Fanfiction: Almond Skins
Title: Almond Skins
Genre: P-W-P
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Onho
Summary: They have waited until they could wait no longer.
A/N: Over 6000 words. This is pretty much an excuse for me to write gratuitous, awkward smut for my otp. There are a couple inside jokes in here since I am thinking about making random stories of stages in their relationship... But who knows if it will actually happen.
They are staring at each other, sitting cross-legged and stark naked in the glow of a pink spherical nightlight, a five dollar find from Ikea.
It seemed like a cute idea at the time when they were shopping and Jinki was giddy with delight, star struck from the wonders of the lighting department of the ingenious global corporation. But as of now with the girly-hued tones and flowery shapes falling over their bare skin in the dark of night, the coveted light only seemed to be mocking them. It was because this situation was really serious, serious enough for Minho to notice Jinki bite his lips more than the customary once-every-sixteen-minutes.
Yes, he had counted.
That is what you do when you are in love, especially when you have been in love for three years (or maybe longer): the first year a rush of courage, shattered by a failed confession and the attempt to move on; the second year a drunken declaration from the person who rejected you with the misery-inducing statement “I was scared - you’re a guy”; and finally the third year where the patches of your heart are mended, bursting at the seams as he pushes the breath out of your lungs with a hug, whispering, “I’m sorry for making you wait, but I think I love you.”
Promptly, this is the kind of scenario that should bring along months and months of puppy love, but after three years of tossing and turning from sleepless nights, Minho should have known it would not go so easily. They have only been an official (but not-so-official) in the closet couple for two months now and were already facing the dilemma that so many Korean couples face. At the age of 26, Jinki was sent a notice to enlist to the army.
He has one week and the government is unwilling to push back the date, probably from all the backlash of the public calling favouritism for idols. Thankfully, the company decides to handle the paperwork and all Jinki is told to do is pack his bags and relax for his remaining days. He does just that, conveniently so in their small apartment for two. Roommates or at least that is what they told everyone a month ago when Jinki decided to move into Minho’s quaint 800 square feet home.
Yet this situation almost leaves Minho wanting to laugh as they had just finished unpacking all of Jinki’s belongings. Now those possessions are littered across the floor again, only to be stacked and headed straight back into a suitcase.
He is frustrated, impatient, and tired, with reason of course, but Minho still wonders if he is warranted for rushing things with his sudden suggestion; his sudden suggestion that leaves Jinki reluctantly complying. Nevertheless, at the present moment, the two are unmoving, sitting on their bed adorned with Spongebob Squarepants sheets (a housewarming gift from Kibum).
“Am I taking things too fast?” Minho breaks the silence, reaching out to touch Jinki’s arm. “I mean we haven’t done this before and well, it’s probably difficult.”
Difficult is of course the gentlest way of putting it, when Minho tries to not get discouraged, watching Jinki’s eyes dart about, pupils only stopping for the briefest of milliseconds to glance at Minho’s crotch.
Sadly, that is why Minho had proposed stripping from head-to-toe in the first place, so that there would be no surprises. However with the way his hyung’s eyes practically fall short of bulging out of their sockets, Minho figures his strategy has failed. His lack of womanly parts appears to be a daunting obstacle all the same.
“If it’s too unpleasant-” Another slow descent of cautious words. “-We could always just wait. It’s not like I haven’t waited before.” Minho’s tongue feels thick as he pauses, just catching onto his thoughtless slip. He shoots a furtive glance to the older man who in response visibly flinches and twiddles his two thumbs together.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Jinki assures, speaking timidly for the first time since they began, his eyelids fluttering in the process. “I want to see this through...”
Before I leave for two years, Minho imagines as the words trail off. And there is no doubt that he wants to believe his hyung, believe that the man wants to go through with this; however, at the current moment, Minho cannot feel anything but discouraged.
Except that attitude was completely wrong, Minho shaking his head in an attempt to dispel his pessimism: a trait that never helped him the long run. If he looked at the bright side of things, perhaps Minho should consider it a sign that at the very least Jinki was not running away, considering the man used to escape while squeaking incoherent excuses when Minho tried to nonchalantly initiate a kiss.
This had to be a sign of something, right?
“I believe you hyung,” Minho states calmly (a flat out lie), while stealthily strategizing for some sort of tactic to not lose the opportunity before him. “But we have a problem now. How do we start?”
Sure they are naked, sure they are on a bed, and sure they have a whole night but no, despite cliché expectations, these factors alone do not equate to sex. For one, Minho notices with a tinge of humiliation, out of the two of them he is the only one who shows any sign of arousal, and Jinki in stark contrast is as flaccid as can be. Although this reaction is not surprising, as Minho knows from years of guy talk in a dorm of five men, Jinki likes a girl with a good rack.
Minho subconsciously glances down at his very naked self and stops himself short from sighing. He may workout with pecs as a decent result, but really they did not amount to so much... well- boobage. Having a defined abdomen is no additional help, and suddenly Minho feels very self conscious.
In a pitiful instant Minho swings his arms forward, a poor cover over his lean muscles. For usually being so confident about his looks, the young man is not used to the sudden thought in his head that all his testosterone has in fact made him quite hideous.
