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Jungsu doesn’t consider himself a jealous person. Not when it comes to his boyfriend. He doesn’t care if Jiseok is cuddling up to Hyeongjun, holding Jooyeon’s hand, sleeping in Seungmin’s bed after a long day. He even actively encourages the other members to kiss Jiseok’s cheeks, forehead, nose, when they’re filming a punishment on a variety show (he uses the word punishment lightly, because getting kissed is in no world a punishment for Jiseok). Because hell, who wouldn’t want to kiss Kwak Jiseok.
So why, when Jiseok lifts his arms and his crop top rises to expose the soft skin of his stomach and his pretty little waist in front of the entire room of fans, does it set a fire kindling in the pit of his stomach that has him sitting uncomfortably cross legged for the rest of the fansign so no one can see the rise in his pants?
It’s something in the way he doesn’t realise he’s done it until the fans scream, in the way he reacts by lifting his shirt again to run his hand over his stomach, his jeans sitting so low on his hips Jungsu can see the little v dipping down. The dusting of pink eyeshadow under his eyes. It’s the way he’s done it in front of the whole room, and doesn’t even care. Seems pleased with himself, actually, judging by the little grin he gives the cameras, fluttering his eyelashes.
He looks so good. Jungsu feels like he needs to send their stylists a fruit basket or something. He's sickeningly in love and insanely turned on.
Oh, the fans are going to go crazy for this when the photos are released. Jungsu is going crazy for this right now. He can’t peel his eyes off Jiseok for the rest of the day, and Jiseok knows it. The little shit knows it, because every time Jungsu looks at him, Jiseok stretches a little, lifts his arms, each time blessing him with a tiny sliver of his pale skin. It’s driving him insane. As the fans are leaving, he turns to Jungsu and winks, tongue poking from the corner of his lips.
Fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
&&&.
Thank god they’re surrounded by staff while they’re getting ready to go home, or Jungsu would have shoved Jiseok into a wall and kissed him until his lips were red and bruised. He’s hanging on by a thread of self control right now, holds himself back even when watching Jiseok slide the crop top over his head, catching a glimpse of his bare chest before it’s replaced with a plain white tee. He really, really wishes they could take the stage outfits back home with them. Unfortunately, he watches in utter devastation as the crop top gets neatly folded and packed away into a staff member’s case. Rest in peace, his dreams of fucking Jiseok stupid in it.
He does manage a sneaky hand on Jiseok’s waist while no one is looking, standing behind him and slipping his fingers under his shirt and dancing them teasingly over his stomach. It looks like a simple show of affection, akin to the gestures they always do. An arm over the shoulders, a back hug for a photo, arm slung loosely around a fellow member’s waist.
Jiseok shivers and leans back ever so slightly into Jungsu’s chest, humming at the contact.
He has no idea what Jungsu has in store for him later.
&&&.
Jungsu corners him as he’s getting ready for bed. He quite literally catches Jiseok with his pants down and ass in the air, bending down to slide his sweatpants over his legs. He tugs them off and turns to Jungsu in just his boxers and oversized white shirt and that little thread in Jungsu finally snaps. He’s so glad Gunil agreed to swap rooms with Jiseok for the night.
“Ready for be--” Jiseok manages to get out before Jungsu is crowding him against the door. Jiseok lets out a soft ‘oof’ as his back hits the door. Jungsu’s arms bracket each side of his head and it’s times like these that he’s thankful for the several inches he has on Jiseok because he’s looking up at him through his long lashes with his lips slightly parted in surprise and he looks unbelievably pretty.
“Did you really think you could get away with flashing the whole fansign like that?” Jungsu asks, pressing his body close to Jiseok’s smaller frame.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jiseok answers, feigning innocence, fluttering his eyelashes. He can’t fool Jungsu. Not when the corner of his lips are twitching into a smile that he’s obviously trying to hide by biting his bottom lip. He thinks it’s funny.
“No?” Jungsu lowers one of his arms from beside Jiseok’s head down to his waist, slipping under his shirt and settling on his bare skin. “You don’t remember showing off your pretty little waist to everyone?”
