#thinking abt biker yunho… drools

[mingirn]

high voltage when we kiss

jeong yunho x reader

synposis: it’s the summer after graduation, and you’re waiting for his call

genres: fluff, smut, crack, a little angst

warnings: friends to lovers, college!au, jock!yunho, smut, handjob, dry humping, dirty talk (minimal), yunho calls reader doll, gender!neutral reader, mentions of sex, cum, kissing, it’s pretty sweet tbh

word count: 8.8k

You had never thought about how loud mornings can be in the middle of undisturbed nature - the birds, the insects, the wind blowing through the trees - it's all like a song, sweet symphonies playing for whoever is there to hear. It seemed sometimes like the world was too loud, threading on forward in those moments when you can't do anything but listen. And listening is the sole thing you felt like you'd been doing since graduation. Laying in bed every day, prying your window open to gain any sort of relief in your stuffy room, and spending the entire days of your summer break by doing absolutely nothing, just laying, listening to the sounds outside. School had been out for two weeks, and the summer had officially started, for better or for worse.

Better: waking up late, no homework, no annoying classmates, no shitty cafeteria food, no jumping on your bike at ass o'clock in the morning to rush to school.

Worse: no Yunho.

It had been 15 days and 22 hours since you had seen or spoken to him last. On the last day of school the classes gathered in the auditorium for the summer run out: a tradition in your sleepy town where for the last day of school, the graduating classes would run out and throw your diplomas into the air, stupidly truistic tradition. Despite the heat Yunho had been dressed in a white dress shirt and matching black pants, you had remembered every detail. Thin white fabric wrapped around him, hanging onto every muscle and being a stark contrast to his skin that had started to tan from the summer sun. He had rolled his sleeves up, folded just above his sharp elbows to reveal his toned forearms. Yunho had become much more muscular towards the end of the semester, an intense year of being on the schools' football team had done his already broad physique well. It’s not like you hadn’t been aware, not like you hadn’t been stealing little glimpses at him for months now. You’d mapped his body out in your mind, committed each muscle to your memory. Yet, he seemed more irresistible than ever, sat there in a fancy shirt that had looked so pristine you knew his mom must have bought it new for him for this occasion only. It was a far cry from the regular t-shirt and hoodies you had seen him wear, and an even more ludicrous comparison to the roughed-up football uniform that had been his staple. He looked beautiful, surreal levels of handsome, and you hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. You had sat two rows behind him in the auditorium and kept sneaking glances at his wide shoulders every time he leaned over to whisper to one of his friends. You had noted the irony of your thoughts in combination to the setting - perhaps the rapidly approaching and wildly inappropriate thoughts you were having was something that should happen anywhere but within academic walls. Though, that was part of the thrill too, and when you had watched Yunho get up to accept his diploma you had imagined him whisking you away to the bathroom after the ceremony and the same legs that had carried you up to the podium for your own diploma would later be shaking, struggling to hold yourself up all because of Yunho.

Either way, 15 days and 22 hours were too much.

You had known Yunho for about a year, which had been a painfully short time in comparison to the years you'd both attended the same school without ever crossing paths. It hadn't been until last year that you'd gotten to know him. Perhaps it wasn't really surprising, you and Yunho were from completely different friend groups. Yunho was a handsome, outgoing, funny guy, one of those people that were always in the company of at least 5 friends, surrounded by laughter. It was intimidating, he was a jock, carrying the prestigious position of quarterback along with being co-captain. There wasn't a person in school who didn't know who Yunho was, he was cool, simply put.

There are tired clichés that make their way into every single school; the unspoken hierarchies of the popular kids and the ones who are not. Your school didn't escape this, but Yunho didn't fit into that type of cliché. He was kind, humble even, one of those guys that were sweet to a fault. Maybe this had been where the appeal came from, the way Yunhos selfless nature seemed to extend beyond even his own reach, surrounded him like an invisible halo. You had fit in somewhere under him, if the social hierarchy were to be described accurately. Not really popular, not really an outsider, you just got on. You had your set of steady friends, your own blanket of security found, and school was normal. You were focused on your studies and the steady approach of graduation had you spending more time doing homework than you had patience and capacity for. You only had one single class in common with Yunho that he spent in the back of the classroom, quiet and focused, effectively missing you in the jumble. Therefore, you and Yunho rarely crossed paths.

It would be this difference that would bring you together though, surprisingly.

It was a Friday, another football game had been put on by the school and you hadn't really had any plans of attending. Sports were as far from your interests as anything could ever feasibly come, and it's not like you'd gain anything by suddenly attending one game after having ignored them for the past years, but your friends had differing opinions. The differing opinion was your friends' new boyfriend, who was an outside linebacker. So, regretfully, you and your friends had all been dragged to the game on account of accompanying your lovestruck friend.

