Idly watching Sehun sit down with Kris and try to fit under the same umbrella, he put his hands in his jacket pockets.  His fingers brushed against something; a tag?  With nothing better to do, he pulled it out.  Just a slip of paper with handwriting he didn’t recognize.

            I try to wrap my tongue around it

            It’s so big, it fills my mouth, baby

            I’m not sure if I should swallow

            But it feels so smooth going down

            What the hell was this?  Taken aback, he read it again.  What was it?  Who had written it?  How had it gotten into his pocket?  Was someone passing notes?  But it was so lewd!

            Suddenly, he remembered.  This wasn’t his jacket.  This was Nam Woohyun’s jacket.

            Curling his fingers over the paper to shield it from passing eyes, he glanced around but didn’t see Woohyun anywhere.  This had to be Woohyun’s note.  Should he give it back?

            Deciding that this was too interesting to be kept to himself, he went over to Kris and Sehun, squatting down in front of them.  “I found this,” he said, and handed the note to Kris.  Then, realizing his mistake, he took it from Kris and handed it to Sehun.  “Does it say what I think it says?”

            With Kris leaning over his shoulder, Sehun quickly read the note.  His eyes widening, he rounded his mouth into a delighted, scandalized O, then burst into laughter.  “What is this?”

            Frowning, Kris took it from him, still reading.

            “I found it in my pocket.”  Leaning closer, Tao whispered, “This is Nam Woohyun’s jacket.”

            Sehun’s eyebrows lifted; he was enjoying this.  “Infinite’s Nam Woohyun?”

            Tao nodded.  “I couldn’t find my jacket.  He gave me his.”

            Clearing his throat, Kris put the note into the pocket of his own pants.  “Water.  It’s a poem about drinking water.”

            While Tao stared at Kris in disbelief, Sehun laughed.  “It’s not!  ‘I try to wrap my tongue around it?’  That’s not water.”

            “Ice cube,” Kris explained.  “He’s sucking on an ice cube.”

            Sehun snorted.  “He’s sucking on something.  It’s not ice.”

            “It’s about a cock, isn’t it?” Tao asked.  “It’s about a blowjob.”

            Kris’ hand clamped over his mouth, huge and unyielding, Kris’ other arm circling his shoulders and drawing him in.  Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, Kris said, “Huang Zitao.  We’re in goddamned public.  We’re surrounded by staff, fans, microphones, and cameras.”  Kris’ stare intensified.  “Watch your mouth or we’ll leave you at the dorm next time.  Got it?”

            Tao blinked rapidly to show that he understood.

            Kris’s smile was tight.  “Smile and laugh so the fans think it’s a game.”

            Sehun chuckled.

            As Kris released him, Tao wanted to sulk - - he didn’t need to be grabbed and lectured! - - but he tossed Kris a smile.

            “I’ll take care of the note,” Kris said.  “You never saw it and you never heard anything about it.”

            Sehun nodded.

            Tao smoothed his hair.  “At least tell us if you find out who wrote it.”

            “Or who they’re writing about,” Sehun said.  “I want to know who has ‘ice’ like that.”

            “Ah, hyung.”  Shifting the umbrella over to include him in its shade, Suho smiled.

            Glancing at Kai, who was lounging at Suho’s side, Kris waved him away.  “This is between leaders and men.”

            Rolling his eyes, Kai chuckled and left.

            Suho’s look was inquisitive.  “Leader business?  I thought you were taking the day off.”

            “I was, but a leader’s business is never done.”  Suho’s questioning expression, round eyes and pursed lips, was so cute and so attentive that he deliberately avoided looking directly at it.  “Tao found a note in his pocket.  He lost his jacket earlier, and Nam Woohyun gave him one.  The note’s, ah, kind of obscene.”

            Suho made a surprised, questioning sound.

            “It’s probably better if we pretend we never saw it, right?”  As he risked eye contact, he saw Suho’s expression going speculative and thoughtful.  Immediately, he was relieved.  Obviously, he could make decisions on his own, but it always felt good to confirm things with Suho, to be on the same page, to bounce ideas off of each other and arrive at the answer together.

            “Did Woohyun give the note to Tao on purpose?” Suho asked.

            Kris had never thought of that.  “What, like he put it in the pocket and hoped that Tao would find it?  He couldn’t know that Tao was going to lose the jacket.  Unless he stole Tao’s jacket.”  It sounded absurd, and Kris laughed.  “That’s a lot of work just to pass a note.”

