Strictly Unprofessional
Xiumin/Chen NC-17 ~3700
Minseok and Jongdae own a Cafe together. During the day business is business, but it's what happens after closing time that no one needs to know.
A/N: Adopted prompt from Chenpionships for seafogs
As soon as the door to the cafe is swung shut, the lights are dimmed, and the open sign has been flipped closed, Jongdae finds himself being pushed down into the couch he’s currently lounging in, a pair of lips catching his. He eases himself into the kiss easily; mouths locked together in a way that is practiced, familiar, eyelids fluttering shut. He feels hands fist themselves into his shirt, as the other breaks away from him, staring down at him, eyes dark, tinged with lust. Jongdae looks up at his best friend, business partner, and lover. He grins, tongue flicking out to lick his lips in anticipation.
“In a hurry today are we Minseok Hyung?” He asks, voice taunting, gazing up at the dark haired man hovering over him. Reaching up, he trails his fingers along the older man’s collar
“Are you sure you don’t want to clean up the machines first?” Jongdae teases, absentmindedly stroking Minseok’s jaw.
“You’re right.” Minseok sighs, boyish voice quiet in the already silent room. “I should probably get on that.”
Pushing himself off Jongdae, Minseok walks off towards the counter without another word, leaving Jongdae laying on the couch, disappointed and pouting.
Minseok and Jongdae had met back in High School, bonding over their mutual love for Chinese pop music, and bad winter sweaters. They’d stayed friends all throughout their school careers, and one day, noticing Minseok struggling with his dream of opening a Café, Jongdae had offered to co-own. He had a major in Business and Minseok had a major in accounting, and they had agreed to each other quite quickly, and thus The Pillow Pit was born. Jongdae had struggled a lot at first, not being a coffee drinker himself, spending his first while as a barista fumbling with the machines and messing up orders, but Minseok was a patient man. They grew together, along with the café, and became even closer. So close, that one day Jongdae had simply reached over, gripped the back of Minseok’s neck and kissed him. Minseok had simply looked at him, nodded and said, “Okay.”
What they do during the day is strictly professional. The café is run perfectly, the customers and staff are happy, and their following is loyal. The place is kept completely spotless, much to Minseok’s slight OCD and Jongdae’s love for doing the chores to keep from having to make drinks. What they do once the café closes however, is strictly their business, and so, so unprofessional.
Jongdae is content with watching Minseok clean, enjoying the warmth of the couch, a singular beam of sunlight peeking through the closed curtains. He also enjoys being a huge pervert too. One of the perks of working with Minseok is watching his cute behind wiggle around as he bends over to put supplies away, marveling at his arms as he carries things, and reveling in the little bit of toned skin that’s exposed when he reaches up to the higher shelves, height causing him to stretch.
Jongdae grows impatient watching Minseok clean, knowing what’s to come afterwards, exciting himself at the thought of unhurried touches, languid kisses, and whispered words. Clean up is long however, and Jongdae finds himself drifting off into a light sleep, using his thick black scarf as a pillow, cozy, like a dog beside a fireplace. Minseok chances a glance over and can’t stop the warm look of fondness that passes over his face, the corners of his lips curving up at how utterly adorable Jongdae is, looking cuddly and inviting.
Minseok telling Jongdae he's finished comes in the form of a soft weight pressing down on his back, plush lips coming in contact with the back of his neck, gentle and loving. Jongdae pushes himself up from his position, sprawled out on his stomach, having face planted into his wooly scarf and leans back into Minseok’s touch, baring his neck to give Minseok better access. Jongdae feels hands pushing into his shoulder blades, massaging and warm, as Minseok attends to his neck, dragging teeth lightly across his jaw, licking and biting softly, just enough to make his mind fuzzy.
Jongdae is perfectly happy just laying there, letting Minseok knead palms into his shoulders, letting him nibble the sensitive spot right below his ear. They have all the time in the world, he thinks, sighing and resting his head down on the pillowy garment, drowsy, and content.
Minseok though, has other plans, and he grips onto Jongdae’s shoulders, turning him over, so that they’re face to face.
“Don’t get too comfortable darling”, Minseok says, feline eyes sparkling, a knowing smirk forming on his face, tenderly tracing a single finger down Jongdae’s cheek. Minseok likes to take things slow, teasing, playful, his movements gradual, and smooth. Jongdae likes to take things quickly, with hurried, intense movements, rapid and needing. He doesn’t like to admit that he enjoys the way Minseok does things, enjoys being taken apart piece by piece, obscene words panted into his ear, enjoys the feel of rough fingers, pleasant and measured, casually bringing him to feel so deeply that his thoughts vanish, and time stops.
Minseok pulls Jongdae into a sitting position, straddling him, pinning him into place, planting closed mouth kisses here and there, eyes dark, but always bright. Minseok teases, he’s always teasing, kissing everywhere but Jongdae’s mouth, until Jongdae gets impatient finding the back of Minseok’s neck, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss that catches Minseok off guard, a quiet gasp escaping the other man. Jongdae’s hands move to hair, caressing and smoothing, and just needing to touch, to feel. Jongdae smirks into the kiss, feeling victorious, tongue flicking out to coax Minseok’s mouth open, eager to explore, to taste.
But Minseok has other plans and takes his chance, attacking Jongdae’s over eager tongue, taking control, his own sliding behind teeth, pressing against the roof of Jongdae’s mouth, curious hands making their way under his sweater, delicately splaying across his abdomen, still teasing. Tongues getting more desperate, hands that were delicate are pressing into skin, hard enough to leave skin bruised. Jongdae whines, his pants feeling tighter, his skin on fire. He feels so deliciously hot, head filled with thoughts of Minseok inside him, dominating, opening him up. Minseok pulls back to nibble on Jongdae’s bottom lip, beaming at him, his entire face seeming to emit love, innocence, and laughter.
