Chapter Text
When the members and staff go out to dinner after wrapping a shoot, it’s never just dinner.
That’s how Mingi finds himself four drinks in and barking out a too-loud laugh at every remotely funny comment anyone makes, and throwing his arm around Jongho seated next to him as they sing into their spoons like it’s a karaoke bar.
Normally Mingi gets intimidated being next to Jongho during social outings, but for some reason they’re hitting it off tonight. Maybe it’s the four drinks – Mingi knows Jongho could drink him under the table but he still inexplicably accepts every shot the maknae pours him. The alcohol dissolves whatever thin filter Mingi normally has between his brain and his mouth, and the two end up discussing all manner of topics they usually never touch, at least not between the two of them. Everything from griping about work to thoughts and plans for the future to even their sex lives. Jongho makes some offhand comment about how he’s having a dry spell, like it doesn’t just blow Mingi’s mind to think about Jongho in bed with someone.
“Dry spell? My whole life is a dry spell,” Mingi scoffs and drops his head into his arms folded on the table. “Of course,” he groans, voice muffled by his arms. “Of course you have experience and I don’t.”
Jongho laughs, but not with cruelty. “It’s okay, hyung. We all move at different speeds.”
“No!” With great difficulty, Mingi drags his heavy head back upright. “I don’t want this speed! I want a faster speed!”
“Then you gotta get out there,” Jongho says with a shrug, taking another sip from his glass.
“You say it like it’s so simple,” Mingi sighs, deciding his head is in fact still too heavy to hold up by itself, so he rests his chin in his hands, both elbows on the table. He ends up squishing his own cheeks together slightly, making his lips pouty. “My first time’s gonna be an absolute mess. I just wish I had someone to practice with.”
“Practice, huh…?” Jongho seems to really consider that concept, keeping his glass near his lips as he mulls it over.
“Yeah. Like someone I’m not embarrassed with, so I can just get it out of my system and maybe learn a thing or two. Then I’ll be ready for the real thing.”
“Get what out of your system?”
Mingi mumbles something into his glass before drowning his embarrassment with a large gulp.
“What?” Jongho sounds annoyed.
“I just want—” This time he’s way too loud, but no one bats an eye as it blends right in to the din of conversation around them. He still lowers his voice and leans into Jongho, glancing around the room nervously like he’s sharing a conspiracy theory. “I just want to be inside someone. I want to know what it’s like.”
Jongho shakes his head with a fond smile. “Not gonna lie, it’s pretty good,” he says. After another modest sip of his drink and what looks like a little internal deliberation, he continues, “Tell you what. You should practice on me.”
Mingi has to spit some of his drink back into his glass. “Jongho-yah! How much have you had to drink?” He picks up Jongho’s glass to inspect its contents and see if it’s emptier than he thought.
“What, is it really such a crazy idea?” Jongho snatches his glass back. “Who are you more comfortable with than the members? Except I’m the only one who won’t be afraid to tell you what you suck at.”
Mingi’s shoulders slump. “I don’t think I have the mental fortitude to endure you telling me what I suck at.”
“Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll be gentle,” he says teasingly, dropping a hand onto Mingi’s thigh to rub it comfortingly. Then his hand lingers, and suddenly Mingi can feel the heat of his palm searing through the fabric of his pants and becomes overly aware of how high up his thigh it is.
“I should be the one saying that,” Mingi grumbles.
Jongho laughs. “That’s the spirit.”
He lifts his hand from his thigh to pat the side of Mingi’s face. Mingi’s eyelids automatically grow heavy at the affectionate touch, and then Jongho’s hand slips around to rub at the back of his neck, his eyes fall shut completely.
“Mingi-yah.”
Mingi blinks his eyes back open to look at Jongho, too warm and happy to comment on the informal address. “Hm?”
“Want to get out of here?”
—
As soon as they get back to the dorm, they kick off their shoes and hurry to Mingi’s room. The single room was such a waste on Mingi who never even used the precious privacy to get lucky. Well, that changes tonight.
