[Fic] Best Laid Plans
Title: Best Laid Plans
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongdae/Joonmyun
Warning: Sexual situations, rimming.
Summary: Jongdae the seducer and Joonmyun the one running away.
A/N: The prompt also included rimming ^^
***
They’d known each other three years, give or take. Three years, two months, a handful of days. Jongdae hadn’t wanted him all that time. If there was any one thing Joonmyun was sure of, it was that. Mostly he knew that because he’d been in his senior year of college, with glasses half the size of his face and his hair rather unfortunately parted because he was too cheap to get it cut. Of course, that had lasted until he’d seen his mother who’d marched him straight to a pair of scissors - and then he’d had the exact opposite problem of unattractive hair. It was a year if it was anything before he’d even spoken to Jongdae for more than five minutes. His hair had grown out, suitably styled since he was gainfully employed, and he had the money to go see a movie, or troll a noraebang, or spend an afternoon poking at electronics and then dinner for no better reason than because someone needed a new phone.
The congenial general, was what his mother had called him. Joonmyun had had a habit of getting his friends to see things his way, want the food he wanted, play the games he wanted to play. And if he couldn’t, he went along. He’d mostly taken it as a compliment. It was therefore no great surprise that his foray into the world of adulthood was in event planning. Not children’s parties and balloons, no, but corporate getaways, and fundraisers, and the occasional lavish wedding. He was officially second rung from the bottom of the ladder, just above the boy who fetched faxes and mailed letters and made coffee, when Jongdae had actually looked at him.
“Where do you buy your pants?”
Joonmyun blinked at Jongdae, a plastic-wrapped rice ball from a convenience store in one hand and a steaming cup of ramen in the other.
“What?”
“Your pants,” Jongdae said, waving at the black slacks Joonmyun had worn to work that day. “Where did you get them? They fit nice.”
The expression on Jongdae’s face was so bland as to be nonexistent, save for the tiny glint of humor in his eyes. Had it been full on amused, Joonmyun would have thought he was joking. Had he been innocent-faced as though trying to hide a tease, Joonmyun would’ve spotted it. As it was, he gulped, and felt his face go hot. They fit nice. A bland face. Almost like Jongdae was…
Flirting.
“I’ll text you the brand,” Joonmyun assured him, taking himself and his food to the other side of Fort Kyungsoo. He’d spent the next half hour trying to will himself not to think of fun ways his pants could come off, and then wondering where that tease had even come from. He conceded after flattering himself with the thought that - had he been prepared! - he might have flirted back, or at least answered more coolly, that there had been no real hope of either scenario. “Your pants fit nice, too” made him sound like he was floundering. “Want to feel how nice?” - well. That sounded a little desperate. And Jongdae was cute enough not to need desperate. He had that jawline that Joonmyun wished he could sketch. With a pencil or his tongue, that really didn’t matter. He paid a little bit more attention to it after that night, even if he’d mostly convinced himself that he’d misinterpreted a perfectly innocent situation.
Those were the first pair of pants that Jongdae had flattered, but not the last pair Jongdae got himself into. There was a boyfriend, a few weeks out from that who lasted all of a heartbeat and a hickey. And another a couple weeks later, that lasted a solid two months.
Joonmyun was envious. Not just of Jongdae dating someone, but that he was dating. Joonmyun was dating his job, with the odd night out to have an affair of free time with his friends, only to repeat all over again. It gratified him when Mr. Lee-ten-years-employed-and-head-of-weddings gave him curious glances. Cautious ones, too. No one ever wanted to be upstaged. Joonmyun made it to the third rung up, and started planning smaller events himself.
It was pure luck he didn’t have an ulcer by the time he’d been granted supervision over the very bottom tier, and subsequent promotion to Overseer of the Cultivation of Relationships with Caterers (in addition to other small events). Or that’s what he called himself in his head. Mostly he was nice enough that when he called to change schedules, usually moving them closer, or making changes to the menu - adding an extra dish to suit someone’s digestion requirements - he didn’t get chewed into small and ripply shreds. Food could not be made at the drop of a hat, he learned. Menus needed finesse. Removing an entire two days of preparation time just wasn’t feasible.
Except when it was, and usually with a little bit of extra compensation, and a smile and all but kissing the caterer’s feet after the events.
Somewhere around there he might’ve developed a small ulcer. Or maybe the constant burning had been due to the fact that every time he looked up when he met his friends, he ended up looking at Jongdae. And the next week, his glasses back on after cleaning them, he found Jongdae smirking at him. Maybe that word was too strong for the curling at the corners of Jongdae’s mouth, but it made him pause. It was a look of amusement, of interest.
It wasn’t the first time in those three years that they’d both been single, and it wasn’t exactly fear that fueled his avoidance. It was caution. A well-timed dark look at Kyungsoo stilled his tongue, but not his eyes, because he saw more than Joonmyun even. And then, of course, Kyungsoo told him all about it. The way Jongdae watched him, the way he spoke so highly of him, when Joonmyun wasn’t there.
“Seems like a pretty big crush to me,” Kyungsoo said, his body draped across a wide footstool with his head hanging off one side.
Joonmyun wasn’t sure what about that angle made Kyungsoo look more sinister, possibly because he had his eyebrows drawn down so far to focus. Joonmyun resisted the urge to put his foot on Kyungsoo’s face, who seemed to read his half-intention with a raised fist.
Joonmyun might have argued that they’d known each other a while, and there was no reason for some sudden crush. But it wasn’t sudden. It was denial, and it was opportunity, and perhaps Jongdae sussing out if he was interested. The touch of Jongdae’s hand against Joonmyun’s side, the way he leaned in when Joonmyun spoke.
“You look nice tonight,” Jongdae said, not half an hour after their conversation.
Joonmyun wasn’t wearing anything special, a blue sweater and gray pants.
“Thanks,” Joonmyun said, the only thing that came to mind.
“You probably haven’t heard yet, but my company is throwing a retirement party. At my suggestion, we’re getting you guys to plan it.”
“Oh?”
The most succinct and ridiculous answer Joonmyun could have conjured.
“Hopefully it’ll be fun,” Jongdae said, and handed Joonmyun a drink.
That Joonmyun could smile to, even if it went with a laugh that felt just a touch past giddy.
***
Joonmyun dated, and was genial about it. That sounded conceited, as though he had no actual care of who he was dating. That wasn’t always the case. Sometimes, he’d went through the whole mating procedure it seemed, from unrequited crushes, to awkward first dates, kisses that either flopped or soared, good, great, and indifferent sex. And the breakups. Inevitably. Sometimes because of the indifferent sex, or the flopped first kisses - not all of which were on him in any case. Sometimes because there wasn’t enough there to hold them together. He tried to be gracious about it, whether he was doing the ending or not, though at times he could feel his teeth grinding together as he was being broken up with. Sometimes that was because there was regret, and sometimes because it was being done like a jackass. There was always one of those around. Some people thought they had to tear someone down to justify breaking up with them. Sometimes it was done as nicely as possible, on both sides. Look, this isn’t working out.
