Torpe - Jongtae
Title: Torpe (aka Jonghyun becomes one of us)
Author: carefiction
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongtae
Warnings: none tbh unless you count smut then smutWord Count: ~6k
Summary: Jonghyun sometimes wonders what would have happened if he hadn't watched that damn video and let that little fucker into his life. Seriously. Things would be a lot less complicated, but he really can't complain. (youtube!AU)
a/n~ Welcome, lovelies. This fic was inspired by Nicole, who was talking about a youtubers!AU Jongtae the other day and I basically volunteered to write it because Jongtae and also cute AU? Yes?
I hope you all like it a lot, because I think it actually turned out well and OTP and yeah.
Jonghyun just so happens to be checking his phone during his lunch hour when Taemaximum just so happens to upload his newest video.
“He did another dance cover, oh my god,” his voice fades out into a silent breath as he drones on, forgetting to inhale. “Jinki. Jinki, please. Look. He’s dancing.”
Jonghyun’s best friend, the guy he’s been attached to as his older brother type protector since the third grade, just sort of rolls his eyes and ducks back into his container of General Tso’s. “Isn’t that what he got started doing videos about? What’s so special about another dance cover?”
See, Jonghyun’s used to his friend’s disinterest in his, well, interest. Jinki’s a bigger fan of that social justice vlogger with the really big eyes and really deep voice. While Taemaximum can’t measure up to Inho-May in Jinki’s eyes, he’s everything in Jonghyun’s. “Because,” Jonghyun starts, slurping down a noodle of Chow Mein. “While that’s were he started, Taem hasn’t done one in forever. He didn’t really get popular until he started doing song covers a couple of years ago, and he’s been sticking to them ever since. But!”
“But…”
“As someone who’s followed him from the very start, who fell for… uh… who liked him for the dances, it’s kind of a big freaking deal he’s posting dance videos again. This boy is gifted.”
Jinki chortles. “From the very start, a.k.a., you’ve been a total pedophile for nearly six years.”
“Taemint, not a pedophile,” he harrumphs, and that’s the end of that. “Besides, he’s like, twenty.”
Taemin, Taemaximum, is quite possibly the best thing to have ever happened to Jonghyun, and he’s always willing to express it.
---
Jonghyun found Taemin nearly six years ago, as his friend had earlier expressed, when the boy uploaded his dance cover of Lee Hyori’s “U-Go-Girl” with choreography designed completely by himself.
He pressed the subscribe button faster than he could even contemplate what he was doing, or why. The kid just had this magnetic pull; he gave off a distinct air of charisma with every pop and lock. Jonghyun was hooked.
The fanbase was small but it grew over the years, and now Taemaximum is rolling in the millions on his covers, fans multiplying by the day. Puberty worked to his advantage, as well, and Jonghyun would never deny the fact that the raven-haired guy on his computer screen is probably one of the most attractive motherfuckers to ever exist.
“I just want to punch him in the face,” Jonghyun groans, leaning back on his couch. It’s sort of an accurate description of his life as a fan, really; any Taemint out there has said the same exact thing at least once in their life.
His cousin, Kibum, stalls where he is on the other side of the room, fist full of popcorn hanging about three inches from his mouth. “Are you watching that glorified flower boy again? Jesus, Jjong, he looks like a girl.”
“He does not,” Jonghyun sits back up in a flash, mouth hanging open. “You’re such an asshole. He may be skinny as fuck but I swear to god, if I had the chance, I’d let him ram me up th-“
“I’m not listening to this.”
Jonghyun sighs, switching tabs to reblog yet another gifset of his youtuber. Ever since he’s started up with the dance covers again, his dash has been hopping. His only request from God right now is that Taemaximum never finds his blog, because his tags are rated R and not for the weak of heart. “You don’t understand, man.”
The blond chortles. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t understand because you’re a twenty-three year old man drooling over a kid you don’t even know on Valentine’s day. Which, by the way, is a day in which you should be spending with your significant other.” Jonghyun feels it, the sarcasm mounting in Kibum’s already acerbic tone. “Oh. Wait. I forgot you didn’t have one, because all you do is drool over a kid you don’t know on the internet.”
Jonghyun winces like that was a blow to the chest. Cruel, but true. “My being single has nothing to do with liking his videos.” Even as he says it, he can feel the pathetic wavering in his tone.
“Bull shit,” Kibum walks over, plopping down beside him. “Dude, you need to grow up and move on. You don’t know this guy, no matter how much research you do. You don’t even know his full name. You will probably never know him, either, so get off your ass, and go find a real life boyfriend.”
Jonghyun just sort of stares at the other. Kibum stares back.
He kind of has a point.
Jonghyun feels his face go red and there’s a panging in his chest, and even though it’s totally stupid and petty of him, he can’t help but feel like Kibum’s slap of reality has just stolen his greatest fantasy, his biggest dream. He gathers his laptop and blanket without a word and doesn’t stop when Kibum protests, tells him to come back. He finds solace in the way his door slams, the way his laptop screen lights up the darkness of his room when he shuts himself in.
“Screw Kibum,” Jonghyun decides, and he makes his way to Taemaximum’s channel to cheer himself up.
And then his mind reels. Most likely from excitement, because…
Taemaximum uploaded a video.
The “Valentine’s Day message” was put up only about a minute ago, it seems, and he thinks that fate is trying to make him happy, to keep his little haven alive. Jonghyun clicks on it, what appears to be a short, vlog-type video of Taemin. The thumbnail is this really dumb picture of they younger boy’s mouth half-open, eyes half-shut, like he’s in the middle of talking. “Dork,” Jonghyun mutters as he smiles to himself.
“Hello, my lovely Taemints~” the video starts off as usual, with his little wave, eyebrow lift, deep voice. “I’m here today to do a quick shout out to you guys. This isn’t me singing or dancing; I apologize. But! I’ve been told my voice is pretty nice, so I thought I’d just talk for once. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you, hasn’t it?”
Jonghyun is swooning. “Uh….” He’s also fighting back shivers because the rare few times in which Taemin has done these little chats, the fans have learned to appreciate the ‘ummm.’ Because damn, his voice is deep. Deep and throaty. “Well, I suppose the obvious is, happy Valentine’s Day! To those of you who have someone to cuddle up and watch this with, I hope your day was wonderful and romantic, as it should be. To those who, like me, are kind of forever alone, I hope you’re faring well, too. We should stick together in these times of trials.” Forever alone? Jonghyun is pretty sure everyone watching these videos wants to date Taemin.
“But yes, anyway, continuing. I shouldn’t say I’m forever alone, because I have you all. This Valentine’s Day, I’m giving you all my heart, because you, as my fans, deserve it the most. I love you guys! And in accordance with this, as your gift, I have created a Twitter account, and will be personally following the first one hundred people who follow me.”
Jonghyun’s heart stops, and he doesn’t even have time to reflect upon how sappy and sweet Taemin is being right now, because holy shit shit shit he has to get on Twitter now. Wait, what’s the username? Taemaximum again? The whole entire rest of the video drones on in the background, forgotten.
He tries it. @Taemaximum.
NINETY-EIGHT PEOPLE FOLLOW HIM HOLY EFFING-
Jonghyun presses the button faster than Jinki drops his pants for guys with long legs, adrenaline flooding his system. His hands are shaking so badly, he almost misses it.
When he refreshes it, the meter is at one hundred and one.
He pales. Did he make it? What if he was one oh one? His stomach is churning, and he may just throw up, because Jonghyun has never really been good at dealing with pressure. Or anything like this in general, like, fuck. He closes his eyes. If he made it, Taemin will follow him, right? There’s no good in totally destroying himself with anxiety until something actually happ-
Ding!
Jonghyun’s eyes fly open to the phone that’s resting on his nightstand. The screen is illuminated and there’s a single notification displayed, from Twitter.