“Oh, that,” he says nonchalantly as though it’s something he does every day. “You know it was an accident. Forgot my shirt was so short.” He shrugs, arms snaking round Jungsu’s neck, stretching on the tips of his toes to reach. He’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes that Jungsu knows means trouble. “Why? Jealous?”
“Jealous?” Jungsu’s thumb slips down into the waistband of Jiseok’s underwear, toying with the elastic. He tugs his hips forward until they’re pressed flush against each other. “I’m more interested in the way you seemed to enjoy it so much. Liked showing yourself off like that?”
Jiseok hums. “Maybe I like feeling pretty? You saw how everyone reacted.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Jungsu’s lips, pulls back, breath ghosting over his lips. He bites back a cheeky grin. “Didn’t you think so?”
Jiseok is pretty. Insanely so. He’s pretty, adorable, beautiful, gorgeous and absolutely everything to Jungsu. He’s made it a habit to remind him every day, and he loves the way it has Jiseok blushing every single time, tips of his ears turning red. It’s cute that he’s so confident and yet so shy. Just one of the many, many things Jungsu loves about him.
“You are pretty,” Jungsu agrees by leaning down and capturing Jiseok’s lips again. They’re soft and pliant underneath his and Jiseok wraps his arms tighter around his neck to pull him in deeper.
“You say that all the time,” Jiseok quips when they break away for air. Jungsu presses kisses along his jaw, trailing down his neck and nipping lightly at his exposed collarbone. Jiseok tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut and chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“Maybe. But it’s true, and you need to hear it more often. My pretty princess.” He doesn’t miss the way the nickname has Jiseok keening, cheeks flushed, hot. The hitch in his breathing. He dives in for another kiss. Their lips slide together easily, lazily. Jiseok tastes sweet, but interlaced with something deeper, a hunger.
Jungsu moves his thigh between Jiseok’s legs, making him gasp, and Jungsu takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between his lips. Jiseok fists his fingers in the long strands of hair at the base of Jungsu’s neck, tugging slightly, sending sparks shooting down his spine. He presses his thigh firmly into Jiseok’s groin, who groans and grinds his hips down over and over. He’s already hard.
Fuck, Jiseok is so hot. So cute when he’s needy.
He could easily give Jiseok everything he wants, right now, bring him to his high and sweet release. He usually does, wanting nothing more than to make Jiseok feel good. Unlucky for Jiseok, that’s not what Jungsu has planned for him tonight. No, he can’t get distracted, no matter how many pretty sighs slip from Jiseok’s lips at every roll of his hips.
He gives Jiseok one last deep, intense kiss before he’s drawing back, hand gripping his waist bruisingly hard to stop the younger boy from rolling his hips again. Jiseok whines and tries to tug Jungsu back by the fists in his hair, but Jungsu uses his other hand to remove Jiseok’s grip, catching both his wrists in his hand and holding them firmly.
“I told you, I’m not letting you get away with it that easily,” Jungsu says, tightening the hold he has on his wrists when Jiseok tries to shake free.
Jiseok huffs and drops his head back against the door, tipping his face slightly to the side and angling it perfectly so Jungsu gets a clear view of the side of his neck, down to where his shirt hangs loosely around his collarbones. Again, he knows exactly what he’s doing. It would work, usually, but Jungsu isn’t done teasing him yet.
“You could, though,” Jiseok says, blinking up at him, lips red and swollen, eyes heavy-lidded. “You could just fuck me now, against the wall.” He moves his wrists, still captured by Jungsu’s hands and attempts to palm at the bulge in Jungsu’s jeans. “C’mon, you know you want to.
He does, he really does. Wants to hoist Jiseok up into his arms, wrap his legs around his waist and pound him into the wall relentlessly. His dick twitches in his jeans against Jiseok’s palm. God, he both hates and loves the effect he has on him. Jiseok almost wins him over. He tightens his hold on his wrists and pulls his hand away from his crotch, though he misses the feeling. It isn’t about him right now.
Jungsu moves the hand he has on Jiseok’s waist and playfully swats a hand on his ass. “You’re such a little brat sometimes.”
