constant claims and drinking games (4/6) ; jongtae
title: constant claims and drinking games (4/6)
pairing: jongtae
rating: R (overall)
summary: the general consensus goes a little something like this: taemin needs a job. really quickly.
Taemin hasn’t slept for two nights.
Okay, that’s a lie. He has slept, just not very well, because his mind is playing some sick jokes on him, like right when he’s about to doze off, Jonghyun’s perfect chest decides to make an appearance in his mind, and how is he supposed to sleep with an erection digging into his stomach?
Taemin sighs as he peels open the refrigerator door and takes a water bottle from the shelf, twisting off the cap. To say things between him and Jonghyun are awkward, well that’s a joke, because Taemin can’t even bear to be in the same room as him anymore. Flashes of Jonghyun in conceding positions consume his thoughts so much so that he leaves; sometimes to his room, sometimes out of the house all together.
And it’s completely fucking him up. Taemin’s too busy being frustrated to notice that he blushes every time Jonghyun so much as looks in his general direction. And with frustration comes more, because he’s not even gay, it doesn’t account as fair in his head that he’s having these thoughts when he’s a decent, straight male.
Taemin moves to his bedroom. He’s got to get out of here, cool off a little, sort out his issues. After he’s filed through his closet for suitable clothing, he slips into the chosen outfit and ruffles his hair through his fingers in the mirror, groaning at his appearance. He scrunches the tips and sighs, whatever who is going to see him anyway, and sets off out of the house, Jonghyun’s mobile phone in his pocket.
Taemin shivers with memories as the supermarket’s door slides open and he ambles through them, then picks up a basket and starts perusing the aisles.
He gets half way through the candy aisle before Jonghyun’s obnoxious ringtone is clanging in his pocket and he’s almost positive he’s about to get arrested for disrupting the peace. Taemin balances the basket on his bent elbow and plucks the phone from his pocket.
“Hello?”
“Is Jonghyun there?”
“Oh, no sorry - ”
“Why the hell do you have my phone, Taemin?”
Taemin pauses, one hand on a cookie packet. “That didn’t even sound like you.”
Jonghyun sighs. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the supermarket.” Taemin shoves the packet his hand is lingering over into the basket and switches hands to hold the basket in his fist.
“I have things to do, Taemin. I need my phone.”
“But you said - ” Taemin retorts a bit too loudly and bows in apology to the old woman staring at him.
“Can you come home soon please?”
Taemin rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Fine,” is all he says before he hangs up.
Taemin unravels his apron from around his waist and chucks it onto the ruined bar with a satisfied grunt. He settles into a bar stool after he’s poured himself a tall glass of cola and swings his legs, the weight of them soothing his sore feet. Gwiboon’s next to him in an instant, smiling as she situates herself at the bar like she’s still working.
“Drink?”
Taemin looks at her, then down to his drink and back up. She’s still smiling, and Taemin arches a brow. “I’m good.”
“You look like you could use something with a little...more,” she says through a grin.
Taemin glances back down to his drink and it never occurred to him that you could see his dilemma in his eyes. Taemin sighs in defeat and plasters on a smile. “Go for it.”
Her pearly teeth glimmer as she focuses on the task at hand, produces them with two matching drinks in Hawaiian themed glasses from last night’s function.
She’s still smiling after Taemin finishes his drink and he gawks at her, seconds away from asking her why the hell she’s smiling like a lunatic on steroids when Jinki strolls over.
“Gwiboon, happy birthday!” he grins and tugs her into his arms and she complies easily enough, wrapping her arms around his neck with a twin grin.
“Thanks, oppa.”
Taemin’s brows rise in his forehead and he breaks into an open mouthed grin as he hops off his stool. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”
“You should already know!” Gwiboon untangles herself from Jinki and pokes him in the chest with her manicured finger with false rage.
Taemin awkwardly plans in his head how he’s going to go around it before plunging straight into the task at hand. He hugs her. “Happy birthday, noona.”
And feels absolutely nothing. Taemin’s face drops at the way her breasts press against his chest, her hips perfectly curved under his hands and he feels nothing, no tug of his gut, no flash of heat, no lust...nothing.
“Thanks, Taemin.”
And that is in no way okay, he should be feeling something, he’s a guy and Gwiboon is hot and why isn’t he feeling anything?
Taemin swallows down the cotton feeling in his mouth as he pulls away from the hug, figuring that maybe, maybe a hug is too PG for him and he needs a little something more, just like Gwiboon had just suggested.
“So - ”
Jonghyun interrupts, popping out from the office. “So, as you all must be aware,” Jonghyun shoots a wink at Gwiboon, “It’s my baby sister’s birthday,” he says and trails through Taemin’s coworkers to get to her. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says and kisses her cheek, then pulls her to his chest. “So I was thinking that we can get this cleaning done tomorrow, right?”