Taemaximum is now following you.
Jonghyun screams so loudly and so shrilly that Kibum has to come in and yell at him for it, and any lingering suspicion that his neighbors may have had about his being straight are, by now, long gone.
Happy Valentines, indeed.
---
The following few days after Taemin adds him on Twitter, Jonghyun is so careful about what he posts and what’s already on his account that it hurts. He takes down a couple posts, and the slightly sexual fanboy tweets that he’s known for in their fandom kind of come to a screeching halt.
He tweets a picture of his dog and three people unfollow him.
But a few hours later and Taemin favorites it. It sort of sends his heart soaring, which is why he’s at work, on break, hiding behind Jinki while batting his eyelashes at his phone. The older trash-talks him all day for it, too, laughing at the way he practically jumps each time he gets a notification.
“You’re obsessed,” Jinki says, matter-of-factly, in response to the fact that his ringtone is Taemin’s dumb version of EXO’s “MAMA.”
Jonghyun feels his stomach sink. He’s right, so right, and he feels almost pitiful for it. Jonghyun is absolutely fucking obsessed with a boy on the internet, so much so that it’s actually sort of painful. “Shut up, man. It makes me smile.”
The other sighs, leaning back in his chair as he sloshes around what’s left of his third trenta of iced Americano. “No, but dude. You said you have him on twitter now, right? Why not send him a message or something?”
Cue vehement head shaking from the younger. “No, you don’t understand.”
“If I had a dollar for every fucking time you said that.”
“I can’t message him. That would singlehandedly bring my entire world to a screeching halt.”
Jinki rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, reaching out for Jonghyun’s phone. Before the other can protest, he holds it high above his head (Jonghyun’s greatest weakness) and opens up his Twitter app.
Jonghyun lets out a noise that’s halfway between a squeal and a gasp, but he doesn’t care. Jinki’s typing out a DM to the object of his slightly obsessive affections and he’s going to die. Taemin will unfollow him and get a restraining order and Jesus Christ he’s going to kill Jinki.
When he finally wrestles the phone back, Jinki had already been able to send out a message. “Hi, I’m Jonghyun. I’m your number one fan and I worship your ass more than a priest worships God.”
“Fuck. You.” It comes out like a growl, and Jinki smirks.
“You’ll thank me later.”
As Jinki walks away, Jonghyun scrawls out an “I’m sorry, my friend just stole my phone,” faster than he added the younger man in the first place.
---
He gets his reply about an hour later while he’s cleaning out the aquatic animal tanks. Petco for life. “haha it’s all good. i appreciate the compliment.” Then, a few seconds later, “hi, i’m taemin, and i believe in capitalization as much as perez hilton believes in being a decent person”
Jonghyun nearly drops his phone in the aquarium. And he doubts the snapping turtles would have let him have it back that easily. This guy is perfect? Actually fucking perfect??? Much wonderful.
He quickly realizes that he’s only able to think in incoherent symbols and really old tumblr memes. “If my phone didn’t do it for me I would agree with you wholeheartedly.”
Did he just talk to Taemin like, regularly? Not that Jonghyun doesn’t see him as a regular person, or anything, it’s just… what?
He’s totally not going to respond.
“haha, gotta love autocorrect. i had to turn it off tho bc it kept changing fucking to ducking and I accidentally told my professor i was getting sex and not that I was getting sick”
His heart is going to give out. He feels it. “I’d rather be getting sex tbh. Autocorrect knows what we really want.”
“dude yes.” Jonghyun has completely forgotten about the fish and turtles and sporadic crustaceans by now, is completely absorbed in the way his blood is rushing, his chest is contracting, his hands are shaking. He fears his knees might even go out, so he has to hop down off of the stepladder (he isn’t as tall as Jinki is, it’s a complex) to collect himself. “also you’re the first person to actually talk to me on private here and i rly appreciate it” then “not to be creepy or anything but i like your profile pic is that your dog?”
He’s going to tell Roo all about this when he gets home, holy shit. “Yes she’s my baby and you’re not creepy at all, if anything, I’m the creepy one because I watch videos of you all the time” he did not just send that oh fuck gotta lighten the mood with a tactical aversion- “lol.”
“haha nah it’s cool i watch videos of me all day too”
He’s perfect and no one will ever convince Jonghyun otherwise.
Except his floor manager, who is now standing over him with a really angry face. “What have I told you about using your phone on the job?”
“That I shouldn’t,” Jonghyun squeaks in reply, shutting it off and slipping it in his pocket, ambling back up to do what he was supposed to.
He’ll just respond later. Also thank Jinki. Maybe.
---
His conversations with Taemin go on and on, growing to the point where Taemin asks Jonghyun if he’d like to move to kakaotalk or just plain text.
Jonghyun thinks that Taemin is secretly out to kill him. In one of their conversations, Jonghyun told him that he’d been watching him since the “U-Go-Girl” dance and Taemin seriously thanked him for like twenty minutes because he couldn’t comprehend how Jonghyun could have stuck with him for so long.
Kill. Taemin is going to make him die a premature death.
But he adds “Lee Taemin” anyway, all the while telling Kibum all about what’s been going on. His cousin is largely ignoring, him, though, but Jonghyun doesn’t really care. He just keeps going.
“Yesterday he sent me a selca when he was at Yogurtland. You know, cause we both like frozen yogurt.”
“Wow,” Kibum responds, “how strange. Frozen yogurt is so rare a food to like.”
The silver-blond huffs, shaking his head. “The point is, he thought of me while he went to get it. He even got my favorite kind. I’ve become a big enough part of his life for him to think about me.”
Kibum finally looks over towards him, brow raised. “That’s… well, okay, I guess I’m happy for you? But how long have you guys been talking?”
Jonghyun feels a smile slip onto his face. “A couple of weeks.”
“Jesus f- wow. And he hasn’t run away yet? You still think he’s perfect?”
A slight bit of hurt flashes through his eyes with his cousin’s comment, but Jonghyun remains smiling. “No and yes. We click, Kibum. Click.”
The blond’s eyes narrow. “Please get your sappy romanticism away from me, it’s clogging my pores.”
Jonghyun would be more offended if Kibum wasn’t like this literally all the time. He stands and figures that he’s bothered his cousin enough, retreating back to his room (in a much less angry manner than the last time), where he continues to ignore everything except the way he and Taemin are literally the perfect match.
It goes like this, day after day, until the both of them are falling asleep on their phones, too tired to even type, so they have to send those really convenient voice messages instead.
“Goomph nigh.”
Jonghyun grins. He wishes he could save these, keep them forever. “Night.”
---
“we should do a vid chat,” Taemin says, one day, when Jonghyun is shoving his mouth with snack cakes and watching reruns of MTV’s “Catfish.”
Of course, Jonghyun jumps. He then proceeds to panic, type out an affirmative response, and then panic some more, all the while looking for an appropriate shirt and pants combination. “Yeah sure one sec I have to clean up my room”
Big fucking lie, but it’s buying him time.
About five minutes later he’s groomed the way he feels most comfortable, fixing his hair until it falls perfectly on his forehead. It’s a good thing Kibum isn’t home, either, because there would be some serious teasing going on if he was. Jonghyun presses the call button, and Taemin picks up after the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” the younger breathes, and even though Jonghyun has heard his voice hundreds of times, it still sends chills down his spine.
Jonghyun smiles, leaning back in his desk chair. He never actually uses the desk, to be honest, which is why it’s piled high with notebooks and food trash he’s too lazy to throw away. “Hey, man,” gotta sound like a bro, “what’s up?”
Taemin shrugs. Jonghyun has to take a moment to laugh at how Taemin isn’t really good at getting the camera angle on his phone right (his selcas are like this, too), because Jonghyun’s getting a nice view of some double-chin action. “Not much. I’m sorry I didn’t give you much warning on the call; I kinda just got bored and was like, ‘hey, I want to video call my man Jonghyun.’”