            “What does it say?” Suho asked.

            “Uh.”  With a nervous laugh, Kris licked his lips.  “It’s about.”  He glanced around; no one seemed to be within earshot.  He lowered his voice anyway, gazing down at the grass between them.  “You know that thing you do sometimes.  With your mouth.”  He wasn’t sure what else to say in public; he glanced up from the grass and met Suho’s eyes.

            Suho’s expression went from puzzled patience to shocked comprehension.  “That?”  He laughed.  “That thing you like?”

            “Yeah.”  Coughing slightly, he held Suho’s gaze for a moment.  “You should do that more often.”

            With a pleased, embarrassed smile, Suho pushed at his shoulder.  “Greedy.”

            “For that, yeah.”  Turned on, wishing there weren’t so many cameras around, he couldn’t help but think of what he’d do if no one were watching, couldn’t help but think of leaning in, how Suho’s eyes would gaze into his and then close in anticipation at the last moment, how soft Suho’s lips would be, how unbearably romantic the curl of Suho’s arm around his neck would be, how hot his blood would run as Suho’s other hand stroked across his chest.  He could almost hear Suho’s breathless, encouraging, “Yes, hyung,” as he tipped Suho back across the soft, green grass and-

            “Where are you?” Suho asked, his voice quiet, amused.

            “Almost there.  Hold on,” Kris murmured, closing his eyes.  In his fantasy, they rolled over, and as he relaxed back across the grass, legs splayed under the bright sun, Suho slid down his body, hands stroking his thighs, tongue circling his navel before-

            “Ya!”  Laughing, Suho bumped him, and his eyes flew open, the fantasy shattered.  “You can’t think about that here!”

            Disoriented, he smiled, wishing that he could kiss Suho’s mouth.  “No?”

            “No!”  Curiosity tinged Suho’s expression.  “Tell me about it when we’re back at the dorm.”  Then he held out his hand.  “Show me the note.”

            With a sigh, Kris handed it over.  It had seemed like a good idea to keep it quiet, to keep as few eyes on it as possible, but Suho might as well look, at least to make a better decision about what to do.

            As he read, his face was calm, unmoved.  With a dismissive nod, he pocketed the note.  “If this is Nam Woohyun’s, he’ll worry that we’ve found it.  It was meant to be private.  I’ll return it in the jacket as if we never saw it.”

            It seemed like a good idea, but, “If Tao borrowed the jacket, shouldn’t Tao give it back?  If you return it, won’t it seem strange?”

            “Tao will laugh or be obvious, and he’ll know that we know.”  Suho smiled.  “Besides, he knows how it is.  Leaders cleaning up after their members.”

            True.  Kris nodded.  “Good plan.”  He had to ask.  “Tonight, at the dorm, will you do that thing I like?”

            Suho’s smile was cheerful.  “Maybe.”

            “Oh!  Is he going to be all right?”  Suho looked concerned.

            “It’s not serious,” Dongwoo assured him.  “What do you need him for?”

            “I wanted to thank him.  I can wait until he’s out.”

            “That might be a while.  I wouldn’t wait.”

            “Oh, if he’s not hurt badly, I’ll just go in and see him.”

            “Would they let you?” Dongwoo wondered.  “What do you want to thank him for?”

            Suho laughed.  “It’s nothing important.  He gave Tao his jacket, and I wanted to give it back.”

            “It’s just that?  I can take it,” Dongwoo said, taking the jacket from him.

            “Are you sure?”  Suho seemed reluctant to let it go.  “You don’t want to carry that around until you see him again.”

            “It’s okay.  I’ll go over and check on him.”

            “You don’t have to.  I can wait until I see him.”

            Dongwoo laughed.  “I don’t have anything better to do.  Returning a jacket is more interesting than anything else that’s happening right now.”

            “Okay.  Thank you.”

            Dongwoo nodded.  “No problem.”  Parting from Suho, he waved to the fans and started off toward the medical center.  Halfway there, he decided to put the jacket on, just for something to do.  Shuffling and dancing as he walked, he put his hands in his pockets.

            Hunh, what was this?  Curious, he read the note.

            Oh, wow.  Whoa.  Looking around, he didn’t see Suho anywhere.  Walking through the moving sprawl of idols, he saw a lot of people dressed in orange but no Suho.  Then he spotted Xiumin.