Hoots and whistles skitter across the room and Taemin scoffs at how Jonghyun can make so many people happy so easily. And then the bar lights flicker off and candles highlight Minho’s silhouette as he kicks the office door behind him. The room instantly breaks into the traditional birthday song, and Taemin can’t fight his smile at how happy Gwiboon looks as Minho brings the cake towards her.
Only the second Taemin’s eyes connect with Minho, his mood plummets and his jaw drops when Minho’s eye twitches, because surely he didn’t just wink like a knowing asshole.
Applause erupts and Jonghyun kisses Gwiboon’s temple. She blows out the candles and lets out gleeful laughter as Jonghyun and Minho squeeze her to their chests. Like a happy fucking family.
Only the problem is: where does Taemin belong?
By the third mysterious cocktail that Gwiboon has conjured up, Taemin decides that it truly is for the better good to let go of the dragging feeling in his gut and focus on the task at hand. That might be the alcohol talking, but Taemin feels as sober as ever as he saunters over to Gwiboon and takes residence by her side.
“Hey,” she smiles, her voice warm as she rubs his arm.
“Having a nice time?” Taemin slurs, cradling Gwiboon’s lower back as he leads her away from the crowd.
“It’s great! Oppa spoils me so much,” she dotes, “You all do.”
Taemin takes a step closer. “Did you get everything you wanted?”
Gwiboon licks her pouty lips, seemingly aware of what Taemin’s trying to achieve (and thank god for that because Taemin really doesn’t need hesitance). “Almost everything,” she says as she coils her arms around Taemin’s neck and rests her head on his shoulder. “Are you drunk?”
Taemin chuckles and pinches her hips in his hand. “A little. Are you?”
“Maybe,” she giggles, carding her fingers through his hair.
Taemin shivers, but nothing more. “What else is missing?”
Gwiboon buries her head in his neck, breathing against the skin. Goosebumps rise, but nothing else. “I’m really horny right now,” she giggles and Taemin can’t help but jerk his head back on reflex to her words, because fuck, Gwiboon really is a slut and this is going way easier than he planned.
“You are?”
Gwiboon clumsily presses her lips to the shell of his ear. “Yeah,” she breathes, “Do you wanna...”
Taemin looks up. Right in front of him, with Minho standing right at his side, Jonghyun stands, his arms crossed and eying Taemin and Gwiboon through his lashes. Minho laughs at something Jinki says, clapping him on the back, but Jonghyun pays no heed, his jaw sharp and stare intense.
“Yeah.”
He barely gets the one syllable out before Gwiboon is laughing, tearing away from his body to latch onto his wrist. She guides him down the hall, her fits of giggles echoing off the walls and slams him against the men’s toilet door roughly, guffawing when he goes crashing through the door.
Gwiboon drops the smile and pushes Taemin up against the sink countertop and immediately drops to her knees, sliding her fingers down his body on the descent. Taemin stares wide-eyed as her elegant fingers fumble with the button on his jeans, swallowing and fighting off a wince when she unzips him.
He’s not hard, he’s not going to get hard, and he really has no idea what is happening.
Before Gwiboon gets the chance to notice, though, Jonghyun comes tumbling through the door and halts instantly at the view of Gwiboon on her knees, Taemin’s shell-shocked face.
Jonghyun snorts, “Nice,” and steels his jaw, turns on his feet. “You’re an asshole,” Jonghyun throws over his shoulder before the toilet door slams behind him.
“Jonghyun, wait!” Taemin nudges Gwiboon off him and takes a step.
She pulls him back. “You’re just going to leave?!”
“Gwiboon! Fuck off!” He tugs his wrist from her arm and strides from the toilet, and he doesn’t even know why because this was his exact plan, this was why he allowed Gwiboon to drag him off in the first place! He planned this, but the look in Jonghyun’s eyes...For the first time, Taemin feels ashamed.
“Get away from me.” Jonghyun whips his coat off and onto the back of the couch, pulling off his shoes and slamming them onto the floor. Taemin doesn’t bother bringing up the shoe code at a time like this, instead quickly kicks off his own shoes and follows Jonghyun into the house.
“You don’t understand.”
“No you’re right, Taemin, I don’t understand, because where the hell did you get the idea that it would be okay to fuck my sister?!” Jonghyun shouts as he marches to his bedroom. His hands are shaking as he tries to unbutton his shirt and he loses patience quickly, ripping it from his body, a small button almost taking Taemin’s eye out in the process as he slinks into the room.
“I wasn’t going to fuc - ”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, you asshole, we both know what you were going to do.”
Taemin clenches his teeth together, inhaling a shuddered breath. “So. Let me get this straight. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, but I’m not?”
“No no Taemin, you can fuck whoever you want.” Jonghyun grits out, “You just can’t fuck my fucking sister.”
