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Jisung is in his element like this. He doesn't have to be gentle. The care he takes to account for each long limb and digit when he dances, when he's skirting around one of Renjun's art projects left out to dry- Jaemin asks none of it of him. Asks for the exact opposite, even. There are no honorifics here. They're left crumpled on the floor along with their clothes.
Jaemin stares up at him pleadingly, as though he can make Jisung flinch.
"Please, Jisung. Let me go to the bathroom and I'll come straight back. I don't want to..." He swallows, a blush burning pink peonies into his cheeks. "I don't want to have an accident."
Jaemin is a force of nature on stage, bold and fearless, untouchable. When they're like this, with Jisung pinning him down, it's like all the self assuredness is being squeezed out of him. It's constricted, blanched, like his skin where Jisung's spidery hands are wrapped around his wrists.
Maybe it's because it's so contrary to his usual self that they both like this so much, Jisung wonders. That, or the way it lets them both get out of their heads, lets them be mindless for a while. In the end, it hardly matters.
Jaemin is squirming under him, trying to distract himself from how badly he needs to piss. He's out of luck; he drank a litre of water before they started, and there's no way he could overpower Jisung, even if he tried his hardest. The fact of the matter is, he isn't going to try his hardest, because he doesn't want it to stop. Neither of them do.
Jisung gathers Jaemin's wrists in one hand and holds them against the pillow over his head, letting his free hand creep down Jaemin's naked and clenching stomach to sit like an anvil over his bladder.
Jaemin gasps, his eyes impossibly wide and pleading.
"No, no, no, Jisungie, please!"
His brows are pulled into a desperate frown, but he stops squirming. Jisung grins at him with all the blinding warmth of the midday sun.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
His voice is sugarcoated and taunting, and though they both know what the issue is, it's more fun to make Jaemin say it.
He can barely keep eye contact, and his wrists twitch in Jisung's hold.
"Don't press my stomach, oppa, I'm afraid I'm gonna... I'm gonna pee myself."
It's adorable how much he obviously hates saying the words out loud, and Jisung can't help but laugh at his pouty face.
He keeps the warm smile on his lips as he presses down over Jaemin's bladder, just once, testing.
The reaction is immediate; he cries out, all the muscles in his stomach seize up, and he tries in vain to squeeze his legs together, but Jisung's weight is absolute where he's straddling his thighs.
"Please please please Jisungie, oppa, please let me go to the bathroom."
Jisung is unmoved, just keeps Jaemin pinned and helpless.
Once he realises his pouting isn't going to get him anywhere, he lets his body go limp underneath Jisung. It feels incredible, an entirely autonomous and breathing human being just... Submitting like that, all for Jisung. There's a swirling feeling in his abdomen, adrenaline and just being plain horny. His dick is so hard it's straining the fabric of his briefs, the only item of clothing he still has on.
Jaemin has a way of seeing right through you, if he wants to- his eyes turn half-lidded, smouldering, like he could turn you to ashes if the whim took him. He's rounding that same gaze on Jisung, now, the pleading and aegyo long forgotten, and Jisung feels his cock throb in his briefs.
"Jisung."
Jaemin's voice is fathoms-deep and resonant, beautiful but forboding. He's burning every millimetre of Jisung's skin that his molten brown eyes drag over.
"Next time you get this cocky, I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be walking with a limp. Mark my words."
This is what Jisung loves most- the push and pull between them, the way they can both switch between predator and prey. Jaemin always knows when to flip the switch, always knows what Jisung needs before he knows he needs it. They've always been like this, and it makes his trust in Jaemin unshakable. Nobody else could be as attentive and reflexive when it comes to sex.
He lets go of Jaemin's wrists, then, and leans over him to kiss him with a groan. Their mouths clash together, both of them rock hard and feverish with it. They press their clothed cocks together and feel the drag of friction against one another, moaning like they both want to rut pathetically until they come.
Jaemin's tongue is hot and wet in Jisung's mouth, endlessly probing, like he wants to know the ridges of all his teeth by heart. There's so much spit passing between them that it should be disgusting, but these things never are, not to them.
Jisung creeps his hands down Jaemin's sides, still kissing him sloppily, and then he's tickling Jaemin's ribs with feather light touches.
Jaemin keens into his mouth, biting the fat plushness of his bottom lip.
"Holy fuck, Jisung, please, I need to piss so bad, I'm not gonna be able to hold it if you tickle me. No tickling, please!"
He tries to grab Jisung's wrists and pry his hands away, but it's no use. Jisung stops tickling, but keeps his palms pressed against Jaemin's ribs like a silent threat.
"Jesus fucking christ, Sung, you're gonna kill me. I'm doomed. I've never needed to piss so bad in my life."
Jisung grins, then flicks at Jaemin's nipples, pulling at them gently just to hear him gasp. The whine he makes when Jisung starts rubbing at his cock through his underwear is high and desperate.
"Which do you think you want more, hm? To piss, or to come?"
Jisung's voice is matter-of-fact, while he peels Jaemin's briefs down to rub small circles into the fat head of his cock.
Jaemin is whimpering, squirming, breathing in fast little pants.
