the first time they fuck, jeno comes really fast. it’s quick and dirty, literally, because they’re both drunk out of their minds and that’s the only reason jeno is in jaemin’s bed, tearing off each other’s clothes clumsily and fumbling to get their underwear off so jeno can hitch jaemin’s legs over his shoulders and sink into him in one swift thrust, the lube they spilled all over the sheets while liberally squeezing it out making filthy squelching sounds.
jaemin doesn’t last long either, which surprises him, dimly in the back of his alcohol-addled mind. it’s his first time with a guy and, he assumes, jeno’s first time too, so he didn’t expect to be able to get off without an issue, almost easily even.
in the dark, jaemin registers with vague wonder how it turns out there’s less difference than he expected between male and female, when it comes to a warm body in the pitch black night. jeno’s breathing is evening out beside him — or more like on top of him, since his heavy body is half-draped over jaemin, making it nearly impossible for jaemin to move. it’s a comfortable kind of weight, though, not stifling, his friend’s familiar scent kind of almost pleasant to whiff in as they drift off into sleep together, too tired to even wipe off the come drying on their chests and stomachs.
when he wakes up in the morning his heart lurches so violently in his chest, it’s a wonder it doesn’t wake jeno up. the other boy is still in almost the same position, latched possessively to jaemin’s frame, his breath warm and steady on jaemin’s collarbone. in the morning light jaemin unconsciously pauses at the length and darkness of jeno’s eyelashes splayed across his cheekbones, his washboard abs and broad athlete’s shoulders. he’s, without a doubt, the most masculine of jaemin’s friends, so it’d be an understatement to say it was a surprise to find out that jeno is into guys — or at least, bisexual.
jeno shifts in his sleep, and jaemin’s breath hitches in his throat, the sensation as if his world has frozen on its axis for a heartbeat. he doesn’t dare to move a muscle, suddenly terrified — of what, he isn’t sure. that he’ll see unmistakable regret and shock in jeno’s transparent eyes when he remembers what happened last night? that this will be the fuck-up that ends their years-long friendship?
he doesn’t know what he’s bracing himself for, but when jeno’s eyes flutter open, the softness in them catches jaemin completely off guard. jeno has always gazed at him in this way, indulgently, with affection and amusement and warmth; but this is something different altogether — an exposed kind of tenderness that makes jaemin tear his eyes away, unable to maintain eye contact further.
he suddenly feels his physical body acutely — the mess of their come on his torso, shameful and sordid, his ass which is aching in an ineffable way; which is ridiculous because jeno can’t possibly know that.
but jeno just smiles, eyes hazy, the only sign of discomfort the colour dusting his chiseled cheekbones and the flutter in his heartbeat jaemin feels against his back as jeno winds a coy arm around his chest, backhugging him as if he’s too shy to face jaemin directly too.
they just stay like that for a while, awkward but too exhausted to move, bodies pleasantly burning in every muscle.
spooning — jaemin’s never been the little spoon before, but it’s a different kind of nice, jeno’s chin hitched over his shoulder and his teeth playfully catching jaemin’s earlobe before letting go.
they’ve been living in the same fraternity house for more than a year now, and been friends for longer, but it’s a brand new revelation to jaemin that crossing the line from platonic friends into one night stand territory is frighteningly easy; that sleeping with jeno feels almost like just an extension of friendship, a natural progression.
jaemin’s door is locked, and for hours after that, they ignore any knocks they hear, tucked away within the four quiet walls listening to each other’s heartbeat. jeno occasionally caresses jaemin’s cheek or cards his fingers through his hair absently to show he isn’t asleep; but when he tries to shift his weight off jaemin, concerned he’s cutting off circulation, jaemin tangles their knees together and clings on to jeno’s arms around his chest.
jeno breathes a laugh by his ear, and finally relaxes; and jaemin feels more warmth than he’s felt in years swell in his chest, taking him by surprise. they’ve slept together in either of their beds any number of times, but this is a world removed — so intimate it feels impossible for two people to get any closer.
it should feel desperately uncomfortable, but it doesn’t.
they stay entwined, cuddling for another thirty minutes, jeno’s sheer bulk against jaemin feeling like he’s in chenle’s bed hugging the giant life-sized teddy bear in his room to sleep; or the all-encompassing weight of a siberian husky curled up on top of his body.
the next time they fuck — jaemin hadn’t been even expecting a second — jeno looks him dead in the eye and murmurs, “are you drunk again?"
it takes jaemin a full second to comprehend what he’s asking.
and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s nodding yes, yes he’s crazy drunk, and jeno is sloppily grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him forward to crash into his own lips.