Fury bubbles under the surface and they tumble into a momentary silence, Taemin harsh breath deafening. Jonghyun’s demeanour is expectant; one hand on his cocked a bare hip. “I wasn’t. Going. To fuck her.”
Jonghyun tips his head back with laughter. “Really, Taemin? Because that’s what it looked like to me.”
There’s something in Jonghyun’s voice. The way it sounds so fucking condescending, the way he sounds actually humoured by Taemin’s protest. It has Taemin’s head reeling in rage and he takes a one, two, three steps forward, backing Jonghyun up to the wall. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Jonghyun.”
Jonghyun stares up at him, brows raised. “I do?”
“Yes, Jonghyun, you do, because you’re like a fucking child, and you’re pointing all the fingers at me, but have you forgotten that your sister is a complete slut and that I - ”
That’s as far as Taemin gets before there’s a searing pain in his jaw. He stumbles back, cupping his face, panting as he breathes through the pain. He shuffles his jaw, wincing as he turns to face Jonghyun, a violent crimson flashing behind his lids. His nails dig into his palms.
“You punched me.”
Jonghyun stares at him.
“You’ve never punched me before,” Taemin says through his gritted teeth.
“And you know why, Taemin? You know why I punched you?” Jonghyun pauses, inhales. “Because I am fucking done with you. I’ve had enough of your bullshit and I am so fucking done.”
Jonghyun turns and escapes from the room, but he only gets as far as the hallway before Taemin crashes into him, pressing his body against the wall.
“You’re done? YOU’RE DONE?” Taemin yells in Jonghyun’s face.
“YES TAEMIN I AM FUCKING DONE. I’VE HAD ENOUGH.”
Taemin’s jaw aches, his thighs are quaking, and he distantly wonders how they ended up like this, how it all led up to this as he stares down into Jonghyun’s eyes.
They stay like that for a moment; staring into each other eyes, pupils blown with the anger that boils. Jonghyun’s lips part as he pants and Taemin is completely silent, his breath held inside. He should be furious; the way Jonghyun’s looks almost smug. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing Taemin, just knows that there’s an on-going fire in Taemin’s mind and he’s adding the fuel.
Instead, he licks his lips.
“You want to fuck Minho? Fine. Jinki? Go for it!” Jonghyun yells, “But, you do not get to fuck my sister, Taemin, and you are a shitty fucking person for thinking that you could.” Jonghyun raises himself and their faces are so close that Jonghyun’s breath fans out over his face with every raucous breath.
Everything inside bursts free with a growl, every single thing that Taemin hates and loves, everything that’s built up over the time he’s known Jonghyun. He’s just about to yell that he’s not gay, over and over until he can believe it, that he doesn’t want Jonghyun, that he wants none of this.
Instead, Taemin jerks forward and smashes their lips together desperately; raw sentiment that had been pent up inside him for so long pours from his lips and Jonghyun gasps. Taemin takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, pitching his fingers through Jonghyun’s hair to press him closer.
Jonghyun fists the fabric of Taemin’s shirt and for a second, Taemin thinks he’s about to be pushed away; Jonghyun gone from his life for good, and fuck he definitely doesn’t want that, not when he’s finally blown. But contrary, Jonghyun only pulls him impossibly closer than they already are, writhes against the hold that Taemin has on him and mewls softly into Taemin’s mouth.
“What are we doing?” Jonghyun whispers as he tugs on Taemin’s shirt and knocks him against the opposite wall, leaving no room for replies when he instantly latches their lips together again and whimpers when Taemin’s hands palm his ass experimentally. Taemin practically devours Jonghyun with his passion, a moan caught in his throat when Jonghyun cups his quickly hardening cock, caught up in the sweet taste of Jonghyun’s pliant mouth.
Jonghyun hikes his leg up around Taemin’s waist after Taemin’s turned the tables, shoving Jonghyun into the wall. He grinds his hips against Taemin’s, sloppy kisses turning frantic, too much tongue, lips smacking together, and it still doesn’t sedate the throb in Taemin’s body. He’s moaning for more, hooking his fingers into Jonghyun’s jeans and peeling them from his skin. Jonghyun kicks out the fabric and then Taemin’s jeans follow. The sound of ripping pierces his hearing and Taemin looks down, the fabric of his shirt completely ruined, curling against the rip and off his body.
Taemin growls and presses their groins together, closing his mouth over Jonghyun’s, snagging Jonghyun’s lip between his teeth and tugs. He rolls his hips upwards, rubbing their clothed erections together, panting into Jonghyun’s mouth when the latter juts his hips.
“Fuck, Jonghyun,” Taemin murmurs against his lips and Jonghyun whines in response, seeking out Taemin’s hands on his waist and he leads them into his boxers. The skin feels firm in Taemin’s palms and he almost chokes on his breath as he spreads the cheeks, sliding a finger across Jonghyun’s entrance.