It wasn't up until this point that you had really, truly paid attention to the schools' football team, Yunho included. You knew them all from seeing them in the hallways and sharing sporadic classes with a few of them. You'd seen their faces plastered on posters in the halls, you just hadn't been interested enough to learn their names, figured you wouldn't need to when graduation was soon to come. So far you'd luckily escaped having to gain any knowledge of the team members, except for San who had asked your friend out three weeks ago, and was the reason for her newly acquired interest in the schools' sports.

It was a warm afternoon when you took your seat in the stands, settling down next to your friends. You'd purchased a coke in the cafeteria to keep you cool, but it stayed mostly forgotten once the cheerleaders came out on the field. You couldn't deny that it was entertaining to be here - the ambiance was just different. It reminded you of the annual fair, those late nights you and your friends had spent in the Ferris wheel and in the bumper cars, stuffing your faces with cotton candy until you felt sick. It got your blood pumping quickly, the joint surroundings of people packed close together and the dizzying summer heat made the air feel charged. The sickly sweet smell of cheap cafeteria soda and slushies filled your nose, you could still recall it, etched permanently into your memory. The cheerleading team had been good, the stands filled with loud cheers and you'd stood up to clap when they'd tumbled off the field. When the players finally came out and the game started you'd be lying if you said you had understood much of anything. You cheered when the crowd did, and you gathered who San was from your friend pointing him out, but that was about it. So far, you thought, the cheerleaders had been way more tantalizing than the game itself. You could practically hear the people behind you hold their breaths when the fall would fly across the field, and then the jarring erupting screams when it would be brought over the line, just as the commentator would yell "touchdown!". It was far too much to keep up with, even worse so when you knew you had algebra sitting at home waiting for you, the deadline approaching threateningly fast. 

Then, your focus had landed on one of the players in specific. A handsome, tall boy with dark hair and even darker eyes. His jersey was decorated with the number '23' and he seemed to be one of the star players, because you noticed the way the crowd cheered every time he caught the ball, and the even louder cheers when he would take off running with it. Your friend, the one with the boyfriend, had noticed you eyeing him and leaned over to talk to you.

"Jeong Yunho, quarterback." she had said simply, and you got the hint. The boy, his name was Yunho.

You felt like the game ended quicker than what you'd assume was usual, which wasn't on account of a newly grown interest in the sport, you hadn't watched the game much at all, but you had guessed your schools' team must have won. At least, it seemed so by the way your friend had run onto the field after the final buzzer and threw her arms around San. Rather, the game had felt short because you had been stealing glances of him, Yunho. You had tried to be casual, had felt foolishly embarrassed by being so taken by a literal stranger, but you couldn't help yourself. He was charming, moved over the field as if it was the most natural thing to him, threw himself headfirst into anyone in his way, and seemed to catch the ball in the most impossible ways. Granted, you didn't have much of anything to compare him to, it was your first game and you understood as much as you would have had it been presented to you in hieroglyphs, but Jeong Yunho just seemed like he owned the entire stadium, as if he could have played the game lonesome. He was just so distracting, the looming height of him, and even from the stands you'd been able to see the size of his hands as he gripped the ball, and the way his legs seemed to go on for miles. He seemed straight out of a movie, too good and too beautiful to be true. Had he been walking your halls this entire time?

It was silly, absolutely unreasonable, to think this highly of a boy you'd never once spared a thought before. You'd chalked it up to the booming atmosphere, nothing more than an illusion brought on by the palpable energy in the air. That had been it; stupid, illogical teenage pheromones.

After the game you had bought a milkshake and sat with your friends, waiting outside the football field and watching the crowd leave. Your friends started to leave too, one by one, as their rides arrived. In the end, it had just been you and your friend left, you promising to keep her company until San would come out of the racks. Your milkshake had started to melt under the heat that seemed to be near-permanent, and you watched the beads of condensated water run down your cup.

It wasn't long before the door to the racks swung open, and the team started to pool on out, freshly showered and changed. Your friend waved San over and he started to jog towards you, waving his arms in the air to her. It was stupidly cute, watching your friend and her new boyfriend. You had half a mind to tease her for how sickeningly sweet she was all because of him until you had noticed one of Sans friends coming up after him. Yunho, the quarterback.

Your heart felt like it was beating somewhere in your throat, choking you up, when San and Yunho came up to where you and your friend were sitting. San picked your friend up and spun her around, and you just sat there, feeling awkwardly small. Yunho laughed and made kissy sounds towards his friend. Fuck, he was funny, he was charming. One of those people who can effortlessly fill space.

"Alright," your friend had declared then. "We're gonna leave now. I have to be home before 9."

You cringed, completely and totally. How could she leave you here now, how could she take off with San and just leave you here with Yunho? She was a damn traitor, horrible deceiver, and she’d have to hear all about it on Monday morning.

Your friend turned to you then and spoke again, "Get home safe, yeah? Bye!"

