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It's a mild morning, sun spreading across the rolling hills, red bleeding into gold, lavender and jasmine seeping into every corner of the house despite the smoldering heat. But that's Tuscany to you.
Lethargic is not a word Jeonghan ever imagined using. He'd imagined quick hands, and even quicker feet near the pool edge, accompanied by nagging voices and laughter. He'd imagined dozing off under the skies squished between two bodies, in the back of a pick up truck, the one he'd only see in western movies; trying to drown out kissing noise and yelling.
Lethargic is how Jeonghan would describe the morning now—sipping lukewarm espresso from a fancy machine, a half-eaten croissant on fine China. Soonyoung at the stove, Seokmin playing damage control, arms wrapped around a reddened neck, kisses scattered like afterthoughts. Jisoo fussing over outfits, cursing silently into the summer air, and Seungkwan pinching him, a guitar in his lap, strings as tight as his nerves. Jihoon might be doing pull-ups on the old swing outside, indifferent to impending sunburns, a dog finding shade in his small shadow—maybe.
A hand lands on Jeonghan's shoulder, but he's too drained to react. "Join me and hyung? We're hunting for a Korean market."
He sighs into his chest, brows furrowing. "Hansol, baby," he says, aiming for sincerity but still letting the annoyance seep through. "Two days here, and we've already absolutely annihilated the instant ramen stash. Was supposed to last the whole trip."
Hansol stays silent, just shrugs, hair sticking out awkwardly. Still a baby, Jeonghan thinks as he rises, tucks strands behind Hansol's ear, and pats his head. Dishes in the sink, the last pastry successfully now in Soonyoung's mouth, he leans against the counter, arms crossed.
He gazes out of the kitchen window, the landscape now merely a blur of soft pastels, then eyes the unfolded map on the table, its edges curling like the corners of his tired smile. The allure of a proper meal excursion battles with the comfort of a sunlit chair, the bad espresso now merely a memory despite the bitterness on his tongue.
Soonyoung flips a pancake with exaggerated flair, Seokmin's laughter a counterpoint to the sizzling pan. Hansol, persistent as the midday haze, lingers with anticipation. Jeonghan can almost taste the buzzing in the boy's veins, but the wariness anchors him to the kitchen counter. "Baby," he drawls, fingers idly tapping the cool surface. "Market can wait. We're on Italian time now, remember?"
Hansol pouts, a soft plea in his eyes. Jeonghan relents, pushing off the counter with the grace of a cat stretching after a nap, and curls his arms around the boy's waist. Hansol doesn't seem persuaded in the least, "Hyung, seriously," he persists, eyes hopeful. "Korean market, Jeonghan. We're desperate for ramen."
If anything, Jeonghan always had a soft spot for Hasol and Hansol only, so he huffs and looks away. “Fine, fine, go get re–” the boy practically leaps away, a goofy grin plastered to his face.
He meets Seokmin's well knowing gaze from across the counter, shrugging and wrapping both arms around himself. But Seokmin says nothing.
He ascends the stairs with slow steps, the arms steady around his middle as if grounding himself against the pull of fatigue. He slips quietly into the room at the end of the hallway, finding it in darkness, the curtains still drawn shut. Reaching for the curtains, he parts them just enough for the sunlight to seep in mutedly.
The little things emerge gradually—the rumpled sheets, a half-open suitcase, and the all familiar silhouette of someone sleeping.
“Mingoo-ya~” he sings-songs, crouching down to pick at the scattered snack foils and throws them into the bin. Then he's quickly towering over the sleeping man, hands effectively on both hips and one leg bent. It'll take a lot more to rouse Mingyu from the dead, well it should in theory, but Mingyu blinks up at him almost immediately. Frankly, Jeonghan is a bit weirded out.
It doesn't stop him from bending down and placing a kiss to Mingyu's cheek, which the younger so clearly basks in, because as soon as Jeonghan starts pulling away, Mingyu grabs his hand and puts it on his own cheek, nuzzling into the skin.
“Go get ready dear, we have that tour coming up in two hours.”
Mingyu's voice is thick with sleep, a low, whiny grumble in his throat, “Come on hyung, let me sleep. The tour guide canceled, called Jihoon up at like 4am to tell him. Something about his wife being in labor? I don't know, his accent was pretty thick, so it was either that or they're charging him for tax fraud.”
Things have not been looking up for them. First they accidentally leave Seungcheol at the airport, and now this. ‘We all barely see each other because of work’ Seungcheol said. ‘A trip would do us all good’ he said. Well Jeonghan doesn't really know what to think of it now.