“Mmm, harder,” Jiseok presses his ass back into Jungsu’s hand, wiggles his hips comically, looking at him with that mischievous glint again. Jungsu can’t help the laugh that bursts from his lips. He gives him another light slap for good measure, pinching the spot where the soft flesh of his ass meets his thighs.
“You’re a menace.”
“Your menace. And you love it~” He’s right, Jungsu does love it. Loves Jiseok, unbelievably so. Bratiness and all. “Now, are you going to fuck me or what?”
“So demanding.” He lets go of Jiseok completely, taking a step back, folds his arms across his chest, much to Jiseok’s displeasure. The younger boy huffs and rolls his eyes. Jungsu laughs. “Why should I? Do you deserve it?”
“Uh, because I’m your favourite person in the entire world? And you love my ass?”
True, on both accounts.
“I’ll think about it,” Jungsu responds, feigning disinterest, as if Jiseok’s ass is the last thing on his mind (spoiler alert: it’s not). “Maybe you’ll think twice about flaunting yourself in front of everybody next time.”
He steps forward again, presses chaste kisses on Jiseok’s lips and down the side of his throat, hovering over the spot he knows Jiseok loves being bitten. He scrapes his teeth tormentingly over the skin, but doesn’t quite bite down. Then, he slides his palm under the front of his shirt, fingernails scraping lightly over the skin of his stomach and up his chest. He withdraws just as he reaches the base of Jiseok’s throat dragging his palm back down agonisingly slow.
“Hyung, please…” he breathes, eyes staring at Jungsu, pupils wide with desperation. “Please stop teasing me. I need you.”
He’s so easy to mess with. So easy to get into a state.
Jungsu tugs up the front of Jiseok’s shirt until the fabric bunches under his armpits. Jiseok raises his arms so he can lift it over his head, but Jungsu stops. He holds the bottom of the shirt up to Jiseok’s lips. “Hold it.”
“What?” Jiseok looks at him, brows raised in confusion. He drops his arms.
“Hold the shirt. In your mouth. Since you’re being so mouthy today.” Jiseok scoffs indignantly, turning his face away. Jungsu slides a palm to Jiseok’s jaw, angling his head back with effortless ease, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “Go on. You liked lifting it up earlier, why not now?”
“Wasn’t on purpose, and not being mouthy,” Jiseok mumbles and rolls his eyes, but takes the cloth between his lips obediently, keeping it in place with his teeth.
Jungsu takes a few steps back to admire him, eyes raking over his body. The lines of his waist and the soft expanse of his stomach, up to his chest which rises with every breath he takes, the pink buds of his nipples peeking from under the raised shirt. His boxers sit low on his hips. Jungsu takes in the curve of his dick straining against his underwear, fully on display with the shirt out of the way. Jiseok squirms under his gaze, awkward, not sure what to do with his arms. He tries to hide himself with his hands.
“Feeling shy now?” Jungsu teases, backing up until he reaches his bed, sitting down and lounging back lazily. He drinks up the sight of Jiseok before him, admiring every inch of him, drunk on it. His plush thighs, hips, all the way up to his flushed cheeks, head turned slightly, avoiding Jungsu’s adoring eyes. Despite his discomfort, he can tell Jiseok is enjoying it, basking in the attention, turned on by it. He knows part of Jiseok loves this, showing himself off, being watched, having eyes on him.
As if it wasn’t obvious enough, there’s a wet patch on the front of his boxers where he’s already leaking precum. It turns Jungsu on painfully, knowing that Jiseok is like this because of him, just from looking at him. He could watch him like this forever. There’s something about being fully clothed while Jiseok is exposed and blushing, pretty little body on display for him to look at as he pleases.
“S…Stop staring,” Jiseok says, voice coming out as a whine behind the fabric. He looks down at his feet, bashful, bangs falling in his eyes.
Jungsu is achingly hard in his own jeans, the fabric way too tight all of a sudden, and as much as he loves teasing Jiseok, getting him all worked up like this, his patience is growing thin.
“But you’re so beautiful,” he exhales. Jiseok shakes his head, cheeks red hot. He still doesn’t meet Jungsu’s eyes, shying away from the praise. “Come here.”
