Pajamas, 1/2
Pajamas 1/2; onkey, 2min, jongtaeho, 2126 words, nc-17
a/n: unbeta'd. comments much appreciated! I honestly don't know why this is called Pajamas... it has nothing to do with anything lol
Summary: Smut smut smut and a threesome
After a long day of dance and vocal practice and then a few hours in the game room of their building complex, Key was happy to finally be home and in the shower. He let the steaming water pour over his neck, shoulders, and back, felt the tension slip from his overworked muscles. Water saturated his hair, and the shampoo he rubbed into it released the most pleasing scent. The suds felt good on his hands, but he noticed with displeasure that his nail polish was already chipping. He’d have to do it again before he went to bed. He’d left the lights off, so just the street light was coming in through the small window in the shower from outside. Somehow it gave the bathroom a more intimate feeling, and the hot shower was more enjoyable for it.
But alas, his fifteen minutes was up, and Jonghyun was already knocking on the door for his turn. Key turned off the water, stepping carefully to the bathmat, toweled his hair quickly before wrapping it around his hips and sauntering to his room. He always secretly enjoyed the stare Jonghyun gave him, one that was clearly in appreciation of his body.
Key changed into his pajama sweats, printed with hello kitty, peeked in on Minho and Taemin getting ready for bed in their room, asked if they wanted tea before they went to sleep, and no, so he went to the kitchen and got water boiling. Onew was slouched at the table, forehead resting on his arms, his back bent such that Key could see a faint bump of his spine and the rise and compression of his breathing in and out. It seemed like he was asleep, but Onew sighed and asked if Key would make him a cup too. Key said of course, got another mug out of the cupboard, put the same non-caffeinated tea in.
“Something wrong? You look exhausted,” Key sympathetically mentioned. Onew shrugged and denied it.
“Just a long day.” The bags under his eyes and stress-crease on his brow told another story, though, and Key wouldn't let him go so easily, not this time.
“Come on, you can tell me. Even our charming leader has to unload his worries sometimes.”
“I don’t feel very charming,” said Onew with a wry smile. “Lately I just haven’t been able to take everything in stride.”
“You always do. This must have been building up for a while.” Key poured water into their mugs, let the tea bag bob, watched the flavor and color diffuse. He set Onew’s down in front of him, set his hands on his shoulders and started to give him a massage. “Tell me about it. In detail.”
“I guess I feel old, compared to you guys. Today when we were playing pool after practice, I felt so tired when everyone else had so much energy still. And then when the boys were fooling around with the balls, shooting them all over instead of just playing the game-you were just watching-it gave me a headache. I just can’t find the same things funny.”
“Mmh, I saw your face. You were shocked.” Key moved down Onew’s spine, gently pushing him forward to lean against the table so that he could reach all the way down his back. Onew moaned appreciatively.
“Ah, right there. I have a knot. Sometimes they are a little difficult to deal with, so I understand when manager complains, but I can’t let him be so demanding. They’re still young, they shouldn’t have to work hard and be adults all the time.”
“Thank you for that. If it wasn’t for you, we’d get scolded a lot more often.”
“And then these new dances-it’s like my body won’t learn them, but I have to if I’m going to lead our extra practices or actually be able to give helpful advice. That’s my duty, and lately I’ve not been a very good leader for you.” Onew squirmed under Key’s fingers. “A little harder would be good. Oh, yeah, that feels good, a little lower…” Key complied.
“You are a perfect leader, never doubt that.”
“This may seem stupid, but I wanted to see that movie and now it’s out of theatres, and I just don’t have the time. I’m disappointed.”
“Silly. But I understand.” Key wrapped his arms around Onew’s waits from behind and hugged him tight. They could hear Minho get out of the shower, Jonghyun shout goodnight. Soon the apartment was completely quiet. The circle of light which surrounded them gave a private, intimate feel. Key liked the warmth of Onew’s shoulder against his cheek.
“I think I have an idea, to help you de-stress, but I don’t know if you’ll be up for it. It sounds kind of shocking, but I really think it’ll help.”
“Mm?”
Key squeezed Onew around his waist again, whispering into his ear. Onew got red, a little flustered, but nodded. He trusted Key, no matter how extreme and inappropriate his idea might sound.