“You think you need to hide yourself?” An exclamation of disbelief and Jinki’s jaw drops. “You are the gorgeously tall one with chocolate abs! Mine melted two weeks ago!”
And finally in this moment, Jinki tears his gaze from the sheets and looks straight into Minho’s eyes. Of course, this eye contact is not brought upon by the romantic attraction that he imagined the night would bring, but somehow it leaves Minho wanting to smile anyway. He does so precisely, holding up a hand to his lips, hiding a snicker at the ridiculousness of his hyung and the realization that they are both insecure.
Jinki is embarrassed for his abrupt admission and he blushes, slinking back into himself.
“So you think I am gorgeous hyung?” Minho cannot help but prod as his irritating smirk becomes a permanent fixation on his face.
“Have I ever said you were ugly?” Jinki grumbles, staring earnestly at the younger man as Minho leans in far beyond any regard of personal space. “And weren’t you the one who self-declared yourself as the most handsome member of Shinee?”
“And weren’t you the one who said to be a good leader, you have to be handsome?” Minho chides quickly, inclined close enough to feel Jinki’s breath on his nose.
Jinki frowns. “Are you flirting with me or being a smart mouth?”
“Well you know how to deal with both of those situations right?” Minho grins, at last feeling the heavy atmosphere of tension peel away.
“I do, especially after your lessons on reading erotica at midnight.”
Jinki looks cross and Minho brightly provides the most nauseating but innocent smile he can muster.
“I’ll make you shut up Choi Minho.”
The space between them closes, Jinki’s arms reaching around Minho’s shoulders, the man slipping easily into his lap as their lips press together with a simple insistent kiss. Minho hums softly in response; his fingers naturally reaching up to press at the bones of Jinki’s spine one by one, pulling their bodies flush against one another.
Minho opens his mouth and gladly obliges the invading tongue dipping just behind his bottom teeth. So much better than the first time in a backstage closet, where they had gotten the angles all wrong, teeth clicking and noses bumping.
Minho lets the reminiscent thought sink in as he smiles to himself, hands sliding down Jinki’s sides and finger pads gliding down the warm skin. He relishes feeling his hyung shiver before Jinki parts and stares at Minho with hooded eyes.
“Is this a good start?” Jinki asks with a modest smile, his hands pressing against the dark curled locks framing Minho’s neck. “You’d think we could have figured out this part ten minutes ago.”
“Well it’s much better now that you have actually had a reaction.”
Jinki scrunches his nose, not quite understanding Minho’s statement. Nonetheless, the younger man finds himself creepily elated and far from discouraged as he feels it graze against his stomach. And as Minho grinds his hips upwards, that is when Jinki catches on to the reality of the situation with a gasp, length erect between his legs. All of this achieved without voluptuous breasts Minho is proud to say.
Still, he does not want to get ahead of himself and Minho asks with a quiet sincerity, “Do you want to keep going?”
Jinki hisses and Minho furrows his brows, not finding the noise an expected response to his question, even if it did sound pleasant. Then the man glares at him, motioning with his eyes downward where Minho blushes, catching sight of his hands, having already moved past Jinki’s stomach and stroking at darkened nipples. Minho’s eyes widen as he withdraws his hands, just short of completely molesting his boyfriend.
“S-sorry.” A late apology to say the least.
Jinki seems to take pity, with a small appreciative glance before averting his gaze. “Well since it seems you have no intention of stopping-” Minho flinches from embarrassment as the older man speaks. “And well neither do I...” Minho blinks, looking towards Jinki. “Isn’t that what we are supposed to do?”
Jinki’s cheeks are dusted pink as he gnaws on his bottom lip, eyebrows knit closely together.
“I mean we should do what feels good right?”
And Minho barely stops his heart from jumping, because if there was any meaning to catch, it was that these words held the implications that what Minho was doing, felt good.
It is definitely more than a start and with a bit of assertion, Minho places his hands back on Jinki’s pale skin, watching closely for his hyung’s reactions, which at the very least lacked a sense of objection. Far from it in fact as Minho wets his lips, daringly rubbing the palm of his hand over a pert nipple, Jinki in response pressing his lips into a thin line. Then Minho feels it, the constant pound against his hands, his hyung’s heartbeat shooting rapid fire.
Minho’s cheeks flush red.
Maybe he was not as repulsive to Jinki as he thought.
But the thought is not allowed to linger in his mind as Minho finds his backside colliding with the sheets. He is pushed straight over the Spongebob print and before Minho can comprehend how it wigs him out to have those large googly eyes staring at him, a groan escapes his lips; Jinki’s cock slides against his own, shooting a throbbing tingle between his legs.
“F-fuck hyung.”
A huff from the older man whose hands fall on Minho’s chest, fingers curling just beneath distinct collarbones. “It was getting uncomfortable- down there.” Jinki seems embarrassed, Minho imagines not only for the horny outburst due to the obvious hard on, but also because his hyung has other things on his mind, for example, a full view of Minho’s naked body.
