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catskilt
eunhyuk/donghae
nc-17, 3455 words, au
donghae is a gangster, and hyukjae's a cop, and they're engaging in a thrilling car chase, and of course nothing is as it seems.
the ceci mag photoshoot was really just my excuse to write cliched car porn.
run mad as often as you choose but do not faint
Eighty kilometres an hour and Donghae's out of Seoul, speeding on an expressway bound for Incheon. The audio level of his music is so loud that the car practically rattles with it. He doesn't care. He wants it to be louder, so loud, in fact, that the cop tailing him will be able to hear it. Though there's a high possibility that they might, in fact, be listening to the same songs – after all, he'd given Hyukjae the playlist entitled 'For Car Chases' just a month ago.
"'Poker Face'?" Hyukjae had said while scrolling through the songs. "Really?"
"It's appropriate," Donghae had argued. "You're chasing me, I'm being chased, you can't read my, can't read my poker face."
"Except I can't read your face in any case since I would be behind you," Hyukjae pointed out.
Hyukjae is always like this, pointing out all these irritating and trivial discrepancies of Donghae's generous gifts. Donghae hadn't bothered to argue in that instance; they'd been in a hotel room, after all, a very expensive one in Macau that came with a Jacuzzi and balcony attached, and Donghae had been more interested in testing out Hyukjae's stamina over the course of three days than engaging in logistical arguments. Hyukjae passed his test with flying colours, as he does in everything, and Donghae's quite happy now when he checks his rear-view mirror and finds Hyukjae still dutifully following him. Hyukjae is hard to lose when he's chasing you. It's one of his many talents that Donghae particularly admires.
So when he makes an abrupt exit off the expressway, he knows beyond a doubt that Hyukjae, with his lightning quick reflexes, will swerve in after him and avoid hitting any vehicle or barrier that might get in the way of their merry chase. And Donghae just loves the string of expletives that he can practically hear Hyukjae spitting out at him from behind. He flashes his signal lights in response, because it's polite to respond when someone's having such fond thoughts of you.
They're on a small road now, passing by worn-out looking shops and houses, and Donghae searches for a little alley that he's used before to hide from chasing authorities. He locates it in the space between two boarded up shops and, with a quick glance in the rear-view mirror again to ensure that Hyukjae's following close enough, turns quickly into it and backs his car up against a wall.
The music cuts off along with the engine and he hears the car wheels on the gravel, screeching as it slides in just behind him. There's a momentary lull, then a car door slams shut and Donghae checks his hair in the mirror as he waits. He isn't disappointed. Hyukjae appears at his window approximately ten seconds later, frowning, and Donghae opens the door and points a gun right at his gut.
"Hello, officer," he says, flashing what he deems his most leery grin.
"Fuck you," Hyukjae growls. "I almost knocked into the barrier when you took that exit and I almost ran into the building when you turned into this alley. You're officially the worst driver I've ever come across. The first thing I'm going to do when I get back to the department is to request to be taken off this case. Your case, to be specific."
"What, and miss out on all our thrilling car chases?"
"I choose life over excitement."
"You're not very nice to me today," Donghae says with a mock pout, stroking Hyukjae's hip with the barrel of his pistol. "I ditched my members in a motel on the pretext of protecting them from you and took us all the way out of Seoul just because I thought you wanted to have some time alone with me. But now it seems that I was wrong."
Hyukjae just glares at him. "This was my off day, you asshole, and you had to plan that meeting with the Hong Kong mafia on this very day…"
"Oh," Donghae says, suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry. But isn't Wednesday your off day?"
"No, it got changed to Friday. I told you in Macau, but you weren't listening."
Donghae groans and reaches over to tuck his pistol back in his glove compartment. "I'm really sorry, Hyuk. I was kind of occupied in Macau, you know. Did you have a hot date lined up for today?"
"Yes," Hyukjae deadpans even as Donghae hooks his legs around Hyukjae's knees and pulls him closer.
"Who with?" Donghae purrs, unfastening the button of Hyukjae's jeans.
"This incredibly sexy new guy at our accounting department. He drives like a sane person. He doesn't engage in illegal activities."
"Dating your co-workers now, Hyukjae? I would've thought that the police force doesn't allow intra-office dating."
"Well," Hyukjae admits, "it doesn't."
"Well then." Donghae succeeds in unzipping Hyukjae's jeans and pushing them down far enough to dip a finger under the band of his Calvin Klein briefs. "Guess you'd better stop seeing him then."
