lyeou
Fandoms
- SEVENTEEN (Band) (7)
- ENHYPEN (Band) (5)
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Summary
The bed turns out to be wide enough to comfortably fit him and Jay and a gutter between them. There’s no compromises, no tussling over blankets, not even a brush of skin. Which is how it should be.
And then, a hundred dumb American town names later, it isn't.
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Under those dull-toned pleats, between still boyishly slim thighs, straight south of his smooth stomach, Heeseung’s fingers orient themselves lower to cup him fully. Barely.
Hold it. Feel its weight, its heat, in your hands. This is what you do to me. This is how well I can wait for you. This is what I want to give you.There's not much time for inhibition when you're at death's door (or just plain old struck down by a debilitating flu).
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When will you give me a bouquet of flowers too?
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The weird kid's come again, with his wolf.
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The creamy beige fabric stretches over his ass painfully perfectly, hugs his muscular thighs, and is hemmed at a demure length, because it wouldn’t be fun if it was all slutty.
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"It's an amputee foundation. They’re for people who were forced to lose their legs from untreated diabetes," Heeseung says, tone going soft in sympathy, and Sunghoon wants to gag. No disrespect to diabetic people, no, but Heeseung sounded so much like a saint Sunghoon thinks he might vomit.
And when he glances at Jake, he no longer wants to vomit, but is compelled to throw a tantrum and wallow in his own tears. Jake looks at Heeseung wide-eyed with adoration, pupils sparkling, mouth hanging open.
Someone shoot me, he thinks.
(or: There's Jake, and there's Sunghoon—best friends, attached at the hip, each other's ride or die, partners in crime. It's been the two of them for the longest time, so things get complicated when Heeseung is added to the equation.)