Yet again, he can see it, a repetition of Jinki scanning his body, but for some reason, Minho feels less self-conscious. This courage allows him to move his hands towards a sensitive area and as expected, Jinki shakes when Minho’s fingers press into his behind. Yet the action is not without reason and Minho uses the grip to his advantage, pulling Jinki forward and sliding their lengths together once again, earning a panting breath from the older man.
“You said it yourself hyung,” explains Minho, his own heartbeat jumping as he stares upwards, “We should do what feels good.”
Jinki gives Minho a testy look, annoyed at having his own words shot back at him, but he nods anyway. Knees bent and placed on both sides of Minho’s hips, the older man chews his lips together before nervously leaning forwards and setting a slow tempo, pressing their erections together.
And for certain their inexperience shows as Jinki manages to aim at all the wrong places: cocks sliding past one another and hip bones jutting into skin at painful angles. All the same, the two aim their bodies to look for that pleasurable sensation that burns with intensity when done right. It makes any awkward moment easily overlooked and perhaps a little laughable.
With everything considered, seeing where they started, Minho thinks it is much simpler than they imagined, Minho panting beneath his hyung, enjoying the view of Jinki’s straining body and parted lips.
‘Do what feels good’ would become his new motto no doubt.
As such, Minho follows that bit of wisdom, holding back a moan and reaching forward with one hand. He wraps long fingers around their erections, adding to the slick sensation of heat and hopefully, reducing the awkward bump of hips. Minho’s other hand slides against Jinki’s chest and the man cannot seem to bear it, head lulling forward from the sudden accumulation of pleasure. Jinki’s head slips into the dip between Minho’s neck and shoulder, and it sends a thrill shaking down Minho’s spine as Jinki groans, thrusting into his stroking hand.
“Hyung-” Minho’s breath hitches, feeling a familiar but not entirely familiar wave of ecstasy pulse between his legs, so much better than his experiences near climax, masturbating alone in a bathroom stall. “Hyung, I’m going to come soon.”
Except that it might just be too soon, Minho writhing with a hitched breath, feeling his hips jerking up into the rush of heat as orgasm washes over him. His brain stalls for what feels like eternity and only when the warm sensation clouding his mind dissipates, only then does Minho notice with an unfocused vision that he has come alone; Jinki erect and oddly enough, stationary above him.
Minho blinks in an attempt to chase away his daze, staring down at the trail of white droplets across his abdomen, his empty palm with fingers folding in and out, his softening cock, then past his hyung’s crotch and up to Jinki’s eyes.
Jinki is staring at him, red from ear-to-ear.
“Ah shit,” Minho exclaims feeling the heat rushing to his own cheeks as he props himself up on his elbows and looks apologetically at Jinki. “I came kind of fast; I should have held back or something-”
Again, Minho feels insecurity ebbing away at him as the rush of worry crowds his mind. There was no question, there was just no question; Jinki saw him orgasm. Was it gross? Did he look like some fast horny teen?
“I was thinking, I should do what a boyfriend- no, partner would do right?”
The mild assertion is not what Minho expects as Jinki inches forward, still clearly embarrassed and struggling over some issue while resorting to avoiding eye contact. Yet Minho cannot for the life of him figure out what his hyung is up to as he watches Jinki kneel above his thighs, licking wet lips nervously. Minutes pass in this position, Minho watching Jinki inhale steady breaths as if in preparation, leaving the younger man unsure if he should interrupt his hyung. But Minho decides against it, instead opting for patience as the better course of action.
So it comes as a jolt to his senses when cold fingers trail a ghostly line up his thighs. It takes all of Minho’s self control not to tremble before those short fingers reach his abdomen, where Jinki does the unthinkable, touching the droplets of semen, dragging the wetness across his stomach before bringing the pearly liquid towards plush lips. Minho tries not to splutter, watching the act unfold, Jinki tasting the ejaculate with a hesitant lick.
His cock hardens again.
Then Jinki scrunches his face in displeasure.
“How am I supposed to s-suck you off if it’s like that?”
If it is possible to feel such things simultaneously, Minho wants to hide in a hole from complete mortification while laughing in hysteria from the ridiculousness of it all.
“Hyung I never asked you to,” Minho manages to croak out, observing panic set in to his not-so-eloquent boyfriend. “You never had to give me- head.” It makes Minho blush, saying the words aloud. “I don’t even know where you got that idea from.”
“A book.”
Awkward confession to say the least.
“I mean this is completely new to me.” Jinki runs his hands through his hair, gaze fixated on the sheets once again in his humiliation. “I only get the grasp of how a guy and girl work thanks to school but never mind including romance, and then... Then this happens.”
This, Minho supposes, meaning when Jinki found out he was not as straight as first presumed.
“They should make better instruction manuals or something.” Beside Minho, Jinki closes in on himself grumbling, head hiding under folded arms and knees bent beneath his chin. “I’m such an idiot.” And then there is a muffled sniffle.
“Oh come on hyung, are you crying?” Minho scrambles up to his knees, smiling to himself as Jinki manages to convey a maturity far less than his 26 years.
“It’s called sweating from the eyes Minho,” Jinki retorts, struggling as the younger man pries his arms apart.
