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It’s been an exhausting day shooting Chenji This and That and Chenle is hungry. He doesn’t feel like eating in public so he asks Jisung to come over and stay the night at Chenle’s place since they don’t really have an early schedule the next day anyway. Jisung is reluctant at first, he doesn’t want to sleep on the couch and ends up with a sore back. But Chenle knows if he gives his cutest pout, Jisung’s defense will crumble. And he’s right.
They end up on Chenle's couch, just lounging and watching Friends for the hundredth time while waiting for the food to come. Chenle leans on Jisung’s shoulder for comfort, for his comfort anyway. If Jisung is uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it, so Chenle settles in and puts his whole weight on Jisung’s body. He feels Jisung weakly giggling from time to time so he doesn’t feel that bad for forcing him to watch yet another episode they’ve watched a million times before.
His eyelids start to close when he feels Jisung smelling his hair. No, Jisung is kissing his hair? Maybe both. He wonders if Jisung has been doing it the entire time and he just realizes it now. He contemplates letting it go but he kind of wants to see Jisung's flushed face when he confronts him, so he does. “What are you doing?” He twists his neck and looks up to Jisung, asking teasingly.
Instead of panicking, Jisung retorts quickly. “What are you doing?” He asks, gesturing downwards with his head. Chenle is confused, eyes following Jisung’s gaze to find his hand, his own hand, gripping Jisung’s thigh for dear life. What the fuck? How long has he been groping Jisung’s thigh? He admits that these days, he has been thinking of how taut Jisung’s thigh muscles are. However, he can’t believe he actually acts on it. Unconsciously, even.
He can’t babble around and panic, it’s Jisung’s thing. So he double downs, deciding on not taking his hand off of Jisung and continuing to run his hand up and down the thigh instead. He’s confident. He’s bold. He’s Chenle, for god’s sake. “Well? You’re not complaining.” He forces himself to look at Jisung’s face again. This time, he’s greeted with the pink of Jisung’s cheeks. There it is, that’s what he’s wanted to see.
Jisung seems to be out of words already, as expected. Chenle grins cockily at him, confidence bubbling up in his chest. If Haechan was here, he would be proud of Chenle. It’s not like he’s been teaching Chenle how to tease people or anything. He just always wonders how much fun Haechan gets from teasing boys and he kind of gets it now why it is a little addicting.
He doesn’t notice how Jisung has been fixating his gaze on Chenle’s lips and by the time he realizes, Jisung’s already a breath away from him. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Jisung’s lips are already on him, pressing slightly, uncertain with his movements. He feels Jisung’s insecurity radiating from his body so Chenle doesn’t let himself be shocked for too long and squeezes Jisung’s thigh for assurance.
After sliding their lips against each other nervously for a while, Chenle decides this doesn’t cut it. He lifts himself off the couch and into Jisung’s lap, hands settling on Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung looks off balance and apprehensive, so Chenle brazenly kisses him, eagerly this time. His tongue starts licking Jisung’s lips and Jisung finally lets go, lets him in and tries his best to match Chenle’s energy.
Chenle’s hands are everywhere. In Jisung’s hair, on Jisung’s chest, in Jisung’s shirt, and finally settling there. He feels Jisung’s abs muscle, mapping out each one painstakingly slowly, trying to elicit deep sighs and low moans from Jisung. He loves to hear it, Jisung does have the best voice.
When he runs out of abs to trace, he moves upwards to Jisung’s nipple. Chenle doesn’t want to feel too prideful, his ego is already too big for his own good, but it’s already hard. He pinches it slightly and Jisung makes a high pitched noise. He breaks the kiss and laughs, burying his face in Jisung’s shoulder while Jisung hits his back, a little offended, but mostly mortified.
He’s shifting in Jisung’s lap, about to look at Jisung and imitate his high pitch noises to mock him when he feels Jisung’s dick already hard as well, pressing on his ass. Jisung must’ve realized that too because he’s now quiet, hands stiff on Chenle’s back. Chenle rocks backwards in his lap a little, just to see how he will react, and Jisung moans helplessly. Well. He then looks at Jisung’s eyes and deliberately rocks in Jisung’s laps now and Jisung bites his lips, trying not to let out another one. He pulls the collar of Chenle's shirt and tries to distract him from looking at his shy face when-
“Excuse me. Delivery.” His bell rings and there’s a knock on the door. He has forgotten he ordered food half an hour ago and how hungry he has been the whole time. All he wants to eat now is, well, Jisung. Jisung’s hard defined abs, rock hard thighs, hard nipples, hard.. everything. Chenle feels dizzy.