And fuck Jongdae loves him. Loves his large dark eyes, and his perfect mouth, and his soft, soft hair. Loves the way he says his name, whispering praises, words of love, words of wonder, along his collarbones, along his cheekbones. Jongdae loves everything about Minseok. He loves the memories. The dorm floor at 3am, half laughing, half crying into stacks upon stacks of essays, textbooks. The bad movie marathons in 11th grade, curled up together under piles of blankets and pillows. Minseok creeping through Jongdae's living room, spray bottle in hand, just in case his best friend's cat makes an appearance. Minseok getting his degree, and Jongdae following along a bit later, the look of pride on Minseok's face, features distorting into a look of pure joy, before leaning forward to kiss Jongdae smack on the lips, in a crowded auditorium.
It's hard to take things slow when Jongdae just loves so so much, but Minseok is patience. He is grace, and adoration. He is soft caresses, and warm, tight hugs. Minseok is the moon, and the sun, and all of the seasons at once, and right now Jongdae just wants.
“Patience my kitten, we have all night to do this,” Whispers Minseok, leaning back in, pressing light feathery kisses onto Jongdae’s jaw, muttering words that Jongdae doesn’t quite catch, and Jongdae can’t help the moan he lets spill when he feels a hand press down through his jeans, breathing hard. Minseok takes his time, tongue insistent, one hand crawling up his shirt, the other palming him, slowly and softly, coaxing him to full hardness, cock straining in his jeans.
As Minseok breaks for air Jongdae lunges forward, latching onto his neck, sucking dark circles into skin, relishing the soft sound his lover makes when he bites down, soothing it over with his tongue, fingers working to remove clothes, to bring them closer, skin to skin. Jongdae is expecting Minseok to stop him, to keep things how they’re going, steady, too slow, but to his surprise Minseok obediently lifts up his arms, Jongdae hungrily pulling the shirt over his head, and reaching for his own.
The younger man drinks in the sight before him for a few seconds, despite seeing it many times before. Minseok is beautiful, toned in all the right places, almost abs perfect enough that Jongdae yearns to just reach and touch, to slide his hands all over, claim soft skin with teeth. And that’s exactly what he does, yanking Minseok towards him, mouth everywhere, sucking on a nipple, tugging with his teeth, swirling his tongue around the bud, before moving onto the other one, Minseok letting out a low whine. Jongdae is impatient, so impatient, always wanting. And Minseok as usual seems to sense his impatience, always working against him, to counter it, to steady him.
Minseok calls it love making, Jongdae calls it slow torture. He tugs at Minseok’s pants, hastily attempting to undo the button, but is instead pushed back once again into the couch, Minseok’s tongue, warm, wet, and soothing, coaxing him into a languid, romantic kiss. Lips swollen, breaths uneven. Minseok sucks on his tongue, pulling it gently, and Jongdae keens, pushes his hips up, needing, wanting, craving any kind of release. Minseok rolls his hips in response, a breathy moan escaping his own lips, in unison with Jongdae’s own moans, the only sign that Minseok needs this just as bad, is craving a release too.
Jongdae takes matters into his own hands, smiling his cat like smile, and roughly flips them over, taking the other by surprise, pinning him down with one arm, and tugging at his pants with the other, because fuck it, he wants it, and he wants it now. Minseok obliges, seeming to have given up his control, shimmying out of his jeans, and helping Jongdae with his own, tossing them in whatever direction, to be collected later, Jongdae now straddling him, eliciting a sharp gasp with each roll of his hips.
They rut against each other,erections moving together through one layer of cloth. but Jongdae is still impatient, and rids them of underwear, sighing when his cock hits the cool air conditioned air of the Café. He takes hold of Minseok’s erection, curved towards his stomach, dripping pre come, and gives it a slight tug, smirking at the gasp it elicits, always feeling so proud when he can make the other feel, always wanting to please. Jongdae spits on his fingers, and works a thumb over the slit, pulling and twisting, taking his time, enjoying himself, until Minseok is finally the one to become impatient, covering Jongdae’s hand with his own.
“Are you going to put your mouth on it, or should I just go finish cleaning?” Minseok sounds snarky, but the last part of his sentence is cut off by a short moan, as Jongdae leans down and runs his tongue from the base to the tip in one fluid motion. He looks up and grins, “What were you saying?”
Minseok growls, pushing Jongdae’s head back down, strong fingers holding onto hair, as Jongdae gives him kitten licks, playfully kissing the head, before he dives straight in, hollowing out his cheeks and taking Minseok fully in his mouth. Jongdae's tongue dances over sensitive areas, sings in all the right places, familiar and learned. Minseok's body is his territory, and he knows it well. Knows exactly where to rasp his tongue over, knows exactly how much of the man he can fit inside his mouth.
“Fuck Jongdae”, Minseok swears, head falling back, hands gripping the edges of the soft white couch. Their eyes never leave each other, each getting lost in the other, as Jongdae sucks in a breath, encasing Minseoks cock, digging his tongue in. Minseok’s hips thrust up, unable to stop himself, back arching with pleasure, like Jongdae's Jongdae makes the most obscene slurping sounds, humming, hands finding their way down to squeeze Minseok’s balls lightly. Minseok feels hot in his mouth, pulsing against his lips, and Jongdae knows he’s close.