You wanted to flip her off, wanted to pull her aside and beg her to let you come with, but all you could muster out was a quick 'bye, see you'. And then she was making her way to Sans car, his arm slung around her shoulder.

And Yunho had stayed, stood in front of you. He seemed the total opposite of the aggressive, confident player you had seen on the field as he stood quietly and shoved his hands into his pockets. His bag had been hanging off of one of his shoulders, and he was dressed in a casual sweater and shorts. His hair had been wet, sticking to his forehead, and you could smell his shampoo all the way to where you sat. It had been dizzying, all of it.

"Um," he began, clearing his throat. "Do you know if the cafeteria is still open?"

Your imagination had been running wild trying to envision what he would sound like when he spoke but nothing was as good as the real thing. Your heart fluttered at just the sound of his voice, it was deep and quiet, he sounded sweet and you wondered if he was the type to get loud when he was excited. A big booming laugh, maybe. Or was he the type to giggle sweetly and cover his mouth with his hand? Maybe both. Your brain was racing, trying to imagine it all, as you also tried to stay present in the moment. Stupid, absurd, nonsensical teenage infatuation.

"No, it's closed now."

"Shit. I really wanted one of those milkshakes. They're good, right?"

He nodded to the milkshake in your hand. It was soupy now, having melted completely.

"Yeah," you started. "I mean, I haven't had one here before. It's my first game. But you're right, uh, they're good."

Yunho laughed at that, and sat down next to you.

"I thought it was your first game, I've never seen you here before." he said. "How was it?"

"It was good." You fumbled for an answer. You didn't really want to admit that you had no clue about if the game had been good or not, you didn't want to make it obvious that you hadn't understood a single thing about it. Figuring that you need to say something more in order to not sound like a total loser, you add: "You did great, by the way."

"Were you watching me?" he said, and you could tell by just the sound of his voice that he was smiling. You dared a look over to him, finding him smirking at you. Something came over his face then, and he cocked his eyebrows at you just a little bit, as if he was teasing you.

You swallowed hard, but decided to take the bait.

"It was hard not to." you mumbled, and it came out a lot less confident than you would have liked it to.

Yunho, thankfully, laughed. One of those laughs that ends in a snort. It didn't feel like he was making fun of you, and you had breathed out a sigh of relief. It had all felt too good to be true and you felt drunk off of nothing but the brewing atmosphere. It was 8:38, in the parking lot of the schools' football field and somehow it felt as if the most romantic location on earth. The heat laid over you like a blanket and the sky was starting to turn into a hazy, golden pink.

"Thank you though, for the compliment on my performance."

"Of course..." you said, and things got quiet for a minute. You could feel your heart pound against your chest, sitting there next to the star quarterback, his bare thigh visible in the corner of your eye.

"Do you need a ride or do you have one?" he asked then. You'd gotten a ride from your friend, foolishly enough, so your bike was at home.

"You've got your license?"

"Yeah," he had smiled and pointed to a motorcycle parked just a few feet away from you. "Got it as soon as I turned 18."

Memories came flooding back to you then, of the breezy spring morning you'd heard the roaring sound of a motorcycle make it's way up to the school's parking lot. You'd just seen the jacket in the school's signature colors, confirming that he was a jock, and at the time it had been a bit of a surprise. Most of them drove Chevys or Pontiacs and you'd seen jocks roll up in Mustangs, but he had come to school the day after his birthday, fresh off his license, on a low Yamaha cruiser. You remember how stupidly small you had felt on your old bike when you had seen the way the jocks had gathered around his new motorcycle to gush at it.

You remembered it vividly, but you hadn't known it was him, that it was Yunho. Now, the prospect of getting to ride on Yunhos revered cruiser feels like something pulled straight from those movies they'd show late at night at the drive-in theatre.

"So how about that ride, then?" he asked you again.

"I don't have one, but-" you stopped, and looked over at Yunho who was still smiling. "You're not like, weird or dangerous, are you?"

"You'll just have to find out."

You threw your milkshake away and Yunho had walked you to his motorcycle. He had let you wear his helmet and told you to grab the holds on the back of his bike, then he had taken off with you sitting behind him. It didn't take long to get to your house, and Yunho had told you goodbye with a big smile on his face before he drove off. The steps up to your house had felt like you were walking on clouds. 

Since that evening you and Yunho had been friendly with each other, you would speak in the halls and he would drive you home after the games. He had even asked you to stay behind a few times, told you to buy him a milkshake from the cafeteria while he showered in the changing rooms, and you'd spent hours talking in the parking lot behind the football field. When you had to sign up for new classes at the beginning of the last semester you ended up having some classes together. It had been so easy, growing closer to him, talking to him as if you'd known him all your life.