“Jinki hyung,” Minho returns, “We were jacking off, not working out. You shouldn’t sweat so profusely that it comes out of your tear ducts.”
“Smart mouth.”
“Better than having a lack of articulation.” Minho chuckles, raising his palms to smear off a few of the salty tears from Jinki’s cheeks. If anything, the action seems to make Jinki more distressed, the man sobbing from a self-destructive mode of being overwhelmed, and for a very minor reason in Minho’s opinion.
“Hyung, we don’t have to go that fast.”
Minho cannot help it as he leans in, kissing Jinki’s cheeks softly, lips moving across the damp skin. His hyung always did this, struggling too hard to meet an unachievable goal within a small period of time then breaking down. It was strange to him, but Minho always admired that trait, because Jinki could do the impossible sometimes, although in this case, not quite so.
“But I’m a guy so I should know some of this stuff already.”
He listens to the weak protest; Minho delighted as Jinki arches his neck back to return Minho’s kisses, gentle presses of the lips.
“I shouldn’t be freaking out like this.”
The kisses become more insistent: Jinki’s arms wrapping around Minho’s neck, Minho’s fingers stroking down Jinki’s thighs.
“I mean it’s not like I’ve never touched my own dick before, so yours shouldn’t be some great mystery.”
Jinki pants between the words, Minho tongue sliding past his jawbone, down a pulsing artery. Then Jinki can feel it, the younger man’s smirk pressed against his skin.
“I can do it first hyung, since well, I am the gay one in this relationship.”
The joke falls on sensitive ears and Jinki readies a protest but halts abruptly, short of choking with a sound crossed between a sob and squeak escaping his throat.
Minho grins at this pleasing reaction as he leans down, taking Jinki slowly into his mouth, inch by inch. It’s a foreign sensation, a bit repulsive he will not deny, but Minho can forgive that as he decides to take a chance and move his tongue against the underside of Jinki’s full cock. The man makes that strange strangled noise again with a litany of curses and Minho’s name; truly, the sounds of a symphony that Minho would gladly put on repeat.
Then the sucking begins, horrid slurping noises and all, but for such primitive actions, Minho enjoys the reward: his hyung’s flushed cheeks and look of utter incoherency. Minho cannot help but feel aroused at the cost of his slight discomfort: hair pulled by anxious hands and head backing up to avoid being gagged by an over stimulated man. This was definitely Jinki’s first blowjob.
That is why, when Minho really starts to set a pace, working along his hyung’s cock, sucking, nibbling and sending the man into hysterics; he is startled when Jinki tugs at his hair, telling him, “S-stop.”
Minho does so immediately, rising and looking into Jinki’s eyes with thumb wiping saliva and precum from his lips. Did he do something wrong?
Apparently, Jinki catches onto that quick thought of insecurity and refutes it, shaking his head with flushed cheeks and quickened breaths.
“If you keep going,” Jinki says softly, gnawing his bottom lip, “I don’t think I could recover for a round two.” The man then proceeds to direct a look towards Minho’s own erection after his embarrassing admittance. “I wouldn’t want to leave yours - like that.”
It is an oddly touching statement in its own right, but Minho does not agree. “I could have just finished off in the bathroom.”
His suggestion however, does not seem to fly so well as Jinki gives the younger man a gods forbid look.
Minho stares dumbly back. “Then what do you want to do?”
Jinki bites his lip again before reaching for Minho’s hand, pulling it forward until it touches a discreet place. Minho swallows. This answer is more than direct.
His fingers graze against the older man’s anus and Minho panics for a brief second, thinking about every biology lesson in school and every comprehensive talk with gay men he has ever had simultaneously. It is physically safe if done right, there is nothing wrong with it and Minho knows that, but ironically every homophobic stereotype flies through his head: haemorrhoids, colorectal diseases and all.
Thankfully, Jinki moves about, shuffling above the sheets and effectively snapping Minho from his disparaging thought process. The older man opens the night cabinet beside the bed and Minho feels mortification drain all the blood from his face.
Jinki withdraws from the second drawer a copy of The Little Prince, shifts about a worn album (their first release to be precise), and carefully moves Minho’s prized autographed photo with the Korean’s Men Football Team, before finding Minho’s “secret stash.” That stash is made up of several condoms and a bottle of KY jelly that Minho bought after exploring a website called condom jungle, a memory he would rather forget.
“I saw you put it in here,” Jinki explains with an embarrassed gaze, “When you seemed really weird a couple of weeks ago. I guess I should thank you... for being prepared.”
“Uh, right.”
The bottle of lubricant falls into Minho’s hands and Jinki looks at him with nervous expectation.
Funny how the world works, for years Minho jacking off to the image of having his hyung tremble beneath his touch and despite that, now having the opportunity before him, Minho feeling as if he wanted to run away with his dick between his legs.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have been the one to grab the condom if I wasn’t.”
“Right.”
“But are you not sure?”
“Yes- I mean no. No, of course I am sure. I’m the one who asked you to have sex after dinner.”
“Right.”
Then the cap pops open, Minho inadvertently flicking the bottle open with fumbling fingers, leading to a deafening silence, as if some sacred right of passage were to begin.