Jonghyun’s reaction is instantaneous, arching his back to the touch, keening as Taemin applies pressure to his hole, not breaching the muscle just yet. Jonghyun angles his hips back and Taemin watches with hooded lids at the way he’s trying so desperately to get his finger.
“Taemin,” Jonghyun whimpers, “Come on.”
The needy tone of his voice clouds Taemin’s mind, so similar to what he once heard but goes directly to his cock, because this time it’s directed at him. Jonghyun wants him.
Taemin grunts, hooking his thumbs into the fabric from the inside and tugs them down enough so that gravity takes care of the rest. The sight of Jonghyun’s cock bobbing against his stomach upon release tosses Taemin astray, but Jonghyun pulls him in for a bruising kiss, his nails clawing down Taemin’s back. Suddenly his lips turn sloppy, wandering down to Jonghyun’s clavicle, nipping at the skin in the junction of his shoulder.
Taemin kisses his neck, sucking the tender skin into his mouth and tasting his cologne. Jonghyun flings his head back, massaging Taemin’s cock through his boxers and Taemin groans as Jonghyun slides them off his hips and shuffles out of them.
A feral groan emits as Jonghyun nips his jawline and Taemin flips him around, pressing his cheek to the wall, pulling his hips back. He kicks Jonghyun’s legs apart and his fingers circle Jonghyun’s entrance.
Taemin’s not really too sure how this is supposed to work. Millions of questions splatter off the walls of his skull and he settles for instinct, gripping Jonghyun’s nape as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, collecting saliva and lapping at them until he deems fit. Jonghyun shuffles and arches his back when Taemin applies the saliva around Jonghyun’s hole. Taemin glides a finger inside, the heat inside eliciting a twitch from his hard cock.
“I’m not going to break,” Jonghyun moans, pushing back against Taemin’s fingers, protesting against the speed he’s taken.
Taemin chuckles and roughly pumps his finger in and out, and he knows Jonghyun’s not going to break. Fuck, he’s seen it in the flesh how hard he can take it. Taemin shoves in another finger, crooking them and scissoring them apart, moans when Jonghyun moans, pants when Jonghyun pants.
“Are you ready?” Taemin breathes, blanketing Jonghyun’s back with his chest to mouth at the skin between his shoulder blades.
“Fuck me,” Jonghyun moans, such a lewd command that Taemin retrieves his fingers to spit in his hand and slick up his cock.
Taemin pushes inside, gasping at how tight Jonghyun is, better than Gwiboon would ever be, and shallowly thrusts his hips until he’s fully seated inside. He doesn’t pause, starts up a small pace, his fingernails digging into Jonghyun’s hips as he thrusts.
“You feel so good around me,” Taemin moans, bringing his hips back and slamming back inside. Jonghyun jerks forward on the wall, the pleasure almost agony, his splayed hands clutching the wall. He accidently knocks the picture frame and it crashes to the floor.
Neither care.
“Jonghyun,” Taemin says as he withdraws and buries himself deeper. Taemin jerks forward on Jonghyun’s body, one hand still on his hips, the other sliding up to pin Jonghyun’s hand to the wall, curling his fingers slightly in between the gaps.
Taemin’s heart pounds in his ears, propelling them closer to climax and Jonghyun cries out when he thrusts in deep, his balls slapping against Jonghyun’s perineum.
“Oh my god.” Taemin sucks air into his lungs and leans back, pausing to spread Jonghyun’s ass cheeks apart, slapping the flesh lightly.
“Taemin,” Jonghyun groans when Taemin starts up his tempo again, his cock stroking deep, deep inside of him with each stab of his hips. Taemin feels dizzy, body hot and thighs trembling, his features tense and he urges Jonghyun’s legs further apart, increasing the sensation, completely focused on the smooth slide of his cock inside of Jonghyun’s body.
Jonghyun, folding his arm under his face, looks back at Taemin and mutters a “yes”, followed by a long, drawn out moan as he clumsily jerks his cock in tandem with Taemin’s thrusts.
“Are you going to cum for me?” Taemin chews his lip with concentration, and Jonghyun nods, like the sound of Taemin’s voice triggers his orgasm. His body tenses as he spurts over the wall, the power of it squeezing around Taemin’s cock while he plunges deeper, faster, until a final anguished moan rolls off his tongue and he’s releasing inside, driving inside one last time then stills.
Taemin collapses onto Jonghyun. In the afterglow, the only sound is the catching of breath, a distant thump of music from downstairs. Their bodies are glued together, heaving, and a bead of sweat slides down Taemin’s temple.
“Whoa,” he breathes. Gripping the base of his cock, Taemin slightly winces as he pulls out and makes a face as his own cum dotting his fingers. “That was…”
Jonghyun straightens on his shaking legs and turns to face Taemin. “Pretty amazing. But, you’re still an asshole.”
