Is This Leather
r // taemin/key // ~3k
Taemin has fly-by-night footing to begin with. The toting up of his pants pooling around his ankles as well as that very distracting mouth Kibum has latched on his neck is just a redundant impediment. He only really has to walk backwards, and where did the edge of that coffee table come from because, mother of God, that's going to bruise the underside of his knee in a bit.
A few more fumbles, filthy promises, and labored breaths later, Taemin's shins hit the bed, tipping him back where gravity finally works to his advantage. He takes Kibum with him by the lapels, the other's arms landing on either side of Taemin's head.
"Is this leather?" Taemin's mouth has a mind of its own apparently. Kibum's tongue slips back and he's leaning away from Taemin's neck to pass him a stare that cannot spell judgment any clearer. "I'm referring to your jacket…"
"Yeah." Kibum nods twice, chest heaving from all that walking slash belt and pants scuffling earlier. His breath still carries a hint of Bacardi from the bar before he slid up next to Taemin's seat and told him some ridiculous joke that Taemin can't seem to remember laughing at. "I know what you meant. Just… really?"
"It's just…" Taemin would curse himself the way he always does but not enough curses in the world could get him out of this one. Unless he just shuts up and lets their bodies do the talking. "Never mind."
"Okay."
As rapidly as the disruption fell upon them, the heat boiled back. Taemin might have acted like an idiot just then, but Kibum is not going to just up and leave for something as inconsequential as word vomit. Taemin is still very much beneath him. And Kibum's jeans cannot be any tighter.
He bucks his hips, stirring Taemin into a frenzy, his hands finding purchase on the back of Kibum's waist, the valley right where the end of his spine and buttocks connect. It's so soft and warm from under Kibum's jacket, just the flannel fabric breaking his contact with Kibum's flesh. Taemin groans slightly when Kibum rises on his knees just so he can properly shrug out of his jacket.
It bodes well for Taemin, he realizes, as he squirms on the mattress with his legs open. This way, from the darkened room, he can see a perfect outline of Kibum as he shimmies out of his jacket and button up all in one go, that milky complexion just drinking up the littlest of light streaming from the windows behind the bed.
When Kibum folds down, his hands slip beneath Taemin's shirt, scraping up the cotton between his fingers. He floods Taemin's abdomen with a line of electrifying kisses, navel to sternum, the tip of his tongue barely there. Taemin doesn't even realize how his hands are ruining Kibum's hair at the moment, how his legs are folding up, socked feet rubbing along Kibum's side.
"Get rid of this."
Taemin scrambles with the shirt with minimal grace. Kibum doesn't know what to do with that enthusiasm so he just helps Taemin along by pushing and pulling the shirt off until Taemin's head pops back from the neckline. The strands of Taemin's long, red, shoulder length hair line his face and stick to where his face perspires.
Kibum swipes the hair away. It's almost a sin to cover that face up with anything.
He closes his eyes, lips brushing over Taemin's but only just. He does it again, and again. Until Taemin's hand is curled around his neck and it's almost as though he's too shy to apply pressure and deepen the kiss. So Kibum's mouth lifts into a cheeky smirk that neither of them can see when he kisses Taemin full on the mouth. Taemin's fingers tighten on his neck every time he gets their tongues to touch, his other hand palming its way down the knobs of Kibum's spine.
Kibum traces Taemin's jaw with sloppy swipes of his lips. He's past the point of cautiousness, and judging by the sounds that Taemin is making, they're running on the same wavelength.
He guides his hand lower over Taemin's torso, nothing but smooth skin and rib cage linings underneath his fingertips. When he feels the dip of Taemin's navel beneath the graze of his middle finger, he skirts his lips lower from Taemin's neck, all in perfect coordination. Then he cups Taemin through his underwear. Taemin's already hard, cock laying to the side when Kibum palms it with cursory strokes, taking his time.