Meanwhile, Minho lay on the bottom bunk, snuggled under the covers, watching Taemin’s nightly routine. Taemin let his hair down, ruffled it, and took of each piece of his clothing off one by one. Shirt, jeans, boxers… Taemin’s skin was golden in the bedside lamplight, delicate shadows cast over his skin, flickering as he moved, making him seem iridescent. A golden boy. He hummed as he stripped, either unaware or indifferent to Minho’s watch. He bent over to get clean boxers out of the bottom drawer, showing off the length of his slim thighs and calves. The curve of his back was beautiful, the curve of his ass tight.
Minho shifted uncomfortably and curled up on himself. He didn’t need Taemin to know what the show of his body did-how it had given him goose bumps or made him semi-hard. Taemin finally chose a pair and stepped into them, one foot at a time. They were too loose, resting low on his hips and showing off his flat stomach and the v between his hip bones. Thankful for the dim light, Minho let his gaze travel over Taemin’s chest, his dark little nipples, and the trail of hair which just showed over the line of elastic. How his muscles moved and ass swayed. Minho didn’t like admitting it to himself, but it wasn’t only Taemin’s slim waist and wiry frame or his long hair which attracted him. It was his wide shoulders, his arms which had grown more defined over the years, the way his voice had gotten ever-so-slightly deeper. Taemin wasn’t the young boy Minho had met all those years ago anymore; he had grown even more gorgeous, yet much more masculine. He wasn’t adorable so much as graceful, lithe, and erotic in a way which he hadn’t been able to be in years past.
“You okay?” asked Taemin half-concernedly and half-curiously.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“It’s just you’re sighing a lot and your breathing is kinda heavy. You sound sick or something.” Minho laughed nervously.
“I’m really okay. Not sick at all.” Minho turned to his other side, to face the wall. He didn’t want his face giving his hard-on away.
He felt the bed sink behind him. Taemin had sat down, and leaned over him to tickle his sides. Minho twitched, both from the ticklish sensation and Taemin’s fingers on his bare skin. It was war; he didn’t know if he wanted to giggle or moan.
“Come on,” breathed Taemin in Minho’s ear, “tell me what’s bothering you. You know I’m not going to stop.” He redoubled his tickling efforts, causing Minho to thrash in attempt to escape. But Taemin hadn’t been lying; he wasn’t going to stop, he was going to make his hyung give in. Minho felt one wrist pinned down to the bed above his head. He hadn’t realized just how strong Taemin was, or that he could overpower him. It gave him a rush of adrenaline and lust, and he whined and tossed his head back, bucking his hips. Aiming at better leverage, Taemin threw a leg over Minho’s waist and pushed him on his back with one hand, continuing the tickle attack with the other. Minho bucked again, trying to get Taemin off-when Taemin suddenly became completely still. Heart pounding in his throat, Minho couldn’t tell why. Taemin’s eyes were hidden beneath shadow and fringe, his lips slightly open, cheeks pink with the effort of overpowering his hyung.
And then he ground down. Minho choked. He could distinctly feel his now full blown erection slide along the crevice of Taemin’s ass, his sweatpants and Taemin’s boxers the only barrier between them.
“Taemin,” Minho said, but it came out as a gasp. His knuckles hurt from grabbing the sheets so hard. He couldn’t move, couldn't think of anything else to say, couldn’t think of anything to do in that moment which would fix the situation, make it better.
“Minho,” gasped Taemin, and he ground down again, repeating the same motion. Supporting himself by grabbing both of Minho’s shoulders, he lifted his head and looked into Minho’s eyes, finding a similar mixture of want and need tempered by hesitancy. He repeated the name softly, grinding back and forth, working up a steady pace. Minho grabbed his waist, keeping him there, thrusting up in time. He let out a shuddering breath and let his hands roam over Taemin’s body in a way which only his eyes had been able to do. Taemin responded in kind, brushing his palm over Minho’s cheek and into his hair, grabbing and tugging, letting his other hand run up and down Minho’s thigh behind him, inside, creeping up towards his crotch. Minho jumps at the touch, sitting up and pulling Taemin to him, stretching up while Taemin bends down so their lips can brush without having to stop the agonizingly pleasurable momentum. Taemin tugs on Minho’s hair again, then slid his hand down to Minho’s throat, runs his thumb over an adams apple slick with sweat. He feels Minho gulp and the vibration of a sound stuck somewhere between whine and moan. He bent down to nip at the skin there, lick along his collar bone, and ended up pushing Minho onto his back once again.