Taemin shuts him up by kissing him.
next
pairing: jongtae
rating: R (overall)
summary: the general consensus goes a little something like this: taemin needs a job. really quickly.
Taemin hasn’t slept for two nights.
Okay, that’s a lie. He has slept, just not very well, because his mind is playing some sick jokes on him, like right when he’s about to doze off, Jonghyun’s perfect chest decides to make an appearance in his mind, and how is he supposed to sleep with an erection digging into his stomach?
Taemin sighs as he peels open the refrigerator door and takes a water bottle from the shelf, twisting off the cap. To say things between him and Jonghyun are awkward, well that’s a joke, because Taemin can’t even bear to be in the same room as him anymore. Flashes of Jonghyun in conceding positions consume his thoughts so much so that he leaves; sometimes to his room, sometimes out of the house all together.
And it’s completely fucking him up. Taemin’s too busy being frustrated to notice that he blushes every time Jonghyun so much as looks in his general direction. And with frustration comes more, because he’s not even gay, it doesn’t account as fair in his head that he’s having these thoughts when he’s a decent, straight male.
Taemin moves to his bedroom. He’s got to get out of here, cool off a little, sort out his issues. After he’s filed through his closet for suitable clothing, he slips into the chosen outfit and ruffles his hair through his fingers in the mirror, groaning at his appearance. He scrunches the tips and sighs, whatever who is going to see him anyway, and sets off out of the house, Jonghyun’s mobile phone in his pocket.
Taemin shivers with memories as the supermarket’s door slides open and he ambles through them, then picks up a basket and starts perusing the aisles.
He gets half way through the candy aisle before Jonghyun’s obnoxious ringtone is clanging in his pocket and he’s almost positive he’s about to get arrested for disrupting the peace. Taemin balances the basket on his bent elbow and plucks the phone from his pocket.
“Hello?”
“Is Jonghyun there?”
“Oh, no sorry - ”
“Why the hell do you have my phone, Taemin?”
Taemin pauses, one hand on a cookie packet. “That didn’t even sound like you.”
Jonghyun sighs. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the supermarket.” Taemin shoves the packet his hand is lingering over into the basket and switches hands to hold the basket in his fist.
“I have things to do, Taemin. I need my phone.”
“But you said - ” Taemin retorts a bit too loudly and bows in apology to the old woman staring at him.
“Can you come home soon please?”
Taemin rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Fine,” is all he says before he hangs up.
Taemin unravels his apron from around his waist and chucks it onto the ruined bar with a satisfied grunt. He settles into a bar stool after he’s poured himself a tall glass of cola and swings his legs, the weight of them soothing his sore feet. Gwiboon’s next to him in an instant, smiling as she situates herself at the bar like she’s still working.
“Drink?”
Taemin looks at her, then down to his drink and back up. She’s still smiling, and Taemin arches a brow. “I’m good.”
“You look like you could use something with a little...more,” she says through a grin.
Taemin glances back down to his drink and it never occurred to him that you could see his dilemma in his eyes. Taemin sighs in defeat and plasters on a smile. “Go for it.”
Her pearly teeth glimmer as she focuses on the task at hand, produces them with two matching drinks in Hawaiian themed glasses from last night’s function.
She’s still smiling after Taemin finishes his drink and he gawks at her, seconds away from asking her why the hell she’s smiling like a lunatic on steroids when Jinki strolls over.
“Gwiboon, happy birthday!” he grins and tugs her into his arms and she complies easily enough, wrapping her arms around his neck with a twin grin.
“Thanks, oppa.”
Taemin’s brows rise in his forehead and he breaks into an open mouthed grin as he hops off his stool. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”
“You should already know!” Gwiboon untangles herself from Jinki and pokes him in the chest with her manicured finger with false rage.
Taemin awkwardly plans in his head how he’s going to go around it before plunging straight into the task at hand. He hugs her. “Happy birthday, noona.”
And feels absolutely nothing. Taemin’s face drops at the way her breasts press against his chest, her hips perfectly curved under his hands and he feels nothing, no tug of his gut, no flash of heat, no lust...nothing.
“Thanks, Taemin.”
And that is in no way okay, he should be feeling something, he’s a guy and Gwiboon is hot and why isn’t he feeling anything?
Taemin swallows down the cotton feeling in his mouth as he pulls away from the hug, figuring that maybe, maybe a hug is too PG for him and he needs a little something more, just like Gwiboon had just suggested.
“So - ”
Jonghyun interrupts, popping out from the office. “So, as you all must be aware,” Jonghyun shoots a wink at Gwiboon, “It’s my baby sister’s birthday,” he says and trails through Taemin’s coworkers to get to her. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says and kisses her cheek, then pulls her to his chest. “So I was thinking that we can get this cleaning done tomorrow, right?”
