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It’s just a rollercoaster, Youngjae thinks to himself, staring up at the large attraction’s welcoming sign.
“THE ANNIHILATOR,” it read in gargantuan neon green lettering, popping off the eggplant purple background. He couldn’t help but gulp as he watched a car being pulled up the first large hill of the coaster. He can’t even hide his visible flinching as he sees the car drop off the hill and plunge to certain death down the track, building up momentum to complete the intense combinations of corkscrews and loops.
“You gonna be ok,” Jaebum asks, muffled by the cotton candy sticking out of his mouth. The elder takes another bite, completely obscuring his next set of words into a jumble of nonsense and mumbling.
“What Jaebum is trying to say is,” Jinyoung sighs, “Do you even want to stand in line with us? Or do you want to wait down here?” He leans over to take a look at the line, trying to figure out how long it is, before turning around to face Youngjae again. “It doesn’t seem like it’s too long of a wait, 30 minutes at most!”
Youngjae tries, he really does, to keep his sigh of relief understated, but he can’t help all the nervous energy slipping out of his body with his breath, and he nods gratefully before slipping away to a nearby bench. He takes a second to get comfortable before taking out his phone to check the time—12:42pm. He sets a timer for thirty minutes just to rub it in Jinyoung’s face if the wait ends up being longer.
Just as he’s settled into playing a game on his phone, he’s disrupted by a high pitched shriek coming from the side.
“MARK YOU DIDN’T TELL ME IT WOULD BE THIS BIG,” the voice yells.
Mustering up all the spy-energy he has, Youngjae raises his head to peer nonchalantly over the hedges the bench is sat under. There are four other young men who look to be about his age, two laughing at the one screaming, and one tugging half-heartedly at the screamer.
“Jackson, you said you would stand with us in line for all the roller coasters.”
“I didn’t mean THIS one,” the screamer, Jackson, yells back at his friend and Youngjae wants to launch himself over the hedges this guy is so cute.
“We can’t just leave you alone Jackson, you get lost so easily. We’d spend the rest of the day trying to find you,” one of the boys who was laughing, Youngjae recognizes, whines at Jackson.
Jackson huffs, crossing his arms over his chest before sniffing hautily, “I do not get lost easily. You guys are just slow and can’t keep up with me.”
The other three sigh, and Youngjae can’t help the soft smile that dances across his face.
“Look,” one of them starts, “the wait is only supposed to be thirty minutes, we’ll be back before he can get too far. The more we wait the longer the line gets.”
Jackson smiles a bit too triumphantly, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll be on those benches over there but if you need me, you know how to call me.”
Youngjae watches in horror as he skips away from his friends towards the cluster of benches where he is sitting.
SHIT, he thinks to himself, act natural, act natural. Picking up his phone again, he tries to resume his game until he sees a pair of really nice combat boots in his line of sight. Looking up, he sees that this Jackson guy is cuter up close than he is far away and Youngjae wishes for the first time that day that he would’ve picked a better outfit when he got dressed that morning.
“Hi,” Jackson chirps, pointing at the empty seat next to Youngjae on the bench, “Can I sit with you?”
The poor boy nods silently, scooting over an inch so he has enough room to sit. Jackson giggles happily, sitting down before grinning at Youngjae. So this is what the sun looks like up close, Youngjae thinks to himself.
“My name is Jackson, what’s your name,” He asks, punctuating with a smile.
According to Youngjae, he melted right through the wooden slats of their shared bench.
“Youngjae. My name is Youngjae.”
The two shake hands, and Youngjae can’t help but idly think about what Jackson’s hands would feel like wrapped around…other places, before shaking his head and smiling back at the boy. He doesn’t catch the slight blush dyeing Jackson’s cheeks.
“So,” Jackson starts, “Do you hate roller coasters too?”
---
He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Youngjae’s words had a habit of slipping through the filter of his lips. The two of them had bonded fairly quickly over their mutual hatred of all things roller coasters, when Youngjae let it slip that “I’d much rather ride you instead.”
Though, in retrospect, he always had been fairly lucky. Like that time he had won that radio contest for tickets to his favorite artist’s concert. Or maybe that time he forgot to study a chapter on his Biology final and it wasn’t even on the exam. He could add this to his list: making out with the hottest stranger he’d ever seen in his life in an amusement park bathroom.
If this doesn’t end weird, he muses to himself, I’m gonna have to ask him what lip balm he uses.
An embarrassingly loud moan from Youngjae echoes on the tile walls of the bathroom, and Jackson swears his boner is going to pop the button right off his pants. His hands are under Youngjae’s shirt, trickling over his skin and raising his body temperature. He doesn’t know how Jackson pulls it off—effortlessly undoing Youngjae’s belt and pants and tugging them down before Youngjae even notices.
A gasp falls out of Youngjae’s mouth like a sack of flour. Jackson looks up at Youngjae’s face, concern etched into his eyebrows.
“Is this ok,” He asks, already backing away and tugging Youngjae’s pants back up, “I guess I got carried away…”
“No,” Youngjae interrupts, “I mean—Yes, it’s ok! I just—Fuck! How did you do that so fast?”
The toothy grin Jackson gives him is almost diabolical, but it’s soaked in too much excitement to be malicious.
“What if you give me your number after this and I show you some other time?”
Everything seems to stop. All they can hear is their own heartbeat and the other panting. They’re staring at each other, Youngjae looking down at Jackson’s big eyes and promptly choking on his breath as he sees how bad Jackson wants this. Maybe his eyes look that desperate too. But he realizes in that second, frozen in time, that he wants this too. And he wants it bad.
