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Being an idol, Jongin thought, was both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a blessing, obviously, because he wouldn’t be doing what he did if the bad outnumbered the good, but also a curse at times. Like when he would have to cover his head with a cap and his face with a mask while wearing a black hoodie hiding his form, or when he’d arrive at an airport and nearly get trampled by their fans. Or when, like right now, he would have to sneak through the dark corners of the city while hoping for nobody to notice him – he didn’t want another dating scandal surrounding him and Taemin.
They weren’t dating, at least not really. They’d never really cleared that one up, Jongin absentmindedly realized while sliding through another narrow alley, but it didn’t really seem like they needed to. These things had always been awfully easy between them, even if they didn’t get to see each other as often as they would like.
They were both incredibly busy, schedules piling on top of each other one after another, so when the opportunity presented itself to finally have a day off to relax, Jongin wouldn’t take it for granted, and when he found out that Taemin’s day off lined up perfectly with his, Jongin didn’t waste another minute before rushing over to the other’s apartment.
They were best friends – more than that, Jongin’s mind supplied, a small smile forming on his lips – for as long as either of them could remember, and even if finding time to see Taemin was becoming increasingly hard, Jongin wouldn’t change it for the world.
Of course, a day off didn’t simply erase the pressure they were under, or the tension that had become a constant in their muscles, but when Jongin finally stood in front of Taemin’s door, foot tapping to the current beat stuck in his head in impatience.
The door swung open then, revealing a messy-haired Taemin in some old sweats that he probably owned since his trainee days and a too-big black shirt which probably belonged to Jongin. It was endearing, Jongin thought.
Taemin ushered him inside, complaining about how he’d waited so long, Jongin, I thought I would’ve had to start alone, before he nearly shoved Jongin towards his bedroom.
The window was already wide open when Taemin kicked the door shut, the room filled with the chilly air the night brought with it. Taemin made his way towards his dresser, picking out the usual stuff before throwing it at Jongin.
“You roll better than I do. Plus, I just applied hand cream. It wouldn’t be the greatest addition,” Taemin said as an explanation upon seeing Jongin’s questioning frown. Taemin usually liked showing off his skills at rolling their nightly blunt.
It wasn’t something they did a lot, obviously, with the numerous concerts and rehearsals taking up nearly all their time. They couldn’t go and perform while being off their face, so Taemin only ever called Jongin over when they were both free of their schedules the next day. Which was the case right now, with Jongin sitting on the edge of Taemin’s bed, balancing a small dish on his thighs while his fingers moved the thin paper between his fingers. Jongin absentmindedly felt Taemin’s stare directed at him from where he was sitting on his desk opposite of him. The burn of the other’s eyes made his body tingle already when he brought the blunt to his lips and licked a stripe along the side, efficiently wetting the paper before sticking it together.
Jongin looked up after he was done, raising one eyebrow in a way of saying, “get over here, what are you waiting for,” and silently wondered if the redness on Taemin’s face wasn’t only from the bright neon lights flaring through the partly-closed curtains.
He didn’t really have time to ponder too long, though, not with a lighter being thrown at him and Taemin nearly knocking him over as he let himself fall down onto the mattress. Jongin just chuckled slightly, setting the dish down carefully and moving to sit beside Taemin once again, their backs now both resting against the wall while Jongin played with the small lighter, tracing the letters they engraved into it together when they were just trainees. Jongin always wondered how they managed to not lose it in the eleven years they owned it, trading it back and forth between them.
His small reminiscing was interrupted with Taemin snatching the white lighter and the rolled blunt out of Jongin’s fingers, making him blink a few times before huffing out a breath. “You always say the one rolling gets to take the first hit.”
Taemin laughed, head tipping back just the slightest before humming, “fine, come here, then.”
Jongin furrowed his brows, confused, but obliged, moving even closer to Taemin and turning his head to face the other. He eyed Taemin switching the blunt from one hand to the other before he was bringing it up to Jongin’s mouth, tapping his bottom lip with a pointer finger. Jongin’s lips opened the slightest bit and Taemin stuck the filter between them before he heard the lighter itch once, twice, thrice from its place in Taemin’s hand.