"Thanks for the advice on my love life," Hyukjae says, putting his hands on Donghae's shoulders, "but I don't think it's any of your business. He's got everything going for him anyway, including being a good lay."
"Far be it from me to dictate who you should or shouldn't sleep with," Donghae says cheerfully, but he pushes Hyukjae's briefs out of the way with more vehemence that he would normally demonstrate under similar circumstances. A vehemence that he regards as well-earned considering the fact that he'd been the one to take Hyukjae's virginity away at seventeen – and, of course, vice versa – and that he is, without a doubt, Hyukjae's most reliable and satisfying source of sexual gratification, regardless of how many incredibly sexy guys there are in the accounting department. That has been the status quo for years, and Donghae intends to keep it that way.
Hyukjae holds his already erect cock loosely at the base and rubs the head across Donghae's cheek, leaving a smear of pre-come on his face. Donghae doesn't mind. He'd almost caused Hyukjae to drive right into a barrier on an expressway after all; Hyukjae's letting him off easy. He locks his ankles more firmly around Hyukjae's calves and bats Hyukjae's hands away from his cock, sending a quick wink up before wrapping his lips around the head of Hyukjae's glorious cock.
"Like it?" Hyukjae asks, and Donghae makes an affirmative sound, his eyes sliding close in pleasure at the familiar heaviness on his tongue. The first time he'd given Hyukjae a blow job had been on Hyukjae's eighteenth birthday when Heechul, the infamous playboy in their school, had told him that a blow job was better than penetration. Donghae doesn't really agree with that, but it suffices to say that after the first experiment, several more had been carried out and Hyukjae said once that Donghae has an oral fixation.
"You have an anal one," Donghae said in response.
"You do know that the anal fixation you're thinking of is not quite the same fixation that Freud was thinking of," Hyukjae said, but Donghae just laughed at him.
But Donghae does, does enjoy this power over Hyukjae, this ability to make him come undone just by the movements of his mouth. Hyukjae's beginning to thrust into his mouth now, tiny little thrusts, and he senses tension in the fingers that are tangling in his hair and tension in the flexing of Hyukjae's thighs. He briefly considers pushing Hyukjae over the edge just like this, having the sweetish and somehow strangely addicting texture of Hyukjae's come in his mouth, but abandons it in the next second – he wants to be fucked, and he's not entirely sure that Hyukjae can get it up again quickly enough after he comes. Long-term satisfaction in favour of short-term, Donghae decides, and pulls away from Hyukjae's cock to a very unhappy whine.
"Don't look so angry," Donghae says sweetly, pressing a quick kiss to Hyukjae's leaking tip before working to pull off his own pants. "I remembered to bring lube this time, so we're going to use it – I know you won't have any complaints."
"I need to be out of here in precisely seven minutes," Hyukjae says. His cock is swollen and red and gorgeous and Donghae can't help leaning forward to tongue it again. It has been a long failing of his, this inability to stay for prolonged periods away from Hyukjae's cock, and it has caused him several instances of inconvenience and frustration, much like now. He doesn't allow himself to think, of course, that what keeps him bouncing back to Hyukjae time and again like a rubber band stretched to its limit is that Hyukjae himself is the one stretching that band and then releasing the ends, not Hyukjae's cock, nor his arms, nor legs, nor any part of his unapologetically beautiful body really – but that's all unimportant anyway, in the general scheme of things. Once, a long time ago, Donghae had moved out of his apartment without notifying Hyukjae and changed his phone number at the expense of a penalty by his telephone company. He'd been adamant, very adamant indeed, commendably adamant, to be the one dictating his own rubber band fate, which included not spending nights hankering after his high school sweetheart and most definitely not fantasising about fucking that particular sweetheart in a bathtub, or a balcony, or an interrogation room, or anywhere, actually. That resolution had lasted a total of three months before Hyukjae found him again during a police raid on gang-owned brothels and Donghae had looked up at him with his arms around two extremely pretty, extremely sexy prostitutes – nobody could ever accuse Donghae of not having very good gangster business acumen – and known that if there was anyone he was going to be fucking that night, it would be Hyukjae and not these physically superior prostitutes.
And that had been that, really.
