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Jinyoung lingers as the rest of the class shuffles out of the classroom. He usually doesn’t care for having an hour between one class and the next—he’d rather get them all out of the way or have a few hours to properly study—but the hour gap after his discussion on Asian-American literature is one of his favorite parts of the week.
Jaebeom is still erasing the chalk scrawled across the blackboard. It’s better than his scribbled feedback on their papers, but sometimes Jinyoung still takes a moment to piece the letters together.
All of his belongings are packed, but Jinyoung leaves his bag by his desk as he walks up behind Jaebeom.
The sweep of the eraser pauses. “Jinyoung. I know you’re there.”
Jinyoung grins and takes a seat on the table at the front of the room. “You need any help?”
With a sigh, Jaebeom turns around, indecision twisting his mouth into a small frown. “Jinyoung—”
“You brought a lot of handouts to class today,” Jinyoung points out. “I wouldn’t want you to have to make multiple trips to your office.”
Jaebeom snorts. “Right. God forbid.”
Jinyoung regards him for a second, then switches to Korean. “Hyung.”
Pink immediately rises in Jaebeom’s cheeks and he abruptly turns back to the blackboard and starts wiping at it aggressively.
Tasting victory, Jinyoung steps closer and leans into the word so it’s almost a whine. “Hyung.”
“Jinyoung-ah.”
“I’ll just walk with you to your office.” Jinyoung tilts his head into Jaebeom’s peripheral vision. “Don’t you have office hours now, anyway? I wanted to talk to you about the reading this week, anyway.”
He knows Jaebeom can hear the truth in his voice. It’s how they’d gotten close in the first place, after all, Jinyoung trailing him to his office every week and babbling excitedly about history and literature and language all the way.
Jaebeom sets the eraser down on the blackboard’s ledge and turns to face him. “What about the reading?”
Jinyoung’s entire body perks up. “Well, what do you think?”
The corner of Jaebeom’s mouth twitches up. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that, or else I’m not much of a TA.”
“I already wrote a reflection paper on it,” Jinyoung points out. “You’re gonna read what I think anyway.”
Jaebeom gazes at him for a few long seconds before sighing again and turning toward the table. “Okay, but you … behave yourself, all right?”
“Me?” Jinyoung blinks at him. “I’m always well-behaved.”
Jaebeom doesn’t dignify that with an answer, simply pressing the thick folders of copies to Jinyoung’s chest before grabbing his backpack. With a satisfied smile, Jinyoung picks up his own bag and hurries out the door after him.
The thing is, Jinyoung doesn’t really understand why Jaebeom would think he might misbehave. Well, he might’ve understood during the first half of the semester—Jinyoung had possibly been a little too forward in the beginning, so convinced that his gorgeous TA wouldn’t spare him a second glance that he felt no need to temper his open admiration.
It turns out that the amount of restraint Jinyoung shows has turned out to be directly proportional to how terrible Jaebeom is at hiding his own interest.
Still, Jinyoung doesn’t mind behaving, as Jaebeom puts it. On the contrary, Jaebeom’s conversation is more of a reward than the blush that paints his cheeks at honorifics or how flustered he gets when they’re alone together. For all that Jaebeom is adorably endearing when he tries to play the mature, professional instructor, Jinyoung wouldn’t seek him out like this just for that.
Jinyoung listens eagerly as they make their way toward the office Jaebeom shares with the department’s other graduate students. It had taken him a while to get used to Jaebeom’s presentations, but now he loves the gentle lull of his voice. He hums between thoughts as he strings them together, a constant low level of sound that Jinyoung finds soothing.
Jaebeom’s voice is softer than their professor’s. Jinyoung thinks it’s better suited for one-on-one conversations, anyway.
The office is empty when they reach it, as usual. The department isn’t large and most of the graduate students are busy with their own classes right now.
Jaebeom shuffles over to his desk and sets his bag down. “All right, what do you want?”
