. Sungmin likes to remind Siwon that he won't break, that Siwon's allowed to take too.
So, in terms of lyrics, Sungmin is getting a lot done these days.
But it's not just Siwon. It's the music, the new gigs at darkened clubs. It starts with Siwon and expands beyond that, into everything. Nothing feels heavy anymore and it gets harder to write songs, but that's a good thing. It just means that Sungmin stops writing about betrayal and writes about liberation instead.
-
When they fuck, because that happens eventually, Sungmin writes about it. He writes about Siwon's calloused hands against Sungmin's sides, the way Siwon's back arches off the bed when Sungmin fucks him open with his fingers. Sungmin wants to try it the other way, with him on his back and Siwon pushing into him, wants to feel those muscles moving against him, working to press Sungmin into the bed.
But it's not what they need now. Now, Sungmin needs to be in control, needs to know that Siwon trusts him enough for that, needs to coax Siwon into it, to teach him.
Sungmin is good at it, at pushing in, gasping through the tight heat of Siwon. And when they fuck, it's not really fucking anymore, but Sungmin doesn't know what else to call it. Siwon makes beautiful noises when Sungmin splits him open, rocks his hips into motion of Siwon's body. Siwon's name tastes like release on Sungmin's tongue.
When they come, Siwon first, they lie there next to each other. Sungmin likes the way his name sounds coming from Siwon. He likes it so much it hurts, a scratch in his throat that makes it difficult to swallow. He tucks his face into Siwon's neck, feels Siwon move to pull them close together. Of course, Siwon likes to hug. Nothing about Siwon surprises Sungmin anymore. He's glad for it, the bit of constant in his life, and he lies there, eyes closed. The best he can hope for is that this last just that bit more, just until it's enough.
And if it's never enough, well, then, Sungmin is okay with that too.
He'll heal.
Author:
static_abyssRecipient:
emo_what97Characters/Pairings: Siwon/Sungmin
Rating: r
Genre(s): college/rock band au
Warnings: some homophobia, cursing, bottom Siwon just in case that's a thing for anyone
Author's Note:If this fic was a movie, I don't care by Fall Out Boy would play in the opening credits. Also, I swear I didn't use ALL of the prompts, but thanks to emo_what97 because all the prompts were amazing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and happy holidays.
The first song Sungmin writes is about a boy who kissed another boy and died for it. He writes about fists and blood, about anger and regret. When Sungmin performs on stage for the first time, he paints his skin with the letters of his song, deep black marks along his pale skin that speak for him even before he goes on stage. He's the living embodiment of his music, hair wild and black, his eyes lined with kohl, voice too high until he controls it, lowers it to the right pitch. Sungmin's hands know how to move on his electric guitar. He knows how to sing so that his words drag over skin, so that the audience feels it, a living thing on them, all over them. Sungmin knows how to hurt the crowd.
Sungmin knows because he is a boy who loved a boy and died for it.
-
At times, when the band is resting between gigs, Sungmin will think about the first boy he kissed. It happened when he was in high school. He was old enough to let his rebellion get the better of him so that Sungmin wasn't afraid to return the heated glances. No one knew when Sungmin started seeing the other boy. They never told anyone, not even Sungmin's friends. They were good at it, hiding out behind buildings, sneaking around in parking lots.
When Sungmin remembers exact moments, he writes songs about them. It's easy to write when he remembers, to just put down on paper the feeling. Wet kisses and shuddering bodies make for good music, and Sungmin is good enough that he can sell it. His band is good enough that they can play it the right way, drag notes that Sungmin can sing to. Sungmin doesn't let himself think beyond the first kisses, the fucks in the backseat of his boy's car. It's not good to think of anything beyond that because Sungmin doesn't want to remember what happened after.
Sometimes, he thinks that if he did, his music would be enough to get him longer contracts, maybe a tour around South Korea. He'd be able to drop college.
