chomping at the bit. kai/chen. two.
♘
“what do you mean, i’m running in the santa anita handicap?” sehun looks hungover and sleepy as fuck, and jongin decides to have mercy on him since this is sehun’s last spring break ever, and rolls up the windows of the pickup as they get on the highway, old engine roaring.
“no,” jongin says, “my horse sehun.”
“you gave my precious name to an animal!”
so maybe jongin had kind of made up the written permission that let him name his race horse after a person when he submitted sehun’s paperwork to the racing board. whatever.
“don’t talk about your namesake like that,” jongin admonishes, and sehun seethes in the passenger seat. “sehun is a thoroughbred race horse. you should be honored.”
sehun sits back, thinking this over. “well, at least we’re both virile stallions.”
“i wouldn’t go that far,” jongin says, “but she’s a good horse. kind of looks like you in the face.”
“why are we still friends?” sehun pouts, poking jongin in the cheek with his sharp nails.
“no hassling the driver.” jongin bats his hand away and mutters, “sehun the horse is never mean to me.” he’s glad chen isn’t here to correct him.
sehun ignores him pointedly. “who’s your jockey? one of your father’s?”
“no, someone else.” unwillingly, jongin remembers how chen’s fingers had felt against his lips, the juice of the apple sweet on his tongue, and flushes.
“and?” sehun looks at him suspiciously. “there’s something you’re not telling me about this.”
“what? no. i tell you everything.”
“you didn’t tell me you named your noble steed after me.”
“i just told you! right now!”
“and how old is the horse, jongin? was it born yesterday?”
“there’s nothing to tell you about chen,” jongin says, avoiding the answer of ‘two years ago’ and sehun’s face hasn’t lit up like this since that sophomore year party at yixing’s frat, where he’d caught kris wu getting head from three girls at once in the game room and had managed to snag four photos before he was caught.
“oooh, his name is chen. is he cute? do you like to watch him in his little riding pants, ass bobbing up and down in the air as he rides your little pony ‘round and ‘round the track--”
sehun is insufferable. “shut up.”
“you know,” sehun says thoughtfully, “this sounds like a good setting for a porno. leather harnesses, riding crops, and assless chaps. sounds like your kind of party. we could call it raunchy rodeo. or riding side-saddle. or, i know! bareback in the saddle again--”
“oh look, we’re here!” jongin shouts, too loud, with relief, and sehun groans and covers his ears.
“have pity on me, man. i’m hungover, you’ve been living a porno, and you named your female horse after me. i’m not having a good morning.”
“you’re not having a good morning?” jongin asks. “i’m the one--”
“you need a new truck,” sehun says. “i feel like i just drove to the races in a blender.”
“don’t talk about my truck. it can hear you.” he leans over to pat the hood as he locks the doors. “it’s okay baby. he doesn’t know you like i do.”
“and a pickup? really? must you be a stereotype.” sehun grunts. “where did you even get this piece of shit truck?”
“hey, pickups are cool. chanyeol drives a pickup.”
“chanyeol drives a souped up toyota tundra with gold rims and thinks it makes him look like a pimp.” sehun pushes his pink hair out of his face and looks up at the racetrack. “why is everything in california tacky as fuck.”
“don’t worry, you’ll be back in astoria by next week, sehun.”
“speaking of chanyeol,” sehun says. “where is the best thing your state has to offer? and by that i mean his dick.”
“gross,” jongin says. “just... gross.” sehun’s crush on chanyeol has always been disgusting. “i still don’t know if he likes guys.”
“everyone likes me,” sehun says. “they just don’t know it yet.”
chanyeol is with chen and sehun-the-horse, already out of the track stable and watching as the horses from the earlier, smaller races, file off the track.
jongin is wearing his canvas jacket with the watercolor horse on the front for luck, and chen makes a face at it as they approach. playfully, jongin makes a face right back, but chen is in his green stable silks and the way his waist and thighs look in the outfit has him speechless.
sehun slows when he catches sight of the horse, eyeing her like she’s competition, but sehun-the-horse hasn’t even noticed them, too busy looking around at the crowd that’s gathered to watch the race.
“that jacket is an abomination,” chanyeol says when they get close, shaking his head as though jongin is a lost cause and chen smirks.
“at least he’s not wearing the sandals.”
jongin frowns. “why would i wear those to a race? they’re my party shoes.”
“hopeless,” chen says, but he’s smiling and jongin’s insides are tying themselves into knots and little bows like ribbon on a christmas present.
“chen, this is sehun,” jongin says, catching his breath and trying to introduce them, but sehun is too busy stalking his race horse namesake to pay attention. jongin grabs ahold of sehun’s hand and yanks him forward into the conversation.
“ouch!” sehun glares at him, using his free hand to rub his shoulder like his arm had come out of the socket. “jongin, you great oaf. you can’t tug me around like that. i’m a delicate flower.”
chen looks down at their joined hands, that tiny frown from the party back on his face, and jongin lets go quickly.
“so you’re the guy kim jongin named his beloved horse after,” chen says, mouth still turned down and making him look like an angry kitty, like when he and jongin had first met. “i’ve been waiting to meet you, since you seem so important to him.’
“oh yes,” sehun says, draping himself all over jongin’s shoulder until their cheeks are smushed together. “i am the one true light of kim jongin’s life.”
jongin closes his eyes and wishes very hard to become one with the dirt on the racetrack.
for once, chanyeol comes to his rescue. “good to see you again, sehun,” he says, and sehun thankfully peels himself away from jongin.
“chanyeol,” sehun says, voice so greasy it could be mistaken for an oil slick, “you’re looking... tall.”
jongin opens his eyes again, and chanyeol is standing up proudly, puffing his chest out and fingering the brim of his stetson. “it’s the hat.”
“and also probably this very small horse.” sehun leans forward, staring into sehun’s huge horsey eyes. “this town ain’t big enough for the both of us,” he says solemnly to sehun, and sehun-the-horse loudly blows a raspberry, sending little bits of horse spit onto sehun-the-man’s face.
“guess you’re the one that leaves,” chen says, brusque and still frowning. chen is always snappy, but jongin’s never seen him be rude like this before.
“look, you little sassy man, i don’t know what jongin sees in you, but i’m attempting to bond with my namesake.”
chen gapes, and jongin, feeling more embarrassed than he’d previously realized he could be, looks at everything but chen. “way to go, sehun,” he mumbles, as chanyeol cackles at both everything and nothing, leaning really, really close to sehun-the-man, looking captivated by the color of his hair. chanyeol’s always been easily distracted by bright shiny things.
“i still can’t believe you named your tiny race horse after me,” sehun says, using the sleeve of jongin’s jacket to wipe off his face and jongin flails to make him stop, just barely missing sehun’s nose.
“i don’t know,” chanyeol says, “i’ve always felt a certain kindredship with horses. because of, you know, certain parts of our anatomy.” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no question as to what he’s talking about. jongin gags. sehun looks intrigued, like he’d like to gag in the future. jongin is Upset.
chen is still quiet, and jongin chances a glimpse at him. he’s staring at jongin, speculatively, and jongin hopes that even if chen knows that jongin has a massive crush on him, he’s not going to end the friendship they’ve finally managed to form. after the race, jongin decides, he can maybe weasel his way out of it, and tell chen it’s a long-running joke between him and sehun where they try to ruin each other’s lives or something. that’s practically the truth anyway, at least on sehun’s end.
the announcer tells the spectators over the loudspeaker to head to their seats because it’s almost time for the main event, the handicap, and the groom assigned to chen and sehun comes up, waiting to lead them up to the gate. chanyeol gives sehun-the-horse one last pat, and takes sehun’s arm. “let’s watch the race from the best seats jongin’s dad’s money can buy.”
