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Chenle was in awe, dumbstruck by the sight before him. He could hardly believe his eyes, his heart hammering against his ribs, watching with an open mouth from the shadowed corner of the set. The studio was a chaos of blinding lights, crisscrossing wires, and crew members scurrying about. But Chenle’s focus remained centered on Jeno and Jaemin.
The two men had been working tirelessly preparing for their unit comeback, spending countless hours a day rehearsing, recording and preparing for the upcoming promotion. Today was the day of their concept photoshoot and Chenle thought it would be nice of him to stop by and surprise his hyungs. He knew practically nothing about what the duo had planned. So you could imagine just how shocked he was to walk in on his fellow NCT member's staring in such an erotic photoshoot.
The set was built to look like an office space, a sleek, modern aesthetic with a cream colored desk, leather chairs, and a floor-to-ceiling window looking out over a digital skyline. Jeno was slumped in one of the chairs, a pair of dark, square rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his tie loose around his neck, and the crisp white dress shirt he wore unbuttoned, exposing the ripples of his toned abdomen. On his lower half he had on only a pair of tight black briefs, the sharp lines of his muscular thighs on display, with matching knee high socks that squeezed nicely around his calves.
Jaemin was bent over the desk in front of him, his backside pushed out, looking back over his shoulder at Jeno with a sultry expression. His attire was similar to Jeno’s, the thin, almost translucent, white button down draped, over his shoulders, unbuttoned, offering a glimpse of his chest and perky, pink nipples. Instead of briefs he had on a tiny black thong, the string tantalizingly disappearing between the globes of his milky toned ass. Chenle’s eyes lingered there, captivated by the curve of Jaemin’s backside, the smooth sweep of it down to his powerful thighs.
His hyungs were never afraid to show off their bodies on stage, but this was something else entirely. It was a side to them he never thought he’d see. A provocative performance of raw sexuality. It was hard to believe SM approved of such a photoshoot.
Chenle felt an odd warmth blossoming in the pit of his stomach, a sudden, an unfamiliar heat that made his skin prickle. His body responded to the scene before him, a slow flush creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears.
“That’s perfect…gorgeous…Jeno open your legs a little for me,” the photographer called out, the shutter of the camera clicking rapidly as he circled the two of them.
Jeno obliged, spreading his thighs apart, the move causing the fabric of his briefs to stretch taut over his prominent bulge.
“Beautiful. And Jaemin, lift the bottom of your shirt up some more…really arch your back,” Jaemin reacted immediately, sliding his shirt up his waist so his rear was fully in view, and then pushed back further, arching to a near impossible degree. His position, combined with the thong, left almost nothing to the imagination confidently displaying his glory for the room to see. The camera whirled and clicked, capturing every angle, every micro-expression. “Hold that…yes…amazing.”
Jeno bit down on the corner of his lip, his eyes fixated on Jaemin, his hand snaking down to cup his crotch, squeezing.
“That’s it. That’s exactly what I want to see boys.”
Chenle swallowed hard. It felt wrong to be watching this, like he was intruding on an intimate moment. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.
Jaemin’s hips began to roll , a slow, hypnotic rhythm that had Chenle’s own breath catching in his throat. He was presenting himself to Jeno, a blatant invitation written in every line of his body. Jeno’s gaze stayed locked on him, dark and hungry, ever so subtlety circling his palm against his crotch, the two men eye fucking each other like no one was watching.
Except Chenle was. And he couldn’t stop. The heat in his stomach spread lower, a coil of warmth tightening in his jeans. He pressed a palm against himself, a jolt of shock going through him at the hardness he found there.
A wave of shame washed over him, hot and sharp, jamming his hand into his pocket as if trying to hide the evidence of his own desire.
He should leave, turn around and walk out of the studio, pretend like he never saw anything. But he was frozen, his feet glued to the floor.
“Alright, Jeno let’s have you stand up behind Jaemin now.” the photographer said. Jeno rose from his chair, his movementd fluid and graceful, positioning himself behind Jaemin and placing his hands flat on the desk either side of him, caging him in.
“Like this?” Jeno asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Chenle’s own chest.
“Perfect, now Jaemin tilt your head back…yeah just like that…look at him.”
Jaemin’s lips were parted, his breath coming in soft pants, his eyes half-lidded as he stared up at Jeno. The photographer circled them, the shutter clicking furiously, capturing the moment from every angle.
“Good…very good. Now Jeno, I want you to lean in, like your whispering something in Jaemin’s ear.” The photographer instructed, the camera clicking away.
Jeno followed instructions, his hips now pressing flush against Jaemin’s ass, his lips mere inches from the shell of his ear. Chenle couldn’t hear what he said, but he saw the effect it had on Jaemin. A shiver wracked Jaemin's body, a visible tremor that started at the base of his spine and traveled up to the nape of his neck. He let out a soft whimper, the sound barely audible over the clicking of the camera, but Chenle heard it. It cut through the noise of the studio, a private, vulnerable sound that was meant only for Jeno.
