i'm yours tonight / pg / 5800+ words
they pretend that they're friends with benefits but they're not even friends.
“I’ll get going,” Yunho said. He emerged from the hotel bathroom, cap slung low over his face.
“Your phone,” Ryeowook reminded, still curled beneath the linen covers. He rolled to the side, the blanket slipping low to reveal the curve of his bottom before reaching for the Samsung and handing it to Yunho.
“Thanks,” Yunho said, grabbing it from his outstretched hand.
“Hyung, this can’t go on forever,” Ryeowook said. His fingers were still clasping the device.
“I know, I won’t leave my things everywhere. I’m sorry,” Yunho apologized.
“That’s not it,” Ryeowook sighed and Yunho only laughed. Seeing Ryeowook’s hesitant expression, he sat himself on the bed, head cocked to the side.
“Isn’t this already an ideal arrangement?” Yunho reasoned, “It’s working perfect.”
“It’s not viable,” Ryeowook said stubbornly.
“You’re being vague.”
“You can’t just sleep with me until your career ends.”
“Of course, I can just sleep with you until my career ends.”
Ryeowook furrowed his eyebrows at the misplacement of his emphasis.
“How about this?” Yunho offered, looking at Ryeowook straight in the eye, “We’ll keep this going till either one of us gets bored, enters the army, meets someone new or falls in love. Then, this ends. Deal?”
Ryeowook wanted to tell him that was not what he meant but before he could respond, Yunho leaned over, sweeping a thumb over Ryeowook’s cheek before pressing his lips to his forehead.
“I’m only exclusive to you, Ryeowook. Promise,” Yunho whispered into his ear before heading for the door.
Emotions are not a constant variable, that was what Ryeowook meant to say. Desires may spiral into boredom. Desires can also lead to something more.
Judging by the burn in his cheek from the touch of Yunho’s lips, Ryeowook had every reason to be afraid.
Months wore on and their urgency took a turn as kisses became more languid and eye-contact became as instinctive as second nature. There were stretches of time where either one of them would be out of the country, though both would agree that Ryeowook's month-long activities with Super Junior M took the worst toll on them. Perhaps it was true what they said, that absence makes the heart grow fonder, for it was during such periods of distance that allowed them room to ponder about the sinews and skeleton of their relationship and what they truly meant to each other.
“Slow down,” Yunho whispered when Ryeowook greeted him with a kiss the moment the hotel door clicked shut.
“What took you so long?” Ryeowook said breathlessly, "My plane touched down a couple of hours ago."
“I’m sorry,” Yunho managed a wan smile before taking the singer by the wrist. They sat, fully-clothed on the bed.
“Had a haircut?” Ryeowook questioned as he kneeled before him, fingers brushing the short untamed tresses of his hair.
Yunho nodded silently, catching his hand before leaning in to kiss him, lazy and gentle. A hand rested against the small of his back and Ryeowook sighed, arching involuntarily as Yunho kissed a slow path down his neck.
Yunho paused, slowly undoing the buttons of Ryeowook’s shirt, exposing the pale flesh of his chest and the unsuspecting pectoral muscles defined beneath. The singer watched, hazy-eyed and enraptured as Yunho traced the impressions marking his stomach, before slipping the shirt off his frame.
Ryeowook could not explain the sudden shyness that overcame his body, skin prickling with nervousness as though he was being seen for the first time. A scarlet blush fanned his cheeks as Yunho’s eyes swept over the bareness of his torso, breathing as still as the absolute focus in his eyes. It was the same focus he had when he danced, when he sang, when he performed--the blaze in his footfalls and the strain in his voice reducing his surroundings to insignificance as he swept across the stage like a hurricane of passion.
This had to be the first time a person was looking at him with such an intensity and when Yunho’s eyes sought his, Ryeowook became consciously aware of the pounding hammering in his chest. So he tipped Yunho’s chin and gently cradled his cheek, sealing the moment with a kiss, deep and as wholehearted as he could.
To his surprise, it was Yunho who pulled away, laying his forehead onto Ryeowook’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Yunho whispered and Ryeowook could feel the flutter of his lashes against his bare skin as he shut his eyes.
Ryeowook knitted his eyebrows, confused.
“Do you want to be alone?”
“Don’t go,” Yunho whispered, “Please.”
Ryeowook allowed himself to lay on his side, hands folded beneath his cheeks despite not feeling the least bit sleepy. There were dark circles shadowing Yunho's eyes but he comforted himself with the steady rise and fall of Yunho’s chest with every pull of his breath.
It was not his place—Ryeowook did not know, could not ask what was wrong. Part of him was disappointed at Yunho’s sudden reticence, a larger part of him nagged with an emotion that felt strangely like worry. Well, it had to be worry, Ryeowook swallowed, disturbed by the frown creasing Yunho’s forehead as he slept. Not being able to sleep was abnormal enough for a superstar with a fifteen-hour schedule but the fact that he was being kept awake because Yunho was obviously troubled, nagged him more.
It was then that he felt something amiss, like a wrinkle to this relationship he had not considered. That despite how well everything was working, it was begging to be completed.
"I've missed you," Yunho admitted softly the moment Ryeowook awoke the next morning.
"Missed you, too," Ryeowook whispered in a heartbeat.
"Sorry about last night."
"Don't scare me like that again, will you?"
They gave each other tiny smiles, legs looped around each other beneath the blanket.
Later, Ryeowook would find out, that that was the night Yunho was struggling with coming to terms with being in love.
At the next company party, Ryeowook slipped Yunho a text message reminding him of their meeting. Yunho had searched his eyes from across the corner of the room, giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement before continuing to dance with BoA, crescent eyes and airy laughter making the men around her sigh. She leaned up to fondle Yunho’s cheek before looping an arm around his waist, steering him towards the open bar.
Ryeowook left the party.
“Why did you go?” Yunho had asked that night.
“The party was torture,” Ryeowook said absently. Yunho’s heartbeat casted a steady rhythm against his back but it was far from reassuring.
“It wasn’t because of me dancing with BoA-noona, was it?” Yunho asked quietly. A hand calmly swept across Ryeowook’s stomach, stroking the fine trail of hair leading to the base of his abdomen.
“She seems pretty infatuated with you,” Ryeowook said matter-of-factly.
“It’s pretty obvious she likes me.”
“Then, we can’t be lovers anymore,” Ryeowook firmly concluded.
“The feeling may not be mutual, you know.”
“Hypothetically, it could be.”
“You can’t stand the thought of me cheating on you?”
“It’s not cheating if you love her.” Because I’ll let you go.
Yunho kept silent, pondering, “I guess you’re right.”
“There’s a better way to end this if that’s what—”
“I don’t want out.”
Yunho turned to his side and Ryeowook swallowed, partly afraid they were going to sleep like that. Ryeowook could feel tears prickling the lids of his eyes as he pieced an apology in his head, unbeknownst to the fact that Yunho was fiddling with his iPod until a slow song filled the quiet of the dark.
To much protest, Yunho tugged Ryeowook by the hand.
“We’re exclusive, remember?” Yunho whispered, firmly locking an arm around his waist. Ryeowook wanted to scream at what that word meant to them now but Yunho was humming in his ear and nuzzling at his hair.
They swayed, bedsheets wound around their bodies and Ryeowook finally relented, fitting his chin against Yunho’s collarbone and concentrating his gaze heavenwards, careful to keep his tears from marring his skin as he held on.