His man Jonghyun. “It’s cool, I totally understand.”
“Hmmm, yeah. It’s times like these where I kind of wish we lived closer? I’m the type who likes to show up unannounced on people’s doorsteps with food and movies. You’d probably get sick of me, though.”
It’s not like they live that far away from each other, just that Jonghyun can’t legally drive himself anywhere and Taemin’s really busy at home. Which is okay. They’re only a city apart, though, which is really thrilling. “I could never get sick of you,” the elder laughs, and Taemin smiles.
“I’m also trying to pick out the song for my next video. Care to help me out?”
Jonghyun nods. “Sure, sure. What are you looking for?”
Taemin does that hum, that really hot low pitched one, and Jonghyun has to exert an inhuman amount of self-control to not think dirty thoughts. “Something soulful. I did a pop number last time, I’m sick of those.”
“You came to the right guy,” Jonghyun laughs. “Whenever I want to sing soul, I usually throwback to Michael Jackson, or something. How about ‘Billie Jean?’”
“That’s perfect and- wait. You sing? How come I didn’t know this?”
Jonghyun bites the inside of his cheek. Crap. “Uh… because I don’t tell people? My friend Jinki and I were in a band in high school. Rock band. Dark times.”
Taemin’s eyes go wide. “I NEED PICTURES AND VIDEOS NOW-“
“Shhh.” Jonghyun shakes his head, eyes closed. “I tend to not like to revisit the band days. My hair was this ungodly spiked mess, I looked like a freaking porcupine.”
“Oh my god, that’s fantastic,” the younger laughs. “You should sing for me, then, if I don’t get pictures.” Jonghyun can feel the tips of his ears radiating heat.
“Really?” He questions, and the younger man nods. So, he scans his mind for songs and settles upon one he’s heard Taemin do before. “Uh, okay. No rock, though. I still have nightmares about screamo music.” Pause. Breath. Breathe, Jonghyun. “Here goes nothing.”
The one he does is Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours,” and Taemin’s eyes immediately light up. His English is actually awful, though, and he can see a couple of times in which Taem will find something amusing and laugh. But when he finishes, Taemin claps, and he feels like he’s just crossed the finish line for a really tough marathon. “Your voice is incredible,” the other boy gushes.
Jonghyun just kind of shakes his head. “Not even. Yours is much nicer.”
“No, no,” Taemin protests. “I genuinely really love your voice. I know this is our first video chat or whatever, but even when you’re not singing, like when you were talking earlier or when we send those voice messages, it’s really nice and I just like listening in general. How come you never tried out youtube? I’m sure you would have blown up bigger than I have.”
He honestly can’t take the fact that his own idol is praising him like this. “I didn’t think it’d work out for me? I also don’t have the work ethic. Am I really that good?”
Taemin sends him one of those dreamy smiles from across the screen. “Yes, you are. So much so that I’m kind of… well, itching to ask you to collaborate with me on a song or something.”
“What.”
“I’ve never done a duet with anyone before, at least, for singing, but I just get this feeling that our voices would just mesh, you know?”
Jonghyun does know. Their voices along with every other part of them. “Uh, y-yeah, of course. Actually, now that you mention it, I think so, too. It’d be a great idea.”
He chuckles. “And, of course, with your good looks, you’d probably steal all my viewers.”
Jonghyun just may die. Taemin is out to kill him. “He… he…” think coherently, Jjong, he can see your stupid fucking face, “if, uh, if we were to do this collab, then when and where?”
“My studio, probably?” Taemin looks out to the corner of the screen, frowning as if he’s thinking to himself. Jonghyun almost does that thing where he sighs because he just really likes looking at Taemin’s face. “You live in Seoul, and I’m in Incheon, so we could meet up a couple of times to discuss stuff pretty easily when neither of us are busy, yeah? Actually, I’ll be in Seoul to visit my parents in about a week, so I could drop by your place then, if you wanted.”
Jonghyun just sort of… blinks.
“I mean, I don’t have to; I’d hate to impose or someth-“
“No, no, it’s totally okay and I’d really love to have you over. When do you think it’d be? I’ll kick my cousin out and buy snacks.”
Taemin’s smile is just breathtaking, Jonghyun thinks. He loves it almost as much as he loves the fact that Taemin has a tendency to show his indifference whenever he isn’t doing/talking about something he really loves. Taemin is expressive; his eyes, face, always show just what he’s thinking. And right now he’s happy, and Jonghyun just can’t fathom the fact that it’s because of him. “Next Thursday,” he says. “I can’t wait.”
Jonghyun can’t, either, to be completely honest.
---
“Welcome to my… apartment.”
“It’s really nice.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
Taemin chuckles as he passes Jonghyun into the tiny foyer, continuing into the living room/kitchen combination. When the older shuts and locks the door behind him, he looks up to see that the raven-haired man has turned and is waiting for him to follow along (or show him the way, he’s not really sure which).
Taemin is really stunning in person. Jonghyun knew he would be, really; how could he not? From the very first dance video, Jonghyun has known that Taemin is thin and lanky, with long legs and an in-general lean body. But here, in front of him, he can really measure the way light glints from his eyes like he’s a cat, mischievous and cunning. His hair is unkempt and wavy, shoved haphazardly underneath a baseball cap that he can’t read because he’s just not that good at English.
“You said you’d have snacks,” Taemin kicks up the conversation, snapping the elder from his trance.
Jonghyun’s lips split into a smirk. “You just came for my food, didn’t you?”
Pushing past, he ignores those enchanting eyes and opens up his cabinets, pulling out chips and sweets alike. Taemin trails behind, too, hovering a little bit behind him. “Maybe,” he admits, quietly, and they both laugh. Taemin takes a beer from the fridge.
Then, as their conversation starts coming a little more easily, the time passes, and Jonghyun slips back into his weird mindset, the awkward, totally uncool one. The one that’s still a big fucking fan of Taemin, Taemaximum, the one that wants to reach out and give him a hug. But he has to shake that off. He can’t be that guy. They’re friends now, have been for a while, and he can’t keep up with that sort of mentality.
But at the same time, it’s so hard. Like, shit. Here he is in all his attractive, masculine glory, Adam’s apple bobbing, deep voice reverberating off of the walls. His mind is taking him back to the nights in which he’d wake up in a cold sweat from dreaming about less than chaste liaisons with the younger, each vision vivid and so painfully real that he’d spend the next few minutes in the bathroom taking care of business.
It doesn’t help that Jonghyun can smell him-
“Are you okay?” Taemin has to question, because ever since they’ve moved to the couch, Jonghyun’s zoning out has been especially prominent, and he’s kind of sorry about that.
He’s also really sorry about the fact that he’s getting a hard-on.
Really sorry. “Yeah, man, I’m good. Must not have gotten a lot of sleep last night.”
Taemin’s arches a brow and Jonghyun nearly loses it right there. “Oh? I didn’t think you were seeing anyone…”
“I’m not,” the blond almost chokes.
This only seems to further the innuendo, and the blood that isn’t occupying his dick is rushing to his face. “I also didn’t mean it like that,” he says, and shakes his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Taemin breaks the awkward tension with his smirk and good nature. “But, uh, I have something to say, now? That kinda made me remember something I wanted to say before I left.”
“I’ll try not to space out on you,” he mutters in response, apprehension seeping into his mind, churning his stomach.
Taemin must know. How could he not? “Honesty time, then. Let’s say my intentions in coming here today were a little more than just, you know, chilling as friends and discussing the collab. Let’s say that yours haven’t really been all that pure, either.”
Jonghyun raises his own brow because that wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to hear, shifting back on the couch just a bit in an attempt to hide his painfully awkward half-boner. “Uh… huh?”
