The second Jongin realizes what he has done, he panics. Nothing about this is redeemable. He’s not even—he doesn’t think about men like that, and definitely not enough to have accidentally sent a picture of his ass to his also straight sunbae. He doesn’t even know why he still has his number saved; they worked on a group project together a year ago in that terrible sociology course Jongin is sure they both regret, and nothing since. They have a few interlacing friends, are barely acquaintances. Sometimes a nod of acknowledgement or greeting, but little else. And Jongin just sent him a picture of his ass.
Or, his lower body, he can justify this—it’s sideways just from his waist down, standard gym mirror pic, because he and Junmyeon are building muscle, and even though Junmyeon does better with torso and upper, Jongin aces at leg day. His butt and thighs are so firm now, with muscle instead of barebones. He wanted to brag. It’s just—he typed sunbae, chose Kyungsoo sunbae instead of Junmyeon sunbae, and sent to someone else, it is suggestive. Oh, God, he will die.
What if Kyungsoo thinks he’s hitting on him? He stares at the text thread with horror. Part of him wants to send a thousand apologies, but that means acknowledging it with further proof. Maybe, he thinks, an absolute idiot, the picture didn’t go through.
Then he gets a message, a line of grey sliding in as he stares in panic.
Oh, wow. That’s incredible.
Sirens blare in Jongin’s head. is this Kyungsoo sunbae?
Yes. This is Jongin, yeah?
well yes but that pic was an accident i didnt mean it im sry
i wasnt trying to start anything im not rly into guys
Don’t think I’m into men either and yet
Jongin is confused. That’s not a full sentence, is it?
And yet I still wanna eat you out
Jongin’s eyes widen. What? What? Literally what is he saying—
Please tell me if I make you uncomfortable, but even a straight man can admit that you are objectively attractive.
And this picture goes a bit beyond that
You’re not missing leg day, huh?
Jongin shifts. It is Saturday night, he lies in bed, and before he screwed up, he was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. There is no reason for this awkward twist to his gut. Does it make him uncomfortable? Maybe not in a way he wants.
junmyeon hyung and i work out
You’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect
Have you ever been eaten out?
Jongin can admit to himself that compliments are nice. He’s doing good, Kyungsoo says. The rest of it is… a lot. Inexplicably, perhaps because of the adrenaline, his dick swells. He shifts again and pulls the comforter up over his head. If he ignores his dick, it will go down.
How can he reply to Kyungsoo? After too much deliberation, he settles on, thank you sunbae and hits send with bated breath.
You’re very polite, Jongin
But you didn’t answer my question
The sirens blare louder. He will die. You can end the conversation whenever, he gave you an out, some stupid nest of his brain reminds him. Jongin cannot just end the conversation, that, it—that’s rude.
no I havent
Have you ever eaten anyone out?
um only girls but not
not like their butts, just normal
Normal is relative, I think
Girls love being rimmed, but I hear it’s more sensitive for guys
I’d love to test that theory out with you
Jongin flushes, face so hot it must be beet-red. Yet there’s still so much blood flowing down, and his—his dick hurts, he’s so hard. How is he so hard from this? Maybe just the casual discussion of sex, how blunt Kyungsoo is. Maybe it just feels good being wanted. He trails his hand down to his crotch, cupping his cock, hisses at the brief contact between his thin boxers. It’s just the adrenaline, the rush of panic and embarrassment from the accidental message. It makes sense that his body is wired.
Will you let me?
Jongin—how can he answer? Is it rude if he says no? Why doesn’t—the thought of saying no makes something wrong settle in his throat.
i dont know
what is it like
I can’t say personally, but I’m told it’s a necessary experience, especially for someone with an ass as pretty as yours
Can I send you a visual?
Pretty, Kyungsoo says. Jongin presses down on his cock. This conversation is out of control. How can he say no?