He feels himself stiffen at the way Taemin bites his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut when that initial touch to his cock takes place. Even with the fabric, he's so sensitive, not even trying to hide it. Not that Kibum wants any of that pleasure stricken emotions to disappear from Taemin's face. It's probably just been a while since he's been with someone around his age, someone who isn't afraid of being honest and letting a virtual stranger know, "I like that…" in that unrefined, guttural tone.
Kibum isn't one for giving head. In all honesty, unless he really has to, he avoids being within a foot's distance of the thing. So it comes as a surprise to Taemin as well as himself when he gradually peels himself away from Taemin and begins to crawl back and off the bed to get to his knees.
"Hey," Taemin elevates himself by his elbows posted on the mattress, moving them together and grunting as he rises himself to a semi-sitting position, weight resting on his hands flat behind him.
"Hey." Kibum knows that Taemin must not be the type to pick up strangers very often. When he said Hey, he wasn't just saying it to be cute. He was probably halfway through a poorly thought out phrase, like, "Hey, you don't… I mean, listen, I'm fine with your mouth on my dick, but I don't want you to think that you have to. It would be tremendous, though, and I appreciate a blowjob, really. But it's not an obligation." or something akin to that.
With his gaze never leaving Taemin's, he hooks his fingers over the band of Taemin's boxers and tugs them down and off. He parts Taemin's knees further, fitting himself in between and feeling the tip of Taemin's cock brush up against the line of his chest when he kneels to reach up and press his lips to Taemin's one more time. "Fuck." Taemin breathes when Kibum steals a stroke over Taemin's cock, going over the length and squeezing the skin around the head.
Kibum is just in that mood tonight. Maybe it doesn't really have to be Taemin. Maybe him wanting to give a decent, all in blowjob tonight is just because he's drunk and he has nothing better to do and it's not like Taemin's ugly.
But Taemin won't let go of his face so they keep kissing like that, with Taemin breathing hard onto his lips every so often. Kibum has to tear his face away from Taemin's grip before he can actually get anywhere near the head of Taemin's cock which wasn’t always how the story would go in previous one night stands.
He pushes that thought aside on account of his erection reaching that level between ultimate pleasure and pain. That first, experimental lick he runs over the head of Taemin's cock causes a dangerous hiss to fall from Taemin's lips.
Kibum forgets why he has to take this slow in the first place and stretches his mouth open, keeping his teeth out of the way and takes as much of Taemin as he can. There isn't much of Taemin to begin with, but he still needs to warm up before he lets anything hit the back of his throat.
He clutches Taemin's thigh with one hand, the other massaging the base of Taemin's length, and it doesn't even bother him that Taemin has those pubic strands right at the front that tickle Kibum's nose when he bobs his head low. He can't seem to concentrate on anything else apart from Taemin shoving his hands into Kibum's blonde locks while fighting the urge to thrust up or push Kibum's head down.
Either of which, Kibum isn't exactly opposed to.
Taemin's shallow breaths turn into rhythmic moans that match the bobs of Kibum's head. A few more seconds, Kibum decides that he's ready to take Taemin deeper into his mouth, and when he does, Taemin falls back on the bed, forgetting his grip on Kibum's hair, so he tugs on it without meaning to.
Kibum nearly bites down at the sudden pang and force. Luckily, he's a pro. Also, he's kind of been anticipating a hair pull. In lieu of a bite down, which will not end well for either of them and need not be considered, Kibum hums around Taemin's cock, knowing how those vibrations will shoot jolts in all the right places.
Taemin's feet are posted on the bed in favor of spreading himself wider, his head tossing and turning about. Kibum gives his mouth a break, releasing Taemin with a pop, but he makes sure to keep Taemin on edge with his hand hard at work.
He slicks two fingers up in his mouth, thinking that this is as good a time as any to ease Taemin into it, in the case that he's never done it like this before.
On second thought, he concentrates on lapping his tongue around one finger first.
