Chapter Text
It’s a Tuesday night, around 8pm, and they’re alone in the rented loft apartment they share with their two other housemates. They both had a pretty long day of classes and after Jeno came home and silently ate the meal Jaemin had prepared, he proposed they play a few rounds of their latest obsessed video game to unwind. That was two hours ago, and as the sun sank they’ve long given up pretensions of what they’re doing.
Sometime along the way Jaemin migrated between Jeno’s spread legs, settling there comfortably as if it’s his custom-made human armchair. Jeno’s solid thighs, the faint sports cologne he’s wearing, surrounding him.
The couch they’re sitting on is ratty and nondescript, one of the pieces of furniture that had come with the place when they rented it. Or rather, Renjun told him so, since Jaemin only entered the picture some time after the three of them leased the house together and searched for a fourth housemate in their university. At first Jaemin was a little intimidated to move in with three older guys, but they’ve all been very nice to him. And Jeno…
This isn’t the first, or even second occasion they’ve tangled on this sofa, until they lose track of where each other begin and end, until Jeno renders Jaemin breathless, wrenches away the ability of his patented smart mouth. Usually their shenanigans are playful, indolent late afternoon kisses and curious touches though. Today is slightly different. Feels more intense. Maybe it’s because of the relative dark.
But when Jaemin tries to rise to turn on the living room lights, Jeno stops him without saying a word with a smooth arm over his waist.
Well… that’s that, then.
-
‘How’re your classes going?’ Jeno asks after a minute without letting go of him, even though Jaemin has relaxed against his sturdy torso, the heartbeat behind his shoulder blades a steady and barely palpable rhythm.
Jaemin smiles although Jeno can’t see it. He hasn’t stopped being surprised by the little sweet gestures he receives, since it hasn’t really been long since they got together. They haven’t even told their friends yet.
‘Great,’ he replies, then winces at his chipper tone. He sounds artificial, overly bright in the dimness illuminated only by muted light from their paused video game, abandoned halfway through the round with neither of them winning or losing, their consoles scattered on the cushions on either side of them.
Jeno smiles too—Jaemin doesn’t know how, but he can tell. His voice when he speaks somehow like a caress.
‘Okay. You know you don’t have to act tough in front of me, right? I can see right through you.’
The unexpected words make Jaemin startle. He twists to glimpse Jeno’s expression, but it reveals nothing.
It’s still unnatural to think of them as boyfriends, though that’s in fact what they are. But then Jeno—the first guy Jaemin’s ever consented to dating—does stuff like this, reading his thoughts as if they were transparent, an open book. When Jaemin himself isn’t even sure why he’s been feeling vaguely uneasy lately. It’s probably the combination of the upcoming exams season and his trepidation about their developing, nascent relationship. Not because it doesn’t give him an ineffable amount of comfort, but rather because it’s so precious and important that it seems, somewhat, unbearably fragile. It was like a dream, how they even confessed their mutual feelings to begin.
-
Moving him again by accepting his response with no question, Jeno leaves the topic with ease. ‘You were on fire today.’ Again, Jaemin only half-believes the words he’s hearing, filtering into his ears hazy but whetted.
‘H-huh?’ Jaemin scrambles to recall what he did today with slight confusion. He hadn’t even known Jeno was in the vicinity or watching, but apparently he was. It shouldn’t come as a surprise since Jaemin’d lunched at the campus cafeteria with Renjun and Donghyuck, but they vaguely replied they didn’t know where Jeno was and he was most likely busy, to Jaemin’s disappointment when he asked.
‘You saw us eating together at school?’ he confirms, and feels the dip of a chin atop his shoulder.
‘Wanted to touch you so bad.’
It’s not his imagination—Jeno’s voice has hoarsened and lowered, hands sliding beneath the hem of Jaemin’s tank, drawing a shiver out of him. Not because they’re overly cold or warm but just the direct contact of bare skin.
Jeno’s knuckled hands wander under the flimsy material of Jaemin’s loose tank, nails tracing the lines of his ab muscles. Jaemin’s breath flutters from his throat.
‘How bad?’
Jeno chuckles, but sounding more breathy and breathless too. His forearms lock around Jaemin’s waist, his torso.
‘I’ll show you.’
