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Honestly, when Donghyuck first met Jisung, he thought the whole shy, naive kid thing was an act.
The piercings, the long black hair and dark clothes, all that talk of oh, you wouldn’t know this band, they’re kinda underground, it’s all the perfect image for someone that gets around –if they happened to look like Jisung, of course. He couldn’t possibly look like that, and still be this fucking naive.
But two months into this whole thing, Donghyuck quickly has come to learn that yes. Yes, he simply is that cute and innocent, and he’ll let Donghyuck grab him by the wrist through the bookshelves, to where the dust rains down on you in spotted clouds and the lights flicker every so often like they forget they’re supposed to work.
“Um, didn’t you say that your paper was on media censorship in the 1960s?”
Rounding one last corner, Donghyuck finds the perfect spot; the sixth floor is already an abandoned place to begin with, but so early into the semester and in the middle of a Tuesday, the few stragglers mingling around would have to put in the actual effort to find them.
Donghyuck hums, uninterested, turning around to lean on the heavy wood of the shelves, shifting a few books back with his weight. Jisung’s hair is getting long, bangs brushing the very tops of his eyelids, blinking his eyes every so often when his ends poke between his lashes. “Hyuck,” he blinks again, slowly like a cat, “this is the classical languages section.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Donghyuck mumbles, distracted, too busy watching the piercings glint in the warm artificial light as Jisung’s sweet face twists in confusion. “Come ‘ere.”
Pulling him by the wrist, Jisung stumbles into him, pressing him further into the shelves. He makes a confused sound into the seal of their lips once Donghyuck goes up to meet his mouth, clumsy and at full force. He can’t help it, really; he’s always been somewhat of an eager kisser, a whiny and demanding one, but there’s just something about Jisung, of the polite way he always, always, tries to kiss him at first. Donghyuck likes seeing him lose his sanity slowly, feeling the way his big hands start to roam his body –shy at first, possessive by the second as they clutch him closer– and all Donghyuck has to do is take. He hears, only faintly, the way Jisung drops both their bags to the floor, falling with a thud by their feet. It’s lost, anyway, between the slick sounds of their lips meeting, interrupted only by the little choked breaths Jisung lets out every time Donghyuck nips at his lips. He’s quiet usually, specially when Donghyuck manages to corner him in places they can easily be found in, but a quiet gasp is enough for Donghyuck to press his tongue into his mouth, to brush right against the metal head of the tongue piercing that has haunted every waking second of his life since they met.
Jisung’s hands make a slow trail from his shoulders to wrap around his waist, and they’re so big Donghyuck can feel when the fingertips meet just so on his lower back, as Jisung pulls him closer. He’s still trying to be kind of sweet with it, his hands never straying from his middle, just letting Donghyuck slobber up on his mouth like it’s the polite thing to do, to open his mouth so he can whine into the warm cavern of it and suck on his tongue, clink his teeth with the piercing and feel it to the very tips of his fingers.
Then Donghyuck moans his name, quietly, every syllable rolling off his tongue like burnt sugar, and it makes Jisung twitch, full body. One of his hands drops to Donghyuck’s thighs, squeezing hard like it had taken everything within him to resist it, the other pressing Donghyuck to the shelves as if he had anywhere else to go, wood digging painfully into his shoulderblades.
By the time Donghyuck is half-hard and sweating, with one of Jisung’s hands inside his shirt, he’s made up his mind that he needs him now.
“You should,” he starts, pauses, gulping in air when Jisung slides a swollen mouth to the hinge of his jaw. “You should take me to your dorm.”
Jisung freezes for a second, standing straight so he can look right into his eyes. He towers right over him, tall and wide, and yet his hands are gentle and his eyes are sweet when he starts nodding, the corner of his red lips lifting into a shy smile. “Yeah, of course.”
No one looks up at them as they emerge from the depths of the library, just like Donghyuck knew they wouldn’t. He sort of wishes they had, with the way Jisung has their entwined hands swinging between their bodies as he leads the way to the elevators, back on the ground floor and out into the campus. Despite the slight chill in the air the sun blinds him momentarily as they make their way to Jisung’s dorm, huddling closer to Jisung in his longsleeved shirt for comfort. He figured a while ago that Jisung loves it when he does that, the whole sweet, needy act, and it sends a thrill down his spine every single time it makes Jisung stand taller, grip him tighter.