Jinyoung blinks at him. “I can’t just want to listen to you?”
This is hardly the first time they’ve had this exchange, but every time, Jaebeom seems taken by surprise. “You don’t have to listen to me ramble,” he mumbles, busying himself with shifting the notepad on his desk half an inch to the left so it aligns with his keyboard.
“That’s literally your job,” Jinyoung reminds him. “To ramble at undergrads.”
Jaebeom grimaces. “Don’t remind me.”
“Does it make you feel like a dirty old man?”
“I’m not old—”
“Oh?” Jinyoung raises his eyebrows as if this is a revelation. “Does that mean I should stop calling you hyung?”
“I—wait—”
“Jaebeom-ah?”
Rather than replying, Jaebeom turns and begins rustling the papers on his desk loudly. He might be trying to pass it off as organization, but it falls flat with the paper clips and labels already decorating each clean stack.
A smile lingers on Jinyoung’s face as he gives Jaebeom a moment to process. “Just a couple more weeks until the semester is over.”
Jaebeom’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “Yep.”
“Any plans for summer?”
“Sleeping,” Jaebeom replies automatically. “So much.”
Jinyoung bites his lip, weighing his options. He’s already teased Jaebeom a fair amount today—but that’s never stopped him before. “Mind if I join?”
Jaebeom turns to squint at him. “Sleep with—?” His eyes go wide. “Park Jinyoung.”
“What?” Jinyoung cocks his head.
“You know what.” Jaebeom steps closer and lowers his voice. “You’re my student—”
“Only until December 18,” Jinyoung reminds him. “And then you’re just another student at the same university as me.”
“A graduate student.”
“Oh, my god, we were born in the same year, stop making it sound like you’re a professor already.”
“I’m in a similar position of power!”
“Just because you’re a January baby and I was born too late in September doesn’t mean you’re going to have any power over me after the semester is over.” Jinyoung pauses and then grins. “Unless you’re into that.”
“Into—” Jaebeom closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I don’t want to know,” he adds hastily when Jinyoung inhales to speak.
Jinyoung rocks nervously back onto his heels, his confidence finally faltering. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I really did just want to talk with you about the reading, but I can leave if that makes you more comfortable.”
Jaebeom sighs. “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, it’s just … I don’t want to make a mistake that’s going to fuck us both over. And it’s hard when you’re standing there looking like that and teasing me.”
“Looking like what?” Jinyoung asks on instinct, but he backs off immediately. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just habit now.”
Jaebeom turns back around to face him, his expression caught between fondness and exasperation. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”
“Not yet.” Jinyoung gives him a small smile. “Not for a couple more weeks.”
Jaebeom is silent for a moment, then says quietly, “Fifteen days, actually.”
Jinyoung’s face splits into a grin before he can cover it. “Really?”
“Really.” Jaebeom frowns. “Although, it might take me a while to grade your exams and your papers. Maybe … wait for me to talk to you first? After all the grades are submitted and everything.”
Jinyoung is torn between pouting at the extension and beaming at the proof that Jaebeom really does want to talk to him once the semester is over.
Jaebeom looks at him and snorts. “Try not to look too excited about it. You’re gonna give me performance anxiety.”
“But I am excited!” Jinyoung squeezes the straps of his bag to hold back from saying any more.
The sharp lines of Jaebeom’s face soften into a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
As always, finals turn Jinyoung into a version of himself he’d rather not acknowledge. While he naturally tends toward introversion throughout the semester, the combination of exam stress and classes ending practically turns him into a hermit. He holes himself up in his bedroom, electric kettle constantly burbling for the next cup of tea and stubble left unshaven for so long that it’s soft to the touch.
His housemates still drag him out for “necessities” like sunlight and food. While Jinyoung always whines and grumbles about their grabbing hands and loud voices, he thinks Jackson and Wonpil might be the only things keeping him sane.