“those must be some great seats,” sehun says with a low whistle. “because daddy kim has a lot of money.” he smiles sweetly at chanyeol. “you’re going to sit next to me, right?”
“yeah,” chanyeol says, looking dazed. “i think i am.”
“good,” sehun purrs, leaving jongin and chen standing next to sehun as jongin nervously checks all the fastens on sehun’s underside, still not looking at chen.
“if you’re not careful,” chen says, “you’re going to lose your boyfriend to chanyeol.”
jongin is so flabbergasted he looks up at chen, who is steadfastly studying his own silks. “my boyfriend?” the horror must drip from his tone, because chen’s head jumps up, his eyes meeting jongin’s. “why would you say a terrible thing like that?”
“he’s not?”
“i would rather give myself a vasectomy with a spoon than date oh sehun.”
chen’s face transforms in front of jongin’s eyes, that familiar smirk once again pulling on the corner of his lips. “i see,” he says.
“and anyway,” jongin says, shouting at himself to shut up shut up shut up, “i thought it was fairly obvious that i like you and your perfect cheekbones and your really fucking tight pants and constant smirking--” he slaps his hands over his own mouth to hold the words in, and they smell like leather oil and he’s probably going to have strands of sehun’s coat on his face.
now chen is laughing at him, and jongin somehow hasn’t expired from embarrassment. “don’t be so nice,” and the groom steps closer, clearing his throat, “you’re getting under my skin.” the way he says it is like a promise, and wow, maybe this all a secret plan to make jongin so hot he can’t bear to wear his jacket. he tugs at the collar with one finger as chen walks away with sehun.
“good luck,” he croaks out, and chen waves at him, smiling confidently.
“i don’t need luck,” he says. “i’m a good jockey on a good horse, remember?”
jongin still feels in danger of melting when he gets to his seat, but sehun practically in chanyeol’s lap is like an ice-cold shower.
“guess he likes boys,” jongin says to himself, and wishes he knew for certain that he could say the same for chen.
“you’d better win,” chanyeol says, taking a break from admiring sehun to grin at his friend. his stetson is askew on his head. “i bet a lot of money on sehun.” sehun-the-man looks smug. “and you. your team. you guyssssss.” he points obnoxiously with two finger guns. sehun seems inexplicably charmed.
“no pressure,” jongin mumbles. “thanks.”
“think of it as a vote of confidence,” sehun says. “no horse named after me, who has a jockey with an ass that fab, is going to lose.”
“exactly!” chanyeol says, cheerfully to the last.
jongin holds his breath and waits for the gun.
♘
bulbs flash. sehun, both sehuns, actually, love it, but sehun-the-horse is preening under the winners blanket of flowers as chen leans forward in the saddle to pat her neck. his own face is flushed with pride and joy, and jongin is still in shock.
“she won? they won? we won?” he keeps repeating it until chanyeol slaps his back, hard, sending him reeling forward and back into reality. “we won!”
“i made so much money,” chanyeol says. “the next rims i buy are going to have diamonds on them.”
“i’m happy for you,” jongin says faintly. he can’t take his eyes off of chen, who’s still wearing his cap, goggles pushed up off of his eyes.
chen gets down from the horse and disappears behind the reports, so jongin pushes his way up into winners circle.
“aren’t you going to congratulate me?” chen says, excited and smiley, and jongin can’t help himself-- he picks chen up off of his feet in a bear hug as sehun whinnies loudly and triumphantly.
jongin can hear the reporters and sort of see the flashes still going off, but he’s focused on chen, who is squirming in his arms, yelling “put me down, kim jongin!”
they pose for a picture, jongin using it as an excuse to put his arm around chen’s shoulder and pull him close. he fits perfectly under jongin’s arm.
he sees sehun-the-man outside the circle, staring at him knowingly, and he flushes before squeezing chen even tighter.
“i am not toothpaste, kim jongin,” chen says. “you’re squeezing me so tight my brain is going to come out of my nose. it won’t smell like mint, i promise you that.”
“sorry,” jongin says, but his grin is unrepentant and chen doesn’t actually seem too mad, his own arm hesitantly coming up to wrap around jongin’s waist for the last few shots.
through the sea of reporters, jongin spots his father stepping into the winner’s circle. he comes over, and jongin pulls away from chen to speak with him.
“congratulations,” his dad says, looking torn between proud and resigned. “your little horse won after all.”
“she’s a great horse,” jongin says, “but then, the jockey i hired is great too.”
his father looks at chen for a moment. “you’ll run the stable well, jongin. are you sure that’s what you want?”
“yes,” jongin says firmly. “this is what i want.”
“you’re just like your mother,” his dad says. “i wish you’d come work at the company with me, but you’ll do fine.”
“i will,” jongin says. “this is what makes me happy.”
“looks like your jockey makes you happy, too.”
“oh god,” jongin says. “do we have to do this?”
“bring him over to dinner, jongin. no excuses. your sisters will want to meet him.”
“dad, it’s not like that--”
“sehun will go back to the stables in the main truck with the other horses,” his dad says, cutting him off. “you can meet her there.”
“hey dad?” jongin says, as his dad sees an associate in the crowd and starts to drift toward him. “thanks.”
♘
chen is waiting with chanyeol and sehun after jongin says goodbye to his dad and sehun-the-horse. he’s changed out of his silks, and he’s wearing another pair of those horrible, wonderful, skinny jeans and they almost distract jongin from the way sehun is clinging to chanyeol a succubus, cooing over his biceps and calling him ‘naughty cowboy’.
“chanyeol,” sehun says, when he spots jongin heading towards them, “you naughty cowboy, you should show me your truck.”
“oh yeah! I just got these new rims--”
“you should show me the inside of your truck,” sehun says pointedly.
“oh,” chanyeol says, and then the lightbulb turns on. “oooooooooh.”
“let’s see which of us really should have had a horse named after us,” sehun says, and jongin wonders how many victory beers that is going to take to forget.
“well,” chen says. “chanyeol was my ride back to the stable, but it seems i can never get into his truck again.”
“i’ll drive you back,” jongin says. now that they’re alone, jongin remembers all the stuff he said before the race. “if you’re okay with it. i mean. after i said--” he stops, takes a breath. “if that’s an acceptable alternative to chanyeol’s pimpin’ tundra.”
“it’s fine,” chen says, smiling secretively. “actually, that would be really nice.”
“yeah?” jongin leads them both toward his pickup, and chen snorts at it, same as he always has.
“you picked up your ‘delicate flower’ in this? i thought you had a rich-boy car hidden away somewhere.”
“no,” jongin says. “what’s wrong with my truck?”