They are not dating. Donghyuck has to remind himself that even though Jisung has been lovely –a gentleman, really– they are not dating. It’s hard to remember, with all the hand holding and hanging out and sneaking off to make out in random corners, hard because they’ve known each other for years now, and now he also knows how to make him whimper, what to do to leave him breathless.
What he really means to say is that they’re not dating, yet. For now, he’s got Jisung right where he wants him.
He’s only been to Jisung’s dorm a handful of times, much preferring his own apartment off-campus, but it’s familiar nonetheless. When Jisung opens the door he’s greeted by the Oasis poster that has featured in one too many selfies, the cluttered desk but otherwise neat contents, not even a shirt on the ground, the familiar bomber jacket hangs on the back of the desk chair. Once the door closes quietly behind them, Jisung goes all quiet and bashful again, fidgeting with the earrings on his left ear a little bit as Donghyuck steps into the room as if it were his own, as he goes and makes himself comfortable on the bed. The duvet is a dark navy blue, but it smells like detergent and the woody cologne Jisung is partial to, and that stirs something inside of him again. He stretches his limbs wide, arching just a bit because he’s a tease like that, sighing softly as the tension is released. “You’re gonna help me? Or should I just deal with it myself while you watch?”
Jisung bites his lips as if the idea is tempting, but ends up dropping their bags by the door before walking over, eyes still stuck on his prone form. He steps out of his shoes once he reaches the bed, and then tenderly does the same for Donghyuck, who had just carelessly climbed into the bed with no thought at all, setting them together on the floor neatly. It makes him go all warm in the middle again, that tender feeling that almost constantly aches with Jisung, but he valiantly ignores it, instead watching as Jisung finally climbs over him, making a space for himself on the bed in between his parted thighs. The v of his legs looks lovely around Jisung’s hips, and he tightens his legs just to watch his breath stutter, using them to pull him closer. Jisung falls right into him, hips cradled together, palms planted by the pillow, held aloft and just… watching.
“You look really pretty today.”
Despite his best efforts, Donghyuck feels his face flush slightly, dropping his eyes to a less intimidating place, Jisung’s shoulder. He’s used to flirting and compliments, but Jisung has the knack of having his words seem so painfully honest, it’s actually embarrassing.
“Just today?”
Jisung shakes his head, leaning down until they are pressed all along their fronts. Previously softened from their walk, Donghyuck feels himself twitch in his jeans again, overly aware of every single point of contact, from their thighs to hips to chest, to the very tips of Jisung’s hair tickling his warm cheeks. “All the time,” Jisung mumbles, but it gets lost as their mouths crash together once again, soft only for a short breath before it picks up right where it had left off in the library. Donghyuck, unlike the man on top of him, is greedy. He lets his hands run over Jisung slowly, luxuriating on every crease and bump. First running his fingers softly over the bars on Jisung’s right eyebrow, pushing his hair off and following his skull until he can tug at the earrings running over the shell of Jisung’s ears, down to his neck, shoulders, everything wide and sturdy beneath his touch. His hands slip underneath Jisung’s in seconds, following the planes of his chest first and then, inevitably, falling to the firm muscles of his abdomen, really feeling the groove of each muscle one by one.
“I don’t get it,” he whispers against wet lips, words jumbled because they can’t be bothered to stop kissing for just a second, “you don’t even train, how do you have abs?”
Jisung pouts, short-lived once Donghyuck runs his nails down his abs slowly, shuddering as Donghyuck draws ten red lines down his body, down until his fingertips get to toy with the edge of his jeans, slipping just so beneath the hem.
“I train,” he protests weakly, becoming distracted as Donghyuck’s hands continue to tease at him, climbing back up until he gets to pinch a nipple, short and fast. “Sometimes, I train.”
