Current mood:	amused
Entry tags:	fandom: super junior, pairing: kibum/sungmin

Two can play this game
Kibum/Sungmin
hooker!verse, PG-13-ish, 727 words
stands between halcyon_morn's Challenge and out_of_words24's Bend/Break

Dedicated to the above mentioned two, because they are awesome. ♥





"Yes, what is it?" Kibum asks, and Sungmin can't quite decide if he's happy about him not looking up from his stack of papers or disappointed instead.

"I need some money, if that's possible," Sungmin says, and then he adds; "For decent clothes," cheeks flushing just so, lips pursed in a perfect smile. Kibum is still writing, humming to himself softly and Sungmin is starting to get annoyed, his performance so clever now spoiled.

After what feels like an eternity, Kibum finally speaks, and what he says is; "You should go to Eeteuk with problems like this," but he looks up at Sungmin, a short glance, finally, and Sungmin keeps himself from cheering out loud at the brief pause in Kibum's fluid writing, at the uncertain quiver of the pen poised above paper as Kibum's gaze runs over Sungmin's body with appraisal. "What do you want?"

"I need some money, as I said," Sungmin replies slyly and Kibum looks at him again, really looks at him, then leans back in his seat with a soft sigh, an eyebrow arched in silent question. Sungmin smiles, just plastic enough to be attractive. "No, actually, I just wanted to thank you."

Kibum runs his tongue over his teeth, contemplating, his smile too wide, too pretty to be anything but fake.

"You already did."

"I want to do it properly," Sungmin insists, trying to keep still as his blood rushes through his veins too fast, too loud in his own ears, because this—this one thing, you never tell a man. Now, though, now might be just the time when playing it safe would compromise the challenge and Sungmin doesn't want that; can't let that happen. "I'll do anything you want me to."

"Really. Anything I want."

Sungmin nods, the motion just eager enough to be pleasing, hair flying in his eyes.

"Anything."

Kibum's smile widens a friction—if that's even possible­­—the rigid line of his shoulders loosening a bit.

"Come here," he says softly and Sungmin walks over, not too fast, not too slow, his hips swaying ever so slightly with his steps.

"Sit on the desk," Kibum commands in the same gentle tone of voice (and Sungmin thinks gentle might isn't the good word for it; it's something darker and thicker, like chocolate and the black of Kibum's eyes).

Sungmin gasps as Kibum leans in and mouths the smooth skin of his hip peeking out between waistband and the hem of his t-shirt, traces the light curve of bone with lips and tongue, all hot breath and aching slowness.

"Take off your shirt," Kibum whispers and Sungmin does, slowly, arching his back, letting the sleek light and shadow of Kibum's office play over his tight stomach, Kibum's eyes heavy on every twitch of his muscles as he runs the palms of his hands over Sungmin's knees, up his thighs, the tips of his fingers caressing denim and the sensitive skin underneath. Sungmin can feel himself grow hard against his zipper, and then Kibum kisses his hip again, and then the other one, and Sungmin thinks he's probably never felt this hot in his life, never wanted anyone as much as he wants Kibum, his cool smile and thick cock and liquid eyes, understated, dangerous beauty.

"And now," Kibum is whispering, hot against Sungmin's stomach and Sungmin isn't sure he knows how he looks anymore­, already lost control over the small whimpers he makes every time Kibum's lips brush his skin, "now be a good boy and get me some coffee."

Sungmin freezes, his whole world coming to what he's sure is an epic halt.

"What?" he gasps, because he couldn't possibly just hear what he thinks he did.

"Black, no sugar," Kibum adds as an afterthought, leaning back in his seat contentedly. "Preferably sometime today."

"I-" Sungmin blinks, closes his mouth. "You're serious."

"Oh, quite," Kibum assures him with a contended smile.

Sungmin wants to be angry, wants to feel ridiculed with his shirt lying discarded on the floor and his cheeks burning with arousal. Sungmin wants to cry, wants to shout, wants to pout and plead until Kibum takes him in his arms and kisses it all better and fucks Sungmin the way Sungmin wants him to, but-

Sungmin smirks, hopping off the table. He leans down for his shirt, pulls it over his head carelessly.

"No sugar."

"Nope."

"As you wish."

Sungmin bows, eyes averted, smile too sharp to be anything but real.