He still thinks about Jaebeom, sometimes, but it doesn’t distract him. Instead, he imagines Jaebeom beside him as he furiously churns out a paper he should’ve started weeks ago. He imagines the questions Jaebeom would ask, the connections he would point out, the way his thoughts would wander down a different path than Jinyoung’s.
Jinyoung misses him. He sees him once during special office hours, but the office is packed with students with last-minute questions and pleas for extensions, so Jinyoung slips away before they can talk. Sure, he likes to tease Jaebeom, but he knows how seriously he takes his job. Besides, Jinyoung may be at the top of this literature class, but he knows how it feels to struggle and genuinely need a TA’s help.
He’s behaving. He hopes Jaebeom appreciates it.
Jinyoung is a little surprised that the address Jaebeom had sent to him was completely unfamiliar. After three and a half years on this campus, he would’ve thought that he’d found every last cafe in a five-mile radius.
The moment he steps inside, though, he understands why Jaebeom likes it. The lighting is dim and golden, nearly outshone by the crackling fireplace surrounded by low, plush chairs. Jinyoung is looking nervously at the menu—it doesn’t seem particularly complex, but he doesn’t trust it—when he hears a soft voice behind him.
“Jinyoung-ah.”
Jinyoung whirls around, already smiling even before he sees Jaebeom’s face. “Hyung!” His smile falters when he sees how pale Jaebeom looks, exaggerated by the dark circles under his eyes. “Oh … wow. Rough finals period?”
Jaebeom’s face twists into an expression that could be a smile or a grimace. “Honestly, I’ve never been the kind of person who’s naturally good at school. I just bust my ass because I like it, you know?”
Jinyoung hums in acknowledgment even though he doesn’t know, really. It makes a tiny tendril of guilt curl in his gut; what right does he have to complain when tests and essays have always come easily to him?
“I’m not like you,” Jaebeom continues. “I remember when you came into my office ten hours before that paper was due to run your thesis statement by me.”
Jinyoung splutters. “I still—”
“Got an A?” Jaebeom grins. “Yeah, I know. It still blows my mind, though.”
Jaebeom had always been friendly and nice during class and office hours, but this—this outright praise combined with his warm, unwavering gaze is overwhelming. Jinyoung glances back at the menu, wondering if this is how he’d made Jaebeom feel the whole semester.
“I don’t do it on purpose,” Jinyoug finally says. “I just want it to be perfect right from the start, but—well, you can’t really make a first draft perfect, can you?”
Jaebeom makes an understanding noise. “So you wait for the perfect time to begin, but there’s no such thing, yeah?”
“Exactly.” Jinyoung sighs. “Jackson always says I’m being ridiculous because even my eighty percent would be an A, according to him.”
“Well.” Jaebeom tilts his head. “Considering what you’re able to turn out at the last minute, I’d say even your seventy percent would be an A. Maybe lower.”
“Hyung.” Jinyoung nestles deeper into his scarf, hoping it might hide the pleased pink of his cheeks.
“What? Am I wrong?” There’s a glint to Jaebeom’s eye that Jinyoung has never seen before, and it makes his breath stutter in his chest.
All this time, Jinyoung had thought Jaebeom was simply unable to respond to his teasing. Apparently, he’d just been holding back his own.
Jinyoung buries his smile in his scarf. He’d already been excited just to be around the Jaebeom he’d met in class. Now, with the realization that there are other sides of him that Jinyoung will get to explore—
He can’t wait.
Jaebeom lets out a little noise, mostly a sigh but with just the tiniest hint of voice. Jinyoung cranes his neck to look at him. During the course of the movie, Jaebeom’s arm had ended up along the back of the couch and Jinyoung had gradually slide closer and loser until his head was pressed against Jaebeom’s chest.
He isn’t surprised at this point; they’ve had enough movie dates by now to expect it.
“You always pick such sad movies, Jinyoungie.”
The shift from Jinyoung-ah to this new pet name has Jinyoung curling even closer into Jaebeom’s chest. “But isn’t it beautiful?”