“i like it,” chen says. “it’s got character.”
jongin finds it completely and totally unfair that chen is perfect. he also finds it unfair that chen hasn’t rejected him yet, which means jongin’s heart is kind of holding on to the hope that he isn’t going to.
they ride back in silence, chen looking out the window and jongin doing his best to keep his eyes on the road. finally, jongin cracks. “aren’t you going to say something?”
“about what?” chen asks. chen’s still looking out the window, but jongin’s covert glances reveal that chen’s lips are pulling into a smile.
“about. you know. what i--” jongin sighs and slams his hands on the steering wheel. “you know!”
“oh,” chen says. “the whole ‘you liking me’ thing?” his smile grows. “i didn’t think there was much to say.”
“oh,” jongin says, deflating. he doesn’t know why he’d allowed himself to think-- “i hope that you will still stay on as sehun’s jockey, because i really--”
“i was actually waiting until we got back to the stable,” chen says. “so i could bend you over one of the hay bales and fuck you without an audience.”
jongin almost drives off the road. he feels faint, and there’s a churning excitement in his stomach. “oh,” jongin says, differently this time. “i--” he looks at the shoulder of the highway, contemplating pulling off the road before he kills them both.
“don’t you dare pull over,” chen says. “i won’t be held responsible for my actions if you do that.” he puts his hand on jongin’s knee, then drags it slowly up jongin’s thigh. jongin chokes.
then he puts his foot down heavy on the accelerator.
♘
they stumble out of the car and into the stable, jongin’s eyes lingering for one moment on sehun’s occupied stall before chen grabs two handfuls of his shirt and rises up to his toes to kiss him.
“you drive pretty fast,” chen says, angling his head so their lips slide together more easily. he tastes, impossibly, like bubble gum, and jongin can only swipe his tongue at the seam of chen’s lips for more. chen parts his lips and kisses jongin deeper, until jongin is lightheaded and dizzy and so hot he could melt like a popsicle on an august day.
“i didn’t really have a choice,” jongin replies, kissing at those lovely cheekbones and down the smooth line of chen’s jaw. he loves how soft chen’s skin is under his lips.
meanwhile, chen’s hands are sliding up under jongin’s jacket. “i can’t wait to get you out of this,” chen says. “for more than one reason, let me tell you.”
jongin is pretty sure this is once again a slight to his fashion choices, but it is hard to concentrate on that when chen’s small, nimble fingers are drawing patterns into the bare skin of jongin’s stomach and his breath is warm and sticky on his neck. “i will let you be the one to take it off,” jongin vows, and chen’s resultant laugh goes straight to jongin’s cock.
“good boy,” chen says, guiding their mouths together again. “have some sugar.” he kisses jongin deeply, this time teasing his tongue into jongin’s mouth, curling around it. chen kisses the way he talks, all windy and twisty and sharp, and jongin, much like when he responds verbally, can only do his best to keep up.
“i thought you were kidding about the hay,” jongin gasps when chen pushes him down on one of the bales, before climbing into his lap. jongin’s hands automatically grasp at his waist, steadying him, and chen is dipping his head to catch jongin’s mouth.
“i’m never kidding about fucking,” chen says, grinding down, and jongin’s eyes are about to roll unsexily back into his head.
“stop, oh my god, we have to stop,” jongin says. chen immediately removes his hands from jongin’s pants, and man, jongin shouldn’t have sounded so urgent because he misses them. “the horses.”
“we’re in a stable, yes,” chen says. “there are horses, because that is the purpose of a stable. it holds, you guessed it, horses.” his lips are swollen and pink and jongin lifts his head to capture them again. “you’re making me confused.”
“we can’t fuck in front of sehun,” jongin says. “what if it scars her? she’s only two years old! she’s not old enough for this. she’ll never be old enough for this.”
chen looks down at jongin blankly for a moment, processing, before he starts laughing, his hands sliding back down into jongin’s jeans. “you are very lucky you’re cute,” chen says, “because you are really weird.” he starts nibbling again at jongin’s neck, teeth nicking at the skin and making that knot in jongin’s stomach clench tighter. “that’s okay, because weirdos are usually freaks in the sheets.”
“sheets!” jongin gasps, as his hand fists in chen’s hair. it’s as soft as it looks. “that’s... ah... a good idea. i have those.”
“do you,” chen drawls. “you really don’t want me to fuck you over the hay, do you?” he pats jongin’s butt. “we’ll work up to it.”
the walk to jongin’s house is perilous, mostly because chen won’t stop touching him, trying to slip his hands down jongin’s pants at every opportunity, and jongin nearly trips each time, because, fuck, chen’s hands, calloused from the leather reins, feel amazing. luckily, they don’t have far to go, and jongin fumbles with his keys while chen goes to work on his neck again, teeth scraping in a way that has jongin’s hair raising.
they strip on their way up the stairs to jongin’s bedroom, chen’s shirt catching on the stairwell sconce. it’s left to hang there as jongin pulls chen insistently down the hall, practically lifting him off his feet to keep their mouths connected. the bedroom door falls open, and chen backs jongin up until his knees catch the edge of the bed, sending him sprawling onto the mattress.
above him, chen’s eyes catch the glow of the alarm clock display, green glittering across his pupils and the swollen shape of his lips, and then dripping into the hollows of chen’s bare collar bones. jongin reaches up, pressing the flat of his hand reverently to the soft skin of chen’s stomach and feeling the muscles clench at the touch.
“i really like you,” jongin blurts out, and chen pauses, before looking down at jongin and laughing.
“you’re so nice,” chen says. “i like you too, you idiot.” he rolls his eyes. “now roll over.” he slaps jongin’s thigh, like jongin is a pony he wants to move faster, and jongin’s not sure if he’s resentful or turned on. (or if he wants chen to bring his riding crop next time.) his cock decides for him, getting harder, if that’s even possible, and jongin whimpers and rolls onto his stomach, letting chen pull upward on his hips. “i’m going to take off your jeans,” chen says. “okay?”
“i’m not some blushing virgin,” jongin says. “i did go to boarding school.”
“you are blushing, though,” chen says, which is mortifying. “don’t worry, i like it.”
jongin smothers his face in the pillow as chen pulls down his pants, taking his underwear with them. they get caught around his knees, and jongin wonders if he’s supposed to somehow help chen get them all the way off, but chen seems content with letting them stay there, trapping jongin’s legs together in a tangle of denim and cotton. there is a rustle behind him, of chen taking his jeans off, maybe, and jongin is winded by how fast they got here-- mostly naked in jongin’s bedroom, with jongin’s ass in the air as chen comes up behind him.
chen slides his hands up the back of jongin’s thighs, lightly, drawing them up all the way to jongin’s back and then up to his shoulders. he drapes himself across jongin, then, cock nestling in jongin’s asscrack as jongin’s arms tremble from the extra weight. “have you ever done this before, my blushing not-virgin?”
“not... like this,” jongin says, pushing his ass back into chen, earning a groan.
chen reaches a hand around, stroking jongin’s belly before moving down to grasp jongin’s cock. “we’ll have to be careful then. take things nice and slow.”
his grip tightens, but his hand doesn’t move, and jongin whines, “god, please, don’t go slow.”
chen laughs in his ear, the vibrations moving through chen’s chest to where he’s pressed against jongin’s back, skin on skin. wriggling his hips, jongin tries to get chen’s hand to move, hissing when chen’s cock slides between his cheeks, hot against the sensitive skin there.