“I would love that,” he pants, and Jackson looks like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin as he yanks Youngjae’s boxers down with his pants.
If Youngjae thought Jackson’s lips were soft against his own, he almost cums the moment they wrap around his cock. They’re big and plush and his mouth and his hand are working in tandem so fast Youngjae doesn’t even believe this is actually happening.
This has to be a dream, he thinks, I’m going to wake up any second now and have a painful boner and I’ll have to start the day by jerking off. It’s only when Jackson hums loudly around the head of Youngjae’s cock, drops his hand to Youngjae’s balls and gives them a light squeeze that Youngjae realizes this is definitely not a dream.
Both of their moans are reverberating around the bathroom and Youngjae doesn’t know what he’s more surprised by—the fact that no one has walked in on them yet or the fact that he doesn’t care if anyone did. All he cares about is Jackson’s mouth and his hands and how he’s going to get the guy off after this.
He lasts less than he wants to, but doesn’t feel too embarrassed with the sound of “some other time” still echoing in his ears. Jackson has barely finished swallowing before Youngjae is pulling up his boxers and helping Jackson to his feet.
It’s the first time either one of them have wished for a national holiday for sweatpants, but as Youngjae pulls down Jackson’s pants they both suddenly want to throw the easy garment a fucking parade. Getting a good look at Jackson’s dick, Youngjae once again opens his big mouth.
“Seriously dude? Even your cock is pretty?”
There is somehow enough blood in Jackson’s body to both turn his full face a bright red and for his dick to get harder in Youngjae’s hand.
“Just hurry up and suck my dick,” Jackson mumbles, looking away in embarrassment.
He can feel the puffs of hot air wrapping like smoke around the head of his cock, Youngjae’s mouth wide open and about to begin, when an obnoxious ringtone shatters the atmosphere, filling up the bathroom. Youngjae retrieves his phone from his pocket and turns off the alarm before looking back up to Jackson’s face.
“My friends should be off the coaster by now,” he shrugs, “we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
With a shaky nod from Jackson, Youngjae delivers what he calls, “The Most Efficient Blow Job of His Life.” He’s got a mouth and hand full of Jackson’s dick, while the other hand is playing with his balls. He can hear Jackson’s breathing hitch a few times before hears one ragged command from the boy standing up: “Stick a finger up my ass.”
He chokes, not on the dick in his mouth but by the sheer fact that he met his veritable Dream Man commiserating on an amusement park bench about how much roller coasters suck. And not one to leave a partner hanging, Youngjae lets go of Jackson’s cock with a lewd popping noise, before placing his index finger in his mouth and coating it with as much spit as he can.
“Holy shit,” Jackson whispers above him, breathing shallow and eyelids heavy.
Youngjae resumes his work with renewed vigor, reattaching his mouth as he slips his hand even further than before. At this point, there’s too many sensations for Jackson: Youngjae’s mouth and hand are moving fast and the finger in his ass is moving slow. Somehow Youngjae has gotten fingers gently fondling Jackson’s balls, too.
How is he fucking doing this, Jackson thinks to himself desperately.
With a swipe of Youngjae’s tongue around the head of his penis, Jackson cums with a loud moan, and Youngjae can’t help but be proud of himself.
Gently, Youngjae tucks Jackson into his boxer briefs, and stands up stiffly to put his pants back on. Grabbing a couple of squares of toilet paper, Youngjae begins blotting his face and neck, before turning back around to see Jackson still leaning against the bathroom wall with his pants down.
“Dude,” Youngjae starts, “Are you okay?”
The glazed over look on Jackson’s face fizzles away before he fixes his gaze on Youngjae.
“How dare you give me a religious experience of a blowjob and then ask if I’m okay?”
There’s so much blood rushing to Youngjae’s face he almost passes out, and he feels his fingers itching to take out his phone and start asking for Jackson’s phone number immediately. Instead, he opts to fidget with the lock of the handicapped stall they’ve locked themselves into, snapping it open and shut absentmindedly as Jackson fixes his pants.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Jackson mumbles, “give me your phone number. I get it.”
Youngjae practically falls out of the stall (whose door had been toggled to unlocked) as he lets out an embarrassing shriek of indignation.
“Of course I want it,” he argues, righting his balance from his fall, “I just didn’t want you to think I was desperate by asking you for it while your dick was still in my mouth!”
They both end up tumbling out of the bathroom in laughter, holding onto each other for support as their eyes get too clouded with tears to see straight. When they finally get it together, Youngjae finds that Jackson’s phone is lighter than it looks in his hand as he types in his phone number.
“Make sure you text me,” he says, trying to scold Jackson.
“Oh that won’t be a problem,” Jackson responds, smug smile plastered on his face, “Just make sure you text me back!”
Youngjae’s laugh is loud and lively and Jackson finds himself wishing he had it as a ringtone.
They spot their respective groups of friends and say goodbye, not before Youngjae sneaks a kiss onto Jackson’s cheek.
As he catches up to his friends, Youngjae can see the maternal look of annoyance carved into Jinyoung’s face like it was sculpted out of clay. Jaebum somehow already has another stick of cotton candy in his hand and sticking out of his mouth.
“Where have you been,” Jinyoung scolds, grabbing Youngjae by the ear.
“Hey Youngjae,” Jaebum grumbles, “What’s that on your chin?”
As of 1:21pm that day, Youngjae has never felt so mortified in his life.