He retrieves the lube from the ever-useful glove compartment and holds it out to Hyukjae, who doesn't waste any time uncapping it and pouring a very liberal amount over his fingers. Donghae takes off his pants and underwear completely and suggests, "Let's emigrate to the backseat", which they do without question since they're lacking time – usually they prefer a little more argument, a "I'm dominating this cultural exchange and you'd just have to learn to deal with it", since it makes things more lively, particularly if you've already been at it all day and your partner is hot and sticky and vocally averse to the idea of putting his dick in your ass one more time, but one has to be practical in situations where one is facing a tight deadline. Donghae balances himself on his hands and knees and does not, absolutely does not, buck back into Hyukjae's finger with a groan when it slips past the resistance of his muscle into his body. Hyukjae adds a second finger and Donghae just really, really wants to get himself off on those pretty fingers of Hyukjae's, the same fingers that had once fastened themselves around his throat during a heated threat of "Leave me alone or I'll put you behind bars, don't think I won't do it", but he manages to restrain himself until Hyukjae puts in a third.
"Goddamn it, Hyukjae," he wheezes, turning his head to glare at Hyukjae over his shoulder, "you know that I never need a third finger. Will you just put your cock in and fuck me now, you fucking tease."
"You're in a congenial mood today, I must say," Hyukjae remarks, but since time is running out for wisecracks, he withdraws his fingers and Donghae, shivering with the ache of emptiness in his ass, scrambles back to pull Hyukjae down onto the seat. Hyukjae settles down quickly and holds out his arms in a gesture of affection – old habits die hard, especially habits that are fuelled by certain feelings and a considerable amount of history – and Donghae puts one arm around Hyukjae's neck, grips the base of Hyukjae's cock with his other hand and lowers himself down, slowly, squeezing his eyes shut with the pleasure of that throbbing thickness sliding into him.
When he rolls his hips, there's a gurgled sound in Hyukjae's throat, a mingling of pleasure and desire and pain, and Donghae doesn't look into Hyukjae's eyes in those initial moments of nakedness, presses his face against Hyukjae's instead and breathes into his hair as he moves. Hyukjae drives his fingers into Donghae's hips wordlessly and bites his shoulder, and when he lets out a long breath that Donghae has heard countless times over the course of their years of lovemaking and has come to recognise as an indication that it's safe to look into Hyukjae's eyes again, he pulls back and smirks at him. "Are you sure you still want to be taken off my case? I have several more exciting experiences lined up for you, you know."
"I've practically written the email already," Hyukjae says, moving his hands to the swell of Donghae's buttocks to push him more deeply onto his cock. "Would be a shame to delete it."
"But – very – necessary – to – your sex life," Donghae says between his gasps. There are approximately three minutes remaining on their clock and he doesn't put it past Hyukjae to push him off and walk away when the time is up with little regard for whether or not they've reached their climaxes yet. Hyukjae can be a conscientious bastard like that. He digs his fingers into Hyukjae's skin and opens his mouth for air, perspiration beginning to roll down the line of his neck, and he can't restrain the groan that drags itself out of his throat when Hyukjae mouths his Adam's apple.
Hyukjae opens his mouth to say something but Donghae shoves his tongue in instead, kissing a bruise onto his mouth, a bruise that hopefully Hyukjae will have to think of creative explanations for when he returns to his department. He rolls his hips again and hits the spot that he's been looking for, the one that flares feeling to every cell in his body and makes him shout into Hyukjae's mouth, and at that moment he forgets everything but the intense pleasure concentrated in his groin, the only region in his body that matters right now, the area that Hyukjae's occupying with increasing strength and depth, increasing speed; and Donghae barely processes it when Hyukjae manoeuvres him onto the seat and pulls his legs up on his shoulders.
"Hold on," Hyukjae says slightly teasingly, his eyes twinkling, and Donghae does hold on, does put his arms around Hyukjae and hold him like he's everything in the world, or maybe the only thing that has any real worth. Their shirts grow damp between them as Hyukjae fucks him so hard that the entire car shudders, drives again and again at that spot inside him, and he trembles and cries out and grips his legs himself, holding them out of Hyukjae's way. Hyukjae's panting and he's panting and he feels the roughness of Hyukjae's fingers pushing his shirt up so that he can caress the clenched muscles on Donghae's stomach.
"So – fucking – good," Hyukjae gasps into his ear, and Donghae agrees, leaves marks and bites and bruises all the way from Hyukjae's shoulders to the base of his spine. Sex with Hyukjae always gives him the sensation of freedom and release, and though he considers both of them free men bound merely by their personal uncontrollable and illogical desires, this feeling of freedom comes only in the coupling with Hyukjae, the intensity of their physical intimacy.