Jiseok shuffles over to him, awkward, stops in between Jungsu’s knees at the edge of the bed. Jungsu smooths both hands over Jiseok’s waist, tugging him forward by the waistband of his boxers so he’s right in front of him. He runs a hand over his thighs, ghosts his thumb over the curve of Jiseok’s bulge, making him inhale sharply. His other hand goes higher, pressing into his nipple, rolling it under the pad of his thumb. Jiseok melts into the touch, putty in his hands, breathing ragged.
“Get comfy on the bed,” Jungsu says, and Jiseok stumbles to comply instantly.
While he does, Jungsu finally works on getting his jeans off. He undoes his belt, slipping it from the loops and dropping it to the floor. He fumbles with the button until it finally comes loose, pulling the zipper and shuffling the denim down over his thighs and knees, sitting back on the bed to tug the legs over his ankles. God, it feels good to be free of the constricting fabric.
He throws his jeans to the side of the room and when he turns back to the bed Jiseok is already there, staring at him, settled back against the pillows. He’s got the shirt back in his mouth without Jungsu even having to tell him and his legs spread open to make the perfect spot for him. It knocks the breath out of his lungs. Jungsu pauses, takes in the view for a few seconds because god, his boyfriend is so, so pretty. He’s perfect.
He’s interrupted from his thoughts by a whine from Jiseok that sounds suspiciously like a dog missing its owner, obviously getting impatient. Jungsu stumbles clumsily onto the bed, slots himself perfectly between Jiseok’s legs and leans over him to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “Getting lonely? You’re so good for me, my cute little puppy.” Another kiss to the corner of Jiseok’s eye.
Jiseok shifts under him, arches his back slightly, desperate. “Touch me now? Please?” It comes out muffled around the shirt stuffed in his mouth.
“What was that? Can’t hear you."
Jiseok snorts and kicks a foot at Jungsu’s chest, pushes him back before hooking both legs around Jungsu’s waist to drag him closer again. “Shut up. Just touch me.”
“Yes, princess.”
He goes straight for Jiseok’s sensitive spot, on his inner thigh, running his tongue flat along the skin there and nipping him lightly. Jiseok moans sweetly, head thrown back on the pillow. What he wouldn’t give to leave dark bruises along his thighs, but he’s wearing shorts so much lately that it’s way too dangerous to mark him. Instead, he leaves butterfly kisses as he moves higher, over his underwear, kissing the head of his cock through the already wet fabric. Jiseok gasps and bucks his hips, chasing his touch, and Jungsu has to stop him from moving with a large hand flat on his stomach. “Be patient.”
Jungsu hooks his thumbs into the sides of Jiseok’s underwear and pulls them down slowly, pressing his lips to Jiseok’s stomach, his belly button, and his waist. Jiseok raises his hips so Jungsu can tug his underwear over his ass and down his thighs, then brings his knees to his chest so he can get them off completely, now in nothing but his shirt, still clenched in his mouth. His pretty cock bobs free against his stomach, already dripping filthily. Jungsu throws the boxers on top of his jeans and places a kiss on Jiseok’s knee, a thank you for being so helpful, so compliant.
“See, you can behave.”
Jiseok scoffs and tries to say something but loses all words when Jungsu finally wraps his long fingers around the length of Jiseok’s cock, stroking him, thumbing the head which is already slick and beading with precum. A shudder runs through the entirety of Jiseok’s body and he bucks his hips, cries muffled by the shirt in his mouth. Jungsu smears precum over the rest of his cock, using it to glide his hand easily up and down in a painfully slow rhythm, every so often running his thumb over the tip in a way that has Jiseok’s eyes rolling back.
He looks so good like this. Seeing Jiseok writhing in pleasure under him is enough to have Jungsu seeing stars, dick rock solid in his own underwear. He craves touch, any sort of friction, but he can worry about that later.
Still pumping his cock with one hand, Jungsu leans over him and trails kisses up from Jiseok’s stomach to the centre of his chest, licking a long stripe up the middle. He kisses his chin, his cheeks, his nose. He kisses his forehead and once for each closed eye. It’s a little hard to aim with Jiseok squirming under him at each small touch, moans shuddering through his small body, but he makes it work.
