smoothed out slappy hours (teddyescher) wrote in oberyns,
smoothed out slappy hours
teddyescher
oberyns

talk it off

jinwoo/seungyoon | nc-17 | 1149 words | originally posted as a fill here on yg_winnermeme
"so, what are you wearing?"

phone sex fic! i don't actually know how this happened. i don't actually actively ship anyone in winner besides mino/seunghoon. i was honestly just scrolling through the prompt meme and saw the prompt. also, i think i probably have a thing for writing phone sex. whoops. warnings for phone sex. basically. this has been edited and added on to a little!



"Told you not to call," is the first thing Jinwoo says, on picking up the phone. Seungyoon probably should have expected that. Seungyoon rolls over the comic books that are on his bed, clutching the phone between his ear and his shoulder, reaching to toss his things aside haphazardly. "They're still here."

"Forget about them," says Seungyoon dismissively. It's always hard to phone your boyfriend when they have a million relatives over for the holidays. Well. Technically, it's just four of his relatives, but having your cousins in the room right next door always puts a damper on things. "I'll just do all the talking, then."

There's an airy chuckle that floats down the line. Seungyoon savours it while he can, having gone an entire three days without hearing Jinwoo's voice. Perks of having a hot older boyfriend: hot older boyfriend. Cons: college takes up a hell of a lot more time than he'd thought. "You do that, then."

"Sure," says Seungyoon, and jokingly, he lets his voice drop low, "so, what are you wearing?"

It takes a moment to register, on the other end, but there's a burst of laughter, before it's hushed quickly. "You call me at twelve at night just to attempt to talk dirty to me?"

"Attempt isn't the word," says Seungyoon, pulling the phone away momentarily to switch sides, "I would totally do that. Also, why not? It's the best time of the night for it."

"It's also the time of night where the entire house is about to go to bed," comes Jinwoo's murmur. "You're awful, you know that?"

"If I really were awful, I'd start by telling you what I'm wearing instead." Seungyoon pauses for effect. "Absolutely nothing."

"Liar," comes the word easily. "You never sleep nude."

"Well," says Seungyoon, almost contemplatively. Would he really? "I could get naked right now."

He swears he hears a pin drop. Then, Jinwoo's voice. "How would I know?"

"Trust me," whispers Seungyoon, and oh, this is going somewhere, now. "You'll know."

He places the phone on the bed, and slowly shuffles out of his clothes, dropping his plain old shirt and his only pair of jeans into a heap beside the floor, making sure he makes enough sound to be heard through the phone. It only takes a short minute before he's only in his shorts, and he grabs the phone again, bringing it back up to his ear to ask, "So. Guess what I'm wearing."

Jinwoo's breath comes before his words. "Nothing."

"Close enough," says Seungyoon cheekily, "One piece of clothing left."

"Not going to take those off?" Jinwoo's voice sounds lower than usual. Still soft, though. Dangerously soft. Seungyoon swallows, just slightly. Yeah, this is definitely heading somewhere. He glances towards the door, making sure it's locked, before returning his attention to what Jinwoo's saying. "Hmm?"

"Well," says Seungyoon, "I can't take them off until you tell me to, obviously."

Someone's words hitch in their throat. Seungyoon isn't sure if it's Jinwoo, after hearing that, or himself, after saying it.

Jinwoo's voice is much, much quieter than before. "Seungyoon?" he says, voice steady. "Strip."

"Yeah?" Seungyoon's mouth feels dry, but he keeps himself talking, keeps himself focused. "I'm running a finger along the hem of my shorts, now... sliding them off..."

"And," says Jinwoo, "I'm guessing you want me to tell you what to do next, then?"

"Go on," says Seungyoon, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, "go on."

"Then, you go on," says Jinwoo, easily, so easily that Seungyoon almost doesn't believe the next words that come out of his mouth, "touch yourself."

Seungyoon hadn't expected them to really get to this point, but it's happening now. "Alright," he says, in response, as he slides a hand down, and lets his fingers curl in a familiar grasp around his cock, listening for the steady inhale, exhale, of Jinwoo's breath as he does. "I'm—I'm touching myself now."

"Tell me about it," says Jinwoo, and Seungyoon bites his lower lip, "tell me exactly how you're touching yourself, Seungyoon."

"I," says Seungyoon, "I've got my hand around myself." The build-up is steady, the movement with a little more friction than he likes, but it still begins a steady burn up his spine. "Touching myself the way you touch me."

Jinwoo lets out a shudder of an exhale. "God, Seungyoon." There's a pause, before Jinwoo continues, "Tell me what you're thinking about. Come on."

"You," says Seungyoon immediately, letting his eyes close, "god, yeah, I'm thinking about you, Jinwoo."

"Christ," whispers Jinwoo, and Seungyoon thinks about just how turned on Jinwoo sounds over the phone. He thinks about Jinwoo lying there in bed, his hand in his own pants. Touching himself to the sound of Seungyoon touching himself. That pretty hand around that pretty cock, thumbing over the head the way Seungyoon usually does when he jerks Jinwoo off. Seungyoon thinks about Jinwoo, making those soft little sounds in the back of his throat, and involuntarily lets out a sound of his own, quickening the pace of his actions.

"Jinwoo," says Seungyoon, more of a moan than the syllables of his name, and Jinwoo sounds out of breath on the other end, "Jinwoo, talk to me, please, god—"

"I wish I could see what you look like right now," comes Jinwoo's quiet admission over the line, breathy and hastily whispered, and it makes Seungyoon even more aroused, if possible, "I wish I could see the look on your face. Eyes closed, biting your lip the way you always do. Saying my name."

"Jinwoo," says Seungyoon, and he's rewarded with a shaky groan from Jinwoo's end of the line. "Jinwoo," he repeats, low and drawn out, so fucking close to coming but all he wants to hear is Jinwoo saying his name in return. "Jinwoo, please."

"Seungyoon," comes Jinwoo's voice, finally, so full of wanting that Seungyoon can hear it even from there, and it spurs him on to the edge. His movements falter, and he can't help the succession of cries that pull themselves from his throat, and it's through the haze of coming that he realises Jinwoo's come too, biting back a too-loud call behind the cup of his palm, but still enough to be heard through the phone.

"Wow," says Seungyoon, blinking, before readjusting the phone that's slipped a little against his shoulder, "I hadn't been expecting that to happen."

"Yeah," says Jinwoo, breathless. Seungyoon loves hearing him like this. Spent. Left even more wanting than before. "God, you're great."

"I should be saying that to you, for allowing me to fulfill my long-time dream of phone sex," says Seungyoon jokingly.

"Long-time dream?" repeats Jinwoo, close to laughing again, "thought that was becoming a world-famous singer."

"Yes, well," says Seungyoon, "priorities."

"And what, phone sex tops that list?"

"Nope," says Seungyoon, "you do."

He can practically hear Jinwoo's smile through the phone.
Tags: f: winner, p: fanfiction, r: nc-17, s: seungyoon/jinwoo
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