There bodies began to rock ever so slightly, a gentle grinding motion that had Chenle’s own cock stirring to life. The warmth in his stomach had now blossomed into a full-blown fire, an ache that was both painful and pleasurable. Chenle shifted on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself, the denim of his jeans suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.
"More," the photographer's voice sliced through the charged silence. "Jeno, I want to see more of that hunger."
A jolt went through Chenle at the command. He watched, mesmerized, as Jeno's hand grabbed at Jaemin’s shirt, pulling it off his shoulder, his fingers gliding over his chest in circles. Jaemin’s eyes rolled back, the softest whimper escaping his lips at the contact, pushing his ass back against Jeno with more boldness. Jeno’s other hand slid down Jaemin’s side, coming to rest on the curve of his hip, holding him in place. The grinding became more pronounced, more deliberate, the rhythmic friction of their bodies seemingly in sync with Chenle’s pulse.
Jeno’s lips ever so slightly grazed the flesh of Jaemin’s neck, his hand slidding down his body, landing at his backside, giving his ass a firm squeeze. Jaemin’s body reacted, arching back into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached back to feel Jeno, glidding over his abs, tracing his v line, dangerously close to dipping beneath the waistband of his underwear. It was all too much for Chenle to take in, the intensity, the passion, the sheer audacity of it all. He felt like he was burning from the inside out.
"That's a wrap on this setup, boys. Great job everyone." the photographer called out, pulling Chenle out of his daze.
The spell was broken. Jeno and Jaemin sprang apart as if jolted by electricity, the professional veneer snapping back into place. Jaemin quickly turned away, clutching his shirt closed, while Jeno cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair and avoiding everyone's eyes. The easy, charged chemistry was gone, replaced by a sudden, awkward formality.
Two PA’s rushed on set to robe Jeno and Jaemin, the two boys seemingly unfazed by what had just occured. They were pulled off set in a flash, not giving Chenle a chance to say hi. Which was probably for the best. He hardly had the courge to face them after what he just witnessed. He waited a few moments longer in the shadows before he dared to move. He needed to get out of there. Now.
He slipped out of the studio and into the hallway, his legs unsteady beneath him. He navigated down the maze of corridors quickly losing track of which direction the nearest exit was.
He paused in his tracks when he heard a familiar sound. It was Jeno’s laugh, echoing from a room up ahead. That must be their dressing room. His curiosity got the best of him, creeping towards the sound.
The door was ajar ever so slightly, a soft unrecognizable sound emanating from he inside. He listened closer. It sounded almost like…moaning.
“Feels good…” he could hear Jaemin whimper, along with what seemed to be the wet smacking of lips.
Chenle adjusted his gaze, looking further into the room, almost gasping when he laid eyes on Jaemin straddled on Jeno’s laps. Their underwear was tossed on the floor beneath them, but they still had on their white button downs, the shirt hanging loosely off Jaemin’s shoulders, displaying his sculpted back muscles. Jeno’s mouth was on Jaemin’s chest, working on his nipples, his arms wrapped around his waist, grinding his body back and fourth. His cock was standing at attention, pressed flush against Jaemin’s ass, sliding tantalizingly between his cheeks.
Chenle’s mind went blank. The heat that had been simmering in his stomach erupted into a wildfire, consuming him whole. He knew he should turn away, but he was rooted to the spot, a voyeur transfixed by the raw, uninhibited passion playing out before him.
“I wanted to fuck you so bad on that set,” Jeno rasped, his words muffled against Jaemin’s skin, his tongue gliding up the long, elegant line of his throat.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Jaemin panted, tilting his head back, giving Jeno better access to his neck. He rolled his hips, a slow, deliberate circle that had Jeno groaning, his hands tightening on Jaemin’s waist.
“Can’t wait to get inside you,” Jeno growled, grabbing the lube from the side table, slathering it on his fingers, then pressing against Jaemin's entrance. The other boy arched his back, a choked moan escaping his lips as Jeno’s finger entered him.
Chenle’s own body responded, a throbbing ache between his legs that demanded attention. He looked down the hall. It was empty, no one in sight. He couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his palm against his jeans, a frustrated sigh escaping him. He was so hard it was almost painful, the denim a cruel barrier.
“More,” Jaemin whined, pushing back against Jeno’s hand. “I need more.”
Jeno obliged, adding another finger, scissoring them inside him, stretching him open. Jaemin threw his head back, withering on Jeno’s lap, the wet, slick sounds of the stretching sending a fresh jolt of electricity down Chenle’s spine.
“Please, Jeno…” Jaemin whimpered, “I’m ready…fuck me already.”
“Mhmm, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Jeno growled with a mischievous grin, withdrawing his fingers and pressing the head of his cock to Jaemin’s entrance.
Chenle couldn’t take it. It was too good to resist. With shacky hands he unbuttoned his jeans and zipped down the fly, pulling out his own flushed cock, wrapping a hand around it. A wave of relief washed over him as he began to stroke himself, laying his head back against the wall, his thumb gliding over his leaking tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft. He was careful to stay silent, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched Jaemin lift himself up, positioning himself over Jeno’s cock. With a slow, deliberate sink, he lowered himself down, taking Jeno in inch by inch.