“come on,” jongin grinds out, but chen only licks at his nape, dragging his teeth over jongin’s hairline.
“you have to say the magic word,” chen says playfully, nudging at jongin’s ear, and then lapping at its rim.
“what?”
“what do you say when you want a horsey to speed up, jongin?” he’s nibbling at jongin’s ear now, free hand pulling jongin’s asscheeks apart so his cock can move more freely, but his fingers are wrapped tight around jongin’s cock, keeping him from moving.
“um.” jongin licks at his dry lips, trying to keep his brain from melting into his spine. “giddyup?”
“tonight, i’m going to let you be the jockey.” jongin whimpers as chen finally slides his thumb up the shaft, along the vein on the underside, slowly and purposefully. “do you have lube?”
“drawer,” jongin says. “somewhere...”
“hold on for me a second, okay?” chen disappears from behind him, leaving jongin cold and shivering in the middle of the bed as chen rummages around in jongin’s drawers. jongin hopes there’s nothing super embarrassing in there, but what could be more embarrassing than lube? “are these beyblade trading cards?”
“can you just fuck me?” jongin buries his face deeper in his pillow, now noticing the way the waist of his jeans is digging into his skin, and the way his throbbing cock is leaving sticky precome on the bedspread beneath him.
“i would love to,” chen says. “but first we have to get you all stretched out.” he laughs. “you don’t just start with a hard run right out of the gate. you’ve got to warm up first.”
he’s behind jongin again, running his hands up and down to heat cool skin, and jongin swallows all the saliva that’s built up in his mouth. “so go ahead then,” jongin says. “warm me up.”
chen is probably smiling that stupid smug smile. it makes jongin harder just thinking about it. then there are cool, slick fingers sliding slowly down his crack. “relax, okay?”
“okay,” jongin says, and there’s pressure, chen’s index finger circling the ring of muscle slowly, pressing in but not enough. “just... can you--” then a single digit is slipping in, slow, and it burns but jongin pushes back on it impatiently.
chen stops him with a hand on the small of his back, steadying him and curving his finger inside a little. jongin’s toes curl. chen’s hands look good holding the reins of sehun’s bridle, fingers twisted into the leather, but jongin thinks he might like them better here, holding him open and slicking him up for chen’s cock.
“ready for another, cowboy?” chen asks, and jongin hisses through his teeth, pushing back against chen’s hand. “i’ll take that as a yes.”
he lets another finger sit against the rim for a moment in warning before starting to slowly slide it in alongside the other. this one stings more, but he gets used to it faster, too, as chen starts to separate the fingers, scissoring them apart even as he crooks them down on a quest for jongin’s sweet spot. “chen,” jongin says, “if you don’t hurry up--”
“let me know when i find it,” chen says, adding a third finger. he presses all three fingers down and jongin’s vision goes hazy as the pleasure spreads out in unsteady bursts at the push.
“fuck,” jongin says, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“aha!” chen says, victorious, and begins fucking jongin hard with his fingers, until jongin is swearing and yelling into his pillow, nothing but wobbly thighs and trembling knees keeping him from falling flat on the bed.
by the time he stops, jongin feels boneless, and chen moves him gently, so he has space to sit down against the headboard.
“okay,” chen says, holding jongin up by his waist. he guides jongin’s legs to either side of his hips, so that jongin is straddling him. their skin is sliding and catching because of the sweat between them, and chen’s hair is mussed from jongin’s hands. jongin wants to reach out and smooth it down, but he’s too busy holding himself steady with his palm pressed to chen’s chest.
a little shaky, jongin grabs the square package chen had left on the bedside table during his rummaging earlier, and tears it with his teeth. chen watches with hot eyes as jongin rolls the condom on, groping around the bed for the bottle of lube to slick chen up. hands still holding his waist, chen helps jongin rise up on his knees, and he grasps chen’s cock and sinks down onto it with a long, low moan.
“shit,” chen breathes harshly. “you’re-- “
“yeah.” jongin’s insides are shuddering, stretched by the girth of chen’s cock as he settles down onto him completely. “it’s so--” he tries to move, pressing his hands to chen’s chest for balance again, and lifting his hips.
chen grabs his waist, stilling him. “wait a minute,” he says, “until your body adjusts.”
“this isn’t my first time at the races,” jongin says.
“but it is your first time riding a race horse,” chen says, “so slow the fuck down.” he’s panting as he speaks, and jongin clenches around him in reprimand.
“you wanted me to ride you,” jongin says, “so let me.” jongin leans down, so that their noses almost touch, and up close, jongin can see the thin sheen of sweat on chen’s skin and feel the shallowness of his breath. “giddyup,” he whispers, and chen’s hips thrust up, hard, into jongin before jongin can even straighten back up.
jongin’s fingernails dig into chen’s chest to steady himself, and he claims chen’s mouth for a moment, licking the roof once before pulling himself back and upright.
fucking chen is actually nothing like riding a horse. chen is full of all these amazing noises and he’s surprisingly strong. he’s strong enough, at least, to lift jongin up and down with every thrust even when jongin has lost himself to the friction inside of him and the sweat and the heat everywhere they touch. he also murmurs to jongin, with every scratch up jongin’s back, how good jongin looks like this, which lets jongin relax into how good everything feels.
chen’s thrusts start to become erratic, and he reaches one hand for jongin’s cock and starts to jack him off, fast. jongin is close, anyway, the constant hits to his prostate keeping him perpetually on edge, and as chen’s thumb presses into the slit he finds himself tumbling over, his orgasm flooding his system, and whiting everything out as he comes over chen’s stomach and hand.
beneath him, chen is panting, one trembling hand on jongin’s thigh as they both catch their breath.
“you already...?” jongin manages to piece together, and chen nods.
“yeah. that was-- “ the arms jongin was using to brace himself against chen’s front buckle, sending him forward onto chen’s chest. chen smells like sweat and sex and, hay, and his soap from his shower after the race, and maybe, very faintly, of horse. jongin licks out for a taste with his tongue and finds he likes it.
“i can’t wait till we work up to the stable,” chen says, still sounding a little shell-shocked, and jongin laughs into chen’s neck. today has been a day of many victories. “maybe i’ll even ride your tiny pony.”
“i find that euphemism very upsetting,” jongin replies. “because i actually have a tiny horse and i don’t want her involved in my sex life. we’re going to have to set boundaries.”
chen’s whole body is shaking with laughter. jongin curls around him and relishes the fact that he can. “well, she’s not in the stables all the time,” chen says. “and chanyeol owes us one for the mental trauma of knowing he’s probably fucking sehun-the-man in his truck right now.”
“don’t bring that up, you’re ruining the moment.”
“i’m always ruining the moment. it’s what assholes do.”
“well, now you’re dating a nice guy,” jongin says. “i like moments.” his words catch up to him. “wait, i’m not being presumptuous, right? about the dating thing. because if you don’t--”
“well, i guess i could do worse than a guy who owns and runs a stable full of thoroughbred race horses,” chen says, and the thrill of that victory, in particular, runs up and down jongin’s spine.
he smiles smugly, snuggling into chen’s arms. “it’s only right that i should be dating a winning jockey.”
“damn straight,” chen says, and jongin thinks kim jongdae was the best risk he’d ever taken, on or off the track.