Of course, it didn’t matter how congenial it was, it always seemed to sting a little bit more when the words “there’s someone else” came into play.
***
It took a pair of wire-rimmed glasses to undo him.
In reality, it took a lot more than that, but his brain lapsed in a quick one-two punch, as Jongdae rounded the corner at the retirement party in his jacket and bow tie. They’d been emailing each other for a couple of weeks, all very professional. It was strange that the reserve of it, the efficiency that Jongdae displayed, was as much of a turn-on as his smile.
Jongdae was early, as they’d planned, for a quick run-through. It had been Jongdae’s suggestion, before Joonmyun could even ask what his preference was.
It meant that they were alone. No friends. No guests. Just an empty staging room where tables and chairs had been set up from, and where Joonmyun’s binder of information was being kept.
“You made it,” Joonmyun said, and felt strangely boxed in with half a room behind him. “Everyone right behind you?”
“Ten minutes,” Jongdae confirmed. “Everything looked great in the main room.”
“I’m glad. We got it set up earlier. We’ll try and make sure it goes off as smoothly as possible.”
Never perfect, Joonmyun thought. He couldn’t promise that, or jinx them all by saying it. But his breath caught as Jongdae took another step closer.
“You look nice,” Jongdae said, smoothing the backs of his fingers down Joonmyun’s red and blue tie. “Is this a three-piece? Oh. That’s my favorite.”
Jongdae’s finger catching the edge of Joonmyun’s vest beneath his jacket was nothing to what his eyes were doing, conveying how much he’d be interesting in taking each piece off. That Joonmyun’s mind followed that train of thought had him clearing his throat, brushing Jongdae’s hand aside.
“I need to get back to the caterer.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Because all he needed was Jongdae at his elbow, fingers touching the small of Joonmyun’s back. From the moment he’d settled up with the caterers, to after the guests trickled in, Jongdae had never been more than twenty feet away. Discreetly, of course, mingling with his coworkers, but always seemingly turned toward Joonmyun. Every so often he’d wander by, and the question in the back of Joonmyun’s mind had been hoping that Jongdae’s coworkers didn’t think he had hired an incompetent planner. Joonmyun’s job was to be there, make things happen, without any of the guests having to hold his hand.
Joonmyun received thanks from several of the attendees. Smiling, denying that it had been too much work, and perhaps spending an extra moment saying that it had been very easy to work with Jongdae. Maybe they’d think it was kissing up if they knew that he and Jongdae were friends, but to his mind it was harmless, as well as well-deserved.
“You’ve made me look good,” Jongdae said, nearly in his ear. The last people had just left, and Joonmyun was waiting a moment in case someone returned to retrieve something. Then he’d do his sweep for lost items, and let the crew in to clean up.
But Joonmyun couldn’t help his quick glance down Jongdae’s chest and back up. He certainly had no hand in making Jongdae look the way he did, and though the joke was quick to his mind, he settled on the true interpretation.
“It was an easy kind of event to plan. Everyone seemed happy that talked to me.”
“Now I’ll get assigned to organize all the events going forward," Jongdae said, his laugh racing through the small space.
But Joonmyun could not resist the tease. “You have my number.”
“I do,” Jongdae said.
And a moment before Joonmyun looked away, Jongdae reached for him. Joonmyun’s elbows lifted almost on instinct, but it was his hip that Jongdae’s hand settled on.
“I was wondering-“
“Not here,” Joonmyun said.
“Then I’ll help you finish up.”
“You don’t-“
“What can I do to help?” Jongdae asked, smiling at him.
***
“You said not there,” Jongdae murmured.
Agreeing to go to with Jongdae to his apartment had been a choice.
Standing in Jongdae’s kitchen when Jongdae suggested he take off his jacket and smiling had been something akin to invitation. Cute as a seduction technique. He was going to have to remember that. Brazen Joonmyun, the one in his mind, said he should offer to have Jongdae take it off for him. Help with the buttons. The Joonmyun rooted in reality went a bit wide in the eye even as he smiled. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything as his brain tried to catch up to his surroundings. Life had no pause button to his eternal regret.
Jongdae stepped forward. “Sorry, I can’t-“
That was all it took, like a door sliding open. Jongdae’s hand on his face, tipping him into the kiss. Not as though he had to be urged, but the fingers on his face were such dark pleasure - and assurance. Jongdae’s need, as they stepped together.
He wasn’t thinking of the kisses he’d had. The soft, the desperate, the dominating. Somewhere in the back of his head was Jongdae’s grin, cold spring air and Jongdae’s hand on his shoulder. And he was steady as Jongdae pulled away, staring at him and making a sound that wasn’t any language Joonmyun had heard of.
It was then he was sure, as Jongdae gripped his arm and he felt the phantom presses of Jongdae’s lips.
“Come with me,” Jongdae said.
And Joonmyun was surprised to find himself against the wall between Jongdae’s bedroom and bathroom, tilting his head one way, and then back as Jongdae sucked against the skin of his neck. In his mind he could see Jongdae’s mouth tilting, that little smile full of promise, and forever causing Joonmyun’s fingers to curl. He just had to enjoy that moment. His fingertips traced over the ends of Jongdae’s suit jacket and then relaxed at his side again.
“Are you going to leave a mark?” Joonmyun asked, and felt his body pulse as Jongdae’s lips slid, silky against his skin. But his breath caught as Jongdae gripped his hips, and there was no hiding the slide of erection against erection.
“I wanted to do this all night,” Jongdae said. “Get you in some dark corner, rub against you until you didn’t care about finger foods, or how many tables needed clearing.”
“My job.” But not his job then, as Jongdae nuzzled his face. He didn’t care about finger foods, or tables, or lists. “Jongdae.”
“Now I just want inside you. You want that? Or…”
His fingers curled in the corners of Jongdae’s pockets, tugging. Down, closer, both.
“Yes. Not just tonight.”
“Me too.”
Jongdae lifted his hand, and with his eyes on Joonmyun’s, kissed his palm. The shock, the utter shock of that, had his knees moving of their own volition, following Jongdae through the open door and toward the blue-swathed bed with the turned-down covers.
The raunchy grinding, the tender kiss, it kept him off balance. Maybe he’d expected making out. Maybe he’d wondered. Being wanted by a friend wasn’t his every day experience. It made it easier. It made it harder. He heard Jongdae’s laugh in a new light, as Joonmyun’s suit jacket was tossed onto a chair. He heard it fade into a moan as Joonmyun’s hands slid up under Jongdae’s shirt, skin against skin as Jongdae sucked a new mark into his skin - holding him by his tie.
“Why didn’t we do this months ago?” Jongdae asked.
Jongdae had been dating someone else then, was one answer. A little too logical to say aloud as he was being divested of his tie, vest, and then his shirt. Jongdae was savoring each conquered piece, and he was driving Joonmyun beyond reason. The undone bow tie, the buttons of Jongdae’s shirt, they were all a barrier. His fingers were fumbling out of need more than nerves. But he thanked everything that Jongdae wore no belt. The zipper fled, and his hand cupped the front of Jongdae’s underwear, even as he sucked on Jongdae’s tongue.