But Sungmin isn't ready to write about the night his parents killed him, the night his parents found him on his knees, sucking a boy's cock, his boy's cock. It's better if Sungmin doesn't think about that, because then he starts to remember that he left behind a brother with parents who will poison him.
So Sungmin doesn't think about that. He writes lyrics about boys who like boys, and because he has no label to hold him back, he can. The funny thing is, people actually listen. Not just girls, but men too, men with tattoos on their arms, broad shouldered men, good looking men. Sungmin thinks that not all of them actually fuck other men, thinks that some of them have girls and just want to listen to something good, something real.
Sungmin lives off his music, the gigs at clubs. He lives off cereal and milk, rice, sometimes real meals when he gets more than one show in a row. Sungmin deals because he has music and himself, because he doesn't stick too close to the members of his band. He deals because if he lets no one else in, then no one else will hurt him.
Sungmin writes about that too, about hurt, about a boy who loved a boy who betrayed him—but never how. He writes and he lives. And for the moment, that's all that matters.
Until it isn't.
-
Siwon is a good boy. Sungmin knows because he sees the way Siwon tucks his shirt into his pants, how eyes fill with admiration whenever Siwon walks by. Sungmin notices Siwon because Siwon won't stop looking at him during their World's Religions class, the class Sungmin takes because he wants an answer, not because he wants to laugh. He's done laughing. Sungmin wants to know if he can be who he is and still believe in a god. He's not like Heechul who sits in front of the class and makes snide remarks whenever their professor mentions that science and religion can coexist.
But, Siwon. Siwon listens and that's why Sungmin notices him. Because Siwon never looks away from the professor, always leans a little too forward whenever there's something interesting. So it's easy for Sungmin to notice when Siwon stops paying attention. It starts with just a quick once over, Siwon's right eyebrow going up as he regards Sungmin. Sungmin ignores it because he knows what the people in the college say. He writes off Siwon's looks as assessments to see if Sungmin really looks the part of a cock sucking slut.
But Siwon doesn't stop.
It goes on for days, looks that get under Sungmin's skin so that he thinks they can't just be Siwon being curious anymore. It starts an itch under Sungmin's skin, nervous energy that makes him play his guitar loud and obnoxious in his apartment until his roommate leaves. Then Sungmin is alone, fingers tapping along the edge of his electric guitar, done playing notes.
He knows what he looks like, small bow shaped lips, perfect for sucking. It's what the people in his classes think, what they tell others. It's how Sungmin's band became so popular. People came, first, because they wanted to see if Sungmin would do them any favors, then because Sungmin's band was good, his lyrics were good. But the rumors never go away, not even when Sungmin hasn't done anything to encourage them. He keeps to himself, quiet and away from the others as much as he can. He takes his classes, studies in the library, keeps his head in his books, writing, reading. He practices his guitar, his singing and people still talk. There are twenty different people who swear Sungmin let them fuck him.
Sungmin knows he has the face that screams I'll let you fuck me. His eyes are too big, too wide, skin too pale, easy to bruise. His face is too feminine, sharp male edges softened by his mannerisms, things Sungmin wasn't able to shake off completely, no matter how hard he tried. He tilts his head too much to the side so that he comes off as submissive even when he knows he's the farthest thing from that. His face ruins the body he built, muscles invisible because his face is the first thing anyone sees. He's too soft, his smiles too cute. So, yeah, Sungmin can see why people would believe that he lets other's fuck him.
It never mattered though, because people could say whatever the fuck they wanted, but Sungmin never put out. They never got what they wanted because that isn't who Sungmin is. And in the beginning, as long as they kept talking, people would keep coming to his gigs. Until the words and rumors just didn't bother Sungmin anymore, until his band was good enough that whatever people thought didn't matter because Sungmin had his band, had his gigs, had his freedom. So, Sungmin doesn't understand why the words should matter now.
"They don't," he tells his empty room.
And when he finally puts his guitar down and crawls into bed, he believes them.
Except, the morning after, Siwon sits next to Sungmin.
