Ship/Member: Mingyu/Jeonghan Major Tags: toxic relationships Additional Tags: references to nsfw activities, incls what are probably undernegotiated bdsm dynamics Permission to remix: Yes
*** It started out as a throwaway fling, in his mind. One part of a larger week of fun, before he went back to more serious affairs.
But then, right after the first night, when he stirred in still-warm sheets to the smell of something deliciously savoury wafting through the air, well. He wasn’t feeling fond, per se, but perhaps he changed his mind in that moment—wanted to see how long he could make it last.
(He was sorely tempted to say he didn’t eat meat in the morning, actually, just to see how his face might drop. But he decided to keep the claws sheathed a little longer—all for the sake of the game.)
*
He finds himself being mercurial, these days—is conscious of how fickle he wants to be, without restraint—and can he really be blamed when Mingyu just makes it so easy for him to do whatever he likes?
One night in bed he’ll feel sharp-edged enough to rake his nails down Mingyu’s back, leave tangled strings of red on his very willing canvas (there are very few places where he’ll accept the same in return, if he’s in the mood). He’s always so eager to be good, does his best to stay still if he’s asked, even when it’s Jeonghan methodically rocking his way to an easy completion while Mingyu is left a squirming raw nerve beneath him.
Sometimes he feels contrary enough to let Mingyu gently take the reins some nights, and—if he’s feeling prickly enough, already done with vapid exchanges at work and now faced with the sandpaper-rasp of guileless eyes and warm hands—he might stop them halfway in disgust, perching on the other side of the bed and telling Mingyu to finish by himself. Sometimes he stays there, sometimes he goes into the bathroom, but he still does it obediently—is still clearly hard, even when his eyes glitter with wet shame—so Jeonghan knows he still enjoys it.
And, sometimes, most rarely—he will truly crave just a bit of that easy, bottomless warmth and love, and not feel the need to twist it around and see how far it can be pushed that night. Something reminiscent of that first time, when he began to be invested in the game.
He’ll decide to finally relax into it and see the way Mingyu blooms under the additional warmth he shows in return, and he’ll be fascinated. Reassured, even. And he hates it, but he can’t get enough of it.
He’s heard about how simple it is to have a dog as a pet, if one is after easy affection; they’re always happy to see you come home after work, usually waiting at the door, always eager to express their love with relatively little strings attached. And their hearts are large enough to share it freely, with everyone they meet.
He hates that, too—he wants to be the only thing in Mingyu’s heart, even as he wants to ruin it so it can’t include anyone else.
And so he gives Mingyu the choice of low-lying self-consciousness in public, or conspicuous turtlenecks in summer.
He presses him down on the bed and snaps at him not to touch him like a good toy and maybe lets him rut out his pleasure with a reluctant sigh.
He keeps pushing and pulling because he can’t help but wonder how far Mingyu can bend until he finally breaks. The answer, so far, is quite far indeed. And maybe he doesn’t want to see the game end just yet, begins to remember the signs of the faultlines before they begin to truly crack through. But without it, the easy and familiar becomes so boring.
Playing nice with Mingyu for too long makes him bored, and he hates being bored.
[REMIX] easy touches
Major Tags: toxic relationships
Additional Tags: references to nsfw activities, incls what are probably undernegotiated bdsm dynamics
Permission to remix: Yes
***
It started out as a throwaway fling, in his mind. One part of a larger week of fun, before he went back to more serious affairs.
But then, right after the first night, when he stirred in still-warm sheets to the smell of something deliciously savoury wafting through the air, well. He wasn’t feeling fond, per se, but perhaps he changed his mind in that moment—wanted to see how long he could make it last.
(He was sorely tempted to say he didn’t eat meat in the morning, actually, just to see how his face might drop. But he decided to keep the claws sheathed a little longer—all for the sake of the game.)
*
He finds himself being mercurial, these days—is conscious of how fickle he wants to be, without restraint—and can he really be blamed when Mingyu just makes it so easy for him to do whatever he likes?
One night in bed he’ll feel sharp-edged enough to rake his nails down Mingyu’s back, leave tangled strings of red on his very willing canvas (there are very few places where he’ll accept the same in return, if he’s in the mood). He’s always so eager to be good, does his best to stay still if he’s asked, even when it’s Jeonghan methodically rocking his way to an easy completion while Mingyu is left a squirming raw nerve beneath him.
Sometimes he feels contrary enough to let Mingyu gently take the reins some nights, and—if he’s feeling prickly enough, already done with vapid exchanges at work and now faced with the sandpaper-rasp of guileless eyes and warm hands—he might stop them halfway in disgust, perching on the other side of the bed and telling Mingyu to finish by himself. Sometimes he stays there, sometimes he goes into the bathroom, but he still does it obediently—is still clearly hard, even when his eyes glitter with wet shame—so Jeonghan knows he still enjoys it.
And, sometimes, most rarely—he will truly crave just a bit of that easy, bottomless warmth and love, and not feel the need to twist it around and see how far it can be pushed that night. Something reminiscent of that first time, when he began to be invested in the game.
He’ll decide to finally relax into it and see the way Mingyu blooms under the additional warmth he shows in return, and he’ll be fascinated. Reassured, even. And he hates it, but he can’t get enough of it.
He’s heard about how simple it is to have a dog as a pet, if one is after easy affection; they’re always happy to see you come home after work, usually waiting at the door, always eager to express their love with relatively little strings attached. And their hearts are large enough to share it freely, with everyone they meet.
He hates that, too—he wants to be the only thing in Mingyu’s heart, even as he wants to ruin it so it can’t include anyone else.
And so he gives Mingyu the choice of low-lying self-consciousness in public, or conspicuous turtlenecks in summer.
He presses him down on the bed and snaps at him not to touch him like a good toy and maybe lets him rut out his pleasure with a reluctant sigh.
He keeps pushing and pulling because he can’t help but wonder how far Mingyu can bend until he finally breaks. The answer, so far, is quite far indeed. And maybe he doesn’t want to see the game end just yet, begins to remember the signs of the faultlines before they begin to truly crack through. But without it, the easy and familiar becomes so boring.
Playing nice with Mingyu for too long makes him bored, and he hates being bored.