The insistent tug of cloth, the slide of it, knees bumping, skin to skin as he wrapped his arm around Jongdae’s ribs. And he kept it there, all but pulling Jongdae after him onto the bed. He was surrounded by Jongdae’s scent, laid out beside him as they matched each other, kiss for kiss, touch for touch.
His hand was in Joonmyun’s hair when Jongdae said, “Kyungsoo made me think this was even possible.”
“What?”
Joonmyun wondered if Kyungsoo got a sudden pain in his head from pointed thoughts Joonmyun was sending his way, and Jongdae chuckled.
“He didn’t tell me you wanted me. But…he didn’t tell me no, either.”
Joonmyun could’ve been flip, told Jongdae he hadn’t gotten laid in a while. That was true. The proof of Joonmyun’s want was quite literally at Jongdae’s fingertips. And it still took a minute of Jongdae’s teasing kisses, before he got to the end of his thought. Jongdae had asked Kyungsoo about him. It wasn’t spur of the moment, an off chance occurrence. His mouth opened against Jongdae’s, moaning and groping until he got what he wanted, stroking Jongdae’s cock and feeling him rumble. Two could play those games. Two of them in bed. Two of them needing.
He hissed as Jongdae moaned.
“I wanted you to enjoy this,” Jongdae protested, rocking into Joonmyun’s hand. And it made Joonmyun smile, gasping out a laugh.
“I am.”
Jongdae sputtered at him, grasped him and rolled him, until Jongdae hovered over him.
“Going to make you feel so good,” Jongdae promised.
He liked that confidence. But enjoying it, that was one thing that Joonmyun didn’t doubt - Jongdae’s lips on his throat, collarbones. The slick of Jongdae’s hair through his fingers, breadth of his shoulders, angle of his jaw, he was filling himself with that, enjoying every bit of skin more than the last. He imagined Jongdae with a bit of stubble, feeling against his lips, his cheek. Maybe in the morning. Maybe the next night. Maybe he was expecting too much as his stomach tightened against Jongdae’s lips.
He almost breathed in the dark, moving his head out of a shaft of light from the open door and keeping his eyes on Jongdae’s face. So he saw, and even then he wasn’t prepared. Jongdae touched his tongue just below the head of Joonmyun’s cock. Not even a lick, it was more like a placeholder, some kind of promise. But his hips twisted in protest even at the subtle touch, and Jongdae caught his thighs, pushing them up even as he lowered.
“Bet you’re tight,” Jongdae said, just before fingers wet from Jongdae’s mouth pressed against his skin. “Your face shows everything.”
Not then. It went severe, and Jongdae grinned at him. Still, those glasses, just every so slightly slipping down Jongdae’s nose.
“Has anyone ever used their tongue on you before,” Jongdae asked, nibbling at the skin inside of Joonmyun’s knee even as his knuckle rubbed and teased. Almost as if he was taunting Joonmyun, asking if he wanted something. Yeah. Jongdae’s cock, against all his better judgements. Or maybe with them.
“On me?” Joonmyun asked, his brain not keeping up. Sure, he’d had blowjobs, and kisses, and-
Jongdae kissed the inside of his thigh, again further. Again, as Jongdae urged his hips up and Joonmyun lost the thread of his thought entirely. Sexy. Naked. Glasses. Kisses.
“Yeah. It’s okay to make noise. No one will hear.”
How many people had Jongdae told that-
And the groan left Joonmyun’s throat, wavering somewhere in the middle as Jongdae nuzzled his balls. His whole body flashed hot at the first, teasing circle of Jongdae’s tongue. His fingers dug into the sheet, his whole body tight. He’d expected to be fucked. But not by Jongdae’s tongue.
“Of fuck, Jongdae, oh fuck. Please.” If he’d thought the teasing rub of Jongdae’s finger had been too much, he’d been wrong. Thinking the teasing circle of Jongdae’s tongue was going to undo him had been incorrect. It was the press of Jongdae’s tongue inside him that did it. His breath bottled up inside him as his lips tried to form Jongdae’s name.
It took a pinch to his thigh by Jongdae before he wheezed. It almost felt like Jongdae laughed, squeezing with his hands and curling with his tongue.
“Oh,” he almost moaned, his whole body relaxing for Jongdae. Fucked by Jongdae’s tongue, a fission of pleasure traveling to his balls, a pulse starting that had his teeth catching at his lip. He could have jerked himself off then in seconds, stomach tightening, and legs bracing. But he moaned, as Jongdae’s head lifted, leaving his body cool, and somehow empty. Jongdae bit at the inside of his thigh, making him jerk.
“I wish I had a longer tongue. I could really drive you crazy You want more?.”
Joonmyun made a sound of disapproval, because he didn’t think it would be possible.
“More,” he said, voice surprisingly steady and certain. More, because he was prepared, and still not prepared, and his head pressed back into the pillow as Jongdae’s tongue undid him.
Wholly unlike a cock or a finger, wet of itself, softening, lengthening, at Jongdae’s will. It left him slick, aching, sensitive in ways he could not have imagined. Not the heady, primal feeling of the fuck, or delicious pleasure of a blow job. He could feel Jongdae’s breath, and his lips, and his fingers, and his moans that echoed, urged, Joonmyun’s.
“Good,” Joonmyun said, mostly at the ceiling, and half to himself, and startled as Jongdae’s fingertip slid in beside his tongue. Only moments before Jongdae’s breath was higher.
“Ready?” Jongdae rasped.
He had never been more ready, but those words were trapped. His knee flopped out in answer, meeting Jongdae’s eyes. Jongdae wanted words. Needed words. Expected words.
“Please. Fuck.”
Jongdae’s whole body shifted, and Joonmyun wondered if he’d been touching himself. Envious. He wanted to see. Hell, he wanted to do it himself.
“Yes,” Jongdae half hissed.
The lube from the bottle Joonmyun reached for was almost cool, but that was precursor, like a tapping before the starting bell. The condom wrapper. And then he had to endure the press of Jongdae’s cock, not pushing in but just holding against him as Jongdae stroked himself.
“You want this?”
Joonmyun’s breath shuddered in and out. “Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“You,” Joonmyun said. ”Now.”
The magic words, maybe not. But he couldn’t write a sonnet about why he wanted to be fucked.
The move Jongdae made as though to press into him, only to pull back at the first pressure made his body growl. Cruelest tease as he reached out and grabbed Jongdae’s supporting arm. His fingers slid up and down Jongdae’s skin. Not so much a hint, as a blatant suggestion. Joonmyun’s teeth bared as Jongdae groaned, and he lifted his hips. A fraction, no more. Take what was offered. He was begging.
“Jongdae.”
It was good he’d just taken a breath. Jongdae met his eyes, met his moan, and they stared into each other as Jongdae finally, finally pressed into him. His teeth clenched, hand tight on Jongdae’s arm. He wanted more. Wanted more, faster, and Jongdae was moving so shallowly, almost slipping out, making Joonmyun’s whole body tighten.