"Can I help you," Sungmin asks before he can stop himself. He should have walked then, should have known that if he couldn't control himself with Siwon when they didn't know each other, then there would be no way that Sungmin could control himself once they did. He was distracted, he'll tell himself later, but he'll never admit by what.
"Hi," Siwon smiles, dimples so deep they fascinate Sungmin. "My name's Siwon."
He holds out a hand and Sungmin just stares at the manicured nails, the large all-encompassing hand. Sungmin thinks his hand is just as big if not wider, but he says nothing. It takes Sungmin a second to extend his hand, not because he's afraid, but because he doesn't understand. No one but Heechul will even talk to Sungmin, and Heechul stopped that once Sungmin told him he wasn't interested in being Heechul's experiment. But that's Heechul, ripped jeans and no fucks given. This is Siwon, clean cut, well-dressed, name brand jacket, and with a crucifix hanging around his neck.
"Hello," Sungmin answers, eyes raking over Siwon. "I'm Sungmin."
Sungmin sees a boy when Siwon grins, brown eyes that are a shade away from being dark. It's a boy in a man's body, muscles visible through Siwon's light blue button down, down the slope of his shoulder so that they hint at more on Siwon's back. Siwon's handshake is firm, but his hand is soft the way rich people's hands are. He's tall. Sungmin knows because he's seen Siwon standing, but also because Siwon's knees reach out further from underneath the desk than Sungmin's do, and because Siwon's shoulders are higher than Sungmin's are. Even when Sungmin straightens up like Siwon is doing, his shoulders can't quite reach Siwon's.
"Nice to meet you, Sungmin. I was wondering if I could ask you for an autograph. I have your band's CD."
It's a man's voice, deep and rolling off in waves towards Sungmin. But there's a hint of excitement underneath, a tint to the manners that scream innocence.
"How old are you," Sungmin asks.
Siwon frowns just a bit, his eyebrows coming too close together. Sungmin wants to laugh because even if Siwon's eyes and mouth don't give him away, his eyebrows do.
"Twenty. How about you?"
Sungmin waits for the joke, but it never comes. A boy. That's who's sitting next to him and asking for autographs, a boy who probably still lives with his parents. Sungmin grins, because he could eat this boy alive.
"I can give you an autograph," Sungmin tells him.
There's a brief flash of surprise on Siwon's face, and then he's smiling. "Thank you," he says.
They go back to listening to their professor, but when Siwon passes over his copy of Sungmin's only CD to date, Sungmin signs it. He considers getting his band members to sign it, but he doesn't know where they go when there are no gigs. He pauses once he's signed. His signature is standard, first letter of his name followed by lines and slopes. There's something missing though, not from his signature, but from the cover of the CD.
He picks up his marker again, jots down underneath his signature: p.s. I'm twenty-four.
Sungmin tells himself he does it only because it's polite since Siwon asked.
-
Sungmin can't stop thinking about Siwon. It's not the CD or the fact that Siwon is the type of good looking that Sungmin used to get off to in high school, the kind of guy that Sungmin liked to get off to in the years before he realized he needed a college education.
It's about how Siwon still sits next to Sungmin in their Religions class even when Sungmin's already signed the CD. It's about how Siwon will always ask how Sungmin's morning was and whether he's going to lunch afterwards. Sometimes Sungmin will wait for Siwon and they'll go to lunch together. Sungmin will get lost in Siwon's talk, answer questions before he can stop himself.
"Do you have any siblings?"
"A brother."
"Oh, I'm an only child."
Sometimes, they're not questions, but statements that leave Sungmin wishing he'd never agreed to have lunch with Siwon.
"They're staring at you again."
Sungmin shrugs. "I know," he answers.
Because he does, Sungmin knows. He can feel people's eyes on the back of his neck whenever he comes into the cafeteria. But, it doesn’t matter because all these people still come to his gigs and watch him dressed in skin tight jeans, body ruined under words and memories. They talk, but they talk about him, and he doesn't care what they think because they are the reason Sungmin has money, that Sungmin can afford the little apartment on the outskirts of Seoul and put himself through college. They're the reason that Sungmin doesn't have to go back to his parent's house.
