Chapter Text
“Are we actually gonna do this?” Jeno huffs, his hair dishevelled against the sheets as Jaemin scours their drawers for more lube.
The fact of the matter is, Jeno and Jaemin are no strangers in warming up each other’s beds—both literally and figuratively. On some nights, it’s messy kisses, more teeth than tongue, hands gripping and caressing every expanse of skin they could reach and dare to reach. On other nights, it’s wrapping each other in strong, comforting arms, cozy blankets with a quiet movie on display, and they’d fall asleep together without another word.
Jeno is certain this night will be much more like the former, with his own bed clearly inhabitable right now with cum and sweat, among other things. He’ll have to spend another night in Jaemin’s bed, but by the looks of things, he’s doubtful he’ll even get a wink tonight. Jaemin roots another tube out his nightstand with a thick brow raised at him, “You didn’t hear anything from me when I let you fuck my chest.”
And then Jaemin grabs him by his legs, abruptly pulling him closer and turning him over to his stomach. Jeno blushes at the sudden action, huffing, “That was a moment of weakness.”
“Whatever it was, I still did it for you,” Jaemin pulls him up by his hips this time, dragging a pillow to place underneath him so Jeno is more comfortable. He then grabs one cheek with his hand, thumbing comforting circles while he tilts his head to the side to get a glimpse of Jeno’s face, waiting for any sign of discomfort.
All he sees are red ears and a face smushed into the pillows. Jaemin grins, “You owe me one. So be still there and look pretty—can you do that for me?”
“This is ridiculous,” despite Jeno’s protest, he finds himself arching his back and slightly lifting himself off the pillow so Jaemin could slick his thighs with lube.
“You do not wanna go there,” Jaemin chuckles, his hand going farther to stroke Jeno’s cock. He strokes him just right, stroking his frenulum till Jeno quivers and lets out a gasp. His arms buckle underneath him, his ass bucking backwards to Jaemin, and Jeno’s resolve nearly crumbles from that alone.
It is a little ridiculous, no matter how either of them put it. How Jeno finds this entire situation ridiculous when not even an hour ago, he had fucked Jaemin’s chest and came right on the spot. And how Jaemin finds Jeno ridiculous, knowing this fact, and proceeds to do even more ridiculous things with him. Like fucking his thighs, for one.
“Why can’t you just fuck me?” Jeno grits out.
“Why didn’t you just fuck me?” Jaemin retorts in amusement. When he gets nothing but a quiet whimper, a winning smile graces across his lips, “That’s what I thought.”
Ever since they started this arrangement of theirs, Jaemin has always been ready to try out new things with Jeno. Considering the scenes that Jeno wants to play out aren’t as intense, Jaemin was almost never one to say no. He’s vocal with what he wants, what he doesn’t want, what he wants to try out and explore with Jeno.
Jeno, on the other hand, has always been a little timid with his words. Speaks more with his body language, his actions, his lingering gazes and flushed expressions.
Jaemin has to almost always pull it out of him. And neither of them mind. They know each other’s limits, could see and hear it in their little quirks, in the tiniest changes of their voices, their bodies, their tears—it helps to have a system for it too, but knowing each other for so long often comes into play as well. It’s all safe and discussed and they know what to verbally say when it gets too much.
So as long as Jeno doesn’t say the word, Jaemin knows he just has to guide him through it. In an attempt to reassure him, he hovers over Jeno and places a kiss on his temple, going lower to the back of his ear, to his shoulder, down the beautiful curve of his back, with a roaming hand on Jeno’s chest. Tugging at one nipple, Jaemin waits till Jeno’s wound up enough, till he’s shuddering in heated anticipation, till he’s gasping around his name like a prayer.
And it works. Without another sign of discomfort, Jaemin kisses him one last time before wrapping his dick with the leftover lube and pushes in. They groan in unison, broken and breathy, with Jaemin near Jeno’s ear and sending a shiver up his spine.
