KPop: Let it Burn (Jiyong/ Seungri, NC-17)
Sep. 2nd, 2011 01:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maayacolabackupTitle:Let it Burn
Rating:NC-17
Pairing:Jiyong/ Seungri
Summary: Seungri is prettiest when he cries.
Notes: Because I asked Ri for GD/Seungri, and realized I'd never written any myself. I wanted to write something...fluffy...and...well.
Sometimes, Jiyong looks in the mirror and he wants to scream, because he's trapped inside a cage of his own creation and the bars are so tight around him it feels impossible to breathe.
When he does a solo CD, he dyes his hair platinum blond, wears bright make-up, and does obscene things onstage that get him chastised by people all over Korea, and it doesn't matter, because whatever Jiyong touches turns to gold.
Jiyong can cover himself in things that shine and things that shimmer, too, but no matter how gilded, a cage is still a cage, and Jiyong won't ever be escaping, until he is old and gray and forgotten.
And when he showers, and the glitter and hairspray run down his body and into the drain of the shower, and all the pretty is washed away, Jiyong doesn't feel any different.
The worst part of it all is that even though Jiyong feels paralyzed by the weight of everyone's gaze on him, pinning him under the brutal spotlight, sometimes, all the time, Jiyong loves every second of it.
Seungri seems to understand. Jiyong pretends like Seungri understands it all. It makes him feel less guilty.
***
Seungri's mouth is the forbidden fruit, he fucking knows better than to touch, but he is Eve, and the apple is so sweet, and Jiyong tries without success to feel ashamed as the juice runs down his face and drips onto his chest.
"Hyung," Seungri says, and his voice is excited. "Hyung!"
Jiyong looks at Seungri, and he feels overwhelmed by his optimism, by his joy. It's as if Jiyong is the dark and Seungri is the light, and Seungri is so pretty when he smiles.
It's so easy to take from Seungri, because he's eager to please, and Jiyong is the person he wants to please the most.
Jiyong doesn't know why he wants to make Seungri hurt, why he wants to kiss him so hard his lips bruise and claw red lines down his back, lines so deep the old ones are still visible when Jiyong creates new ones.
Jiyong is an artist, and Seungri's body is his canvas, and Jiyong's greedy fingers paint bruises and pleasures across Seungri's fevered skin, and Seungri moans his name, his title, aloud in long, low moans as Jiyong fucks him deep as he can go.
Seungri always says "I love you," and Jiyong never says it back.
Seungri is prettiest when he cries.
***
"I'm really fucked up," Jiyong tells Seungri one day as they lie naked against Jiyong's white sheets, legs tangled together and chests rising and falling as one.
"Aren't we all?" Seungri replies, and Jiyong drags his calloused fingers along the smooth line of Seungri's jaw.
"Not you," Jiyong says. "I haven't ruined you yet."
"You won't ruin me," Seungri whispers, his fingers trailing up the length of Jiyong's arm and gliding along the pale skin of his shoulder. "I'm not that easy to break."
Jiyong disagrees, because he watches Seungri fracture under the weight of Jiyong's taking, a little more every day, and he wonders if in the end, there will be anything left to take.
***
Seungri's eyes are transparent, his every emotion written across the angle of his lashes and the size of his iris, and when he's sad, the corners tilt downwards.
Seungri is sad a lot these days, and Jiyong can guess why, but he can't stop reaching for Seungri in the dark.
Seungri's aching gasps and needy groans are like the jangling keys to his cage, and when Seungri comes undone beneath him, Jiyong feels like he's flying free.
***
Jiyong doesn't like it when other people touch Seungri, or when Seungri touches other people.
When he feels jealous, he bites his way down to Seungri's chest, nipping angrily at his nipples and stroking leisurely with his small hand up and down Seungri's cock, until Seungri begs him to come.
The more jealous he is, the more he makes Seungri beg, because he likes that this, this moment, is something over which he has complete control.
It's an anchor in the chaos, and as he makes Seungri burn, he burns too, and at least they are burning together.
***
Seungri likes it best when Jiyong kisses him long and slow early in the morning, hair wet from the shower and skin free of products or scents.
Jiyong likes it best in the bathroom, backstage after a show, when Seungri smells like sweat and hairspray and triumph, eye liner and mascara bleeding around his eyes, and Seungri tilts his head back with parted lips as Jiyong pounds into him against the cold plaster wall, sneakers squeaking on the ceramic tile.