Hoots and whistles skitter across the room and Taemin scoffs at how Jonghyun can make so many people happy so easily. And then the bar lights flicker off and candles highlight Minho’s silhouette as he kicks the office door behind him. The room instantly breaks into the traditional birthday song, and Taemin can’t fight his smile at how happy Gwiboon looks as Minho brings the cake towards her.
Only the second Taemin’s eyes connect with Minho, his mood plummets and his jaw drops when Minho’s eye twitches, because surely he didn’t just wink like a knowing asshole.
Applause erupts and Jonghyun kisses Gwiboon’s temple. She blows out the candles and lets out gleeful laughter as Jonghyun and Minho squeeze her to their chests. Like a happy fucking family.
Only the problem is: where does Taemin belong?
By the third mysterious cocktail that Gwiboon has conjured up, Taemin decides that it truly is for the better good to let go of the dragging feeling in his gut and focus on the task at hand. That might be the alcohol talking, but Taemin feels as sober as ever as he saunters over to Gwiboon and takes residence by her side.
“Hey,” she smiles, her voice warm as she rubs his arm.
“Having a nice time?” Taemin slurs, cradling Gwiboon’s lower back as he leads her away from the crowd.
“It’s great! Oppa spoils me so much,” she dotes, “You all do.”
Taemin takes a step closer. “Did you get everything you wanted?”
Gwiboon licks her pouty lips, seemingly aware of what Taemin’s trying to achieve (and thank god for that because Taemin really doesn’t need hesitance). “Almost everything,” she says as she coils her arms around Taemin’s neck and rests her head on his shoulder. “Are you drunk?”
Taemin chuckles and pinches her hips in his hand. “A little. Are you?”
“Maybe,” she giggles, carding her fingers through his hair.
Taemin shivers, but nothing more. “What else is missing?”
Gwiboon buries her head in his neck, breathing against the skin. Goosebumps rise, but nothing else. “I’m really horny right now,” she giggles and Taemin can’t help but jerk his head back on reflex to her words, because fuck, Gwiboon really is a slut and this is going way easier than he planned.
“You are?”
Gwiboon clumsily presses her lips to the shell of his ear. “Yeah,” she breathes, “Do you wanna...”
Taemin looks up. Right in front of him, with Minho standing right at his side, Jonghyun stands, his arms crossed and eying Taemin and Gwiboon through his lashes. Minho laughs at something Jinki says, clapping him on the back, but Jonghyun pays no heed, his jaw sharp and stare intense.
“Yeah.”
He barely gets the one syllable out before Gwiboon is laughing, tearing away from his body to latch onto his wrist. She guides him down the hall, her fits of giggles echoing off the walls and slams him against the men’s toilet door roughly, guffawing when he goes crashing through the door.
Gwiboon drops the smile and pushes Taemin up against the sink countertop and immediately drops to her knees, sliding her fingers down his body on the descent. Taemin stares wide-eyed as her elegant fingers fumble with the button on his jeans, swallowing and fighting off a wince when she unzips him.
He’s not hard, he’s not going to get hard, and he really has no idea what is happening.
Before Gwiboon gets the chance to notice, though, Jonghyun comes tumbling through the door and halts instantly at the view of Gwiboon on her knees, Taemin’s shell-shocked face.
Jonghyun snorts, “Nice,” and steels his jaw, turns on his feet. “You’re an asshole,” Jonghyun throws over his shoulder before the toilet door slams behind him.
“Jonghyun, wait!” Taemin nudges Gwiboon off him and takes a step.
She pulls him back. “You’re just going to leave?!”
“Gwiboon! Fuck off!” He tugs his wrist from her arm and strides from the toilet, and he doesn’t even know why because this was his exact plan, this was why he allowed Gwiboon to drag him off in the first place! He planned this, but the look in Jonghyun’s eyes...For the first time, Taemin feels ashamed.
“Get away from me.” Jonghyun whips his coat off and onto the back of the couch, pulling off his shoes and slamming them onto the floor. Taemin doesn’t bother bringing up the shoe code at a time like this, instead quickly kicks off his own shoes and follows Jonghyun into the house.
“You don’t understand.”
“No you’re right, Taemin, I don’t understand, because where the hell did you get the idea that it would be okay to fuck my sister?!” Jonghyun shouts as he marches to his bedroom. His hands are shaking as he tries to unbutton his shirt and he loses patience quickly, ripping it from his body, a small button almost taking Taemin’s eye out in the process as he slinks into the room.
“I wasn’t going to fuc - ”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, you asshole, we both know what you were going to do.”
Taemin clenches his teeth together, inhaling a shuddered breath. “So. Let me get this straight. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, but I’m not?”
“No no Taemin, you can fuck whoever you want.” Jonghyun grits out, “You just can’t fuck my fucking sister.”