It all toed the line of friendship, always somewhere close to flirty between you two but undoubtedly just friends. He was just so stupidly, obnoxiously sweet, the way he befriended you so fast and fit you into his life as if you had been missing from it before. You remember the night you’d heard the sound of his bike roar outside your house, and then the knock on your window that had followed after it. Yunho had climbed all the way up to your window and insisted that the effort was all just so he could copy your homework. You had been in your pajamas and he had pinched your thigh, told you how cute you looked and all but pestered you into giving him the answers for the homework, until he had disappeared out your window again. He had only lingered for a moment, kissed your cheek, and then he jumped off the windowsill.

To Yunho, you were just friends, but your feelings didn't seem to be aware, and suddenly you had fallen head over heels for Yunho. Looking back on it, you think you had been falling from the very first night.

He had promised to call during the break so you could do something together. It's hot in your room, a summers morning and his words ring even hotter in your head. "I'll definitely call, I'll miss you too much." In the warm summer air you sit in your bed, and briefly wonder if he's real or just a hallucination, a daydream or fantasy of sorts. It's easy to believe, now that you haven't seen him in two weeks.

He hasn't called yet, and it's been two weeks.

Perhaps it was too good to be true.

The day slips by easily, it's like a dream with a sequence of scenes. A scene of you in the shower, trying especially hard to push away thoughts of him being there with you, another scene of you in the kitchen, preparing dinner, another scene of you in the garage trying to fix the broken tire on your bike. The last scene, laying in bed at 8 pm with your eyes closed, just listening. The footsteps, the crickets, the birds, the wind. And suddenly, the phone.

"Hello?" you ask, breathless, pushing the black cord phone to your ear. Your phone is sitting on your desk and above it there is a mirror, and you catch yourself trying to fix your messy hair, as if he could see you. You don't even know if the person on the other line is him, but you wish it is, and you're literally making yourself look good for him, as if he could see you anyways. You're a fucking dumbass.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

It's him, it's absolutely him. You purse your lips, steadying your breathing, trying not to smile but it creeps onto your lips anyways. You watch yourself in the mirror, and swear you can almost see your heart beat through your chest.

"Same as every day, nothing."

"You wanna go swimming? At the quarry?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll pick you up at 12."

"Okay." you agree softly, leaning towards your desk.

"See you then."

It's over fast, he hangs up first. You're still smiling into the receiver.

He pulls up to your driveway with a groggy hello, a sunny smile still on his lips despite the fact that he sounds tired. Yunho is dressed in one of those old band t-shirts that he’s cut the sleeves off himself. His hair is.. different. At first, you can’t put your finger on what it is about it, he always looked nice to you, but you notice after a while that he has pulled it back. He'd slicked it back with something and this is the first time you’ve ever seen his hair styled, apart from the day of graduation when he confessed to you that his mom had helped him tidy up his hair. He looked handsome, he looked cool, and it was a big change from how he always looked in his football uniform or the casual sweaters he would wear to school.

It was just a few minutes after 12, so the sun hadn't hit its peak yet but it was still warming up everything it could reach and you could feel it burning on the back of your neck. The summer heat was unforgiving, and had you not been so mesmerized by this new look of Yunhos you had likely been worried about the uneven sunburn you’d most definitely acquire.

The sun loomed over you as he drove. You had faint memories of the first time he drove you home that night, comparing it happily to the present day. It seemed eons away from you now, the nervous mess you had been when you had sat behind him that first night. Instead of holding onto the handles, your hands would now always find their way around his waist and on longer drives you would lean against his back.

He drove past a small forest where an opening hid behind a gathering of trees, and it was quite tricky to get his bike through it, but Yunho had always found that he was quite determined for success when he hung out with you. He parked his bike alongside a little trail and you only had to walk a few seconds before the trees cleared up and you stood above the quarry. The drop wasn't too high, it varied between the highs and the lows. You’d jumped off of all heights more times than you could count, grown accustomed to the initial adrenaline-filled scare of plunging into the water below. More than that, the view here was beautiful. The water down in the quarry reflected the cloudless sky and laid peacefully between the walls of rocks.

You laid the helmet down on the ground and placed your bag down too, preparing to spread a blanket over the ground for you and Yunho to lay on when he turns to you and gives you a small smile. Then, he promptly yanks his shirt over his head, taking off without so much as a warning, jogging towards a low point in the cliffs and diving without a bit of hesitation, the only proof of him still being around is the pile of his clothes on the ground and the splash that echoes through the quarry seconds later. You suck in a breath, rattled by the seconds you'd been given for yourself, standing up on the cliffs. It's a welcomed relief that Yunho has already plunged in, that you wouldn't have to stand here and act casual at the sight of him shirtless. You can practically feel your head buzz now, feeling stupidly empty at the same time as your body starts to move by itself, kicking your shoes off. You feel heady, distracted by the thought that down in the water Yunho swims, skin bare and exposed underneath nothing but sun and air. You hear him yell from underneath as he emerges from the water, calling your name, shouting for you to get down. Your hands are already working on ridding yourself of your clothes, stripping down to nothing but your swimming clothes.