Kibum keeps his forefinger straight as he pushes it through just until the first line. Automatically, Taemin reacts by covering his face behind the crook of his arms.
"Shit." Kibum slows his strokes and retreats his finger.
Taemin stirs, emerging from his arms. "What's… is something wrong?"
"Have you ever bottomed before?"
"Oh." The way Taemin looks away, Kibum can already guess that if the lights were on, he would probably be caught blushing.
"Yeah, I thought so."
"I've only done it a few times." Taemin admits when Kibum takes his hands away all together and it's just that weird air of misplaced conversation all over again.
But then Kibum replays what Taemin just said. He arches a brow. "Really?"
Taemin nods, flicking his hair off his shoulders. "I'm not fully used to it, but I don't hate it. It's just that I've not been with many guys that… do it… like that?" That was already good enough for Kibum. But somehow Taemin still finds it essential that he adds, "So I may be a bit tight down there. If that's okay."
Telling Kibum that you're a bit tight down there is vaguely similar to telling a gambler that they can live in Las Vegas, but only if casinos left and right won't be bothersome for them.
"Yeah, I guess that's okay." Kibum shrugs like he's not seeing stars at the moment.
Taemin nibbles on his bottom lip, feeling more and more self-conscious under the sudden lack of proximity.
"Do you have any condoms?"
Taemin rolls over on his bed to the bedside drawer where he returns with condoms of all colors and sizes, as well as a plastic portable of petroleum jelly. He lays them on the bed, positioning himself before Kibum in an Indian seat. As though suddenly hit with the realization that he is still very much naked, he grabs a pillow from behind him and tries to inconspicuously cover his lap with it.
Kibum scrutinizes the selection on the bed with narrowed eyes. He can figure out the sizes just by the color since he's been using this brand for a year now. He doesn’t know if Taemin is aware of the range of sizes from the color orange to the color black. Kibum's always used the red one, though, so he plucks it from the variety of rainbow colored protection. He also swipes the container of petroleum jelly up into his hands by the time Taemin begins to clear the mattress.
Maybe it should be more of an issue as to why Taemin is so prepared, but then again, assumptions are as dependable as fortune cookies, so Kibum would much rather go back to where he was before; in between Taemin's thighs, readying him with one finger and watching him take it with his eyes shut, fists knuckle-white along the railing of the bed frame.
Taemin's toes are curling when the first finger sinks deep and Kibum twists it, moving gingerly through the warmth. The twitch that comes from his own cock reminds him of its constricting barriers once again and that he's still in his jeans zipped up. He'd get up and kick the pair of skinny monstrosities off had he not been busy finger fucking Taemin. His circulation being cut off due to his tight jeans and raging boner is a small price to pay in the great scheme of things.
Two fingers in, Taemin's stomach sucks in and his rib cage protrudes. These candid reactions are starting to test Kibum's patience. Before he can scissor his fingers apart, he crooks them inside first, tips grazing along what he can only hope is Taemin's prostate, but he's no doctor.
He leans over Taemin, muscles and joints popping when he gets into this awkward position that he will not able to keep for long, just for the sake of being able to suck on Taemin's collar bones. His neck begins to ache, shoulder joints falling tender.
"Does that hurt?" There's a small part of Kibum that actually thinks that it does, despite the fact that Taemin's moaning and writhing. So, when Taemin shakes his head no, and takes the initiative to kiss Kibum on the mouth, he can't get out of his jeans any faster.
Taemin is stroking himself as he studies Kibum's flimsy, hurried fingers tear open the red pack of the condom, fiddling and turning it over a few times until he figures out where he has to roll it down. It's already lubricated and a lot slippery, so rolling it over his length proves to be a bit a challenge, and Taemin's trying his hardest not to laugh because even if it's kind of funny, he's been known to kill the mood a few times with not being able to keep himself in check.