“Feel good?” Jungsu asks, quickening his pace, breaths leaving his lips in short bursts. He sits back on his feet and pulls Jiseok closer by the hips, so he’s almost in his lap, legs spread around Jungsu’s knees. He smoothes a hand over his stomach, higher, fingernails brushing dangerously close to his nipple.
“Ah-- feels… feels good,” Jiseok pants, face scrunched in pleasure, hands fisted in the bedsheets, and Jungsu is impressed the shirt hasn’t fallen from his lips yet. “Don’t stop, please--”
“You’re being so good for me, baby, so pretty,” Jungsu praises and rolls one of his nipples between his fingers, the bud hard under his touch. He pinches, gently, in the way that he knows drives Jiseok crazy. He’s rewarded with a string of sweet moans.
“Oh, fuck--” Jiseok arches his back, trying to get closer, begging for more. His voice is still muffled. “Do that again, fuck, hyung, please--”
What Jiseok wants, Jiseok gets. Jungsu pinches him again and dips his head to capture his other nipple in his lips. He teases with his tongue and sucks lightly, but it’s enough to break Jiseok. A cry rips straight from his throat and he kicks his feet violently, hands shooting straight up to grasp at Jungsu’s hair desperately. It sends that same shock down Jungsu’s spine that has him groaning against Jiseok’s skin, and he mentally files that away for later.
His hand is wet and sticky on Jiseok’s cock. Black strands are stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyes are rolled back, eyelashes fluttering. The shirt in his mouth is wet with saliva. He looks absolutely wrecked, and he’s not even been fucked yet. Undone just from Jungsu’s touch. He’s definitely close.
He could stop now, take his hands off him, keep him from that sweet release that he’s chasing. Bring him down just to wind him back up again. But Jungsu doesn’t have it in him to deny him. As much as he loves teasing Jiseok, and as much as he wants to hear him beg for it, he’s too enamoured by the way Jiseok’s hips are snapping up to meet each stroke, and the way his chest heaves with each shaky breath drawn from his lungs as Jungsu pinches and licks and bites his nipples. The way his name falls prettily from Jiseok’s mouth even through his obstructed lips.
“Hah -- Jungsu, hyung, don’t stop--”
It makes Jungsu dizzy. If he could hear one thing for the rest of his brain, it would be Jiseok moaning his name.
Jiseok doesn’t last much longer. He comes hard into Jungsu’s hand, streaks white over his own stomach. His fists grab Jungsu’s hair so hard he swears he’s pulled out a few strands. His small body wracks with twitches, and when Jungsu pulls away to look at his face, Jiseok’s eyelids flutter open to meet his gaze, lashes wet and eyes glassy. A singular tear drips from the corner of his eye and down his cheek. He’s so fucking beautiful.
Jungsu takes the shirt gently from Jiseok’s lips, the fabric soaked, and tugs it slowly over his head and arms, careful not to hurt him.
“Holy shit,” Jiseok breathes, hands dropping limp and shaky against the bed. He squeezes his eyes shut, dislodging more pent up tears, takes a second to just breathe and calm himself down.
“Holy shit,” Jungsu mirrors, running his non-sticky hand through Jiseok’s sweaty bangs. He leans into the touch, presses his face against his hand as Jungsu cups his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, catching the loose tears. “Are you okay? That was really intense.”
“Okay?” Jiseok says, blinking up at him hazily. “I’m fucking great. That was amazing. I need to wear crop tops more often if this is what it makes you do.”
“Don’t push it,” Jungsu laughs, pinching at Jiseok’s cheek, who groans and swats his hand away. He leans his body over Jiseok’s to kiss him again. He intends it to be quick and soft, but when he tries to pull back Jiseok wraps his arms around his neck and draws him back, lips falling open to deepen the kiss.
“Missed kissing you,” Jiseok pouts when they break apart. “Since I couldn’t, because, y’know, you stuffed a shirt in my mouth.”
“And it didn’t even shut you up,” Jungsu sighs wistfully, teasing, but Jiseok responds by biting down hard on Jungsu’s bottom lip.
“You wouldn’t like it if I kept my mouth shut. I know how much you love it,” Jiseok says and pushes himself up on his elbows, looking Jungsu straight in the eyes. It’s true, but he won’t give Jiseok the satisfaction of admitting it. “Mmm, hyung, feels so good, don’t stop~” Jiseok fake moans right against his lips, and Jungsu has half a mind to stuff that shirt straight back into his mouth.