The room instantly smells fruity (For some reason in his panic on the online sex-paraphernalia-distributor he had convinced himself “frutti-tutti punch” was best.) and Minho gives Jinki one more quick glance for any sign of disapproval before he squeezes the clear gel onto his fingers. He crawls forward as Jinki stiffens, the man trying to lean backwards and in the process, looking like a solid board snapped in half.
“Hyung, you need to spread your legs.”
Jinki’s thighs are pinned together.
“Oh... yeah.”
The older man moves his knees apart awkwardly; barely enough space for Minho to really get in, although he figures badgering at this point would not help the situation. He grips one of Jinki’s knees, gives a comforting squeeze before aiming his other hand at Jinki’s entrance. This really should not feel like some medical drama.
Then everything goes into tunnel vision.
The cool gel makes Jinki flinch and the man holds back a grunt as Minho pushes a finger in past the tight ring of muscle. That one finger is really all Minho can get in as Jinki almost seems to panic, hands balling into tight fists and teeth grinding together. The pressure on Minho’s hand sends his eyes wide as he looks at the older man, who is shaking and already becoming flushed from head to toe.
“R-relax hyung.”
“I-I am,” Jinki wheezes unconvincingly, “Oh gods what did that book say again about breathing during this part-”
Jinki nearly starts to hyperventilate, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes at the strange intrusion where things really never went up, only down and out.
“Hyung, maybe just count or something. You can do that right?” Minho tries desperately not to panic.
“One, two, one, three, six?” Jinki’s fingers claw into SpongeBob’s eye as oh gods, he can feel a knuckle. “Can you restart for me? Counting?” A pleading squeak.
“This isn’t working.”
Jinki blinks as the foreign sensation leaves his body the bottle of lubricant drops into his hand.
“But I-” Jinki looks ashamed at the realization. “I mean I have to give you something.”
“Oh please hyung.” Minho rolls his eyes and repositions himself, leaning back and propping his body up with his elbows, figuring this change in position as the only viable solution. “You are the only one who would worry about the balance of give and take during sex.”
Minho then shies away, averting his gaze from Jinki’s. “Besides, you are giving me more than you will ever know. I am ecstatic enough having you beside me.”
Jinki groans childishly. “You are so cheesy.”
Minho laughs. “Well then hurry up before I start reciting poems and Pablo Neruda.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Light-hearted with nervous reassuring smiles is what they need as Jinki creeps forward with uncertainty, the cool gel already squeezed onto his fingers. Minho gives the older man an affirmative nod to go ahead.
Jinki moves his arm.
Minho gasps.
Jinki is quick to freak at the reaction but Minho stops the man from running away by grasping Jinki’s wrist and urging him to continue. He helps to guide the thick finger deeper inside him, and fuck it feels weird but Minho acquiesces, knowing that his response is much more controlled than the hyperventilating his hyung was doing only minutes prior.
“Second finger.”
“What?” Jinki blanches, eyes fixated in a strange sort of terror on his hand and Minho’s tight entrance. “Are you sure?”
“Then how long do you propose we stay like this?” Minho retorts, feeling irritation bubble up unintentionally, which really should be forgiven all things considered.
Dumbly, Jinki does not protest and obeys, deftly inserting another well-lubricated finger. He looks like some cautious resident participating in his first surgery, and although not the most romantic image, Minho thinks the behaviour of his hyung is at least somewhat endearing.
Although his patience is beginning to run thin, and Minho is wondering whether or not this famed g-spot exists, or how much it has to hurt before something can even begin to stimulate his prostate. Feeling those short fingers wriggle inside him, Minho bites his lip, irrationally thinking of conspiracy theories: that all those stories he had heard about anal sex were in fact made for the enjoyment of watching young men suffer.
Minho huffs and arches his neck back as Jinki inserts a third finger.
Fuck those liars!
He was losing it.
“The book,” Jinki refers to, as if it would help his partner’s internal suffering in the slightest, “It said there was a male g-spot. I just have to find it right?”
Minho barely registers the words and just murmurs in feigned agreement, eyes closed as he tries to distract himself, not even wanting to comprehend the twisting motion Jinki was doing down there.
Except such actions leave him vulnerable when it hits Minho hard, the sudden rush of heat shooting up his spine, sensation sending him speechless with a breathy moan.
“Did I find it or was that bad?”
Jinki blinks at him, looking dumbfounded and Minho stares back at the man between his legs.
“Do what you just did, again,” Minho stutters.
And he cannot quite see it but Minho can feel it, Jinki’s fingers jutting at the slightest of angles, not quite as stimulating as the first time, but still enough to have Minho’s hips tremble as he inhales an unsteady intake of oxygen.
“T-That was good,” Minho croaks weakly.
He shuffles forward as Jinki’s fingers withdraw, the man flushed with embarrassment and Minho feeling the same. Minho however, is not as frozen as his hyung and grabs at a condom, tearing it open and leaving Jinki to gawk at him. He may feel slightly humiliated, a little embarrassed at showing Jinki such an exposed side of himself, but after all of that, fuck going back.