When Kibum finally gets the condom on, Taemin helps him with opening the petroleum jelly. Kibum snorts out a laugh when Taemin chafes a chunk out with his finger, slabs it on Kibum's fingers, and rubs it on for him.
With the product evenly distributed, Kibum works his fingers in Taemin again, just to make sure that everything is all slide down there. He portions the excess over his length, leans down over Taemin, and with his hand between their stomachs, guides the tip of his cock to line with Taemin's entrance. When he bends Taemin in half, legs in the air, he paces himself.
When he pushes with just the head first, Taemin's mouth goes in a full O. When he finally breathes out Kibum's name, hands latching onto Kibum's waist, Kibum has to look away.
Kibum takes his time with the thrusts, shallow at first, for both their sakes. He tries not to think about coming, tries not think about the calloused flinches of Taemin's body, and the creaks the mattress makes whenever they move together.
And it's like being inside Taemin cannot possibly be enough. There's so much of him to lick and touch and hold.
Kibum starts pumping just that much harder, slapping against Taemin's skin. Taemin's groans become more erratic, no names, just incomprehensible grunts and please's that Kibum can only appease.
He would love nothing more than to stay there; just watching and listening to Taemin act and speak like he's a different person. And when they lock lips, it's more torrid and pretty slick-excessive, breaths staining breaths.
Taemin shudders when he comes, spilling over mostly himself, and Kibum helps him ride it out. By the time oversensitivity of post orgasmic bliss kicks in, Taemin's nails dig crescents onto Kibum's shoulder blades, and all he can really do is quiver and push weakly at Kibum.
"Come on…" Taemin whispers, when he realizes that Kibum isn't stopping until he's had his fix. "Come, Kibum. Come on."
Kibum comes when Taemin tightens around him, either on purpose or due to the spasms. He finishes every last drop, connecting his forehead to Taemin's clavicle while still thrusting a few last times.
Eventually, Kibum pulls out, prying himself away from Taemin's panting self, all sticky and sweating.
"Can you…" Taemin continues to pant. "Can you reach that… box of tissues… by the… the…" Kibum languidly reaches for the box, passes it to his other hand, and then allows the box to propel to the space on the mattress between them. "…thanks."
Kibum hears Taemin tug a few tissues from the box, probably to clean himself up, even if just by that much before he goes to bed.
Kibum rolls the condom off seconds later.
Taemin silently passes him two tissues that he accepts with this awkward, tight-lipped smile. He wraps the condom into the tissues, holding it in his hands for a few beats because he's not ready to walk to the waste bin yet.
"Here." Taemin's hand snatches the tissue-condom from him before he can say anything. From his position on the bed, he makes a blind endeavor to shoot at the trash bin by the end of the bed. The tissue bounces off the wall and lands on the carpet beside the trash bin anyway.
Kibum's head reconnects with the mattress. "You missed."
"I'll get it later." Taemin waves a hand dismissively.
Kibum isn't sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly he senses Taemin sliding higher up the mattress, albeit despairingly. "D'you want a blanket?"
It only registers on Kibum that he's being addressed. "What, yeah, sure."
"Come up." Taemin offers.
Kibum groans. If a blanket is at the expense of moving, he'd rather--
"Come on, Kibum." Now, Taemin's pulling him up by his arm and Kibum would prefer to just do as he's told because arguing seems much less alluring.
Taemin kicks at the blankets.
Kibum, upon seeing this, does the same.
They slip their feet under the blanket and only then does Kibum realize that they weren't fucking on just mattress sheets earlier. It's all warm under the covers now.
"It's not real." Kibum groggily mumbles, snuggling up into Taemin's pillows, eyes closed.
"Hm?"
"My jacket isn't… real… leath… er"
Taemin nods, smiling, and then thinks that Kibum will never notice him doing these things because he's probably already half asleep.
*masterficlist | tumblr | twitter | comment here to be added
-- okay so, uhm, random update.
just because it's been a while.
and who doesn't need to practice writing
smut, right?