Kyungsoo takes a moment to reply, and Jongin worries that maybe “ok” was the wrong answer; Kyungsoo was so nice before, but what if this is an elaborate joke, what if this is one of his friends, what if—but then he gets a message. All it is is a link, but when Jongin clicks it, it opens to a tweet with a video. It’s—a very graphic and very not-safe-for-work video; two men, a close shot of someone’s ass, hands gripping the tight flesh of it apart, close cropped black hair wet on the, the top’s forehead as he licks his tongue into the other man’s asshole, getting it wet and open. It looks… Jongin can’t breathe. The noises the bottom makes are mesmerizing, these hitched little moans, long exhales of breath, like it feels so good his lungs might give out, the way he pushes his ass back onto that broad, pink tongue, the way he arches and tightens when the tongue starts fucking in—it cuts off.
Somehow, in the midst of total enrapture, Jongin started jerking himself off, hand just under his boxers as he fucks his hand, hips almost senseless. He feels senseless. He feels out of body, he’s never been this turned on before.
Do you like it?
yes, Jongin answers immediately. yes
Make it even better for you than that
Will you let me?
Fuck you make me so hard
Is it okay if I send you a picture of myself? To show you?
To show you. Jongin knows what he means, that this will cross into something dirtier, something Jongin cannot brush off in the morning. Maybe he already reached that line. He likes that Kyungsoo asks permission, but the necessity of an answer is nerve-wracking.
Are you sure?
Jongin scowls. are u teasing me
Only a little, Kyungsoo replies. In just a minute, a picture sets into the message thread, and for several minutes, Jongin cannot breathe. Of course Jongin’s seen someone else’s dick before, but never hard, never sexualized, and he was never turned on by locker room nudity, let alone so turned on that his cock leaks precome and he has to grip it tight to stave off orgasm. What the fuck, he thinks, what the fuck. Kyungsoo is also lying down in bed, boxer-briefs pushed down just under his balls, full and heavy, his cock big as it rests on his stomach with his palm curled over it. Jongin did this. Just an accidental picture of his bum, and he made Kyungsoo this hard.
Can’t stop thinking about eating you out, want it so badly
Grab your ass and pull you in, like in the video
snube, Jongin typos, hand frantic on his cock, sunbae please i.
Are you touching yourself?
yes yes i dont know how im idk im hard imsorry
Don’t be sorry, Jongin
Wish that I was the only making you come from my tongue inside you, getting your hole wet
Gonna fuck you like that until you come
Jongin does come, gasping loudly and arching off the bed as he releases into his hand, far too much come just from masturbating. He wonders how much Kyungsoo comes, bets it’s a lot, God, he wants to eat Jongin out, Jongin has to turn his face into his pillow to muffle his noises, the easy way he sobs around the pleasure.
When he recovers enough to brace a look at his phone, there is only one message from Kyungsoo.
Did you come?
mmm. did u, Jongin replies, endorphins floating around his body.
Almost, wish I had another picture of your ass to get me there
Because Jongin is still hazy from orgasm, pliant and sleepy, he turns into his side, angles his phone, and snaps the best image he can of his ass before sending it to Kyungsoo without a second thought.
Fuck fuck fuck
Okay, Jongin thinks when he wakes up from his post-orgasm nap. I fucked up.
This, he can’t justify. When he grits his teeth, still hidden under the comforter, and checks his messages, all Kyungsoo sent is Was that okay? and I’m sorry if I was pushy, I didn’t mean to be. The worst part is that Kyungsoo wasn’t, not really, Jongin was hard from just the slightest bit of attention, God, shit, fuck. Fuck.
The picture Kyungsoo sent him is still there, and Jongin thinks he’ll die if he acknowledges it, but not a worse death than the grainy picture he sent Kyungsoo from, like, no prompting. At least he knows his angles. He hates that his ass apparently has an angle now.
He wants to text Junmyeon or Sehun, like he does for all of his worst moments, but how will he talk this one out? I sent Do Kyungsoo pictures of my ass and came from messages about him eating me out? Ugh. He can’t have some sort of gay crisis on a Saturday.