♘
“what do you mean, i’m running in the santa anita handicap?” sehun looks hungover and sleepy as fuck, and jongin decides to have mercy on him since this is sehun’s last spring break ever, and rolls up the windows of the pickup as they get on the highway, old engine roaring.
“no,” jongin says, “my horse sehun.”
“you gave my precious name to an animal!”
so maybe jongin had kind of made up the written permission that let him name his race horse after a person when he submitted sehun’s paperwork to the racing board. whatever.
“don’t talk about your namesake like that,” jongin admonishes, and sehun seethes in the passenger seat. “sehun is a thoroughbred race horse. you should be honored.”
sehun sits back, thinking this over. “well, at least we’re both virile stallions.”
“i wouldn’t go that far,” jongin says, “but she’s a good horse. kind of looks like you in the face.”
“why are we still friends?” sehun pouts, poking jongin in the cheek with his sharp nails.
“no hassling the driver.” jongin bats his hand away and mutters, “sehun the horse is never mean to me.” he’s glad chen isn’t here to correct him.
sehun ignores him pointedly. “who’s your jockey? one of your father’s?”
“no, someone else.” unwillingly, jongin remembers how chen’s fingers had felt against his lips, the juice of the apple sweet on his tongue, and flushes.
“and?” sehun looks at him suspiciously. “there’s something you’re not telling me about this.”
“what? no. i tell you everything.”
“you didn’t tell me you named your noble steed after me.”
“i just told you! right now!”
“and how old is the horse, jongin? was it born yesterday?”
“there’s nothing to tell you about chen,” jongin says, avoiding the answer of ‘two years ago’ and sehun’s face hasn’t lit up like this since that sophomore year party at yixing’s frat, where he’d caught kris wu getting head from three girls at once in the game room and had managed to snag four photos before he was caught.
“oooh, his name is chen. is he cute? do you like to watch him in his little riding pants, ass bobbing up and down in the air as he rides your little pony ‘round and ‘round the track--”
sehun is insufferable. “shut up.”
“you know,” sehun says thoughtfully, “this sounds like a good setting for a porno. leather harnesses, riding crops, and assless chaps. sounds like your kind of party. we could call it raunchy rodeo. or riding side-saddle. or, i know! bareback in the saddle again--”
“oh look, we’re here!” jongin shouts, too loud, with relief, and sehun groans and covers his ears.
“have pity on me, man. i’m hungover, you’ve been living a porno, and you named your female horse after me. i’m not having a good morning.”
“you’re not having a good morning?” jongin asks. “i’m the one--”
“you need a new truck,” sehun says. “i feel like i just drove to the races in a blender.”
“don’t talk about my truck. it can hear you.” he leans over to pat the hood as he locks the doors. “it’s okay baby. he doesn’t know you like i do.”
“and a pickup? really? must you be a stereotype.” sehun grunts. “where did you even get this piece of shit truck?”
“hey, pickups are cool. chanyeol drives a pickup.”
“chanyeol drives a souped up toyota tundra with gold rims and thinks it makes him look like a pimp.” sehun pushes his pink hair out of his face and looks up at the racetrack. “why is everything in california tacky as fuck.”
“don’t worry, you’ll be back in astoria by next week, sehun.”
“speaking of chanyeol,” sehun says. “where is the best thing your state has to offer? and by that i mean his dick.”
“gross,” jongin says. “just... gross.” sehun’s crush on chanyeol has always been disgusting. “i still don’t know if he likes guys.”
“everyone likes me,” sehun says. “they just don’t know it yet.”
chanyeol is with chen and sehun-the-horse, already out of the track stable and watching as the horses from the earlier, smaller races, file off the track.
jongin is wearing his canvas jacket with the watercolor horse on the front for luck, and chen makes a face at it as they approach. playfully, jongin makes a face right back, but chen is in his green stable silks and the way his waist and thighs look in the outfit has him speechless.
sehun slows when he catches sight of the horse, eyeing her like she’s competition, but sehun-the-horse hasn’t even noticed them, too busy looking around at the crowd that’s gathered to watch the race.
“that jacket is an abomination,” chanyeol says when they get close, shaking his head as though jongin is a lost cause and chen smirks.
“at least he’s not wearing the sandals.”
jongin frowns. “why would i wear those to a race? they’re my party shoes.”
“hopeless,” chen says, but he’s smiling and jongin’s insides are tying themselves into knots and little bows like ribbon on a christmas present.
“chen, this is sehun,” jongin says, catching his breath and trying to introduce them, but sehun is too busy stalking his race horse namesake to pay attention. jongin grabs ahold of sehun’s hand and yanks him forward into the conversation.
“ouch!” sehun glares at him, using his free hand to rub his shoulder like his arm had come out of the socket. “jongin, you great oaf. you can’t tug me around like that. i’m a delicate flower.”
chen looks down at their joined hands, that tiny frown from the party back on his face, and jongin lets go quickly.
“so you’re the guy kim jongin named his beloved horse after,” chen says, mouth still turned down and making him look like an angry kitty, like when he and jongin had first met. “i’ve been waiting to meet you, since you seem so important to him.’
“oh yes,” sehun says, draping himself all over jongin’s shoulder until their cheeks are smushed together. “i am the one true light of kim jongin’s life.”
jongin closes his eyes and wishes very hard to become one with the dirt on the racetrack.
for once, chanyeol comes to his rescue. “good to see you again, sehun,” he says, and sehun thankfully peels himself away from jongin.
“chanyeol,” sehun says, voice so greasy it could be mistaken for an oil slick, “you’re looking... tall.”
jongin opens his eyes again, and chanyeol is standing up proudly, puffing his chest out and fingering the brim of his stetson. “it’s the hat.”
“and also probably this very small horse.” sehun leans forward, staring into sehun’s huge horsey eyes. “this town ain’t big enough for the both of us,” he says solemnly to sehun, and sehun-the-horse loudly blows a raspberry, sending little bits of horse spit onto sehun-the-man’s face.
“guess you’re the one that leaves,” chen says, brusque and still frowning. chen is always snappy, but jongin’s never seen him be rude like this before.
“look, you little sassy man, i don’t know what jongin sees in you, but i’m attempting to bond with my namesake.”
chen gapes, and jongin, feeling more embarrassed than he’d previously realized he could be, looks at everything but chen. “way to go, sehun,” he mumbles, as chanyeol cackles at both everything and nothing, leaning really, really close to sehun-the-man, looking captivated by the color of his hair. chanyeol’s always been easily distracted by bright shiny things.
“i still can’t believe you named your tiny race horse after me,” sehun says, using the sleeve of jongin’s jacket to wipe off his face and jongin flails to make him stop, just barely missing sehun’s nose.
“i don’t know,” chanyeol says, “i’ve always felt a certain kindredship with horses. because of, you know, certain parts of our anatomy.” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no question as to what he’s talking about. jongin gags. sehun looks intrigued, like he’d like to gag in the future. jongin is Upset.
chen is still quiet, and jongin chances a glimpse at him. he’s staring at jongin, speculatively, and jongin hopes that even if chen knows that jongin has a massive crush on him, he’s not going to end the friendship they’ve finally managed to form. after the race, jongin decides, he can maybe weasel his way out of it, and tell chen it’s a long-running joke between him and sehun where they try to ruin each other’s lives or something. that’s practically the truth anyway, at least on sehun’s end.
the announcer tells the spectators over the loudspeaker to head to their seats because it’s almost time for the main event, the handicap, and the groom assigned to chen and sehun comes up, waiting to lead them up to the gate. chanyeol gives sehun-the-horse one last pat, and takes sehun’s arm. “let’s watch the race from the best seats jongin’s dad’s money can buy.”