***
It's so easy to take, from Seungri, because he's so damn eager to please.
"Hyung," he whispers, when Jiyong pulls him close and claims his mouth. Seungri's lips part without hesitation, accepting Jiyong with only a small whimper of surprise as Jiyong's tongue slides against his own. Seungri is always accepting him, just the way he is, and sometimes, Jiyong thinks he could love him.
But most of the time, Jiyong knows the truth-- he doesn't love anything but the furious screaming of the fans and singing to a sold-out stadium, the burn in his eyes after four days without sleep as he struggles to meet impossible deadlines, and the feeling of sweat and make-up rolling down his neck under hot white lights.
He doesn't hate anything but that, either.
Seungri melts into him, though, and Jiyong craves the feeling of Seungri's soft skin brushing against his own as Jiyong kisses his way down his chest to his cock. Jiyong craves the mewling sounds Seungri makes when Jiyong puts his mouth on Seungri's erection, tongue toying with the head as he applies suction to the sensitive underside. Jiyong craves the gentle upward rocking of Seungri's hips as Jiyong circles the rim of his entrance with an unhesitating finger, and the way Seungri's body gives to that finger when it pushes its way inside of him. He craves the way Seungri's body molds around his cock, and the way Seungri gasps as Jiyong thrusts into him, too hard and too fast.
He craves the way he feels when he comes, too, and maybe, just maybe, he craves the way Seungri's arms wrap around him, and the way Seungri always pretends he can't see Jiyong crying.
"I love you," Seungri says, and Jiyong doesn't say anything at all, but Seungri doesn't demand anything from him. Seungri never demands anything from him at all, and maybe Jiyong craves that most of all.
Sometimes, when Seungri sleeps, Jiyong takes slow measured breaths and lets his eyes trace the curve of Seungri's lips and the fall of his hair against his forehead. He curls his body into Seungri's and laces their fingers together, and swallows hard when Seungri turns his body toward him, opposite arm wrapping around Jiyong's waist, lying heavy and warm.
And maybe Seungri is prettiest when he loves.
Rating:NC-17
Pairing:Jiyong/ Seungri
Summary: Seungri is prettiest when he cries.
Notes: Because I asked Ri for GD/Seungri, and realized I'd never written any myself. I wanted to write something...fluffy...and...well.
Sometimes, Jiyong looks in the mirror and he wants to scream, because he's trapped inside a cage of his own creation and the bars are so tight around him it feels impossible to breathe.
When he does a solo CD, he dyes his hair platinum blond, wears bright make-up, and does obscene things onstage that get him chastised by people all over Korea, and it doesn't matter, because whatever Jiyong touches turns to gold.
Jiyong can cover himself in things that shine and things that shimmer, too, but no matter how gilded, a cage is still a cage, and Jiyong won't ever be escaping, until he is old and gray and forgotten.
And when he showers, and the glitter and hairspray run down his body and into the drain of the shower, and all the pretty is washed away, Jiyong doesn't feel any different.
The worst part of it all is that even though Jiyong feels paralyzed by the weight of everyone's gaze on him, pinning him under the brutal spotlight, sometimes, all the time, Jiyong loves every second of it.
Seungri seems to understand. Jiyong pretends like Seungri understands it all. It makes him feel less guilty.
***
Seungri's mouth is the forbidden fruit, he fucking knows better than to touch, but he is Eve, and the apple is so sweet, and Jiyong tries without success to feel ashamed as the juice runs down his face and drips onto his chest.
"Hyung," Seungri says, and his voice is excited. "Hyung!"
Jiyong looks at Seungri, and he feels overwhelmed by his optimism, by his joy. It's as if Jiyong is the dark and Seungri is the light, and Seungri is so pretty when he smiles.
It's so easy to take from Seungri, because he's eager to please, and Jiyong is the person he wants to please the most.
Jiyong doesn't know why he wants to make Seungri hurt, why he wants to kiss him so hard his lips bruise and claw red lines down his back, lines so deep the old ones are still visible when Jiyong creates new ones.
Jiyong is an artist, and Seungri's body is his canvas, and Jiyong's greedy fingers paint bruises and pleasures across Seungri's fevered skin, and Seungri moans his name, his title, aloud in long, low moans as Jiyong fucks him deep as he can go.