But thoughts like that are dangerous, too close to what Sungmin doesn't want to remember. Someone—his first and only psychologist, probably—once told him that it's not healthy to push away the bad memories because then Sungmin wouldn't ever get over them. But, fuck that, because Sungmin is free and he decides what he wants and doesn’t want. Or he did, before Siwon.
Now that they eat lunch together, that Siwon will sit next to Sungmin in class, that Sungmin might have the closest thing to a friend he's had since high school—now it's harder to push the thoughts away.
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Siwon says a few lunches later, right after a boy leers in Sungmin's direction. Sungmin flinches when he hears Siwon say it, but he looks up and Siwon has this fond look in his eyes, right above that genuine smile Sungmin has come to recognize.
It's as close to acknowledging the rumors about Sungmin that he and Siwon have ever gotten. They have an unspoken agreement where Siwon doesn't say that he knows about the rumors, and Sungmin doesn't have to say they're not true. But Sungmin knows Siwon thinks about it, his comments give him away, the way Siwon will press a little closer to Sungmin whenever a leering boy gets too close.
Siwon doesn't look like he's waiting for an answer. He shouldn't be because Sungmin has never answered him comments like this before. When Sungmin looks up, Siwon is unwrapping the lunch his mother makes the maid send. It's getting so easy to just let Siwon care, to let Siwon fix what isn't really broken. One day soon, Sungmin can already see it, he's going to just let Siwon worm his way inside, so far that Sungmin won't be able to get him out.
If it's going to happen, Sungmin tells himself, he may as well be in control of when it's going to happen.
"No," Sungmin answers dropping his eyes back to his food. "I’m stronger than other people give me credit for."
He knows he's shocked Siwon because there's no answer right away. Sungmin doesn’t look up, chooses to pick up a spoonful of rice and eat that while he waits. The left leg of his pants tugs against his knee when Sungmin tucks his leg under his chair and away from Siwon. Sungmin knows what people say about him, what Siwon must have heard, about how much Sungmin likes to suck cock, about how he'll do it for a smoke. It makes him feel tainted with Siwon so close, as though if Sungmin touches him, he'll dirty Siwon. So, he moves his other leg and waits because people talk and Siwon is still here.
"The things they say," Siwon starts.
"I don't care what they have to say," Sungmin shrugs, leans away.
Siwon studies him, eyebrows furrowed, always so expressive. Sungmin wants to roll his eyes or smile. He's not sure which it is yet.
"They don't know you."
Sungmin nods, "that's why I don't care."
Siwon nods. "All right then," he says. "Then I don't care either."
Sungmin's head snaps up before he gives it permission. But Siwon is smiling, cheeks dimpling, eyes wide. He's always so surprised, as though happiness is still new to him, as though every time Siwon smiles or laughs it's an experience. There's a song there, Sungmin can feel it, about a boy who laughs for the sake of laughing. About how he met a boy who laughs so that the monsters don't win.
-
"What are your parents like," Sungmin asks once.
It should scare Sungmin how easy it is to inquire, as if he's allowed this with Siwon now.
"They're great," Siwon says. "My dad's a reverend and my mom owns a restaurant chain.
"Do they know?"
"Know what?"
Sungmin looks up from his sandwich and over at Siwon. The cafeteria is crowded today, people close enough that their conversation isn't private. Sungmin can see confusion on Siwon's face, as though he doesn't know what Sungmin is asking. As though, everything—the brush of fingers on Sungmin's wrist, the hugs, the looks in class—is unintentional.
"Do your parents know about you liking boys?"
-
Sungmin goes back to his room burning to write. He has words thumping through his head, chords underneath his fingertips. He writes about Siwon's lips, the dimples on his cheeks. Sungmin writes about wanting to fuck a boy with a grown up's body.
About wanting to fuck a straight boy.
-
"I'm sorry I freaked out," Siwon says during their next class.