“Let’s say,” he continues, “that, ever since that first chat, I’ve found you charming? Ever since the first video call, I’ve thought you were unbelievably handsome and adorable? And ever since that one time on the phone, I’ve really been attracted to you? Let’s just say that, theoretically, all of those things are true.”
His heart has stopped beating. “And, theoretically, if they were? If I returned them, but a bit more creepily, because I’ve been following you on the internet and have no life?”
Taemin is close. So close that it’s causing this otherworldly sensation smack-dab in the center of his ribcage, and as time passes, the intensity in Taemin’s eyes sends this heat to the pit of his stomach. “Theoretically, I’d have to say, that I’d really want to do what I came for, then.”
Jonghyun is, surprisingly, the one that ends up closing the distance between them. This whole month of friendship and Jonghyun has never initiated anything on his own. But this, this is different, and he’s almost sure Taemin wouldn’t have done it had he not helped out.
His lips find Taemin’s almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed. He keeps his hands to himself almost as a sort of precaution, because he’s still sort of confused as to whether or not he’s doing the right thing, but then the younger boy’s seemingly delicate hands find their way to his waist, gripping him there. Jonghyun winds his arms around Taemin’s neck and takes a breath as they part for air, going back in to have his stolen once again. Taemin tastes like coffee, like restless nights and unanswered questions.
Taemin bites down on Jonghyun’s lower lip and their noses bump together, so the blond tilts his head to the side, darting his tongue out to run a line on Taemin’s own lips. This seems to elicit a positive response, causing the younger to open up his mouth and press his body flush against Jonghyun’s.
The friction, the heat, it’s dizzying.
Jonghyun’s crotch is beyond restricted in his pants, now, with Taemin slowly working their tongues together, slowly pushing him back so that they’re nearly horizontal. “Is this too fast?” Taemin asks, “for you, I mean. Because I’m okay with this. More than okay.”
“Stop talking,” Jonghyun urges, and Taemin returns to his lips, fisting his hands in the cotton of the elder’s t-shirt.
Taemin works his way between Jonghyun’s legs, grinding down onto the shorter man’s erection with a similar one of his own. “Fuck,” Taemin shudders, and Jonghyun really has to agree with him.
His thoughts scatter as the grinding continues, and he really just wants Taemin inside of him, now. It’s maddening the way the dancer’s hips work with his, the way Taemin drags his shirt up along his torso, stripping it from his body and tossing it away. Jonghyun finds himself lacking a shirt not too long after that, but it’s quite all right.
How did he go from watching Taemin on fucking youtube to (possibly) getting fucked by him? How the hell did this even happen?
Taemin cups at Jonghyun’s crotch, squeezing just a bit, rubbing his length through the denim with the pad of his thumb. “Hyung, can I-“ Jonghyun cuts him off with a nod. The way that boy says ‘hyung’ has him all sorts of needy.
The younger unzips his jeans and works them off, baring legs that haven’t seen the light of day in a good ten years. Those fucking hands work his thighs, massaging, and he leans in and presses kisses there, getting closer and closer to his groin. Taemin’s fingers hook around his boxer shorts and his cock is freed. He pumps the shaft a few times, tongue flicking out to lap up the precum that slowly oozes from the tip. “Suck me off,” Jonghyun grows bolder, and Taemin obliges.
The raven-haired boy’s lips were built for sucking cock, he quickly comes to realize, because Taemin can fucking do it right. With each bob of his head, each graze of teeth, each stroke of tongue, Jonghyun comes closer and closer to losing it.
He threads his fingers through Taemin’s hair and pulls the younger man up before he actually can lose it. Jonghyun intends to have as much fun with this as possible, after all. Taemin gets the hint, though, and reattaches his mouth to Jonghyun’s. The shorter man sits up a bit, moving to work the belt buckle on Taemin’s skin-tight pants, eventually having to break the kiss to focus on that alone. Taemin laughs at him, but Jonghyun likes to think that belts are like the bras of gay sex, which is why he makes a point of not wearing them.
Taemin is hard and thick, his girth filling Jonghyun’s fist, and he really, really wants Taemin to fuck him. He hasn’t had a good lay in maybe a year, and even then it was a (really drunk) pity fuck on Jinki’s part. Taemin isn’t as thick but he’s certainly got the length going for him, so there’s that.
“Fuck me,” he pants, and Taemin grins, using his strength to guide Jonghyun from his seated position on the couch to the carpet, on his hands and knees. No words spared, Taemin grips his ass from behind, reaching around to Jonghyun’s already bruised lips to have him coat his fingers with saliva. He does exactly this, too, moaning around the younger man’s fingers like he’s too needy to function.
Taemin works one finger into Jonghyun’s hole and the elder licks his lips, bracing himself for the second, the third. He knows the drill. If only it hadn’t been so fucking long, then maybe they could have jumped right into it.
After a bit of scissoring and some stroking to keep his dick up, Taemin is slicking his cock with his own spit and positioning it at Jonghyun’s entrance. Jonghyun feels a familiar heat pooling in his groin, and if Taemin wasn’t pushing in, he’d reach up to jack himself off. “You’re so… fuck, tell me when.”
Jonghyun clenches his teeth as Taemin inches in, a little bit of pain shooting through, but it’s bearable. And by the time Taemin has filled him, Jonghyun rocks back on the younger’s dick. “Now, Taem, move.”
Taemin starts to thrust in, holding Jonghyun by the waist. It’s slow and painstakingly tedious at first, but then he picks up the pace and Jonghyun can sense the prelude of his release in the way Taemin strokes his prostate to life. Jonghyun is left moaning, wrecked, when the younger slams in and it’s all he can do to hold back what he knows is coming. The pleasure is mounting; he can feel the prickling sensation licking up his body and shit, his arms are going to give out. “Oh my God, Taem, touch me.”
“I’m so fucking close,” the other grasps Jonghyun’s dick, hand slipping up and down until neither of them can even form words, they’re that far gone.
Jonghyun cums around the same time as Taemin’s throbbing cock shoves in one last shallow time, warm ropes of sticky cum shooting on his chest and rolling off on Taemin’s hand. They both kind of fall there, and Jonghyun can feel Taemin’s seed drip when he pulls out the same way he feels the stiffness of his joints after he returns to a bit of lucidity.
It takes the both of them quite a while to catch their breath, and even then, they’re reluctant to get off the floor. “We should do this more often,” Taemin mutters, and Jonghyun can only roll over into his chest and nod.
---
“Hey, Jinki?”
The older man looks up from the doghouse he’s currently working on assembling, a brow quirked. “What’s up, Jonghyun?”
“Thanks.”
Jinki didn’t need to ask why.
---
When they actually do set aside time from their now busy dating schedule to do the collaboration, Jonghyun and Taemin make sure that it’s absolutely perfect.
For one, Taemin decides to use some of his ad money to buy a new studio microphone, for extra-high quality sound. They then proceed to spend hours working on the perfect song, which ends up being written by Jonghyun to the tune of some Corbin Bleu track. Taemin’s going to play the piano and Jonghyun’s set on guitar, and they’re so excited they forget to press the record button on the camera the first go-around.
But when they actually get it, the take comes out wonderfully. “I almost want to skip editing and just post it,” Taemin mutters, pressing pause. “We seriously killed it.”
“You could do that,” Jonghyun shrugs and takes off the clunky recording headphones. “And you’re right. We did kill it. Also, do I get to do that intro with you? You know, announce myself as your duet partner and-“
“Boyfriend?” There’s the eyebrow. Taemin always has to throw in the eyebrow.
“I prefer the term, uh, significant other. Boyfriend sounds so juvenile.”
Taemin snorts. “You’re so weird, but yeah. Is that okay, revealing your identity? You may get mobs of angry fangirls.”