Minseok pants, attempting to sit up, and stutters, “Jongdae, Jongdae st-stop, I’m going to come”
“But Hyung, I was having so much fun!” Jongdae pulls off with an obnoxious pop, looking put out, wiping his mouth, frowning. Minseok looks wrecked, dazed, just how Jongdae wants him. He wants to make him pliant, to mark him, claim him, mine. Minseok just giggles, the action making Jongdae’s heart burst, because it’s so like his boyfriend to fucking giggle during sex, and he’s so busy exploding with love that he’s completely caught off guard when Minseok’s teeth graze his inner thigh, a full body shiver running through him. He whines, almost continuously as Minseok nibbles, kisses, soothes the area around his neglected erection, each touch sending currents through his veins, like shots of electricity.
Jongdae grows impatient, cock twitching, pre come dripping down the side, breathing ragged, voice strained. He feels fingers graze the area around his entrance, feels lips so close to his cock, so close to where he needs him, and his whole body arches, moves, blindly, towards the source of the pleasure, impatient, always impatient.
“Hyung, hurry the fuck up,” He practically wails, blindly reaching out to find Minseok, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to be touched, cock literally aching to feel anything. Minseok lightly grazes a thumb over the tip of Jongdae’s erection, practically caressing it, holding it as if it were a precious jewel, and presses the softest of feathery kisses onto the head, causing Jongdae to moan loudly, wrecked at just the slightest touch. Minseok treats him like gold, like diamonds, treats Jongdae like he matters and Jongdae is a mess, inside and out.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Minseok’s voice comes out in a murmur, husky, controlled, laced with lust. He kisses the tip of Jongdae’s cock again, gingerly, licking at the liquid leaking out, making Jongdae squirm, gasps, moans, unintelligible words pouring out of his parted lips. “Do you want my mouth on you? Do you want to feel good?”
The only answer Jongdae gives is a long drawn out sound, forlorn, and full of sheer need. Minseok stops his teasing abuse completely and raises an eyebrow.
“Tell me with your words, Jongdae. Take your time, we have all night love.” His voice is caring, reassuring, full of patience, and love, strong hands pumping Jongdae leisurely, torturously, movements lethargic. Jongdae sputters, mind dizzy, a jumble of incoherent thoughts.
“Fuck me”, He manages, legs falling open, an invitation. Jongdae has no shame, has been here too many times, in too many places to care what he looks like. He longs for the feel of Minseok, the drag of his cock, the fullness, the push.
“Please Minseok Hyung, please fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me. I’ve been patient.” Jongdae’s words are almost too quiet, he sounds demolished, and it’s all Minseok’s doing. This is how Minseok likes him, spread out before him, begging, and submissive, and his own cock seems to spring back into life, wanting to be buried inside Jongdae’s tight walls.
And Minseok loves Jongdae too. Loves his bright eyes, and his youthful laughter. Loves the way the corners of his mouth are always smiling. Jongdae is endless support, a crutch, always there, loving him for him, not wanting anything else. Jongdae is past, and present and future, and promise.The Cafe, their apartment, their dream. Minseok always loved the Cafe atmosphere, but he thinks he might like it less if Jongdae is not beside him.
“Soon my kitten,” Minseok almost purrs, patting Jongdae’s cheeks, caressing his sharp jaw line, affectionately. “Do you have the supplies?”
Jongdae barely registers the request, arms feeling like jelly, body feeling spent, left without a release for too long, but he manages, reaching for his jacket on the floor, pulling out the almost empty bottle of lube, and a condom (strawberry flavoured. It was a joke purchase, Jongdae swears). Minseok coats his fingers, and the sudden coolness of a finger slipping past his entrance makes Jongdae buck up, pushing onto Minseok's fingers, looking for purchase. The burn doesn't bother him, he's too finished, too impatient. Minseok slips a second finger in, working Jongdae slowly, deliberately teasing, always, always, teasing.
Then Minseok is curving his fingers, searching for the spot that makes Jongdae see stars when he finally finds it. Minseok continues to tease, tips of his fingers just barely brushing Jongdae’s prostate, every touch igniting a fire within burning right to his core.
Jongdae is crying for his release by this point, fucking himself onto Minseok’s fingers, chest heaving, eyes rolling back, screaming into the empty Café. Their little paradise, created by them, for them, together and always, now painted with their sounds, their music of promise.
“Min-Minseok Hyung” Jongdae gasps, “Just get your fucking dick inside my ass already, fuck.”
Minseok removes his fingers, dragging them, the body before him twisting in both pleasure and pain. The man beneath him gazes up at him, eyes glossy, mouth open, hair sticking to his forehead, sweaty and beautiful. Jongdae is so beautiful, so alluring, so fascinatingly enticing, and Minseok is so lucky, so blessed. Jongdae belongs to him, Jongdae is his. Minseok is the only person who can do this to him, the only person who can drive him insane with just his hands and mouth alone, the only person who can bring him to his climax, the collision of their bodies more than just physical attraction. Every touch, every mark, every light brush of lips, every squeeze of fingers, filled with fervor, devotion, passion.
Emotions expressed through bodies pressed flush against each other, wanting to be close, close, close, skin against skin, slotting together like puzzle pieces, as if Minseok was meant to fill Jongdae up, in both a physical and emotional sense of the word.
Minseok spreads Jongdae’s legs further apart, and leans down so their chests are touching, coming in for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, distracting, and comforting, and pushes inside, as slowly as possible, moaning when Jongdae clenches down around him, constricting and hot. They stay in this position for a while, breathing heavy, pressed together, waiting for Jongdae to adjust, Minseok whispering encouraging words into his ear, telling him how positively incredible he feels around him, how amazing he’s going to make Jongdae feel.
