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To be completely honest, Junmyeon wasn't even sure where he stood with Baekhyun. He wasn't sure what they were, exactly. But Baekhyun had looked at their intertwined hands on one morning coffee run in some foreign country and frowned, and said "hyung, you're not doing this with anyone else, aren't you?"
And Junmyeon had been caught so off guard that he'd nodded, and blushed (and hated himself for blushing). And Baekhyun had smiled afterwards, grinned so wide his eyes disappeared into crescents, and that had beaten all mortifications of possibly getting into an arrangement he was too scared to think about.
It helped that their favorite combined pastimes, as two healthy men in their late twenties should have, is fucking the brains out of each other.
“Wait–Baekhyun-ah–” Junmyeon pants, bracing himself against the cool glass of the practice room. His breath fogs the surface, and it’s embarrassing to have to see his face so up close.
Baekhyun hums, pressing the hard head of his cock against the wet furl of Junmyeon’s asshole and Junmyeon is lost , thunking his head against the glass.
“Don’t you want this, hyung?” Baekhyun murmurs, voice pitched low against the shell of Junmyeon’s ear. He’s pressing insistently, now, and he’s about to breach Junmyeon any second now and Junmyeon doesn’t want to wait anymore.
So Junmyeon widens his stance to take Baekhyun better. Baekhyun groans, breath puffing hot and damp against Junmyeon’s skin. Junmyeon feels so turned on he might die, his cock twitching and spitting out a glob of precum underneath him.
“Please,” he whimpers meekly, jutting his ass out, fuck whatever he was thinking about–yeah, fuck that, “please, Baekhyun-ah.”
So there was that. And between the fucking and the infinite coffee runs and the Baekhyun spending his nights in Junmyeon’s bed, holding Junmyeon’s hand while he sleeps, it’s no wonder that Junmyeon ends up here after his vacation, ass up on Baekhyun’s bed in Baekhyun’s new apartment getting railed.
“Oh god,” Baekhyun groans from behind him, as if he’s the one who can’t bear it. Like Junmyeon isn’t the one getting fucked hard and deep, his prostate knocked against over and over again, sending delicious sparks up his spine, his cock swinging heavy and hard between his thighs.
Junmyeon whimpers in response, stuffing his face onto the bedding and digging his fists onto the sheets. He’s been letting out a stream of embarrassingly slutty noises for a while now, and he can’t even mind, not when Baekhyun is reaming him so perfectly , his dick trying to imprint itself inside Junmyeon’s asshole.
Junmyeon thought it was a good idea to drop by. He’d just gotten back from France and well, Baekhyun just dropped a new album and he’d wanted to celebrate. So he brought wine, and told Baekhyun over text that he was coming over.
But wine lowers Baekhyun’s inhibitions, and instead of savoring it like Junmyeon wanted him to, Baekhyun decided to savor him instead. He’d pushed Junmyeon onto the couch and stuffed his hands down Junmyeon’s pants and Junmyeon had two revelations that night. One is that Baekhyun and wine makes a very happy Junmyeon, second is that he’s weak against Baekhyun and his hands and his mouth.
They lay on top of Baekhyun’s bed afterwards (no frames–yuck), panting, trying to catch their breaths.
“Wasn’t–” Junmyeon tries, “wasn’t supposed to happen like this. We were supposed to celebrate.”
“We are celebrating,” Baekhyun says, “and we’re christening the house. At the same time.”
“By having wine.” Junmyeon argues. “Not like this.”
“Why not like this?” Baekhyun retorts. “Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“I did,” immensely, “but why.” the did you fuck me came unsaid, but Baekhyun hears it anyways.
"You brought me wine," Baekhyun whines, "and you texted me."
"And?" Junmyeon asks.
But Baekhyun simply grumbles, slinging a possessive arm across Junmyeon's stomach and settles for a nap. And that was that.
There was a confounding factor in there somewhere, that–well, confounded Junmyeon. First was that they’ve been at this for quite some time now, and second was how easily he folds under Baekhyun’s demands. Even the most ridiculous ones. Mumblings of the cold weather would result in Junmyeon plopping one of his expensive (and beloved) cashmere sweaters over Baekhyun’s head, and whinings about sore muscles would result in Junmyeon kneading the tension out of Baekhyun’s shoulders while Baekhyun sighed contently underneath him.
Baekhyun had remarked idly, one busy practice afternoon, how nice Junmyeon’s new sneakers were, and Junmyeon had blurted out, out of a misplaced sense to want to please , if Baekhyun wanted it. They’d both looked at each other with wide eyes after that, and flushed deeply, averted their gazes, and not spoken about it ever again.
It was so easy, to submit to the feeling of wanting to please , of wanting to see the bright, sunshine-y grin break over Baekhyun’s face, the one that turned his mouth square and pushed his eyes into crescents. The very same one that sparked warmth in Junmyeon’s stomach, buttery and melting. Junmyeon felt so helpless against it, against Baekhyun’s warm, curious fingers wrapping around his wrist, tugging him along. Junmyeon was just a leaf in the wind, being blown whichever direction it wanted to go.