Fury bubbles under the surface and they tumble into a momentary silence, Taemin harsh breath deafening. Jonghyun’s demeanour is expectant; one hand on his cocked a bare hip. “I wasn’t. Going. To fuck her.”
Jonghyun tips his head back with laughter. “Really, Taemin? Because that’s what it looked like to me.”
There’s something in Jonghyun’s voice. The way it sounds so fucking condescending, the way he sounds actually humoured by Taemin’s protest. It has Taemin’s head reeling in rage and he takes a one, two, three steps forward, backing Jonghyun up to the wall. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Jonghyun.”
Jonghyun stares up at him, brows raised. “I do?”
“Yes, Jonghyun, you do, because you’re like a fucking child, and you’re pointing all the fingers at me, but have you forgotten that your sister is a complete slut and that I - ”
That’s as far as Taemin gets before there’s a searing pain in his jaw. He stumbles back, cupping his face, panting as he breathes through the pain. He shuffles his jaw, wincing as he turns to face Jonghyun, a violent crimson flashing behind his lids. His nails dig into his palms.
“You punched me.”
Jonghyun stares at him.
“You’ve never punched me before,” Taemin says through his gritted teeth.
“And you know why, Taemin? You know why I punched you?” Jonghyun pauses, inhales. “Because I am fucking done with you. I’ve had enough of your bullshit and I am so fucking done.”
Jonghyun turns and escapes from the room, but he only gets as far as the hallway before Taemin crashes into him, pressing his body against the wall.
“You’re done? YOU’RE DONE?” Taemin yells in Jonghyun’s face.
“YES TAEMIN I AM FUCKING DONE. I’VE HAD ENOUGH.”
Taemin’s jaw aches, his thighs are quaking, and he distantly wonders how they ended up like this, how it all led up to this as he stares down into Jonghyun’s eyes.
They stay like that for a moment; staring into each other eyes, pupils blown with the anger that boils. Jonghyun’s lips part as he pants and Taemin is completely silent, his breath held inside. He should be furious; the way Jonghyun’s looks almost smug. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing Taemin, just knows that there’s an on-going fire in Taemin’s mind and he’s adding the fuel.
Instead, he licks his lips.
“You want to fuck Minho? Fine. Jinki? Go for it!” Jonghyun yells, “But, you do not get to fuck my sister, Taemin, and you are a shitty fucking person for thinking that you could.” Jonghyun raises himself and their faces are so close that Jonghyun’s breath fans out over his face with every raucous breath.
Everything inside bursts free with a growl, every single thing that Taemin hates and loves, everything that’s built up over the time he’s known Jonghyun. He’s just about to yell that he’s not gay, over and over until he can believe it, that he doesn’t want Jonghyun, that he wants none of this.
Instead, Taemin jerks forward and smashes their lips together desperately; raw sentiment that had been pent up inside him for so long pours from his lips and Jonghyun gasps. Taemin takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, pitching his fingers through Jonghyun’s hair to press him closer.
Jonghyun fists the fabric of Taemin’s shirt and for a second, Taemin thinks he’s about to be pushed away; Jonghyun gone from his life for good, and fuck he definitely doesn’t want that, not when he’s finally blown. But contrary, Jonghyun only pulls him impossibly closer than they already are, writhes against the hold that Taemin has on him and mewls softly into Taemin’s mouth.
“What are we doing?” Jonghyun whispers as he tugs on Taemin’s shirt and knocks him against the opposite wall, leaving no room for replies when he instantly latches their lips together again and whimpers when Taemin’s hands palm his ass experimentally. Taemin practically devours Jonghyun with his passion, a moan caught in his throat when Jonghyun cups his quickly hardening cock, caught up in the sweet taste of Jonghyun’s pliant mouth.
Jonghyun hikes his leg up around Taemin’s waist after Taemin’s turned the tables, shoving Jonghyun into the wall. He grinds his hips against Taemin’s, sloppy kisses turning frantic, too much tongue, lips smacking together, and it still doesn’t sedate the throb in Taemin’s body. He’s moaning for more, hooking his fingers into Jonghyun’s jeans and peeling them from his skin. Jonghyun kicks out the fabric and then Taemin’s jeans follow. The sound of ripping pierces his hearing and Taemin looks down, the fabric of his shirt completely ruined, curling against the rip and off his body.
Taemin growls and presses their groins together, closing his mouth over Jonghyun’s, snagging Jonghyun’s lip between his teeth and tugs. He rolls his hips upwards, rubbing their clothed erections together, panting into Jonghyun’s mouth when the latter juts his hips.
“Fuck, Jonghyun,” Taemin murmurs against his lips and Jonghyun whines in response, seeking out Taemin’s hands on his waist and he leads them into his boxers. The skin feels firm in Taemin’s palms and he almost chokes on his breath as he spreads the cheeks, sliding a finger across Jonghyun’s entrance.