the way his friend’s tongue thrusts into his mouth is bold and slightly tentative at the same time, as if he’s scared but trying to fake bravado. jaemin lets jeno move his tongue around clumsily for a few seconds, his fingers tightening in jaemin’s shirt; then takes over, tangling his hands in jeno’s hair and tilting his head so jaemin can come up for air before licking back into jeno’s mouth, making the other boy falter at his aggressiveness.
jaemin grins into the kiss and slides his hands further down, mapping jeno’s toned back through his thin tee, then grabbing his ass and rolling his own hips deliberately against the other boy’s groin at the same time.
jeno’s response is even better than he hoped, a sharp intake of breath before he tackles jaemin forward, aiming for the bed but failing and landing on the floor.
"ow,” jaemin is laughing, his breath stuttering from sheer erotic excitement, and jeno looks so worshipful and debauched at the same time braced over him, eyes gleaming from behind hopelessly mussed bangs jaemin’s heart stops for a moment — almost as if jeno is a girl he likes.
it kick-starts again as jeno grins rakishly, running a hand through his hair, and whispers, “i have condoms this time.” the words seem to make him blush.
of course — jeno is probably fucking other people, too. he can’t have stayed celibate this whole time between the last time they messily screwed, and now.
jaemin smiles back, awkwardly, clearing his throat. “great."
"i mean… we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” jeno frowns, looking embarrassed now, and jaemin hesitates before running a hand down from jeno’s chest to his jeans button, then lifting his own shirt to flash a broad sliver of skin.
"hell, yeah i want to.” he winks smarmily, barely done before jeno has sunk to his knees and is rummaging through his bedside drawer.
jaemin looks away as jeno straightens triumphantly with the condom packet and tube of lube they used last time, not wanting to see a half-open or even nearly finishing box of condoms and having the awkward thought in mind of who jeno has been going through them with. at least they’re using protection this time, he thinks, on the bright side. he’d worried for a while after the first hasty, impulsive shack — not that he thinks it’s possible jeno has anything transmittable, but it was his first time after all, and it’d probably be better to play it safe.
jeno rips open the packet with his teeth and fumbles a little, making jaemin smile against his will, melting.
"don’t put everything in your mouth,” he nags, a familiar refrain; and, “let me help you put it on."
the other boy seems surprised at his words, pleasantly so. since that first night, jeno has been his usual clingy, inseparable self towards jaemin, maybe even more so. he didn’t say or show anything to allude to what they’d done, so jaemin didn’t either.
now, jeno unconsciously touches his parted lips as he looks down at jaemin bending to eye level with his jeans, eyes dark and eager. he drags a finger over his plush mouth, watching jaemin hungrily. this gives jaemin an idea.
"what are you doing?” the other boy murmurs as he deftly unbuttons jeno’s jeans button, then less adroitly tugs the zipper down with his teeth.
"shh,” jaemin mouths against his clothed cock, which jumps. jaemin slides his fingers over jeno’s hipbones, caressing them and pushing the denim down, and jeno grabs on to the back of his head, his hips bucking forward a little.
they end up not using the condom, jeno coming hard and fast again after jaemin swirls his tongue without skill a few times over his cock, teasing it over the head and nearly choking on the unexpected gush of hot fluid as jeno thrusts into the back of his throat without warning.
"oh, god.” above him, his friend’s voice is hoarse. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to — are you okay?"
jaemin coughs and smiles up, eyes watering, discreetly swallowing. jeno watches his throat move, and his attempt not to make a face after, and unexpectedly hunkers down in front of him after fastening his pants, drawing jaemin into a sudden hug.
engulfed by jeno’s entire frame, jaemin takes a deep breath of his unmistakable scent, the heat emanating from his body, the slight musk of fading arousal. there’s that unbearable intimacy again, making him feel alive in every nerve of his body.
he nuzzles into jeno’s flannel shirt, and the other boy’s breath is hot on his ear.
"what about you?” before jaemin can react, jeno has slid one hand smoothly to cover his crotch, squeezing deliberately on the palpable tent in jaemin’s pants.
jaemin makes a choked sound, nearly coming there and then. it feels shameful, like he’s admitting to something taboo, being turned on to this extent just by giving a blowjob. to another guy.
he clears his throat, detaching himself from jeno’s strong, reluctant arms. the other boy is looking at him with that dazed, worshipful look again, even as his eyes glitter with teasing amusement, as if jaemin is something — someone sacred. the only sign of embarrassment he’s showing at what they just did is pink-tipped ears.
