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The light streaming into the bedroom has Jisung’s eyes squeezing hard enough for his forehead to wrinkle, eyebrows pinched and mouth in a grimace, causing him to finally stir. He pries his sleep-sticky eyelids apart to slide his hand across the mattress in search of his phone, and the sunlight makes his eyes ache before the glaringly bright LCD screen can.
His alarm hasn’t gone off yet, and his boyfriend is still sound asleep next to him—meaning there’s a sliver of a merciful chance Jisung will get to sleep just one more hour. He’d even be okay with forty five minutes.
Just as he rouses the phone screen from sleep with the hold button, his 07:00 alarm gently trills a melodic tune. Jisung sighs and rolls over to face his boyfriend. Peaceful and gentle, laying on his back with one arm across his stomach and the other bent at his head, draped over the pillow. Jisung resists the urge to poke his exposed armpit.
“Jeongin-ah,” Jisungs calls out to him, voice weak and gravelly in his throat. Jeongin barely stirs, only his shoulders adjusting at the noise of Jisung’s voice. “Baby,” he says this time, reaching out his hand from under the duvet to place it gently atop Jeongin’s chest. “Need t’ get up.”
“Mm,” Jeongin affirms. He wiggles first before rolling onto his side to face Jisung, eyes still shut, dark lashes against his puffy under-eyes. Jisung hooks his arm over Jeongin’s waist. He says, “In a minute.”
Jisung smiles. “‘Kay. I’ll pinch and kiss you awake if you’re not up when I come back.”
Jeongin cracks one eye open and shuts it again. “Oh no,” he says gruffly, his words crackly with sleep. “My boyfriend's mouth and hands on me. How terrible.”
Jisung wants to remind him that there was a time, back before Jisung and Jeongin became a “we,” when they were just two lifelong friends, that he was extremely adamant on not letting Jisung plant annoying kisses on his face when Jisung got drunk and clingy at nights out at the bar with their friends. Where a smooch was punishment. Because Jeongin was in denial, and Jisung very much wasn’t.
There’s a small smile on Jisung’s face. “Shut up,” he quips easily as he slides out of bed, bare feet tapping against the floor.
In one smooth motion, he pulls the soft cotton t-shirt from his torso and throws it onto the bed—just because he knows it’ll bother Jeongin—and steps out of his boxers.
“I can literally feel you looking,” Jisung says aloud as he shuffles towards their bathroom, the door already ajar.
The sheets rustle behind him. “You have a cute ass.”
Jisung looks over his shoulder and winks as he pushes the bathroom door open. “I know.”
Their tiny white tiled bathroom is as tidy as it can possibly be with their collection of skin care and toiletries on every available small surface. In the mirror above the sink, Jisung examines his tired face decorated with sleep lines and morning stubble, and his disheveled brown hair that sticks up and swoops against his forehead. He takes cups pectorals after a moment, and then admires the scars that have healed so nicely.
“Are you checking yourself out?” Jeongin calls from the bed.
“Maybe I am,” Jisung lilts back. He hears Jeongin laugh and roll back onto the bed.
He has to pee, he realizes, but before he even sits down on the toilet, he takes a quick hop over to the shower to turn at the knobs, just so the hot water can kick in as he sits.
He’s barely sat down on the toilet, cold seat jarring against his bare ass, when his sleepy boyfriend shuffles into the bathroom, his own dark hair equally disheveled.
“Sir,” Jisung greets his boyfriend as he reclines against the toilet tank, the porcelain cool against his back.
“Fellow associate,” Jeongin replies back, sleepy hands untying the drawstrings of his plaid pajama bottoms.
Raising his hips, Jisung scoots back on the toilet seat and splays his tan thighs apart, trying to give Jeongin space to aim.
Jeongin snorts, and Jisung smiles at how tired he still looks, eyes heavy and soft red lines grooved into his face from the creases in the pillow.
“It’s 7 am,” Jeongin says as he laughs, tone light, and he takes his soft, pretty cock from the fly of his dark boxers. Jisung doesn’t miss the way Jeongin’s dark eyes flit to Jisung’s little cock and pink cunt.