His mouth is small, cute, devious as it makes its way to his neck, following the short path to the collarbones, his big hands sneaking beneath his shirt, too. He’s bolder behind closed doors, not waiting to drag it up his body and right off him to throw it to the floor. He drops down once again to drag his wet mouth down, ignoring his chest altogether so he can leave a bite mark on the soft skin next to his bellybutton, sucking on the mouthful tightly before letting go with a loud pop! Jisung always makes him properly flustered, with such an intense focus in the randomest parts of himself; he’s found bites and bruises behind his knees, and on his forearms, just because Jisung likes to get lost in the crevices of his body. Every minute stretches into what feels like hours as Jisung drags teeth, his tongue, butterfly kisses down his torso. When he finally sucks a nipple into his mouth, it’s the first rough, greedy thing Jisung has done at all today; he sucks, then pulls the bud tight with his teeth, and Donghyuck watches it all through lidded eyes, letting out these sweet little moans as his fingers try to grip onto something, first the duvet, and then finding the long hair at the back of Jisung’s skull again. He gets a good grip on the soft strands and pulls, bringing his mouth up again, reaching for his mouth blindly.
He’s kissed so many people –drunk, sober, in love and even desperate– and nothing yet has been able to compare to the way it feels to kiss Jisung.
The metal in his mouth is hot and wet, clinking against the back of a molar when Jisung presses in; it’s off-center and too wet, he can feel the drool starting to form at the corners of his mouth. He’s addicted to the feeling of metal dragging against the roof of his mouth when Jisung pulls back, just a second, to kiss him again, the slick sounds they make as they pull apart only to chase back in immediately, the idea of being gone too long seems painful at the moment. Their tongues twirl together, and there’s no finesse to it, just a mess of wet heat as Donghyuck chases that warmth over and over again, ignoring the twinging at his jaw from how long they’ve been doing this.
His hips cant up against the tight body above him, seeking any sort of relief, delicious friction even in the confines of his jeans. As if he’s just been reminded that he’s hard, too, Jisung presses back, soft at first, until it picks up in between kisses and cut-off breaths, and a thrust manages to pick up Donghyuck’s lower half.
“Off, off, take this off,” he pants against bruised lips, fingers clumsily working on the studded belt holding Jisung’s jeans –just for show, as they always sag tantalizingly low on his slim hips every damn time– their fingers tangling as Jisung blindly follows. He tugs it all down, making sure to look down between their bodies so he can watch the way Jisung’s cock springs up from his underwear, pink and wet, the irritated tip reaching up to his bellybutton. He stares, and keeps staring, acutely aware of how badly it embarrasses Jisung, and doing it precisely because of it. And then those same fingers, shaking, he realizes, fall to the fly of his jeans, slowly opening them, hesitating to pull them down as if Donghyuck would ever be crazy enough to tell him to stop right now. Jisung peels his clothes off as if carefully opening a present, his eyes tracing as smooth skin is revealed, pulling it all off before dropping them to the floor. He grabs Donghyuck’s thighs, his wide palms and long fingers encompassing the width, and then squeezes tightly, until the skin turns white between his fingers. This is… not really new, to Donghyuck at least. Jisung probably thinks he’s being subtle and normal about how much he likes his legs, but he’s always dropping a possessive palm on them whenever he can. Donghyuck has gone out to buy more ripped jeans, if only because Jisung can’t resist but to seek out the warm skin and caress it, playing with it absentmindedly while talking to their friends, as if it doesn’t drive Donghyuck fucking crazy.
Before he can say anything, probably to tell him to hurry up for what feels like the hundredth time, Jisung curves his chest down between his open legs, so his head fits perfectly in the space made just for him. His hands slide down, slow, until he can get a good grip to bring them up and squeeze his head between them. He looks blissfully stupid with it, tilting so he can drop wet little kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. The first bite, he lays it quite high on his inner thigh, dangerously close to where legs meet his crotch, just a small nip. The next one drops low, to where his leg is thickest and softest, and Jisung takes a mouthful like he could eat him right up. It stings, enough to have his eyes squeezing shut and his legs trying to close tight, running away from it. When Jisung finally lets go, the marks of his teeth shine prettily around the red skin, looking like a brand. If Donghyuck could get it tattooed to look just like that, he stupidly thinks he would.
“Jisung,” he calls, softly, as Jisung continues to nose at the soft skin of his thighs. He seems so lost in his body, so gone. “Jisung, you can fuck ‘em, if you want.”
That, finally, gives Jisung pause. He looks up, to blink those big doe eyes at him, dark pupils blown. His hands try to close into fists, then relax, like they’ve just realized they’re still holding his legs tight enough to bruise. “You mean…”
“My thighs,” Donghyuck clarifies. “You can fuck my thighs.”