“Brat.” Jungsu snorts and pinches his nipple, the bud red and raw from his previous abuse. It draws a surprised gasp and an actual moan from Jiseok, who rolls his hips up to grind against Jungsu’s. The sudden friction makes him jolt, and he’s reminded of his own painful, throbbing hard-on. “Seriously, Jiseok? That wasn’t enough for you?”
“You know I could take you all day,” Jiseok responds, biting his own bottom lip. His eyes sink lazily over Jungsu’s body, settling on his crotch. He’s practically drooling. “Besides, don’t we need to do something about that?” He tilts his head and whispers directly into Jungsu’s ear. “You haven’t even fucked me yet.”
Oh, he’s evil. Jungsu isn’t sure if he’s the luckiest man alive, or if Jiseok is some sort of demon with an insatiable sexual appetite that’s spawned into his life just to mess with him like this. Either way, he’s too horny and Jiseok is too pretty for him to care right now.
Jiseok doesn’t give him time to think of a witty reply as he crashes their lips together with such force that it sends Jungsu’s head reeling. He all but rips Jungsu’s shirt up and over his head when they break away to breathe. He’s ignored his own arousal for so long that the first touch of Jiseok’s hand on his dick has a groan rumbling from deep in his chest.
“Fuck-- are you sure? You’re not too tired?”
“Tired? Me? Never,” Jiseok laughs, loud and bright and beautiful. “Like I said, I could take you all day, and I intend to.” His eyes follow Jungsu as he shuffles back off the bed and stands to peel his own underwear off, joining the ever growing pile of their clothes on the floor. Jiseok eyes him hungrily, eyes transfixed on Jungsu’s cock, his own already twitching against his stomach again. “God, remind me to suck you off next time. You look so fucking good.”
“That would shut you up,” Jungsu jokes, but the compliment and image of Jiseok choking on his cock has blood rushing out of his brain and straight down to his dick. He slots himself back between Jiseok’s legs, but not before fumbling for the bottle of lube he keeps stashed under the mattress. “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
Jiseok rolls his eyes, but nods. Despite his mouthiness, he knows Jiseok appreciates the care Jungsu gives him. He watches intently as Jungsu uncaps the bottle and coats his fingers liberally, rubbing the gel between his fingers to warm it up a little. Jiseok stares up at him expectantly, legs spread wide and waiting. It’s both amazing and scary how quickly he gets hard again, dick sitting flushed against his stomach.
Jungsu circles his index finger around the rim of his hole, his other hand kneading the flesh of his ass cheek, spreading him open. He presses the finger in slowly and Jiseok lets out a content sigh as he slides in to the first knuckle. He’s trying to be gentle, in case Jiseok is still overstimulated, searching his boyfriend’s face for any sign of discomfort. But Jiseok just blinks up at him, wiggling his hips to try and get him to go deeper.
“Need more, I can take it.”
Jungsu obliges, sinks his finger in all the way, then adds a second. Jiseok moans and clenches around him, head tipped back against the pillow as he starts scissoring and stretching him open. God, he feels so tight.
“You’re such an eager little puppy for me,” he says, and Jiseok nods frantically, agreeing instantly, if only to get him to move more. “You’re so tight.”
“Only for you. All for you.”
“So adorable.” Jungsu pulls his fingers out almost all the way, then thrusts them back in again with such force that it draws a strangled whine from Jiseok’s throat. He thrusts again, and again. He drives his fingers in relentlessly and Jiseok is rendered a panting, sobbing mess under him, cock slapping against his belly with each thrust. His words come out jumbled, tumbling past his lips in a mess of begging for more and telling him to go faster. His moans are intoxicating. Jungsu is lost in it. He loves making Jiseok like this, loves making him feel so good he can barely talk.