Jongdae chokes out a sound, voice rough, and Minseok begins to pull back, gradually, until the tip of his cock is just inside, and pushes back in, so slowly that Jongdae thinks he might disintegrate. They find a rhythm, Minseok thrusting slowly, but deep, burying himself to the hilt with each languid roll of his hips, and the moan that spills forth when he hits the bundle of nerves, is filthy, indecent, echoing off the walls, loud in the silent room.
He's going too slow, but almost not slow enough, and Jongdae thinks he could die like this. Each slide of Minseok's cock inside him feeling like a new kind of heaven, hitting more than just his prostate with every push. Jongdae begs with every whimper, every sigh. The sound that comes from his mouth like music to Minseok. Each moan hitting him like steady rain, like birds chirping in July. More beautiful than running streams, or the crunching of footsteps in snow.
Minseok picks up the pace, hips snapping, the sounds of skin slapping skin, mixed with soft noises, and Jongdae’s cries of pleasure, filling the room. Jongdae feels whole, complete, as if Minseok’s cock was meant to fit inside him, and he feels so hot, and so full. Jongdae looks absolutely ravaged, sweating, large wool scarf falling to the floor as his head lolls back, Minseok’s thrusts becoming deeper, and less rhythmic.
Jongdae reaches down to touch himself, pumping his own leaking cock alongside Minseok’s thrusts, but a hand slaps his away, Minseok curling his own fingers around his neglected erection, working his own magic. Jongdae can feel his vision blur, seeing white, heat building up, vibrating, but Minseok seems to sense his impending orgasm and slows down his thrusts, hand tugging, back to teasing him.
“You’re not allowed to come until I tell you.” Minseok whispers, voice husky, seeming to come from far away and Jongdae is underwater, but quick to oblige, attempting to nod, attempting to squeak out a yes, but he’s too spent, too weak, and the only sound that escapes his lips is a choked whimper. Minseok let’s go of his cock, and it springs back against Jongdae’s stomach, hot and heavy, too heavy.
“Do you think you can come without me touching you?” Minseok sounds demanding, in control, but the slight waver in his voice gives away that he’s close too, on the edge. Jongdae nods feebly, and hungrily pulls Minseok towards him, nails scraping weakly down his back, whining, wanting, impatient.
Minseok slams back into him, hard and fast this time, steady and purposeful. It doesn’t take long for Jongdae to come with a shout, untouched, biting down hard enough into his lover’s shoulder that it’s sure to leave marks, cock spilling its contents on both of their stomachs. Minseok doesn’t slow his pace, hitting the over sensitive spot over, and over, until his thrusts become uneven, hips stuttering, and his own release comes with a low moan, spilling into the condom and collapsing onto Jongdae.
He ties up the condom and throws it out, and returns to the couch, falling into Jongdae’s arms, both of them spent, exhausted, and weak, folding into each other, with soft kisses and caresses, Minseok’s hands rubbing soothing circles on Jongdae’s chest, eyes closed, and breaths soft, not caring that they’re both sticky, and disgusting. They could stay like forever, in after sex bliss, stuck toegether. They can't pass out like this though, and Jongdae pushes the older man off of him, causing him to land on the floor with a loud thump and an even louder curse.
“What the fuck Jongdae”, Minseok snaps angrily, naked and pouting on the cold ground. Jongdae grins sleepily, a breathy giggle emitting from him at the site before him.
“We’re gross. Let’s go home and shower.” He says, wrinkling his nose, and reaching for Minseok's hand, pulling him up off the floor, half heartedly dusting him off. They don't even both putting clothes back on, hastily grabbing them up, padding across the cool, tiled floor of the Cafe, weaving through tables, to reach the back door to their shared apartment, anticipating.
Later that night, wrapped around each other under thick blankets, nestled into soft pillows, Minseok’s arms encasing Jongdae’s waist, they exchange kisses, unhurried, and peaceful, the days stress long gone, a goodnight’s sleep ahead them. Jongdae rolls over, looking into Minseok’s large gorgeous eyes, and smiles his fondest smile, eyes crinkling, lips curving up even more than usual.
“I wish we had the shop to ourselves all the time,” he says quietly, fingers mapping out words of love on Minseok’s collarbones. “Today was quite fun”.
Minseok laughs softly, the sound twinkling, lmusical, welcoming, a laugh saved only for tender moments, late nights, and Jongdae.
“But that’s what makes it so much better” he responds. “If only the customers knew the history of the couches they sit on everyday”.
“We should do it in the egg chairs next time”
Minseok laughs again, louder this time, eyes wide with disbelief. “How would that even work?”
The look in Jongdae’s eyes is mischievous, a look Minseok knows all too well, and he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Jongdae just grins that salacious grin of his, and presses a finger to Minseok’s pretty lips.
“Sssh, don’t ask questions, just sleep darling.” And The way he says it makes sleep sound so wonderful to Minseok, makes egg chair sex completely plausible, and Minseok could implode, and he jostles himself closer to Jongdae, nuzzling into his neck, and mumbles something barely audible, drifting into a deep slumber.
“I love you too Hyung” whispers Jongdae, falling asleep shortly afterwards, in the one place in the world he always wants to be.
The next day a female customer at The Pillow Pit is surprised to find an expensive wooly scarf on the ground next to her favourite lounging couch, a spot right by the window, with a breathtaking view over the streets of Seoul. Smiling to herself over her amazing find, she wraps the scarf around her neck, feeling cozy and content, latte in hand. Jongdae contemplates claiming his scarf, but decides against it.