Jonghyun just smiles. “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
He still needs to delete his tumblr, though.
Author: carefiction
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongtae
Warnings: none tbh unless you count smut then smutWord Count: ~6k
Summary: Jonghyun sometimes wonders what would have happened if he hadn't watched that damn video and let that little fucker into his life. Seriously. Things would be a lot less complicated, but he really can't complain. (youtube!AU)
a/n~ Welcome, lovelies. This fic was inspired by Nicole, who was talking about a youtubers!AU Jongtae the other day and I basically volunteered to write it because Jongtae and also cute AU? Yes?
I hope you all like it a lot, because I think it actually turned out well and OTP and yeah.
Jonghyun just so happens to be checking his phone during his lunch hour when Taemaximum just so happens to upload his newest video.
“He did another dance cover, oh my god,” his voice fades out into a silent breath as he drones on, forgetting to inhale. “Jinki. Jinki, please. Look. He’s dancing.”
Jonghyun’s best friend, the guy he’s been attached to as his older brother type protector since the third grade, just sort of rolls his eyes and ducks back into his container of General Tso’s. “Isn’t that what he got started doing videos about? What’s so special about another dance cover?”
See, Jonghyun’s used to his friend’s disinterest in his, well, interest. Jinki’s a bigger fan of that social justice vlogger with the really big eyes and really deep voice. While Taemaximum can’t measure up to Inho-May in Jinki’s eyes, he’s everything in Jonghyun’s. “Because,” Jonghyun starts, slurping down a noodle of Chow Mein. “While that’s were he started, Taem hasn’t done one in forever. He didn’t really get popular until he started doing song covers a couple of years ago, and he’s been sticking to them ever since. But!”
“But…”
“As someone who’s followed him from the very start, who fell for… uh… who liked him for the dances, it’s kind of a big freaking deal he’s posting dance videos again. This boy is gifted.”
Jinki chortles. “From the very start, a.k.a., you’ve been a total pedophile for nearly six years.”
“Taemint, not a pedophile,” he harrumphs, and that’s the end of that. “Besides, he’s like, twenty.”
Taemin, Taemaximum, is quite possibly the best thing to have ever happened to Jonghyun, and he’s always willing to express it.
---
Jonghyun found Taemin nearly six years ago, as his friend had earlier expressed, when the boy uploaded his dance cover of Lee Hyori’s “U-Go-Girl” with choreography designed completely by himself.
He pressed the subscribe button faster than he could even contemplate what he was doing, or why. The kid just had this magnetic pull; he gave off a distinct air of charisma with every pop and lock. Jonghyun was hooked.
The fanbase was small but it grew over the years, and now Taemaximum is rolling in the millions on his covers, fans multiplying by the day. Puberty worked to his advantage, as well, and Jonghyun would never deny the fact that the raven-haired guy on his computer screen is probably one of the most attractive motherfuckers to ever exist.
“I just want to punch him in the face,” Jonghyun groans, leaning back on his couch. It’s sort of an accurate description of his life as a fan, really; any Taemint out there has said the same exact thing at least once in their life.
His cousin, Kibum, stalls where he is on the other side of the room, fist full of popcorn hanging about three inches from his mouth. “Are you watching that glorified flower boy again? Jesus, Jjong, he looks like a girl.”
“He does not,” Jonghyun sits back up in a flash, mouth hanging open. “You’re such an asshole. He may be skinny as fuck but I swear to god, if I had the chance, I’d let him ram me up th-“
“I’m not listening to this.”
Jonghyun sighs, switching tabs to reblog yet another gifset of his youtuber. Ever since he’s started up with the dance covers again, his dash has been hopping. His only request from God right now is that Taemaximum never finds his blog, because his tags are rated R and not for the weak of heart. “You don’t understand, man.”
The blond chortles. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t understand because you’re a twenty-three year old man drooling over a kid you don’t even know on Valentine’s day. Which, by the way, is a day in which you should be spending with your significant other.” Jonghyun feels it, the sarcasm mounting in Kibum’s already acerbic tone. “Oh. Wait. I forgot you didn’t have one, because all you do is drool over a kid you don’t know on the internet.”
Jonghyun winces like that was a blow to the chest. Cruel, but true. “My being single has nothing to do with liking his videos.” Even as he says it, he can feel the pathetic wavering in his tone.
“Bull shit,” Kibum walks over, plopping down beside him. “Dude, you need to grow up and move on. You don’t know this guy, no matter how much research you do. You don’t even know his full name. You will probably never know him, either, so get off your ass, and go find a real life boyfriend.”
Jonghyun just sort of stares at the other. Kibum stares back.
He kind of has a point.
Jonghyun feels his face go red and there’s a panging in his chest, and even though it’s totally stupid and petty of him, he can’t help but feel like Kibum’s slap of reality has just stolen his greatest fantasy, his biggest dream. He gathers his laptop and blanket without a word and doesn’t stop when Kibum protests, tells him to come back. He finds solace in the way his door slams, the way his laptop screen lights up the darkness of his room when he shuts himself in.
“Screw Kibum,” Jonghyun decides, and he makes his way to Taemaximum’s channel to cheer himself up.
And then his mind reels. Most likely from excitement, because…
Taemaximum uploaded a video.
The “Valentine’s Day message” was put up only about a minute ago, it seems, and he thinks that fate is trying to make him happy, to keep his little haven alive. Jonghyun clicks on it, what appears to be a short, vlog-type video of Taemin. The thumbnail is this really dumb picture of they younger boy’s mouth half-open, eyes half-shut, like he’s in the middle of talking. “Dork,” Jonghyun mutters as he smiles to himself.
“Hello, my lovely Taemints~” the video starts off as usual, with his little wave, eyebrow lift, deep voice. “I’m here today to do a quick shout out to you guys. This isn’t me singing or dancing; I apologize. But! I’ve been told my voice is pretty nice, so I thought I’d just talk for once. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you, hasn’t it?”
Jonghyun is swooning. “Uh….” He’s also fighting back shivers because the rare few times in which Taemin has done these little chats, the fans have learned to appreciate the ‘ummm.’ Because damn, his voice is deep. Deep and throaty. “Well, I suppose the obvious is, happy Valentine’s Day! To those of you who have someone to cuddle up and watch this with, I hope your day was wonderful and romantic, as it should be. To those who, like me, are kind of forever alone, I hope you’re faring well, too. We should stick together in these times of trials.” Forever alone? Jonghyun is pretty sure everyone watching these videos wants to date Taemin.
“But yes, anyway, continuing. I shouldn’t say I’m forever alone, because I have you all. This Valentine’s Day, I’m giving you all my heart, because you, as my fans, deserve it the most. I love you guys! And in accordance with this, as your gift, I have created a Twitter account, and will be personally following the first one hundred people who follow me.”
Jonghyun’s heart stops, and he doesn’t even have time to reflect upon how sappy and sweet Taemin is being right now, because holy shit shit shit he has to get on Twitter now. Wait, what’s the username? Taemaximum again? The whole entire rest of the video drones on in the background, forgotten.
He tries it. @Taemaximum.
NINETY-EIGHT PEOPLE FOLLOW HIM HOLY EFFING-
Jonghyun presses the button faster than Jinki drops his pants for guys with long legs, adrenaline flooding his system. His hands are shaking so badly, he almost misses it.
When he refreshes it, the meter is at one hundred and one.
He pales. Did he make it? What if he was one oh one? His stomach is churning, and he may just throw up, because Jonghyun has never really been good at dealing with pressure. Or anything like this in general, like, fuck. He closes his eyes. If he made it, Taemin will follow him, right? There’s no good in totally destroying himself with anxiety until something actually happ-
Ding!
Jonghyun’s eyes fly open to the phone that’s resting on his nightstand. The screen is illuminated and there’s a single notification displayed, from Twitter.
Taemaximum is now following you.