“Definitely,” Jaebeom assures him, “but don’t you get enough tragedy in your coursework?”
“There’s no such thing as a lit major getting enough tragedy.”
“What about me?” Jaebeom’s voice tips into a whine and Jinyoung has to stifle a giggle against his shoulder.
“What about you?” Jinyoung raises his eyebrows. “Anime is dramatic as hell. You’re not exempt from this.”
Jaebeom groans. “There’s a difference between Naruto and watching everyone get traumatized and die.”
“Yes,” Jinyoung says primly. “The difference is artistic merit.”
Jaebeom looks down at him with a serious expression. “You’re right. Naruto is a masterpiece compared to this.”
Jinyoung honks out an ugly laugh before he can stop it and claps his hand over his mouth. “Shut up,” he snickers.
“Make me.” There’s no bite to Jaebeom’s voice and his eyes are curved into happy crescents as he smiles. His fingers curl around Jinyoung’s wrist and tug. “Why do you cover your mouth when you laugh?”
“Hm? Oh.” Jinyoung shrugs and lets his hand fall. “I don’t really like my teeth.”
Jaebeom blinks. “But they’re cute.”
“They’re what?” Jinyoung laughs again. “How can teeth be cute?”
“You know, they’re all round and even.”
Jinyoung pulls a face. “Round?”
“In a good way,” Jaebeom rushes to clarify. “I don’t know, they’re just … cute. Like the rest of you.”
Jinyoung doesn’t know when it happened, but the arm Jaebeom had thrown over the back of the couch is resting along his shoulders now. It squeezes him close.
“Oh, really?” Jinyoung tries to keep his tone casual, but he can’t deny that it’s nice to hear sweet words from Jaebeom when he’d held back all semester.
Jaebeom hums, leaning in so his nose brushes Jinyoung’s temple. “Like you don’t know already.”
A shiver runs through Jinyoung’s body. He’d been right; Jaebeom’s voice is definitely best in one-on-one conversations.
“Don’t know what?” If Jinyoung had enjoyed teasing him during the semester, it’s nothing compared to now. Before, Jaebeom had played dumb and bitten his tongue. Now, his grip on Jinyoung’s shoulder tightens further and he tilts his head so their faces are a breath apart.
“Jinyoungie.” He draws it out with a lilting voice. “Are you fishing for compliments.”
“Depends.” Jinyoung lifts his chin. He’s properly in Jaebeom’s space now, their noses tilted just so to allow their faces closer without their lips touching. “Are you gonna give them to me?”
He can feel the warmth of Jaebeom’s chuckle against his lips. “You know, if you want something, you can just ask for it.”
Jinyoung tsks. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“You … ” Even this close, it’s almost impossible to tell the irises of Jaebeom’s eyes from his pupils. “Are you always this difficult?”
“Yes,” Jinyoung answers honestly. “But you really bring it out in me.”
“Lucky me.”
There’s a surprising genuineness to Jaebeom’s words that catches Jinyoung off guard. He turns to shove his face into Jaebeom’s neck, prompting a laugh from him.
“Oh, so now you’re getting shy?” Jaebeom nuzzles at Jinyoung’s hairline and noses down to his cheek. “What happened to the flirting?”
Jinyoung lifts his head and says indignantly, “I’m not shy.”
“Really?” Jaebeom looks entirely too amused with himself. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, it’s okay if you’re not—”
As far as Jinyoung is concerned, that’s quite enough of Jaebeom forgetting that teasing is Jinyoung’s job. Before he can finish his sentence, Jinyoung surges forward and presses his lips to Jaebeom’s.
Jaebeom had been in the middle of a sentence, so Jinyoung catches a little more teeth than he’d hoped for, but the surprised, muffled noise he makes is worth it.