-
From afar Jeno is all lanky limbs, but up close his musculature is devastatingly powerful. The rippling biceps next to Jaemin’s, the way Jeno gently but effortlessly lifts his left knee to hook Jaemin’s thigh over Jeno’s, spread his legs wide. Fingertips creep the length of Jaemin’s clothed inner thigh, like Jeno’s playing some soundless melody on a keyboard.
Still gently, Jeno presses those fingers upon the shape of Jaemin’s dick through the layers of his tracksuit bottoms and underwear, starting to stiffen unmistakably. The sigh that escapes Jaemin despite himself prickles his entire skin.
Jeno feels out his filling erection, tracing the length almost carefully. Then he grips it through the fabric and squeezes once, and Jaemin gasps. Officially hard now.
He swears under his breath as Jeno’s palm reaches into his waistband, down, beneath the hem of his briefs too. The cup of his grasp on Jaemin’s cock makes him buck up without control. His own hand flies to his mouth, teeth biting the side between his wrist and thumb. A shiver wracks through his body.
Jeno doesn’t push down his pants, though, just tugs his semi up so it’s wedged between his waistbands and pelvis, then pulls his hand out of Jaemin’s pants. Jaemin whines, long and low, and Jeno kisses the side of his neck. His palm strokes Jaemin’s erection from the outside again.
-
Jaemin’s cock feels hot, trapped between the mild tightness of the elastic and his own groin, not nearly enough friction. Jeno thumbs his cock head, and Jaemin oozes a couple drops of pre-ejaculate.
‘Don’t let anyone else see you like this.’
The deep voice he knows inordinately well treacles into his hearing, spiking his heartbeat.
‘L-let me come.’ Jaemin burns hotter when he hears the beg edging his rasp. ‘Please.’ He tosses all shame overboard.
Jeno laughs softly, his answer like silk. ‘Say yes and you can come.’
‘Y-yes, idiot.’ Jaemin’s croak wobbles—actually, it full-on trembles most embarrassingly. ‘Who else would see something like this?’
‘I don’t know… didn’t Hyuck say he wanted to marry you last week?’
Jaemin inhales sharply, need momentarily forgotten. ‘Ah… were you jealous by any chance?’
‘Not really,’ Jeno replies in that cryptic tone, but teeth sink into Jaemin’s piercing—the earrings they’d bought together recently—and the necklace he’s wearing is tugged tight against his neck like a leash.
Jeno drops the chain and taps Jaemin’s mouth with his index and third fingers, other hand loose around his throbbing erection. When Jaemin parts his lips obediently Jeno thrusts the digits in. ’Suck.’
The dual stimulation of the bass flowing into Jaemin’s ear, the way Jeno tugs at him through the cotton once more, moistened finger pad rubbing Jaemin’s cock head on the upstroke, has him biting off a sharp groan. He blindly gropes for Jeno’s elbow.
‘Gonna cum,’ he can barely warn before white surges from his sensitive tip, spurting the front of his shirt and Jeno’s fingers. Jaemin curses again, dragging ragged breaths as cum seeps into his clothes and his frame slumps limp against the body supporting him. His one thigh remains hitched wanton over Jeno’s but he doesn’t even care about the whorish sprawl he’s in.
-
His orgasm lasts longer than normal, cum continuing to trickle weakly even after his mortification has run out. Jeno doesn’t shift his lax touch away, and Jaemin squirms, humiliated.
A low-pitched noise he realises is from the back of his own throat is silenced by lips pressed to his temple.
‘Shh,’ Jeno soothes, telling him it’s okay at the same time he reminds Jaemin to be quiet, even though there’s nobody else home—it’s the clandestine thrill that gets them off.
Jeno gingerly wipes some of the viscous fluid off his hand on the material of Jaemin’s top after he finally finishes. ‘Wow.’ His dry laugh pierces Jaemin. ‘You came a lot.’
Jaemin whimpers with halfhearted annoyance, feeling messy and sated in equal measure. At no point during his day of classes did he imagine he would be getting his dick played with by his new boyfriend on their couch that night. Not that he’s complaining in the least.
All of a sudden, awkwardness descends as if it had just been waiting around the corner. Jaemin pointedly does not look at the remainder of his copious cum drying on Jeno’s palm.
It’s unfair beyond words, really—how this person can fluster him to higher agitation than any other human being in his life has been able before.