He hoped his eyes held threats, cajoling, begging, anything. But when Jongdae tilted his hips and sank deep, the moan shattered them both.
It wasn’t better than Jongdae’s tongue, but it was different, and it had him shuddering out breaths through lips tilted in a smile. Because he loved that feeling. The tightening of his body around a man, the tiniest tilt of Jongdae’s hips, the slide of skin against skin. Jongdae stared at him, squirmed against him, a move that should have ticked, but did not. Maybe Jongdae was trying to seduce him with the want on his face, as though that hadn’t already happened.
But all he could do was hum his approval as slick fingers gripped his cock.
“You like that?”
“Oh yeah, that’s good,” Joonmyun agreed.
“And this?”
That. Jongdae gripped Joonmyun’s knees and moved only his hips. Slide and pull and slide and pull, the continual motion of being filled. Until Jongdae quickened, movements sharper, faster. The push of Jongdae’s hips seemed to move all the air from him. His eyes were hungry on Jongdae’s body, mouth open out of both necessity and want.
“Ohh,” he moaned, as Jongdae began to stroke his cock again. Not that it needed it. It ached already. But he wanted it. He wanted all of it. “Your hands are gorgeous.”
Felt gorgeous. Everything. The only thing he could was watch Jongdae’s breathy exhale. A laugh at Joonmyun’s pronouncement, one they shared.
“Jongdae. Oh fuck,” Joonmyun moaned, and there was no laughing in it, as Jongdae braced them both, body moving faster, faster.
A droplet of sweat raced off Jongdae’s neck, between his collarbones, to his chest. He could feel his own skin beading. The cloth beneath his back was soaked, clinging to him as his body moved with Jongdae’s hips. Too much, too good. Everything was tightening, almost a rhythmic throb with every word that flew from Jongdae’s lips.
“So handsome. Fucking gorgeous. Better than I ever…imagined. Joonmyun.”
It was his name that did the most to destroy Joonmyun’s control. He was glad that Jongdae found him gorgeous, glad that he was tight, or hot, or sexy. He felt like he was on fire, his skin melting at just his name said rough, with need. Hair gone limp on his forehead from sweat, face half crazed with the fuck, Jongdae was undoing him.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae had whispered, his lips quirking in a parking lot.
“Joonmyun,” he’d said, straightening Joonmyun’s tie.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae had moaned, against Joonmyun’s mouth while they were against his apartment wall.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae uttered there, fingers stroking Joonmyun’s cock as their bodies rolled together. “Joonmyun.”
Jongdae came. Joonmyun saw it, felt it. The quick rap of his hips, rapture on his face, and the pumping of his fist. And he lived it, too, arms braced on the bed as his whole body shuddered. And he came in Jongdae’s hand, eyes on Jongdae’s face, feeling Jongdae inside him.
Breath surged into his lungs like a plea, panting and shuddering as Jongdae stroked him, every surge of his body on auto-pilot. His body jerked, lungs squeezing, last wrangled moan leaving him as he felt his muscles give.
Until all was still. He ached, inside and out, a pleasant ache, lingering warmth, pleasure and satisfaction. He wasn’t even sure if he was capable of moving, a weak chuckle leaving him as he watched Jongdae smooth back his hair.
His gaze transferred to the ceiling as he wondered how he was going to find a dry spot. And then he yipped, as Jongdae pulled away from him. His body was still trying to figure out what to do, how to feel about that, when Jongdae kissed his raised knee.
It was a strangely tender move, catching at the breath Joonmyun was still trying to get under control.
“I knew it’d be amazing,” Jongdae said, sounding like he was flattering himself almost as he crawled up Joonmyun’s body. And then, he almost seemed as though he wanted a kiss.
“Ehhh,” Joonmyun said, getting a hand between their faces. “I know where that mouth has been.”
Sex hadn’t totally burned his brain out. Only mostly.
“But it was amazing,” he tacked on, when Jongdae’s face had neared a pout. “It…was.”
“Peel yourself off the sheet, and we’ll clean up,” Jongdae offered, holding out both his hands.
It took less that five minutes in the nightlight-lit bathroom to achieve a state at which Joonmyun could consider sleeping, or perhaps even leaving. Jongdae’d body had blocked the door, so he couldn’t have just casually walked out and started to dress.
But Jongdae grabbed his arm, as Joonmyun stood beside him and waited, and he was tugged into the room. The only time Jongdae let him go was to spread a throw blanket over the sheet to cover the wet spot and set aside his glasses, and then he was nudging Joonmyun over.
“I didn’t really mean to stay,” Joonmyun said, voice grim as Jongdae covered them both and latched an arm over Joonmyun’s side.
“Do you need to get home for some reason?” Jongdae asked, and when Joonmyun answered to the negative, Jongdae smiled. “Then I really meant to keep you.”
Keep him. Keep him. Warmth was starting to leech back into his skin, and Jongdae’s face pressed close. That time, he had no reason to refuse. Jongdae tasted of mint, and the slide of his tongue against Joonmyun’s only reminded him of what Jongdae had done before. Instead of repulsing him, it made him grip Jongdae’s neck and kiss again.
And the kisses got longer, softer, breathier, until his stroking hand felt like he was moving under water, slower, and heavier. His last recollection was Jongdae’s calf sliding over his, adjusting his head on the pillow, and warmth.
***
Joonmyun opened his eyes and greeted the weekend naked. The room was bright, and an arm had just come down over his ribs.
“Good morning,” Jongdae drawled, encompassing him with warm skin from his knees to his shoulders.
Joonmyun flicked the back of his teeth with his tongue, realizing he hadn’t brushed his teeth the night before. Jongdae had. Brushing by proxy, since they’d kissed anyway. But his hair, he was pretty sure, was standing up. And he didn’t even dare lift a hand to check.
“Morning,” he said, and let himself relax back into Jongdae. For a little while at least, he wouldn’t have to move or figure out what was happening next, even if his brain was starting to gear up for just that purpose.
“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Jongdae said, sounding a bit regretful even with his sleepy voice. “But all I have is stale cereal and rice.”
“Ah,” Joonmyun said, acknowledging his predicament. If Jongdae had actually brought him breakfast in bed, his face might have gone supernova. But the thought was sweet, and it brought him to another thought.
Maybe Jongdae really did want to make it official. Maybe it wasn’t just letting out a little lust and moving on.
Joonmyun squirmed, turning over. Jongdae had made his move. Maybe…
“If there’s no food here…”
“Then let’s go out,” they said at the same time.
They blinked at each other, and it didn’t matter how hard he bit his lip, the smile wouldn’t be contained.
“First date after sex,” Jongdae joked. “Doing it in some kind of order.”
“I still would’ve said yes.”
The laugh had been relaxing, taking all the tension out of him even as anticipation flooded after. They were going to go on a date and he only had his clothes form yesterday. Maybe Jongdae would loan him a shirt.