Taemin has fly-by-night footing to begin with. The toting up of his pants pooling around his ankles as well as that very distracting mouth Kibum has latched on his neck is just a redundant impediment. He only really has to walk backwards, and where did the edge of that coffee table come from because, mother of God, that's going to bruise the underside of his knee in a bit.
A few more fumbles, filthy promises, and labored breaths later, Taemin's shins hit the bed, tipping him back where gravity finally works to his advantage. He takes Kibum with him by the lapels, the other's arms landing on either side of Taemin's head.
"Is this leather?" Taemin's mouth has a mind of its own apparently. Kibum's tongue slips back and he's leaning away from Taemin's neck to pass him a stare that cannot spell judgment any clearer. "I'm referring to your jacket…"
"Yeah." Kibum nods twice, chest heaving from all that walking slash belt and pants scuffling earlier. His breath still carries a hint of Bacardi from the bar before he slid up next to Taemin's seat and told him some ridiculous joke that Taemin can't seem to remember laughing at. "I know what you meant. Just… really?"
"It's just…" Taemin would curse himself the way he always does but not enough curses in the world could get him out of this one. Unless he just shuts up and lets their bodies do the talking. "Never mind."
"Okay."
As rapidly as the disruption fell upon them, the heat boiled back. Taemin might have acted like an idiot just then, but Kibum is not going to just up and leave for something as inconsequential as word vomit. Taemin is still very much beneath him. And Kibum's jeans cannot be any tighter.
He bucks his hips, stirring Taemin into a frenzy, his hands finding purchase on the back of Kibum's waist, the valley right where the end of his spine and buttocks connect. It's so soft and warm from under Kibum's jacket, just the flannel fabric breaking his contact with Kibum's flesh. Taemin groans slightly when Kibum rises on his knees just so he can properly shrug out of his jacket.
It bodes well for Taemin, he realizes, as he squirms on the mattress with his legs open. This way, from the darkened room, he can see a perfect outline of Kibum as he shimmies out of his jacket and button up all in one go, that milky complexion just drinking up the littlest of light streaming from the windows behind the bed.
When Kibum folds down, his hands slip beneath Taemin's shirt, scraping up the cotton between his fingers. He floods Taemin's abdomen with a line of electrifying kisses, navel to sternum, the tip of his tongue barely there. Taemin doesn't even realize how his hands are ruining Kibum's hair at the moment, how his legs are folding up, socked feet rubbing along Kibum's side.
"Get rid of this."
Taemin scrambles with the shirt with minimal grace. Kibum doesn't know what to do with that enthusiasm so he just helps Taemin along by pushing and pulling the shirt off until Taemin's head pops back from the neckline. The strands of Taemin's long, red, shoulder length hair line his face and stick to where his face perspires.
Kibum swipes the hair away. It's almost a sin to cover that face up with anything.
He closes his eyes, lips brushing over Taemin's but only just. He does it again, and again. Until Taemin's hand is curled around his neck and it's almost as though he's too shy to apply pressure and deepen the kiss. So Kibum's mouth lifts into a cheeky smirk that neither of them can see when he kisses Taemin full on the mouth. Taemin's fingers tighten on his neck every time he gets their tongues to touch, his other hand palming its way down the knobs of Kibum's spine.
Kibum traces Taemin's jaw with sloppy swipes of his lips. He's past the point of cautiousness, and judging by the sounds that Taemin is making, they're running on the same wavelength.
He guides his hand lower over Taemin's torso, nothing but smooth skin and rib cage linings underneath his fingertips. When he feels the dip of Taemin's navel beneath the graze of his middle finger, he skirts his lips lower from Taemin's neck, all in perfect coordination. Then he cups Taemin through his underwear. Taemin's already hard, cock laying to the side when Kibum palms it with cursory strokes, taking his time.