When it finally lit up with a rasp, illuminating Taemin’s face in front of him in a soft orange hue, Jongin’s eyes averted only slightly from where they were focused on the reflection of the flame in Taemin’s dark eyes to watch the tip of the blunt burn down. He waited a bit until Taemin let the flame die out and dropped the lighter on the bed next to them before inhaling, letting the smoke pool in his lungs. He grabbed the blunt with two fingers, opening his lips again to blow out the smoke into Taemin’s face. Taemin startled, his eyes immediately leaving the focus they had on Jongin’s lips, and raised a hand to lightly slap Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin laughed, letting out an incredulous “Ow!” before poking Taemin in the side.
“I let you roll and hit first and this is the thanks I get?” Taemin then said, cowering away from Jongin’s attack while letting out a lighthearted giggle.
Jongin just laughed harder, taking another long drag of the blunt before passing it to Taemin, who had moved to lay down on his back with his head resting on Jongin’s lap.
There was something entrancing about the way Taemin’s jaw tightened while inhaling the thick smoke, only to relax again with the exhales. It was nothing new, of course, that Jongin thought of Taemin as attractive. Maybe even beautiful, or breathtaking.
It was familiar, like everything else always has been in their relationship. It all came naturally, at one point, and it’s never been unwelcome.
Not unwelcome at all, Jongin thought again, looking down at Taemin with glazed eyes. The other wasn’t in a better condition, his eyes bloodshot and dazed, a blush adorning his cheeks while his right hand still held the blunt between two fingers in front of his puffy lips.
“There’s, like, one hit left. Wanna share?” Taemin asked then, voice slightly hoarse. Jongin nodded, Taemin’s words only half registering through the clouds in his mind, but he quickly caught on to what Taemin meant when the latter moved his head from its spot on Jongin’s lap and slung a leg over it instead, efficiently straddling Jongin’s thighs. He shuffled lightly, humming while searching for the lighter to re-light the died-out blunt. He let out a triumphant sound when he held the lit blunt in his hand, and Jongin could already feel the laughter bubbling in his throat from Taemin finding joy in such ridiculous things.
He didn’t laugh, though, settling for simply letting a fond smile grace his lips while he watched Taemin take a last big inhale before putting the blunt out and throwing it in the trash next to the bed. There was a shiver running through Jongin’s entire body when Taemin’s hand slid behind his neck, thumb running circles on his skin while the distance between them got increasingly less.
When there was barely a hairs breadth between their mouths left, Jongin parted his lips, Taemin doing the same before exhaling the smoke still pooling in his lungs into Jongin’s mouth.
They did this a lot, and at this point they both knew that the claim “It’s the last hit, wanna share?” was nothing more than a lame excuse to make out. It was childish, really, how both of them seemed to wait for the other to finish the blunt so that they could share that last puff of smoke between their mouths before nearly desperately locking their lips together in a passionate kiss.
It was the same right now, Taemin’s mouth moving against his while the hand not resting on his neck slid slightly under his shirt. Jongin gasped at the coldness of the fingers coming into contact with his heated skin, his hands now automatically coming to rest on Taemin’s hips. Everything suddenly felt too hot, even with the window ajar to let the crisp spring air enter the stuffy room, and breathing seemed to become increasingly difficult the moment Jongin felt Taemin’s tongue prod at his bottom lip.
This wasn’t new, either. Far from it, actually. The first time they were like this – Taemin in Jongin’s lap, fingers roaming his body and tongue invading his mouth – was when Jongin had just debuted. They weren’t even high there, just frustrated and incredibly touch-starved. Everything was awkward after that first time for a while, until Taemin came over to Jongin’s dorm and muttered something about how he was so stupid, never ignore me again, for fucks sake.
From that point, it became normal between them. They never bothered to put a label on this, because it was just too complicated at the moment. Jongin thinks somewhere along the line they came to the silent conclusion that they were best friends around everyone else and lovers for each other. And he liked it like that. A lot.
Especially when that agreement made Taemin pull at Jongin’s shirt with fast hands, sliding it over his head with neat movements and dropping it to the floor next to them before letting Jongin remove his top, too. They stopped for a moment, staring at each other through the cloudiness of their brains, smiling before Taemin went to mouth at Jongin’s jaw. He travelled down, making Jongin throw his head back with a sigh when he sucked slightly on the skin below his ear. Every little touch felt ten times more electric through the haze of his high, and Jongin had to use what felt like all of his left-over energy to move them further down the bed, but eventually managed to have them laying down wholly on the bed with Jongin’s head propped on a pillow.