He angles his fingers, and he knows he’s hit the spot when Jiseok wails, hands tearing at the bedsheets, eyes flying open and pupils blown wide. He thrashes wildly beneath him, and Jungsu has to hold him still with a tight hand on his waist to stop him from moving.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Right there. If you stop now--”
Jungsu cuts him off by driving his fingers into that sweet spot again, fucking him open with quick, sharp movements. He watches in satisfaction as Jiseok comes completely undone under him. If he carries on like this, he’s going to come just from Jungsu’s fingers. As much as he wants to see that, if Jungsu doesn’t get his dick in him soon, he’s going to lose his mind.
He gives Jiseok one last thrust of his fingers for good measure before pulling them out completely. Jiseok whines something unintelligible at the loss, tries to wiggle his ass back into Jungsu’s hand before he sees him uncap the bottle of lube again and freezes completely.
“I need-- I need you in me. Right now. Need to feel you,” Jiseok says, voice shaky, and he already sounds so fucked-out just from having Jungsu’s fingers in his ass. There’s tears clinging to his eyelashes again. He’s going to be an absolute mess by the time they’re finished.
Jungsu squirts a large glob of lube onto his palm and generously coats his length. It’s cold, but he doesn’t care, his dick throbbing at finally getting some attention.
Jiseok pushes himself up on his elbows to give Jungsu one last slow and sloppy kiss before settling back down on the bed, shuffling to get comfortable. It’s such a simple and sweet gesture but it has Jungsu’s brain flooding with adoration. Jiseok looks beautiful spread out on the bed, splashes of cum drying on his stomach and lips cherry red from where he’s been biting them. Jungsu is entranced, dazed. He was going to make him ride him, but he looks so comfortable and cute that Jungsu decides to leave him where he is. He wants to see his face as he ruins him.
“Stop staring at me and put your dick in me already.”
“So impatient,” Jungsu laughs, and leans over to press a kiss on his forehead, sweeping his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “Just thinking about how beautiful you look.”
“Am not,” Jiseok huffs, but a dusting of pink spreads up his neck and onto his cheeks, chewing his bottom lip to try and hide his smile, betraying his own words.
“So beautiful,” he reaffirms, kisses Jiseok’s forehead again, lines his cock up against his hole. “So adorable.” He presses in slowly, and Jiseok whimpers, hands clawing up Jungsu’s back and tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “My pretty little princess.” He sinks into Jiseok’s heat until he’s fully sheathed, groaning at the tightness around his cock. He’s ignored his pleasure for so long, so focused on making Jiseok feel good, that the feeling makes him dizzy, head spinning. “Fuck, you feel so good, Jiseok.”
“So big, feel so full,” Jiseok chokes out, voice raw and desperate and heady. Jungsu rubs a thumb over his forehead soothingly, fingers running through his hair. He knows Jiseok can take it, done it dozens of times. He wants nothing more than to pound into him, into that tight wet heat, but he strains to hold himself back, needing to know if Jiseok is feeling good.
“Okay?”
“O-Okay… you can move, please.”
It’s like music to his ears. Jungsu braces himself on both arms either side of Jiseok’s head. He pulls his hips back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving back in again. The first thrust has him seeing stars, and he needs to take a second to breathe, resting his forehead on Jiseok’s. Jiseok moans, loud and languid, rolls his hips for another.
He thrusts into him again, sets a quick and stable pace that has Jiseok wrapping his legs around his thighs, pulling him in deeper, harder. Jungsu pants, breathless with each thrust, moaning against Jiseok’s lips, tongue swirling in his mouth and it feels so, so good. His skin buzzes, sparks every time Jiseok tugs at his hair, fingernails digging into his back. He feels lightheaded.
“Hyung-- ah-- hyung, feels so good. D-Don’t stop, please,” Jiseok pleads, tears wet in his eyes, and tightens his thighs around him. Jungsu pounds into his faster, aims a particularly hard thrust that sends a shockwave of pleasure rocking over both of them. Again, and again, hips snapping back and forth harshly. Jiseok clings to him, arms scrabbling to find hold to ground himself, hiccuping sobs tipping from his lips.
He wails when Jungsu finally, finally hits that sweet spot again, yanks Jungsu down to slot their lips together desperately. It’s messy, uncoordinated and filthy, and Jungsu loves it, loves Jiseok.