Well, it’s not like he makes a habit of this. Sometimes arousal clouds the mind, and Jongin likes compliments, he likes acknowledgment for his effort. Dirty talk is dirty regardless of gender, and it’s not like he, like, was begging for dick or anything. Kyungsoo only ever dates girls, too, so Jongin is sure that it was just a moment of hazy regret for both of them.
He tells himself this, but still doesn’t delete the conversation or the pictures.
Jongin is so conscious of his body now. Whenever he does squats with Junmyeon, all that plays in his mind is you’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect, like some stupid audio loop of eternal embarrassment.
“You’re distracted,” Junmyeon says a few days later, jolting Jongin back to their campus gym and where he stands staring into space with weights in his hands. “You alright?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jongin says, shaking his head to clear it. “Just a busy week, I guess.”
“You spent all of last night letting Sehun throw M&M’s into your mouth,” Junmyeon reminds him.
“My mind is just always leaps and bounds ahead of yours, loser.”
Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “Well, you know you can always talk to me, right?”
“Sunbae, we’re talking right now,” Jongin says, just to be an asshole, but he laughs when Junmyeon pushes his head to the side with a cursed insult.
Jongin tries not to appear out of it, but Junmyeon knows him enough to know when silence is best. Whatever, whatever, he will get over this in a day or two. Jongin is an adult, and he will repress his experiences like one.
Or he would, if Chanyeol didn’t live to spite him. Just two days later, when Jongin is back at the gym with Junmyeon and waiting for Chanyeol to join them, he hears, “I brought Kyungsoo along with me, hope that’s fine!” and freezes mid-pushup.
“‘Course it’s fine, idiot,” Junmyeon says. “Kyungsoo and I are basically best friends.”
“Is that so,” an amused, honey-warm voice says, and Jongin stops breathing. No. Fuck. This can’t be happening.
“You like me best,” Junmyeon confirms, laughing when Chanyeol whines in disagreement.
“It’s just choosing between two equal evils,” Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin forces himself to resume his pushups, ignores the anxious twist in his chest. Tries to.
“Jongin-ah, don’t be rude, say hi,” Chanyeol says, kicking Jongin in the side like that’s an appropriate greeting.
“Fuck you,” Jongin says, sitting up and glaring up at Chanyeol. He avoids Kyungsoo. “Why kick me there, shithead, you know I get sore!”
“Yah, language,” Chanyeol says. “You’re the worst hoobae ever.”
“Eat my—“ Jongin starts to say, but his ears get hot and he fumbles out a weak, “shut up,” instead.
Junmyeon, because he’s the worst best friend in the world, nudges Jongin’s side, too. “So you’re not gonna say hi to my best friend, Kyungsoo?”
“‘S not like it’s the first time we’re meeting,” Jongin mumbles, looking down at his lap.
Junmyeon extends his arm to help Jongin up. Jongin takes it, braces his palm on the floor to balance up. “This is why he replaced you two minutes ago.”
“Ha ha,” Jongin deadpans. He swallows. “Hi, Kyungsoo sunbae.”
“Hi, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says quietly. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Jongin clears his throat. To Junmyeon and Chanyeol, he raises his voice and demands, “so are we gonna work out or stare at each other for two hours?”
“But you’re so great to stare at,” Chanyeol jokes, batting his lashes at Jongin.
Kyungsoo laughs, and Junmyeon shoves Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You’re the reason people think gays only think about sex,” he says.
“No, that’s homophobia,” Chanyeol replies. “Like you and Sehun aren’t the worst.”
“It’s different because we’re attractive,” Junmyeon argues. He wraps his arm around Chanyeol’s waist. “Right, Jonginnie?”
Jongin shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, don’t ask me.”
“Don’t straight guy us!” Junmyeon is so loud. “Beauty can exist regardless of gender.”
“You’re all ugly,” Jongin says. He stares at his shoes. He wishes his Nikes really did fly. He wants to be miles away from this moment.