Jonghyun screams so loudly and so shrilly that Kibum has to come in and yell at him for it, and any lingering suspicion that his neighbors may have had about his being straight are, by now, long gone.
Happy Valentines, indeed.
---
The following few days after Taemin adds him on Twitter, Jonghyun is so careful about what he posts and what’s already on his account that it hurts. He takes down a couple posts, and the slightly sexual fanboy tweets that he’s known for in their fandom kind of come to a screeching halt.
He tweets a picture of his dog and three people unfollow him.
But a few hours later and Taemin favorites it. It sort of sends his heart soaring, which is why he’s at work, on break, hiding behind Jinki while batting his eyelashes at his phone. The older trash-talks him all day for it, too, laughing at the way he practically jumps each time he gets a notification.
“You’re obsessed,” Jinki says, matter-of-factly, in response to the fact that his ringtone is Taemin’s dumb version of EXO’s “MAMA.”
Jonghyun feels his stomach sink. He’s right, so right, and he feels almost pitiful for it. Jonghyun is absolutely fucking obsessed with a boy on the internet, so much so that it’s actually sort of painful. “Shut up, man. It makes me smile.”
The other sighs, leaning back in his chair as he sloshes around what’s left of his third trenta of iced Americano. “No, but dude. You said you have him on twitter now, right? Why not send him a message or something?”
Cue vehement head shaking from the younger. “No, you don’t understand.”
“If I had a dollar for every fucking time you said that.”
“I can’t message him. That would singlehandedly bring my entire world to a screeching halt.”
Jinki rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, reaching out for Jonghyun’s phone. Before the other can protest, he holds it high above his head (Jonghyun’s greatest weakness) and opens up his Twitter app.
Jonghyun lets out a noise that’s halfway between a squeal and a gasp, but he doesn’t care. Jinki’s typing out a DM to the object of his slightly obsessive affections and he’s going to die. Taemin will unfollow him and get a restraining order and Jesus Christ he’s going to kill Jinki.
When he finally wrestles the phone back, Jinki had already been able to send out a message. “Hi, I’m Jonghyun. I’m your number one fan and I worship your ass more than a priest worships God.”
“Fuck. You.” It comes out like a growl, and Jinki smirks.
“You’ll thank me later.”
As Jinki walks away, Jonghyun scrawls out an “I’m sorry, my friend just stole my phone,” faster than he added the younger man in the first place.
---
He gets his reply about an hour later while he’s cleaning out the aquatic animal tanks. Petco for life. “haha it’s all good. i appreciate the compliment.” Then, a few seconds later, “hi, i’m taemin, and i believe in capitalization as much as perez hilton believes in being a decent person”
Jonghyun nearly drops his phone in the aquarium. And he doubts the snapping turtles would have let him have it back that easily. This guy is perfect? Actually fucking perfect??? Much wonderful.
He quickly realizes that he’s only able to think in incoherent symbols and really old tumblr memes. “If my phone didn’t do it for me I would agree with you wholeheartedly.”
Did he just talk to Taemin like, regularly? Not that Jonghyun doesn’t see him as a regular person, or anything, it’s just… what?
He’s totally not going to respond.
“haha, gotta love autocorrect. i had to turn it off tho bc it kept changing fucking to ducking and I accidentally told my professor i was getting sex and not that I was getting sick”
His heart is going to give out. He feels it. “I’d rather be getting sex tbh. Autocorrect knows what we really want.”
“dude yes.” Jonghyun has completely forgotten about the fish and turtles and sporadic crustaceans by now, is completely absorbed in the way his blood is rushing, his chest is contracting, his hands are shaking. He fears his knees might even go out, so he has to hop down off of the stepladder (he isn’t as tall as Jinki is, it’s a complex) to collect himself. “also you’re the first person to actually talk to me on private here and i rly appreciate it” then “not to be creepy or anything but i like your profile pic is that your dog?”
He’s going to tell Roo all about this when he gets home, holy shit. “Yes she’s my baby and you’re not creepy at all, if anything, I’m the creepy one because I watch videos of you all the time” he did not just send that oh fuck gotta lighten the mood with a tactical aversion- “lol.”
“haha nah it’s cool i watch videos of me all day too”
He’s perfect and no one will ever convince Jonghyun otherwise.
Except his floor manager, who is now standing over him with a really angry face. “What have I told you about using your phone on the job?”
“That I shouldn’t,” Jonghyun squeaks in reply, shutting it off and slipping it in his pocket, ambling back up to do what he was supposed to.
He’ll just respond later. Also thank Jinki. Maybe.
---
His conversations with Taemin go on and on, growing to the point where Taemin asks Jonghyun if he’d like to move to kakaotalk or just plain text.
Jonghyun thinks that Taemin is secretly out to kill him. In one of their conversations, Jonghyun told him that he’d been watching him since the “U-Go-Girl” dance and Taemin seriously thanked him for like twenty minutes because he couldn’t comprehend how Jonghyun could have stuck with him for so long.
Kill. Taemin is going to make him die a premature death.
But he adds “Lee Taemin” anyway, all the while telling Kibum all about what’s been going on. His cousin is largely ignoring, him, though, but Jonghyun doesn’t really care. He just keeps going.
“Yesterday he sent me a selca when he was at Yogurtland. You know, cause we both like frozen yogurt.”
“Wow,” Kibum responds, “how strange. Frozen yogurt is so rare a food to like.”
The silver-blond huffs, shaking his head. “The point is, he thought of me while he went to get it. He even got my favorite kind. I’ve become a big enough part of his life for him to think about me.”
Kibum finally looks over towards him, brow raised. “That’s… well, okay, I guess I’m happy for you? But how long have you guys been talking?”
Jonghyun feels a smile slip onto his face. “A couple of weeks.”
“Jesus f- wow. And he hasn’t run away yet? You still think he’s perfect?”
A slight bit of hurt flashes through his eyes with his cousin’s comment, but Jonghyun remains smiling. “No and yes. We click, Kibum. Click.”
The blond’s eyes narrow. “Please get your sappy romanticism away from me, it’s clogging my pores.”
Jonghyun would be more offended if Kibum wasn’t like this literally all the time. He stands and figures that he’s bothered his cousin enough, retreating back to his room (in a much less angry manner than the last time), where he continues to ignore everything except the way he and Taemin are literally the perfect match.
It goes like this, day after day, until the both of them are falling asleep on their phones, too tired to even type, so they have to send those really convenient voice messages instead.
“Goomph nigh.”
Jonghyun grins. He wishes he could save these, keep them forever. “Night.”
---
“we should do a vid chat,” Taemin says, one day, when Jonghyun is shoving his mouth with snack cakes and watching reruns of MTV’s “Catfish.”
Of course, Jonghyun jumps. He then proceeds to panic, type out an affirmative response, and then panic some more, all the while looking for an appropriate shirt and pants combination. “Yeah sure one sec I have to clean up my room”
Big fucking lie, but it’s buying him time.
About five minutes later he’s groomed the way he feels most comfortable, fixing his hair until it falls perfectly on his forehead. It’s a good thing Kibum isn’t home, either, because there would be some serious teasing going on if he was. Jonghyun presses the call button, and Taemin picks up after the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” the younger breathes, and even though Jonghyun has heard his voice hundreds of times, it still sends chills down his spine.
Jonghyun smiles, leaning back in his desk chair. He never actually uses the desk, to be honest, which is why it’s piled high with notebooks and food trash he’s too lazy to throw away. “Hey, man,” gotta sound like a bro, “what’s up?”
Taemin shrugs. Jonghyun has to take a moment to laugh at how Taemin isn’t really good at getting the camera angle on his phone right (his selcas are like this, too), because Jonghyun’s getting a nice view of some double-chin action. “Not much. I’m sorry I didn’t give you much warning on the call; I kinda just got bored and was like, ‘hey, I want to video call my man Jonghyun.’”