He adjusts quickly, though. His mouth melts against Jinyoung’s like candy, warm and always so, so sweet. The first time they’d kissed, Jinyoung had been taken by surprise; even with Jaebeom’s shy demeanor, he hadn’t expected that he would kiss with a slow attentiveness that turned Jinyoung to putty in his hands.
It imbues their kisses with intensity. Something about the deliberate pace of it and the way Jaebeom handles him by cupping his jaw takes Jinyoung’s breath away. With the movie credits finished, the room is dim and silent. It’s quiet enough for Jinyoung to hear each sighing breath, every wet parting of their lips, the creak of the couch beneath their shifting weight. Even after a handful of make-out sessions, Jinyoung isn’t quite used to the way Jaebeom makes his head spin.
That doesn’t mean that this is all he wants, though.
He nips at Jaebeom’s lower lip—a challenge. He can feel Jaebeom’s mouth twitch toward a small smile as he lets out an amused exhale, and then Jaebeom’s hands are holding him firmly, one on his cheek and one on his neck.
Jaebeom isn’t really any taller than him, but the way he shifts forward on the cushion to gain leverage over the kiss makes Jinyoung feel suddenly smaller. Suddenly, their conversation from before flashes through his mind—It doesn’t mean you’re going to have any power over me. Unless you’re into that.
Jinyoung tries and fails to hold back a moan against Jaebeom’s lips.
Their kiss breaks and he can feel the cool hiss of Jaebeom taking a sharp breath in through his teeth—and then a warm hand grabs at his thigh. Jaebeom’s grip isn’t forceful, but it’s firm enough to make Jinyoung’s heart pound.
Jaebeom hasn’t handled him like this before when they’ve kissed. Anticipation starts to bubble low in Jinyoung’s gut.
Experimentally, he hitches his knee up over Jaebeom’s thigh. It’s a little awkward with how they’re both seated on the couch, almost a tease at actually being close, but Jaebeom’s hold on his thigh tightens and Jinyoung feels breathless like it’s more.
The obvious desire in Jaebeom’s touch emboldens Jinyoung. He wants to really feel Jaebeom, wants to have the heat of his body pressed all along his own and taste every inch of him. With a small, throaty noise, Jinyoung lifts his weight onto his knees and throws one leg over Jaebeom’s lap.
He leans in for a kiss only for Jaebeom to huff out a laugh.
Jinyoung draws back, affronted. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not!” Jaebeom bites his lip, but it does nothing to hide his smile. “Well. Not in a bad way, anyway.”
“Hyung.”
“You’re just cute, is all.”
Suddenly, Jinyoung’s position seems less advantageous as he realizes he can’t hide his blush. “No,” he insists. “That’s you.”
“You think so?” Jaebeom is smiling far too pleasantly considering his hands have found Jinyoung’s hips. He isn’t doing anything yet, but just their warm weight holding Jinyoung on his lap is enough to send his thoughts scattering.
“Yes,” Jinyoung says stubbornly. “All semester, you were so shy and serious and—!”
“Well, it’s not like I could do this to a student.” He hitches Jinyoung up higher on his lap and oh god he can feel the flex of Jaebeom’s muscular thighs beneath him. “Besides, like I said. You were cute.”
Jinyoung’s dated before. He’s hooked up before. He’s heard from multiple people that he’s attractive, so why is Jaebeom’s almost innocent praise making him want to squirm on top of him?
“First my teeth,” Jinyoung grumbles, “now my flirting. Anything else you want to call cute?”
“All of you,” Jaebeom replies. He’s far too casual about doling out sweet words when they have such an impact on Jinyoung. “But especially this.” His hands slide back to squeeze Jinyoung’s ass through his jeans.
Jinyoung laughs and tries to ignore how breathless it sounds. “That’s more like it.”
“That’s more like it?” Jaebeom tilts his head. “You don’t like it when I call you cute?”
Jinyoung pouts down at him. It doesn’t give him as much leverage as he’d hoped it would. “No.”