Jongho closes the door behind them only for Mingi to immediately push him against it, pressing sloppy, drunken kisses to his mouth and neck before Jongho chuckles and says, “Slow down, tiger. Do I have to teach you how to kiss, too?”
Mingi whines, caught halfway between wanting to protest and just wanting to get naked. He decides to focus on the latter, pulling away to tear off his own shirt and throw it to the ground. He moves to take off Jongho’s as well, but the maknae swats his hands away. “C’mere.”
Jongho leads Mingi over to the bed before shedding his own pants and underwear in one go without any preamble and lying down against the pillows. He spreads his legs and Mingi stares reverently, absolutely mesmerized by the fact that someone can just do that – put themself on display seemingly without a shred of self-consciousness.
Not to mention his cock is gorgeous. Half-hard, it lies enticingly against his stomach, the tip coyly half-hidden under the hem of his black t-shirt, and Mingi all but forgets about trying to fuck Jongho – he just wants him in his mouth now.
“Jongho-yah,” Mingi nearly pants as he crawls onto the bed in between the other’s legs. “Can I…?” He stops and starts over, trying to think of how to word it without making himself cringe, but still not succeeding. “I – I want…I want to taste you.”
Jongho smiles and lets his knees fall even wider apart. “Maybe next time. Let’s focus on what you came here for. You got any lube? Condoms?”
Mingi nods and leans over to root around in his nightstand. He has one strip of foil-wrapped condoms shoved in the back of the drawer, and they’re not that old either.
A little while back, Wooyoung got a large package delivered to the dorm and he was opening it right in the entryway when Mingi happened to be walking by. He called Mingi’s name and threw the strip of condoms at him, then smacked his ass and said, “Go have some fun, okay?” Mingi had blushed furiously and ran away, but now he’s extremely grateful for that moment.
With the lube and condoms in hand, Mingi settles back between Jongho’s legs.
“Don’t think too hard,” Jongho says, stroking the top of Mingi’s thigh comfortingly. “Just go slow. It’s been a minute since I’ve bottomed.”
God, Mingi’s head swims as he imagines Jongho with other partners, and he’s not sure what’s hotter – Jongho fucking someone else, or getting fucked by someone. But he has to focus on what’s in front of him, as he’s about to be one of the lucky few to see the second category.
He starts to tear open a condom but Jongho tsks and Mingi looks up.
“What are you doing?” Jongho deadpans.
“About to…have sex?”
“Don’t tell me you were about to just shove it in.”
“Should I – not?”
“Yah, you have to finger me first!”
“Oh! Uh – yeah, of course…” Mingi hurriedly uncaps the lube and pours some out onto his fingers. He accidentally pours too much and it spills over onto Jongho’s leg.
“Shit, sorry,” Mingi mumbles, trying to wipe it off with his other hand.
“S’fine, just keep going,” Jongho sounds half-encouraging, half-impatient.
So Mingi keeps going, and it’s a back and forth of Mingi doing something and Jongho immediately giving feedback, good or bad. In an unusual display of talkativeness, Jongho keeps Mingi on track with things like “watch the fingernails”, “go slower”, “add another finger already”, “not that slow”, and “yeah, like that”.
Then he tries for a more advanced concept, saying, “Okay, now keep moving your finger like that, but try and hook them towards my stomach, but not too far in, and try to see if you can find…” But then he trails off when he sees the look of bewilderment on Mingi’s face. “Actually, never mind, it’s fine.”
Mingi originally said he wanted to practice with someone he wasn’t embarrassed around. Jongho doesn’t actually fit that bill exactly, but to Mingi’s horror, he’s finding that he actually might like being treated like he’s a nuisance, at least the way Jongho does it.
“All right, already, get your fingers out of me, you brute,” Jongho tugs at Mingi’s wrist to get him to withdraw. “Let’s get that dick wet.”
