Title: Princess Hour
Rating: R / NC-17
Words: approx. 2000
Warnings: Just. Take the rating seriously.
Summary: This is what love is, this warmth and this silence and his arm curled around her bare shoulder.
A/N: The summary should have been, "Jaejoong and Boa have sex." No, seriously. =/ Except it somehow becomes deep.
The clock never nears midnight.
As they kiss, Jaejoong's hand curls around the back of her neck, his fingers brushing against the roots of her hair.
Or, Boa thinks, perhaps kiss is too delicate of a word for this, the way her skull is being pushed back into the cool plaster of the wall, the way her fingers are fisted around the white fabric of his shirt; the way she drags her tongue over the sharp edges of his teeth and he, in response, devours her lips in fervour.
Jaejoong's mouth leaves hers and start to travel up her jaw. Boa's eyes are closed, her breaths laboured, her mind dizzy and incoherent as she feels him softly bite the shell of her ear. Her lips feel sensitive, raw and tingling, and she can't think because Jaejoong – Jaejoong, Jaejoong, Jaejoong – is everywhere, around her waist and under her palms and pressing against every inch of her body.
They are in the hallway and the lights are still off, never having gotten the chance to turn on. The door may be unlocked as well, but right now––
"Bed," breathes Boa, hyperaware of her heartbeat and Jaejoong's thumbs, which have slipped underneath her jeans and are now hot against the skin of her hips. "Bed. Or the couch. Or––"
"The floor," whispers Jaejoong, his hot breath hitting her ear and sending goosebumps down her body.
Boa pulls at his collar and captures his mouth into another kiss, her hands tangled in his dark brown strands. And somehow, impossibly, Jaejoong shifts even closer to her. His palms travel up the back of her jean clad legs, and Boa gasps into his mouth as his fingers bend to cup and squeeze her bottom.
"Oh," she breathes as her stance automatically widens to allow Jaejoong to stand in between her legs. She's ready when he hoists her up and wraps her legs around his waist, her arms finding their place around his neck. She's being held up between the wall and Jaejoong's chest, and damn the world if it's not the only place she wants to be at that moment.
It's been so long since they did this. Boa thinks she's being a little desperate, the way she drinks up the taste of his mouth like it’s the waters of paradise, filling her with life. But it's okay, because it's Jaejoong, and he's desperate too, his hands sliding up the curves of her hips and waist, disappearing under her grey t-shirt. The hem of her top rises as his hands travel further up, each second baring another inch of her stomach, each finger leaving behind burning hot trails on her skin.
She breaks away a few moments later, her breaths harsh and shallow. Jaejoong is still bending down so his forehead touches with hers, and Boa doesn't know what to focus on, the slight parting of his lips or the eyelash that's lying on his cheek.
She slowly, softly reaches forward to brush away the stray eyelash on his face. He blinks and then smiles, and deep affection sweeps through Boa like a like a summer storm, wild and powerful and perhaps a little frantic.
I missed you, she thinks, raising her arms as he slowly tugs her shirt off. Everything is suddenly gentle, from the way his eyes look at nothing but hers, and the movements of his hands, fingers stroking down her shoulder to the strap of her black bra, unhooking the garment and letting it drop to the ground.
She has missed this, missed lowering herself until she's lying on the hardwood floor with Jaejoong's knees on either side of her legs, watching him watch her hands as though they're the most fascinating things on Earth, even though they're doing nothing but unbuttoning his shirt.
He kisses her once on the lips before moving to her chin, her neck, her collarbones. He bites and sucks and licks her skin as his mouth moves down her body, from between her breasts, all the way down to her navel. Sometimes he murmurs words against her body, and Boa hears snatches of, "baby," and, "missed you," and, "love you."
She may be the music princess of Asia, but no one makes her feel more like royalty than Jaejoong does. Not when he shows up at her doorstep in LA in the middle of the night, with not even a suitcase, but a smile and a, "What, aren't you going to invite me in?" Not when he laughs with her and fights with her and makes love with her, not when he asks for her heart and keeps it warm and safe and loved in his possession.
There are shadows under Jaejoong's eyes, tiredness etched across every inch of him that's visible. Boa thinks about the distance from Seoul to Los Angeles, thinks about how Jaejoong arrived in America only two hours ago, and how he has to leave for Korea ten hours from now.
It's a little hard for Boa to understand how someone can do this, leave behind their life for just a few scarce hours in her company. She's not special, not in the way that really matters, but sometimes, the things that Jaejoong does for her, the way that he simply looks at her, makes her feel as though she is.
She halts his hand as they flutter over the button of her pants.
"Let me," she says, voice strangely quiet. She lifts herself up and pushes her palms against his chest, keeps on pushing until he's lying on his back.
His hands stay on her waist as she rids herself of her jeans. They stay there as she rids him of his. She touches his face as she leans down to kiss him, soft and slow and with the curtain of her long hair surrounding them both.
Boa wants to say something like, "I love you," or, "you're wonderful," or, "how can someone like you possibly exist?" But her heart is beating too fast and too heavy and she feels it clogging up her throat. She's so overwhelmed at this moment that she thinks she might start to cry if she starts to talk. Jaejoong erodes away a loneliness inside her that she doesn't even fully comprehend until it's not there anymore, because he took it away.
He replaces it instead with love and comfort and, most importantly, friendship. Because more so than her physical attraction to Jaejoong, it's his heart, Jaejoong's wandering, open heart that Boa cherishes most.