Minho hooked his thumbs in the elastic of Taemin’s boxers and pulled them down as quickly and efficiently as he could, and Taemin maneuvered to help-his erection sprung free, smacking against his stomach, and Minho stroked it, letting go only long enough for Taemin to get his sweats and boxers off too. The air felt cold on his suddenly exposed skin, but Taemin covered him, wrapped his slender fingers around his erection and pumped in a way that made Minho’s head spin. He let Taemin bite his lips and kiss him, push his tongue inside his mouth, let Taemin suck his tongue so hard it hurt. Minho was taken by surprise when he felt his leg being lifted, knee to his shoulder.
“Hold it,” commanded Taemin, and Minho complied, holding his leg up, exposing this inside of his thighs and giving Taemin easy access. Taemin knelt down, nosed and kissed from the tip of Minho’s dick all the way down to the base and further. No one had touched Minho there before, and so the sensation of Taemin’s tongue, soft, warm and wet, between his ass cheeks jolted him into reality and made his body burn for what was to come. He never knew he’d have Taemin in exactly the way he’d wanted him for so long.
Taemin probed with his tongue in sharp jabs, spreading Minho open wide so that he could push inside. He ran his forefinger over Minho’s opening. It slid in easily after Taemin’s tongue. Minho couldn’t believe Taemin’s tongue and now his finger had been in him. He could feel it sliding in deeper, could feel how it crooked slightly, and then he was moaning open-mouthed, seeing stars. He wanted Taemin now, and must have moaned just how much, because Taemin leaned over him, kissed his lips reassuringly, and lined himself up, rubbing the tip over Minho’s opening and stoking them both a few times before pushing in. He could feel Minho stretch around him, take him in all the way. Taemin admired Minho for not going soft-it was hard to do, especially being so inexperienced. He pulled out until just his head was still inside, pushing back in slowly, stroking Minho in time, enjoying the eroticism of the sounds he made as they merged with the squelch of saliva and pre cum.
It didn’t stop either of them from missing the sound of the door opening and the gasp of alarm which followed.
Part 2
a/n: unbeta'd. comments much appreciated! I honestly don't know why this is called Pajamas... it has nothing to do with anything lol
Summary: Smut smut smut and a threesome
After a long day of dance and vocal practice and then a few hours in the game room of their building complex, Key was happy to finally be home and in the shower. He let the steaming water pour over his neck, shoulders, and back, felt the tension slip from his overworked muscles. Water saturated his hair, and the shampoo he rubbed into it released the most pleasing scent. The suds felt good on his hands, but he noticed with displeasure that his nail polish was already chipping. He’d have to do it again before he went to bed. He’d left the lights off, so just the street light was coming in through the small window in the shower from outside. Somehow it gave the bathroom a more intimate feeling, and the hot shower was more enjoyable for it.
But alas, his fifteen minutes was up, and Jonghyun was already knocking on the door for his turn. Key turned off the water, stepping carefully to the bathmat, toweled his hair quickly before wrapping it around his hips and sauntering to his room. He always secretly enjoyed the stare Jonghyun gave him, one that was clearly in appreciation of his body.
Key changed into his pajama sweats, printed with hello kitty, peeked in on Minho and Taemin getting ready for bed in their room, asked if they wanted tea before they went to sleep, and no, so he went to the kitchen and got water boiling. Onew was slouched at the table, forehead resting on his arms, his back bent such that Key could see a faint bump of his spine and the rise and compression of his breathing in and out. It seemed like he was asleep, but Onew sighed and asked if Key would make him a cup too. Key said of course, got another mug out of the cupboard, put the same non-caffeinated tea in.
“Something wrong? You look exhausted,” Key sympathetically mentioned. Onew shrugged and denied it.
“Just a long day.” The bags under his eyes and stress-crease on his brow told another story, though, and Key wouldn't let him go so easily, not this time.
“Come on, you can tell me. Even our charming leader has to unload his worries sometimes.”
“I don’t feel very charming,” said Onew with a wry smile. “Lately I just haven’t been able to take everything in stride.”
