Letters On Our Skin || BangChan

53 (explicit)

A soft thumping on my door, and then it opens.
Chan slips through on his tiptoes, softly closing the door behind him.
Immediately, my heart starts beating ten times faster. I can feel it pulse through my body.
I sit up in bed as he turns to face me. For a moment, neither of us dares to speak or move at all.
Then, as if he was suddenly jerked awake, Chan crosses the floor and crawls beneath my blanket, pulling me to his chest.
My arms wrap around his body all by themselves and I melt into him the way I always do, like our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly aligned.
He takes a deep breath, pressing his lips against my temple.
I can hear his heartbeat in his chest.
I whisper in the dark, "I'm sorry I left so early, but I wanted to be alone for a moment."
I am not afraid to be honest with him about this. I know he won't judge me.
"That is okay," Chan whispers back, "I get that. And you really didn't miss anything other than Minho trying to stuff Seungmin with sand like a puppet."
I chuckle, the picture clear in my mind.
He adds, "Was it just a lot today or is there something on your mind?"
Chan knows me too well. I still have to tell him that I plan on leaving tomorrow.
With Minho's words from earlier today in my mind, I loosen my arms around Chan and make way for air between us. I pull the blanket around us and scoot to sit across from him. Chan's hand finds it's way to my thigh and I can't help but smile. I love how he always has to find a way to touch me, like he can't get enough of the feeling of my skin beneath his fingertips.

"There actually is something I haven't told you yet," I begin, "When I planned this vacation for you guys, I thought that it would be best if I give you as much time with your family as possible."
Chan stays quiet, only looking at me, and I swallow thickly. My eyes dip down to my hands, clasped together in my lap.
"And I also thought it would be better for everyone if I leave tomorrow."
The moment I say it I realize that I don't actually want that. I want to stay. But I also know that it would give Chan the chance to concentrate solely on his family, to fully make the best of these few days before his family has to leave for Australia again.
"No," Chan's voice has grown a bit louder and I put a finger on my lips before he says, "I don't want you to go."
"It would give you the chance to concentrate on your family," I answer, "Without me here, you don't have to worry about me or what I'm doing. You should enjoy this time with your family."
"You're part of my family." Chan's eyes are dark and he scrunches his eyebrows together. "It's not complete without you here."
I place my hand on his cheek, a sad smile on my lip.
"You're making this really hard for me, Chan. I thought it was the best thing to do."
"It's not." He takes a deep breath and curls one hand into my blanket. "What do I have to do for you to stay here with me?"

I meet his eyes and something in me breaks, seeing the desperation in his face.
My head dips forward as I sigh, and my forehead meets his, the tips of our noses grazing against each other.
"Ask me," I whisper breathlessly, "Ask me to stay."
Chan does not miss a beat.
"Stay for me. Stay here with me." His hand on the blanket loosens. "Please."
My hands find their way to the collar of his shirt and I curl my fingers into the fabric, pulling him closer until there is nothing but a hint of air left between our lips and my body arches against his. I close my eyes.
Chan wraps an arm around my waist, his hand on my back, pulling me even closer.
This is as far as we've ever gone.
Nearly touching our lips, nearly kissing. Nearly, but never there.
I swallow, then whisper against his lips, "I'll stay."
I can feel Chan's chest rising and falling with every breath he takes and my legs uncross themselves, as I push myself onto my knees. My body slides onto Chan's laps, with glacial pace.
"Tell me if you want me to stop."
The words come out breathlessly. When Chan doesn't say anything, I place one of my legs to each side of Chan's lap, and he leans back slightly to lean against the headboard of my bed.
I settle on his lap again, shifting my hips to a more comfortable position.
One of my hands finds its way to the back of Chan's neck and I twirl a few curls between my fingertips. With the other hand, I lazily draw shapes down his biceps, around his elbow, and down his forearm, until I can get a hold of his hand that was still curled around the fabric of my blanket.
"Tell me to stop," I say again.
Chan opens his eyes and I look at him, not moving. I give him time, and I can see in his face he considers it. But he stays silent, and so I move his hand to the space where my shirt and my sleeping shorts meet. His eyes go dark, and I bite my lip.
I want him to touch me, I want to feel his warm hands on my skin.
I nod slowly, just once, and he understands. He has my permission.
Carefully, he lifts my shirt with his hand and grazes the bare skin of my hips and waist with his fingers. His other hand is on my thigh again, and I can feel him shake slightly.
A tiny tremor, shaking his whole body.
Our eyes are locked on each other when I slowly start moving my hips back and forth, rhythmically shifting my middle against his.
"Tell me to stop," I say again, and this time I could hear the desire in my own voice.
If he tells me to stop, I will, no questions asked. But, God, I hope he doesn't.
Because I can feel him, all of him, reacting to me.
His thumb driving over my lowest rib, making me suck in a breath of air. His thighs flexing, making me scoot even closer to him, making me press my middle against him as I keep moving my hips, back and forth, back and forth.
The hand that was placed on my thigh travels higher now, pulling playfully at the waistband of my shorts, before slipping beneath my shirt.
His fingers are gentle and careful, testing the terrain.
Chan works his way up slowly, and the anticipation nearly kills me.
I squeeze my legs around his hips as I rock forward, pressing myself against him.
Hurry up.
He understands. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he moves even slower up my body, drawing shapes and letters onto my naked back, my ribs, my waist. His eyes are half-closed, dipping from my eyes down to my lips from time to time.
He's playing coy with me, toying with me, because he knows how desperate I am to feel his hands on the sensitive parts of my body.
I almost grab his hand and move it myself, but I don't. Because I want him to set the pace and I want him to be sure he really wants this.
My hands drive into his hair and I grab his curls, pulling slightly, and he groans.
It's a glorious sound, raw and defeated.
"Tell me to stop," I say again, but his eyes meet mine the exact moment his thumbs drive over the lower curve of my breasts.
A sigh escapes me and I bite my lip to keep quiet, and Chan freezes for two seconds, watching me with wide eyes, like he has never seen me before.
Then he presses his forehead against mine again, and whispers, "Don't stop."
And then, with the force of a thousand hurricanes, he finally presses his lips against mine.