Minho’s hand daringly reaches out, long fingers stroking Jinki’s shaft, stirring arousal within the older man whose eyes cloud over. The clear green latex is rolled across Jinki’s erection and Minho leans in for a messy kiss, their tongues tangled with plush lips, pulled and bitten.
“Well get going hyung.”
It’s a cheeky jeer that works perfectly, Minho smiling into the ongoing kiss as Jinki pushes him back onto the bed. Minho uses this advantageous position to slide his hands up the older man’s stomach and marvel at the amount of perspiration this whole endeavour has caused. Jinki’s stomach trembles beneath his finger pads and Minho thinks that for all the discomfort involved, this experience could be very well worth it.
But then there still is the moment of truth, Jinki’s kisses becoming more delicate and soft before the man parts and goes down, giving Minho one last wary glance. Minho’s thighs are lifted and he has to tell himself to control his breathing, oddly enough, finding that his experience in those moments before going on stage or participating in a football match were quite helpful because more than anything, Minho needs to relax.
Especially (breathing: one, two, three), when Minho’s jaw locks together, feeling the tip of the slippery hot shaft prod at his anus. You would think three fingers coated with a generous amount of lube inside him should have been enough preparation, but Minho stupidly reflects on Jinki’s penis size just this moment, like that kid in the locker room who compares his package to everyone else’s as some ritual of self-fulfillment. Technically, Minho was bigger, at least in terms of length, but Jinki more than made up for that in sheer thickness.
With a grunt and eyebrows knitted together, Minho can definitely feel that difference as another few centimetres make their way in... deeper, and deeper. Minho feels dizzy, his body being split in a way he never thought possible, and then it burns, a painful sear that never happened with Jinki’s fingers.
“Minho.”
The grip on his thighs tightens and Minho looks down from his daze, seeing Jinki pushed to the hilt and appearing to be flushed from ear-to-ear.
The older man almost pants, and despite the burning discomfort in his rear, Minho cracks a smile, reaching a hand down to touch the warm ones trembling against his skin.
“Move hyung.”
Jinki shakes his head, looking away from conflicted emotions, guilt Minho imagines.
“It hurts right?” Jinki mumbles. “You don’t say it, but it hurts.”
“Yeah.” Minho does not lie as he speaks soft and sweet. “But I won’t break.”
A small chuckle and Minho lifts his upper body up to clasp Jinki’s cheeks in his hands, drawing the man in for a slow languid kiss. He then shifts his hips, earning a shuddering gasp from Jinki.
“Move hyung. Do what feels good.”
His carefully employed baritone tone does the trick and Jinki snaps, withdrawing before making a quick shallow thrust, followed by another and another.
It sends Minho’s mind reeling as he falls into the sheets, back arching from the sheer force of being pound into. Thankfully, the pain is minimal, instead becoming a dull ache that he was sure he would feel in the morning, but truly, hearing all the noises Jinki was making, Minho particularly enjoying the warm voice splintering at the edges; he could deal with it.
However, Jinki’s plan is not to use Minho’s body for his own gain, and this message is sent loud and clear when the breath is torn from Minho’s lungs, the young man writhing as a warm hand reaches between his legs. Short fingers stroke his neglected member at a frantic pace and the dull feeling of discomfort becomes an afterthought, Minho focusing on the pleasure pulsating between his thighs.
He wants this, he wants it badly.
“Jinki.”
His hyung’s name spills from his lips in a slurred thoughtless rhythm and shakily, Minho reaches up, arms securing themselves just behind Jinki’s back. And despite Minho’s obvious height advantage, their faces can barely meet, unless Jinki slows the pace of his hips. The older man does so precisely, deliberately thrusting at a leisurely pace as their lips and tongues slide past each other, for just-missed and sloppy kisses.
Minho wants to swallow Jinki whole.
“Oh what the fuck.”
The younger man falls back into the sheets once more, parting from the tangle of lips as a familiar sensation of ecstasy shoots up his spine. Apart from the friction already generated from his crotch, Minho breathes deep and heavy as Jinki’s experimentation has paid off, again finding that spot within that makes the younger man’s body flush with fervour. Jinki of course, wastes no time thrusting against this spot again and again, albeit a little too frantically.
It is abrupt, when Minho trembles, eyes fluttering open to find his high cut short as Jinki gives a haggard groan, stiffening and coming prematurely.
The sudden orgasm is over within a matter of seconds and Minho squirms as the softening cock is withdrawn. The sound of a snapping elastic proceeds, Minho imagining the condom being tossed aside, and meanwhile in the very small recesses of his mind, as he stares at the ceiling, Minho cannot help but admit, he is disappointed of it ending so fast.
It is in this dissatisfied state that Jinki falls half-on-top and half-off of him, Minho softly grumbling as the shift in weight applies pressure to his body, his body that is coming to recognize the dreaded pains after being on the receiving end of anal sex. Not to mention that awkwardly enough, Minho as a vibrant youth manages to maintain his aching hard on.
“Minho?”
Minho breathes a sound of acknowledgement at the words breathed against his neck as his own heartbeat slows in the aftermath of Jinki’s orgasm.
“Sorry.”