Air rushes out of Jisung in a gust, as if the words punched the breath right out of him, and he’s nodding before his mouth even catches up to his body. “Yes, please.”
He’s crawling up without Donghyuck even needing to tell him, long arms stretching easily to his bedside table, where he knows there’s a bottle of lube that’s seen better days. When he returns, Jisung sits on his haunches, looking equal parts lost and excited. “Um, h-how do we…?”
He’s flushed and pink all the way from his cheeks to his shoulders, with his cock so hard it’s sticking to his navel, and he has the gall to look shy. Fucking incredible, Donghyuck likes him terribly. Excruciatingly, enough that a delirious little giggle escapes him.
“Dunno. How do you want me?”
It seems to soften the need in Jisung’s face to something lovelier, tender, as he crawls closer still, draping his body over Donghyuck again. The size difference never seems so obvious until moments like this, where Jisung feels so broad and encompassing, Donghyuck can’t look at anything past him. He presses his lips to Donghyuck’s cheeks, hardly there. “I want to see you. All the time.”
He doesn't know what to say for a moment. When he says things so honestly, it more often than not renders him too embarrassed to speak. When he finally does, his voice comes out too quiet, with Jisung still pressing feather light kisses to his face. “Sap,” he mumbles, as four quick kisses fall on the constellation of moles on his cheek. “Hurry up, then.”
One last kiss, then Jisung is righting himself up again. The bottle of lube looks comically small in his wide hands as he fumbles with the lid, popping it over. He only hesitates for a second before deciding that the smartest thing to do is dump a stupid amount of lube directly on Donghyuck’s thigh, cold as it drips down the inseam of his crotch, to the perineum, getting everything slick. The bottle gets discarded carelessly, Jisung more focused on gathering the slick between his legs and rubbing it thoroughly everywhere he can reach, making sure to coat everything evenly. He gets distracted again, his fingers massaging the muscle and fat there so well Donghyuck can only hiss, a painful sigh escaping him when his knuckles bump against the base of his hard-on every so often. Part of him wants to tell Jisung to get on with it, but he mostly feels overwhelmed, with so much focus on him, on his body, like Jisung couldn’t keep away even if he tried.
He’s not sure how long it takes for Jisung to feel satisfied in his ministrations, but when he cracks an eye open once the hands retreat his body, it’s to find Jisung coating himself with what remains on his hand; it’s a perfunctory touch, with his eyes still dark and heavy on Donghyuck’s body, making him flash hotly all over again. And then the hand is dropping his cock, letting it hang heavy as Jisung adjusts himself on his knees, grounding the balance of his body. “Okay, I’m just going to…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead grabbing at Donghyuck and moving him around like a damn doll. His legs get lifted and pressed together, until Jisung arranges him just so –he ends up with them crossed one over the other, then placed against Jisung’s chest, calves going over his shoulder. It’s a dizzying sight; their bodies contrast beautifully, all that tan against Jisung’s paler tone, all the hard muscles of his body against the softness of Donghyuck’s legs.
“Is that okay?” Jisung asks once he finally settles, looking at Donghyuck with wide eyes, as if Donghycuk wasn’t stuck trying to regulate his breathing –too fast and hard even though they haven’t even started, pulled so tight. He nods anyway, sighs a soft yes, yes, come on.
With his right hand holding Donghyuck tightly, his left one goes to grab his cock, and the first press of the wet tip of his cock makes him jolt just a little. The’ve fucked before, but somehow this feels just as exhilarating and dirty, to use every part of his body for Jisung’s pleasure. Then Jisung presses in, sliding between his legs with no issue or resistance. Donghyuck can’t decide what he wants to look at more, if the blissful flutter of Jisung’s lashes, or the length of his cock appearing from between his thighs, until the head of it presses right against his own length, red and wet. It’s nestled so well there, and he can’t look away from how their cocks lay together like that.
“O-oh,” he moans, hands trying to clutch at anything, managing to crumple the duvet between his fingers. It’s a strange sensation, feeling wet between his legs, with something hard and pulsing trying to open them up. Much like when Jisung is inside him, he can feel each twitch, each time it thrums with rushing blood between his legs. When he presses them even tighter, it must feel good, because Jisung folds just a bit as his head hangs heavy between his shoulders, mouth gasping open –the light catches on the ball of his tongue piercing– his hips stuttering into the tight clutch of his legs. He whimpers, outright whimpers, all sweet and needy.