-
Mercifully—or maybe not—they don’t have much chance to dwell in the charged tension because like a bolt from the blue the door of the bedroom their two other housemates share swings open and they both freeze beside each other like blocks of ice, blood running cold as they whip to see Renjun standing in the doorway looking bewildered. Comprehension dawns on his face with sinking alacrity.
‘Oh my fucking god.’
Apparently he’d initially mistook, amidst the low light, that Jaemin and Jeno were merely spooning as they sometimes lazily curled up in the living room playing games or drinking. Renjun is tousle-haired, face pillow-creased like he just woke from a nap.
‘Did you two just jerk off on our couch? When did you even start dating?’ He pins an accusatory glare on Jeno, who shakily finds his speech.
‘Jun—‘
‘Enough.’ Renjun lifts a hand. ‘I don’t want to hear anything before you… before you get yourself decent. Both of you. I’m giving you fifteen minutes and no more!’ A slam of the door ensues as he retreats into the room cringing.
Around thirty seconds pass as Jeno and Jaemin process what just happened, then the thickness of the air returns worse than before, but at the same time Jeno starts giggling almost hysterically and Jaemin loses it too.
‘I can hear you!’ Renjun shrieks from behind his door. ‘This isn’t funny. Get moving.’
‘He was here this whole time?’
‘I’m so sorry; I swear I had no idea—‘
Jeno’s never once lied to him, so of course Jaemin trusts him. He appears even more protective now, unintentionally putting Jaemin in a position where his vulnerability which Jeno had earlier gotten territorial about, was sighted by another. Jaemin doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would’ve, since it’s just Renjun. It’s also hilarious for some reason.
Aware of the griminess of his clothes, his dick Jeno tenderly tucked back into his underwear chafing stickily against the confines, as well as Renjun waiting, Jaemin scrambles into action to finally climb off Jeno and go to shower.
But Jeno refuses to release him.
‘Please…’
‘Please what?’
‘Hyung.’
The word relaxes Jeno’s lock hold on his waist like magic. He reaches with his lithe grace to the table beside the sofa arm for the box of tissues, and as he shifts Jaemin feels a hardness digging into his ass. He registered murkily that Jeno was increasingly turned on just now, but didn’t realise he was so aroused that even Renjun’s arrival failed to flag his erection.
Jeno hisses a sharp intake of breath when Jaemin pushes back against the clothed ridge of his own trapped cock. But when Jaemin turns and reaches down towards Jeno’s crotch, their eyes locking breathlessly, Jeno grabs his elbow.
‘I’ll take care of it myself.’
Before Jaemin realises, Jeno has leaned in to peck the corner of his mouth, dry and clumsy. He can’t meet Jaemin’s stare after doing so.
‘Why’d you do that?’ Jaemin dumbly shrills, keeping his volume down.
Jeno shrugs, still not meeting his gaze but sounding cracked. ‘’Cause I wanted to.’
‘You guys are so dead!’ Renjun seethes from behind the wall before the moment can get remotely romantic. ‘Donghyuck is on his way home; don’t traumatise him like you did me.’
Obviously—that sets them off yet again.
-
Fuck, Jaemin mutters for the third time that night, this time in his head. He’s so screwed. He might really be serious about this.
I’m in love with you.
Words he never dreamt he’d ever hear from the mouth of the sunbae, the upperclassman, one of the three hyungs he’d lived with since second semester of freshman year. Jaemin never caught on to the fact, until Jeno mumbled this admittance with his quiet, excruciatingly shy expression, that he’d been watching Jaemin for that long. That he’d developed feelings more than platonic.
That he found Jaemin lovable. So much so even though they were both guys, at the risk of ruining their friendship, Jeno mustered up the courage to confess to him.
Something below Jaemin’s chest shifted then, and tonight he feels the same thing trip again watching Jeno lope away, his rumpled hoodie, the back view of his broad shoulders making Jaemin wonder passionately what he’s thinking.
If, as well, his mind is filled by Jaemin.
-
‘Jeno,’ he calls, the word escaping his vocal chords on its own.
Shutting off the game screen across the room, Jeno turns, hair falling into widened eyes.
‘Jaemin?’
There’s some alternate universe where they’re the same age, addressing each other intimately by name like this. Jaemin beholds his lover’s kind face, his dark eyes smiling, and is certain that in this other universe, he’s in love with Jeno too.