“No, you don’t like it?”
“No,” Jinyoung says, “I don’t don’t like it.”
A grin spreads across Jaebeom’s face. “So … you do like it.”
Jinyoung huffs and kisses him. Judging by the pleased hum Jaebeom makes into his mouth, it’s enough of an answer for him.
It’s easy to fall back into the rhythm of kissing Jaebeom. That, at least, is familiar. What isn’t familiar is the constant awareness of Jaebeom’s thighs between his own, the way each push forward into Jaebeom’s mouth is mirrored by a rock of their hips together. Jinyoung grinds down in a slow circle and feels Jaebeom’s breath catch.
“You really want it, huh?” Jaebeom’s voice sounds a little deeper, a little rougher around the edges.
Jinyoung tilts his hips back and Jaebeom squeezes his ass accordingly. “Haven’t I made it obvious that I want it for months?”
Jaebeom’s lips trail a burning path down his jaw and neck. “Oh, no, you definitely did.” He grinds up and Jinyoung can make out a rigid length pressing into the back of his thigh. “But it’s one thing to flirt with you. It’s another to have you in my lap.” He noses at the collar of Jinyoung’s sweater and nips teasingly at his throat. “It feels like you’d take anything I’d give you.”
Jinyoung swallows hard, certain that Jaebeom can feel the way his cock just twitched against the inseam of his jeans. “Well,” he says in as measured of a voice as he can muster, “I guess it depends on what you’re going to give me.”
There’s a gleam to Jaebeom’s eyes that feels like fun and danger all at once. “How about I show you?”
Jaebeom’s bed isn’t huge, but Jinyoung doesn’t mind. After Jaebeom had coaxed him out of his clothes and dropped his own shirt into his hamper, Jinyoung hadn’t wasted any time in crawling back on top of him.
He registers distantly that if he’d simply wanted to sit in Jaebeom’s lap, they could have stayed out in the sitting room. But the setting makes his heart race—the headboard behind Jaebeom, the rustle of sheets beneath his knees, the faint traces of Jaebeom’s clean scent. Combined with the tantalizing feeling of their bare skin brushing and Jaebeom’s cock straining against his briefs, the last barrier between them, Jinyoung feels almost drunk.
When Jaebeom leans over and pulls a bottle of lube out of his nightstand drawer, Jinyoung remembers another, more practical reason for their move.
Before anything else, Jaebeom slicks up his left hand and rubs wet circles into the head of Jinyoung’s cock with his fingertips. It’s so light but so deliberate—slow and wet right where he’s sensitive, and Jinyoung can feel goosebumps rise on his arms from the tingling sensation.
“You’re even cute here.” Jaebeom wraps his hand firmly around Jinyoung, keeping the pace slow as he squeezes the ring of his fingers tight up around the head and then back down.
“Oh, my god,” Jinyoung wheezes. “Stop that—”
“What, this?” Jaebeom’s hand settles at the base of his shaft, his grip suddenly loose.
“No, you know that’s not what I—” Jaebeom wriggles on his lap. “Hyung.”
Jaebeom’s other hand, which had been resting on his hip, suddenly squeezes almost bruisingly tight. A whimper bursts out of Jinyoung’s mouth before he can stop it.
Jinyoung leans in closer, grabbing at the headboard so he can get right into Jaebeom’s space. He looks him in the eye, pouts, and says, “Hyung.”
Jaebeom’s head falls back against the headboard, the thunk almost drowning out his soft groan. “Jinyoungie, please.”
“Hmm?”
Jaebeom’s hand dips slickly down between Jinyoung’s legs, cupping his balls and curling behind. “Can hyung fuck you?”
It’s been obvious what they’ve been building up to, of course it has—but hearing those words out loud, hearing his special nickname for Jinyoung and his title for himself? Every thought Jinyoung had about drawing it out and finally being able to misbehave flies out of his head.
“Yes,” he breathes. “Please, hyung.”