Minho wants to call Jinki stupid for even thinking an apology was necessary, but his attempt is blindsided as Jinki’s palm encircles his erection. Jinki’s hand moves from top to bottom repeatedly, thumb dipping into the slit of his shaft, and Minho groans as his hips find the energy to thrust back.
His endurance does not last long and Minho comes hard, turning his head to meet Jinki’s lips, moans swallowed and muffled as the older man wrings him dry.
Their kisses last far past the point of afterglow and Minho is not sure he wants it to end, rolling his fatigued body above Jinki’s, grasping the man’s cheek and leaning in for more deep kisses.
Only when Jinki stifles a yawn, hair tousled and looking completely adorable, does Minho stop.
“Tired?” Minho states more rhetorically than anything.
Jinki smiles a big wide goofy grin that nearly makes Minho want to laugh, the older man’s satiated emotions clear as day.
“Sorry.”
Minho flinches upon hearing the unnecessary apology.
“Sorry for making you wait all those years.”
Minho blinks as Jinki stares at him earnestly, warmth radiating from his very being.
Then his hyung laughs, a foolish ridiculous almost giggling laugh.
“But I’m glad I didn’t make you wait this time.”
Minho flushes, being impossibly charmed as he buries his head into Jinki’s shoulder with a muffled cry.
“And you call me cheesy.”
-----
I know this is long-winded and has weird transitions so I am terribly sorry about that but I have been working on this for so long that I am too tired to fix it atm. :'(
Genre: P-W-P
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Onho
Summary: They have waited until they could wait no longer.
A/N: Over 6000 words. This is pretty much an excuse for me to write gratuitous, awkward smut for my otp. There are a couple inside jokes in here since I am thinking about making random stories of stages in their relationship... But who knows if it will actually happen.
They are staring at each other, sitting cross-legged and stark naked in the glow of a pink spherical nightlight, a five dollar find from Ikea.
It seemed like a cute idea at the time when they were shopping and Jinki was giddy with delight, star struck from the wonders of the lighting department of the ingenious global corporation. But as of now with the girly-hued tones and flowery shapes falling over their bare skin in the dark of night, the coveted light only seemed to be mocking them. It was because this situation was really serious, serious enough for Minho to notice Jinki bite his lips more than the customary once-every-sixteen-minutes.
Yes, he had counted.
That is what you do when you are in love, especially when you have been in love for three years (or maybe longer): the first year a rush of courage, shattered by a failed confession and the attempt to move on; the second year a drunken declaration from the person who rejected you with the misery-inducing statement “I was scared - you’re a guy”; and finally the third year where the patches of your heart are mended, bursting at the seams as he pushes the breath out of your lungs with a hug, whispering, “I’m sorry for making you wait, but I think I love you.”
Promptly, this is the kind of scenario that should bring along months and months of puppy love, but after three years of tossing and turning from sleepless nights, Minho should have known it would not go so easily. They have only been an official (but not-so-official) in the closet couple for two months now and were already facing the dilemma that so many Korean couples face. At the age of 26, Jinki was sent a notice to enlist to the army.
He has one week and the government is unwilling to push back the date, probably from all the backlash of the public calling favouritism for idols. Thankfully, the company decides to handle the paperwork and all Jinki is told to do is pack his bags and relax for his remaining days. He does just that, conveniently so in their small apartment for two. Roommates or at least that is what they told everyone a month ago when Jinki decided to move into Minho’s quaint 800 square feet home.
Yet this situation almost leaves Minho wanting to laugh as they had just finished unpacking all of Jinki’s belongings. Now those possessions are littered across the floor again, only to be stacked and headed straight back into a suitcase.
He is frustrated, impatient, and tired, with reason of course, but Minho still wonders if he is warranted for rushing things with his sudden suggestion; his sudden suggestion that leaves Jinki reluctantly complying. Nevertheless, at the present moment, the two are unmoving, sitting on their bed adorned with Spongebob Squarepants sheets (a housewarming gift from Kibum).
“Am I taking things too fast?” Minho breaks the silence, reaching out to touch Jinki’s arm. “I mean we haven’t done this before and well, it’s probably difficult.”
Difficult is of course the gentlest way of putting it, when Minho tries to not get discouraged, watching Jinki’s eyes dart about, pupils only stopping for the briefest of milliseconds to glance at Minho’s crotch.
Sadly, that is why Minho had proposed stripping from head-to-toe in the first place, so that there would be no surprises. However with the way his hyung’s eyes practically fall short of bulging out of their sockets, Minho figures his strategy has failed. His lack of womanly parts appears to be a daunting obstacle all the same.
“If it’s too unpleasant-” Another slow descent of cautious words. “-We could always just wait. It’s not like I haven’t waited before.” Minho’s tongue feels thick as he pauses, just catching onto his thoughtless slip. He shoots a furtive glance to the older man who in response visibly flinches and twiddles his two thumbs together.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Jinki assures, speaking timidly for the first time since they began, his eyelids fluttering in the process. “I want to see this through...”
Before I leave for two years, Minho imagines as the words trail off. And there is no doubt that he wants to believe his hyung, believe that the man wants to go through with this; however, at the current moment, Minho cannot feel anything but discouraged.