You'd come to learn, through your friendship with Yunho, that there are three versions of him. There's the Yunho that would roam your halls, the same Yunho that tackled players on the field and shouted incomprehensible instructions to gain a sweet win, that Yunho that wore the number 23 between his shoulder blades, the Yunho that girls and guys alike would fawn over. The second Yunho is your friend, this big and dumb friend of yours who offers his kindness as if it’s second nature to him. A friend who forgets your differences, who pulls you into his arms before 8 am class and ruffles your hair when you pout over homework, who calls you late at night to wish you sweet dreams and whispers your name into the receiver as if it’s a secret, as if shares it with you. A friend, ”what’s yours is mine”, and what are you - if not his? The third Yunho is the one you dream of, the boy you’d fallen in love with somewhere along the line. The Yunho whose hand lingers a bit too long around your waist, who leans over and whispers jokes into your ear for you to hear only, the Yunho who kisses your cheek and promises your parents that he will have you home before dinner. The Yunho you could see yourself being with, who - in your dreams - kisses you sweetly, holds your hand when he takes you out to dinner, who fucks you like he loves you, and sometimes like he wants to ravage you.

Yunho, is an amalgamation of all this. Falls somewhere between it all, in all his ingenuity. Most of all, Yunho is a thousand times too good for you. You’d be lucky to have even one version of him, you sometimes find yourself thinking you’d be granted the highest award if he only had acknowledged your existence. But he’s here, with you, calling your name, wanting you down in the water with him. And how could you ever compare? What are you, in contrast to this six-foot-plus jock built on nothing but muscles and unwavering kindness?

It’s been building in your stomach for a long time, the thick and swallowing fear that you’ve acquired someone too good. That one day Yunho will wake up and realize the mistake in ever walking up to you after that game, that he will cross you out and regard you as a regret, and fill your place up with someone else. Now, as you stand here up on this cliff with the same sun that burns him prickling at your skin it feels all too real. Having to jump down there, bare yourself to him and trust that he’ll still like you after it.

You wish and you want.

Fuck it, you think, and you jump.

The cold engulfs you startingly, and then pleasantly, like your body has been aching for this. In warm summers heat, this feels like heaven. You relish in it a moment before you resurface and feel the way your hair sticks to your face, which you hastily try to shove away. Yunho laughs at you and all you can do is splash water at him, which - much to your dismay, causes him to laugh even louder.

"You don't want to start that!" he laughs. If only to spite him, you do it anyways and after splashing him once he shows no mercy in doing it back.

There is no calm after the storm. Yunho splashes water back at you, pulls you close to him, and dumps handfuls of water right over your head. The tug of war of merciless shoves and breathless laughs all becomes melody bouncing off of the water, and in this moment it feels like there’s no one else in the world except you and him. In the water with him the worries disappear, wash away with the waves you create or perhaps floating somewhere in the air, left behind when you’d flung yourself off the cliff. Yunhos hands tug you close, wraps his arms around you and swirls you around in the water to make you laugh. There’s no hesitation when he touches you (no disgust), just love, just kindness, just Yunho.

You’re both still laughing as you make your way up the cliffside again, and there are soft giggles leaving your mouths even as you lay in the grass on top of the cliff point. You’re on your towel, he’s on his, and you’re just frying under the sun, the dizzying scent of nature making your head spin in a welcoming way.

Yunho lays beside you, eyes closed, his breath is even, and if it wasn't for the occasional glances he’d steal of you it would seem like he was asleep. It's lulling, all of it. Him, summer, the sun, the sounds. Sometimes the world can be loud and you can enjoy it. You feel calm, a need to be quiet as if any sound would disrupt the beautiful song nature was singing to you, but then you find yourself yearning to hear his voice.

"Is this all you do?" you ask quietly, your lips barely moving as you speak. Your eyes are closed and if he moved next to you, you wouldn't know. He hums.

"Yes, in summer," he says with an exhale. You then feel him shift next to you, laying on his side to face you. "I lay around at home all day, sleeping mostly. Play ball with the boys sometimes, but they’re all mostly away for vacation. Except for San, and I know you can guess what he’s busy doing."

Yeah, you can guess what San is busy doing. Your friend, most likely.

”So I wasn’t your first choice then?” you smirk, teasingly.

”Not my second either.” he teases you back. ”Mingi was busy today too.”

”You’re horrible. So cruel.” you say. It’s still just teasing, nothing but a game of push and shove. You decide to crack an eye open to look at him. Yunho is closer than before, kind of leaning over you but still keeping his distance. His lips part and he lets out a jagged breath, eyes darting to your lips. If he was thinking of a retort he seemed to be in no rush to say it.