Sungmin doesn't bother to look up from his cell phone. He's texting his drummer, asking if he can get the band together because Sungmin has songs.
Siwon doesn't say anything else, and Sungmin only looks up once he's sure his band—or the band, really—is going to drop by his place this coming weekend.
"You're allowed to freak out," Sungmin tells Siwon as their professor starts his powerpoint. "You're a closet homosexual."
Siwon blanches, but there's no denial on his face. Sungmin grins because he recognizes that face, has seen it in the mirror when he was seventeen. It wasn't that he didn't know. It was just that no one had ever thrown it in his face the way Sungmin's first boyfriend did. It's funny, Sungmin thinks now, that he can't even remember the guy's name considering how important he used to be to Sungmin.
"It's," Siwon stops, his eyes boring holes into his notebook. "It never happened before, liking people. It's, I think it's you."
Sungmin grins again even though his heart is racing. He eases back into his chair, tries to breathe because this isn't like his first time. He's in control now, older, wiser. Siwon's just a boy. Sungmin knows how to handle boys.
"I'm flexible," he tells Siwon. "I like girls, like boys better, maybe."
"How do you know for sure? How do I know it’s not just you," Siwon asks, and there's an edge to his voice as he tugs on the corner of his notebook. "How did you—how do I tell my parents?"
"You don't have to," Sungmin answers, too quick he knows, because Siwon is raising his eyebrows, confused now. "I didn't."
"Why not?"
Sungmin blows out a breath through his mouth, casts a glance at their professor who's arguing with Heechul. "They wouldn't have understood. They didn't. Kicked me out when they found out."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Sungmin says turning away from Siwon's wide eyes. "Oh."
-
They still have lunch together, until it's not only lunch but dinner too. Their conversations get more personal until Sungmin is telling Siwon things he hasn't told anyone outside of writing them in lyrics. It's direct this way, so much easier than it has any right to be, with Siwon sitting at Sungmin's kitchen table. Sungmin's roommate is gone for the night.
"I can't remember his name," Sungmin tells Siwon as they pick through their take out. "It’s been six years and I tried not to remember."
Siwon nods and Sungmin feels like maybe he can continue.
"I was seventeen and he was the first boy I liked. We fucked, that's all it was, really. We thought we were so smart," Sungmin says, kicks his chair back on two legs and looks at his kitchen ceiling.
There are cracks on the white paint, and Sungmin thinks of the night he was fucked open, left raw on his bed. He'd been on his knees, when his parents came back that night, pushing his boy's hips into the bedroom wall. Sungmin was new at it back then, had been following orders when his mother walked in.
If Sungmin closes his eyes, he can see her, white hairs at her temples, eyes wide when she saw Sungmin. His dad had been furious and Sungmin had sported a black eye for weeks. But he was nothing if not rebellious teenager back then.
"My parents caught us," Sungmin tells Siwon, and he can hear the way Siwon leans forward even as Sungmin stares at the ceiling. "My dad kicked me out, told me if I liked sucking cock so much I could go live with my boyfriend."
Siwon's hand is warm when he takes Sungmin's. Siwon's so fucking earnest in everything he does, the way he just moves into Sungmin's space like he belongs there. He's so sure sometimes it's hard for Sungmin to remember that Siwon's just a boy, just starting to learn how to like boys. It's hard to remember in moments like these when Siwon's face is so close that Sungmin could just lean forward, touch him, taste him.
"I left the house thinking he'd take me," Sungmin whispers, dark eyes searching Siwon's brown ones. "My perfect boyfriend told me he was done with me and that I should get back home. So I went back because I had no money and I wasn't old enough to leave. I stayed for a year until I could leave and then I worked in bars, found a roommate and moved in. I started writing songs because it was easier than thinking about everything. I'm good at singing. It makes me feel good."
"So don't stop," Siwon says, as though it's obvious, as though it's that simple.