Another knock on the door and Chenle finally snaps out of it. “Don’t move.” He whispers. Jisung nods. He walks quickly to the front door, checks if the tent in his pants is visible and if his hair and shirt is presentable enough, and opens the door. He quickly gets the pizza and closes the door on the poor delivery man. He feels so bad but he will tip the man double the next time he orders from the place, if ever again.
He drops the pizza box by the door, like the insane horny teenager that he is, and tries not to run back to the living room and jump into Jisung’s lap. He stops in his tracks when he sees Jisung on his couch. Hair disheveled, shirt almost completely off, eyes trained on the ceiling, dick strained in his jeans. Jisung really didn’t move an inch since Chenle got out of his lap. Such an obedient boy. He looks beautiful like this. So messy, so gorgeous, so unlike the cute clumsy Jisung that he usually presents himself in front of people.
Jisung eventually notices him standing there, staring at him. Chenle offers him a smile while slowly approaching him. It’s just like Jisung to need continuous reassurance, and Chenle actually doesn’t have any problem giving Jisung comfort when he needs it.
He stands in front of Jisung, shins touching Jisung’s knees. Nudging him so he can pry Jisung’s legs open, and Jisung complies. “Take off your pants.” He says, eyes still staring intently at Jisung’s thighs. All those times Jisung spent being in the gym pays off really well. How is it that all the junk food he ate went to his thighs?
Now that the pants are off, Chenle can see the muscle definition under Jisung’s slightly tanned skin. He swallows his saliva and gets down on his knees. Eyes on the prize, his lips make a beeline to Jisung’s inner thigh. He feels Jisung being tense under his kisses, so he runs his fingers down the other thigh, trying to soothe Jisung. Jisung’s heart is probably going hundreds of miles per hour right now. But as much as he wants to feel Jisung’s heartbeat, he can’t stop obsessing over his thighs.
He feels Jisung’s hand moving, touching his own dick in desperation, and Chenle stops him without looking away from Jisung’s thigh. He takes Jisung’s hand in his, slotting their fingers together, and drags it away from the crotch. “I’ll get to that in a minute.” Chenle promises before getting back to suck Jisung’s thigh with obscenely loud sounds.
Jisung’s breath hitches when he bites too hard, lost in excitement and lust. He forgets how sharp his canines can be sometimes. He licks the reddening skin liberally, trying to dull the pain, and Jisung finally calls him out on it. “What’s with you and my thighs?” If Netflix was still running in the background, he couldn’t have heard it for Jisung’s voice is too gentle. He’s not offended or even teasing, just genuinely curious about Chenle’s sudden infatuation with his thighs.
When Chenle finally lets his eyes off of the thighs to reply Jisung with some stupid banter, his eyes fall to Jisung’s wet grey boxer brief instead. The bulge has gotten bigger and wetter from the last time Chenle saw it... before he got on the floor that is. He lightly touches the wetness on Jisung’s boxer brief with the hand that’s not holding Jisung’s. “What’s with you and me and your thighs?” Terrible comeback, but he knows Jisung is too out of it to respond with a snarky one. “You hate it?” He taunts, gaping at Jisung from below with his fingers tracing the side of Jisung’s dick over the damp fabric.
Jisung covers his face with his free hand and groans. “Zhong Chenle.. You..” It’s always a victory for Chenle every time he reduces Jisung to speechlessness, only capable to say Chenle's full name and nothing else. Chenle takes Jisung’s hand in his and starts kissing it too. His big hand, long fingers, Chenle wonders if he can make it his next venture. But he’s ahead of himself.
He glances upwards at Jisung’s desperate face, needing that last push, before he tugs down Jisung’s waistband carefully.
It shouldn’t be a surprise to Chenle that everything about Jisung is big. And hard. Yet, he still gasps loudly, shamelessly, in a way that makes Jisung giggle a little. He hopes he didn’t say sexy in Jaemin’s voice although he thinks it’s too late to play coy now. His mouth is too close to Jisung’s dick to pretend he’s sheepish. If anything, he’s wolf-ish.
“Chenle, please..” Jisung’s desperate plea alerts him. He’s been salivating over Jisung’s dick and not doing anything about it and the precum has been leaking. He cautiously gives it a tentative lick, eliciting a choked sob from Jisung that convinces him to do more. He lubes Jisung’s dick with the precum, jacking off the length while he starts sucking on the head with a surprisingly coordinated pace. Maybe all the years of playing the piano while singing is all just practice for sucking dick while giving a hand job. That should be it. Mozart is a catboy, of course he’s f ucking gay.