It would be so easy to kiss him right now, just curl your hand around his neck and pull him down only a few inches, that’s all it would take. You’d find yourself thinking about it more often these days; kissing him, that is. Yunho is an affectionate person, the type to sling his arm around your shoulder in the halls and the type to lean in close when he’s laughing. A few times you’d had lunch with him at school and he had absentmindedly laid his hand on your knee, drumming a little tune with his fingers on the exposed skin of your leg. He’s so effortlessly affectionate that you hadn’t even noticed when you’d begun thinking about him kissing you. It must have been somewhere between the milkshakes and the rides on his motorcycle, and now that you’ve started it seems you can’t stop.

Yunho thinks for a moment and he gathers himself, closing his lips and swallowing loudly.

"You were my first choice. I should have called before, I know it took me some time, but-" he begins, shaking his head in some sort of disbelief at himself. ”I just had some things to think about.”

It’s not what you expect him to say. You’d expected a fumbling attempt at a comeback, for him to poke his long finger into your side and say that you’re a big meanie for calling him cruel.

"Yunho, it’s okay," you say. ”It’s really okay. We’re here now.”

When you speak you can see his eyes following the movement of your lips, and you wonder if he wants to kiss you as badly as you want to kiss him. There is a strange form of intimacy trapped in his gaze, thoughtful and curious but intimidated too, like he fears what you will do to him. As if he fears your impact on him.

Your heart beats like a drum and you fear that Yunho will hear it. The sounds of nature you had heard so clearly a moment ago feel infinitely drowned out now, it's just the sound of your heart, his breaths, his lips parting.

He reaches his hand up to hold your face, fingers coming to rest gently on your jaw. He graces his thumb over your bottom lip. This is his invitation- he’s asking, can I kiss you? Can I do more? Do you want me? You press your lips to the pad of his thumb, an act of granting him permission. Kiss me, it means, I want you too. He brings his face down but the hold on your face persists, and finally, he connects his lips to yours. Time is unreal, intangible, and incomprehensible, but one thing you are sure of: it can stop. Time stills when Yunho kisses you, the singing birds pause their songs, the trees stand still, waiting, allowing you this moment.

It’s embarrassing how eagerly you kiss him back, moving your hands up to the back of his neck and letting him kiss you deeper than you’d ever expect for a first kiss. Yunho opens his mouth just barely, letting his tongue come out to stroke your bottom lip and when you open your mouth to give him the permission he licks eagerly against the tip of your tongue.

Yunho is a good kisser. He kisses you as if he wants to swallow you up entirely, this passionate need and gentle push for more, more, more. His fingers card through your hair and he leans further down, hovering above you now. You can feel his chest press against yours, his skin has dried from the heat and is pleasantly warm from the sun. It’s mindboggling, truly world-turning, all of it - how you’re kissing the boy of your dreams, and he’s so beautiful, and he’s making these small little sounds against your mouth. He sounds so delicious, the little ’mmh’s that muffle against your lips, eagerly, as if he’s been wanting nothing but to kiss you. You swallow every moan of his, match them with your own.

His hand moves from your hair and then trails his finger down your neck where he splays out his fingers entirely. His long fingers wrap loosely around your neck, not to apply pressure or cut your air supply, but just to feel. Then he surges in closer, kissing you deeper than before and feeling with his fingers the way he stops your breath with just his kiss.

He pulls away a little and a breathy laugh plays on his lips. He’s cocky, loves the control he has over you after so little. His hand still lays on your throat, and within seconds he’s replacing it with his lips. He kisses over your neck, dragging his tongue over your skin and leaving open-mouthed kisses down your jugular. He lays his tongue flat against your neck, right beneath your jaw, and your mind reels with the knowledge that he can probably feel your pulse quicken underneath his tongue.

It’s scary, the way it takes over your body. The sounds he’s making pools deep in your belly, ignite you from the inside.

"Baby.." he moans, and it's the first time he’s ever called you anything but your name. You don’t know what to respond - can’t, not like this - so you pull his lips to yours again. He groans into your mouth, parting his lips and like this you can shove your tongue into his mouth. You don’t know how to kiss him properly, far too unfocused to pull yourself together, just desperate to get any taste of him on your tongue. He smiles, fucking smiles, against your lips and moves his leg over your body to hover above you completely.

Your hands wrap around his neck and you arch your back against him, the skin of his stomach touches yours, feels like it catches on fire. Every touch of his skin sends waves of electric sparks through your body. He’s so feverishly hot against you, it feels overwhelming.

Yunhos hands roam over your body, large palms sliding down your sides and cupping at your hips, feeling up your chest. In contrast, he kisses you sweetly, as if he’s trying to be gentle with you. It’s hard not to indulge him when his hands are so soothing, lulling you in to be at his mercy. You focus on kissing him back carefully, smoothing your lips against him passionately and leaving small, teasing licks against his lips, trying to tell him with every kiss that you’re so fucking in love with him. One of his hands settles around your waist, wrapping around it to bring your middles closer together, and his other hand travels up your body again to wrap around your throat again. He doesn’t push it, just simply rests it there and massages the skin with his thumb, simply holding you in his hands.