Mingi doesn’t need to be told twice, and he quickly rips open the condom and sheaths himself. He’s about to line himself up when Jongho says, “Wait! You trying to split me in half? You need more lube on your dick.”
“Oh, sure,” Mingi hurries to comply, and bites his lip hard when just the feeling of stroking himself to lube up gets him close to the edge with how riled up he is.
Finally, wonderfully, gloriously, Mingi lines himself up with Jongho’s hole and tentatively pushes. When the head slips inside, Jongho sucks in a quiet hiss, and Mingi immediately says, “Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Keep going.”
So Mingi does, pushing forward at a snail’s pace, caught between fear of hurting Jongho and fear of coming immediately. Once fully seated, he drops his head between his shoulders and tries to catch his breath.
“Mingi-yah…for the love of god…please move your hips.”
“Sorry, I just – I’m already close,” Mingi whimpers.
“It’s fine, I don’t care if you come quickly.”
“No, I mean, like…I don’t think I can move at all.”
Mingi notices Jongho’s shoulders shake with an effort not to laugh, but he doesn’t even care anymore. He just wants to last more than two seconds, but he swears he could probably come like this, just wrapped in Jongho’s tight heat without even moving.
His eyes sting with tears that threaten to spring forward, and Jongho reaches up to put a hand to the back of his neck.
“Mingi-yah, look at me,” Jongho’s voice has softened, and it soothes Mingi’s frayed nerves a little. Mingi lifts his gaze to finally make eye contact, but the affectionate expression he finds on his friend’s face just makes the tears well up even more.
“It’s okay, take your time,” Jongho reassures. “But this is what the practice is for. It’s fine if you don’t last, I’m serious. Just do what feels good.”
So with a deep breath, Mingi steels himself and pulls out. Trying not to let himself overthink it, he thrusts back in without pausing – two, three, four more pumps and then a broken moan spills out of his throat as he comes, his eyes squeezed shut and hips stuttering.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Jongho says, almost sounding irritated. Then he puts a hand to Mingi’s face and draws him in for a sweet, slow kiss. When he pulls away, he smirks and says, “Now, want me to show you how it’s done?”
Mingi’s eyebrows shoot up. “But I just came!”
“Yeah, and?” Jongho pulls away and wriggles to prompt Mingi to pull out. He does, slowly, wincing as his sensitive head pops out through Jongho’s tight ring of muscle. He barely gets the condom off and thrown to the floor before Jongho pushes him onto his back and settles in between his legs. “You’ll probably come again by the time I’m through with you.”
Mingi feels his spent little cock twitch just at the thought. Then Jongho manhandles him into position – he pushes his legs together and towards his chest, with Mingi’s cock trapped on the side facing Jongho. Keeping his legs pushed up with the powerful grip of one hand, Jongho uses the other to grab the discarded lube on the bed, uncaps it with his mouth and pours it liberally on Mingi’s dick, letting the cold liquid drip down to his hole.
He hands the lube to Mingi to deal with, who sets it aside on the nightstand. Then Jongho wraps his hand lightly around Mingi, slowly spreading the lube and making Mingi whine and mewl at the sensation.
“S’too much,” he chokes out, squirming but having no effective way to escape Jongho’s grasp.
“Is it?”
Mingi doesn’t reply, just grabs a fistful of the sheets in each hand on either side of him. It is too much, but he finds he still wants to bear whatever Jongho decides to give him.
Thankfully, it’s not long before Jongho moves his hand from Mingi’s cock down to his hole. He rubs the lube around, letting his finger catch on the rim occasionally but not pushing in yet. He keeps it up for so long that Mingi’s cock twitches and starts to fill out again, and he thinks he might go crazy if Jongho doesn’t put something inside him now.
“Please,” the word slips past his lips before he can stop it. Mercifully, Jongho obliges, and pushes a finger inside, achingly slowly.