"Come," he breathes, putting both hands on either side of Hyukjae's face and looking directly into his eyes. "Come in me."
Hyukjae moans helplessly and Donghae moves his hands to his ass, gripping it as Hyukjae begins thrusting at a frantic, almost indiscernible pace, hips snapping back and forth until Donghae comes without being touched, comes so violently that his head knocks against the car door and he only vaguely registers Hyukjae shuddering against him, panting into his ear as a familiar heat fills his insides and they hold on to each other in this moment of complete, untarnished, artless joy.
Hyukjae has pulled out and fastened his jeans before Donghae has fully come down from his high. He lies weakly on the backseat, shirt scrunched up around his chest and come leaking out of his ass and smeared all over his stomach, staring silently at Hyukjae as he straightens his clothes and smoothens down his hair.
"Got to go," Hyukjae says, and indicates his watch with a grin. "Seven minutes exactly. We're getting rather good at this, aren't we?"
"I always said I was a professional," Donghae says. "So does this mean you're letting me go?"
"Come to think of it, taking you back with me would be the easiest thing," Hyukjae says. "My car is blocking yours, so you can't make a quick getaway, and you're completely defenceless now, because face it, I can get that gun out of the glove compartment way before you can even reach over for it…"
"Try me."
"And I have my own gun, anyway, which means that if you make a move to shoot me I can shoot you back in self-defence. I have all the evidence of your meeting with the Hong Kong mafia and we've managed to nab some of their henchmen who probably wouldn't have any qualms in testifying against you."
Donghae nods, sadly.
"So really, arresting you right now would be the easiest, most fuss-free experience of my police career."
"Right," Donghae agrees amicably.
"Well," says Hyukjae, turning away, "try not to break too many traffic laws on your way to Incheon."
Donghae sits up. "Hyukjae?"
"What? If I don't leave in the next one minute…"
"Do you have any tissues?"
"Don't even try to use that delay tactic on me," Hyukjae calls back over his shoulder. "You have pocket tissues in your glove compartment."
Donghae flips him a friendly finger and watches as he gets into his car. You've dyed your hair, was what he really wanted to say, along with, it looks nice, even though from a distance you look like a white-haired old man. But it's okay. They're both in a rush. Hyukjae backs out of the alley and steps on his accelerator once he's in the open road, and Donghae sits there for as long as he can hear the hum of the engine.
Not too bad for a quickie, he thinks, and then laughs when he tries to imagine the excuses that Hyukjae will have to come up with once again for letting Lee Donghae go.
… …
It's half a week later when Hyukjae receives an email in his work inbox titled very charmingly, ODE TO MY COP.
"What's this?" Jungsu, his supervisor, asks while passing behind – for some reason, Jungsu always passes by behind at inopportune moments – and Hyukjae obligingly opens the email so that the both of them, and Kyuhyun now, and Jongwoon, and Shindong, can all look at it together.
It contains the most appalling piece of poetry that he can imagine; Donghae has never been very good at creative writing even back in high school.
THIS IS MY ODE TO MY COP
WHO'S REALLY THE TOPS
AND ALWAYS CHASES ME
GIVES ME A FRIGHT (omg that didnt rhyme, im so sorry)
BUT DOESN'T GIVE UP ANYWAY
COME WHAT MAY.
here's to our next fight, coppie! ^^
by the way, i have started a cyworld. its very fashionable among us gangsters now. the url is www.cyworld.com/dhrunsaway!
join and leave a comment for me, okay? xoxoxo
if u dont have a cyword, start one and call it www.cyworld.com/hjchasesdh okay? okay? yay!
gangster love! xoxoxoxo
Hyukjae clicks on the URL and all of them stare at the twinkly pink hearts running across the background with blinking purple text on the homepage proclaiming 'i run, and it's fun!'
"I think he is not quite right in the head," Jungsu says.
"I think you are right," says Hyukjae, as calmly as a man who's about to have a conniption can be.
He does, however, delete the email with the request to be transferred to a different case. He does start the cyworld account and write a comment on Donghae's page with remarks to the effect that his poem should be outlawed, like him, and to watch out the next time they come into contact again. He doesn't say anymore because Jungsu will probably see it, and anyway it's not like it really matters what he comments.