“those must be some great seats,” sehun says with a low whistle. “because daddy kim has a lot of money.” he smiles sweetly at chanyeol. “you’re going to sit next to me, right?”
“yeah,” chanyeol says, looking dazed. “i think i am.”
“good,” sehun purrs, leaving jongin and chen standing next to sehun as jongin nervously checks all the fastens on sehun’s underside, still not looking at chen.
“if you’re not careful,” chen says, “you’re going to lose your boyfriend to chanyeol.”
jongin is so flabbergasted he looks up at chen, who is steadfastly studying his own silks. “my boyfriend?” the horror must drip from his tone, because chen’s head jumps up, his eyes meeting jongin’s. “why would you say a terrible thing like that?”
“he’s not?”
“i would rather give myself a vasectomy with a spoon than date oh sehun.”
chen’s face transforms in front of jongin’s eyes, that familiar smirk once again pulling on the corner of his lips. “i see,” he says.
“and anyway,” jongin says, shouting at himself to shut up shut up shut up, “i thought it was fairly obvious that i like you and your perfect cheekbones and your really fucking tight pants and constant smirking--” he slaps his hands over his own mouth to hold the words in, and they smell like leather oil and he’s probably going to have strands of sehun’s coat on his face.
now chen is laughing at him, and jongin somehow hasn’t expired from embarrassment. “don’t be so nice,” and the groom steps closer, clearing his throat, “you’re getting under my skin.” the way he says it is like a promise, and wow, maybe this all a secret plan to make jongin so hot he can’t bear to wear his jacket. he tugs at the collar with one finger as chen walks away with sehun.
“good luck,” he croaks out, and chen waves at him, smiling confidently.
“i don’t need luck,” he says. “i’m a good jockey on a good horse, remember?”
jongin still feels in danger of melting when he gets to his seat, but sehun practically in chanyeol’s lap is like an ice-cold shower.
“guess he likes boys,” jongin says to himself, and wishes he knew for certain that he could say the same for chen.
“you’d better win,” chanyeol says, taking a break from admiring sehun to grin at his friend. his stetson is askew on his head. “i bet a lot of money on sehun.” sehun-the-man looks smug. “and you. your team. you guyssssss.” he points obnoxiously with two finger guns. sehun seems inexplicably charmed.
“no pressure,” jongin mumbles. “thanks.”
“think of it as a vote of confidence,” sehun says. “no horse named after me, who has a jockey with an ass that fab, is going to lose.”
“exactly!” chanyeol says, cheerfully to the last.
jongin holds his breath and waits for the gun.
♘
bulbs flash. sehun, both sehuns, actually, love it, but sehun-the-horse is preening under the winners blanket of flowers as chen leans forward in the saddle to pat her neck. his own face is flushed with pride and joy, and jongin is still in shock.
“she won? they won? we won?” he keeps repeating it until chanyeol slaps his back, hard, sending him reeling forward and back into reality. “we won!”
“i made so much money,” chanyeol says. “the next rims i buy are going to have diamonds on them.”
“i’m happy for you,” jongin says faintly. he can’t take his eyes off of chen, who’s still wearing his cap, goggles pushed up off of his eyes.
chen gets down from the horse and disappears behind the reports, so jongin pushes his way up into winners circle.
“aren’t you going to congratulate me?” chen says, excited and smiley, and jongin can’t help himself-- he picks chen up off of his feet in a bear hug as sehun whinnies loudly and triumphantly.
jongin can hear the reporters and sort of see the flashes still going off, but he’s focused on chen, who is squirming in his arms, yelling “put me down, kim jongin!”
they pose for a picture, jongin using it as an excuse to put his arm around chen’s shoulder and pull him close. he fits perfectly under jongin’s arm.
he sees sehun-the-man outside the circle, staring at him knowingly, and he flushes before squeezing chen even tighter.
“i am not toothpaste, kim jongin,” chen says. “you’re squeezing me so tight my brain is going to come out of my nose. it won’t smell like mint, i promise you that.”
“sorry,” jongin says, but his grin is unrepentant and chen doesn’t actually seem too mad, his own arm hesitantly coming up to wrap around jongin’s waist for the last few shots.
through the sea of reporters, jongin spots his father stepping into the winner’s circle. he comes over, and jongin pulls away from chen to speak with him.
“congratulations,” his dad says, looking torn between proud and resigned. “your little horse won after all.”
“she’s a great horse,” jongin says, “but then, the jockey i hired is great too.”
his father looks at chen for a moment. “you’ll run the stable well, jongin. are you sure that’s what you want?”
“yes,” jongin says firmly. “this is what i want.”
“you’re just like your mother,” his dad says. “i wish you’d come work at the company with me, but you’ll do fine.”
“i will,” jongin says. “this is what makes me happy.”
“looks like your jockey makes you happy, too.”
“oh god,” jongin says. “do we have to do this?”
“bring him over to dinner, jongin. no excuses. your sisters will want to meet him.”
“dad, it’s not like that--”
“sehun will go back to the stables in the main truck with the other horses,” his dad says, cutting him off. “you can meet her there.”
“hey dad?” jongin says, as his dad sees an associate in the crowd and starts to drift toward him. “thanks.”
♘
chen is waiting with chanyeol and sehun after jongin says goodbye to his dad and sehun-the-horse. he’s changed out of his silks, and he’s wearing another pair of those horrible, wonderful, skinny jeans and they almost distract jongin from the way sehun is clinging to chanyeol a succubus, cooing over his biceps and calling him ‘naughty cowboy’.
“chanyeol,” sehun says, when he spots jongin heading towards them, “you naughty cowboy, you should show me your truck.”
“oh yeah! I just got these new rims--”
“you should show me the inside of your truck,” sehun says pointedly.
“oh,” chanyeol says, and then the lightbulb turns on. “oooooooooh.”
“let’s see which of us really should have had a horse named after us,” sehun says, and jongin wonders how many victory beers that is going to take to forget.
“well,” chen says. “chanyeol was my ride back to the stable, but it seems i can never get into his truck again.”
“i’ll drive you back,” jongin says. now that they’re alone, jongin remembers all the stuff he said before the race. “if you’re okay with it. i mean. after i said--” he stops, takes a breath. “if that’s an acceptable alternative to chanyeol’s pimpin’ tundra.”
“it’s fine,” chen says, smiling secretively. “actually, that would be really nice.”
“yeah?” jongin leads them both toward his pickup, and chen snorts at it, same as he always has.
“you picked up your ‘delicate flower’ in this? i thought you had a rich-boy car hidden away somewhere.”
“no,” jongin says. “what’s wrong with my truck?”
“i like it,” chen says. “it’s got character.”
jongin finds it completely and totally unfair that chen is perfect. he also finds it unfair that chen hasn’t rejected him yet, which means jongin’s heart is kind of holding on to the hope that he isn’t going to.
they ride back in silence, chen looking out the window and jongin doing his best to keep his eyes on the road. finally, jongin cracks. “aren’t you going to say something?”