The thought teased a sigh out of him, and he got another hour of sleep with Jongdae’s breath against his cheek.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongdae/Joonmyun
Warning: Sexual situations, rimming.
Summary: Jongdae the seducer and Joonmyun the one running away.
A/N: The prompt also included rimming ^^
***
They’d known each other three years, give or take. Three years, two months, a handful of days. Jongdae hadn’t wanted him all that time. If there was any one thing Joonmyun was sure of, it was that. Mostly he knew that because he’d been in his senior year of college, with glasses half the size of his face and his hair rather unfortunately parted because he was too cheap to get it cut. Of course, that had lasted until he’d seen his mother who’d marched him straight to a pair of scissors - and then he’d had the exact opposite problem of unattractive hair. It was a year if it was anything before he’d even spoken to Jongdae for more than five minutes. His hair had grown out, suitably styled since he was gainfully employed, and he had the money to go see a movie, or troll a noraebang, or spend an afternoon poking at electronics and then dinner for no better reason than because someone needed a new phone.
The congenial general, was what his mother had called him. Joonmyun had had a habit of getting his friends to see things his way, want the food he wanted, play the games he wanted to play. And if he couldn’t, he went along. He’d mostly taken it as a compliment. It was therefore no great surprise that his foray into the world of adulthood was in event planning. Not children’s parties and balloons, no, but corporate getaways, and fundraisers, and the occasional lavish wedding. He was officially second rung from the bottom of the ladder, just above the boy who fetched faxes and mailed letters and made coffee, when Jongdae had actually looked at him.
“Where do you buy your pants?”
Joonmyun blinked at Jongdae, a plastic-wrapped rice ball from a convenience store in one hand and a steaming cup of ramen in the other.
“What?”
“Your pants,” Jongdae said, waving at the black slacks Joonmyun had worn to work that day. “Where did you get them? They fit nice.”
The expression on Jongdae’s face was so bland as to be nonexistent, save for the tiny glint of humor in his eyes. Had it been full on amused, Joonmyun would have thought he was joking. Had he been innocent-faced as though trying to hide a tease, Joonmyun would’ve spotted it. As it was, he gulped, and felt his face go hot. They fit nice. A bland face. Almost like Jongdae was…
Flirting.
“I’ll text you the brand,” Joonmyun assured him, taking himself and his food to the other side of Fort Kyungsoo. He’d spent the next half hour trying to will himself not to think of fun ways his pants could come off, and then wondering where that tease had even come from. He conceded after flattering himself with the thought that - had he been prepared! - he might have flirted back, or at least answered more coolly, that there had been no real hope of either scenario. “Your pants fit nice, too” made him sound like he was floundering. “Want to feel how nice?” - well. That sounded a little desperate. And Jongdae was cute enough not to need desperate. He had that jawline that Joonmyun wished he could sketch. With a pencil or his tongue, that really didn’t matter. He paid a little bit more attention to it after that night, even if he’d mostly convinced himself that he’d misinterpreted a perfectly innocent situation.
Those were the first pair of pants that Jongdae had flattered, but not the last pair Jongdae got himself into. There was a boyfriend, a few weeks out from that who lasted all of a heartbeat and a hickey. And another a couple weeks later, that lasted a solid two months.
Joonmyun was envious. Not just of Jongdae dating someone, but that he was dating. Joonmyun was dating his job, with the odd night out to have an affair of free time with his friends, only to repeat all over again. It gratified him when Mr. Lee-ten-years-employed-and-head-of-weddings gave him curious glances. Cautious ones, too. No one ever wanted to be upstaged. Joonmyun made it to the third rung up, and started planning smaller events himself.
It was pure luck he didn’t have an ulcer by the time he’d been granted supervision over the very bottom tier, and subsequent promotion to Overseer of the Cultivation of Relationships with Caterers (in addition to other small events). Or that’s what he called himself in his head. Mostly he was nice enough that when he called to change schedules, usually moving them closer, or making changes to the menu - adding an extra dish to suit someone’s digestion requirements - he didn’t get chewed into small and ripply shreds. Food could not be made at the drop of a hat, he learned. Menus needed finesse. Removing an entire two days of preparation time just wasn’t feasible.
Except when it was, and usually with a little bit of extra compensation, and a smile and all but kissing the caterer’s feet after the events.
Somewhere around there he might’ve developed a small ulcer. Or maybe the constant burning had been due to the fact that every time he looked up when he met his friends, he ended up looking at Jongdae. And the next week, his glasses back on after cleaning them, he found Jongdae smirking at him. Maybe that word was too strong for the curling at the corners of Jongdae’s mouth, but it made him pause. It was a look of amusement, of interest.
It wasn’t the first time in those three years that they’d both been single, and it wasn’t exactly fear that fueled his avoidance. It was caution. A well-timed dark look at Kyungsoo stilled his tongue, but not his eyes, because he saw more than Joonmyun even. And then, of course, Kyungsoo told him all about it. The way Jongdae watched him, the way he spoke so highly of him, when Joonmyun wasn’t there.
“Seems like a pretty big crush to me,” Kyungsoo said, his body draped across a wide footstool with his head hanging off one side.
Joonmyun wasn’t sure what about that angle made Kyungsoo look more sinister, possibly because he had his eyebrows drawn down so far to focus. Joonmyun resisted the urge to put his foot on Kyungsoo’s face, who seemed to read his half-intention with a raised fist.
Joonmyun might have argued that they’d known each other a while, and there was no reason for some sudden crush. But it wasn’t sudden. It was denial, and it was opportunity, and perhaps Jongdae sussing out if he was interested. The touch of Jongdae’s hand against Joonmyun’s side, the way he leaned in when Joonmyun spoke.
“You look nice tonight,” Jongdae said, not half an hour after their conversation.
Joonmyun wasn’t wearing anything special, a blue sweater and gray pants.
“Thanks,” Joonmyun said, the only thing that came to mind.
“You probably haven’t heard yet, but my company is throwing a retirement party. At my suggestion, we’re getting you guys to plan it.”
“Oh?”
The most succinct and ridiculous answer Joonmyun could have conjured.
“Hopefully it’ll be fun,” Jongdae said, and handed Joonmyun a drink.
That Joonmyun could smile to, even if it went with a laugh that felt just a touch past giddy.
***
Joonmyun dated, and was genial about it. That sounded conceited, as though he had no actual care of who he was dating. That wasn’t always the case. Sometimes, he’d went through the whole mating procedure it seemed, from unrequited crushes, to awkward first dates, kisses that either flopped or soared, good, great, and indifferent sex. And the breakups. Inevitably. Sometimes because of the indifferent sex, or the flopped first kisses - not all of which were on him in any case. Sometimes because there wasn’t enough there to hold them together. He tried to be gracious about it, whether he was doing the ending or not, though at times he could feel his teeth grinding together as he was being broken up with. Sometimes that was because there was regret, and sometimes because it was being done like a jackass. There was always one of those around. Some people thought they had to tear someone down to justify breaking up with them. Sometimes it was done as nicely as possible, on both sides. Look, this isn’t working out.