“Fuck…” Jaemin hissed, his head falling forward onto Jeno’s shoulder as he was completely filled up.
The sight was breathtaking. Jaemin, strong and confident on stage, now completely vulnerable, pliant in Jeno’s arms. Their lips came together in a gentle kiss, their hips beginning to rock, a slow, lazy rhythm that had them both moaning into each other’s mouths.
Chenle matched their rhythm, his hand moving up and down his length in a steady motion, his eyes glued to the two men. The friction was a welcome relief to the ache that had been building inside him, the tension in his groin finally getting the relief it craved.
Jaemin’s movement changed from back and fourth to up and down, beginning to bounce his perky booty on Jeno’s cock.
"Oh shit, you're hole feel's good," Jeno groaned, gripping his ass cheeks and meeting his bounces with a series of upward thrusts.
“Ahhh, so deep,” Jaemin breathed, out his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Chenle’s chest. The pace of their fucking quickened, a rhythm that Chenle’s own hand was now desperately trying to match. HIs eyes stayed glued to Jaemin's slick rim stretching around Jeno's thickness, a sinfully erotic sight that Chenle had no business laying eyes on. But he was hypnotized, amazed by just how much of Jeno he could take, each thrust sending a jolt of raw arousal straight to Chenle’s own throbbing cock.
Without warning Jeno lifted Jaemin up by his thighs, gently tossing him on the couch on all fours, his face pressed into cushion. Jeno stood behind him, stripping off his white button down, his sweat slicked body gleaming in the florusent light, spreading Jaemin’s ass, admiring the sight of his pink hole puckering open. Jaemin whined impatiently, pushing back against him, a silent plea to be filled again.
Jeno gave him a sharp slap on the ass, the sound ringing in Chenle's ears, before lining himself up, entering him with one smooth, powerful thrust.
A strangled cry tore from Jaemin’s throat, burying his face in the couch cushions, muffling his screams as Jeno set a relentless, punishing rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of their fucking, the wet, rhythmic squelch of Jeno’s cock entering Jaemin over and over again, the slick slap of their bodies clashing, their ragged breaths and desperate cries of pleasure. It was a melody Chenle was getting lost in.
“Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!” Jaemin cried out, looking back at Jeno with a wide, pleasure filled grin. Jeno growled, driving into Jaemin with an almost feral intensity. He gripped Jaemin’s hips, pulling him back to meet each thrust, his balls slapping against Jaemin’s with a lewd, percussive beat.
The sheer force of each thrust sent a pulse straight through Chenle’s cock, squeezing his length to delay his release. He wanted to savor this moment, etch the image of Jeno fucking Jaemin into his memory forever. This raw, untamed, version of them. This new side to his hyungs he never knew existed. It was captivating. Intoxicating.
“Are you close?” Jeno asked with urgency, his own breath coming in ragged gasps, propping one up on the couch to get deeper inside him.
“Y-yes,” Jaemin whimpered, his voice trembling with pleasure, wrapping his fist around his own throbbing cock.
“Good. I’m gonna breed your hole,” Jeno growled, his hips snapping forward, the force of his thrusts pushing Jaemin further into the couch.
“Ahhh, want you to cum in me,” Jaemin begged, the words a desperate, needy plea, jerking himself off in rythm with Jeno’s thrusts.
Chenle’s chest was heaving, bitting down on his bottom lip to hold back a gasp. He was close as well, so achingly close. The tension in his groin was coiled tight, a spring ready to snap. He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Jeno and Jaemin burned into the back of his eyelids, their moans a soundtrack to his impending release.
“Jeno!” Jaemin cried out, his body going limp as his cock began spurting in his hand, a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure tearing from his throat.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jeno groaned, fucking him through it, his own release following close behind, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into Jaemin, letting out a loud, guttural moan.
The sound of their combined pleasure sent Chenle over the edge. He bit back a cry, his body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over him. He began spilling into his own hand, his cock pulsing with each rope of milky fluid that squirted out of him, releasing all the pent up desire that was rumbling inside. He threw his head back against the wall, his legs trembling, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.
He opened his eyes when the high began to fade, the dressing room swimming back into focus. Jeno and Jaemin were a tangle of limbs on the couch, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing slowly returning to normal. A deep sense of satisfaction washed over him, followed by a wave of cold, hard reality.
He had justmasturbated to his bandmates. His hyungs. The men he looked up to since he was a trainee.
The shame was immediate and overwhelming, looking down at the warm, sticky evidence of his crime splattered in his palm. He scrambled to clean himself up, using the inside of his shirt to wipe away the mess, his hands shaking as he tucked his semi back in his jeans. He fled the scene without looking back, not daring to risk another glance at the two men on the couch.
He didn't stop running until he burst out the back door of the building, gasping in the cool night air. The streetlights cast long shadows across the empty parking lot, a stark contrast to the heated scene he had just witnessed. He leaned against the cold brick wall, his body trembling with a mixture of aftershock and guilt. But even then, the filthy image of his two hyung's fucking like animals refused to leave his mind. And a part of him didn't want it to.