He feels himself stiffen at the way Taemin bites his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut when that initial touch to his cock takes place. Even with the fabric, he's so sensitive, not even trying to hide it. Not that Kibum wants any of that pleasure stricken emotions to disappear from Taemin's face. It's probably just been a while since he's been with someone around his age, someone who isn't afraid of being honest and letting a virtual stranger know, "I like that…" in that unrefined, guttural tone.
Kibum isn't one for giving head. In all honesty, unless he really has to, he avoids being within a foot's distance of the thing. So it comes as a surprise to Taemin as well as himself when he gradually peels himself away from Taemin and begins to crawl back and off the bed to get to his knees.
"Hey," Taemin elevates himself by his elbows posted on the mattress, moving them together and grunting as he rises himself to a semi-sitting position, weight resting on his hands flat behind him.
"Hey." Kibum knows that Taemin must not be the type to pick up strangers very often. When he said Hey, he wasn't just saying it to be cute. He was probably halfway through a poorly thought out phrase, like, "Hey, you don't… I mean, listen, I'm fine with your mouth on my dick, but I don't want you to think that you have to. It would be tremendous, though, and I appreciate a blowjob, really. But it's not an obligation." or something akin to that.
With his gaze never leaving Taemin's, he hooks his fingers over the band of Taemin's boxers and tugs them down and off. He parts Taemin's knees further, fitting himself in between and feeling the tip of Taemin's cock brush up against the line of his chest when he kneels to reach up and press his lips to Taemin's one more time. "Fuck." Taemin breathes when Kibum steals a stroke over Taemin's cock, going over the length and squeezing the skin around the head.
Kibum is just in that mood tonight. Maybe it doesn't really have to be Taemin. Maybe him wanting to give a decent, all in blowjob tonight is just because he's drunk and he has nothing better to do and it's not like Taemin's ugly.
But Taemin won't let go of his face so they keep kissing like that, with Taemin breathing hard onto his lips every so often. Kibum has to tear his face away from Taemin's grip before he can actually get anywhere near the head of Taemin's cock which wasn’t always how the story would go in previous one night stands.
He pushes that thought aside on account of his erection reaching that level between ultimate pleasure and pain. That first, experimental lick he runs over the head of Taemin's cock causes a dangerous hiss to fall from Taemin's lips.
Kibum forgets why he has to take this slow in the first place and stretches his mouth open, keeping his teeth out of the way and takes as much of Taemin as he can. There isn't much of Taemin to begin with, but he still needs to warm up before he lets anything hit the back of his throat.
He clutches Taemin's thigh with one hand, the other massaging the base of Taemin's length, and it doesn't even bother him that Taemin has those pubic strands right at the front that tickle Kibum's nose when he bobs his head low. He can't seem to concentrate on anything else apart from Taemin shoving his hands into Kibum's blonde locks while fighting the urge to thrust up or push Kibum's head down.
Either of which, Kibum isn't exactly opposed to.
Taemin's shallow breaths turn into rhythmic moans that match the bobs of Kibum's head. A few more seconds, Kibum decides that he's ready to take Taemin deeper into his mouth, and when he does, Taemin falls back on the bed, forgetting his grip on Kibum's hair, so he tugs on it without meaning to.
Kibum nearly bites down at the sudden pang and force. Luckily, he's a pro. Also, he's kind of been anticipating a hair pull. In lieu of a bite down, which will not end well for either of them and need not be considered, Kibum hums around Taemin's cock, knowing how those vibrations will shoot jolts in all the right places.
Taemin's feet are posted on the bed in favor of spreading himself wider, his head tossing and turning about. Kibum gives his mouth a break, releasing Taemin with a pop, but he makes sure to keep Taemin on edge with his hand hard at work.
He slicks two fingers up in his mouth, thinking that this is as good a time as any to ease Taemin into it, in the case that he's never done it like this before.
On second thought, he concentrates on lapping his tongue around one finger first.