It turns out that getting fingered by Jaebeom isn’t so different from getting kissed by him. He takes it slow, but his movements are firm and sure as he massages Jinyoung’s rim with lube. Jinyoung can feel himself clenching and fluttering against the touch, already starving for him inside in any way he can get.
He’s always been aware that Jaebeom is a broad guy, but he can’t believe it extends to his fingers. The two working inside of him feel thick enough that Jinyoung’s breathing has gone uneven, too overwhelmed with sensation to do anything but cling to the headboard and shiver in Jaebeom’s lap.
“I could make you come like this,” Jaebeom murmurs. His gaze is fixed on Jinyoung’s face, and Jinyoung can’t tell if the heat in his cheeks is a blush from the attention or simply his burning concentration. “Do you want that?” His fingers curl and stroke inside and Jinyoung practically melts against him.
Does he want that? Eventually, yes. He wants Jaebeom in every way he can get, wants to feel all of Jaebeom inside him, then turn around and wrap himself in his hyung. He wants everything Jaebeom will give him.
For now, though, he shakes his head. “I want—” Jinyoung lets one of his hands fall from the headboard and he cups the front of Jaebeom’s briefs. There are noticeable wet spots where his cock has twitched and pressed against the gray fabric, not to mention the stray drops and smears of lube from Jinyoung.
A groan punches out of Jaebeom’s chest and Jinyoung can feel the rigid length of him flex against his palm. He slides his fingers out of Jinyoung, leaving him gasping at how open he feels.
Jaebeom waves his messy hand in the direction of the nightstand. “Get a—a condom.”
Jinyoung wishes he had a snarky response for that, but all he can do is scramble across the sheets, tear off a little foil packet, and return to Jaebeom’s lap as quickly as possible.
It makes Jaebeom chuckle. His clean hand pets at Jinyoung’s hip. “Eager.”
Jinyoung raises his eyebrows and looks at the briefs Jaebeom had discarded over the side of the bed while he’d been occupied. “I’m not the only one.”
“Of course not,” Jaebeom agrees readily. “So?”
“So?” Jinyoung parrots automatically, but he’s already reaching for Jaebeom’s cock, rolling the rubber down his length, and adding a generous palmful of lube. He gives Jaebeom a few good strokes—half as vengeance and half because the pleasure makes his mouth drop open so prettily.
It’s nothing compared to the expression he makes when Jinyoung rubs the head of his cock against his rim and slowly slides it into himself. Jaebeom’s eyes flutter half-shut, his pink lips rounding into an o. It’s a battle for Jinyoung to keep his own eyes open through the pressure and the glide, but it’s worth it to see the ecstasy on Jaebeom’s face.
As soon as he’s fully seated, Jaebeom wraps his arms snugly around his waist and presses his face to Jinyoung’s chest. Jinyoung cradles his head, stroking his hair and circling his hips to get used to the fullness.
Jaebeom lets out a shaky breath against Jinyoung’s chest and nuzzles against his sternum. “So nice, Jinyoungie.”
“Yeah,” Jinyoung half-whispers, half-sighs. He starts rocking his hips, feeling the curve of Jaebeom’s cock deep inside him. “Even better than I imagined.”
Jaebeom groans and he grinds even deeper until stars burst behind Jinyoung’s eyes. “Fuck,” he grits out, and god Jinyoung doesn’t know if he’s ever going to get used to hearing him swear, “you can’t just say that.”
“Say what?” Jinyoung slides up off of Jaebeom’s cock a few inches, savoring the hot, wet slide through his rim, and then bounces back down. He starts up a rhythm that has Jaebeom moaning again.
“That you thought about this,” Jaebeom manages.
“Why not?” Jinyoung speeds up his pace until his ass is audibly smacking down against Jaebeom’s hips. He almost squeaks when Jaebeom starts thrusting up to meet him, jolting his entire body as they move together. “Didn’t—didn’t you think about it?”