“You always do. This must have been building up for a while.” Key poured water into their mugs, let the tea bag bob, watched the flavor and color diffuse. He set Onew’s down in front of him, set his hands on his shoulders and started to give him a massage. “Tell me about it. In detail.”
“I guess I feel old, compared to you guys. Today when we were playing pool after practice, I felt so tired when everyone else had so much energy still. And then when the boys were fooling around with the balls, shooting them all over instead of just playing the game-you were just watching-it gave me a headache. I just can’t find the same things funny.”
“Mmh, I saw your face. You were shocked.” Key moved down Onew’s spine, gently pushing him forward to lean against the table so that he could reach all the way down his back. Onew moaned appreciatively.
“Ah, right there. I have a knot. Sometimes they are a little difficult to deal with, so I understand when manager complains, but I can’t let him be so demanding. They’re still young, they shouldn’t have to work hard and be adults all the time.”
“Thank you for that. If it wasn’t for you, we’d get scolded a lot more often.”
“And then these new dances-it’s like my body won’t learn them, but I have to if I’m going to lead our extra practices or actually be able to give helpful advice. That’s my duty, and lately I’ve not been a very good leader for you.” Onew squirmed under Key’s fingers. “A little harder would be good. Oh, yeah, that feels good, a little lower…” Key complied.
“You are a perfect leader, never doubt that.”
“This may seem stupid, but I wanted to see that movie and now it’s out of theatres, and I just don’t have the time. I’m disappointed.”
“Silly. But I understand.” Key wrapped his arms around Onew’s waits from behind and hugged him tight. They could hear Minho get out of the shower, Jonghyun shout goodnight. Soon the apartment was completely quiet. The circle of light which surrounded them gave a private, intimate feel. Key liked the warmth of Onew’s shoulder against his cheek.
“I think I have an idea, to help you de-stress, but I don’t know if you’ll be up for it. It sounds kind of shocking, but I really think it’ll help.”
“Mm?”
Key squeezed Onew around his waist again, whispering into his ear. Onew got red, a little flustered, but nodded. He trusted Key, no matter how extreme and inappropriate his idea might sound.
Meanwhile, Minho lay on the bottom bunk, snuggled under the covers, watching Taemin’s nightly routine. Taemin let his hair down, ruffled it, and took of each piece of his clothing off one by one. Shirt, jeans, boxers… Taemin’s skin was golden in the bedside lamplight, delicate shadows cast over his skin, flickering as he moved, making him seem iridescent. A golden boy. He hummed as he stripped, either unaware or indifferent to Minho’s watch. He bent over to get clean boxers out of the bottom drawer, showing off the length of his slim thighs and calves. The curve of his back was beautiful, the curve of his ass tight.
Minho shifted uncomfortably and curled up on himself. He didn’t need Taemin to know what the show of his body did-how it had given him goose bumps or made him semi-hard. Taemin finally chose a pair and stepped into them, one foot at a time. They were too loose, resting low on his hips and showing off his flat stomach and the v between his hip bones. Thankful for the dim light, Minho let his gaze travel over Taemin’s chest, his dark little nipples, and the trail of hair which just showed over the line of elastic. How his muscles moved and ass swayed. Minho didn’t like admitting it to himself, but it wasn’t only Taemin’s slim waist and wiry frame or his long hair which attracted him. It was his wide shoulders, his arms which had grown more defined over the years, the way his voice had gotten ever-so-slightly deeper. Taemin wasn’t the young boy Minho had met all those years ago anymore; he had grown even more gorgeous, yet much more masculine. He wasn’t adorable so much as graceful, lithe, and erotic in a way which he hadn’t been able to be in years past.
“You okay?” asked Taemin half-concernedly and half-curiously.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“It’s just you’re sighing a lot and your breathing is kinda heavy. You sound sick or something.” Minho laughed nervously.
“I’m really okay. Not sick at all.” Minho turned to his other side, to face the wall. He didn’t want his face giving his hard-on away.
He felt the bed sink behind him. Taemin had sat down, and leaned over him to tickle his sides. Minho twitched, both from the ticklish sensation and Taemin’s fingers on his bare skin. It was war; he didn’t know if he wanted to giggle or moan.