            Spotting him in return, Xiumin walked over.

            “Do you know where your leader is?” Dongwoo asked.

            “Suho?”

            Who else - - oh, right.  “Yeah, Suho.  He gave me this jacket but he left this in the pocket.”  He handed Xiumin the note.

            Reading it, Xiumin choked on surprised laughter, then stared at him.  “What is this?”

            “I don’t know!” he exclaimed, laughing.  “It’s lewd, right?  It was in the pocket.  Is it his?”

            “Suho’s?”  Still laughing, Xiumin shook his head.  “Not his.  Not our Suho.”

            With a bright, interested smile, Luhan joined them, wrapping his arm around Xiumin, Baekhyun right behind him.  “What are you two giggling about?”

            “Dongwoo gave me this obscene note,” Xiumin said, handing it over.

            “I didn’t!” Dongwoo protested, pushing him.  “It’s not mine.  It was in the pocket.  Suho gave me this jacket.”

            Luhan’s jaw dropped as he read.  “Is this porn?”

            “Maybe it’s a love letter,” Xiumin suggested.

            “Maybe it’s lyrics!” Dongwoo decided.  “Does Suho wrote lyrics?”

            “I don’t know anyone who writes lyrics like this,” Luhan said as Baekhyun took it from him and read it over.

            “Except you,” Xiumin said, nudging Dongwoo.

            “It’s not mine!” he insisted, laughing.

            “Where would Suho get this?” Luhan asked.

            “Why did he give you his jacket?” Xiumin asked.

            “He gave it to me to give back to Woohyun because Tao borrowed it,” Dongwoo said.

            “Wait, what?” Xiumin asked.  “You have it.  Suho had it before that.  Tao had it before that.  Woohyun had it before that?”

            “This isn’t Tao’s,” Baekhyun said.  “The Korean’s too good.”

            “It’s not Woohyun’s,” Dongwoo said.  “It’s not his handwriting.”

            “Maybe they didn’t write it,” Xiumin said.  “Maybe someone gave it to them.”

            “Who would give something like this to Woohyun?” Dongwoo asked.

            “Someone who wants to, you know, do that to him,” Baekhyun said.

            “So we just have to figure out who wants to do that to Tao or Woohyun,” Xiumin said.  He looked around the crowd.  “An idol or a fan?”

            Dongwoo wondered whether someone would give a note like that to Woohyun or to Tao.  The note wasn’t specific enough to have many clues.  Oh!  “Whoever the note is about has a big cock.  How big is Tao’s?”

            “Dongwoo!”  Xiumin pushed at him.  “What are you saying?”

            “How big is Woohyun sunbae’s?” Luhan asked with interest.

            Dongwoo laughed.  “I don’t know, I’ve never measured it!”

            “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” Baekhyun asked.

            Well, “Yeah, of course.”

            “Hard?” he persisted, grinning.

            Dongwoo felt himself blush.  “Yeah.”

            “Who do you know in common?” Luhan asked.  “Xiumin, right?  Is Woohyun’s bigger than Xiumin’s?”

            “Yeah,” Dongwoo admitted.

            “Hmm.  So is Tao’s,” Luhan said.

            “Ya!”  Xiumin threw his hands up.  “I’m right here!”

            “Hyung.”  Sungjong jogged by, pulling at Dongwoo.  “Come on, it’s time to start.”

            Start - - oh!  “I have to go,” Dongwoo remembered.

            “Oh, the race?” Xiumin asked.

            “Go, go,” Luhan said, nudging them both onward.  “We’ll figure it out while you’re gone.”

            Strolling around the grass, eyeing the other idols and wondering, he came upon Hoya.  He watched Hoya stretch for a while, enjoying the play of muscles, the athleticism of Hoya’s strong body.  Catching him watching, Hoya flashed him a brief smile, so he approached with a smile of his own.  “Hey.”

            “Hey,” Hoya said, straightening.

            “Have you heard about the note?”

            Hoya shook his head, smoothing his hair.  “What note?”

            “Everyone was passing around a jacket earlier, and there was a note in the pocket.  An obscene note.”  He held it out.  “No one knows who wrote it or who it belongs to.”

            Taking it, Hoya read it over once, raised his eyebrows, and read it again.  Then he handed it back.  “Are you coming on to me?”

