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It had always made sense to him why he was attracted to Donghyuck.
When they had met so many years before, the man was a beam of sunlight on a Sunday morning. Donghyuck was the summer dew that dropped from heaven in layers of warmth, and the sweet honey that tempted over and over again.
What he knew of Donghyuck then was a false creation. Not everything, just that which was fundamentally the core of the other man.
Because yes, Donghyuck was laced with everything Yangyang had ever wanted; he was calm and caring. The man was potent enough to leave a strong taste in the back of his throat, and make him come back for more. Time and time again.
But by no means was Donghyuck an angelic lover. While he carried the lightness of a feather and the prowess of a cool night’s breeze, he was never soft.
He was a storm.
It didn’t take Yangyang long to realize the truth behind Donghyuck. It was obvious to see in the way he chose to love. Yangyang was loved with winds that weathered him to his ultimate self. Lighting sparked a new life in him that he had never known before meeting his boyfriend. It was marvelous. Yangyang was addicted.
And yet, he had never known a love quite as vulnerable as the one that he found himself caught in. With his heart bared to the winds of Donghyuck, Yangyang fell deeper and deeper into the howl of the storm. Mostly, he was centered at the eye of it all, but sometimes—briefly, when the draft shifted in his favor—he was ravished in everything Donghyuck had to offer. When these times came to pass, he welcomed the magnetic tides and the raging winds.
There were layers to Donghyuck and his storms, and Yangyang pleasured in being caught in them all, especially the fires that surrounded him.
There was always a strange glow to the other man that Yangyang just couldn’t ignore. He thought it was lovely, the warmth of the mischief nestled neatly between petals of love.
And quickly, he learned what it meant to be burned by him—by love itself. It wasn’t a scolding pain or something that hurt, it was quite the opposite. Donghyuck, like flames, flickered in his size and varied in his shape. He was a kind fire and a blazing sun all at once, with wisps of smoke at the edges of each of his smiles and sparks deep behind his eyes.
There was no part of Yangyang left untouched in the managed frenzy of Donghyuck.
Yangyang loved the fire against his lips and his jaw, and especially the kind that steeped itself deep into his lungs—there for far too long and strong enough to shrivel him up. He couldn’t get enough of the bright love against his lips. It was almost harsh as Donghyuck shoved his way in, but he loved the taste. He felt as if heaven had dug up into him and infinitely singed him.
He quickly realized there was no better feeling in the world.
Yangyang felt as though he were burning in the deepest parts in the abode of the damned, yet he never dared escape. For he sat on a throne of delight, delicately carved just for him.
Even though it stung on the way down—even though Donghyuck licked flames into his mouth and shot smoke into his system—he basked in it. He caressed the sides of flames and loved against the brutal heat to nip at his neck, then his collarbone, and then onward to places he never thought he’d see alight.
Their love wasn’t always like this. It used to be something softer and full of caution. Now, well, it was stronger and deeper. It was scolding hot to the touch but danced gracefully on his fingertips.
Donghyuck was no ordinary storm. He didn’t harm, but he did surge.
Plush lips and light huffs into the sparked air shook his world. Donghyuck rained over him with each bite against his bottom lip—every question of entrance. Yangyang responded each time, allowing the other man to take him fully, completely.
Yangyang thought Donghyuck was the rising wildfire from the pits of hell and the definite hurricane all the same.
It had always made sense to him why he was attracted to Donghyuck, for how could he not love the storm beneath his skin, sizzling and waiting to consume him.