“Definitely less ugly than Chanyeol, hyung,” Kyungsoo offers.
Junmyeon high-fives Kyungsoo. “See, Nini, Kyungsoo’s straight and he can still admit basic truths.”
“I mean, you’re still ugly,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “But relative to Chanyeol…”
“Don’t call me Nini,” Jongin snaps, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. He fails.
“But you’re our baby,” Chanyeol says. He leans in to poke Jongin’s cheek, but Jongin shoves his hand away.
“Seriously, stop.” God, not in front of Kyungsoo, not when he called Jongin baby when he came, not something as diminutive as Nini.
Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “What’s your issue today?”
“You guys are just fucking annoying,” Jongin grumbles. “Find me when you’re serious.” He stomps—walks away to the treadmills. He’s gonna run until he passes out.
It’s fucked that he almost does pass out, a long hour running too fast at the highest incline without water until someone stops the track and he almost trips, heaving, out of breath.
“Hey, hey, don’t kill yourself,” says Junmyeon, pushing a water bottle into his hand. “Come on, you only drank a smoothie for breakfast, you know better.”
Jongin chugs the water bottle, gasping around the tightness in his lungs. He lowers his head. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, I know. Jongin, seriously, are you okay?”
Jongin shrugs. “Thanks for the water, Myeonnie hyung.”
Junmyeon furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah, of course. Class in an hour. You wanna take a break or do a few sets with Chanyeol and I?”
Jongin steps off the treadmill. “Think I’ll shower.”
The showers are bare. He takes his time, head tilted up up under the hot spray of water until his heart stops racing. His dick swelled to half the moment he saw Kyungsoo, even though he avoided direct contact, but damned if he acknowledges it. Instead he wraps a towel around his waist, sighs, walks to his rented locker and pulls out his duffel.
All he has on are boxer-briefs when he hears, “Jongin,” low and too close. Jongin jumps seventy feet in the air, clutching his t-shirt to his chest when he turns around to stare at Kyungsoo with wide eyes, back against the cold metal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” When Jongin says nothing, eyes big and mouth parted, Kyungsoo continues, “can we talk?”
Jongin should say no, point blank, put the rest of his clothes on and leave.
He doesn’t. “Not here.” He steps around Kyungsoo and walks back to the empty showers, pulling open a curtain in the farthest corner and waiting for Kyungsoo to step and shut it behind him. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, Kyungsoo sunbae.” He stares at a tile beside Kyungsoo’s shoulders.
“You’re the one who moved us this far out of the way,” Kyungsoo points out. “Jongin, was it—“ He hesitates. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—my intent doesn’t matter, how you feel about it matters, I’m sorry that I was pushy.”
Jongin bites his bottom lip. “You weren’t.”
“I wasn’t what? I am sorry, I’m not lying about that,” Kyungsoo says. He sounds hurt? How can he sound hurt, does it not freak him out, what they did?
“You weren’t pushy, sunbae,” Jongin corrects. “You were clear and checked if I was okay with things several times.”
“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, “so what’s…”
“Does it not freak you out?” Jongin blurts out, chancing a glance to Kyungsoo’s face. “You say you’re straight, and I know, I know I am, but it’s like I’m the only one dealing with this. How can you act so normal?”
Kyungsoo steps closer. Jongin wills himself not to step back. He’s not a coward. “Admittedly, I was a little tipsy. Not impaired, but that’s why I was bolder than usual. I know what I wanted.”
“Well, I don’t get what you wanted,” Jongin says, frustrated.
Kyungsoo steps even closer. He extends his hand out to brush, so light, over Jongin’s side, where Chanyeol kicked earlier. “I meant what I said that night.”
You’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect. Can’t stop thinking about eating you out, want it so badly. Jongin swallows. “You said a lot.”
“And I meant all of it. Did you like it?”
“I—“ he blushes. “I came, I guess. There was a lot of stimulation.”
“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, “did you like it?”