            It wasn’t the response he’d expected, and he laughed, enjoying it.  “No!”  The interest was definitely there, though.  “I’m serious about the note.  Nobody knows whose it is.  Do you know this handwriting?”

            Hoya shook his head.  “Who had the jacket?”

            “Woohyun sunbaenim, Dongwoo sunbaenim, our Tao, and Suho hyung.”

            “Oh, is it that jacket?” Hoya asked.  “Woohyun got that jacket from our old man, Kim Sunggyu.”

            Baekhyun raised his eyebrows, interested.  “You think it’s his?”

            Hoya shook his head.  “Why would it be?  He hates…”  Cupping his hand over the side of his face as if scratching his temple, he rubbed his tongue inside his cheek.  “…doing that thing, so he wouldn’t write it, and he doesn’t have a big…”  He glanced around the crowd.  “…umbrella, so it can’t be about him.”

            Baekhyun loved how bold and vague Hoya managed to be at the same time.  “Okay.  Who does have a big umbrella on your team?”

            Hoya grinned.  “Besides me?”

            Baekhyun laughed, getting turned on, seriously enjoying this flirtation.  “Let’s talk about your umbrella later.”

            Hoya eyed him.  “Who has one on your team?”

            Baekhyun eyed him right back, grinning.  “On three?”

            Hoya nodded.  “One.”

            “Two.”

            “Three.”

            “Kris hyung,” Baekhyun said.

            “Sunggyu hyung,” Hoya admitted, sighing.

            Baekhyun burst into laughter.  “You just said!”

            “It’s not that big,” Hoya muttered, glaring across the grass moodily.

            Baekhyun grinned at him.  “Well, if it’s bigger than yours…”

            “It’s huge,” Hoya said immediately.  “It’s enormous.”

            “You think someone wrote the note for him?” Baekhyun asked.  “Maybe it was in his pocket and Woohyun sunbaenim borrowed his jacket?”

            “Who would write that about Kim Sunggyu hyung?” Hoya asked.

            Baekhyun smiled.  “Doesn’t Infinite have fans?”

            “I have fans,” Hoya joked.  “They love me.  I think they just cheer for him to show support.  Make him feel better.”

            “Hyung,” Hoya protested, embarrassed.  “You can’t-”

            “Are you my hoobae?” Sunggyu asked Baekhyun.  “Are you my dongsaeng?”

            “Yes,” Baekhyun admitted.

            “Go away,” Sunggyu repeated.

            “Yes, sunbaenim.”  Baekhyun bowed to Sunggyu, then whispered to Hoya, “Tell me everything,” and left.

            “What?” Hoya demanded.  “Is it yours?  Do you know it?”

            “You don’t know this handwriting?” Sunggyu asked.

            “No!”  Hoya tried to remember how it had looked.  It wasn’t his own handwriting, wasn’t Dongwoo’s.  Wasn’t Sunggyu’s.  “Whose is it?”

            “I’ll take care of it,” Sunggyu said, pushing his hands into his pockets, guarding the note.  “Go tell those EXO kids to keep it to themselves.”

            Come on!  “You have to tell me who wrote it!  Did someone give it to you?  Is someone writing obscene love notes about your,” he coughed, “stuff?”

            Sunggyu kicked him.  “It’s not about your stuff, so stay out of it.”

            He should have acted like he didn’t recognize it.  He should have taken it from them without being so obvious.  Ugh.  Now they’d think - - well, fine.  Let them think whatever they wanted.  No one could prove anything as long as he had the note.

            He didn’t want to be seen racing off to confer with anyone, so he bided his time.  He sat alone for a while.  He hung out with Sungjong.  He checked on Woohyun.  He passed time with the fans.

            After a while, L sat down beside him, looking tired.

            “Poor kid.”  He smoothed L’s hair, then put his arm around L.  Briefly, his fingers dipped into the pocket of L’s jacket, depositing the note.  “It’s a good thing that L and Myungsoo have different handwriting.”

            L looked at him in bewilderment.

            “Check your pockets,” Sunggyu said.  “Later.  And then burn it.  Half of the idols out here have seen it and the rest are going to be talking about it.”

            L blushed, then closed his eyes.  Regret, relief, and humiliation crossed swiftly over his features.  “I thought it was lost.  I thought…”  He opened his eyes again.  “How did you find it?”