He feels a hand caressing his head and he looks up. Jisung’s brows are furrowed and there are beads of sweat running down his face, but his eyes are so fond. It’s ridiculous that this is the moment that makes Chenle physically feel the heat in his face. He doesn’t even usually notice it when he blushes because he just has naturally pink cheeks. Right now, though, he has no doubt that his whole face is crimson red, his pale skin be damned. “Don’t look at me like that.” He wants to say, but it’s all muffled from the dick in his mouth. Jisung cracks at how ridiculous the whole thing is with his unbelievably still affectionate gaze.
Chenle stops sucking but starts talking with Jisung’s dick still in his mouth anyway, his own saliva mixed with precum making his chin glisten. “You’re annoying. Take off your shirt.” Still snickering, Jisung obeys and whispers “you’re cute” under his breath. Jisung really is annoying.
“Do you want to see my abs while..” Jisung throws his shirt on the floor and attempts to banter but he can’t even finish his sentence before stuttering and making himself blush. He really can’t help but be adorable, it’s driving Chenle crazy. He says “yes” before going at it now, no longer being considerate.
He looks up at Jisung’s abs, taking Jisung’s length even further, while his hand is still circling the base of Jisung’s dick. Jisung, too, doesn’t have it in him to repress his sounds now. His moans get louder, raunchier, and his hands are clutching the fabric on Chenle’s shoulder tightly for purchase. The shirt will stretch for sure but that’s the least of Chenle’s concerns right now.
He gags and takes Jisung’s dick out of his mouth but his hands are all over it, thumbing on the slit, tugging and jerking at a quickening pace. Jisung looks restless and Chenle knows he’s on the edge. When Chenle bites the bruises that he made on Jisung’s thigh previously, Jisung yanks at Chenle’s hair and comes with a low groan.
Chenle tries to reach the tissue on his coffee table to wipe Jisung’s cum off of his face, his hair, and Jisung’s stomach. Jisung is out of breath and he’s kind of panting too, just from how much his heart thumps in his chest. He just made Jisung come. Even better (or worse?), he made Jisung come from biting on his thigh. That’s probably his biggest achievement in life by far. Not even singing in the Golden Hall of Vienna gave him this much euphoria.
He stands up and quickly throws the spoiled tissue in the trash but he comes back to find Jisung sniffling. “Wow, what’s going on?” Did he accidentally say something mean without realizing? He could’ve done that in his horned up state of mind. Not that he’s already out of that state at this point.
He tries to level with Jisung’s eyes and wipes off the tear with his thumb. Jisung slowly calms down and leans to the touch, hand reaching for Chenle’s to anchor himself. He looks at Chenle before closing his eyes. “I don’t want us to be awkward after this.” He winces, like it’s such an embarrassing thing to say.
“I mean, it’s kinda awkward..” Jisung opens his eyes quickly and almost retracts his hand from Chenle’s before Chenle continues, “..that I’m still fully clothed and you haven’t touched me one bit when you’re already naked and relieved. ” Chenle smirks when he emphasizes the word with a nasty tone. He’s making a thing of trying to sit in Jisung’s lap and Jisung chuckles in disbelief, unable to stop the smile growing in his face. Chenle takes Jisung’s face in his hand and kisses the smile tenderly, as if he didn’t just use the same mouth to viciously destroy Jisung’s thighs earlier. “Don’t think I’m done with your thighs, big boy.” He cringes as soon as the words come out of his mouth, but Jisung’s relieved cackle kinda makes up for it.
Jisung runs his hands softly on Chenle’s back again, and Chenle feels the burden in Jisung’s heart has been lifted. “Please, the stylists make me wear shorts a lot these days.” Jisung begs in his signature image police tone of his. Chenle purses his lips to fake anger and Jisung can’t help but kisses him again. He’s so easy, Chenle thinks, so weak for him. Jisung rubs on Chenle’s stomach and he suddenly breaks off the kiss. “Wait, you were hungry. Should we eat now?” He asks, concerned, and Chenle feels the warmth in his chest expanding endlessly.
“Maybe later.” After I get your big hands all over my dick, Chenle implies. “Unless you want to eat my fart?”
Jisung hits Chenle’s chest and calls Chenle gross, threatening to throw the pizza out the window before Chenle hurriedly tugs his hands and drags him to his bedroom.