But whatever it is, it soon dies out as Mingyu folds him down into a proper kiss, chapped, dry lips uncomfortable against Jeonghan's own. “Morning breath,” he complains, but doesn't protest when Mingyu pulls him on top of his thighs, and Jeonghan immediately cups the obvious tent in his shorts. “Good dream?”
Mingyu nods, but he deems it insufficient. “Tell hyung what you dreamt of.”
The nature seems to die down at that moment, or maybe Jeonghan just gets too lost in the sudden rush of warmth down south, squeezing Mingyu properly through the thin material, feeling him twitch. He grazes with his fingers as much as he can, wraps them around the base a bit and lays a palm flat on. Mingyu shivers against the touch, or maybe even because of the light chill of the room, and Jeonghan takes it as the perfect moment to tease.
So he stops and moves onto his inner thighs, raking nails over the thin expanse of sensitive skin, lifting up the hem of the shorts and sneaks underneath them. He doesn't feel Mingyu up, but decides on railing him up a bit, making him real needy. Just the way he likes it.
“Want hyung to touch you? Where baby?”
Mingyu lets his mouth fall open as Jeonghan's fingers cross paths just near his cock, but never touching it, breath coming out in short puffs. It takes every ounce of Jeonghan's body not to give in and show mercy. “Why don't you want to tell me what you dreamt? Are you embarrassed?”
He doesn't get an answer in return but the buck of hips into his palm, and realizes this could turn much more interesting. Mingyu is extremely cute when he's riled up and desperate. And oh, is he desperate, tips of his ears already crimson. It would be cute if it wasn't so arousing.
They meet halfway into a messy kiss, and Jeonghan can taste the espresso from his own tongue, but he's unrelenting, licking into Mingyu's mouth without mercy. There's something unapologetically raw in having someone trembling in your arms before proper sunrise, connected with just hands and strings of saliva.
Some might like to describe it more as off-putting or unpleasant, but to Jeonghan, it's the best feeling in the world. He lets Mingyu know as much by pressing down onto his whole body a bit harder, fingers tangled in his hair.
When they pull away, Mingyu is a bit out of breath. Jeonghan decides to make use of it while the boy is too busy with easing his own breathing, sliding off his thighs and kissing them instead. He peppers little kisses and bites all over soft skin, one hand struggling in holding down a squirming Mingyu.
It's quiet, save for the little noises Mingyu is making, too scared to be heard by his other hyungs. It's funny to Jeonghan, knowing very well the exhibitionistic tendencies he has. “If you can keep silent I'll reward you really nicely.”
One thing about Mingyu is he loves challenges. Even the ones he knows he'll probably lose.
Jeonghan starts off slowly, merciful enough to not ruin Mingyu's chances right off the bat; licks a long, heavy line across the perineum and wraps his hand around the shaft, squeezing just enough to get the first reaction. Mingyu buries both hands into the duvet, a low purr in his throat.
He watches the boy intently, waiting for him to lower his guard, and when Mingyu does exactly so, he takes him into his mouth half-length, the other half being taken care of with an attentive hand. After all, Mingyu is on the bigger side. Not something Jeonghan could say he dislikes.
Mingyu's thighs automatically close in on him, giving him barely any time to hold onto them just enough so they don't suffocate him. Another thing he can't bring himself to dislike. “Hyung,” Mingyu whispers through teeth, “You too…”
Attentive as ever.
He knows exactly what Mingyu wants; to have him prepared and ready once he's done with the teasing, wanting to waste no more time other than foreplay and the sex. Jeonghan can live under those conditions. Thrive, even.
So, he does as asked. Multitasking was never his strong suit, but he makes the effort; sucks on two of his fingers until they're glistening, making sure Mingyu can see it. Then, he's back with his mouth on the boy and fingers sneaking behind himself, a bit tricky trying to prep himself with little lube and only one hand. The position is also far from ideal, but he makes it worth, and Mingyu most certainly thinks so too, bucking up into mouth now that the grip on his thighs and hips is almost nonexistent.
It feels good though, and that's what's most important to him right now. Well, that and the promise of being stretched out into next week. Silly little fun times.
He pops off of Mingyu after reaching a particularly sensitive area with his fingers, side of the face pressed into the boy's thigh, jaw slack and lips parted. Mingyu pats his hair, as if trying to ground him despite his own sensitivity and current headspace. It's very much welcome, and soon enough Jeonghan nuzzles into the skin of his palm instead, fingers relentlessly stretching him open and ready.