He felt like he was buzzing when Taemin began moving away from his neck only to continue leaving fading hickeys down Jongin’s chest, only stopping to circle the tip of his tongue against his nipple. Jongin’s breath hitched in his throat, arching his back the slightest bit to search for friction against his steadily hardening dick.
He felt Taemin chuckle against his skin before he continued sliding his lips down, down, down his stomach, leaving a wet trail with his tongue. He kept lightly biting the skin of Jongin’s pelvis as his hands fumbled with the pants riding low on Jongin’s hips, popping open the button and sliding the zipper down painfully slowly.
“Come on, hurry up…” Jongin breathed, only receiving a fleeting glance and a smirk from Taemin before the latter started palming his hard bulge through his jeans. It left Jongin moaning embarrassingly loudly, surprised at the sudden touch through the confines of the fabric.
Taemin chuckled again, grounding his hand harder down onto Jongin’s crotch. Jongin began grinding upwards, in need of more friction against his aching dick, but he knew he’d only feel any satisfaction with Taemin’s hands – or mouth, Jongin doesn’t have half the mind to care – on his dick, directly, not through the too-thick and too-rough fabric of his washed-out jeans.
It should be embarrassing how fast Taemin was able to reduce Jongin to a whimpering mess beneath him, how fast Jongin could do nothing else but moan out his pleas for more, please, anything.
But it wasn’t, because this was Taemin, and Jongin knew that if he’d done just one thing different tonight, it would be Taemin begging him.
So when he felt Taemin finally, finally slide his pants down and off, he nearly moaned in relieve as the nearly-painful enclosure around his dick was gone, only his boxers keeping Taemin’s hand from giving him the pleasure he needs.
He should’ve known Taemin wouldn’t make it that easy, though, because he just went back to leisurely palming Jongin through his boxers, making him sigh in pleasure and frustration both.
“God, please, Taemin, touch me,” Jongin said, voice hoarse with either the remnants of smoke or the pleasure Taemin brought upon him.
“I am touching you, though.” Taemin smirked again, sliding his hand through his blonde hair once, leaving it looking even more tousled than before. It made Jongin’s breath catch on a whine.
“You- You know what I mean.”
Taemin leaned back down, their bare chests touching now, and pulled Jongin in for an open-mouthed kiss. While Jongin found himself only focusing on the feeling of Taemin’s tongue sliding wetly against his own and his fingers pulling against the strands of his hair, Taemin slid his hand still on his crotch into his boxers, grasping Jongin’s dick tightly in his hand.
Jongin gasped into Taemin’s mouth when he felt the other’s hand slide smoothly against the sensitive skin, thumb circling over the head with every upwards stroke to retrieve the steadily-building precum to make the movement slicker.
It didn’t take long until Jongin’s breathy gasps transformed into needy moans, his hips moving to meet every stroke Taemin gave him, effectively building up a steady rhythm that left Jongin positively breathless as he let Taemin swallow every noise that left his mouth.
They weren’t even kissing anymore, Jongin just gasping and whining into Taemin’s mouth as the other occasionally bit Jongin’s lower lip before soothing it with soft licks of his slick tongue, making Jongin’s pleasure climb higher and higher with every passing minute.
When Taemin moved his lips to his neck once again before biting down on the pulse point, Jongin felt his member twitch and his legs tense up. He was close, so close, and it was all so much yet not enough. Taemin kept the movement of his wrist smooth, frequent, slow, and it was driving Jongin crazy as he threw his head back and bared his throat for Taemin to mark up as much as he pleased.
Taemin was teasing, Jongin knew that. Taemin always teased, sometimes to the point where there would be tears brimming behind Jongin’s closed eyes and nails digging into the palms of his hands or the skin on Taemin’s back. Taemin loved to see Jongin on the edge, constantly only one step away from falling over and into the deep void of pleasure, and he made sure to draw it out as long as he could.
By now, Jongin was writhing against the dampened sheets, bangs stuck to his forehead with the sheen of sweat glimmering on his skin. His one hand had moved to grasp Taemin’s hair, every too-hard pull triggering a deep groan from the blonde’s throat as his hand continued to slide torturously along his cock.