“Have you ever played with your little hole, hyung?” Jongho asks as he lazily drags his finger in and out.
Mingi turns his head to the side, trying to bury his burning face into the pillow as he pants against it. Even just the single finger feels so good, but he already craves more.
“Well?” Jongho stops moving – he clearly won’t let his question go without an answer.
“I – yeah, a few times,” Mingi admits, eyes squeezed shut. He’s literally sprawled in front of Jongho with his finger up his ass but for some reason, saying that out loud is the thing that makes him most shy.
But then Jongho says, “Good,” and some of the embarrassment trickles away.
Instead of elaborating, or giving Mingi a chance to ask, Jongho swiftly adds another finger. Mingi cries out at the stretch, thrashing his head to the other side of the pillow. “That’s just two fingers?”
“Three.”
Mingi moans in response.
As Jongho starts fucking him with his fingers in earnest, Mingi wishes he could reach around to touch himself but his cock is still trapped on the other side of his legs. But Jongho’s hand is really only holding his legs up, not keeping them together, so he pulls his legs apart, his now fully hard cock springing up to slap against his stomach, and he reaches down to tug at himself just enough to take the edge off.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jongho barks, pulling his fingers out and using both hands to grab either thigh, pulling them even further apart.
“Sorry,” Mingi breathes, his hands flying away from his dick and he goes back to clutching at the sheets.
Jongho leans in and looks down to try and line his dick up with Mingi’s hole. The tip catches against the rim and Mingi instinctively clenches as if to try and catch it and suck it in, but instead, Jongho swirls his hips to rub himself up and down along the line of his crack, then further up to rub his length against Mingi’s. Without a hand to press them together, the touch is so infuriatingly light, and Mingi bucks his hips up against him.
Jongho takes one hand off Mingi’s thigh to grab himself at the base and line up his cock next to Mingi’s against his stomach. “Look, hyung. That’s how deep I’ll be.”
Mingi lifts his head to look. Jongho’s bigger than him – thicker, too. “Fuck,” he blurts, his eyebrows furrowing.
Jongho huffs a laugh through his nose. “It’s not gonna kill you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Mingi grumbles, reaching out to touch, stroking him a few times, almost like he’s jerking himself off. Jongho gives a shaky sigh, rolling his hips in time with Mingi’s hand. Mingi tries to wrap his long fingers around both of them, but his hand isn’t quite big enough for it to feel like much more than a tease.
Jongho pulls away and sits back to rip open a new condom and roll it on quickly before repositioning to line himself up. When Mingi feels him pressing against his rim, he can immediately feel the sheer difference in size between him and some fingers, and he nearly panics. But he trusts Jongho – he squeezes his eyes shut and tells himself he trusts Jongho, and that he’ll keep taking what he generously gives him.
The head slips inside, drawing a pitiful whimper from the back of Mingi’s throat.
“That okay?” Jongho asks softly.
“Yeah,” Mingi exhales.
Jongho keeps up a glacial pace, pushing inside centimeter by painstaking centimeter, until Mingi’s squirming his hips to try and take him deeper. Jongho pulls back, and for a second Mingi’s terrified he’s going to start the torturously slow process all over again, but instead he thrusts back in quickly, ripping a surprised wail out of Mingi. Jongho glances up at Mingi’s face quickly to gauge his expression for any pain, but there is none, only hazy pleasure softening his gaze and making his mouth slack, hanging slightly open.
“Do – do that again,” Mingi whispers.
So Jongho does – sliding out slowly, then thrusting back in, only as deep as Mingi has taken him so far, which is only about half way. He rocks his hips rhythmically to slowly, slowly slide further inside in a less torturous manner than before. Tiny noises spill uncontrollably past Mingi’s lips with each similarly tiny movement, and Mingi wishes he could stay here forever, at the mercy of the unending waves of pleasure lapping at the edges of his mind.