She manages to breathe out a, "thank you," as she kisses down his neck, a thank you for always coming to her when she can't go to him, a thank you for always understanding. He tastes like salt and Jaejoong, and as she nips and sucks on his collarbone, he groans, and a shiver travels down Boa's spine.
Lips are just lips and hands are just hands. But what makes this special is that it's Jaejoong who's attached to those lips, those hands. Boa can't imagine feeling the curls of pleasure and anticipation that are coiling in her stomach had this been anyone else, can't imagine feeling this level of safety and warmth.
She can't imagine letting anyone do what she lets – wants – Jaejoong do to her. His hands move up her bare thighs as her lips move down the flat expanse of his chest. She pauses, closes her eyes when she feels his fingers hook under the elastic of her panties. He slides them down her legs and pushes them off her foot, throwing them heedlessly aside.
She continues to kiss down his stomach, following the line of pale hair that disappears into his boxers, which she pulls down as she reaches them. She doesn't stop in her path of biting the inside of his thighs and kissing the roughness of his knees.
"Come here," says Jaejoong between harsh pants of his breaths, holding out his hand. Boa weaves their fingers together and inches forward until her face is directly above his again.
They kiss for a long time on the floor. They're both naked and prepared for something more, but more isn't needed for Boa to feel the pleasure that's making her curl her toes. Soft moans escape her throat, and she feels more and more wired; a sort of helplessness she's far too familiar with rises with each moment she's pressed against his body.
Jaejoong places one hand between her shoulder blades and the other on her hip before slowly flipping them over. They don't separate their mouths from one another's, not when Boa gasps in pleasure as Jaejoong's hands knead her breasts, not when Jaejoong's concentration falters as Boa reaches down and strokes his hardened cock.
They're not talking much, and they don't have to. The quiet apartment is only filled with the sounds of their breaths and gasps and quiet moans, everything all the more intimate because of their hushed tones.
Jaejoong fumbles for his jeans which lay crumpled beside them, pulls out a condom from the pocket. He's stroking – caressing – the folds of her skin between her legs, and Boa can feel herself getting wetter, wet all over Jaejoong's hands and fingers.
Sex between them is sometimes rough and quick, full of fire and intensity and at the end Boa is breathless with a burnt out memory. This is a bit different – it's intense just the same, but it's a slow build up of anticipation; she feels so good that she can hardly stand it, but at the same time, she doesn’t want it to ever, ever stop.
She never wants Jaejoong to stop.
"I missed you," she says – she whispers – as Jaejoong gets ready to enter her by hoisting her leg over his shoulder. Boa's eyes are closed, and the tears that are gathering in her eyes are from the physical desperation to have him inside her. "It's so lonely here."
It's a hard thing to admit, this weakness that she can sometimes feel eating her up inside. But this is different, this is Jaejoong, the boy who can make her smile and laugh and cry, who before all else is her best friend, the person who takes the most precedence in her heart.
And she knows, understands what a treasure she has managed to find when Jaejoong's tired eyes look at her and soften, and he leans down to press a lingering kiss on her stomach.
"Oh, baby," he says, running his fingers down the inside of her thighs. Her legs, they automatically try to spread even further. She trusts him so much that even she herself can barely understand it. "Why do you think I came?"
Her throat constricts.
"You," she says, and stops, swallowing in an attempt to soothe her suddenly parched throat. "Sometimes," she tries again, pushing herself up and resting on her right elbow as her left hand reaches forward and touches the curve of his jaw. "I––"
The grip that Jaejoong has on her leg tightens as he closes his eyes.
"I know," he says. "Me too. Always."
After, hand in hand, they manage to force themselves up and stumble into bed. On their way they pass her panties which are hanging on a lampshade, and Jaejoong's clean white shirt, which Boa almost trips over. Jaejoong is exhausted and seems to fall asleep by the time his head hits the pillow and Boa smiles as she pulls the heavy comforter on top of them.
She scoots in to lie as close to him as she can, her head resting underneath his chin and arm thrown around his torso. His skin is still hot and they're both sticky, but Boa doesn't mind. With each breath she breathes in the smell of Jaejoong, the mountain scent of his shampoo and the faint hint of his soap infused with the smell of sweat.
Boa sleeps a heavy, peaceful sleep, the type that only happens when Jaejoong is there, warm and familiar beside her. She does dream, however – dreams about living for the day when her life is only about nights like these.
I hope that was okay. I'm not really proud of the ending paragraph, but it's hard writing the closing lines of a story. And as I'm sure some of you could tell, it's my first time writing something like this, though admittedly, it's not nearly as smutty as some of the other fics I've read. =P I was just having something of a het deficit lately.
Please forgive and point out any spelling mistakes because, like always, I'm posting this as soon as I'm done typing it. I did read it over, but I find my eyes tend to skim over small mistakes. =(
For any of you guys who are reading By Any Other Name, I'm so sorry that Chapter 9 isn't up yet. It's just. I literally got back home two weeks ago, and ever since then I've been bombarded with bad news from the K-Pop world: DBSK going on hiatus, Jay leaving 2PM. =( I've been a little sad and unable to find the drive to write, and now school has started and it's hard to find the time to write. And I get that I'm making excuses, but please know that I'm trying my hardest to write it as fast as I can.
Lets always keep the faith and hope everything works out. Good luck to everyone who's back in school like I am! ♥
- Current Mood: tired