"i’ll take care of it myself.” jaemin gets to his feet shakily, wiping his mouth and avoiding eye contact again.
jeno catches his elbow before he can move to the bathroom, his fingers gentle but unrelenting.
"i want to help you.” there’s a slight pout in his voice. “can i? or… you can’t come — for me?” he asks with difficulty, suddenly looking stricken.
"no, that’s not it,” jaemin quickly says, wounded by the hurt in jeno’s fawnlike eyes. “okay, fine, you take care of me, then."
like a magic spell, his words make the other boy’s entire face light up. entranced, jaemin allows himself to be led to jeno’s bed, where jeno gently pushes him backwards, then climbs over his knees, straddling his thighs.
jaemin sucks in a breath, preparing for the soreness that took days to abate the first time again — that delicious, addictive mix of pain and pleasure. but jeno pulls the whole floor from under his feet by taking the time to clumsily unzip jaemin, freeing his long-suffering cock, then raising his eyes to meet jaemin’s own almost with carnal intent.
in shock, jaemin lifts his fist to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to stifle the moan building up in his throat as jeno wraps his whole hand around jaemin’s cock and tugs him in sloppy but careful strokes to completion.
jeno’s hand is callused — jaemin knows, but he’s never felt its texture in this way, on the million nerve endings in his sensitive cock, all the blood in his body rushing south. he almost sobs, thighs clenching up under jeno as his orgasm builds.
"i’m close —“ he barely manages to warn, before jeno runs a thumb over the throbbing head of his cock, right over the slit, and he’s bucking up, thrusting into thin air. jeno doesn’t let go of his cock until the last spurts of come drain him. both their clothes are ruined again by now, and jaemin hates — can’t believe the fact that jeno was watching him lose every shred of his control, come apart under him, this whole time.
"shit,” jaemin rasps, sitting up, definitely not meeting jeno’s intense, lusty gaze that’s trying to pin him. “i made a mess,” he groans.
"it’s okay.” there’s a chuckle in jeno’s voice, and jaemin feels silly, foolish, unsure if the other is laughing at him. but jeno backs off, shifts his comfortable, grounding weight off jaemin’s body, and ever so gently pushes jaemin back into a lying position.
"wait here. i’ll get towels to clean up.” jaemin isn’t sure if he’s hearing things or there’s a smug edge to jeno’s voice, like he can’t hide his triumph that he could undo jaemin like that, literally single-handedly.
jaemin curls into a fetal position in jeno’s bed while waiting, having an internal meltdown. his knuckles have raw bite marks on them, and his heart is spinning like a fucking hurricane.
later, after jeno has wiped him off with such care jaemin’s heart nearly stops beating for a moment, he snuggles up behind jaemin’s back and drapes an arm over him again. jaemin is wearing one of jeno’s oversized sweaters he brought him, and one of his boxers. jeno stared at the way jaemin was swimming in his clothes a few moments too long, before jaemin cleared his throat and curled up with his back towards jeno under the covers. he felt the bed dip with the other boy’s weight as he climbed in behind and slung a heavy arm over him, his bolster abandoned for a human one.
again, jeno falls asleep first. jaemin hears his breaths slowing, his hand still tightly curled on jaemin’s chest, against his heartbeat. unable to control himself, he wiggles to turn around in the tight space, now free to stare to his heart’s content at jeno, deeply in slumber.
his friend’s lips are slightly parted, and jaemin wants to kiss the tempting cupid’s bow, but he resists and settles for pecking the mole under jeno’s eye. he gasps when the other boy’s eyes flutter open abruptly.
"you were pretending to sleep?” he hisses, affronted, and giggles bubble up in jeno’s throat. he bites his lips to repress the smile tugging at them, his eyes filled with adoration and wonder. jaemin is blushing into oblivion.
"i hate you.” jaemin hits his shoulder, and tries to get up. “going back to my own room to sleep."
but effortlessly, swiftly, jeno catches him around the waist and pulls him back under the covers, his biceps flexing around jaemin’s shoulders in a lockhold. he slips one leg between jaemin’s thighs, a gesture that’s too teasing to be innocent.
"not letting you,” jeno murmurs in his ear, his voice so deep jaemin feels like he’s falling.
he struggles a bit more, for show mostly. grumbling incessantly, he finally settles back into jeno’s embrace, giving up.
"you’re such a dork,” he snaps, with zero bite, and jeno breathes another mischievous laugh, unrepentantly.
"stupid dork,” jaemin says again, this time more to himself — reminding himself that jeno’s literally the most embarrassing, awkward dork among their group of friends, not some dreamboat with roguish charm sweeping people off their feet.
and jaemin doesn’t feel swept off his feet. at all.