“Taemin- fuck, more, please,” Jongin gasped, pulling the blonde strands between his fingers to make Taemin’s eyes lock onto his own. The wicked glint in those eyes made a tremor course through his body, and he nearly cried out loud when the source of satisfaction that Taemin’s hand had left him with suddenly disappeared.
Jongin was about to snap at Taemin, already opening his mouth to take in a long breath but nearly choked when Taemin started dragging himself down Jongin’s body, hands mapping out the muscles contracting under his every touch. Jongin’s breathing sped up again, anticipation growing with every inch Taemin continued to move down.
Jongin felt Taemin’s finger tease around the seam of Jongin’s boxers again, this time not wasting too much time before finally sliding them off Jongin’s frame and moving to kiss at Jongin’s inner thighs. It was another one of these moments where Jongin realized just how well they knew each other’s bodies. How Taemin knew that the bruising kisses he left to bloom against Jongin’s thighs would leave him gasping for breath in mere minutes, just how Jongin knew that the right amount of scratching against Taemin’s back would bless his ears with high, melodic moans leaving the other’s throat in even less time.
He couldn’t hold on to that thought any longer, though. Not with Taemin raising his head slightly and blowing hot air onto the tip of Jongin’s dick, looking up into his eyes with that sultry gaze that promised absolute bliss.
Jongin struggled to hold their locked eye-contact when Taemin let his tongue loll out and lick his length from root to shaft, circling the tip of his tongue along the head. He didn’t want to look away, though. Didn’t want to miss the captivating sight that was Taemin stretching his full bruised lips over Jongin’s cock while still keeping his eyes on Jongin’s every expression.
Taemin slid down, letting Jongin’s cock hit the back of his throat and his pelvis brush the tip of his nose before pulling back up only to suck hard on the head, all the while holding Jongin’s hips from bucking upward. It was less of a safety measure than it was a sign of control. To show who’s in charge for tonight, to show how easily Taemin was able to dominate Jongin right now.
It was exhilarating, and Jongin felt like he was seconds away from being on the edge once again when Taemin started bobbing his head at a rapid pace, locks of blonde hair falling into his face from where they were tucked behind his ears.
Jongin was moaning, whining, making sounds that only Taemin could manage to bring out of him, his hands absentmindedly crumpling the fabric of the black sheets between long fingers. He had his eyes thrown back by now, eyes clenched tightly and mouth parted to let every sound escape and pierce through the quiet air around them.
When he felt Taemin’s hands leave one of his hips, Jongin blinked open his eyes, willing the blurriness of everything around him to subside. Once it did, he could pick up the hasty movement of Taemin’s right arm, hand disappearing from Jongin’s line of sight between Taemin’s legs.
The thought of Taemin getting off on this, on sucking Jongin off while Taemin himself was still fully clothed despite his discarded shirt, made Jongin twitch inside the hot mouth surrounding his hard cock.
Taemin was still moving his head up and down at a fast pace, sucking on Jongin’s cock on every upwards slide, and Jongin couldn’t hold back as he moved to grasp Taemin’s hair in his right hand. He was neither pushing him down nor pulling him off, just holding tightly onto the thin strands between his fingers while he climbed higher and higher, nearly tasting the pleasure Taemin was giving him.
Jongin’s back was arched, his head thrown back, throat elongated as loud breaths and low moans escaped his mouth. He was so close, his climax creeping up his spine dangerously fast, and he had half the mind to pull at Taemin’s hair.
“Tae- Ah, Taemin, Fuck, I’m so close, god, don’t stop,” he said, moans littering the sentence, and once Taemin let his other hand go from Jongin’s hip to scratch against the soft skin of his thighs, Jongin knew he was a goner.
His moans grew in volume and he began mumbling a mix of praises and pleads for Taemin to don’t stop, please, fuck- you’re so good, just like that, so close and when Taemin circled the tip of his cock with his tongue one last time before sucking him into his mouth once again, Jongin’s eyes widened before promptly clenching shut again, mouth falling open as he felt his high consume him. His hips were mindlessly moving off the mattress, breaths coming out in high moans and soft whines as he let his cum fill Taemin’s mouth.