No one really needs to know what happens after closing time.
Minseok and Jongdae own a Cafe together. During the day business is business, but it's what happens after closing time that no one needs to know.
A/N: Adopted prompt from Chenpionships for seafogs
As soon as the door to the cafe is swung shut, the lights are dimmed, and the open sign has been flipped closed, Jongdae finds himself being pushed down into the couch he’s currently lounging in, a pair of lips catching his. He eases himself into the kiss easily; mouths locked together in a way that is practiced, familiar, eyelids fluttering shut. He feels hands fist themselves into his shirt, as the other breaks away from him, staring down at him, eyes dark, tinged with lust. Jongdae looks up at his best friend, business partner, and lover. He grins, tongue flicking out to lick his lips in anticipation.
“In a hurry today are we Minseok Hyung?” He asks, voice taunting, gazing up at the dark haired man hovering over him. Reaching up, he trails his fingers along the older man’s collar
“Are you sure you don’t want to clean up the machines first?” Jongdae teases, absentmindedly stroking Minseok’s jaw.
“You’re right.” Minseok sighs, boyish voice quiet in the already silent room. “I should probably get on that.”
Pushing himself off Jongdae, Minseok walks off towards the counter without another word, leaving Jongdae laying on the couch, disappointed and pouting.
Minseok and Jongdae had met back in High School, bonding over their mutual love for Chinese pop music, and bad winter sweaters. They’d stayed friends all throughout their school careers, and one day, noticing Minseok struggling with his dream of opening a Café, Jongdae had offered to co-own. He had a major in Business and Minseok had a major in accounting, and they had agreed to each other quite quickly, and thus The Pillow Pit was born. Jongdae had struggled a lot at first, not being a coffee drinker himself, spending his first while as a barista fumbling with the machines and messing up orders, but Minseok was a patient man. They grew together, along with the café, and became even closer. So close, that one day Jongdae had simply reached over, gripped the back of Minseok’s neck and kissed him. Minseok had simply looked at him, nodded and said, “Okay.”
What they do during the day is strictly professional. The café is run perfectly, the customers and staff are happy, and their following is loyal. The place is kept completely spotless, much to Minseok’s slight OCD and Jongdae’s love for doing the chores to keep from having to make drinks. What they do once the café closes however, is strictly their business, and so, so unprofessional.
Jongdae is content with watching Minseok clean, enjoying the warmth of the couch, a singular beam of sunlight peeking through the closed curtains. He also enjoys being a huge pervert too. One of the perks of working with Minseok is watching his cute behind wiggle around as he bends over to put supplies away, marveling at his arms as he carries things, and reveling in the little bit of toned skin that’s exposed when he reaches up to the higher shelves, height causing him to stretch.
Jongdae grows impatient watching Minseok clean, knowing what’s to come afterwards, exciting himself at the thought of unhurried touches, languid kisses, and whispered words. Clean up is long however, and Jongdae finds himself drifting off into a light sleep, using his thick black scarf as a pillow, cozy, like a dog beside a fireplace. Minseok chances a glance over and can’t stop the warm look of fondness that passes over his face, the corners of his lips curving up at how utterly adorable Jongdae is, looking cuddly and inviting.
Minseok telling Jongdae he's finished comes in the form of a soft weight pressing down on his back, plush lips coming in contact with the back of his neck, gentle and loving. Jongdae pushes himself up from his position, sprawled out on his stomach, having face planted into his wooly scarf and leans back into Minseok’s touch, baring his neck to give Minseok better access. Jongdae feels hands pushing into his shoulder blades, massaging and warm, as Minseok attends to his neck, dragging teeth lightly across his jaw, licking and biting softly, just enough to make his mind fuzzy.
Jongdae is perfectly happy just laying there, letting Minseok knead palms into his shoulders, letting him nibble the sensitive spot right below his ear. They have all the time in the world, he thinks, sighing and resting his head down on the pillowy garment, drowsy, and content.
Minseok though, has other plans, and he grips onto Jongdae’s shoulders, turning him over, so that they’re face to face.
“Don’t get too comfortable darling”, Minseok says, feline eyes sparkling, a knowing smirk forming on his face, tenderly tracing a single finger down Jongdae’s cheek. Minseok likes to take things slow, teasing, playful, his movements gradual, and smooth. Jongdae likes to take things quickly, with hurried, intense movements, rapid and needing. He doesn’t like to admit that he enjoys the way Minseok does things, enjoys being taken apart piece by piece, obscene words panted into his ear, enjoys the feel of rough fingers, pleasant and measured, casually bringing him to feel so deeply that his thoughts vanish, and time stops.
Minseok pulls Jongdae into a sitting position, straddling him, pinning him into place, planting closed mouth kisses here and there, eyes dark, but always bright. Minseok teases, he’s always teasing, kissing everywhere but Jongdae’s mouth, until Jongdae gets impatient finding the back of Minseok’s neck, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss that catches Minseok off guard, a quiet gasp escaping the other man. Jongdae’s hands move to hair, caressing and smoothing, and just needing to touch, to feel. Jongdae smirks into the kiss, feeling victorious, tongue flicking out to coax Minseok’s mouth open, eager to explore, to taste.
But Minseok has other plans and takes his chance, attacking Jongdae’s over eager tongue, taking control, his own sliding behind teeth, pressing against the roof of Jongdae’s mouth, curious hands making their way under his sweater, delicately splaying across his abdomen, still teasing. Tongues getting more desperate, hands that were delicate are pressing into skin, hard enough to leave skin bruised. Jongdae whines, his pants feeling tighter, his skin on fire. He feels so deliciously hot, head filled with thoughts of Minseok inside him, dominating, opening him up. Minseok pulls back to nibble on Jongdae’s bottom lip, beaming at him, his entire face seeming to emit love, innocence, and laughter.