Yunho grunts once, fumbling with the hand at your waist and trying to adjust the way he’s hovering above you, when you feel his hips press down into yours. His hipbone presses into your stomach, and then there’s the rolling warmth of his hips, and then - him. Yunho is hard, he’s big, and you can feel it press into you. Your bones feel like fucking liquid once you realize that he’s growing harder as he tries his best to pull away from you, desperately trying his best to stop himself from rutting against you.

You sprawl your hands across his back then, digging your fingertips in his shoulders to pull him down, closer. One of your hands travels down his back, feeling the way his defined muscles move underneath the pads of your fingers. You wish you could stop everywhere, splay your hands over him and feel your way over every little bit of skin, but you don’t have time now. Yunhos hard cock is pressing into and you want him, want his hands on you or his cock inside you. Anything, whatever, you’d be good with anything as long as he just stops holding himself back. Your hand comes down to his ass, and you push intently into the plush skin to get him to move.

”Fuck,” he gasps out, breaking away from you to take a second to collect himself. His chest heaves with how heavy he’s breathing but he still speaks. ”Is it okay? I mean, do you want this to stop?”

”No,” you blurt, voice broken. ”No, Yunho, don’t stop. I want more.”

He swallows hard, a small smile playing on his lips, and the hand at your waist travels lower. He connects his lips to yours again, all but crashing onto your mouth. He’s quickly learned what you like the most, like when he swipes his tongue along the roof of your mouth or the way he teases you by not letting you drag your tongue across his. He uses everything he’s learned about you and teases you with it, as if he’s determined to drive you crazy. It wouldn’t take much, you feel mad already, feel like there’s tension pulled chords strung across your entire body waiting to snap at any moment.

You love being able to touch him, to feel your hands on him. He’s warm underneath your touch, his body is soft and lean, beautifully shaped by all of the hard work he’s put into his sport. You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him like this, but it’s probably not the time to question it.

He allows himself to rut against you this time, small and slow movements that does nothing to appease the growing ache that’s building between your legs. He’s fucking teasing, whether it is on purpose or not, but it works. You feel yourself growing even needier, meeting his rolling hips with your own movements. His dick is pushed against you perfectly, pressing into your own core with every pull of his hips. You can feel the warmth of it even through the layers of swimwear, it’s too much, but also way too little.

You whine into his mouth, small little moans that he swallows up with every kiss. At once, he drags his hips down forcefully, pressing his dick directly into your crotch and when you gasp out a whining moan Yunho smiles against your lips. He’s enjoying this, you realize, he gets off on getting you needy.

You can’t take the teasing anymore, so you slide your palm down the front of his body, ignoring the way you feel your fingers tremble a little, and then you begin to untie the string of his swim trunks. He groans when he pulls away from you to watch your hands work his shorts open, and he’s panting heavily now, shallow breaths causing his toned chest to rise and fall. It’s awkward when you try to tug his shorts down, he even reaches down to help you, but it doesn’t matter once Yunhos dick is free. He hisses through his teeth once the air hits his cock and it bobs down, hitting your hand.

You try your best to steady your breathing as you reach out to place your fingers around him. As soon as you make contact with his cock his hips thrust into your fist, a slow stroke that forces out an embarrassing whine from him. His head falls heavily against your shoulder, eyes closed, hot breath hitting your shoulder as he tries to focus on keeping calm.

Yunho is big. Tall like a mountain with long legs and big hands, broad shoulders, thick thighs. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that his cock is as big as the rest of him, but it makes your head spin nonetheless when you feel the weight of him in your hand.

His mouth opens now, as you gather the small amount of precum at the tip of his dick and spread it across his head. The first few pumps of your first are slow. You tighten your grip on him, listening for the way his breath gets faster when you get to where he likes, and then you quicken your pace.

”Shit, that’s good, feels so good.” he coaxes you when you get the pace just right. He bites down on your shoulder once, gracing his teeth along your collarbones and pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses up your neck. Each little kiss feels like a ’thank you’ when he pushes his lips against your skin, and then he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

It’s even hotter like this, the way he struggles to kiss you back fully as you pump your hand over his dick. He grunts into your mouth, breathing out shallow ’ah’s that go directly to your crotch and you find yourself clenching your legs around him. It seems like something snaps in Yunhos head then, the realization that you’re just as needy as he is, and he wants to make sure you get your pleasure too. He pulls away a little, adjusting his hips to the side so that he can slot his leg between your thighs. Your hand is still holding his cock, and when he pushes your hips down on his thigh to make you understand his intent you squeeze your hand around him in surprise.