"you love me anyways,” jeno reminds him, though, and jaemin swallows hard.
yes, jeno’s his best friend because jaemin loves that dorkiness, is endeared by it — but in a platonic way.
it’s one of the rare occasions all the members of the fraternity are free at the same time, and so renjun suggested a group outing to the pc bang and dinner. chenle promptly offered to pay for everything, which meant everybody’s agreement was secured. jeno’s dressed up for their friends, a little more than usual. jaemin’s not used to seeing him outside of his baggy sweatshirts and baseball shorts, and he stares a little longer than usual. jeno catches him in the act.
"what are you looking at?” he bumps jaemin’s shoulder with his own, bro-like, smiling like butter couldn’t melt in his mouth. beside them, renjun and haechan don’t stop chatting, not seeming to find anything amiss about their interactions.
"nothing,” jaemin retorts, good-naturedly, but continues shamelessly staring throughout the entire meal. they’re sitting opposite each other in the restaurant and jaemin can tell he’s being super obvious from the way jeno almost chokes on his water a few times when he looks up to see jaemin’s eyes still beady on him.
"hyung, does jeno hyung owe you money or something? you’ve been glaring at him like, all day,” jisung jokes on their walk back to the frat house, and adds that chenle will help pay any debts. chenle denies this and claims that he only pays jisung’s.
"there’s no debt.” jeno looks fondly exasperated by their antics, loosening the top button of his black long-sleeved silk shirt and tugging at his collar. jaemin swallows, tearing his eyes away from jeno’s forearms rippling under the rolled-up sleeves.
"or is there?” he nearly trips over air when the other boy continues, his eyes already on jaemin when jaemin peeks up at him. jeno smiles right at him, from ear to ear, a cheshire-like smile that can only be described as devilish.
"what is it? did i do something wrong?” he whispers later, after sneaking into jaemin’s room and under his covers. jeno takes up almost the whole of jaemin’s bed — not just the bulk of his body, but the way he throws himself out, spread-eagled and proprietary. jaemin shivers, in trepidation.
"nothing, i just — you changed your clothes.” jaemin can’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
"yeah,” jeno laughs, muffled by his face buried in jaemin’s pillow. “i showered, dummy. didn’t you?"
jeno’s now in his pajamas, still looking like a million bucks, in that way that’s so unfair. unlike jaemin, jeno hardly pays attention to his looks, and only has a cursory grooming routine — but he’s so gorgeous jaemin has lost count of the number of girls who have approached him to ask for his best friend’s number.
jeno never allowed him to give it out to a single one of them; and he’d been happy to oblige.
now, he’s gazing up at jaemin, brows creased slightly with concern at his odd behaviour; but also something knowing creeping into the sparkle of his eye.
"you like what you saw, jaemin-ah?"
jaemin nearly flips out. is it so obvious he’d found jeno’s midnight silk shirt over skinny jeans so attractive? with that blond hair falling into inscrutable eyes, the way he’s studying jaemin right now too — it’d been hard to breathe. he felt like he’d been in the presence of a god, a deity.
"you looked good.” jaemin’s throat is dry when he finally voices aloud what’s been on his mind all night. his honesty makes jeno’s expression freeze almost comically, and jaemin feels smugness overwhelm him that he’s managed to disarm the older boy.
"you looked really hot,” he adds, emboldened now, making jeno flush so furiously it’s visible in the moonlight falling through the window. “i want you to fuck me again,” he finishes, without a single remaining filter.
he glances up through his lashes coquettishly, at jeno whose mouth is now hanging open at how much he’s taking the initiative, and jaemin glows. rashly, he starts lifting his sleep shirt over his head, watching the other’s reaction as he strips.
"hang on.” jeno suddenly forces his eyes off jaemin’s torso, up to his face. he looks confused, adorably so, and vulnerable.
"but you’re not drunk today…?"
jaemin stops cold, his thumbs hooked into his shorts. jeno’s eyes give nothing away, but seem to be searching his own deeply for something.
"do we have to be?” is what jaemin ends up saying, lamely. “i mean, we’re fuck buddies now, right? we can fuck anytime we like."
"ah,” jeno replies delicately after a moment, blinking; and jaemin cringes at his crude language.
he’s about to backtrack, apologise and tell his friend to go back to his bed, when jeno speaks up first.
"yeah… i guess you’re right. that’s what we are, isn’t it?"
he grins, the innocence of it at odds with what he’s saying. jeno places a hand on the hem of jaemin’s shorts, and fiddles with it a little, thoughtfully.
