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Summary
It’s almost too easy for him to get lost in it, hands finding support on Yunho’s shoulders, the back of the couch; the course of his hips as he goes up and down in rotation, abdomen undulating to the words “drive me crazy, drive me crazy” because this is supposed to be a lap dance, right? That’s what he’s supposed to do. So San puts everything in it, down to the way he narrows his eyelids into determined slits.
But Yunho is looking up at him too and San shudders from what he sees in those eyes: pupils blown and dark, every single time Yunho blinks, the movement slows and soon San is staring at a half-lidded Yunho he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.
It spurs him on.