Jisung lolls his head onto his bare shoulder. “And?” he jokes. Knowing it isn’t an issue, knowing Jeongin is going along with it—with how his cock is already in his fist.
Jeongin lets out a disbelieving laugh as he aims his dick carefully above the space between Jisung’s legs. “You’re such a slut, hyung.”
“Hyung?” Jisung asks playfully exasperated. “You haven’t called me that in two years. You must really think I am a slut.” Jisung adjusts his ass on the seat, reclining more comfortably, and splays his legs further apart just so Jeongin can see his little cock already starting to fatten up over the idea of it all. Lightly Jisung treads his fingers at his clit, eyes heavy on Jeongin’s own. “But you are too, aren’t you?”
Jeongin’s stream is already trickling from the slit of his cock as Jeongin utters a quiet “Fuck” under his breath. It’s nervous at first, a stuttery spurt, and a stray drop lands hot at the fleshy underside of Jisung’s thigh, close to the swell of his ass.
“C’mon, baby, you like it.” Jisung tugs two fingers at his clit, stroking himself, insides getting hot, cunt blooming with the desire to be filled with something, anything—his fingers, Jeongin’s long fingers, Jeongin’s thick cock.
Without warning, Jeongin seems to crack—easily, might Jisung add, a bit too cocky—taking his cock and directing the pale yellow stream right onto Jisung’s clit.
“Fuck,” Jisung lets out, feeling Jeongin’s piss hot and messy on his swollen cock, dripping down his folds into the bowl of the toilet. “Yen-ah. Fuck, Yen-ah.”
The wet air from the shower is heavy in their confined bathroom, slicking both their skin with a thin sheen of sweat and humidity.
Jisung pulls the folds of his cunt apart, exposing his rosy flesh, his quivering, desperate hole, to show Jeongin everything. To show his boyfriend’s warm current flooding over his cunt. Jisung thinks about it—about Jeongin’s cock filling him up, bursting come and piss inside his aching guts. A sticky, reeking mess of urine and come all full inside him, leaking from his puffy cunt down the swell of his ass, or maybe onto Jeongin’s pelvis. If he was filled to the brim, he could force it out, watch it squirt from his pussy, his asshole, wherever Jeongin wanted to empty it inside him. The different positions that would give different feelings—all of it enough to make Jisung’s eyes roll into his head.
“Fucking shit,” Jeongin whispers. He moves in closer, piss splashing over Jisung’s mound, wetting his pubic hair.
“Is it hot, Yen-ah? Looking at hyung’s cunt like this.” With his left band, Jisung tugs the lip of his cunt just to plunge his right middle finger into his hole. It’s probably obscene to look at, Jisung short finger fucking into his pink pussy as his boyfriend’s searing piss flows over him. He strokes his thumb over his clit and he digs himself out, until Jeongin’s stream dies out completely.
His own bladder burns in his guts, not painfully, but just enough to let himself comfortably go, feeling his own stream flood out as fucks one, then two fingers into his slick hole.
“Shit, jagiya,” Jeongin says breathlessly, giving a quick upstroke to his cock.
Jisung groans with his eyes on his boyfriend's fattening cock, watching him stroke himself hard, as he plunges his own fingers inside himself as he urinates. It’s a mess, wet and splashing, all over his inner thighs, on his stomach. The sounds of it hitting the water in the bowl, of Jeongin’s fist working on his cock, of the squelching of Jisung’s cunt, it has his toes pointing into the tiles as he rides his fingers, chasing climax.
“Fuck, feels s’ good,” Jisung moans, stroking his insides faster until the pooling warmth in his gut floods out, his bladder finally empty. “‘Bout t’ come.” One final tug on his own cock and a quick plunge deep in his cunt, Jisung locks up, back arching, as he comes on his fingers.
“Shit,” Jeongin whimpers, a tight, quick fist beating at his cock over Jisung’s piss splashed flesh. “Fuck, I wanna—”
“Baby,” Jisung says breathlessly, “lemme help you.” He adjusts himself on the slick-wet seat, feeling dirty, feeling good and sated, flesh itching with drying urine. He leans forward, face right near the tip of Jeongin’s cock, and he looks up.