"but… i don’t want to hurt you."
jaemin replies so quickly, jeno’s eyes widen. “it didn’t hurt at all the last time! really,” he swears stoutly, and jeno bites back a smile, like he’s adorable.
"i don’t believe you.” he glides his finger around the hem of jaemin’s pants, towards the centre of his pelvis, and jaemin whimpers needily. “i was too rough,” jeno whispers, meeting his eyes as he slips a hand into jaemin’s pants to fondle his hardening dick. “i’m sorry."
"don't be, it was good,” jaemin can barely grit out, snapping his hips forward involuntarily, against jeno’s hand. memories of the amazing hand job he’d received the last time make his cock throb eagerly. jeno reaches down and encircles his length, swiping his finger over the tip where precome is pearling, and jaemin gasps, “ah!"
"are you sure?” jeno presses again, gently, though his pupils are quickly dilating. jaemin sees his hand reach down from the corner of his vision to rub his own crotch, and he shakes a little with sheer desire.
"i can just get you off again,” jeno adds, keeping his voice level with an effort.
"no,” jaemin decides, making a hushed exhale slip from the other boy’s lips. “can i try riding you, though?"
jeno frowns at his lingo, apparently not having ventured into watching gay on top of straight porn now as jaemin has.
"you want to be on top?” he guesses, and jaemin nods, eyes supplicating.
"please, hyung,” he whines, and that does it — jeno is pliantly lying back flat on jaemin’s bed, and easing jaemin on top of him. he doesn’t even seem to find it heavy when jaemin grinds his entire weight down on his lap, just gasps softly with arousal.
"you look so pretty from down here,” jeno compliments him, slyly, and this time jaemin gasps. jeno’s reaching for his hips, but just to feel like he’s back in control, jaemin smacks his hands away teasingly.
"no touching.” he takes one hand and kisses the knuckles carelessly, making the other boy groan. “i’ll do all the work. you just lie there and relax."
"oh?” jeno raises an eyebrow, appearing intrigued, and also trying not to laugh at jaemin’s weak seduction tactics. jaemin quickly silences him by bearing down on the tented front of his pants poking rigidly into his ass.
by the time jaemin is done rolling on the condom, in abject embarrassment, jeno is so hard it hurts, dick engorged, a vein throbbing on his shaft. he seems to feel equally humiliated, hands covering his face since jaemin has forbidden him to touch. his thighs tremble between jaemin’s, flexing with the need to move.
"baby, please.” his voice is wrecked as jaemin takes hold of his cock and starts pushing himself down on it. “can i touch — now?"
jeno’s so sweet, asking permission, even now. jaemin can’t help it — he replies yes, and in an instant jeno’s hands are pressing almost bruises into his hipbones and he’s sinking all the way into jaemin, though more controlled than last time. jaemin gasps for breath, bracing his hands on jeno’s chest and shifting a little. the bundle of nerve endings the head of jeno’s cock rubs against, deep inside him, makes jaemin see sparks.
he’s glad he’s not drunk — it feels even better this way.
even from below, his best friend fucks the way he lives — giving all of himself into it, brusqueness tempered with surprising tenderness, so earnestly. jaemin never thought he could feel more for jeno than the secondhand embarrassment he constantly goes through on his behalf, as his friend; but this intimacy is impossibly, even deeper, as if he’s seeing the deepest, most secret parts of the other boy, exposed.
he can’t tell whether the pleasure or the awkwardness is more intense.
when they’re both spent, completely wrung out, jeno rolls over jaemin in one smooth move, as if he’s been waiting impatiently just to get jaemin flattened under him again.
he’s teasing his tongue over jaemin’s clavicles, which should feel gross, like a dog slobbering over one, but doesn’t. jaemin whines again, offended and breathless.
"what?” jeno props himself up a little over him, his tongue leaving jaemin’s skin with a lewd sound. “i can’t leave a mark, can i?"
his eyes are so dark, jaemin could lose himself in them.
"you can do whatever you want,” he moans out brokenly, careful to keep his voice low though the door is locked. he’s barely finished the sentence when jeno has dipped his head down again, hair tickling jaemin’s chin, and latched his lips onto the knob of jaemin’s shoulder.
jeno sucks for what seems like forever, and when he lets go jaemin awkwardly shifts his legs and lets his breath hiss out through his teeth, hoping it’s not obvious he’s half-hard again. there’s another dirty popping sound as his friend detaches his mouth from jaemin’s skin, and jaemin doesn’t even have to see the mark he’s left to feel undeniably branded.