Something More // Zhang Yixing

rejection

Your eyes lingered on the boy's chocolate brown hair and his cheeky grin. Your chin set in the palm of your hand, you tried your best to remain inconspicuous as you watched him laugh, the same warm flutter of butterflies in your stomach as always. You supposed it was pathetic that you had such feelings and such desperation for the one boy you couldn't have, when you were fucking Chanyeol, the school's heartthrob. You had what everyone else wanted, but you still weren't contented.

However, you would never move on from the way Jongin had made you feel. You would never forget his serene kissed and his gentle touch and his fluttery eyelids and his soft, soft brown hair—

"You're staring."

Broken from your lovely daydream, you turned to the boy sat next to you and furrowed your eyebrows, "Shut up, Yixing."

"Hey, I thought I'd save you the embarrassment of being caught staring by someone else, like, I don't know, Jongin or his girlfriend."

Your mouth turned down at the mention of the skinny with poorly dyed hair that was dating Jongin. She had a constant off-and-on type of relationship with him, and she was also the one who danced with him every year at The War. If Jongin had not been such an immaculate dancer that captivated everyone's attention, you were sure her clumsy dance moves would have gotten them kick out of The War years ago. You scoffed; even with the minimal practice you had, you were definitely a better dancer than her.

"Have... have you spoken to Chanyeol at all?"

You shook your head, "No... not yet. I..."

Yixing smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes like usual, "It's okay, Yejin. There's no rush; I don't want to pressure you, kitten."

You scowled at the nickname in disgust even though you knew it would only drive Yixing to use it on you more often. Class began, and Yixing swiveled around in his seat, winking at you.

»«

There wasn't much that was more exhilarating than deep-throating Chanyeol, if you were going to be honest with yourself. You didn't often him off, and even less often did you manage to fit most of his huge in your mouth. However, when you had arrived at Chanyeol's place, one thing lead to another even though you had mentioned you needed to talk to him. He had insisted his problem be taken care of first, and you let him convince you into it.

His hand held your hair back as you tried your best to cram him into your mouth. His thick took up most of the room your mouth had to offer, your teeth scraping his (which he did not mind, at all), and letting him shove himself down your throat was always a struggle. He tried to be gentle, but the desperation and yearning to always had him a little too excited, his hips bucking so that his slid down your throat. You gagged and choked, of course, but Chanyeol grunted and groaned at the reverberations, clearly . Finally, his hisp stuttered in ing sloppily into your mouth, his spilling down your throat. He held himself all the way down your throat, swearing explicitly, but you whimpered and he finally pulled out.

You in a breath, coughing, and Chanyeol played with your hair, sweeping it back and away from your face. You let him, although you found the act less than endearing, and once you had caught your breath, you wiped your mouth and stood up.

"Chanyeol, we need to talk—"

"I know we do. We need to talk about where you got those pretty hickies," he interrupted, slipping his boxers and pants over his still hard . "Because you certainly didn't get them from me."

You found yourself speechless, unprepared for the question. Clearly, you had underestimated Chanyeol and overestimated his stupidity.

"So, Yejin, you wanted to talk? Let me guess. It's about Yixing."