Chapter Text
There's no need to ask how it went. It's clear the instant Taemin appears on his phone screen, his fluffy white hair ruffled and sweaty and his shirt already half-unbuttoned and his smile radiating triumph.
"Aaah! Jongin, I-" his cheeks glow with elation, his eyes flashing bright, and Jongin's chest aches suddenly from how much he adores him, how proud he is. How relieved. "Nini, I'm so happy."
"You did it!"
"I did it! God, I was so nervous, you have no idea, like being a teenager again, I just-" he tips back his head, lets out a long shuddering exhalation, and beams with pure euphoria. He's so beautiful. He's always beautiful but sometimes something happens which makes his spirit or his anima or whatever overflow and spill out of his body and into the world, like there's too much Taemin for Taemin to contain, and it's the most captivating thing Jongin's ever witnessed.
"I did it. I did it. I feel so fucking good."
"You look good."
A wild understatement of the truth, but it makes Taemin blush. He blushes, then his smile glitters; wicked.
He's lurking in a dim cosy little space, a trailer, Jongin realises, hidden away from the chaos of the festival outside. Alone. He's unbuttoning his silky yellow shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal smooth pale skin. His voice drops, soft and playful.
"Pretty, Jonginnie, you look fucking good too. Where are you."
He knows the answer, he must, that's not the real question. Jongin pivots quickly to show Taemin enough for him to know the familiar outline of one of the little rooms deep in the guts of KSPO dome, the last refuge of peace before the stage. He wouldn't usually be hiding here until the last second, alone and away from the others. But.
He doesn't want to talk about that. He doesn't want to make Taemin sad, not now, it's time for Taemin go and savour his victory and Jongin to go and do his job. He shrugs, and deflects.
"Going on soon."
"How soon?"
He doesn't sound like he's interested in talking about it either. There's a hungry urgency in his voice which makes Jongin shiver with familiar anticipation before he's even aware of it.
"Uhhh call's in ten minutes. I should - "
"Lock the door."
"Taem-"
"Mmm. Shut up and lock the door."
There's an edge to it, and it does something to Jongin he's helpless to resist. Shit. Taemin's not the only one feeling like a teenager. Taemin's on his feet suddenly, putting his phone down on something low so Jongin has a view of him unbuckling his belt, and-
"Shit, okay, okay. Wait!" He's stumbling as he dives for the door, of course he has to lock it, the last fucking thing he needs is someone walking in while Taemin's- "Jesus, Taem, fuck-" he can't help it, he's on his knees by reflex. He props his phone up on a chair so he can gaze in desperate reverence at the revelation that is Taemin, his bare body lean and hard and flawlessly graceful and lushed with want, his gaze dark with intent.
"Did you lock it." Like he cares who sees him like this, his hand curled around his cock, stroking. He wants the world to see him like this, Jongin knows, but it's his burden to carry alone.
"Yes." He croaks the word, his voice already wrecked.
"Good. Take that stupid ugly shit off, I need to see you."
"Taem-"
"Shut up and do it, Nini, goddamn it I need this. I was so fucking hard the whole time I was out there." Taemin's voice is ragged too, as Jongin begins to obey, pulling his supposedly regal costume aside to reveal cool skin prickled with goosebumps he's shivering as Taemin groans, "Let me see you, please, please lie down, god you're so beautiful when you're like this..."
Somehow, across the vastness of the Pacific, it's like Taemin's over him, kneeling astride him, fingers reaching out to ghost across his bare flesh, making him whine; then pulling back to luxuriate in the pleasure of his own body, teasing and caressing like he wants the world to go mad from watching him. And Jongin is.
He knows he's meant to ask. Taemin normally makes him beg.
"Please can I touch-"
"Yes." Poor Taemin blurts it out; he's too far gone even to torment him. "Please touch, please, I want to see you, I want to see you watch me."
He rolls his hips, his pale body luminous in the low light, sweat gleaming on his skin, his breath ragged already. "My beauty. Want you to watch me while they hunt for you..."
Jongin flinches. "Junmyeon-hyung will kick my ass."
"Good. He should. He should beat the shit out of you.” He's so turned on by this concept, he's so delighted it rings in his voice, and tears spring in Jongin’s eyes as crazed arousal surges through him, electric and spiked with jagged shame. “He wants you so bad but he can go fuck himself, he can't have you, you're mine." He sounds so close now, his breath tight in his throat. "Want to mark you. Want to paint you with my cum, make you filthy, all he can give you is bruises-”
It shouldn't make Jongin shudder with excitement but it does, and Taemin sees him pulse and stiffen.
"Goddd, yes, please come for me, please..."
Taemin moans as Nini muffles a cry and spatters his belly with warmth, and then it's all over.
"Yes, watch me..."
What else can Jongin possibly do except watch as Taemin throws his head back, his throat exposed and his body arched in the moment of climax; then melt, draping himself softly forward to gaze in adoration at the man lying sprawled and disheveled and streaked with white, right underneath him and yet unbearably far away.
"Love you. Love you so much. My beauty. Go. Go. Make them all love you. The whole world should love you."
He wipes himself up with whatever he can find. Fixes his stage costume. He looks okay, thank god. The center must always shine. If anything this has put a glow in his cheeks.
He's not even late, but when he opens the door his leader is outside, standing there like he's carved out of wood.
Like he's always been there. Like he heard it all.
"Hyung-"
Of course Junmyeon says nothing, he never has no matter how obvious it's been, but his jaw is clenched. So are his fists.
"Lets go."