He could feel Taemin’s throat tightening while he swallowed after every spurt, making Jongin’s moans rise in pitch even more as he rode out his orgasm. Once he was spent, Taemin pulled off, one hand still working his cock with lazy strokes. It was only when Jongin shuddered and let out a series of whimpers from the overstimulation that Taemin stopped, moving to sit up.
Taemin sat back on the balls of his feet, looking down at Jongin with an adoring look on his face, studying the slowly-calming rise of his chest and the shallow glow of sweat on the golden skin while he started working on pulling down his own sweatpants, the wet spot in the front clearly making the lack of underwear evident before Taemin pulled them down completely at last.
He started stroking his own dick quickly, precum at the tip making for a slick sound resonating through the quiet room only supported by both of their labored gasps as Jongin watched Taemin slide his hand over himself expertly.
Jongin didn’t want to settle for just watching, though, finding the energy to lift his arm and grasp Taemin by the back of his neck and pull him down on top of him. Taemin steadied himself on one elbow next to Jongin’s head, peering down on him while thrusting into his own hand at an excruciating pace.
Jongin leaned up, then, catching Taemin’s puffy lips in a sensual kiss that left the older moaning even needier. Jongin nibbled on Taemin’s bottom lip, not going for the harsh kisses they shared in the beginning, rather just enjoying the feeling of plush lips pushing against his own pliant ones.
Taemin broke away eventually, desperately gasping for air as he let his head fall heavily next to Jongin’s. The younger took the chance to press his lips to the other’s neck instead, leaving bruises to match the ones littering the expanse of his own neck. The bites left Taemin’s breath hitching, moans increasing in their volume as his arm began to shake with the effort of holding himself up. Taemin was close.
Jongin moved one arm around him, letting his nails dig into the soft skin of Taemin’s back while his other hand found its way towards Taemin’s own, grasping the swollen dick with a firm intent.
Taemin groaned, lacing their fingers together and leading their hands in a fast pace over his leaking cock, the head occasionally dragging across Jongin’s abdomen and leaving a trail of sticky precum.
As Jongin watched Taemin with intent, he thought that if he hadn’t just had an astonishing orgasm, his dick would be just as hard as Taemin’s right now. Taemin looked sinfully beautiful; Hair tousled, some strands sticking to his forehead, his neck blooming with red bruises, lips shining with their combined saliva and Jongin was sure that his back had multiple red lines running down from the scratches of Jongin’s fingernails. It was breathtaking, Taemin looking like an absolute mess because of Jongin.
When he heard Taemin let out those small hitching whines, Jongin knew it wouldn’t take him long anymore to reach his peak. He moved his head, mouth directly by Taemin’s ear as he whispered low nothings, breathing out, “come on, Taemin, come for me. Look so beautiful. So good for me. Fuck, come on, baby.”
And that’s it. Taemin seemed to freeze, only dragging their joined hands over his cock, and Jongin could feel the hot sensation of Taemin’s cum drop on his stomach. Taemin dropped down, arm now given up on holding his weight up, his hips still thrusting into the circle of their hands in the final moments of his aftershocks.
Jongin could feel Taemin’s hot breath against his neck and their bodies sticking together with sweat and Taemin’s cum while the room was filled with the blonde’s heavy gasps. It wasn’t a great feeling, definitely not comfortable, but when Taemin moved his hand away from his spent cock and dragged Jongin’s with him, leaving them laced together next to their heads, Jongin couldn’t really bring himself to care.
In the end, it was Taemin who moved first, letting out a loud complaint of, “god, we feel fucking disgusting,” before reaching out and grabbing a handful of tissues from the bedside table, cleaning them up as much as possible before throwing them into the main direction of the trash. Jongin snorted when he missed by a few feet, earning a slap against his bare shoulder.
“You better stop laughing at me if you want any cuddles,” Taemin said, already curling into Jongin with his back against his chest and grabbing his arm to wrap around Taemin’s torso, Jongin’s nose brushing against his neck.
Jongin chuckled, humming, “yeah, yeah, love you, too.”
The only answer he got was Taemin grabbing his hand and joining their fingers together, bringing them to his lips and leaving a lingering kiss before Jongin let himself be dragged into unconsciousness with Taemin’s soft breaths filling his ears.