Jongin shifts weight. “It’s weird!” He closes his eyes, reconsiders his words, opens them. “I sound like a homophobic prick. It’s not weird en masse, just for me, in that moment.”
“Did you like it?” Kyungsoo repeats. He extends his hand again, tilts Jongin’s chin until Jongin looks him in the eyes. Jongin’s breath hitches.
“Yes,” he whispers.
Kyungsoo curves his hand on Jongin’s jaw, stepping in close enough that their bodies all but collide, touching in a few awkward places. Jongin’s body sings. He remembers, now, that he is in nothing but briefs. “Is it bad to feel good? Must we label and dissect that?”
“I’m an arts student, I dissect everything,” says Jongin. His real reply is the slight angle to his jaw, how he curves into Kyungsoo’s touch. “I don’t know what I feel.”
“Well, how do you feel about me texting you again tonight?” Kyungsoo asks. “Telling you more about what I wanna do to you. Okay or not? It is okay with me if not.”
Jongin will die. Still. He nods.
Kyungsoo steps away, points of contact lost. “Tonight, then,” and leaves.
Jongin is on edge all day. He zones in and out of his classes, stares at his phone on the walk home, curls up on his bed to stare at it. He has an essay to write, but all he can think about is Kyungsoo saying tonight, then like some given promise. God, Jongin is so turned on just from those two words that he jerks off in the wait, biting his bottom lip and reading back the old messages with Kyungsoo, the dirty video, the, the, fuck, picture of Kyungsoo, that hard just from a picture from Jongin.
When the message comes, Jongin is lax, less tense than he was all day. Hi, Jongin. How was your day?
*sunbae, sorry. it was fine how was urs
Great since I got to start it w you in those tights, Kyungsoo answers. Jongin wears gym leggings, yes, because they’re comfortable and work with any exercise. He tucks, of course, so it’s not like his dick is ever out and lewd. He never considered what it might still reveal.
they’re just leggings
They’re what you wore in that first pic and you saw how I reacted then
You on the treadmill made my week
what abt it
Your ass, baby. The way it moved… couldn’t get anything done
Just wanted to grab it, see if it feels as good as it looks
Jongin squirms. why didn’t u
You’d like that?
If all I did was grope and squeezeyour ass, maybe slap it a little to see it bounce?
Jongin bites his bottom lip. please
Hm, well, you weren’t very nice today. Should you make demands after being that bad?
all i could hitnk about was u
What were you thinking about
the video you sent
Yeah? what’d you like about it?
How can he phrase this? God, what is he even doing, how can he ever look Kyungsoo in the eyes again?
how lloose it got
What’s it, Jongin
sunbae i cant say it
If you can’t say it, you can’t get it
Jongin takes a deep breath. how loose his hole got
Good. Jongin relents and grabs his cock, rubs the wet fabric over his slit.
I loved that too but i liked the noises he made most
bet you get loud huh
not rly, Jongin doesn’t think. Someone in high school told him girls don’t like that, and he internalized it like an idiot.
Oh, I’ll make you loud
You ever play with your ass?
just rubbed over it before to see how it feels
How’s it feel
Bc of how much it turned you on?
Has Jongin ever been this honest about sex in his life? What is it about Kyungsoo that enables him like this?
it was rly sensitive more than i exoectrd
I bet it’s so easy to get you off just from playing with your hole
I fomt...dont know
Should we try?
Take your pants and boxers off, if that’s ok
Do you have lube?
Jongin shimmies his boxers off and leans over to grab his bottle of lube from underneath his bed. Is he really going to do this? He doesn’t know what these questions lead to, he doesn’t want to think so much about this. After, he will deal with regret and whatever shame there might be. Right now, Kyungsoo texts him filth and turns him on so much he can’t imagine doing anything other than this.
ok sunbae ready
Can I call you? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with that, no pressure
Jongin twists his mouth to the side and back. He’s hard. Kyungsoo does have a nice voice. And he’s hard.
iprob won’t talk much
That’s ok with me if it’s ok with you, Kyungsoo replies. Jongin texts ok.