“How does it feel?”
Jisung pulls out again, completely, then presses in so suddenly and forcefully Donghyuck gets lifted from the mattress again. He can’t look away from how Jisung’s cock drags against Donghyuck’s balls and cock, as he starts picking up a pace that has them both panting.
“It feels… different,” Jisung says, words rushed and breathless. He’s holding Donghyuck against him with both hands now, ten fingers gripping like they will leave a mark for tomorrow to bear witness. The sight is honestly obscene, with Jisung’s cock relentlessly pushing in between his thighs, the way it drags right against his own hard length in a slippery motion that has soft sounds slipping from his lips without his notice.
“‘S good. Still tight, and hot. I can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”
Donghyuck would let Jisung do far more crazy and embarrassing things, a hundred times over. Saying that out loud feels too vulnerable, so he just sighs, decides to free one of his hands so he can get a good grip around the part of him Jisung’s cock can’t reach. Short jerks of his fist that go in time with Jisung’s hips, so his knuckles bump against the wet tip each time Jisung pushes in, and circles his own wet crown each time he pulls out almost all the way. It’s hard to keep his legs so tense, because it feels so good all he wants to do is melt back into the sheets. He knows when he’s gone all relaxed when Jisung’s grip goes tighter, because he’s too damn sweet to tell Donghyuck to keep up with him. But he wants to, wants to make Jisung feel good when something as simple as this looks like it’s driving him insane.
“Jisung, come here, wanna kiss you,” he asks, and Jisung does as he’s told so easily. Donghyuck gets folded in half ridiculously easy, always so pliant in Jisung’s hands. It’s harder to breathe like this, with so much weight falling on his chest at this angle, but he doesn’t mind, instead craves that proximity, wishes to be closer still.
Jisung kisses him almost sweetly at first, closed mouth and short. He pulls apart, the smallest inch, and presses back in all wet and open mouthed, using his tongue to pry Donghyuck’s mouth open, his piercing running against the roof of Donghyuck’s mouth, ripping a moan right out of him, and Jisung takes it, takes all of him. This angle is probably better, because his thrusts start getting faster, slamming harder until their bodies start making a loud clap each time they meet and the bed starts making a distressing squeak. Like this he can’t move his hand too well –their bodies are pressed so close he can feel Jisung’s rising chest against his thighs, and they hit his chest with each forceful fuck of his cock against him. He doesn’t really need it anyway, gripping the weeping head tightly and letting the force of Jisung’s hips and his own tight fist to do the work, focused on the wet feel of Jisung’s cock against his.
“Want you to come,” Donghyuck pants in between a kiss, words slurred and jumbled; he can’t even talk properly, all the breath in his lungs saved for the embarrassing noises Jisung pushes out of him. “Baby, wanna feel you come all over me.”
Jisung groans something pained, kissing Donghyuck so hard his lips bruise painfully against his teeth. “Yeah?” he asks desperately, unable to say more as his tongue chases all the flavour right out of Donghyuck’s mouth. “Hyuck, really?”
“Fuck your come right between my thighs, on my cock,” Donghyuck mewls, lewd even to his own ears. “I’ll come, too, and when you lick it off you won’t even know what’s yours or mine.”
Jisung moans his name, deliciously broken, pace picking up until each slam of his pelvis stings, pushing Donghyuck’s body higher and higher on the sheets. His whole body shudders as his orgasm hits him, his come making the last few thrusts even easier as it gets pushed between the plush of his thighs and helps with the slide of his cock between them, a few stray drops falling on Donghyuck’s cock, his fist. He’s shivering in Donghyuck’s arms, his whole body held in a tight knot as Donghyuck whispers things to him, deliriously disgusting and sappy things like you were so good, baby, and I’m so wet now, and it’s all for you, huh? And Jisung, high on endorphins as he is, nods against his lips, mouth moving though no words come out. He’s still not lucid enough when he unsticks from Donghyuck, cock still hard as it falls from Donghyuck’s legs. Jisung drops them carefully, and it’s only then Donghyuck can look at the mess he’s made out of him; sweaty, pink all over, with teeth marks already starting to bloom purple and red across his body, following no rhythm or pattern at all. His legs fall open, no strength left in them after keeping them clenched and tense for so long. His thigh definitely got the worst of it, still shiny with lube, except for the spots growing tacky with Jisung’s come –spread thin, giving him random dry spots right between it all.