Junmyeon’s soft spot for Baekhyun was so apparent, that when he pulled Junmyeon aside when they were recording one day, and whispered roughly wanna fuck your mouth hyung in his ear. Junmyeon only shivered, and nodded. And the next thing Junmyeon knew, he was on his knees inside one of the empty, locked booths, Baekhyun driving his cock down into Junmyeon's throat again and again, Junmyeon fisting his own cock, hard and dripping precum steadily from the slit, again, so turned on he felt like he was going to die.
Junmyeon looked up through wet, clumped lashes, and Baekhyun cursed up a storm.
"Fuck," Baekhyun groaned, eyes screwed shut, his fists buried into Junmyeon's hair. Again like he was the one getting ruined here. "God, you look so good, your mouth is so fucking perfect, feels so fucking good– " and he was coming with a low moan, hips stuttering and balls slapping against Junmyeon's chin, his bitter, salty semen sliding down Junmyeon's throat, doubling over.
Junmyeon didn't even mind that he didn't give any warning. It was so hot that Junmyeon came to the feeling of Baekhyun's cum spurting onto his tongue, Baekhyun's cock throbbing hot and twitching against it.
Then Baekhyun had pulled him up and kissed him, and fussed over his dirty hand and the crumpled state of his expensive designer pants. Junmyeon didn’t even care, too doped up on endorphins and whatever cologne it was that Baekhyun liked to wear, stuffing his face against Baekhyun’s neck as they cuddled on the empty sofa there.
“You smell nice,” Junmyeon mumbled, Baekhyun had cleaned his hand so Junmyeon could twist his fingers into Baekhyun’s very expensive and very tacky sweatshirt, legs slung over Baekhyun’s lap. They were haphazardly piled on the couch, sitting up. “What perfume do you use? I like it.”
Baekhyun had chuckled roughly, the vibrations travelling through Junmyeon, making Junmyeon shiver, and he’d hummed and pressed his lips against Junmyeon’s hair. Junmyeon sighed. That was nice. Junmyeon felt warm all over.
“I’m not wearing perfume right now.”
“Mm. No?” Junmyeon mumbled, he was too sleepy to care. Orgasms made him sleepy. Especially nice orgasms inside weird places with Baekhyun.
Fingers went through his hair, the nails scratching his scalp pleasantly. Junmyeon sighed, and closed his eyes, melting against Baekhyun.
Baekhyun was quickly becoming a habit, one that gets harder by the second to quit.
“Wait, I don’t get it,” Sehun says, after Junmyeon’s lengthy explanation about confounding factors and being confounded. “What are you confused about, exactly?”
Junmyeon frowns. “Weren’t you listening?”
“I was, but you weren’t exactly explaining anything. You were gushing, more like.”
Junmyeon is deeply offended by that. “I was not gushing.”
“No, hyung, seriously,” he said, sipping on his latte. It’s probably got more sugar in it than what Junmyeon has in a year. “You two are exclusively seeing each other now, I don’t see what’s confusing about that.”
And that has Junmyeon quieting. What is he confused about, exactly? Everything is so confusing.
Sehun leans back on his chair across from Junmyeon, scrolling through his phone. He’s lost Sehun’s interest, now, Junmyeon can tell.
“Do you think I can get Kyungsoo hyung to come over?” Sehun asks.
“Depends,” Junmyeon answers.
“On?”
“Whether you can give him a good enough reason to or not.”
No but the thing is, Sehun made it sound like Junmyeon and Baekhyun were doing what those other idols were doing. Where they were meeting each other with good feelings and all that. Junmyeon is sure it was more than good feelings that they had. He wasn’t even sure what good feelings were. Is that the one where he felt like melting every time Baekhyun fucked him, or the one where he felt like leaning against Baekhyun and kissing him square on the mouth whenever Baekhyun held his hand? The phrase was too vague, surely unlike Junmyeon and Baekhyun.
But Junmyeon was too chicken to bring it up. Asking for a clarification about their status seemed juvenile compared to what they’ve all been through, and so their little arrangement continued well into the new year, where Baekhyun crowded him against the wall of his own bedroom after the concert, and kissed him silly.
"You're so hot, Junmyeon," Baekhyun exhales lowly, he’s so close Junmyeon is getting cross-eyed looking at him. Baekhyun stares at him with a heavy, hooded gaze, his bottom lip caught under his teeth, and Junmyeon feels his insides bloom up a flower. "Every part of you turns me on."
And Junmyeon had been mopey before, during and directly after the concert, but he’s not mopey anymore, not when Baekhyun is leaving soft, gentle kisses down his throat, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the buttons of Junmyeon’s jeans.