”There you go, doll.” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your lips. ”Be good, hump my leg while you touch me.”

Yunhos words ring heavy within your skull and you nod back at him, mindless and desperate from just the way he orders you, the way he lets himself over to be used for your pleasure. You start to rut your hips against his thigh in a few awkward movements to find where it feels good, and then settling into a steady pace. You find a good rhythm, snapping your hips up to drag yourself over his toned thigh at the same time as you stroke him. Yunho rocks his hips ever so slightly too, determined to help you feel good and meeting your hand around his cock at the same time.

”Right there,” he murmurs. ”Feels so good, don’t stop, please.”

His face contorts, twisting from the pleasure, and somehow you’ve never seem him look so beautiful. Is it normal for men to be so beautiful? To you, he is. The most beautiful man on earth, especially now as his mouth falls open and his eyes screw shut, all because of your hand on him.

Yunhos hand digs into your hip, fingers pushing so hard you think he might bruise you, leave his mark on you for the next few days. He flexes the muscles of his thigh against you with every slow drag of his hips and you find yourself getting close embarrassingly fast. If nothing else, just the way Yunhos hands roam over your body to try to find purchase is enough to send you reeling. His hand follows further down, wrapping around your thigh and pushing into your flesh, pulling you even closer to his thigh. He seems determined to get you off, and that fast. Wants you to come undone for him just like this, from nothing but his thigh and his wandering hands on you.

”Yunho,” you whine. He opens his eyes as soon as he hears your voice, eyes finding yours instantly.

”Yeah?” His voice is rough and hoarse, sounding just like it does when he comes off the field after an intense game. It makes you feel powerful, the way he’s as worked up from your hand around his cock as he is on the field.

”I’m- Ah, I’m getting close, are you..?” The words are shaky as they leave your mouth. You don’t really have to ask, because you feel the way tremors travel through his dick, twitching in your hand at just the words.

”I’m close too, baby, just a little more, yeah?” He leans down to kiss you, cradling your face in his hand. Yunho was nothing but your friend just moments ago, and though you’ve never known him to be anything but sweet it still feels too good to be true in this moment. He holds you close, traces his thumb over your cheekbone at the same time as his cock dribbles precum into your pumping hand, and it’s all just unreal. His eyes hold yours, looking at you as you start to unravel, as if you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as if he needs to see this in order to push over the edge himself.

”Yunho, please-” you whine, and you’re not really sure what you’re begging for. It’s just so intense, all of it. He’s looking at you as if you’re the only thing he’s ever loved, as if you’re the most precious thing on earth. You can feel the way it physically tugs at your sternum, settles like hot, warm lava in your chest, some warm and heavy feeling that spreads from limb to limb. This overwhelming love and overwhelming pleasure, pooling and building, threatening to snap at any second.

”Yunho, can I- please, can I cum?”

”Fuck, yeah, yes, cum- gonna cum too, gonna cum with you,” Yunho splutters around the words, rushing them out as he bucks his hips faster into your tight fist, pushing up against your core when he feels your hips start to shudder. It’s all it takes for you to come, clenching your eyes shut despite the way Yunho seems insistent on keeping eye contact, feeling the way your orgasm washes through your body in waves. You’re riding your high when Yunho cums too, moaning your name in jagged breaths as he spills warm, wet cum into your hand. You can feel his heart beat against your chest, and you feel it mirrored in the tip of his dick, pulsating as his cum releases over your hand.

Yunho slumps over you, sticky and sweaty skin sticking to yours as he catches his breath for a second. His thumb still rests on your cheekbone, large hand palming your face. You breathe in, feeling the way your lungs fill with fresh air, mixing with the scent of Yunhos shampoo and sweat. It should probably feel a lot weirder, to lay here with your best friend draped over you, feeling his dick soften against your hip and his cum drying on your hand. Somehow it’s not, not strange or weird or even uncomfortable. Yunho kisses lazily against your neck, and you love him so much your heart feels like it’s too big for your chest.

"Baby," he says, and you hum. He pulls away a little, watching the expression on your face. There are stupid, dopey smiles on both of your faces. "Are you good?"

"So good." you breathe heavily, almost laughing, and it makes Yunho smile too. "Thirsty."

He sits up promptly, climbing off of you to reach over and get a lemonade from the cooler he has brought. He cracks it open for you and when you sit up you make the movement to reach for the can, but he stops you. Instead, he brings it up to your lips and boldly keeps eye contact with you as you take sips of the beverage, gulping it down. He takes a few sips too, and you can feel the cold drink wash away the heat, clearing your head. You sit there for a moment, tasting the lemonade in your mouth, wishing you were tasting his instead. You just watch him, and somehow he’s even more beautiful than he’s ever been before.

"I'm in love with you." you say. Yunho smiles, and he giggles as sweetly as he did in your very first conversation.

"Me too."