And fuck Jongdae loves him. Loves his large dark eyes, and his perfect mouth, and his soft, soft hair. Loves the way he says his name, whispering praises, words of love, words of wonder, along his collarbones, along his cheekbones. Jongdae loves everything about Minseok. He loves the memories. The dorm floor at 3am, half laughing, half crying into stacks upon stacks of essays, textbooks. The bad movie marathons in 11th grade, curled up together under piles of blankets and pillows. Minseok creeping through Jongdae's living room, spray bottle in hand, just in case his best friend's cat makes an appearance. Minseok getting his degree, and Jongdae following along a bit later, the look of pride on Minseok's face, features distorting into a look of pure joy, before leaning forward to kiss Jongdae smack on the lips, in a crowded auditorium.
It's hard to take things slow when Jongdae just loves so so much, but Minseok is patience. He is grace, and adoration. He is soft caresses, and warm, tight hugs. Minseok is the moon, and the sun, and all of the seasons at once, and right now Jongdae just wants.
“Patience my kitten, we have all night to do this,” Whispers Minseok, leaning back in, pressing light feathery kisses onto Jongdae’s jaw, muttering words that Jongdae doesn’t quite catch, and Jongdae can’t help the moan he lets spill when he feels a hand press down through his jeans, breathing hard. Minseok takes his time, tongue insistent, one hand crawling up his shirt, the other palming him, slowly and softly, coaxing him to full hardness, cock straining in his jeans.
As Minseok breaks for air Jongdae lunges forward, latching onto his neck, sucking dark circles into skin, relishing the soft sound his lover makes when he bites down, soothing it over with his tongue, fingers working to remove clothes, to bring them closer, skin to skin. Jongdae is expecting Minseok to stop him, to keep things how they’re going, steady, too slow, but to his surprise Minseok obediently lifts up his arms, Jongdae hungrily pulling the shirt over his head, and reaching for his own.
The younger man drinks in the sight before him for a few seconds, despite seeing it many times before. Minseok is beautiful, toned in all the right places, almost abs perfect enough that Jongdae yearns to just reach and touch, to slide his hands all over, claim soft skin with teeth. And that’s exactly what he does, yanking Minseok towards him, mouth everywhere, sucking on a nipple, tugging with his teeth, swirling his tongue around the bud, before moving onto the other one, Minseok letting out a low whine. Jongdae is impatient, so impatient, always wanting. And Minseok as usual seems to sense his impatience, always working against him, to counter it, to steady him.
Minseok calls it love making, Jongdae calls it slow torture. He tugs at Minseok’s pants, hastily attempting to undo the button, but is instead pushed back once again into the couch, Minseok’s tongue, warm, wet, and soothing, coaxing him into a languid, romantic kiss. Lips swollen, breaths uneven. Minseok sucks on his tongue, pulling it gently, and Jongdae keens, pushes his hips up, needing, wanting, craving any kind of release. Minseok rolls his hips in response, a breathy moan escaping his own lips, in unison with Jongdae’s own moans, the only sign that Minseok needs this just as bad, is craving a release too.
Jongdae takes matters into his own hands, smiling his cat like smile, and roughly flips them over, taking the other by surprise, pinning him down with one arm, and tugging at his pants with the other, because fuck it, he wants it, and he wants it now. Minseok obliges, seeming to have given up his control, shimmying out of his jeans, and helping Jongdae with his own, tossing them in whatever direction, to be collected later, Jongdae now straddling him, eliciting a sharp gasp with each roll of his hips.
They rut against each other,erections moving together through one layer of cloth. but Jongdae is still impatient, and rids them of underwear, sighing when his cock hits the cool air conditioned air of the Café. He takes hold of Minseok’s erection, curved towards his stomach, dripping pre come, and gives it a slight tug, smirking at the gasp it elicits, always feeling so proud when he can make the other feel, always wanting to please. Jongdae spits on his fingers, and works a thumb over the slit, pulling and twisting, taking his time, enjoying himself, until Minseok is finally the one to become impatient, covering Jongdae’s hand with his own.
“Are you going to put your mouth on it, or should I just go finish cleaning?” Minseok sounds snarky, but the last part of his sentence is cut off by a short moan, as Jongdae leans down and runs his tongue from the base to the tip in one fluid motion. He looks up and grins, “What were you saying?”
Minseok growls, pushing Jongdae’s head back down, strong fingers holding onto hair, as Jongdae gives him kitten licks, playfully kissing the head, before he dives straight in, hollowing out his cheeks and taking Minseok fully in his mouth. Jongdae's tongue dances over sensitive areas, sings in all the right places, familiar and learned. Minseok's body is his territory, and he knows it well. Knows exactly where to rasp his tongue over, knows exactly how much of the man he can fit inside his mouth.
“Fuck Jongdae”, Minseok swears, head falling back, hands gripping the edges of the soft white couch. Their eyes never leave each other, each getting lost in the other, as Jongdae sucks in a breath, encasing Minseoks cock, digging his tongue in. Minseok’s hips thrust up, unable to stop himself, back arching with pleasure, like Jongdae's Jongdae makes the most obscene slurping sounds, humming, hands finding their way down to squeeze Minseok’s balls lightly. Minseok feels hot in his mouth, pulsing against his lips, and Jongdae knows he’s close.