He can practically hear Donghae's infectious laughter when he clicks 'post'.
end
Disclaimer: I know nothing about Seoul's expressways or how the route is from Seoul to Incheon, so pardon me for any locational impossibilities!
catskilteunhyuk/donghae
nc-17, 3455 words, au
donghae is a gangster, and hyukjae's a cop, and they're engaging in a thrilling car chase, and of course nothing is as it seems.
the ceci mag photoshoot was really just my excuse to write cliched car porn.
Eighty kilometres an hour and Donghae's out of Seoul, speeding on an expressway bound for Incheon. The audio level of his music is so loud that the car practically rattles with it. He doesn't care. He wants it to be louder, so loud, in fact, that the cop tailing him will be able to hear it. Though there's a high possibility that they might, in fact, be listening to the same songs – after all, he'd given Hyukjae the playlist entitled 'For Car Chases' just a month ago.
"'Poker Face'?" Hyukjae had said while scrolling through the songs. "Really?"
"It's appropriate," Donghae had argued. "You're chasing me, I'm being chased, you can't read my, can't read my poker face."
"Except I can't read your face in any case since I would be behind you," Hyukjae pointed out.
Hyukjae is always like this, pointing out all these irritating and trivial discrepancies of Donghae's generous gifts. Donghae hadn't bothered to argue in that instance; they'd been in a hotel room, after all, a very expensive one in Macau that came with a Jacuzzi and balcony attached, and Donghae had been more interested in testing out Hyukjae's stamina over the course of three days than engaging in logistical arguments. Hyukjae passed his test with flying colours, as he does in everything, and Donghae's quite happy now when he checks his rear-view mirror and finds Hyukjae still dutifully following him. Hyukjae is hard to lose when he's chasing you. It's one of his many talents that Donghae particularly admires.
So when he makes an abrupt exit off the expressway, he knows beyond a doubt that Hyukjae, with his lightning quick reflexes, will swerve in after him and avoid hitting any vehicle or barrier that might get in the way of their merry chase. And Donghae just loves the string of expletives that he can practically hear Hyukjae spitting out at him from behind. He flashes his signal lights in response, because it's polite to respond when someone's having such fond thoughts of you.
They're on a small road now, passing by worn-out looking shops and houses, and Donghae searches for a little alley that he's used before to hide from chasing authorities. He locates it in the space between two boarded up shops and, with a quick glance in the rear-view mirror again to ensure that Hyukjae's following close enough, turns quickly into it and backs his car up against a wall.
The music cuts off along with the engine and he hears the car wheels on the gravel, screeching as it slides in just behind him. There's a momentary lull, then a car door slams shut and Donghae checks his hair in the mirror as he waits. He isn't disappointed. Hyukjae appears at his window approximately ten seconds later, frowning, and Donghae opens the door and points a gun right at his gut.
"Hello, officer," he says, flashing what he deems his most leery grin.
"Fuck you," Hyukjae growls. "I almost knocked into the barrier when you took that exit and I almost ran into the building when you turned into this alley. You're officially the worst driver I've ever come across. The first thing I'm going to do when I get back to the department is to request to be taken off this case. Your case, to be specific."
"What, and miss out on all our thrilling car chases?"
"I choose life over excitement."
"You're not very nice to me today," Donghae says with a mock pout, stroking Hyukjae's hip with the barrel of his pistol. "I ditched my members in a motel on the pretext of protecting them from you and took us all the way out of Seoul just because I thought you wanted to have some time alone with me. But now it seems that I was wrong."
Hyukjae just glares at him. "This was my off day, you asshole, and you had to plan that meeting with the Hong Kong mafia on this very day…"
"Oh," Donghae says, suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry. But isn't Wednesday your off day?"
"No, it got changed to Friday. I told you in Macau, but you weren't listening."
Donghae groans and reaches over to tuck his pistol back in his glove compartment. "I'm really sorry, Hyuk. I was kind of occupied in Macau, you know. Did you have a hot date lined up for today?"
"Yes," Hyukjae deadpans even as Donghae hooks his legs around Hyukjae's knees and pulls him closer.
"Who with?" Donghae purrs, unfastening the button of Hyukjae's jeans.
"This incredibly sexy new guy at our accounting department. He drives like a sane person. He doesn't engage in illegal activities."
"Dating your co-workers now, Hyukjae? I would've thought that the police force doesn't allow intra-office dating."
"Well," Hyukjae admits, "it doesn't."
"Well then." Donghae succeeds in unzipping Hyukjae's jeans and pushing them down far enough to dip a finger under the band of his Calvin Klein briefs. "Guess you'd better stop seeing him then."