His man Jonghyun. “It’s cool, I totally understand.”
“Hmmm, yeah. It’s times like these where I kind of wish we lived closer? I’m the type who likes to show up unannounced on people’s doorsteps with food and movies. You’d probably get sick of me, though.”
It’s not like they live that far away from each other, just that Jonghyun can’t legally drive himself anywhere and Taemin’s really busy at home. Which is okay. They’re only a city apart, though, which is really thrilling. “I could never get sick of you,” the elder laughs, and Taemin smiles.
“I’m also trying to pick out the song for my next video. Care to help me out?”
Jonghyun nods. “Sure, sure. What are you looking for?”
Taemin does that hum, that really hot low pitched one, and Jonghyun has to exert an inhuman amount of self-control to not think dirty thoughts. “Something soulful. I did a pop number last time, I’m sick of those.”
“You came to the right guy,” Jonghyun laughs. “Whenever I want to sing soul, I usually throwback to Michael Jackson, or something. How about ‘Billie Jean?’”
“That’s perfect and- wait. You sing? How come I didn’t know this?”
Jonghyun bites the inside of his cheek. Crap. “Uh… because I don’t tell people? My friend Jinki and I were in a band in high school. Rock band. Dark times.”
Taemin’s eyes go wide. “I NEED PICTURES AND VIDEOS NOW-“
“Shhh.” Jonghyun shakes his head, eyes closed. “I tend to not like to revisit the band days. My hair was this ungodly spiked mess, I looked like a freaking porcupine.”
“Oh my god, that’s fantastic,” the younger laughs. “You should sing for me, then, if I don’t get pictures.” Jonghyun can feel the tips of his ears radiating heat.
“Really?” He questions, and the younger man nods. So, he scans his mind for songs and settles upon one he’s heard Taemin do before. “Uh, okay. No rock, though. I still have nightmares about screamo music.” Pause. Breath. Breathe, Jonghyun. “Here goes nothing.”
The one he does is Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours,” and Taemin’s eyes immediately light up. His English is actually awful, though, and he can see a couple of times in which Taem will find something amusing and laugh. But when he finishes, Taemin claps, and he feels like he’s just crossed the finish line for a really tough marathon. “Your voice is incredible,” the other boy gushes.
Jonghyun just kind of shakes his head. “Not even. Yours is much nicer.”
“No, no,” Taemin protests. “I genuinely really love your voice. I know this is our first video chat or whatever, but even when you’re not singing, like when you were talking earlier or when we send those voice messages, it’s really nice and I just like listening in general. How come you never tried out youtube? I’m sure you would have blown up bigger than I have.”
He honestly can’t take the fact that his own idol is praising him like this. “I didn’t think it’d work out for me? I also don’t have the work ethic. Am I really that good?”
Taemin sends him one of those dreamy smiles from across the screen. “Yes, you are. So much so that I’m kind of… well, itching to ask you to collaborate with me on a song or something.”
“What.”
“I’ve never done a duet with anyone before, at least, for singing, but I just get this feeling that our voices would just mesh, you know?”
Jonghyun does know. Their voices along with every other part of them. “Uh, y-yeah, of course. Actually, now that you mention it, I think so, too. It’d be a great idea.”
He chuckles. “And, of course, with your good looks, you’d probably steal all my viewers.”
Jonghyun just may die. Taemin is out to kill him. “He… he…” think coherently, Jjong, he can see your stupid fucking face, “if, uh, if we were to do this collab, then when and where?”
“My studio, probably?” Taemin looks out to the corner of the screen, frowning as if he’s thinking to himself. Jonghyun almost does that thing where he sighs because he just really likes looking at Taemin’s face. “You live in Seoul, and I’m in Incheon, so we could meet up a couple of times to discuss stuff pretty easily when neither of us are busy, yeah? Actually, I’ll be in Seoul to visit my parents in about a week, so I could drop by your place then, if you wanted.”
Jonghyun just sort of… blinks.
“I mean, I don’t have to; I’d hate to impose or someth-“
“No, no, it’s totally okay and I’d really love to have you over. When do you think it’d be? I’ll kick my cousin out and buy snacks.”
Taemin’s smile is just breathtaking, Jonghyun thinks. He loves it almost as much as he loves the fact that Taemin has a tendency to show his indifference whenever he isn’t doing/talking about something he really loves. Taemin is expressive; his eyes, face, always show just what he’s thinking. And right now he’s happy, and Jonghyun just can’t fathom the fact that it’s because of him. “Next Thursday,” he says. “I can’t wait.”
Jonghyun can’t, either, to be completely honest.
---
“Welcome to my… apartment.”
“It’s really nice.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
Taemin chuckles as he passes Jonghyun into the tiny foyer, continuing into the living room/kitchen combination. When the older shuts and locks the door behind him, he looks up to see that the raven-haired man has turned and is waiting for him to follow along (or show him the way, he’s not really sure which).
Taemin is really stunning in person. Jonghyun knew he would be, really; how could he not? From the very first dance video, Jonghyun has known that Taemin is thin and lanky, with long legs and an in-general lean body. But here, in front of him, he can really measure the way light glints from his eyes like he’s a cat, mischievous and cunning. His hair is unkempt and wavy, shoved haphazardly underneath a baseball cap that he can’t read because he’s just not that good at English.
“You said you’d have snacks,” Taemin kicks up the conversation, snapping the elder from his trance.
Jonghyun’s lips split into a smirk. “You just came for my food, didn’t you?”
Pushing past, he ignores those enchanting eyes and opens up his cabinets, pulling out chips and sweets alike. Taemin trails behind, too, hovering a little bit behind him. “Maybe,” he admits, quietly, and they both laugh. Taemin takes a beer from the fridge.
Then, as their conversation starts coming a little more easily, the time passes, and Jonghyun slips back into his weird mindset, the awkward, totally uncool one. The one that’s still a big fucking fan of Taemin, Taemaximum, the one that wants to reach out and give him a hug. But he has to shake that off. He can’t be that guy. They’re friends now, have been for a while, and he can’t keep up with that sort of mentality.
But at the same time, it’s so hard. Like, shit. Here he is in all his attractive, masculine glory, Adam’s apple bobbing, deep voice reverberating off of the walls. His mind is taking him back to the nights in which he’d wake up in a cold sweat from dreaming about less than chaste liaisons with the younger, each vision vivid and so painfully real that he’d spend the next few minutes in the bathroom taking care of business.
It doesn’t help that Jonghyun can smell him-
“Are you okay?” Taemin has to question, because ever since they’ve moved to the couch, Jonghyun’s zoning out has been especially prominent, and he’s kind of sorry about that.
He’s also really sorry about the fact that he’s getting a hard-on.
Really sorry. “Yeah, man, I’m good. Must not have gotten a lot of sleep last night.”
Taemin’s arches a brow and Jonghyun nearly loses it right there. “Oh? I didn’t think you were seeing anyone…”
“I’m not,” the blond almost chokes.
This only seems to further the innuendo, and the blood that isn’t occupying his dick is rushing to his face. “I also didn’t mean it like that,” he says, and shakes his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Taemin breaks the awkward tension with his smirk and good nature. “But, uh, I have something to say, now? That kinda made me remember something I wanted to say before I left.”
“I’ll try not to space out on you,” he mutters in response, apprehension seeping into his mind, churning his stomach.
Taemin must know. How could he not? “Honesty time, then. Let’s say my intentions in coming here today were a little more than just, you know, chilling as friends and discussing the collab. Let’s say that yours haven’t really been all that pure, either.”
Jonghyun raises his own brow because that wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to hear, shifting back on the couch just a bit in an attempt to hide his painfully awkward half-boner. “Uh… huh?”