Jeongin is already looking down at him, eyes watery, dry lips bitten red, asking wordlessly for anything as he strokes his cock.
Jeongin’s tip is leaky already, and as his hand eases up on his cock, Jisung points the tip of his tongue at the slit. Acrid, salty, musky. Jeongin makes a sound close to a whimper, but not quite. Jisung’s slick drips thickly from his cunt, and he hears it splash into the toilet. Jisung clenches.
With a teasing mouth, Jisung wraps his soft lips around the spongy head of Jeongin’s cock and suckles. A surprising gush of precome slides onto his tongue, and he tries not to smile. Immediately Jisung tugs both the pajama and boxers hems quickly down Jeongin’s ass, only to nuzzle his nose against the warm flesh of Jeongin’s firm cock.
He opens his mouth, jaw hanging, and lets Jeongin feed the tip onto his waiting tongue. With authoritative hands, Jisung pushes Jeongin’s fingers from his cock to take it into his own dirty fists.
Jeongin’s jaw clenches. “Fuck, baby—”
“Mm,” Jisung hums, swallowing down what he knows isn’t enough, gripping Jeongin’s cock into one hand and stroking his sac with the other. He runs his tongue around the shaft, tasting it, laving against it, letting the saliva build up in his mouth, before pulling off to spit directly onto the tip.
Jeongin bucks his hips as Jisung strokes him, hands coming up to rest against Jisung’s skull. He’s getting desperate, Jisung can tell.
“C’mon, baby, I’ll give you what you want.” He cups his tongue against Jeongin’s leaky tip, cradling it. “Beg for it,” he says, words muffled with Jeongin’s cock in his mouth.
Jeongin grunts out, “Sung-ah, fuck,” and Jisung takes him further into his mouth, feeling the heavy weight of his boyfriend's cock on his tongue, in his throat. Jisung swallows, and Jeongin immediately fucks forward, small and eager. Jisung keeps his pace slow, takes Jeongin’s cock from his mouth to press his lips into the underside, to suck right where base meets sac. “Jagiya, please, come on, please.”
And that’s enough for Jisung. For him to take Jeongin’s wet, pulsing cock into his mouth so far he gags on it. The billowing steam has it so stuffy that it’s hard to breathe, especially with Jeongin’s cock down his throat, but he keeps going. Until it’s sloppy and frothy, saliva leaking down his chin and neck. His pussy still aches—he could get off again, he thinks. Mouth around his boyfriend’s dick, covered in both their urine, looking like a filthy slut.
“F-fuck, you’re so good,” Jeongin says breathlessly, “you’re so good.” And Jisung doesn’t think that’s really objectively true, but he drinks it up anyway, sucking his boyfriend's cock, wringing his fists around the base, pulling off just to rub his swollen lips against the slimy head. “Close,” he grits out, rutting his hips forward to fuck his cock into Jisung’s slack mouth. “Baby, close, fuck.”
He doesn’t want to eat come this early, not on an empty stomach, so he pulls off, quickly wrapping a wet fist around Jeongin’s cock to stroke him before there’s any protest.
“Come on me,” Jisung says, looking up at him, and he lets go of Jeongin’s slick cock to recline back against the toilet tank one more time, thighs open.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah. Fuck.” With a needy, desperate fist, Jeongin quickly bullies his cock, hard and fast, and then lets his soft fingertips stimulate his sensitive cockhead, uttering “Shit” until he’s finally coming ropes that drip and fling onto Jisung’s soft, tan stomach and pelvis with his eyes squeezed shut.
“You came so much, shit,” Jisung says, dragging his fingers through the mess of come and piss, swirling his fingers in it right at his vulva. Jeongin groans when Jisung fucks his come inside his hole.
“We have… no time to… Right?” Jeongin says suddenly, ears pink at the tips. “We’ll be late?”
Jisung can’t help but laugh as he pulls his fingers from his cunt. “Ah, Yen-ah, you were just calling me a slut and now you’re asking if you can fuck hyung’s pussy before breakfast reservations? After you just came?”
Jeongin’s face flushes despite his eyes rolling.
“Come on, bae,” Jisung says as he grabs Jeongin’s wrist. “The hot water is about to run out.”