Then Jisung drops between his parted legs; he’s too coordinated for Donghyuck’s liking, but he’s pushing his legs open, grabbing at Donghyuck’s wrist so he’ll drop his dick, still held tightly, still hard. Then, just like before, brings his thighs around his neck like a pretty necklace. His eyes are dazed, and amongst all the movement and manhandling, Donghyuck spots it, just the smallest smirk before he opens wide and pulls Donghyuck’s cock into his mouth.
Warm, wet, immediately too fucking much. Donghyuck yelps, and that easily melts into an incoherent moan as Jisung starts bobbing his head, not too slow or too fast, just like he knows Donghyuck likes it. He’s got a small mouth, Jisung does, and it presses his pierced tongue right against the vein that follows his length, a maddening pressure.
“Fuck, please, just like that!” He says it loud, too damn loud, probably Jisung’s neighbors can hear it, can listen to the wet slurping sounds Jisung’s mouth makes as he sucks him tight. He presses in too far –he’s not good at deepthroating, but he always tries anyway– and it’s only a few seconds of Donghyuck’s cock pressed at the back of his throat before he’s gagging, pulling off to cough into Donghyuck’s thighs, still wrapped around him.
It takes a few seconds, but he stops coughing, and uses his fist to lift Donghyuck’s wet cock again, pressing a loving kiss to the tip. “You can come in my mouth, if you wanna,” Jisung announces in a raspy voice, and before Donghyuck can say anything he’s going down once again. More cautious this time with not hitting the back of his throat, instead using that forsaken piercing to tease all of Donghyuck’s most sensitive spots. He loves that damn piece of metal, always red hot to the touch, always hurts when it clicks too hard when they make out, always feels maddeningly smooth as Jisung uses it to run his tongue over him, root to tip, before popping it back in his mouth and sucking hard.
It doesn’t take long for Donghyuck to come, lifting up as much as he can on his elbows so he can take it all in. Hair mussed every which way, eyeliner smudged at the corners, every piercing catching on the dying sunlight as Jisung keeps a tight ring on his cock and lets Donghyuck come in his mouth. He swallows, and Donghyuck watches it through lidded eyes, chest running like he’ll never be able to catch his breath again. They both fall on the bed right there, Donghyuck finally dropping his tired legs so Jisung can lay on the cradle of his pelvis, against a bony hip. He seems to be entirely too happy there, warm breath puffing against the damp skin. Donghyuck’s fingers find themselves in his hair again, it’s really grown so much in the past few months, so silky it slips right through his fingertips. Jisung hums happily, and for a while, they say nothing.
Until Jisung picks himself up so he can crawl higher and drop his full body weight on Donghyuck, heavy as hell. Donghyuck loves it.
“That was nice.” He says, head buried into the sensitive side of Donghyuck’s neck.
“I’m glad.”
“I really like your thighs.”
“Mmm, I know.”
“And hands.”
He sounds so blissful, probably unaware he’s rambling. His chest vibrates with every word, and Donghyuck sighs, settles in happily.
“And lips, and nose, and your moles, and your ankles and knees, even your bitten down nails. Also your elbows.”
A blush is starting to darken Donghyuck’s cheeks again. “I don’t even bite them anymore…”
“I think I just really like you, Hyuck,” Jisung finally sighs, all dreamy, whole body further sagging into Donghyuck. If he dies like this, he’d be very happy to go. “Do you like me?”
“Yeah,” he also likes Jisung’s… everything, too much. His heart is beating hard again, loud in his ears and wrists. “Who else would I like, if not you?”
Jisung doesn’t say anything, but he drops a kiss on Donghyuck’s sweaty skin. It’s mostly teeth, he thinks, must be smiling a lot. So Donghyuck just holds him tight against him, fingers fitting to the knobs of his spine. Who else could it be, if not him?
Jisung is probably nodding off on him like this, sticky and dirty.
It could only be Jisung.