"Thanks for the advice on my love life," Hyukjae says, putting his hands on Donghae's shoulders, "but I don't think it's any of your business. He's got everything going for him anyway, including being a good lay."
"Far be it from me to dictate who you should or shouldn't sleep with," Donghae says cheerfully, but he pushes Hyukjae's briefs out of the way with more vehemence that he would normally demonstrate under similar circumstances. A vehemence that he regards as well-earned considering the fact that he'd been the one to take Hyukjae's virginity away at seventeen – and, of course, vice versa – and that he is, without a doubt, Hyukjae's most reliable and satisfying source of sexual gratification, regardless of how many incredibly sexy guys there are in the accounting department. That has been the status quo for years, and Donghae intends to keep it that way.
Hyukjae holds his already erect cock loosely at the base and rubs the head across Donghae's cheek, leaving a smear of pre-come on his face. Donghae doesn't mind. He'd almost caused Hyukjae to drive right into a barrier on an expressway after all; Hyukjae's letting him off easy. He locks his ankles more firmly around Hyukjae's calves and bats Hyukjae's hands away from his cock, sending a quick wink up before wrapping his lips around the head of Hyukjae's glorious cock.
"Like it?" Hyukjae asks, and Donghae makes an affirmative sound, his eyes sliding close in pleasure at the familiar heaviness on his tongue. The first time he'd given Hyukjae a blow job had been on Hyukjae's eighteenth birthday when Heechul, the infamous playboy in their school, had told him that a blow job was better than penetration. Donghae doesn't really agree with that, but it suffices to say that after the first experiment, several more had been carried out and Hyukjae said once that Donghae has an oral fixation.
"You have an anal one," Donghae said in response.
"You do know that the anal fixation you're thinking of is not quite the same fixation that Freud was thinking of," Hyukjae said, but Donghae just laughed at him.
But Donghae does, does enjoy this power over Hyukjae, this ability to make him come undone just by the movements of his mouth. Hyukjae's beginning to thrust into his mouth now, tiny little thrusts, and he senses tension in the fingers that are tangling in his hair and tension in the flexing of Hyukjae's thighs. He briefly considers pushing Hyukjae over the edge just like this, having the sweetish and somehow strangely addicting texture of Hyukjae's come in his mouth, but abandons it in the next second – he wants to be fucked, and he's not entirely sure that Hyukjae can get it up again quickly enough after he comes. Long-term satisfaction in favour of short-term, Donghae decides, and pulls away from Hyukjae's cock to a very unhappy whine.
"Don't look so angry," Donghae says sweetly, pressing a quick kiss to Hyukjae's leaking tip before working to pull off his own pants. "I remembered to bring lube this time, so we're going to use it – I know you won't have any complaints."
"I need to be out of here in precisely seven minutes," Hyukjae says. His cock is swollen and red and gorgeous and Donghae can't help leaning forward to tongue it again. It has been a long failing of his, this inability to stay for prolonged periods away from Hyukjae's cock, and it has caused him several instances of inconvenience and frustration, much like now. He doesn't allow himself to think, of course, that what keeps him bouncing back to Hyukjae time and again like a rubber band stretched to its limit is that Hyukjae himself is the one stretching that band and then releasing the ends, not Hyukjae's cock, nor his arms, nor legs, nor any part of his unapologetically beautiful body really – but that's all unimportant anyway, in the general scheme of things. Once, a long time ago, Donghae had moved out of his apartment without notifying Hyukjae and changed his phone number at the expense of a penalty by his telephone company. He'd been adamant, very adamant indeed, commendably adamant, to be the one dictating his own rubber band fate, which included not spending nights hankering after his high school sweetheart and most definitely not fantasising about fucking that particular sweetheart in a bathtub, or a balcony, or an interrogation room, or anywhere, actually. That resolution had lasted a total of three months before Hyukjae found him again during a police raid on gang-owned brothels and Donghae had looked up at him with his arms around two extremely pretty, extremely sexy prostitutes – nobody could ever accuse Donghae of not having very good gangster business acumen – and known that if there was anyone he was going to be fucking that night, it would be Hyukjae and not these physically superior prostitutes.
And that had been that, really.