Kibum keeps his forefinger straight as he pushes it through just until the first line. Automatically, Taemin reacts by covering his face behind the crook of his arms.
"Shit." Kibum slows his strokes and retreats his finger.
Taemin stirs, emerging from his arms. "What's… is something wrong?"
"Have you ever bottomed before?"
"Oh." The way Taemin looks away, Kibum can already guess that if the lights were on, he would probably be caught blushing.
"Yeah, I thought so."
"I've only done it a few times." Taemin admits when Kibum takes his hands away all together and it's just that weird air of misplaced conversation all over again.
But then Kibum replays what Taemin just said. He arches a brow. "Really?"
Taemin nods, flicking his hair off his shoulders. "I'm not fully used to it, but I don't hate it. It's just that I've not been with many guys that… do it… like that?" That was already good enough for Kibum. But somehow Taemin still finds it essential that he adds, "So I may be a bit tight down there. If that's okay."
Telling Kibum that you're a bit tight down there is vaguely similar to telling a gambler that they can live in Las Vegas, but only if casinos left and right won't be bothersome for them.
"Yeah, I guess that's okay." Kibum shrugs like he's not seeing stars at the moment.
Taemin nibbles on his bottom lip, feeling more and more self-conscious under the sudden lack of proximity.
"Do you have any condoms?"
Taemin rolls over on his bed to the bedside drawer where he returns with condoms of all colors and sizes, as well as a plastic portable of petroleum jelly. He lays them on the bed, positioning himself before Kibum in an Indian seat. As though suddenly hit with the realization that he is still very much naked, he grabs a pillow from behind him and tries to inconspicuously cover his lap with it.
Kibum scrutinizes the selection on the bed with narrowed eyes. He can figure out the sizes just by the color since he's been using this brand for a year now. He doesn’t know if Taemin is aware of the range of sizes from the color orange to the color black. Kibum's always used the red one, though, so he plucks it from the variety of rainbow colored protection. He also swipes the container of petroleum jelly up into his hands by the time Taemin begins to clear the mattress.
Maybe it should be more of an issue as to why Taemin is so prepared, but then again, assumptions are as dependable as fortune cookies, so Kibum would much rather go back to where he was before; in between Taemin's thighs, readying him with one finger and watching him take it with his eyes shut, fists knuckle-white along the railing of the bed frame.
Taemin's toes are curling when the first finger sinks deep and Kibum twists it, moving gingerly through the warmth. The twitch that comes from his own cock reminds him of its constricting barriers once again and that he's still in his jeans zipped up. He'd get up and kick the pair of skinny monstrosities off had he not been busy finger fucking Taemin. His circulation being cut off due to his tight jeans and raging boner is a small price to pay in the great scheme of things.
Two fingers in, Taemin's stomach sucks in and his rib cage protrudes. These candid reactions are starting to test Kibum's patience. Before he can scissor his fingers apart, he crooks them inside first, tips grazing along what he can only hope is Taemin's prostate, but he's no doctor.
He leans over Taemin, muscles and joints popping when he gets into this awkward position that he will not able to keep for long, just for the sake of being able to suck on Taemin's collar bones. His neck begins to ache, shoulder joints falling tender.
"Does that hurt?" There's a small part of Kibum that actually thinks that it does, despite the fact that Taemin's moaning and writhing. So, when Taemin shakes his head no, and takes the initiative to kiss Kibum on the mouth, he can't get out of his jeans any faster.
Taemin is stroking himself as he studies Kibum's flimsy, hurried fingers tear open the red pack of the condom, fiddling and turning it over a few times until he figures out where he has to roll it down. It's already lubricated and a lot slippery, so rolling it over his length proves to be a bit a challenge, and Taemin's trying his hardest not to laugh because even if it's kind of funny, he's been known to kill the mood a few times with not being able to keep himself in check.