Sungmin leans across the table, watches the way Siwon's eyes widen when he gets too close. Siwon doesn't move away though, his other hand even comes up to touch the side of Sungmin's face, up into Sungmin's hair. His hand is so sure, confident like Sungmin's never really been since he was young.
"I have to finish college because I'm not good for long term contracts."
"Why not?"
Sungmin rolls his eyes. "I write about boys fucking boys."
Siwon leans closer so that the table drags along the kitchen tiles. The sound feels like fingers up Sungmin's back.
"What's that like," Siwon whispers.
There's no embarrassment in Siwon, just curiosity. Sungmin looks at him, wants to understand, but can't.
"Good," Sungmin answers, voice catching and dragging.
"I think I really like you," Siwon breathes voice soft and scared. "But I'm not. I don't know what to do. Can you. Will you teach me?"
Siwon swallows and when his eyes go down to Sungmin's mouth, Sungmin can feel it. One of Siwon's hands is still pressing Sungmin's hand down into the table, holding him in place. Siwon's other hand is in Sungmin's hair, his fingers tightening there as though he wants to pull Sungmin in. Strong hands, confident fingers, everything Sungmin wants. It would be so easy to just lean in, to just say yes.
Siwon's still a boy and Sungmin wants, wants so much he's burning with it. He would be so good to this boy, would push him into Sungmin's bed and teach him, show him. Sungmin would be so good to Siwon, would make sure that Siwon isn't scared, that he knows what he wants. Sungmin wants that, wants Siwon to trust him. He wants Siwon to keep that innocence, the kind that Sungmin had before he fell for the wrong guy.
It would be so easy for Sungmin to make Siwon love him. So easy to ruin this boy for anyone else, to mark him. But, he can't. He can't because Sungmin is broken and he doesn't want Siwon to be the one to piece him back together. Siwon deserves better than that. Sungmin just wants to write and live and fuck, and he can't be whom Siwon deserves.
"Go," Sungmin says, snatching his hand back from Siwon.
"What?"
Wide eyes. That's all Siwon ever seems to be, surprised, giving off the illusion that he knows what he's doing but not really knowing at all. It's wrong because Sungmin can't forget that Siwon isn't there to take care of him.
"Go," Sungmin repeats. "Out."
-
Sungmin locks himself in his room for three days, comes out only when he has to eat and then goes back. He writes until his wrist aches with it, until there's ink on his fingers, words on the papers on Sungmin's desk. He plays his guitar, rips sounds from it. He can already see what he'll look like onstage, bleeding, fucked raw, the way he's never let himself be. Every word feels like he's ripping himself apart, but Sungmin goes with it. He goes with it because he can see a boy with wide eyes at the end of it, and Sungmin wants.
Sungmin always wants.
-
On the fourth day, Sungmin lets the band in and they practice.
On the fifth, he finally goes back to class.
-
"I'm sorry," Siwon says when Sungmin finds him in class the next day. "For not asking if it was okay."
"It's not you," Sungmin tells him, smiles even, because he hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time. "I needed to write."
"A new song," Siwon asks, and he's eager now, always so fucking eager.
"Yeah," Sungmin nods. "A song. About you."
Siwon doesn't say anything, but Sungmin sees the hope. Sungmin takes a deep breath, catches the cologne Siwon is wearing. It's nothing new, but it feels new because Sungmin feels new.
"Hey," he says leaning over onto Siwon's desk. "Want to get coffee with me later?"
He can't make it more of an invitation, but Siwon gets it because he smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks.
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay."
-
Sungmin doesn't fall in love because it's clichéd, even though love makes for perfect lyrics.
Sungmin just finds that dating Siwon is too easy and too much like physics all at once. One moment everything makes sense, the next it's all fucked up so that Sungmin can't tell what's up and what's down. Siwon at his door every morning at eight on the dot is endearing at first because Sungmin will invite him in and Siwon will give him the coffee he brought. They'll sit in Sungmin's room, on his bed and drink, neither looking at each other, but talking just the same.