Of course, it didn’t matter how congenial it was, it always seemed to sting a little bit more when the words “there’s someone else” came into play.
***
It took a pair of wire-rimmed glasses to undo him.
In reality, it took a lot more than that, but his brain lapsed in a quick one-two punch, as Jongdae rounded the corner at the retirement party in his jacket and bow tie. They’d been emailing each other for a couple of weeks, all very professional. It was strange that the reserve of it, the efficiency that Jongdae displayed, was as much of a turn-on as his smile.
Jongdae was early, as they’d planned, for a quick run-through. It had been Jongdae’s suggestion, before Joonmyun could even ask what his preference was.
It meant that they were alone. No friends. No guests. Just an empty staging room where tables and chairs had been set up from, and where Joonmyun’s binder of information was being kept.
“You made it,” Joonmyun said, and felt strangely boxed in with half a room behind him. “Everyone right behind you?”
“Ten minutes,” Jongdae confirmed. “Everything looked great in the main room.”
“I’m glad. We got it set up earlier. We’ll try and make sure it goes off as smoothly as possible.”
Never perfect, Joonmyun thought. He couldn’t promise that, or jinx them all by saying it. But his breath caught as Jongdae took another step closer.
“You look nice,” Jongdae said, smoothing the backs of his fingers down Joonmyun’s red and blue tie. “Is this a three-piece? Oh. That’s my favorite.”
Jongdae’s finger catching the edge of Joonmyun’s vest beneath his jacket was nothing to what his eyes were doing, conveying how much he’d be interesting in taking each piece off. That Joonmyun’s mind followed that train of thought had him clearing his throat, brushing Jongdae’s hand aside.
“I need to get back to the caterer.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Because all he needed was Jongdae at his elbow, fingers touching the small of Joonmyun’s back. From the moment he’d settled up with the caterers, to after the guests trickled in, Jongdae had never been more than twenty feet away. Discreetly, of course, mingling with his coworkers, but always seemingly turned toward Joonmyun. Every so often he’d wander by, and the question in the back of Joonmyun’s mind had been hoping that Jongdae’s coworkers didn’t think he had hired an incompetent planner. Joonmyun’s job was to be there, make things happen, without any of the guests having to hold his hand.
Joonmyun received thanks from several of the attendees. Smiling, denying that it had been too much work, and perhaps spending an extra moment saying that it had been very easy to work with Jongdae. Maybe they’d think it was kissing up if they knew that he and Jongdae were friends, but to his mind it was harmless, as well as well-deserved.
“You’ve made me look good,” Jongdae said, nearly in his ear. The last people had just left, and Joonmyun was waiting a moment in case someone returned to retrieve something. Then he’d do his sweep for lost items, and let the crew in to clean up.
But Joonmyun couldn’t help his quick glance down Jongdae’s chest and back up. He certainly had no hand in making Jongdae look the way he did, and though the joke was quick to his mind, he settled on the true interpretation.
“It was an easy kind of event to plan. Everyone seemed happy that talked to me.”
“Now I’ll get assigned to organize all the events going forward," Jongdae said, his laugh racing through the small space.
But Joonmyun could not resist the tease. “You have my number.”
“I do,” Jongdae said.
And a moment before Joonmyun looked away, Jongdae reached for him. Joonmyun’s elbows lifted almost on instinct, but it was his hip that Jongdae’s hand settled on.
“I was wondering-“
“Not here,” Joonmyun said.
“Then I’ll help you finish up.”
“You don’t-“
“What can I do to help?” Jongdae asked, smiling at him.
***
“You said not there,” Jongdae murmured.
Agreeing to go to with Jongdae to his apartment had been a choice.
Standing in Jongdae’s kitchen when Jongdae suggested he take off his jacket and smiling had been something akin to invitation. Cute as a seduction technique. He was going to have to remember that. Brazen Joonmyun, the one in his mind, said he should offer to have Jongdae take it off for him. Help with the buttons. The Joonmyun rooted in reality went a bit wide in the eye even as he smiled. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything as his brain tried to catch up to his surroundings. Life had no pause button to his eternal regret.
Jongdae stepped forward. “Sorry, I can’t-“
That was all it took, like a door sliding open. Jongdae’s hand on his face, tipping him into the kiss. Not as though he had to be urged, but the fingers on his face were such dark pleasure - and assurance. Jongdae’s need, as they stepped together.
He wasn’t thinking of the kisses he’d had. The soft, the desperate, the dominating. Somewhere in the back of his head was Jongdae’s grin, cold spring air and Jongdae’s hand on his shoulder. And he was steady as Jongdae pulled away, staring at him and making a sound that wasn’t any language Joonmyun had heard of.
It was then he was sure, as Jongdae gripped his arm and he felt the phantom presses of Jongdae’s lips.
“Come with me,” Jongdae said.
And Joonmyun was surprised to find himself against the wall between Jongdae’s bedroom and bathroom, tilting his head one way, and then back as Jongdae sucked against the skin of his neck. In his mind he could see Jongdae’s mouth tilting, that little smile full of promise, and forever causing Joonmyun’s fingers to curl. He just had to enjoy that moment. His fingertips traced over the ends of Jongdae’s suit jacket and then relaxed at his side again.
“Are you going to leave a mark?” Joonmyun asked, and felt his body pulse as Jongdae’s lips slid, silky against his skin. But his breath caught as Jongdae gripped his hips, and there was no hiding the slide of erection against erection.
“I wanted to do this all night,” Jongdae said. “Get you in some dark corner, rub against you until you didn’t care about finger foods, or how many tables needed clearing.”
“My job.” But not his job then, as Jongdae nuzzled his face. He didn’t care about finger foods, or tables, or lists. “Jongdae.”
“Now I just want inside you. You want that? Or…”
His fingers curled in the corners of Jongdae’s pockets, tugging. Down, closer, both.
“Yes. Not just tonight.”
“Me too.”
Jongdae lifted his hand, and with his eyes on Joonmyun’s, kissed his palm. The shock, the utter shock of that, had his knees moving of their own volition, following Jongdae through the open door and toward the blue-swathed bed with the turned-down covers.
The raunchy grinding, the tender kiss, it kept him off balance. Maybe he’d expected making out. Maybe he’d wondered. Being wanted by a friend wasn’t his every day experience. It made it easier. It made it harder. He heard Jongdae’s laugh in a new light, as Joonmyun’s suit jacket was tossed onto a chair. He heard it fade into a moan as Joonmyun’s hands slid up under Jongdae’s shirt, skin against skin as Jongdae sucked a new mark into his skin - holding him by his tie.
“Why didn’t we do this months ago?” Jongdae asked.
Jongdae had been dating someone else then, was one answer. A little too logical to say aloud as he was being divested of his tie, vest, and then his shirt. Jongdae was savoring each conquered piece, and he was driving Joonmyun beyond reason. The undone bow tie, the buttons of Jongdae’s shirt, they were all a barrier. His fingers were fumbling out of need more than nerves. But he thanked everything that Jongdae wore no belt. The zipper fled, and his hand cupped the front of Jongdae’s underwear, even as he sucked on Jongdae’s tongue.
