Seventeen imagines

Cloud 9

You watched clouds glide over Chan's glistening black eyes.

A coy breeze rustled the grass in your hidden meadow. You and your boyfriend's secret slice of peace.

The wind ruffled Chan's sky-blue hair, dipped into the hollows of his confident collarbones, and frolicked under his loose T-shirt, pulling it up greedily.

Beneath, goose bumps spread over sun-baked planes of muscle. Your magpie fingers longed to stroke that hard azure, to feel it ripple under your touch.

"Look up, Y/n! There's cloud shaped like an elephant!" Chan's voice rumbled upwards. You melted at the sight of his pouty peach lips.

Reluctantly, you gave the sky a quick glance. Bloated blue fed with sun rays. White tufts of fur drifted around, as if shed from some heavenly house pet.

Boring. It was nothing compared to the view you had beside you.

You turned your eyes back to Chan. Thick veins ran down his strong arms – the arms of a man whose body was his instrument, whose dance could bring gasps of delight and which had hidden magic in every sinew.

"Woah! That cloud looks like a kitten!"

Chan's words dripped straight out of your ears like melted ice cream. You didn't catch a word. It wasn't your fault; you were helplessly preoccupied by the man himself.

You imagined a journey under his soft cotton T-shirt, fingers tracing down his sandstone chest, and planting a tender kiss on his cross necklace. Your dream-mouth circled his navel like you needed it to breathe. The dipping trail of secret black hair that slipped into his trousers tickled your chin. No blonde hair dye to chameleon this part of him.

"Well, Y/n? Can you see it or not?"

Your daydream scattered like a blown dandelion.

"Are you even listening to me?" Chan's liquid eyes flooded yours.

"Uh....." You scrambled for an excuse. "No? Maybe...?"

Oops. Probably shouldn't've said that.

Darkness flickered over Chan's face like leaf-shadows rippling in the breeze. You quaked in your Converses.

Suddenly, he grinned. "Of course, I knew you weren't listening, babe... Am I really that irresistible?"

A sigh fluttered from your lips. Your racing heart slowed. A bit. "Yes. You are."

Grinning, Chan rolled over the grass so his body pressed against yours. Despite the effort, Chan's muscles did not tremble.

A breathless, bronze-cheeked girl was reflected in Chan's pupils. You stole a kiss, a quick burning stamp to Chan's silken cheek.

He laughed. "Have you still not had your fill of me?"

"Never," you insisted.

Chan chuckled once more, then kissed your mouth. It was a lazy, lolling, sundrunk kiss. When you kissed him back, your lips were not lazy. They were feverish butterfly lips. Wasps buzzed in your ear and ants scurried to the beat of your drumming pulse.

Chan's weight squeezed you down into stinging thistles, but you barely noticed. Your hands were sliding urgently over Chan's back, pushing under white cotton. His sweat-stuck skin flexed under your fingers. Knotted coils of muscle. You felt a familiar mole, greeted it, moved dizzyingly on.

Chan's body was so firm and real you could almost taste it. You did taste it. You sucked the salty, summer taste from the base of his neck, from his ear lobe. You felt him shuddering against you. His panting breaths charged yours into a desperate spiral.

You loved the shape of Chan. The lean, broad strength of him. The harder you clung to him, the firmer he felt. You gulped up his amber heat with every morsel of strength in your body. Eventually, oxygen deprived, you were forced to pull back.

Chan gently rolled off you, both your bodies dripping with sweat.

"Had... your fill ...now?" Chan murmured between gasping breaths.

"Like I said..." you began. Sunrays formed bright white fingers in the sky.

"Never."