There are no kisses the first few times that happens, not even on their third date. Siwon dresses up for all the dates, dark pants and tucked in button downs that make Sungmin dress up in return. He's back to wearing jeans and his own button downs, and he stops worrying about how the shirts are too bright, too tight on his shoulders. He's distracted, Sungmin supposes, by the way Siwon's own shirts fit. There are muscles underneath Siwon's clothes, thighs that Sungmin wants to dig his fingers into.
But, there's no kissing and Sungmin thinks it's because Siwon is trying to be a gentleman. Sungmin lets it happen because it makes something warm burn in his face whenever Siwon says good night but doesn't kiss him. It's so easy, like air filling Sungmin's lungs, a stretch against his rib cage every time Siwon entwines their hands underneath their desk during class.
And Sungmin is still asking himself why he's doing this two weeks into their dating. They're getting so domestic now, cereal boxes open on Sungmin's coffee table, while Siwon reads the newspaper on the couch next to him. Sungmin has a book open on his lap, something with theories about how Shakespeare's lover was a man. It's uninteresting like nothing else in Sungmin's life, but reading next to Siwon seems right. There's even a list of groceries to buy next to the empty cereal boxes.
"I think my roommate left me," Sungmin comments after he finishes the chapter on homoeroticism in Romeo and Juliet.
"His loss," Siwon says, but his eyes are still scanning his newspaper, brow furrowed.
Sungmin moves before he thinks it through, ends up in Siwon's lap, the newspaper under Sungmin's knees. They waited too long because Siwon kisses back as though he's breathing Sungmin in, mouth hot and incessant.
It happens often after that, when Sungmin least expects it. He’ll be in his room jotting things down and Siwon will be there, pressing Sungmin against the desk and kissing him. After a band practice, when Sungmin's voice is hoarse, he'll end up pressing Siwon into the sheets, kissing until their lips are numb. It's just kissing, but each time feels like something new to Sungmin, like letting go. Breathing free, so that it doesn't hurt anymore when Sungmin thinks of his brother or his parents.
Siwon's beautiful and innocent, so sure of himself, so polite when he doesn’t have to be. Sungmin likes to kiss him best when Siwon is watching the news, or pulling Sungmin's chair out for him. Sungmin likes to remind Siwon that he won't break, that Siwon's allowed to take too.
So, in terms of lyrics, Sungmin is getting a lot done these days.
But it's not just Siwon. It's the music, the new gigs at darkened clubs. It starts with Siwon and expands beyond that, into everything. Nothing feels heavy anymore and it gets harder to write songs, but that's a good thing. It just means that Sungmin stops writing about betrayal and writes about liberation instead.
-
When they fuck, because that happens eventually, Sungmin writes about it. He writes about Siwon's calloused hands against Sungmin's sides, the way Siwon's back arches off the bed when Sungmin fucks him open with his fingers. Sungmin wants to try it the other way, with him on his back and Siwon pushing into him, wants to feel those muscles moving against him, working to press Sungmin into the bed.
But it's not what they need now. Now, Sungmin needs to be in control, needs to know that Siwon trusts him enough for that, needs to coax Siwon into it, to teach him.
Sungmin is good at it, at pushing in, gasping through the tight heat of Siwon. And when they fuck, it's not really fucking anymore, but Sungmin doesn't know what else to call it. Siwon makes beautiful noises when Sungmin splits him open, rocks his hips into motion of Siwon's body. Siwon's name tastes like release on Sungmin's tongue.
When they come, Siwon first, they lie there next to each other. Sungmin likes the way his name sounds coming from Siwon. He likes it so much it hurts, a scratch in his throat that makes it difficult to swallow. He tucks his face into Siwon's neck, feels Siwon move to pull them close together. Of course, Siwon likes to hug. Nothing about Siwon surprises Sungmin anymore. He's glad for it, the bit of constant in his life, and he lies there, eyes closed. The best he can hope for is that this last just that bit more, just until it's enough.
And if it's never enough, well, then, Sungmin is okay with that too.
He'll heal.