Minseok pants, attempting to sit up, and stutters, “Jongdae, Jongdae st-stop, I’m going to come”
“But Hyung, I was having so much fun!” Jongdae pulls off with an obnoxious pop, looking put out, wiping his mouth, frowning. Minseok looks wrecked, dazed, just how Jongdae wants him. He wants to make him pliant, to mark him, claim him, mine. Minseok just giggles, the action making Jongdae’s heart burst, because it’s so like his boyfriend to fucking giggle during sex, and he’s so busy exploding with love that he’s completely caught off guard when Minseok’s teeth graze his inner thigh, a full body shiver running through him. He whines, almost continuously as Minseok nibbles, kisses, soothes the area around his neglected erection, each touch sending currents through his veins, like shots of electricity.
Jongdae grows impatient, cock twitching, pre come dripping down the side, breathing ragged, voice strained. He feels fingers graze the area around his entrance, feels lips so close to his cock, so close to where he needs him, and his whole body arches, moves, blindly, towards the source of the pleasure, impatient, always impatient.
“Hyung, hurry the fuck up,” He practically wails, blindly reaching out to find Minseok, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to be touched, cock literally aching to feel anything. Minseok lightly grazes a thumb over the tip of Jongdae’s erection, practically caressing it, holding it as if it were a precious jewel, and presses the softest of feathery kisses onto the head, causing Jongdae to moan loudly, wrecked at just the slightest touch. Minseok treats him like gold, like diamonds, treats Jongdae like he matters and Jongdae is a mess, inside and out.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Minseok’s voice comes out in a murmur, husky, controlled, laced with lust. He kisses the tip of Jongdae’s cock again, gingerly, licking at the liquid leaking out, making Jongdae squirm, gasps, moans, unintelligible words pouring out of his parted lips. “Do you want my mouth on you? Do you want to feel good?”
The only answer Jongdae gives is a long drawn out sound, forlorn, and full of sheer need. Minseok stops his teasing abuse completely and raises an eyebrow.
“Tell me with your words, Jongdae. Take your time, we have all night love.” His voice is caring, reassuring, full of patience, and love, strong hands pumping Jongdae leisurely, torturously, movements lethargic. Jongdae sputters, mind dizzy, a jumble of incoherent thoughts.
“Fuck me”, He manages, legs falling open, an invitation. Jongdae has no shame, has been here too many times, in too many places to care what he looks like. He longs for the feel of Minseok, the drag of his cock, the fullness, the push.
“Please Minseok Hyung, please fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me. I’ve been patient.” Jongdae’s words are almost too quiet, he sounds demolished, and it’s all Minseok’s doing. This is how Minseok likes him, spread out before him, begging, and submissive, and his own cock seems to spring back into life, wanting to be buried inside Jongdae’s tight walls.
And Minseok loves Jongdae too. Loves his bright eyes, and his youthful laughter. Loves the way the corners of his mouth are always smiling. Jongdae is endless support, a crutch, always there, loving him for him, not wanting anything else. Jongdae is past, and present and future, and promise.The Cafe, their apartment, their dream. Minseok always loved the Cafe atmosphere, but he thinks he might like it less if Jongdae is not beside him.
“Soon my kitten,” Minseok almost purrs, patting Jongdae’s cheeks, caressing his sharp jaw line, affectionately. “Do you have the supplies?”
Jongdae barely registers the request, arms feeling like jelly, body feeling spent, left without a release for too long, but he manages, reaching for his jacket on the floor, pulling out the almost empty bottle of lube, and a condom (strawberry flavoured. It was a joke purchase, Jongdae swears). Minseok coats his fingers, and the sudden coolness of a finger slipping past his entrance makes Jongdae buck up, pushing onto Minseok's fingers, looking for purchase. The burn doesn't bother him, he's too finished, too impatient. Minseok slips a second finger in, working Jongdae slowly, deliberately teasing, always, always, teasing.
Then Minseok is curving his fingers, searching for the spot that makes Jongdae see stars when he finally finds it. Minseok continues to tease, tips of his fingers just barely brushing Jongdae’s prostate, every touch igniting a fire within burning right to his core.
Jongdae is crying for his release by this point, fucking himself onto Minseok’s fingers, chest heaving, eyes rolling back, screaming into the empty Café. Their little paradise, created by them, for them, together and always, now painted with their sounds, their music of promise.
“Min-Minseok Hyung” Jongdae gasps, “Just get your fucking dick inside my ass already, fuck.”
Minseok removes his fingers, dragging them, the body before him twisting in both pleasure and pain. The man beneath him gazes up at him, eyes glossy, mouth open, hair sticking to his forehead, sweaty and beautiful. Jongdae is so beautiful, so alluring, so fascinatingly enticing, and Minseok is so lucky, so blessed. Jongdae belongs to him, Jongdae is his. Minseok is the only person who can do this to him, the only person who can drive him insane with just his hands and mouth alone, the only person who can bring him to his climax, the collision of their bodies more than just physical attraction. Every touch, every mark, every light brush of lips, every squeeze of fingers, filled with fervor, devotion, passion.
Emotions expressed through bodies pressed flush against each other, wanting to be close, close, close, skin against skin, slotting together like puzzle pieces, as if Minseok was meant to fill Jongdae up, in both a physical and emotional sense of the word.
Minseok spreads Jongdae’s legs further apart, and leans down so their chests are touching, coming in for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, distracting, and comforting, and pushes inside, as slowly as possible, moaning when Jongdae clenches down around him, constricting and hot. They stay in this position for a while, breathing heavy, pressed together, waiting for Jongdae to adjust, Minseok whispering encouraging words into his ear, telling him how positively incredible he feels around him, how amazing he’s going to make Jongdae feel.