"I don't... I don't know... Jisung, fuck, do something, please."
Jisung does as he's told.
He takes Jaemin's underwear off completely, kneeling between his thighs. They're taught with muscle, the skin delicately soft.
"You're so pretty, Jaeminie," he murmurs. It's without warning that he starts licking at the velvety skin of Jaemin's balls, hanging heavy and full over his taint. Jaemin whines, gripping Jisung's hair with one hand.
"S... Sungie, that's so so good."
He keeps going, sucking each ball into his mouth, feeling the weight and the softness on his tongue. Jaemin tastes incredible- musky, the intimate saltiness of fresh sweat mixing with the lingering scent of the fabric softener he uses. It's delicious, and Jisung could really be in love.
He moves higher, starting to lap at the base of Jaemin's cock, while he lays one wide palm over his abdomen.
"God I'm not going to be able to control myself if you keep doing that. It feels so fucking good, Jisungie."
Jisung looks up at Jaemin with wide, innocent eyes, nuzzling into the side of his cock. "You like it, hm? I know how badly you wanna piss in my mouth, Jaeminie."
Jaemin's eyes darken so harshly they appear to turn black.
"So badly, Sung, want it so much. Wanna see it running down your chin. Want you to spit it into my mouth."
"Oh, fuuuuck." Jisung groans. In one decisive movement, he fits his plush lips over the head of Jaemin's cock, and sucks down the head until it's snug in his mouth.
Jaemin moans, and his grip in Jisung's hair tightens even further.
"Yes, god, your fucking mouth, 'Sung."
Jisung suckles hungrily, and puts more pressure on Jaemin's bladder with the same insistent palm.
He can feel Jaemin's cock throbbing on his tongue, can feel his abdomen spasming, and he knows what's coming. Jaemin arches off the bed with a feral whine, and then he's babbling like he's lost control of himself.
"I'm, I'm, gonna, I can't hold it anymore, oh my godddddd-"
Jisung watches the way Jaemin's eyes roll back in his head as he finally lets go. Hot piss floods Jisung's mouth, nearly tasteless, but so maddeningly warm from being inside Jaemin's body. It just keeps coming and coming, and Jisung has to gulp back a mouthful to make room for the rest. It races down his throat, blazing a trail to his stomach, making him feel so overwhelmingly full of Jaemin. Precome spurts from his cock, staining his briefs even worse.
Jisung can feel Jaemin squeezing out the last few splashes of piss into his eager mouth. The tension has lifted from his body, but his cock is still rock hard in Jisung's mouth.
Jaemin pulls Jisung up the bed to straddle him again, and immediately pulls him into a desperate kiss. The piss Jisung had saved in his mouth flows out of it, now, into Jaemin's mouth, down their chins. They moan in unison, and Jaemin licks every inch of Jisung's mouth, thirsty for his own piss and Jisung's hot and viscous spit.
When they pull away to look each other in the eye, they're both wrecked beyond saving. There's piss and spit smeared over their cheeks and chins. Jaemin's cock is thick and dark red, and Jisung knows he wants to come. They both do.
Jaemin pushes Jisung to lay flat on the bed, trading places, and he roughly tugs his underwear off. The amount of precome smeared all over Jisung's cock is obscene. Jaemin gathers it up in his hand, and even that friction is enough to make Jisung groan lowly.
"I want to make us come together, okay, Sung?"
Jisung nods fervently.
"Ok, baby, lay still for me. I'm going to make us feel so fucking good."
The molten smoulder is back in Jaemin's eyes as he looks down at Jisung, gathering their cocks together in one hand and letting a glob of piss-laced spit drop from his lips and on to their throbbing lengths. He murmurs in his deep and taunting voice while he jerks their cocks off together.
"You're such a good boy, Jisungie, so thirsty for my piss, hm? You drank it so well, did such a good job."
Jisung whimpers helplessly, thrusting up against Jaemin's cock as well as he can. Jaemin keeps slipping filth into his ears as they both near their climax.
"I wonder what Jeno-hyung would think of you, watching you gulp down my piss, the way it makes your fat cock try to burst out of your underwear. Do you think he'd like it, Jisungie? Hm, our sweet little thing?"
His voice is getting more and more breathless, but he doesn't stop. Jisung's so close to blowing his load all over Jaemin that he can almost taste it.
"You'd let Jeno-hyung fill that pretty mouth of yours with his piss, too, wouldn't you? I think you'd beg for it, Sung, I really do."
That's all it takes. Jisung's moans climb to a yell, and he comes in gut-wrenching waves, come spurting on their cocks and on Jaemin's bare torso in pearly-white pulses.
"Oh fuck, baby, look at you," is the last thing Jaemin says before he's done for, too, getting thick come all over Jisung and their hands.
He idly scoops up both of their releases with his fingers, and licks each digit clean, making sure Jisung watches. Finally satisfied, he flops down next to Jisung, half on him and half on the comforter.
They hold hands while they catch their breath.
"Hyung..." Jisung starts, shyly, "do you actually think Jeno-hyung would, you know..."
Jaemin pinches his cheek, laughing mischievously.
"Maybe you should ask him, Jisungie! My lips are sealed."