Kyungsoo calls less than a minute later, end Jongin answers from the first ring, then curses himself internally at how needy he must look. “Hi, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says.
“Kyungsoo sunbae,” Jongin breathes. God, his voice is too high. He clears his throat and hopes Kyungsoo didn’t notice. “Hello. What are you up to?”
Kyungsoo sounds amused when he answers, “did you ask that because you already know the answer?”
“No, really, I don’t know,” Jongin protests, “I’m really asking!”
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, that same amusement coloring his deep voice, “I haven’t been able to keep my hands off my dick since last Saturday.”
“Last Saturday?” Jongin asks, but—“oh.”
“So that’s what I’m up to,” Kyungsoo says. “I love the grainy picture you sent most, I get hard whenever I even think about it.” He pauses. “And I think about it a lot.”
“That’s,” Jongin starts, “that’s gotta be uncomfortable.”
“There are a few hardships I’d bear for someone as pretty as you.”
Jongin rubs his palm over his stomach, follows it down to his waist, right next to his dick. He shaves down there, his crotch and butt, just because he prefers the feeling, but all he’s thought about the past few days, try as hard as he may, is what that looks like to someone else, to Kyungsoo. Would that be pretty? “That’s the second or third time you’ve said pretty.”
“You are. You’re the prettiest person I know.”
“Boys aren’t usually pretty,” Jongin says, just to have something to say. He doesn’t think he buys that.
Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh. “Do you believe that?”
“No,” Jongin admits. “Just… never thought of myself this way. I get, like, sexy more.”
“You are sexy,” Kyungsoo says immediately, “and pretty, too. And beautiful and handsome—“
“Sunbae,” Jongin laughs, mouth curling into a big smile, all the way up to his cheekbones.
“You have a great laugh,” Kyungsoo says, voice so soft.
When Jongin’s laugh dies down, the silence feels so heavy. Jongin exhales. Getting all these compliments is overwhelming. “You have a great voice.”
“Thank you, Jongin.” How can anyone sound so sincere and then add, “can I make you come with it?” Suddenly, Jongin’s mind flashes to an image he never needed, Kyungsoo stretched out above him, holding one knee up, his, fuck, fingers rubbing over Jongin’s hole, pressing inside—
“It?” Jongin asks, still caught in that terrible image.
“My voice.” He hears shifting on the other line, like the rustle of cotton sheets. “What did you think I mean? What else might I make you come with?” Jongin can’t breathe. “My fingers?” Kyungsoo’s voice lowers. “My cock?”
“I,” Jongin starts. “Nothing, I just got distracted.”
“Which was it?” The demand in his voice makes Jongin’s dick throb, makes him want to answer any and all questions Kyungsoo gives.
He clears his throat again. “Fingers.”
Kyungsoo exhales. “Jongin, I want that so much. Will you touch your hole for me?”
“My hole?” he repeats. Saying it feels dirty. He cups his cock and bites his lips too hard.
“Yeah, baby. Do you have your lube out?” Jongin does, and confirms. “Good, let’s get some on your fingers. You know I’ll make sure you’re more than wet enough.”
Jongin puts the phone on low speaker right next to his ear and does as Kyungsoo says, gets too much lube on his fingers and waits for instruction.
“Get it on the skin right below your balls, and then your hole,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is so muted, so sure of obedience. Jongin listens, trails his lubed hand down with bated breath, and—
“Ah,” he gasps, jolting in surprise. He rubs his index and ring finger in a line over his hole, the slide so easy with this much slick, and can’t, has it, has it always been… was it always this sensitive, this hot and wanting? “Ah, oh, sun—sunbae,” he says, turning his face into the pillow. His ear lands above his cellphone, and Kyungsoo seems closer like this, Jongin makes out a low slick sound, like Kyungsoo is jerking off, the heavy sound of his breaths.
His voice is gruff when he says, “rub it in circles.”