“There-- again, please, please,” he begs, babbling a string of words that are lost to Jungsu as he thrusts into that same spot, and he knows Jiseok isn’t going to last long, has already come once. “Please, love you so much, hyung.” His words set off fireworks in Jungsu’s chest and a spike of heat through his body.
“I love you too Jiseokkie, you’re doing so well for me, just a little more,” he pants as he fumbles a hand between their tense and sweaty bodies, strokes down Jiseok’s side and grasping his cock tight in his fist, pumping him in time to his thrusts. Jiseok’s hip’s lurch up to meet his hand, involuntarily snapping between his cock and his fist, caught in the pleasure. He clenches around Jungsu, hard, and Jungsu groans, tightens his grip, Jiseok’s precum coating his palm and fingers. The feeling consumes him. He feels like the air has been sucked out of his lungs.
“F-Fuck, I’m close, I’m gonna--” Jiseok cries, and in seconds he’s coming again, harder than the last time, back raised in a perfect arch and screaming Jungsu’s name. His jaw hangs open and his eyes are screwed shut, cheeks wet with tears. His cock twitches against his stomach, spurting cum as his release rocks through him. Jungsu strokes him through it, milks every last drop out of him until his stomach is wet and sticky again.
“So good, Jiseokkie, my princess. So pretty. You did so good,” Jungsu groans as Jiseok’s hole clenches tight around his cock.
Jiseok stills beneath him, one arm covering his eyes and the other fisted in the bedsheets, completely out of it. His thighs are trembling and his chest heaving. His small body wracks with the sobs spilling from his destroyed lips. The sight burns through Jungsu, and he grabs Jiseok’s waist, ramming him down hard on his cock. He’s close too, painfully so, and he thrusts a few more times, chasing his own high, before pulling out completely. He pumps himself once, twice, and his orgasm crashes into him like a tsunami. He lets out a low, raw and raspy moan as his cock pulses in his hand, spilling cum all over Jiseok’s stomach, mixing and pooling with Jiseok’s own. His perfect, pretty tummy. The thing that started all this.
“Fuck, Jiseok, holy shit…” Jungsu groans, shaky arms shooting to hold himself up over Jiseok, trembling with the effort. His sweaty bangs hang dishevelled in his eyes. Jiseok’s eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded and totally fucked out. He looks incredible.
“I love you,” he breathes, staring up at Jungsu in adoration and wonder, and it fills Jungsu’s chest with a glowing warmth, the hum of pleasure still buzzing in his veins.
Jungsu lowers himself shakily to lay beside Jiseok, rolls onto his side and slips an arm under his boyfriend’s head. He presses a soft kiss into his cheek. “I love you too, so much. Are you okay? That wasn’t too much?”
“God, no. That was perfect. Felt amazing,” Jiseok mumbles, and Jungsu can tell he’s getting sleepy, always does after sex.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet. We need to clean you up a little,” Jungsu says, and Jiseok groans. “You can’t sleep like that.”
“You came on me, you clean it up,” Jiseok retorts, turning his face so his nose brushes against Jungsu’s. He sticks his tongue out playfully. Jungsu rolls his eyes.
“I seem to remember you came on yourself. Twice, actually.” He glances down at the sticky pool on Jiseok’s stomach, streaking up his chest. He dips a finger into it, bringing it up in front of Jiseok’s face. “Look at the mess you made.”
Jiseok looks at him with a brow raised, lips twisting into a dirty grin, and darts his tongue out, over Jungsu’s finger. Jungsu recoils in disgust, sitting bolt upright on the bed, horrified.
“You did not just do that.”
“I did,” he says, and runs his tongue over his lips.
“Jiseok.”
“What? What did you expect me to do?”
“I actually can’t believe you.”
“You’re the one that’s crazily in love with me,” Jiseok laughs and pulls himself up a little, careful not to spill the mess onto the sheets. “Now go and get something to clean this up with, and pass me my phone.”
So demanding.
Unfortunately, Jiseok is right. He is crazily, insanely in love with him.
“Your phone? What for?”
Jiseok grins at him wildly, that look in his eyes again. “You don’t want to take a picture? You were staring at me so much earlier I thought you’d like to. Also, going to order a crop top.”
Oh, he’s really started something now.