“about what?” chen asks. chen’s still looking out the window, but jongin’s covert glances reveal that chen’s lips are pulling into a smile.
“about. you know. what i--” jongin sighs and slams his hands on the steering wheel. “you know!”
“oh,” chen says. “the whole ‘you liking me’ thing?” his smile grows. “i didn’t think there was much to say.”
“oh,” jongin says, deflating. he doesn’t know why he’d allowed himself to think-- “i hope that you will still stay on as sehun’s jockey, because i really--”
“i was actually waiting until we got back to the stable,” chen says. “so i could bend you over one of the hay bales and fuck you without an audience.”
jongin almost drives off the road. he feels faint, and there’s a churning excitement in his stomach. “oh,” jongin says, differently this time. “i--” he looks at the shoulder of the highway, contemplating pulling off the road before he kills them both.
“don’t you dare pull over,” chen says. “i won’t be held responsible for my actions if you do that.” he puts his hand on jongin’s knee, then drags it slowly up jongin’s thigh. jongin chokes.
then he puts his foot down heavy on the accelerator.
♘
they stumble out of the car and into the stable, jongin’s eyes lingering for one moment on sehun’s occupied stall before chen grabs two handfuls of his shirt and rises up to his toes to kiss him.
“you drive pretty fast,” chen says, angling his head so their lips slide together more easily. he tastes, impossibly, like bubble gum, and jongin can only swipe his tongue at the seam of chen’s lips for more. chen parts his lips and kisses jongin deeper, until jongin is lightheaded and dizzy and so hot he could melt like a popsicle on an august day.
“i didn’t really have a choice,” jongin replies, kissing at those lovely cheekbones and down the smooth line of chen’s jaw. he loves how soft chen’s skin is under his lips.
meanwhile, chen’s hands are sliding up under jongin’s jacket. “i can’t wait to get you out of this,” chen says. “for more than one reason, let me tell you.”
jongin is pretty sure this is once again a slight to his fashion choices, but it is hard to concentrate on that when chen’s small, nimble fingers are drawing patterns into the bare skin of jongin’s stomach and his breath is warm and sticky on his neck. “i will let you be the one to take it off,” jongin vows, and chen’s resultant laugh goes straight to jongin’s cock.
“good boy,” chen says, guiding their mouths together again. “have some sugar.” he kisses jongin deeply, this time teasing his tongue into jongin’s mouth, curling around it. chen kisses the way he talks, all windy and twisty and sharp, and jongin, much like when he responds verbally, can only do his best to keep up.
“i thought you were kidding about the hay,” jongin gasps when chen pushes him down on one of the bales, before climbing into his lap. jongin’s hands automatically grasp at his waist, steadying him, and chen is dipping his head to catch jongin’s mouth.
“i’m never kidding about fucking,” chen says, grinding down, and jongin’s eyes are about to roll unsexily back into his head.
“stop, oh my god, we have to stop,” jongin says. chen immediately removes his hands from jongin’s pants, and man, jongin shouldn’t have sounded so urgent because he misses them. “the horses.”
“we’re in a stable, yes,” chen says. “there are horses, because that is the purpose of a stable. it holds, you guessed it, horses.” his lips are swollen and pink and jongin lifts his head to capture them again. “you’re making me confused.”
“we can’t fuck in front of sehun,” jongin says. “what if it scars her? she’s only two years old! she’s not old enough for this. she’ll never be old enough for this.”
chen looks down at jongin blankly for a moment, processing, before he starts laughing, his hands sliding back down into jongin’s jeans. “you are very lucky you’re cute,” chen says, “because you are really weird.” he starts nibbling again at jongin’s neck, teeth nicking at the skin and making that knot in jongin’s stomach clench tighter. “that’s okay, because weirdos are usually freaks in the sheets.”
“sheets!” jongin gasps, as his hand fists in chen’s hair. it’s as soft as it looks. “that’s... ah... a good idea. i have those.”
“do you,” chen drawls. “you really don’t want me to fuck you over the hay, do you?” he pats jongin’s butt. “we’ll work up to it.”
the walk to jongin’s house is perilous, mostly because chen won’t stop touching him, trying to slip his hands down jongin’s pants at every opportunity, and jongin nearly trips each time, because, fuck, chen’s hands, calloused from the leather reins, feel amazing. luckily, they don’t have far to go, and jongin fumbles with his keys while chen goes to work on his neck again, teeth scraping in a way that has jongin’s hair raising.
they strip on their way up the stairs to jongin’s bedroom, chen’s shirt catching on the stairwell sconce. it’s left to hang there as jongin pulls chen insistently down the hall, practically lifting him off his feet to keep their mouths connected. the bedroom door falls open, and chen backs jongin up until his knees catch the edge of the bed, sending him sprawling onto the mattress.
above him, chen’s eyes catch the glow of the alarm clock display, green glittering across his pupils and the swollen shape of his lips, and then dripping into the hollows of chen’s bare collar bones. jongin reaches up, pressing the flat of his hand reverently to the soft skin of chen’s stomach and feeling the muscles clench at the touch.
“i really like you,” jongin blurts out, and chen pauses, before looking down at jongin and laughing.
“you’re so nice,” chen says. “i like you too, you idiot.” he rolls his eyes. “now roll over.” he slaps jongin’s thigh, like jongin is a pony he wants to move faster, and jongin’s not sure if he’s resentful or turned on. (or if he wants chen to bring his riding crop next time.) his cock decides for him, getting harder, if that’s even possible, and jongin whimpers and rolls onto his stomach, letting chen pull upward on his hips. “i’m going to take off your jeans,” chen says. “okay?”
“i’m not some blushing virgin,” jongin says. “i did go to boarding school.”
“you are blushing, though,” chen says, which is mortifying. “don’t worry, i like it.”
jongin smothers his face in the pillow as chen pulls down his pants, taking his underwear with them. they get caught around his knees, and jongin wonders if he’s supposed to somehow help chen get them all the way off, but chen seems content with letting them stay there, trapping jongin’s legs together in a tangle of denim and cotton. there is a rustle behind him, of chen taking his jeans off, maybe, and jongin is winded by how fast they got here-- mostly naked in jongin’s bedroom, with jongin’s ass in the air as chen comes up behind him.
chen slides his hands up the back of jongin’s thighs, lightly, drawing them up all the way to jongin’s back and then up to his shoulders. he drapes himself across jongin, then, cock nestling in jongin’s asscrack as jongin’s arms tremble from the extra weight. “have you ever done this before, my blushing not-virgin?”
“not... like this,” jongin says, pushing his ass back into chen, earning a groan.
chen reaches a hand around, stroking jongin’s belly before moving down to grasp jongin’s cock. “we’ll have to be careful then. take things nice and slow.”
his grip tightens, but his hand doesn’t move, and jongin whines, “god, please, don’t go slow.”
chen laughs in his ear, the vibrations moving through chen’s chest to where he’s pressed against jongin’s back, skin on skin. wriggling his hips, jongin tries to get chen’s hand to move, hissing when chen’s cock slides between his cheeks, hot against the sensitive skin there.