Seungri always says "I love you," and Jiyong never says it back.
Seungri is prettiest when he cries.
***
"I'm really fucked up," Jiyong tells Seungri one day as they lie naked against Jiyong's white sheets, legs tangled together and chests rising and falling as one.
"Aren't we all?" Seungri replies, and Jiyong drags his calloused fingers along the smooth line of Seungri's jaw.
"Not you," Jiyong says. "I haven't ruined you yet."
"You won't ruin me," Seungri whispers, his fingers trailing up the length of Jiyong's arm and gliding along the pale skin of his shoulder. "I'm not that easy to break."
Jiyong disagrees, because he watches Seungri fracture under the weight of Jiyong's taking, a little more every day, and he wonders if in the end, there will be anything left to take.
***
Seungri's eyes are transparent, his every emotion written across the angle of his lashes and the size of his iris, and when he's sad, the corners tilt downwards.
Seungri is sad a lot these days, and Jiyong can guess why, but he can't stop reaching for Seungri in the dark.
Seungri's aching gasps and needy groans are like the jangling keys to his cage, and when Seungri comes undone beneath him, Jiyong feels like he's flying free.
***
Jiyong doesn't like it when other people touch Seungri, or when Seungri touches other people.
When he feels jealous, he bites his way down to Seungri's chest, nipping angrily at his nipples and stroking leisurely with his small hand up and down Seungri's cock, until Seungri begs him to come.
The more jealous he is, the more he makes Seungri beg, because he likes that this, this moment, is something over which he has complete control.
It's an anchor in the chaos, and as he makes Seungri burn, he burns too, and at least they are burning together.
***
Seungri likes it best when Jiyong kisses him long and slow early in the morning, hair wet from the shower and skin free of products or scents.
Jiyong likes it best in the bathroom, backstage after a show, when Seungri smells like sweat and hairspray and triumph, eye liner and mascara bleeding around his eyes, and Seungri tilts his head back with parted lips as Jiyong pounds into him against the cold plaster wall, sneakers squeaking on the ceramic tile.
***
It's so easy to take, from Seungri, because he's so damn eager to please.
"Hyung," he whispers, when Jiyong pulls him close and claims his mouth. Seungri's lips part without hesitation, accepting Jiyong with only a small whimper of surprise as Jiyong's tongue slides against his own. Seungri is always accepting him, just the way he is, and sometimes, Jiyong thinks he could love him.
But most of the time, Jiyong knows the truth-- he doesn't love anything but the furious screaming of the fans and singing to a sold-out stadium, the burn in his eyes after four days without sleep as he struggles to meet impossible deadlines, and the feeling of sweat and make-up rolling down his neck under hot white lights.
He doesn't hate anything but that, either.
Seungri melts into him, though, and Jiyong craves the feeling of Seungri's soft skin brushing against his own as Jiyong kisses his way down his chest to his cock. Jiyong craves the mewling sounds Seungri makes when Jiyong puts his mouth on Seungri's erection, tongue toying with the head as he applies suction to the sensitive underside. Jiyong craves the gentle upward rocking of Seungri's hips as Jiyong circles the rim of his entrance with an unhesitating finger, and the way Seungri's body gives to that finger when it pushes its way inside of him. He craves the way Seungri's body molds around his cock, and the way Seungri gasps as Jiyong thrusts into him, too hard and too fast.
He craves the way he feels when he comes, too, and maybe, just maybe, he craves the way Seungri's arms wrap around him, and the way Seungri always pretends he can't see Jiyong crying.
"I love you," Seungri says, and Jiyong doesn't say anything at all, but Seungri doesn't demand anything from him. Seungri never demands anything from him at all, and maybe Jiyong craves that most of all.
Sometimes, when Seungri sleeps, Jiyong takes slow measured breaths and lets his eyes trace the curve of Seungri's lips and the fall of his hair against his forehead. He curls his body into Seungri's and laces their fingers together, and swallows hard when Seungri turns his body toward him, opposite arm wrapping around Jiyong's waist, lying heavy and warm.
And maybe Seungri is prettiest when he loves.
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Date: 2012-03-01 01:57 pm (UTC)love this line.
I think gri can never be just fluffy, angst always creeps in somehow and this fic is beautiful. the characterizations are absolutely perfect. seungri ♥