The insistent tug of cloth, the slide of it, knees bumping, skin to skin as he wrapped his arm around Jongdae’s ribs. And he kept it there, all but pulling Jongdae after him onto the bed. He was surrounded by Jongdae’s scent, laid out beside him as they matched each other, kiss for kiss, touch for touch.
His hand was in Joonmyun’s hair when Jongdae said, “Kyungsoo made me think this was even possible.”
“What?”
Joonmyun wondered if Kyungsoo got a sudden pain in his head from pointed thoughts Joonmyun was sending his way, and Jongdae chuckled.
“He didn’t tell me you wanted me. But…he didn’t tell me no, either.”
Joonmyun could’ve been flip, told Jongdae he hadn’t gotten laid in a while. That was true. The proof of Joonmyun’s want was quite literally at Jongdae’s fingertips. And it still took a minute of Jongdae’s teasing kisses, before he got to the end of his thought. Jongdae had asked Kyungsoo about him. It wasn’t spur of the moment, an off chance occurrence. His mouth opened against Jongdae’s, moaning and groping until he got what he wanted, stroking Jongdae’s cock and feeling him rumble. Two could play those games. Two of them in bed. Two of them needing.
He hissed as Jongdae moaned.
“I wanted you to enjoy this,” Jongdae protested, rocking into Joonmyun’s hand. And it made Joonmyun smile, gasping out a laugh.
“I am.”
Jongdae sputtered at him, grasped him and rolled him, until Jongdae hovered over him.
“Going to make you feel so good,” Jongdae promised.
He liked that confidence. But enjoying it, that was one thing that Joonmyun didn’t doubt - Jongdae’s lips on his throat, collarbones. The slick of Jongdae’s hair through his fingers, breadth of his shoulders, angle of his jaw, he was filling himself with that, enjoying every bit of skin more than the last. He imagined Jongdae with a bit of stubble, feeling against his lips, his cheek. Maybe in the morning. Maybe the next night. Maybe he was expecting too much as his stomach tightened against Jongdae’s lips.
He almost breathed in the dark, moving his head out of a shaft of light from the open door and keeping his eyes on Jongdae’s face. So he saw, and even then he wasn’t prepared. Jongdae touched his tongue just below the head of Joonmyun’s cock. Not even a lick, it was more like a placeholder, some kind of promise. But his hips twisted in protest even at the subtle touch, and Jongdae caught his thighs, pushing them up even as he lowered.
“Bet you’re tight,” Jongdae said, just before fingers wet from Jongdae’s mouth pressed against his skin. “Your face shows everything.”
Not then. It went severe, and Jongdae grinned at him. Still, those glasses, just every so slightly slipping down Jongdae’s nose.
“Has anyone ever used their tongue on you before,” Jongdae asked, nibbling at the skin inside of Joonmyun’s knee even as his knuckle rubbed and teased. Almost as if he was taunting Joonmyun, asking if he wanted something. Yeah. Jongdae’s cock, against all his better judgements. Or maybe with them.
“On me?” Joonmyun asked, his brain not keeping up. Sure, he’d had blowjobs, and kisses, and-
Jongdae kissed the inside of his thigh, again further. Again, as Jongdae urged his hips up and Joonmyun lost the thread of his thought entirely. Sexy. Naked. Glasses. Kisses.
“Yeah. It’s okay to make noise. No one will hear.”
How many people had Jongdae told that-
And the groan left Joonmyun’s throat, wavering somewhere in the middle as Jongdae nuzzled his balls. His whole body flashed hot at the first, teasing circle of Jongdae’s tongue. His fingers dug into the sheet, his whole body tight. He’d expected to be fucked. But not by Jongdae’s tongue.
“Of fuck, Jongdae, oh fuck. Please.” If he’d thought the teasing rub of Jongdae’s finger had been too much, he’d been wrong. Thinking the teasing circle of Jongdae’s tongue was going to undo him had been incorrect. It was the press of Jongdae’s tongue inside him that did it. His breath bottled up inside him as his lips tried to form Jongdae’s name.
It took a pinch to his thigh by Jongdae before he wheezed. It almost felt like Jongdae laughed, squeezing with his hands and curling with his tongue.
“Oh,” he almost moaned, his whole body relaxing for Jongdae. Fucked by Jongdae’s tongue, a fission of pleasure traveling to his balls, a pulse starting that had his teeth catching at his lip. He could have jerked himself off then in seconds, stomach tightening, and legs bracing. But he moaned, as Jongdae’s head lifted, leaving his body cool, and somehow empty. Jongdae bit at the inside of his thigh, making him jerk.
“I wish I had a longer tongue. I could really drive you crazy You want more?.”
Joonmyun made a sound of disapproval, because he didn’t think it would be possible.
“More,” he said, voice surprisingly steady and certain. More, because he was prepared, and still not prepared, and his head pressed back into the pillow as Jongdae’s tongue undid him.
Wholly unlike a cock or a finger, wet of itself, softening, lengthening, at Jongdae’s will. It left him slick, aching, sensitive in ways he could not have imagined. Not the heady, primal feeling of the fuck, or delicious pleasure of a blow job. He could feel Jongdae’s breath, and his lips, and his fingers, and his moans that echoed, urged, Joonmyun’s.
“Good,” Joonmyun said, mostly at the ceiling, and half to himself, and startled as Jongdae’s fingertip slid in beside his tongue. Only moments before Jongdae’s breath was higher.
“Ready?” Jongdae rasped.
He had never been more ready, but those words were trapped. His knee flopped out in answer, meeting Jongdae’s eyes. Jongdae wanted words. Needed words. Expected words.
“Please. Fuck.”
Jongdae’s whole body shifted, and Joonmyun wondered if he’d been touching himself. Envious. He wanted to see. Hell, he wanted to do it himself.
“Yes,” Jongdae half hissed.
The lube from the bottle Joonmyun reached for was almost cool, but that was precursor, like a tapping before the starting bell. The condom wrapper. And then he had to endure the press of Jongdae’s cock, not pushing in but just holding against him as Jongdae stroked himself.
“You want this?”
Joonmyun’s breath shuddered in and out. “Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“You,” Joonmyun said. ”Now.”
The magic words, maybe not. But he couldn’t write a sonnet about why he wanted to be fucked.
The move Jongdae made as though to press into him, only to pull back at the first pressure made his body growl. Cruelest tease as he reached out and grabbed Jongdae’s supporting arm. His fingers slid up and down Jongdae’s skin. Not so much a hint, as a blatant suggestion. Joonmyun’s teeth bared as Jongdae groaned, and he lifted his hips. A fraction, no more. Take what was offered. He was begging.
“Jongdae.”
It was good he’d just taken a breath. Jongdae met his eyes, met his moan, and they stared into each other as Jongdae finally, finally pressed into him. His teeth clenched, hand tight on Jongdae’s arm. He wanted more. Wanted more, faster, and Jongdae was moving so shallowly, almost slipping out, making Joonmyun’s whole body tighten.