Jonghyun’s reaction is instantaneous, arching his back to the touch, keening as Taemin applies pressure to his hole, not breaching the muscle just yet. Jonghyun angles his hips back and Taemin watches with hooded lids at the way he’s trying so desperately to get his finger.
“Taemin,” Jonghyun whimpers, “Come on.”
The needy tone of his voice clouds Taemin’s mind, so similar to what he once heard but goes directly to his cock, because this time it’s directed at him. Jonghyun wants him.
Taemin grunts, hooking his thumbs into the fabric from the inside and tugs them down enough so that gravity takes care of the rest. The sight of Jonghyun’s cock bobbing against his stomach upon release tosses Taemin astray, but Jonghyun pulls him in for a bruising kiss, his nails clawing down Taemin’s back. Suddenly his lips turn sloppy, wandering down to Jonghyun’s clavicle, nipping at the skin in the junction of his shoulder.
Taemin kisses his neck, sucking the tender skin into his mouth and tasting his cologne. Jonghyun flings his head back, massaging Taemin’s cock through his boxers and Taemin groans as Jonghyun slides them off his hips and shuffles out of them.
A feral groan emits as Jonghyun nips his jawline and Taemin flips him around, pressing his cheek to the wall, pulling his hips back. He kicks Jonghyun’s legs apart and his fingers circle Jonghyun’s entrance.
Taemin’s not really too sure how this is supposed to work. Millions of questions splatter off the walls of his skull and he settles for instinct, gripping Jonghyun’s nape as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, collecting saliva and lapping at them until he deems fit. Jonghyun shuffles and arches his back when Taemin applies the saliva around Jonghyun’s hole. Taemin glides a finger inside, the heat inside eliciting a twitch from his hard cock.
“I’m not going to break,” Jonghyun moans, pushing back against Taemin’s fingers, protesting against the speed he’s taken.
Taemin chuckles and roughly pumps his finger in and out, and he knows Jonghyun’s not going to break. Fuck, he’s seen it in the flesh how hard he can take it. Taemin shoves in another finger, crooking them and scissoring them apart, moans when Jonghyun moans, pants when Jonghyun pants.
“Are you ready?” Taemin breathes, blanketing Jonghyun’s back with his chest to mouth at the skin between his shoulder blades.
“Fuck me,” Jonghyun moans, such a lewd command that Taemin retrieves his fingers to spit in his hand and slick up his cock.
Taemin pushes inside, gasping at how tight Jonghyun is, better than Gwiboon would ever be, and shallowly thrusts his hips until he’s fully seated inside. He doesn’t pause, starts up a small pace, his fingernails digging into Jonghyun’s hips as he thrusts.
“You feel so good around me,” Taemin moans, bringing his hips back and slamming back inside. Jonghyun jerks forward on the wall, the pleasure almost agony, his splayed hands clutching the wall. He accidently knocks the picture frame and it crashes to the floor.
Neither care.
“Jonghyun,” Taemin says as he withdraws and buries himself deeper. Taemin jerks forward on Jonghyun’s body, one hand still on his hips, the other sliding up to pin Jonghyun’s hand to the wall, curling his fingers slightly in between the gaps.
Taemin’s heart pounds in his ears, propelling them closer to climax and Jonghyun cries out when he thrusts in deep, his balls slapping against Jonghyun’s perineum.
“Oh my god.” Taemin sucks air into his lungs and leans back, pausing to spread Jonghyun’s ass cheeks apart, slapping the flesh lightly.
“Taemin,” Jonghyun groans when Taemin starts up his tempo again, his cock stroking deep, deep inside of him with each stab of his hips. Taemin feels dizzy, body hot and thighs trembling, his features tense and he urges Jonghyun’s legs further apart, increasing the sensation, completely focused on the smooth slide of his cock inside of Jonghyun’s body.
Jonghyun, folding his arm under his face, looks back at Taemin and mutters a “yes”, followed by a long, drawn out moan as he clumsily jerks his cock in tandem with Taemin’s thrusts.
“Are you going to cum for me?” Taemin chews his lip with concentration, and Jonghyun nods, like the sound of Taemin’s voice triggers his orgasm. His body tenses as he spurts over the wall, the power of it squeezing around Taemin’s cock while he plunges deeper, faster, until a final anguished moan rolls off his tongue and he’s releasing inside, driving inside one last time then stills.
Taemin collapses onto Jonghyun. In the afterglow, the only sound is the catching of breath, a distant thump of music from downstairs. Their bodies are glued together, heaving, and a bead of sweat slides down Taemin’s temple.
“Whoa,” he breathes. Gripping the base of his cock, Taemin slightly winces as he pulls out and makes a face as his own cum dotting his fingers. “That was…”
Jonghyun straightens on his shaking legs and turns to face Taemin. “Pretty amazing. But, you’re still an asshole.”
Taemin shuts him up by kissing him.
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