Fics like you go to my head

Even with a couple drags already in his system, it’s hard for him to stop thinking about how Sunoo’s thighs look so incredibly soft and smooth, even under the dim light coming overheard from the rearview mirror. His pleated skirt ends perfectly mid-thigh and in his sick mind, it would be so easy for him to slip his hand in between them right there, to feel, and to see, if what he imagines in the late night is true. It doesn’t help either that Sunoo is wearing one of his own sweatshirts, the one that’s brown and oversized, the one that’s disappeared from his wardrobe so long ago that it’s not even a concern for him anymore because his best friend looks absolutely stunning in it anyway, practically swimming in its long sleeves. He’s always been fascinated by how much smaller Sunoo is. “Hey.” Sunghoon drags his eyes away from Sunoo’s thighs when Sunoo moves in closer to him from his seat. He waits, blinking slowly as the high starts to hit him. “Secondhand that to me?” Or, just Sunghoon and Sunoo hotboxing during a steamy, rainy night and secrets spill like the smoke from their mouths

Fics like you go to my head

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