Jongdae chokes out a sound, voice rough, and Minseok begins to pull back, gradually, until the tip of his cock is just inside, and pushes back in, so slowly that Jongdae thinks he might disintegrate. They find a rhythm, Minseok thrusting slowly, but deep, burying himself to the hilt with each languid roll of his hips, and the moan that spills forth when he hits the bundle of nerves, is filthy, indecent, echoing off the walls, loud in the silent room.
He's going too slow, but almost not slow enough, and Jongdae thinks he could die like this. Each slide of Minseok's cock inside him feeling like a new kind of heaven, hitting more than just his prostate with every push. Jongdae begs with every whimper, every sigh. The sound that comes from his mouth like music to Minseok. Each moan hitting him like steady rain, like birds chirping in July. More beautiful than running streams, or the crunching of footsteps in snow.
Minseok picks up the pace, hips snapping, the sounds of skin slapping skin, mixed with soft noises, and Jongdae’s cries of pleasure, filling the room. Jongdae feels whole, complete, as if Minseok’s cock was meant to fit inside him, and he feels so hot, and so full. Jongdae looks absolutely ravaged, sweating, large wool scarf falling to the floor as his head lolls back, Minseok’s thrusts becoming deeper, and less rhythmic.
Jongdae reaches down to touch himself, pumping his own leaking cock alongside Minseok’s thrusts, but a hand slaps his away, Minseok curling his own fingers around his neglected erection, working his own magic. Jongdae can feel his vision blur, seeing white, heat building up, vibrating, but Minseok seems to sense his impending orgasm and slows down his thrusts, hand tugging, back to teasing him.
“You’re not allowed to come until I tell you.” Minseok whispers, voice husky, seeming to come from far away and Jongdae is underwater, but quick to oblige, attempting to nod, attempting to squeak out a yes, but he’s too spent, too weak, and the only sound that escapes his lips is a choked whimper. Minseok let’s go of his cock, and it springs back against Jongdae’s stomach, hot and heavy, too heavy.
“Do you think you can come without me touching you?” Minseok sounds demanding, in control, but the slight waver in his voice gives away that he’s close too, on the edge. Jongdae nods feebly, and hungrily pulls Minseok towards him, nails scraping weakly down his back, whining, wanting, impatient.
Minseok slams back into him, hard and fast this time, steady and purposeful. It doesn’t take long for Jongdae to come with a shout, untouched, biting down hard enough into his lover’s shoulder that it’s sure to leave marks, cock spilling its contents on both of their stomachs. Minseok doesn’t slow his pace, hitting the over sensitive spot over, and over, until his thrusts become uneven, hips stuttering, and his own release comes with a low moan, spilling into the condom and collapsing onto Jongdae.
He ties up the condom and throws it out, and returns to the couch, falling into Jongdae’s arms, both of them spent, exhausted, and weak, folding into each other, with soft kisses and caresses, Minseok’s hands rubbing soothing circles on Jongdae’s chest, eyes closed, and breaths soft, not caring that they’re both sticky, and disgusting. They could stay like forever, in after sex bliss, stuck toegether. They can't pass out like this though, and Jongdae pushes the older man off of him, causing him to land on the floor with a loud thump and an even louder curse.
“What the fuck Jongdae”, Minseok snaps angrily, naked and pouting on the cold ground. Jongdae grins sleepily, a breathy giggle emitting from him at the site before him.
“We’re gross. Let’s go home and shower.” He says, wrinkling his nose, and reaching for Minseok's hand, pulling him up off the floor, half heartedly dusting him off. They don't even both putting clothes back on, hastily grabbing them up, padding across the cool, tiled floor of the Cafe, weaving through tables, to reach the back door to their shared apartment, anticipating.
Later that night, wrapped around each other under thick blankets, nestled into soft pillows, Minseok’s arms encasing Jongdae’s waist, they exchange kisses, unhurried, and peaceful, the days stress long gone, a goodnight’s sleep ahead them. Jongdae rolls over, looking into Minseok’s large gorgeous eyes, and smiles his fondest smile, eyes crinkling, lips curving up even more than usual.
“I wish we had the shop to ourselves all the time,” he says quietly, fingers mapping out words of love on Minseok’s collarbones. “Today was quite fun”.
Minseok laughs softly, the sound twinkling, lmusical, welcoming, a laugh saved only for tender moments, late nights, and Jongdae.
“But that’s what makes it so much better” he responds. “If only the customers knew the history of the couches they sit on everyday”.
“We should do it in the egg chairs next time”
Minseok laughs again, louder this time, eyes wide with disbelief. “How would that even work?”
The look in Jongdae’s eyes is mischievous, a look Minseok knows all too well, and he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Jongdae just grins that salacious grin of his, and presses a finger to Minseok’s pretty lips.
“Sssh, don’t ask questions, just sleep darling.” And The way he says it makes sleep sound so wonderful to Minseok, makes egg chair sex completely plausible, and Minseok could implode, and he jostles himself closer to Jongdae, nuzzling into his neck, and mumbles something barely audible, drifting into a deep slumber.
“I love you too Hyung” whispers Jongdae, falling asleep shortly afterwards, in the one place in the world he always wants to be.
The next day a female customer at The Pillow Pit is surprised to find an expensive wooly scarf on the ground next to her favourite lounging couch, a spot right by the window, with a breathtaking view over the streets of Seoul. Smiling to herself over her amazing find, she wraps the scarf around her neck, feeling cozy and content, latte in hand. Jongdae contemplates claiming his scarf, but decides against it.
No one really needs to know what happens after closing time.