Jaebeom lets out a noise that’s almost a growl and his arms squeeze so tightly around Jinyoung’s middle that he can hardly breathe. “You know I did.”
“Do I?” Jinyoung gives his hips a playful wiggle.
“Jinyoungie—”
“Hyung.”
Suddenly, Jinyoung finds himself clutched so tightly against Jaebeom that he can’t even move to tease. His eyes go wide.
“Hyung?” The syllable has barely left his lips before his voice cuts off with a choked gasp as Jaebeom drives his hips up into him. “Oh, Jesus.”
The pace Jaebeom sets is almost brutal, faster and deeper and more forceful than anything else they’ve done before, and Jinyoung is more aware than ever that Jaebeom had toyed with him for a while already before they’d gotten to this point. The pleasure is already crashing through him, rising higher and higher and threatening to break.
“You’re such a tease,” Jaebeom grunts. The effort of every thrust is obvious in the strain of his voice, the way he’s panting for breath. “All semester, you tortured me, and now you—you—fuck—”
For once, Jinyoung can’t think of anything to say. Even if he could, he doubts he could get his mouth to form any sound other than hyung and please and wordless cries. Jaebeom is pounding into him, filling him up and holding him close, and Jinyoung feels surrounded by Jaebeom’s desire.
Jinyoung mewls when Jaebeom slips one hand between them to work Jinyoung’s cock. Between thrusting into the slick grip and still trying to work himself back onto Jaebeom’s length, Jinyoung feels overwhelmed and drawn tight, pulled in different directions until he has no choice but to squirm in Jaebeom’s lap.
When Jaebeom tilts his face up to capture Jinyoung’s lips in a sloppy kiss that’s practically panting into each other’s mouths, it feels like a final piece clicking into place, like surface tension bursting and spilling molten through Jinyoung’s body.
He moans into Jaebeom’s mouth, clinging to his neck and shoulders as his cock spills between them. He clenches around Jaebeom’s cock and savors the thickness of it inside him and the way Jaebeom curses filthily.
Even once the waves of his orgasm fade, Jinyoung rolls his lips lazily. Jaebeom swallows his whimpers with kisses, but there’s something almost gentle about the gesture, like he’s taking tiny sips rather than trying to devour Jinyoung. The arm that had been holding Jinyoung so tightly relaxes and his broad palm rubs soothingly over Jinyoung’s back.
Eventually, Jinyoung whimpers hyung and Jaebeom gets the message, tilting his hips so his cock slides out, wet and heavy.
“So good.” As Jinyoung slumps forward against Jaebeom’s body, he hardly recognizes his own voice. It sounds so spacey and slurred.
Jaebeom hums. “You’re good.”
“Hmm.” Jinyoung scoots back a little bit. He isn’t really any further away from Jaebeom’s body, simply shifted lower down his body. “Not yet, I’m not.”
Jaebeom takes a moment to process those words, still visibly hazy from the frantic pace they’d been at moments ago. “What?”
“I still need to be good for you.” Jinyoung continues sliding down, kneeling between Jaebeom’s legs now as his head dips lower and lower.
“O-oh,” Jaebeom breathes. “If you don’t want to, I can—”
“Don’t want to?” Jinyoung fixes him with an unimpressed look. “Do you know how many times I thought about sucking you off under your desk during the semester?”
“Oh, Jesus,” Jaebeom says faintly. He lifts his hands to run his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, Jinyoungie, you’re gonna kill me.”
“Not yet.” Jinyoung reaches up and tugs Jaebeom’s hand back down until it rests atop his own head.
Jaebeom gets the message and laces his fingers into Jinyoung’s hair. “What do you mean?”
Jinyoung grins up at him from between his legs and Jaebeom’s grip on his hair grows tighter.
“I’m not gonna kill you yet,” he says. He digs his fingertips into Jaebeom’s thighs to spread them wider. “We’ve got so much lost time to make up for.”