Jeno cries as Jaemin’s cock slides against his, hitting his already sensitive tip from coming moments ago. He would’ve crumbled and fallen against the mattress if it weren’t for the hand on his chest, keeping him up. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, to have Jaemin so close yet so far. Shifting his weight properly, Jeno regains his strength back to his arms and knees and arches again, taking Jaemin deeper.
Jaemin groans at that, pulling away just enough before thrusting back in. The first slide is so pleasurably electric that he feels his own body light up, the feeling almost as good as being inside Jeno. The tight heat clenches and quivers around him, the position both so new yet pleasantly welcomed to them.
Jaemin adjusts Jeno’s hips closer to him, the veins in his hands and arms even more prominent at the use of strength and he thrusts in all over again. The delicious friction of skin against skin—it’s enough to send him delirious, feeling the muscles clench around him and engulf him whole.
“Jaem…” Jeno whimpers, untensing his thighs to give him more room to move. But Jaemin pushes them closer together, encouraging him to go tighter, to let the lube do its job. And when he does, Jaemin can’t help the breathless sound he makes from the tight heat.
“Fuck. You feel so good around me, Jeno,” Jaemin pulls away again, squeezing Jeno’s ass as he slides back in. The throes of pleasure claw right at him, like they’re surrounding him from all the sides, taking his breath away with every time he pistons his hips and feels Jeno’s raw, wet skin slide against his.
Within moments, Jaemin creates a rhythm of his own, thrusting in and out, in and out, filling the room with wet, filthy noises. Of lewd slaps of skin against skin, of mewls and whimpers, of sounds of the slick sliding between their connected bodies. They fill their shared room with their broken symphonies, Jaemin thrusting deeper and deeper into him, Jeno twitching and bucking against him with a cry.
With his lip in between his teeth, Jeno’s gaze drops to where they’re connected underneath him and he gasps at the sight. Jaemin’s cock in between his thighs, sliding against his, lube glistening and dripping down his skin, making an even bigger mess on the sheets. His cock feels so sensitive with the AC’s breeze and the wet sheen of lube over him, trembling with every hard thrust Jaemin makes.
Tears spring in the corner of his eyes, Jeno’s body so wound up that even a mere touch and tweak on his nipple has him convulsing from pleasure. He tries to pry Jaemin’s hand away, but he’s afraid to lose his balance once he moves his arm out of its place. Instead, he keeps himself up, still so good and pliant on his fours, taking Jaemin like he was made for this. He arches his back just enough and keens.
Each slide drags against his underside, reaching the most sensitive parts of his cock, rendering him to a leaking, sobbing mess on the sheets. Each slide so filthy and messy, it has Jeno clenching his thighs together to feel more of him, to feel more of Jaemin.
It’s surreal, how Jaemin has only quietly dreamed of this and now, it’s right here, just for him. He’s seen Jeno in those wretched cycling shorts in their biking trips, has seen how the dark material hugs his sinful thighs and leaves almost nothing to the imagination. He’s seen every line and shadow that adorn his muscles, every dip and bead of sweat that trailed down his thighs after his leg workout and every moment of it has been hell to Jaemin.
Although Jaemin often voices out his fantasies, he’s not at the very least selfish. With practice and workouts alternating with the other, Jaemin had decided to keep his desire to himself at first, a little secret—at least until their schedule allowed them to.
Jaemin pulls out from Jeno’s thighs, eyeing the wet mess he’s made around the small gap and licks his lip. It is surreal, how devastatingly gorgeous Jeno looks like this: peering over his shoulder with a confused, hazy gaze, his cheeks flushed and his mouth agape for more. Jaemin brushes his wet hair back and grips Jeno by his waist, pulling him closer till his tip grazes against his asshole, teasing, taunting.