And whatever apprehension Junmyeon had about the new year and enlisting was gone by the time Baekhyun sheathed his cock fully inside Junmyeon’s asshole. He’s groaning, rocking forward, taking his time, the muscles of his stomach flexing with every languid stroke, his eyebrows cinched together, and Junmyeon has never seen a sight hotter than that.
But oh, it is mopey, too, Baekhyun bending down and hiding his face on the crook of Junmyeon’s neck as rolls his hips, pulling and pushing his cock along the tight squeeze of Junmyeon’s asshole.
Junmyeon wraps his legs around the taper of Baekhyun’s waist and his arms around the breadth of Baekhyun’s shoulders. Baekhyun keeps nosing his neck, kissing the skin there, murmuring words of praise and that fills Junmyeon’s chest near bursting. He hiccups once, twice, in tune to the fucking, sniffling a little. Everything is too warm and too much, and holding Baekhyun close feels like an open confession, like cracking open his ribcage and bleeding his heart dry–only Baekhyun bled first, and he’s just showing Junmyeon how.
“I love you, Junmyeon,” Baekhyun whispers huskily, and that has Junmyeon cumming, shivering and moaning high in his throat, pulling Baekhyun closer.
Junmyeon doesn’t let go, not when he feels like crying again, not until Baekhyun is pressing kisses all over his face, asking him if he’s alright.
Junmyeon stares at Baekhyun with a pout, with tears in his eyes, and Baekhyun grins. The one that means Junmyeon was being overbearingly amusing and Junmyeon didn’t understand why. Baekhyun couldn’t just pull his love out of his pocket and shower Junmyeon with it and expected Junmyeon to fare well.
“Alright, princess?” Baekhyun teases.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Junmyeon croaks out, and unwinds his arms from where they’re keeping Baekhyun trapped to himself.
Baekhyun is so sweet, afterwards, cleaning Junmyeon gently. And Junmyeon doesn’t know how he never notices how sweet Baekhyun always is after they fuck. Baekhyun flops over to his side when he’s done, pressing close and stuffing his face onto Junmyeon’s arm, pulling the blanket up. He makes noises, like a puppy, and Junmyeon is thoroughly endeared.
“Baekhyun-ah,” he starts, his unoccupied hand reaches across to card the hairs at the back of Baekhyun’s head. He braves himself, and feels silly for it, because this is just Baekhyun. Baekhyun who has moved half of his wardrobe inside Junmyeon’s closet and has stolen two of Junmyeon’s expensive pants (a beige one and a green one, they were both cargo, Junmyeon understood).
“Hmm?” Baekhyun hums.
“Have we been dating?”
The entirety of Baekhyun freezes over, and Baekhyun looks up at him with wide, horrified eyes.
“Yes?” Baekhyun says. “I mean, I thought you knew–I just assumed–I should’ve–”
Junmyeon cuts him off with a kiss, sliding enough tongue into it to get Baekhyun sighing contently, dazed when Junmyeon pulls away. Baekhyun smacks his own lips afterwards, staring at Junmyeon’s, as if wishing for another kiss, so Junmyeon gives him another.
“We’ve been dating,” Junmyeon states, pressing another kiss. “Good. I love you. I should have asked sooner. I’m sorry.”
Baekhyun chokes on nothing, and then he’s snorting, and then he’s laughing, loudly, resting his forehead against Junmyeon’s arm again.
“God,” Baekhyun half-groans, half-laughs, his whole body shaking with it. He grasps Junmyeon’s forearm with both hands, squeezing. “This is horrible . I knew you were kind of slow but I never thought that it was this bad.”
“Hey,” Junmyeon says, making a noise of disagreement, cheeks warming. He has to admit it was a little bit ridiculous. But Baekhyun didn’t have to be mean about it. “Don’t say that about your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend,” Baekhyun murmurs softly, looking into Junmyeon’s eyes. Junmyeon feels himself flushing at the attention, at the way Baekhyun stares up at him with a lopsided, dopey grin, strands of his newly dyed blue hair falling into his eyes. His gaze is full of blatant adoration now that Junmyeon knows to look for it. Junmyeon will always look for it, from now on. “Sorry, boyfriend,” he chuckles.
Junmyeon purses his lips, and that only gives Baekhyun implicit permission to kiss him again, as Baekhyun is wont to do during lapses of silence.
“Sorry?” Baekhyun says again. Another kiss. “Sorry, love,” Baekhyun murmurs.
And wow that makes warmth bloom at the base of Junmyeon’s stomach, gets him giddy and excited and happy. So that’s what the tingling on the tips of his fingers meant. Junmyeon should have known.
“It’s alright,” Junmyeon concedes, he presses a kiss on Baekhyun’s lips again, a hand going up to cradle the jut of Baekhyun’s jaw. There wasn’t going to be any confounding going on now. Junmyeon has his answers. He giggles, pressing his smile against Baekhyun’s mouth. Happy, happy, happy. Happiness sounds like Baekhyun humming inside his head. “Boyfriend.”
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