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It starts, like most of the times they have sex, with arguing.
Jaemin has this vengeful, petty habit of winning their arguments by being a fucking pervert, and Donghyuck always plays right into it, because- well. He enjoys being right.
And when he isn’t, the consequences aren’t too bad either.
“You said you were gonna do your laundry at 5pm,” Jaemin says from the kitchen, where he’s rooting through Donghyuck’s fridge. “And you need groceries, there’s nothing edible in here.”
Donghyuck groans from his slump on the couch in the living room, eyes on the TV.
“Get off my back,” he complains. “I didn’t ask you to come over to nag me.”
Jaemin appears in the doorway, a hand on his hip. Under the warm light, his silhouette looks larger than usual, the curves of his arms more pronounced. He’d gone to the salon recently, so his hair is fresh-dyed blue and silky soft. It’s one of Donghyuck’s favourite colours on him, though of course, he’d rather die than tell Jaemin that.
“What am I here for, exactly?” Jaemin asks.
Donghyuck hesitates. Then shrugs. “Dunno.”
Jaemin frowns.
“I’m hungry,” he complains. “You should have told me to pick up food or something.”
“Oh my god, you’re miserable,” Donghyuck huffs, and lifts himself off the couch to stomp past Jaemin and into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “I’ve got food right here.”
“What am I gonna do with a tray of eggs and…are those tomatoes? What do you need fifteen tomatoes for?”
“There was a sale,” Donghyuck shoots a glare at Jaemin. “Make pasta or something, I don’t know. There’s noodles in the cupboard.”
“Do you have olive oil?” Jaemin asks.
“Maybe, try the cupboard below the stove,” Donghyuck considers it. “It might be expired, though.”
There is. Jaemin pulls it out and inspects the label.
“How long has this been in here?”
“Stop asking me questions you don’t want answers to,” Donghyuck snips. “Is it expired or not?”
“Not yet,” Jaemin frowns. “But I don’t know if it’s still good.”
Donghyuck moves over to grab the slim glass bottle out of Jaemin’s hands and flicks the cap open to sniff.
“ tsk . Not like that,” Jaemin says, reaching over the sink to place a glass on the counter, and grabs the bottle back to pour a little oil into it. He sinks two fingers into the liquid, then rubs it against his thumb consideringly.
“It’s fine, I think. Can you get the pasta?”
“Get it yourself,” Donghyuck says reflexively, then moves to the cupboards anyway, stretching up to search for the dried noodles on the upper shelf. There’s a slight coolness on the small of his back from where his t-shirt rides up, just above the waistband of his shorts.
“Wow, do that again.”
“What?”
Jaemin moves to crowd him against the counter, one firm length of heat all along his back.
“That’s hot. I can see your little back dimples.”
“Go away,” Donghyuck says, not turning back to look. He ignores it as Jaemin slides a finger along his shorts, then hooks into it, one fingernail pressed against his skin. Jaemin stills.
“Are you not wearing underwear?”
Donghyuck pauses.
“I’m at home.” He says defensively.
“Oh,” Jaemin says, and there’s an obvious delight in his tone now. Pleased like a cat who caught something to eat. Or a snake. “I see why I’m here now.”
“That’s not why you’re here.”
“No?” Jaemin presses his body firmer against Donghyuck’s back. His clean hand comes up to slide from the side of Donghyuck’s waist up to his chest, under his shirt. Warm lips attach to the side of Donghyuck’s neck. “Stop me, then.”
“In–” Donghyuck cuts himself off abruptly when the kisses under his jaw turn into bites. His cock twitches in interest. “In the kitchen?”
Jaemin leans in, prompting Donghyuck to turn and meet his amused eyes. “That’s your concern?”
“You still have oil on your fingers,” Donghyuck protests weakly.
“You’re right,” Jaemin hums consideringly. “What a waste.”
Donghyuck knows he’s full of shit when there’s a firm tug on his shorts anyway, pulling until Donghyuck feels the restraints of the waistband under his ass, holding the top of his thighs together.
“Better use it then,” Jaemin grins, all his teeth on display.
“That’s not–” Donghyuck shuts up very quickly when a slippery finger slides between his ass, teasing a little before pressing in, until it rests on the rim of his hole. “This is so unsanitary.”
“Arrest me,” Jaemin says nonchalantly, and then works his finger in one glide, so fast and smooth Donghyuck’s knees buckle.
“You fuck,” Donghyuck chokes out, all the blood in his head surging into his cock instead, fattened up and pressed against the front of his shorts in record time.
“Baby,” Jaemin laughs quietly, and presses the other slick finger in, giving Donghyuck no time to adjust. “You’re so easy.”
Donghyuck needs Jaemin to stop talking, so that he can focus on the way Jaemin pushes his fingers deeper, a little rough, until Donghyuck can feel the ache, the stretch of his long fingers inside of him.
“ Mmmuh,” he moans.
“Feels good?” Jaemin coos and curls his fingers knowingly, rubbing his fingertips against that spot inside until Donghyuck’s vision gets hazy at the edges. “Yeah, it does, I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”
Donghyuck shudders, caught up in the sensations.
“Put it in,” he gasps.
“Already?” Jaemin sounds ecstatic behind him, the smug bastard. “You’re still so tight.”
“I can– Do it,” Donghyuck stutters out, valiantly working through the way Jaemin starts to scissor his fingers inside him, slow and intentional, stopping him from coherent speech.
“Look how eager you are,” Jaemin hums, “you really asked me to come over so that I could fuck you, isn’t it?”
Donghyuck pants, leaning his body forward, until he can rest his forehead on his hands on the counter, exposing more of his hole to Jaemin and his fingers.