He retrieves the lube from the ever-useful glove compartment and holds it out to Hyukjae, who doesn't waste any time uncapping it and pouring a very liberal amount over his fingers. Donghae takes off his pants and underwear completely and suggests, "Let's emigrate to the backseat", which they do without question since they're lacking time – usually they prefer a little more argument, a "I'm dominating this cultural exchange and you'd just have to learn to deal with it", since it makes things more lively, particularly if you've already been at it all day and your partner is hot and sticky and vocally averse to the idea of putting his dick in your ass one more time, but one has to be practical in situations where one is facing a tight deadline. Donghae balances himself on his hands and knees and does not, absolutely does not, buck back into Hyukjae's finger with a groan when it slips past the resistance of his muscle into his body. Hyukjae adds a second finger and Donghae just really, really wants to get himself off on those pretty fingers of Hyukjae's, the same fingers that had once fastened themselves around his throat during a heated threat of "Leave me alone or I'll put you behind bars, don't think I won't do it", but he manages to restrain himself until Hyukjae puts in a third.
"Goddamn it, Hyukjae," he wheezes, turning his head to glare at Hyukjae over his shoulder, "you know that I never need a third finger. Will you just put your cock in and fuck me now, you fucking tease."
"You're in a congenial mood today, I must say," Hyukjae remarks, but since time is running out for wisecracks, he withdraws his fingers and Donghae, shivering with the ache of emptiness in his ass, scrambles back to pull Hyukjae down onto the seat. Hyukjae settles down quickly and holds out his arms in a gesture of affection – old habits die hard, especially habits that are fuelled by certain feelings and a considerable amount of history – and Donghae puts one arm around Hyukjae's neck, grips the base of Hyukjae's cock with his other hand and lowers himself down, slowly, squeezing his eyes shut with the pleasure of that throbbing thickness sliding into him.
When he rolls his hips, there's a gurgled sound in Hyukjae's throat, a mingling of pleasure and desire and pain, and Donghae doesn't look into Hyukjae's eyes in those initial moments of nakedness, presses his face against Hyukjae's instead and breathes into his hair as he moves. Hyukjae drives his fingers into Donghae's hips wordlessly and bites his shoulder, and when he lets out a long breath that Donghae has heard countless times over the course of their years of lovemaking and has come to recognise as an indication that it's safe to look into Hyukjae's eyes again, he pulls back and smirks at him. "Are you sure you still want to be taken off my case? I have several more exciting experiences lined up for you, you know."
"I've practically written the email already," Hyukjae says, moving his hands to the swell of Donghae's buttocks to push him more deeply onto his cock. "Would be a shame to delete it."
"But – very – necessary – to – your sex life," Donghae says between his gasps. There are approximately three minutes remaining on their clock and he doesn't put it past Hyukjae to push him off and walk away when the time is up with little regard for whether or not they've reached their climaxes yet. Hyukjae can be a conscientious bastard like that. He digs his fingers into Hyukjae's skin and opens his mouth for air, perspiration beginning to roll down the line of his neck, and he can't restrain the groan that drags itself out of his throat when Hyukjae mouths his Adam's apple.
Hyukjae opens his mouth to say something but Donghae shoves his tongue in instead, kissing a bruise onto his mouth, a bruise that hopefully Hyukjae will have to think of creative explanations for when he returns to his department. He rolls his hips again and hits the spot that he's been looking for, the one that flares feeling to every cell in his body and makes him shout into Hyukjae's mouth, and at that moment he forgets everything but the intense pleasure concentrated in his groin, the only region in his body that matters right now, the area that Hyukjae's occupying with increasing strength and depth, increasing speed; and Donghae barely processes it when Hyukjae manoeuvres him onto the seat and pulls his legs up on his shoulders.
"Hold on," Hyukjae says slightly teasingly, his eyes twinkling, and Donghae does hold on, does put his arms around Hyukjae and hold him like he's everything in the world, or maybe the only thing that has any real worth. Their shirts grow damp between them as Hyukjae fucks him so hard that the entire car shudders, drives again and again at that spot inside him, and he trembles and cries out and grips his legs himself, holding them out of Hyukjae's way. Hyukjae's panting and he's panting and he feels the roughness of Hyukjae's fingers pushing his shirt up so that he can caress the clenched muscles on Donghae's stomach.
"So – fucking – good," Hyukjae gasps into his ear, and Donghae agrees, leaves marks and bites and bruises all the way from Hyukjae's shoulders to the base of his spine. Sex with Hyukjae always gives him the sensation of freedom and release, and though he considers both of them free men bound merely by their personal uncontrollable and illogical desires, this feeling of freedom comes only in the coupling with Hyukjae, the intensity of their physical intimacy.