Before Mingi even realizes it, Jongho’s bottomed out inside him, and he’s just swirling their hips together without actually moving in or out. Certainly not the kind of thing that would make either of them come, but it’s a pleasant sensation that makes Mingi feel both placated and more desperate than ever.
“How’s it feel?” Jongho asks, now pulling out just a hair before rocking back in.
Mingi hums, his eyes falling shut. “S’good.”
“You ready, hyung?”
He must take Mingi’s silence as a yes, because he pulls out until just the head is barely left inside, then pounds back in to the hilt. Mingi yelps, eyes flying back open as all his sensitive nerves light up at once, but Jongho doesn’t give him a second to recover as he starts fucking him in earnest now. One hand still holding up a thigh, the other braced on the bed next to Mingi, Jongho leans in for a kiss, fast and sloppy, before tucking his forehead against Mingi’s shoulder. The feeling of Jongho’s hot breath puffing against him and the obscene slap of skin on skin as Jongo slams his hips into him both serve to turn Mingi on even more, even beyond the sweet slide and stretch of Jongho inside him.
This is light years away from just masturbating – possibly even better than having had his dick in Jongho. Mingi can’t believe the human body is even capable of feeling this good. He can practically feel his brain getting rewired as he gets utterly addicted to Jongho’s thick cock slamming into him, each thrust punching a new desperate sound out of him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Mingi babbles on every exhale, “How are you – why does it – fuck, it’s so – it’s fucking – it’s so good – it feels so – so good, so good—”
Jongho grins, seemingly encouraged by the incoherent nonsense, as he lifts Mingi’s legs higher and starts to pound even harder. Mingi straight up yells at the way the new angle hits him even deeper, and he’s barely in control of his body anymore as his hands scramble all over Jongho’s back, not knowing what to grab onto, not knowing anything but Jongho’s cock slamming into his prostate and making him see stars.
With a strangled cry, Mingi comes untouched, his cock spurting wildly all over his chest. Jongho slows his pace slightly, trying to help Mingi ride the wave and maximize the feeling, until Mingi slumps back against the pillows and Jongho stops entirely. He hadn’t realized it but it felt like his whole body had tensed up, every muscle seizing at the sheer force of pleasure that just ripped through him.
Mingi looks up at Jongho with wide eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in complete disbelief. He swallows thickly in between harsh panting breaths, completely winded despite feeling like Jongho did all the work.
Jongho bites back his smile, but he still clearly looks pretty smug and pleased with himself. “You good?”
“What the fuck – was that?” Mingi pants. “And how have you – not come yet?”
Jongho laughs. “Practice.”
Mingi doesn’t even want to ask who he “practiced” with. He knows he’ll just spiral into obsessive thoughts about Jongho with that person (people?) and it doesn’t matter.
After a quiet moment to catch their breath, Jongho asks, “Think I can keep going?”
Before Mingi can answer, Jongho gives a small, testing swirl of his hips. The angle is different than before and while it’s still a lot, Mingi thinks he can bear it, so he nods.
Jongho shifts Mingi’s legs to get him to wrap them around his waist, then proceeds to rock into him, a little more slowly and shallowly than before. His eyebrows furrow in concentration, staying mostly motionless save for the steady pumping of his hips. It feels so much different than before, then Mingi realizes: before, he was doing it for Mingi’s pleasure. Now he’s doing it for his own.
With a shudder, Jongho’s pace falters and slows, giving a few shallow pumps as he quietly comes inside Mingi. After a pause to catch his breath, he flops down on the bed, not even bothering to take the condom off his softening cock lying against his stomach.
Mingi starfishes next to Jongho, stretching out his long, sore limbs as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze. He can’t believe a single dick could make him see god, cure all his ailments, clear his skin, etc, etc. He might have to reconsider everything he ever thought about sex. He turns his head to the side to look at Jongho and give him a goofy smile. Jongho returns it instantly, and the two break into giggles, delirious from the hormones flooding their brains and the absurdity of this unexpected turn their friendship has taken.