            “It was in the pocket of some jacket that everyone was passing around.”

            Energy seemed to drain out of him as he tipped his head back.  “I thought it fell out, I was worried…”  Slowly, he shook his head and gazed into the distance.  He looked so weighed down by emotion that Sunggyu pulled him closer.  Hugged to Sunggyu’s shoulder, he sighed, relaxing into Sunggyu’s side.  “Thank you.  For getting it back to me.”

            “You can’t walk around with it,” Sunggyu said.  “Why did you have it with you?”

            “I don’t know.”  He closed his eyes.  “I just needed to.”

            “Is your head okay?”  L crawled on top of him.

            At the light skim of fingertips across his forehead, he opened his eyes.  “Yeah.  It’s fine.”  He smiled, remembering how concerned L had been earlier.  “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

            A fleeting smile; L’s fingers combed through his hair, straightening it, and he watched L focus on his hair with obsessive intensity.  Running his hands over L’s bare sides, he enjoyed the tautness of muscle, the satin of L’s soft skin.  Wearing nothing but black boxer-briefs, L finally seemed satisfied with his hair and smiled down at him with happy fondness.  “You’re cute, too.”

            Laughing, he tugged L in for a kiss.  As their mouths met, L’s lips soft and sensual against his own, L’s body melted against him, smooth and firm.  As L’s weight settled onto him, he moaned with pleasure, inviting L more snugly between his thighs.  It was always good with L, really good, like the way L touched him hit a layer of pleasure under his skin no one else had ever found.

            Running his hands over the lines and planes of L’s body, down the expanse of L’s back, he was frustrated by the interruption of clothing.  Pushing down L’s underwear, he slid his palms over L’s ass, cupping and squeezing the round curves, letting his fingertips delve in between.  He was turned on enough that everything felt good, everything was rich with sexual promise, and the press and slide of L’s body over his was revving him up.

            “Ahh-uuah.”  With a soft, breathy sound, L broke their kiss.  Kicking his underwear off, he pushed Dongwoo’s thigh aside, sliding downward.

            Oh, god, L was going to blow him.  “Okay,” he said, lying back.  “Okay.”  Closing his eyes, he tried to bear it as he felt L’s hand stroking his cock.  But it felt so good and “uuh-oh-oh!” that was L’s mouth and “ah, unh, okay, oh!”  Gasping, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, staring down his body, staring at L, at L’s wide, pink mouth, at the ring of L’s soft lips sliding up and down the shaft of his cock.  The fringe of L’s bangs fell forward, shielding those gorgeous eyes from his view, but he could clearly see the smoothness of L’s cheek, the line of L’s jaw, the pink of L’s tongue as it stroked his shaft.  L was beautiful, and L’s beautiful face was in his crotch, and oh, “Why, why, why do you look like that?” he moaned, collapsing again, covering his own face with his hands.

            L didn’t talk much during sex, and was too busy sucking his cock to answer, anyway.  “Oh, oooohhhh,” Dongwoo moaned, rubbing his hands over his face.  It felt amazing; his whole body was hot with it, pleasure and need twisting through him like ribbons of fire.  “Why, oh, aahhh, too good, too good, yes, uunnnhhh.”  L was sucking him slowly, so slowly, with long, lingering licks and wet, clinging suction.  Groaning, he tossed his head, flinging his arms wide.  “Myungsoo-ah, Myungsoo-goon, huuuunnh, ahhhaahha.  Your mouth, it’s too much, I can’t, I can’t.”

            With a low, breathy sound, L nuzzled around the base of his cock, mouthing his balls.  Throbbing and abandoned, his cock begged for attention, and the suction on his sac turned him on so much that he dug his heels into the mattress, lifting his hips, seeking more.

            Firmly, like a reprimand, L’s hands shoved his hips back down.  Howling with disappointment, he kicked out, too aroused and needy to have any control over his body anymore.  “Ah, I want it,” he moaned, and then the broad flat of L’s tongue swept up the shaft of his erection again, and he shook with a spasm of need, his back arching.  “Ah, ah, yes, help,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, clawing at the sheets, twisting his hips to get deeper into L’s mouth.  “Be good to hyung, please, please.”