“come on,” jongin grinds out, but chen only licks at his nape, dragging his teeth over jongin’s hairline.
“you have to say the magic word,” chen says playfully, nudging at jongin’s ear, and then lapping at its rim.
“what?”
“what do you say when you want a horsey to speed up, jongin?” he’s nibbling at jongin’s ear now, free hand pulling jongin’s asscheeks apart so his cock can move more freely, but his fingers are wrapped tight around jongin’s cock, keeping him from moving.
“um.” jongin licks at his dry lips, trying to keep his brain from melting into his spine. “giddyup?”
“tonight, i’m going to let you be the jockey.” jongin whimpers as chen finally slides his thumb up the shaft, along the vein on the underside, slowly and purposefully. “do you have lube?”
“drawer,” jongin says. “somewhere...”
“hold on for me a second, okay?” chen disappears from behind him, leaving jongin cold and shivering in the middle of the bed as chen rummages around in jongin’s drawers. jongin hopes there’s nothing super embarrassing in there, but what could be more embarrassing than lube? “are these beyblade trading cards?”
“can you just fuck me?” jongin buries his face deeper in his pillow, now noticing the way the waist of his jeans is digging into his skin, and the way his throbbing cock is leaving sticky precome on the bedspread beneath him.
“i would love to,” chen says. “but first we have to get you all stretched out.” he laughs. “you don’t just start with a hard run right out of the gate. you’ve got to warm up first.”
he’s behind jongin again, running his hands up and down to heat cool skin, and jongin swallows all the saliva that’s built up in his mouth. “so go ahead then,” jongin says. “warm me up.”
chen is probably smiling that stupid smug smile. it makes jongin harder just thinking about it. then there are cool, slick fingers sliding slowly down his crack. “relax, okay?”
“okay,” jongin says, and there’s pressure, chen’s index finger circling the ring of muscle slowly, pressing in but not enough. “just... can you--” then a single digit is slipping in, slow, and it burns but jongin pushes back on it impatiently.
chen stops him with a hand on the small of his back, steadying him and curving his finger inside a little. jongin’s toes curl. chen’s hands look good holding the reins of sehun’s bridle, fingers twisted into the leather, but jongin thinks he might like them better here, holding him open and slicking him up for chen’s cock.
“ready for another, cowboy?” chen asks, and jongin hisses through his teeth, pushing back against chen’s hand. “i’ll take that as a yes.”
he lets another finger sit against the rim for a moment in warning before starting to slowly slide it in alongside the other. this one stings more, but he gets used to it faster, too, as chen starts to separate the fingers, scissoring them apart even as he crooks them down on a quest for jongin’s sweet spot. “chen,” jongin says, “if you don’t hurry up--”
“let me know when i find it,” chen says, adding a third finger. he presses all three fingers down and jongin’s vision goes hazy as the pleasure spreads out in unsteady bursts at the push.
“fuck,” jongin says, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“aha!” chen says, victorious, and begins fucking jongin hard with his fingers, until jongin is swearing and yelling into his pillow, nothing but wobbly thighs and trembling knees keeping him from falling flat on the bed.
by the time he stops, jongin feels boneless, and chen moves him gently, so he has space to sit down against the headboard.
“okay,” chen says, holding jongin up by his waist. he guides jongin’s legs to either side of his hips, so that jongin is straddling him. their skin is sliding and catching because of the sweat between them, and chen’s hair is mussed from jongin’s hands. jongin wants to reach out and smooth it down, but he’s too busy holding himself steady with his palm pressed to chen’s chest.
a little shaky, jongin grabs the square package chen had left on the bedside table during his rummaging earlier, and tears it with his teeth. chen watches with hot eyes as jongin rolls the condom on, groping around the bed for the bottle of lube to slick chen up. hands still holding his waist, chen helps jongin rise up on his knees, and he grasps chen’s cock and sinks down onto it with a long, low moan.
“shit,” chen breathes harshly. “you’re-- “
“yeah.” jongin’s insides are shuddering, stretched by the girth of chen’s cock as he settles down onto him completely. “it’s so--” he tries to move, pressing his hands to chen’s chest for balance again, and lifting his hips.
chen grabs his waist, stilling him. “wait a minute,” he says, “until your body adjusts.”
“this isn’t my first time at the races,” jongin says.
“but it is your first time riding a race horse,” chen says, “so slow the fuck down.” he’s panting as he speaks, and jongin clenches around him in reprimand.
“you wanted me to ride you,” jongin says, “so let me.” jongin leans down, so that their noses almost touch, and up close, jongin can see the thin sheen of sweat on chen’s skin and feel the shallowness of his breath. “giddyup,” he whispers, and chen’s hips thrust up, hard, into jongin before jongin can even straighten back up.
jongin’s fingernails dig into chen’s chest to steady himself, and he claims chen’s mouth for a moment, licking the roof once before pulling himself back and upright.
fucking chen is actually nothing like riding a horse. chen is full of all these amazing noises and he’s surprisingly strong. he’s strong enough, at least, to lift jongin up and down with every thrust even when jongin has lost himself to the friction inside of him and the sweat and the heat everywhere they touch. he also murmurs to jongin, with every scratch up jongin’s back, how good jongin looks like this, which lets jongin relax into how good everything feels.
chen’s thrusts start to become erratic, and he reaches one hand for jongin’s cock and starts to jack him off, fast. jongin is close, anyway, the constant hits to his prostate keeping him perpetually on edge, and as chen’s thumb presses into the slit he finds himself tumbling over, his orgasm flooding his system, and whiting everything out as he comes over chen’s stomach and hand.
beneath him, chen is panting, one trembling hand on jongin’s thigh as they both catch their breath.
“you already...?” jongin manages to piece together, and chen nods.
“yeah. that was-- “ the arms jongin was using to brace himself against chen’s front buckle, sending him forward onto chen’s chest. chen smells like sweat and sex and, hay, and his soap from his shower after the race, and maybe, very faintly, of horse. jongin licks out for a taste with his tongue and finds he likes it.
“i can’t wait till we work up to the stable,” chen says, still sounding a little shell-shocked, and jongin laughs into chen’s neck. today has been a day of many victories. “maybe i’ll even ride your tiny pony.”
“i find that euphemism very upsetting,” jongin replies. “because i actually have a tiny horse and i don’t want her involved in my sex life. we’re going to have to set boundaries.”
chen’s whole body is shaking with laughter. jongin curls around him and relishes the fact that he can. “well, she’s not in the stables all the time,” chen says. “and chanyeol owes us one for the mental trauma of knowing he’s probably fucking sehun-the-man in his truck right now.”
“don’t bring that up, you’re ruining the moment.”
“i’m always ruining the moment. it’s what assholes do.”
“well, now you’re dating a nice guy,” jongin says. “i like moments.” his words catch up to him. “wait, i’m not being presumptuous, right? about the dating thing. because if you don’t--”
“well, i guess i could do worse than a guy who owns and runs a stable full of thoroughbred race horses,” chen says, and the thrill of that victory, in particular, runs up and down jongin’s spine.
he smiles smugly, snuggling into chen’s arms. “it’s only right that i should be dating a winning jockey.”
“damn straight,” chen says, and jongin thinks kim jongdae was the best risk he’d ever taken, on or off the track.
♘