“Let’s say,” he continues, “that, ever since that first chat, I’ve found you charming? Ever since the first video call, I’ve thought you were unbelievably handsome and adorable? And ever since that one time on the phone, I’ve really been attracted to you? Let’s just say that, theoretically, all of those things are true.”
His heart has stopped beating. “And, theoretically, if they were? If I returned them, but a bit more creepily, because I’ve been following you on the internet and have no life?”
Taemin is close. So close that it’s causing this otherworldly sensation smack-dab in the center of his ribcage, and as time passes, the intensity in Taemin’s eyes sends this heat to the pit of his stomach. “Theoretically, I’d have to say, that I’d really want to do what I came for, then.”
Jonghyun is, surprisingly, the one that ends up closing the distance between them. This whole month of friendship and Jonghyun has never initiated anything on his own. But this, this is different, and he’s almost sure Taemin wouldn’t have done it had he not helped out.
His lips find Taemin’s almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed. He keeps his hands to himself almost as a sort of precaution, because he’s still sort of confused as to whether or not he’s doing the right thing, but then the younger boy’s seemingly delicate hands find their way to his waist, gripping him there. Jonghyun winds his arms around Taemin’s neck and takes a breath as they part for air, going back in to have his stolen once again. Taemin tastes like coffee, like restless nights and unanswered questions.
Taemin bites down on Jonghyun’s lower lip and their noses bump together, so the blond tilts his head to the side, darting his tongue out to run a line on Taemin’s own lips. This seems to elicit a positive response, causing the younger to open up his mouth and press his body flush against Jonghyun’s.
The friction, the heat, it’s dizzying.
Jonghyun’s crotch is beyond restricted in his pants, now, with Taemin slowly working their tongues together, slowly pushing him back so that they’re nearly horizontal. “Is this too fast?” Taemin asks, “for you, I mean. Because I’m okay with this. More than okay.”
“Stop talking,” Jonghyun urges, and Taemin returns to his lips, fisting his hands in the cotton of the elder’s t-shirt.
Taemin works his way between Jonghyun’s legs, grinding down onto the shorter man’s erection with a similar one of his own. “Fuck,” Taemin shudders, and Jonghyun really has to agree with him.
His thoughts scatter as the grinding continues, and he really just wants Taemin inside of him, now. It’s maddening the way the dancer’s hips work with his, the way Taemin drags his shirt up along his torso, stripping it from his body and tossing it away. Jonghyun finds himself lacking a shirt not too long after that, but it’s quite all right.
How did he go from watching Taemin on fucking youtube to (possibly) getting fucked by him? How the hell did this even happen?
Taemin cups at Jonghyun’s crotch, squeezing just a bit, rubbing his length through the denim with the pad of his thumb. “Hyung, can I-“ Jonghyun cuts him off with a nod. The way that boy says ‘hyung’ has him all sorts of needy.
The younger unzips his jeans and works them off, baring legs that haven’t seen the light of day in a good ten years. Those fucking hands work his thighs, massaging, and he leans in and presses kisses there, getting closer and closer to his groin. Taemin’s fingers hook around his boxer shorts and his cock is freed. He pumps the shaft a few times, tongue flicking out to lap up the precum that slowly oozes from the tip. “Suck me off,” Jonghyun grows bolder, and Taemin obliges.
The raven-haired boy’s lips were built for sucking cock, he quickly comes to realize, because Taemin can fucking do it right. With each bob of his head, each graze of teeth, each stroke of tongue, Jonghyun comes closer and closer to losing it.
He threads his fingers through Taemin’s hair and pulls the younger man up before he actually can lose it. Jonghyun intends to have as much fun with this as possible, after all. Taemin gets the hint, though, and reattaches his mouth to Jonghyun’s. The shorter man sits up a bit, moving to work the belt buckle on Taemin’s skin-tight pants, eventually having to break the kiss to focus on that alone. Taemin laughs at him, but Jonghyun likes to think that belts are like the bras of gay sex, which is why he makes a point of not wearing them.
Taemin is hard and thick, his girth filling Jonghyun’s fist, and he really, really wants Taemin to fuck him. He hasn’t had a good lay in maybe a year, and even then it was a (really drunk) pity fuck on Jinki’s part. Taemin isn’t as thick but he’s certainly got the length going for him, so there’s that.
“Fuck me,” he pants, and Taemin grins, using his strength to guide Jonghyun from his seated position on the couch to the carpet, on his hands and knees. No words spared, Taemin grips his ass from behind, reaching around to Jonghyun’s already bruised lips to have him coat his fingers with saliva. He does exactly this, too, moaning around the younger man’s fingers like he’s too needy to function.
Taemin works one finger into Jonghyun’s hole and the elder licks his lips, bracing himself for the second, the third. He knows the drill. If only it hadn’t been so fucking long, then maybe they could have jumped right into it.
After a bit of scissoring and some stroking to keep his dick up, Taemin is slicking his cock with his own spit and positioning it at Jonghyun’s entrance. Jonghyun feels a familiar heat pooling in his groin, and if Taemin wasn’t pushing in, he’d reach up to jack himself off. “You’re so… fuck, tell me when.”
Jonghyun clenches his teeth as Taemin inches in, a little bit of pain shooting through, but it’s bearable. And by the time Taemin has filled him, Jonghyun rocks back on the younger’s dick. “Now, Taem, move.”
Taemin starts to thrust in, holding Jonghyun by the waist. It’s slow and painstakingly tedious at first, but then he picks up the pace and Jonghyun can sense the prelude of his release in the way Taemin strokes his prostate to life. Jonghyun is left moaning, wrecked, when the younger slams in and it’s all he can do to hold back what he knows is coming. The pleasure is mounting; he can feel the prickling sensation licking up his body and shit, his arms are going to give out. “Oh my God, Taem, touch me.”
“I’m so fucking close,” the other grasps Jonghyun’s dick, hand slipping up and down until neither of them can even form words, they’re that far gone.
Jonghyun cums around the same time as Taemin’s throbbing cock shoves in one last shallow time, warm ropes of sticky cum shooting on his chest and rolling off on Taemin’s hand. They both kind of fall there, and Jonghyun can feel Taemin’s seed drip when he pulls out the same way he feels the stiffness of his joints after he returns to a bit of lucidity.
It takes the both of them quite a while to catch their breath, and even then, they’re reluctant to get off the floor. “We should do this more often,” Taemin mutters, and Jonghyun can only roll over into his chest and nod.
---
“Hey, Jinki?”
The older man looks up from the doghouse he’s currently working on assembling, a brow quirked. “What’s up, Jonghyun?”
“Thanks.”
Jinki didn’t need to ask why.
---
When they actually do set aside time from their now busy dating schedule to do the collaboration, Jonghyun and Taemin make sure that it’s absolutely perfect.
For one, Taemin decides to use some of his ad money to buy a new studio microphone, for extra-high quality sound. They then proceed to spend hours working on the perfect song, which ends up being written by Jonghyun to the tune of some Corbin Bleu track. Taemin’s going to play the piano and Jonghyun’s set on guitar, and they’re so excited they forget to press the record button on the camera the first go-around.
But when they actually get it, the take comes out wonderfully. “I almost want to skip editing and just post it,” Taemin mutters, pressing pause. “We seriously killed it.”
“You could do that,” Jonghyun shrugs and takes off the clunky recording headphones. “And you’re right. We did kill it. Also, do I get to do that intro with you? You know, announce myself as your duet partner and-“
“Boyfriend?” There’s the eyebrow. Taemin always has to throw in the eyebrow.
“I prefer the term, uh, significant other. Boyfriend sounds so juvenile.”
Taemin snorts. “You’re so weird, but yeah. Is that okay, revealing your identity? You may get mobs of angry fangirls.”
Jonghyun just smiles. “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
He still needs to delete his tumblr, though.