"Come," he breathes, putting both hands on either side of Hyukjae's face and looking directly into his eyes. "Come in me."
Hyukjae moans helplessly and Donghae moves his hands to his ass, gripping it as Hyukjae begins thrusting at a frantic, almost indiscernible pace, hips snapping back and forth until Donghae comes without being touched, comes so violently that his head knocks against the car door and he only vaguely registers Hyukjae shuddering against him, panting into his ear as a familiar heat fills his insides and they hold on to each other in this moment of complete, untarnished, artless joy.
Hyukjae has pulled out and fastened his jeans before Donghae has fully come down from his high. He lies weakly on the backseat, shirt scrunched up around his chest and come leaking out of his ass and smeared all over his stomach, staring silently at Hyukjae as he straightens his clothes and smoothens down his hair.
"Got to go," Hyukjae says, and indicates his watch with a grin. "Seven minutes exactly. We're getting rather good at this, aren't we?"
"I always said I was a professional," Donghae says. "So does this mean you're letting me go?"
"Come to think of it, taking you back with me would be the easiest thing," Hyukjae says. "My car is blocking yours, so you can't make a quick getaway, and you're completely defenceless now, because face it, I can get that gun out of the glove compartment way before you can even reach over for it…"
"Try me."
"And I have my own gun, anyway, which means that if you make a move to shoot me I can shoot you back in self-defence. I have all the evidence of your meeting with the Hong Kong mafia and we've managed to nab some of their henchmen who probably wouldn't have any qualms in testifying against you."
Donghae nods, sadly.
"So really, arresting you right now would be the easiest, most fuss-free experience of my police career."
"Right," Donghae agrees amicably.
"Well," says Hyukjae, turning away, "try not to break too many traffic laws on your way to Incheon."
Donghae sits up. "Hyukjae?"
"What? If I don't leave in the next one minute…"
"Do you have any tissues?"
"Don't even try to use that delay tactic on me," Hyukjae calls back over his shoulder. "You have pocket tissues in your glove compartment."
Donghae flips him a friendly finger and watches as he gets into his car. You've dyed your hair, was what he really wanted to say, along with, it looks nice, even though from a distance you look like a white-haired old man. But it's okay. They're both in a rush. Hyukjae backs out of the alley and steps on his accelerator once he's in the open road, and Donghae sits there for as long as he can hear the hum of the engine.
Not too bad for a quickie, he thinks, and then laughs when he tries to imagine the excuses that Hyukjae will have to come up with once again for letting Lee Donghae go.
… …
It's half a week later when Hyukjae receives an email in his work inbox titled very charmingly, ODE TO MY COP.
"What's this?" Jungsu, his supervisor, asks while passing behind – for some reason, Jungsu always passes by behind at inopportune moments – and Hyukjae obligingly opens the email so that the both of them, and Kyuhyun now, and Jongwoon, and Shindong, can all look at it together.
It contains the most appalling piece of poetry that he can imagine; Donghae has never been very good at creative writing even back in high school.
THIS IS MY ODE TO MY COP
WHO'S REALLY THE TOPS
AND ALWAYS CHASES ME
GIVES ME A FRIGHT (omg that didnt rhyme, im so sorry)
BUT DOESN'T GIVE UP ANYWAY
COME WHAT MAY.
here's to our next fight, coppie! ^^
by the way, i have started a cyworld. its very fashionable among us gangsters now. the url is www.cyworld.com/dhrunsaway!
join and leave a comment for me, okay? xoxoxo
if u dont have a cyword, start one and call it www.cyworld.com/hjchasesdh okay? okay? yay!
gangster love! xoxoxoxo
Hyukjae clicks on the URL and all of them stare at the twinkly pink hearts running across the background with blinking purple text on the homepage proclaiming 'i run, and it's fun!'
"I think he is not quite right in the head," Jungsu says.
"I think you are right," says Hyukjae, as calmly as a man who's about to have a conniption can be.
He does, however, delete the email with the request to be transferred to a different case. He does start the cyworld account and write a comment on Donghae's page with remarks to the effect that his poem should be outlawed, like him, and to watch out the next time they come into contact again. He doesn't say anymore because Jungsu will probably see it, and anyway it's not like it really matters what he comments.
He can practically hear Donghae's infectious laughter when he clicks 'post'.
end
Disclaimer: I know nothing about Seoul's expressways or how the route is from Seoul to Incheon, so pardon me for any locational impossibilities!
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