When Kibum finally gets the condom on, Taemin helps him with opening the petroleum jelly. Kibum snorts out a laugh when Taemin chafes a chunk out with his finger, slabs it on Kibum's fingers, and rubs it on for him.
With the product evenly distributed, Kibum works his fingers in Taemin again, just to make sure that everything is all slide down there. He portions the excess over his length, leans down over Taemin, and with his hand between their stomachs, guides the tip of his cock to line with Taemin's entrance. When he bends Taemin in half, legs in the air, he paces himself.
When he pushes with just the head first, Taemin's mouth goes in a full O. When he finally breathes out Kibum's name, hands latching onto Kibum's waist, Kibum has to look away.
Kibum takes his time with the thrusts, shallow at first, for both their sakes. He tries not to think about coming, tries not think about the calloused flinches of Taemin's body, and the creaks the mattress makes whenever they move together.
And it's like being inside Taemin cannot possibly be enough. There's so much of him to lick and touch and hold.
Kibum starts pumping just that much harder, slapping against Taemin's skin. Taemin's groans become more erratic, no names, just incomprehensible grunts and please's that Kibum can only appease.
He would love nothing more than to stay there; just watching and listening to Taemin act and speak like he's a different person. And when they lock lips, it's more torrid and pretty slick-excessive, breaths staining breaths.
Taemin shudders when he comes, spilling over mostly himself, and Kibum helps him ride it out. By the time oversensitivity of post orgasmic bliss kicks in, Taemin's nails dig crescents onto Kibum's shoulder blades, and all he can really do is quiver and push weakly at Kibum.
"Come on…" Taemin whispers, when he realizes that Kibum isn't stopping until he's had his fix. "Come, Kibum. Come on."
Kibum comes when Taemin tightens around him, either on purpose or due to the spasms. He finishes every last drop, connecting his forehead to Taemin's clavicle while still thrusting a few last times.
Eventually, Kibum pulls out, prying himself away from Taemin's panting self, all sticky and sweating.
"Can you…" Taemin continues to pant. "Can you reach that… box of tissues… by the… the…" Kibum languidly reaches for the box, passes it to his other hand, and then allows the box to propel to the space on the mattress between them. "…thanks."
Kibum hears Taemin tug a few tissues from the box, probably to clean himself up, even if just by that much before he goes to bed.
Kibum rolls the condom off seconds later.
Taemin silently passes him two tissues that he accepts with this awkward, tight-lipped smile. He wraps the condom into the tissues, holding it in his hands for a few beats because he's not ready to walk to the waste bin yet.
"Here." Taemin's hand snatches the tissue-condom from him before he can say anything. From his position on the bed, he makes a blind endeavor to shoot at the trash bin by the end of the bed. The tissue bounces off the wall and lands on the carpet beside the trash bin anyway.
Kibum's head reconnects with the mattress. "You missed."
"I'll get it later." Taemin waves a hand dismissively.
Kibum isn't sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly he senses Taemin sliding higher up the mattress, albeit despairingly. "D'you want a blanket?"
It only registers on Kibum that he's being addressed. "What, yeah, sure."
"Come up." Taemin offers.
Kibum groans. If a blanket is at the expense of moving, he'd rather--
"Come on, Kibum." Now, Taemin's pulling him up by his arm and Kibum would prefer to just do as he's told because arguing seems much less alluring.
Taemin kicks at the blankets.
Kibum, upon seeing this, does the same.
They slip their feet under the blanket and only then does Kibum realize that they weren't fucking on just mattress sheets earlier. It's all warm under the covers now.
"It's not real." Kibum groggily mumbles, snuggling up into Taemin's pillows, eyes closed.
"Hm?"
"My jacket isn't… real… leath… er"
Taemin nods, smiling, and then thinks that Kibum will never notice him doing these things because he's probably already half asleep.
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-- okay so, uhm, random update.
just because it's been a while.
and who doesn't need to practice writing
smut, right?