He hoped his eyes held threats, cajoling, begging, anything. But when Jongdae tilted his hips and sank deep, the moan shattered them both.
It wasn’t better than Jongdae’s tongue, but it was different, and it had him shuddering out breaths through lips tilted in a smile. Because he loved that feeling. The tightening of his body around a man, the tiniest tilt of Jongdae’s hips, the slide of skin against skin. Jongdae stared at him, squirmed against him, a move that should have ticked, but did not. Maybe Jongdae was trying to seduce him with the want on his face, as though that hadn’t already happened.
But all he could do was hum his approval as slick fingers gripped his cock.
“You like that?”
“Oh yeah, that’s good,” Joonmyun agreed.
“And this?”
That. Jongdae gripped Joonmyun’s knees and moved only his hips. Slide and pull and slide and pull, the continual motion of being filled. Until Jongdae quickened, movements sharper, faster. The push of Jongdae’s hips seemed to move all the air from him. His eyes were hungry on Jongdae’s body, mouth open out of both necessity and want.
“Ohh,” he moaned, as Jongdae began to stroke his cock again. Not that it needed it. It ached already. But he wanted it. He wanted all of it. “Your hands are gorgeous.”
Felt gorgeous. Everything. The only thing he could was watch Jongdae’s breathy exhale. A laugh at Joonmyun’s pronouncement, one they shared.
“Jongdae. Oh fuck,” Joonmyun moaned, and there was no laughing in it, as Jongdae braced them both, body moving faster, faster.
A droplet of sweat raced off Jongdae’s neck, between his collarbones, to his chest. He could feel his own skin beading. The cloth beneath his back was soaked, clinging to him as his body moved with Jongdae’s hips. Too much, too good. Everything was tightening, almost a rhythmic throb with every word that flew from Jongdae’s lips.
“So handsome. Fucking gorgeous. Better than I ever…imagined. Joonmyun.”
It was his name that did the most to destroy Joonmyun’s control. He was glad that Jongdae found him gorgeous, glad that he was tight, or hot, or sexy. He felt like he was on fire, his skin melting at just his name said rough, with need. Hair gone limp on his forehead from sweat, face half crazed with the fuck, Jongdae was undoing him.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae had whispered, his lips quirking in a parking lot.
“Joonmyun,” he’d said, straightening Joonmyun’s tie.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae had moaned, against Joonmyun’s mouth while they were against his apartment wall.
“Joonmyun,” Jongdae uttered there, fingers stroking Joonmyun’s cock as their bodies rolled together. “Joonmyun.”
Jongdae came. Joonmyun saw it, felt it. The quick rap of his hips, rapture on his face, and the pumping of his fist. And he lived it, too, arms braced on the bed as his whole body shuddered. And he came in Jongdae’s hand, eyes on Jongdae’s face, feeling Jongdae inside him.
Breath surged into his lungs like a plea, panting and shuddering as Jongdae stroked him, every surge of his body on auto-pilot. His body jerked, lungs squeezing, last wrangled moan leaving him as he felt his muscles give.
Until all was still. He ached, inside and out, a pleasant ache, lingering warmth, pleasure and satisfaction. He wasn’t even sure if he was capable of moving, a weak chuckle leaving him as he watched Jongdae smooth back his hair.
His gaze transferred to the ceiling as he wondered how he was going to find a dry spot. And then he yipped, as Jongdae pulled away from him. His body was still trying to figure out what to do, how to feel about that, when Jongdae kissed his raised knee.
It was a strangely tender move, catching at the breath Joonmyun was still trying to get under control.
“I knew it’d be amazing,” Jongdae said, sounding like he was flattering himself almost as he crawled up Joonmyun’s body. And then, he almost seemed as though he wanted a kiss.
“Ehhh,” Joonmyun said, getting a hand between their faces. “I know where that mouth has been.”
Sex hadn’t totally burned his brain out. Only mostly.
“But it was amazing,” he tacked on, when Jongdae’s face had neared a pout. “It…was.”
“Peel yourself off the sheet, and we’ll clean up,” Jongdae offered, holding out both his hands.
It took less that five minutes in the nightlight-lit bathroom to achieve a state at which Joonmyun could consider sleeping, or perhaps even leaving. Jongdae’d body had blocked the door, so he couldn’t have just casually walked out and started to dress.
But Jongdae grabbed his arm, as Joonmyun stood beside him and waited, and he was tugged into the room. The only time Jongdae let him go was to spread a throw blanket over the sheet to cover the wet spot and set aside his glasses, and then he was nudging Joonmyun over.
“I didn’t really mean to stay,” Joonmyun said, voice grim as Jongdae covered them both and latched an arm over Joonmyun’s side.
“Do you need to get home for some reason?” Jongdae asked, and when Joonmyun answered to the negative, Jongdae smiled. “Then I really meant to keep you.”
Keep him. Keep him. Warmth was starting to leech back into his skin, and Jongdae’s face pressed close. That time, he had no reason to refuse. Jongdae tasted of mint, and the slide of his tongue against Joonmyun’s only reminded him of what Jongdae had done before. Instead of repulsing him, it made him grip Jongdae’s neck and kiss again.
And the kisses got longer, softer, breathier, until his stroking hand felt like he was moving under water, slower, and heavier. His last recollection was Jongdae’s calf sliding over his, adjusting his head on the pillow, and warmth.
***
Joonmyun opened his eyes and greeted the weekend naked. The room was bright, and an arm had just come down over his ribs.
“Good morning,” Jongdae drawled, encompassing him with warm skin from his knees to his shoulders.
Joonmyun flicked the back of his teeth with his tongue, realizing he hadn’t brushed his teeth the night before. Jongdae had. Brushing by proxy, since they’d kissed anyway. But his hair, he was pretty sure, was standing up. And he didn’t even dare lift a hand to check.
“Morning,” he said, and let himself relax back into Jongdae. For a little while at least, he wouldn’t have to move or figure out what was happening next, even if his brain was starting to gear up for just that purpose.
“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Jongdae said, sounding a bit regretful even with his sleepy voice. “But all I have is stale cereal and rice.”
“Ah,” Joonmyun said, acknowledging his predicament. If Jongdae had actually brought him breakfast in bed, his face might have gone supernova. But the thought was sweet, and it brought him to another thought.
Maybe Jongdae really did want to make it official. Maybe it wasn’t just letting out a little lust and moving on.
Joonmyun squirmed, turning over. Jongdae had made his move. Maybe…
“If there’s no food here…”
“Then let’s go out,” they said at the same time.
They blinked at each other, and it didn’t matter how hard he bit his lip, the smile wouldn’t be contained.
“First date after sex,” Jongdae joked. “Doing it in some kind of order.”
“I still would’ve said yes.”
The laugh had been relaxing, taking all the tension out of him even as anticipation flooded after. They were going to go on a date and he only had his clothes form yesterday. Maybe Jongdae would loan him a shirt.
The thought teased a sigh out of him, and he got another hour of sleep with Jongdae’s breath against his cheek.
***