Jongin listens. How can, fuck, how can anything feel this good, why did he never pay more attention to that. “Oh,” he moans, “oh, sunbae, it feels so good, please,” it’s almost too much. He’s so sensitive here that just the pleasure has stars bursting across his skin, like he’ll lose his mind if he does and doesn’t stop.
“Let me see,” Kyungsoo demands, or maybe Jongin hears it as a demand, wants to, “send a picture for sunbae to see how good your little hole looks being played with.”
Jongin never considers not listening. “Okay,” he agrees easily, and tries to slow down the motions so he can use his free hand to grab his phone and open it up to the camera. He angles his hand down, biting his lip as he snaps the picture of his hole, how wet it’s getting from his fingers. He barely looks at it before texting it to Kyungsoo. “Sent it, sunbae.”
Hearing Kyungsoo is ten times better than any text message could be. “Oh my fucking God,” he curses into the phone, “oh my God, Jongin,” and Jongin’s entire body feels hot.
“Is that good?” Jongi asks, the phone back on the pillow under his ear, and he uses his free hand to palm at his cock, hopelessly turned on by the groan Kyungsoo lets out, the wet sound of Kyungsoo’s hand on his dick, the knowledge that somewhere, right now, Kyungsoo is staring at that picture and getting off.
“Is it good?” Kyungsoo repeats with disbelief. “Jongin, this is—this is perfect, you’re so hot, God, I can’t believe… God, I wish I could—” he cuts himself off. No, finish it, Jongin wants to say, what do you wish you could do, but then Kyungsoo asks him, “baby, how do you feel?”
Jongin lets go of his dick to grip his thigh, holds it a little further apart so he can stroke himself again down there, still shocked at the sensation, the way the tight pucker of skin clenches and tries to suck his finger in. “Great,” Jongin tells him. “Incredible.”
“How do you feel about putting a finger, uh, inside?” Jongin stops breathing. “Tell me no if it’s no or if you’re unsure, we can just stay with this or stop if I’ve made you un—”
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin interrupts. He clears his throat. “No, that’s… I can… try? That? If you want?”
“It’s what you want,” Kyungsoo insists.
“I need,” Jongin starts. His voice is unsteady. “I need you to say that’s what you want.”
“I do want it,” Kyungsoo says, voice so patient and soft.
“Okay. Okay, I just… more lube, I need more lube,” he mumbles, reaching behind himself to grab it, putting more on his fingers. His heart is beating so loud in his chest he wonders, delirious, if it might fly out away from him. “Okay, I’m gonna, gonna,” doesn’t bother to finish his sentence as he presses his middle finger on himself, down until the tip presses in. Oh, that’s weird.
“How does it feel?” asks Kyungsoo.
“Uh,” Jongin presses more in, keeps going until his finger is down to the knuckle and the pad of it rubs inside him. He never thought he would be this grateful that he keeps his nails cut short. “I don’t know?” He doesn’t, caught between the base touch down there, how sensitive he is, and the weird intrusion.
“Are you doing it how I would?” Okay, so there’s feeling.
“How would you?”
“Did you add enough lube? I want to make sure you’re wet for me.” Jongin is really wet, he always uses too much lube, even when he’s just masturbating, and it’s nice that Kyungsoo is the same. He hums a confirmation. “You’re not just leaving it there, are you? Move your finger, just in and out, slowly. The same way you’d finger someone else, how I’ll start out with you.”
Jongin does as Kyungsoo says, testing out the slow give of his own body like he knows what to do, like this is any other situation. It’s not bad.
“Can I touch myself?” Jongin asks, then flushes bright when he realizes what he said.
“God,” Kyungsoo says, some kind of wondrous tone to his voice, “of course you can, Jongin. Maybe move your finger faster, too, yeah?”
Jongin takes his dick in hand, stroking around the tip a few times, moves his finger a little faster. He almost doesn’t expect it when he moans, startled a little. Not much friction, with this much lubricant, but something about the pace, something about imagining this is Kyungsoo fingering him. “It’s good, Kyungsoo sunbae.” He thinks… “Might add another,” a brief hesitation, “would you add it this soon?”