            The steady suction seemed to go on forever, his body undulating, riding waves of pleasure.  L lingered between his thighs like his cock was some magnificent, fascinating treat, nuzzling, slurping, licking like every inch was more delicious than the last.  Writhing, crying out to anyone who would listen, Dongwoo tried to take it, but every wet, hungry suck was devastating, and he was dancing all over the bed, unable to contain the ecstasy surging through his body.  Clawing at his own thighs, he rolled his hips, pushing insistently between L’s wet lips, and L only moaned and rode it out, sucking harder.

            It felt like his whole body was vibrating with pleasure, like the intensity of it was setting him on fire, like the way his cock was throbbing was transmitting through all of him, like he was shaking the whole bed, like the walls were about to erupt in flames, like, “Fuck, L, please,” he groaned, scrubbing his hand over his chest, heels skidding across the mattress.  “L-goon, I can’t live like this, I can’t, please, let me come, let me come.”  His hand shaking, he brushed L’s bangs aside.  Fuck, L was beautiful, that smooth skin, the delicate fringe of black lashes, and as he watched, his erection disappeared between L’s pouting pink lips.  He couldn’t believe how amazing it felt, how incredible it looked, pleasure pumping through him, need shaking him, and he couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t make the connection between what he was feeling and this sight, his cock in L’s mouth, his beautiful dongsaeng.  And then, swift and piercing, L’s eyes opened, staring up at him, into him, a sizzling look of passion and desire and carnal knowledge, and Dongwoo moaned helplessly.  Ecstasy jolting him, he came, crying out nonsensically, head falling back, hips jerking as he flooded L’s mouth.  Moaning brokenly, he gasped for breath, wondering if someone had accidentally replaced the room’s air with bliss, if he would die choking on his own pleasure.  As his body shuddered to stillness, his mind cleared, and he whimpered, curling up on his side.  He felt like he could conquer the world, but he needed to sleep for a few years first.  “Shit,” he moaned.  He didn’t know how to move anymore; everything in him was lax with giddy pleasure.  Smiling helplessly at nothing, he giggled.

            Sated and warm, L crept back over him, snuggling in against him with a soft, satisfied sound.  It didn’t seem fair to get such incredible treatment and do nothing in return, but L usually masturbated or got off against the bed during blowjobs, wanting to come together.  As L pressed close and cuddled closer, he figured out how a few of his muscles worked and draped his arm around L’s shoulders.  L always liked to hug for a while after sex stuff, and having L up against his bare skin felt amazing.  Glowing with satisfaction, he hugged L close and sighed happily.

            Maybe he dozed for a moment; maybe he just simmered in the wake of rapture.  After a while, he yawned and opened his eyes.  L was gazing into his face.  “What?” he asked, poking L in the forehead.

            “Nothing.”  L raised a hand, fixing his own bangs.

            Something flickered at the back of his mind.  He dismissed it, kissing L, enjoying the slow, easy way L kissed, squeezing L’s ass.  Then the thought resurfaced.  Oh, right.  “Did you hear about that note?  The one with the jacket?  Hoya said Sunggyu hyung took it.”

            L shrugged, running his thumb along Dongwoo’s collarbone.  “Sunggyu hyung mentioned it.  Did you see it?”

            “Yeah.  It was like lyrics.  ‘I try to wrap my tongue around it / It’s so big, it fills my mouth, baby / I’m not sure if I should swallow / But it feels so smooth going down.’”

            L laughed, looking surprised.  “You memorized it?”

            “I guess so.  I liked it.  It’s sexy.”  He grinned, squeezing L’s ass.  “Why are you blushing?”

            Not replying, L bit his lower lip, avoiding Dongwoo’s eyes, gaze turning inward for a moment.  Then he rolled onto his back, tugging Dongwoo over him, eyes searching Dongwoo’s face.  “Would you like it if someone wrote something like that for you?”

            “Sure.  I don’t think anybody would,” he admitted, laughing.  His fingers combed hair away from L’s face, and he twisted a little, shimmying, enjoying the way L’s hands were stroking his chest.  “But it was sexy.  Whoever it was for is really lucky.”

            Hugging him, L pulled him close.  Sinking onto L’s body, he closed his eyes, shifting to accommodate the snuggle as L’s face nuzzled against his neck.  Such a sweet, weird kid.  He petted L’s side, yawning.  They were still tangled together when he fell asleep.

Home  |  K-pop  |  tumblr  |  Twitter

Copyright November 16, 2013
by Matthew Haldeman-Time