Of course he needs to be good for Mingyu, as much as Mingyu needs to be good for him.
“Are you not,” he pants, feeling sweat drip down his temple already, “going to tell hyung what you dreamt?”
Mingyu whines and huffs, still clearly embarrassed. Oh he'll talk, Jeonghan thinks as he ceases all action and gets up into a kneeling position. It has Mingyu confused, but eventually gets the point across. “No please, I'll tell you. I will, I promise.”
Jeonghan makes sure to have him keep that promise, wrapping a hand around him again but not doing anything. Mingyu tries bucking into it once, twice, three times, but it's ineffective. “Fine! You were there, in the bedroom tied to the bedframe and…”
Oh, now this is more to Jeonghan's liking. He thumbs at the head purposefully slowly, loving the way Mingyu's head lolls to the side. “And what, baby? Who else was there? You, maybe? Or did hyung have fun with someone else.”
“Someone else,” he manages to utter through the tiny gasps as Jeonghan's hand finally moves at normal pace. It's too easy to guess who it was, Mingyu's not so hidden mostly platonic crush is definitely not a secret. Jeonghan snickers before pulling away completely.
“Can't believe you let someone else manhandle me,” he tsks, too amused. “But then again… it's not like you manhandle me, isn't that right? Big baby loves to be coddled and spoiled, don't you?”
Just as Mingyu frantically nods his head, Jeonghan moves to remove his own shirt, feeling Mingyu's eyes on him like a hawk. A rather pathetically weak hawk at the moment. “Don't worry, you know I'm all yours.”
He can feel Mingyu shiver at the words, the anticipation pulling his strings taut. He's had his little fun for these few minutes, it would be improper to let the boy wait any more. He gets up, rids himself of the rest of his clothes, and tries to find the little bottle of the damn too pricey lube from his suitcase. Once it's in his hands, he's quickly back on the bed, straddling Mingyu's thighs once again.
He squirts an overly generous amount of it, coating the rest with his hand. It's cold and probably uncomfortable, but Mingyu doesn't let it show. He's too busy trying not to combust under Jeonghan like this, breath hitching when his boyfriend finally eases himself down on his cock. He's thankful he didn't have to suffer the teasing as long as usual. (And he’s thankful how Jeonghan can take him with this little prep, but that goes without saying.)
It takes a bit for Jeonghan to adjust and fully bottom out, palms flat on Mingyu’s chest for leverage. And the occasional squeeze.
Mingyu is still riled up from before, so he won’t last long, something Jeonghan is very well aware of. “You want to cum with hyung, baby? You’ll have to help me out first, though,” he guides the boy’s hands in between his own legs, gasping when Mingyu squeezes at the base and thumbs at the head.
“Ah good boy,” he pinches Mingyu’s hip in encouragement. The back of his thighs are burning already, and he can feel his muscles tensing painfully, but it’s all worth it for the feeling of Mingyu stretching him silly. He preens at the accomplishment of just how good and deep he can take him. He can tell he's already becoming louder as he feels two fingers snake past his lips and land on his tongue, heavy and familiar.
It is reassuring, welcoming, and, to some extent, arousing. Oh, it's definitely arousing.
Keeping both hands on Mingyu's wrist to keep him in place, he whimpers, pushing the fingers deeper into his mouth till he can nearly feel them at the back of his throat. The familiar condescending sneer on his lover's face appears, and thank goodness Jeonghan isn't clear-headed enough to slap it away.
The grip Mingyu has on his hips is unrelenting, pulling the man back harshly to meet his thrusts. He'd be lying if he said that hasn't always been the favorite part of his body. Jeonghan gasps for air, little puffs and moans and Mingyu's name spilling out of him like a prayer. It has Mingyu flushing in the face, as breathless as they get.
He wants to spread him even wider, to fit into every corner of his body, to stay there until he withers away.
With that thought in mind, he slams harder, watching his boyfriend fall apart. In a matter of seconds, his thighs shake with the intensity of his orgasm. He can feel himself leak past the rim, eager to scoop it up with his fingers and tease at Jeoghan’s mouth. He doesn’t, but instead decides to keep moving, seeing as Jeonghan is very close, quivering above him.
All it takes is a couple more thrusts and Jenghan is spilling in ribbons all over them with a sharp cry, gasping for air through it. When he’s sane enough, he leans down to press their sweaty foreheads together, pressing a kiss to Mingyu’s lips.
“I’ll go take a shower, and you put on something fancy for me. We don’t need a tour guide for a nice date. And the Korean market, apparently.”