“Say it, baby, don’t be shy,” Jaemin goads. “Say ‘please fuck me, Jaeminnie, I need your cock’, and I’ll think about it.”
Donghyuck’s face burns.
“Please,” he drags out of his throat.
Jaemin hums disapprovingly. “Try again, baby. I don’t think you really want it.”
“ Fuck you.”
“Now that’s definitely not the right thing to say,” Jaemin says cheerily, and pulls his fingers out only to add a third- a drier slide, but it just makes Donghyuck harder.
If the dick wasn’t so fucking good, Donghyuck would have killed this psychopath a long time ago.
Instead, Jaemin quickens the pace, his knuckles catching on Donghyuck’s rim every time he drags his fingers out before pushing them right back in again, sending shocks of pleasure up Donghyuck’s spine.
“Please,” he grits out. “Fuck me.”
Jaemin grabs at his asscheeks with his other hand, spreading him obscenely, like he wants to see what he’s doing to Donghyuck.
“Say it again,” he croons. “Tell me what you want.”
Donghyuck pants into his hands, summoning the courage to put down his pride for the sake of getting dicked down.
“Want me to stretch out your needy little hole? Fuck you silly, fill you up over and over?” Each word is accentuated with a mean twist of Jaemin’s fingers, making Donghyuck arch his back into it, moaning against his will. “I already know you’re greedy for my cock, honey, come on.”
“I need it,” Donghyuck whines into his hands, so flushed he can feel it in his fucking hairline. “Please. I– I need your cock.”
“Yay,” Jaemin preens, and finally, finally pulls his fingers out of him.
Yay? This fuck.
Donghyuck feels his cheeks burning still, as Jaemin shifts behind him, the sound of his jeans getting unzipped and dragged down.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for Donghyuck’s answer to push up inside of him in one long thrust. Donghyuck moans so loud he hears it echo around the room.
Jaemin draws back and fills him again, and again, letting Donghyuck feel every familiar ridge of his cock against his walls, pressing insistently tight inside him.
“Is this what you wanted?” Jaemin leans over him, his breath hot on Donghyuck’s skin. “Everything you’ve been dreaming of?”
Donghyuck whines, and feels Jaemin straighten up again to fuck him better, hips slapping against his, one hand gripping into the meat of his ass to hold him steady.
The olive oil really isn’t much of a lubricant, because he feels Jaemin’s cock a little too intensely, dragging inside him with pain-pleasure sparks, but it doesn’t stop Jaemin from rolling his hips into him hard and deep, so deep Donghyuck feels it behind the skin of his belly, at the back of his throat. If Jaemin slowed down, Donghyuck would probably cry.
So he lets Jaemin keep at it, nailing his prostate on each long stroke while he drools into the back of his hands, where they’re still holding onto the counter for dear life, knuckles whitened.
“So good,” Jaemin says, the cutesy tone finally disappearing into the usual gravel-low grunt that makes Donghyuck’s stomach clench. He digs his fingers harder into Donghyuck’s skin, pulling to the side to expose more of Donghyuck’s hole to the chill of the air. “Look at your pink little hole, begging for my come.”
“Oh my god,” Donghyuck shakes out, dizzy. “Give it to me.”
“You first.” Jaemin reaches over to pull the front of Donghyuck’s shorts down, letting his cock out. Donghyuck mewls as he wraps his fingers around it, then strokes up, from the base of Donghyuck’s cock to the tip, pressing a thumb into his slit, before moving back down his length, his grip mean and tight. “Won’t take long, will it, baby? Since you’re stuffed nice and full. Let me see it.”
Donghyuck keens. He revels in the way Jaemin’s hand is hot on his cock while he gets fucked, Jaemin giving it so good he feels like he’s losing his mind, the pleasure a constant rising wave spreading over him. It’s easy to give in.
Jaemin makes a pleased sound when Donghyuck comes, staining the counter and the cupboard doors with long streaks of white.
“That’s my boy,” Donghyuck hears him say through the buzzing in his ears. “So good for me.”
Donghyuck keeps still as well as he can, feeling the way Jaemin keeps going, fucking him harder now, pounding him through the aftershocks of his own orgasm, like electric shocks all up his spine. He can hear his own little breathless whimpers with each thrust, and he knows Jaemin hears it too, because he groans, rubbing his thumbs into Donghyuck’s skin like a praise.
When Jaemin comes, he buries himself deep. Donghyuck feels the pulses inside him, working in and out of his hole with long rolls of Jaemin’s hips, and whines.
“Mm, I know,” Jaemin grunts. He holds Donghyuck’s hips up as he pulls out slowly, making sure Donghyuck doesn’t fall to the ground like he wants to do.
Donghyuck feels a little bit of Jaemin’s cum slip down the top of his thighs and winces. When he finally straightens up, his back aches.
“Hurts,” he complains.
“Never a moment of peace with you,” Jaemin says, and finally turns him around, where they can see each other. He pulls Donghyuck’s shorts up for him, his own jeans already buttoned. “Give it a rest.”
Donghyuck doesn’t reply, which is his way of giving in, and lets Jaemin pull him closer to wind his arms around him and massage his back.
“So,” Jaemin smiles, “that olive oil has definitely been useful.”
“Yuck,” Donghyuck says, just to be contrary, but he can’t help the twitching of his lips.
“Not convinced?” Jaemin replies, teasing.
“Not yet,” Donghyuck says, just to watch Jaemin’s eyes darken.
“You’re insatiable,” Jaemin says, and Donghyuck shivers at the promising tone in his voice. “How lucky for you that so am I.”