Just as Jeno could move to have him inside of him, the grip around his waist pressed firmer. It puts him right in his place, all needy and desperate underneath him, and the grin that Jaemin gives him is downright evil. Then he pushes back into his closed thighs and slides back home.
“Unh, Jaem—!” Jeno moans at the sudden friction. Jaemin chuckles lowly at the tiny sound he makes, pounding in and out of him in a rapidly building pace. He drapes his body over Jeno’s and leaves ghosting kisses across his back and at one whimper Jeno makes, Jaemin’s mouth moves on its own to bite down.
At the sinking bite, Jeno couldn’t help how his body reacted. His thighs tense around Jaemin, the soft, pudgy muscles suddenly turning firm, giving Jaemin a warmer, tighter space to move into. The sound he makes is low and guttural, his hips stuttering before continuing his rough pace, all without forgetting to leave a soothing lick and a chaste kiss on the mark he had left. The stark juxtaposition and renewed rhythm makes Jeno see stars, both his gaze and focus going blurrier, foggier. He doesn’t even realize when he moves his legs to cross his ankles behind him, squeezing his thighs tighter together just to feel Jaemin’s sharp teeth and hear his raw voice again.
Jaemin must have figured him out cause then he pulls out of Jeno, his warmth so good, his presence so firm, so dangerously close to his hole that Jeno almost lets out a disappointed whine when he slides back in between his thighs. The friction and pleasure he gives him are just a bit far from enough, so used to having Jaemin inside of him that anything other than it makes him want to fall apart in frustration.
“Are you gonna come, Jeno?” Jaemin whispers to the shell of his ear, feeling his sensitive chest and his tightening abdomen under his wandering hand.
Jeno shakes his head, close to tears as Jaemin continues pounding into him, “I—I can’t…”
Not like this. He has already come once and his body’s too exhausted, too wound up, to come untouched. Jeno could feel Jaemin thrust faster, his dick rubbing against him and pressing his own closer to his abdomen.
Beads of precum glaze over his stomach before dropping down the bed, creating more wet patches that Jeno can’t even be bothered to worry about right now. He’s too stuck in his head, so caught up in the pleasure that nothing else matters but Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin. Still, the rough friction is enough to send shivers of electricity through his system, but not enough to make him finish with a familiar high-pitched keen.
“Do you want to?” Jaemin asks again, low and raspy.
Jeno nods, tiny noises pushing past his lips at each thrust that Jaemin pushes into him. Little broken moans that are ripped out of him as Jaemin quickens his pace, giving him more, more, more. A finger rubs and tweaks around Jeno’s nipple, making him flinch in his hold with his eyes screwed shut.
It’s a bit of everything, a hot sensation behind him, an insistent hand against his chest, a warm, firm body draped over his—so mind-numbingly good that it has Jeno’s expression melting.
Jaemin wraps a hand around Jeno’s nape and pushes.
“Make us come, Jen,” Jaemin breathes out, pushing him down by the back of his neck till Jeno’s face is pressed down the pillows. “I know you can do it.”
Like this, Jeno doesn’t need much strength in his arms to hold himself up anymore. Instead, he plants one palm into the mattress and wraps the other around their cocks and does exactly as he’s told. He digs his chin into the pillows and strokes them together—pulling out a moan from him that is like music to his ears.
Jeno feels Jaemin throb in his hold, warm and heavy, wet with lube and precum to make the slide easier. He jerks both of them off, enough to make Jaemin grunt and shudder behind him. Every flick of his wrist is hurried, messy with no finesse, just reaching their spine-chilling pleasure in his mind. Nothing about it is calculated, so undeniably raw and desperate that it has Jeno’s eyes crossing amidst the pillows.
Not wanting to finish so quickly, Jaemin pulls away just slightly and thrusts back in again. It’s uncoordinated and sluggish, but when he pushes inside of him it reaches Jeno’s loose fist, grazing against his sensitive frenulum and length. Wet, sloppy sounds of skin slapping into another filling the room with Jeno’s muffled voice on the covers.