“Come on,” breathed Taemin in Minho’s ear, “tell me what’s bothering you. You know I’m not going to stop.” He redoubled his tickling efforts, causing Minho to thrash in attempt to escape. But Taemin hadn’t been lying; he wasn’t going to stop, he was going to make his hyung give in. Minho felt one wrist pinned down to the bed above his head. He hadn’t realized just how strong Taemin was, or that he could overpower him. It gave him a rush of adrenaline and lust, and he whined and tossed his head back, bucking his hips. Aiming at better leverage, Taemin threw a leg over Minho’s waist and pushed him on his back with one hand, continuing the tickle attack with the other. Minho bucked again, trying to get Taemin off-when Taemin suddenly became completely still. Heart pounding in his throat, Minho couldn’t tell why. Taemin’s eyes were hidden beneath shadow and fringe, his lips slightly open, cheeks pink with the effort of overpowering his hyung.
And then he ground down. Minho choked. He could distinctly feel his now full blown erection slide along the crevice of Taemin’s ass, his sweatpants and Taemin’s boxers the only barrier between them.
“Taemin,” Minho said, but it came out as a gasp. His knuckles hurt from grabbing the sheets so hard. He couldn’t move, couldn't think of anything else to say, couldn’t think of anything to do in that moment which would fix the situation, make it better.
“Minho,” gasped Taemin, and he ground down again, repeating the same motion. Supporting himself by grabbing both of Minho’s shoulders, he lifted his head and looked into Minho’s eyes, finding a similar mixture of want and need tempered by hesitancy. He repeated the name softly, grinding back and forth, working up a steady pace. Minho grabbed his waist, keeping him there, thrusting up in time. He let out a shuddering breath and let his hands roam over Taemin’s body in a way which only his eyes had been able to do. Taemin responded in kind, brushing his palm over Minho’s cheek and into his hair, grabbing and tugging, letting his other hand run up and down Minho’s thigh behind him, inside, creeping up towards his crotch. Minho jumps at the touch, sitting up and pulling Taemin to him, stretching up while Taemin bends down so their lips can brush without having to stop the agonizingly pleasurable momentum. Taemin tugs on Minho’s hair again, then slid his hand down to Minho’s throat, runs his thumb over an adams apple slick with sweat. He feels Minho gulp and the vibration of a sound stuck somewhere between whine and moan. He bent down to nip at the skin there, lick along his collar bone, and ended up pushing Minho onto his back once again.
Minho hooked his thumbs in the elastic of Taemin’s boxers and pulled them down as quickly and efficiently as he could, and Taemin maneuvered to help-his erection sprung free, smacking against his stomach, and Minho stroked it, letting go only long enough for Taemin to get his sweats and boxers off too. The air felt cold on his suddenly exposed skin, but Taemin covered him, wrapped his slender fingers around his erection and pumped in a way that made Minho’s head spin. He let Taemin bite his lips and kiss him, push his tongue inside his mouth, let Taemin suck his tongue so hard it hurt. Minho was taken by surprise when he felt his leg being lifted, knee to his shoulder.
“Hold it,” commanded Taemin, and Minho complied, holding his leg up, exposing this inside of his thighs and giving Taemin easy access. Taemin knelt down, nosed and kissed from the tip of Minho’s dick all the way down to the base and further. No one had touched Minho there before, and so the sensation of Taemin’s tongue, soft, warm and wet, between his ass cheeks jolted him into reality and made his body burn for what was to come. He never knew he’d have Taemin in exactly the way he’d wanted him for so long.
Taemin probed with his tongue in sharp jabs, spreading Minho open wide so that he could push inside. He ran his forefinger over Minho’s opening. It slid in easily after Taemin’s tongue. Minho couldn’t believe Taemin’s tongue and now his finger had been in him. He could feel it sliding in deeper, could feel how it crooked slightly, and then he was moaning open-mouthed, seeing stars. He wanted Taemin now, and must have moaned just how much, because Taemin leaned over him, kissed his lips reassuringly, and lined himself up, rubbing the tip over Minho’s opening and stoking them both a few times before pushing in. He could feel Minho stretch around him, take him in all the way. Taemin admired Minho for not going soft-it was hard to do, especially being so inexperienced. He pulled out until just his head was still inside, pushing back in slowly, stroking Minho in time, enjoying the eroticism of the sounds he made as they merged with the squelch of saliva and pre cum.
It didn’t stop either of them from missing the sound of the door opening and the gasp of alarm which followed.
Part 2