“Of course, baby.” Kyungsoo groans, that same wet sound as he fucks his hand. “Gotta open you up, get you ready.”
Jongin can barely breathe as he enters himself with two fingers this time, so conscious of his body, of the hushed breathing across the line. “Oh, this is,” his breath hitches. This is much better. “‘M full,” he moans, “God, this is so,” maybe it’s the hand on his cock, too, but the stretch, the pull when he tries curling his fingers and pulls at his rim. He whimpers, loud, wanton. “Get me ready for, for what?”
“Fuck,” Kyungsoo sighs. “Don’t—don’t wanna freak you out, I don’t think we’re there yet, sweetheart.” Jongin thinks he knows what Kyungsoo means, but maybe Kyungsoo is right, maybe he’s not ready yet, because he drops it, focuses on the warmth and arousal in Kyungsoo’s voice when he says sweetheart. Not as bone-deep pleasing as baby, but still so nice.
“Like when you call me nice names,” Jongin murmurs, his toes curling. He moves his fingers faster in himself, rotating more onto his stomach so he can find a better angle. “Su—” He gasps loudly when he curls his fingers some random way and hits a nerve of pleasure so tight and high he sobs around it when he presses in, fucks his fingers sloppily into that same spot. He is out of body, riding back on the feeling, whining noises in the back of his throat, mindless with want when he thinks about Kyungsoo doing this to him.
“Fuck.” Kyungsoo grunts, a low, needy thing. “Knew you’d find it, you have such long fingers. Press it tight, Jonginnie, make yourself come, you deserve it.”
Jongin knows what will make him come. He pulls the pads of his fingers off whatever nerve that is, catches his breath with a sob. His face is already red-hot and his cock leaks precome when he angles his ass up, just a little, and sends a picture to Kyungsoo of his fingers, knuckle deep and so wet.
“God fucking dammit,” Kyungsoo swears, octaves lower than his normal tone, “shit, Jongin, what the fuck.” He can’t handle knowing that Kyungsoo sees him like this, the hot clutch of his hole around his fingers, how Jongin spreads himself apart for him, just because he asked, because he wanted it. “I’m so close, Jongin, you make me so, God, so hard,” he moans.
“Show me,” Jongin muffles into the pillow, fucking himself on his fingers. “Show me how hard.”
Kyungsoo sounds far for a moment, then he grunts check and Jongin all but fumbles over himself getting the screen to his face and back on their text thread. He flushes at the picture of his fingers in him, then a deeper burn down his body at the sight of Kyungsoo’s cock, pulled out from Kyungsoo’s black sweats, a hand wrapped around the girth, still taken by the size.
“Hnn,” Jongin keens, pushing back on his fingers and rutting into the bed, caught between twin pleasure, “hyung, gotta, gotta get me ready,” he murmurs nonsensically, then his mind, his stupid traitor mind, connects it, gets what Kyungsoo means, his mouth waters with the thought, the idea that kyungsoo wants to be—that he thinks about—
“Wanna tongue your hole open then come on it,” Kyungsoo says, grunts, and Jongin damn near sobs, biting his pillow and coming, coming, tight around his fingers. He shakes through aftershocks while Kyungsoo moans into his ear, bitten swears when he comes on the other end of the line.
For some time, they breathe.
Jongin whimpers when he removes his fingers from his bum, still open and wet and clenching around nothing and everything. Kyungsoo’s no longer panting, his breathing even and calm. Jongin’s heart measures pace with every inhale, out.
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo starts. Hesitant. “How do you feel?”
Jongin stretches, yawning. He holds his cellphone to his ear and listens to Kyungsoo’s instinctual yawn. He turns onto his side and pulls his comforter up over his body. “Sticky. Sleepy.”
“You still good about it?”
“Sleepy,” Jongin mutters, a statement and answer.
“Okay,” Kyungsoo says softly, “sleep, sweetheart.”