Jeno keeps his hand around his cock loose enough to let Jaemin slide into it at every thrust, feeling it pulsate and leak around his palm. Jaemin’s stomach tightens as he feels his climax approaching, every drag along his walls bringing him closer and closer to completion. But just as he could reach that high of his, Jeno’s fist tightens around his own cock and he cries in pleasure. His blissed-out shudder and wanton moan is cut off as he comes on the sheets, stroking himself slower and milking himself dry.
Jaemin watches Jeno limp onto the mattress, watches his limbs fall pliant and listens to the relieved yet exhausted sigh that he heaves. When he’s sure he’s caught his breath, he flips Jeno over and carries him up near the headboard. Jeno yelps at that, but lets Jaemin position him till he’s half laying down and half sitting upright against the mountain of pillows and waits.
“What—?” Jeno doesn’t bother continuing his question once he sees Jaemin put more lube on his chest and instead hisses at its coldness. The clear, sticky substance clings onto his skin and it doesn’t take long till Jaemin’s spreading it across his chest—more particularly, on the space between his pecs. Jaemin moves to straddle his torso and inches closer, closer, and closer.
And then he slides back in. Jaemin squeezes the muscles around his weeping cock, thrusting back in and out till he finally realises why Jeno was so adamant on doing this in the first place. He holds them close together, pushing in between the tight space, the friction making his mind melt and pour out his ears. He could hear nothing but the wet squelch of lube between his dick and Jeno’s plump pecs, sliding so sinfully smooth with a pleasure so burning it eats him up whole.
“God, now I know why you wanted this so bad,” Jaemin grunts, gripping his chest tighter in his hold and building his erratic tempo. It’s so soft and plush underneath him, so warm and wet just for him.
“You’re gonna come like this?” Jeno’s smile is sleazy, bright and cocky with his afterglow. His hand comes up to stroke at the back of Jaemin’s thigh, caressing the golden skin with his own till his hand reaches his ass and squeezes in the same way he did to him. Fingers digging just enough to leave a mark of his own.
Jaemin stares down at him with a mirrored grin, “Mhm, but I don’t want to make a mess either.”
It goes without saying, without another word uttered. Jaemin’s grin widens as Jeno lazily rests his head against the board and opens his mouth for him, tongue lolling out, ready to taste his satiated hunger and pleasure. With a breathless chuckle, Jaemin quickens his thrust. He savours the deep ridges of Jeno’s muscles around him for as much as he can, the wet and tight heat clenching around him.
Just like Jaemin, Jeno tenses his muscles and guides him through it with a hand on the small of his back. He squeezes and slaps the cheeks, rubbing comforting shapes with his thumb.
And with one last wet thrust and a graze against his sensitive tip, Jaemin comes right on the spot. His cum spurts across Jeno’s waiting mouth, dribbling down his chin and neck. Jeno licks and takes in what he can, mind reeling at his heedy taste and musk. His mind spins and god, he can’t wait to do this all over again.
A drop or two lands under Jeno's eye and Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to lean in and taste himself, giving his cheek kitten licks before pulling away to properly catch his breath this time.
Jaemin plops down to the side and huffs. His chest heaves up and down, an arm thrown over his eyes as Jeno hauls himself closer to the pack of wet wipes. He takes one for himself, wiping down his chest and between his thighs, before taking another for Jaemin.
Jaemin hisses at the damp cloth around his sensitive skin, but lets Jeno work nonetheless. In mere moments, they find themselves moving to Jaemin’s bed and wrapped in each other’s arms with a heavy blanket.
Jeno has his face tucked underneath Jaemin’s chest, close to his chest and neck. The lights were off and only the quiet beating of their hearts could be heard. Or, it was until Jeno spoke again and interrupted Jaemin’s way to his slumber, “Hey, Jaem? What do you think about tummy fucking?”
“Goodnight, Jeno.”