Except that attitude was completely wrong, Minho shaking his head in an attempt to dispel his pessimism: a trait that never helped him the long run. If he looked at the bright side of things, perhaps Minho should consider it a sign that at the very least Jinki was not running away, considering the man used to escape while squeaking incoherent excuses when Minho tried to nonchalantly initiate a kiss.
This had to be a sign of something, right?
“I believe you hyung,” Minho states calmly (a flat out lie), while stealthily strategizing for some sort of tactic to not lose the opportunity before him. “But we have a problem now. How do we start?”
Sure they are naked, sure they are on a bed, and sure they have a whole night but no, despite cliché expectations, these factors alone do not equate to sex. For one, Minho notices with a tinge of humiliation, out of the two of them he is the only one who shows any sign of arousal, and Jinki in stark contrast is as flaccid as can be. Although this reaction is not surprising, as Minho knows from years of guy talk in a dorm of five men, Jinki likes a girl with a good rack.
Minho subconsciously glances down at his very naked self and stops himself short from sighing. He may workout with pecs as a decent result, but really they did not amount to so much... well- boobage. Having a defined abdomen is no additional help, and suddenly Minho feels very self conscious.
In a pitiful instant Minho swings his arms forward, a poor cover over his lean muscles. For usually being so confident about his looks, the young man is not used to the sudden thought in his head that all his testosterone has in fact made him quite hideous.
“You think you need to hide yourself?” An exclamation of disbelief and Jinki’s jaw drops. “You are the gorgeously tall one with chocolate abs! Mine melted two weeks ago!”
And finally in this moment, Jinki tears his gaze from the sheets and looks straight into Minho’s eyes. Of course, this eye contact is not brought upon by the romantic attraction that he imagined the night would bring, but somehow it leaves Minho wanting to smile anyway. He does so precisely, holding up a hand to his lips, hiding a snicker at the ridiculousness of his hyung and the realization that they are both insecure.
Jinki is embarrassed for his abrupt admission and he blushes, slinking back into himself.
“So you think I am gorgeous hyung?” Minho cannot help but prod as his irritating smirk becomes a permanent fixation on his face.
“Have I ever said you were ugly?” Jinki grumbles, staring earnestly at the younger man as Minho leans in far beyond any regard of personal space. “And weren’t you the one who self-declared yourself as the most handsome member of Shinee?”
“And weren’t you the one who said to be a good leader, you have to be handsome?” Minho chides quickly, inclined close enough to feel Jinki’s breath on his nose.
Jinki frowns. “Are you flirting with me or being a smart mouth?”
“Well you know how to deal with both of those situations right?” Minho grins, at last feeling the heavy atmosphere of tension peel away.
“I do, especially after your lessons on reading erotica at midnight.”
Jinki looks cross and Minho brightly provides the most nauseating but innocent smile he can muster.
“I’ll make you shut up Choi Minho.”
The space between them closes, Jinki’s arms reaching around Minho’s shoulders, the man slipping easily into his lap as their lips press together with a simple insistent kiss. Minho hums softly in response; his fingers naturally reaching up to press at the bones of Jinki’s spine one by one, pulling their bodies flush against one another.
Minho opens his mouth and gladly obliges the invading tongue dipping just behind his bottom teeth. So much better than the first time in a backstage closet, where they had gotten the angles all wrong, teeth clicking and noses bumping.
Minho lets the reminiscent thought sink in as he smiles to himself, hands sliding down Jinki’s sides and finger pads gliding down the warm skin. He relishes feeling his hyung shiver before Jinki parts and stares at Minho with hooded eyes.
“Is this a good start?” Jinki asks with a modest smile, his hands pressing against the dark curled locks framing Minho’s neck. “You’d think we could have figured out this part ten minutes ago.”
“Well it’s much better now that you have actually had a reaction.”
Jinki scrunches his nose, not quite understanding Minho’s statement. Nonetheless, the younger man finds himself creepily elated and far from discouraged as he feels it graze against his stomach. And as Minho grinds his hips upwards, that is when Jinki catches on to the reality of the situation with a gasp, length erect between his legs. All of this achieved without voluptuous breasts Minho is proud to say.
Still, he does not want to get ahead of himself and Minho asks with a quiet sincerity, “Do you want to keep going?”
Jinki hisses and Minho furrows his brows, not finding the noise an expected response to his question, even if it did sound pleasant. Then the man glares at him, motioning with his eyes downward where Minho blushes, catching sight of his hands, having already moved past Jinki’s stomach and stroking at darkened nipples. Minho’s eyes widen as he withdraws his hands, just short of completely molesting his boyfriend.
“S-sorry.” A late apology to say the least.
Jinki seems to take pity, with a small appreciative glance before averting his gaze. “Well since it seems you have no intention of stopping-” Minho flinches from embarrassment as the older man speaks. “And well neither do I...” Minho blinks, looking towards Jinki. “Isn’t that what we are supposed to do?”
Jinki’s cheeks are dusted pink as he gnaws on his bottom lip, eyebrows knit closely together.
“I mean we should do what feels good right?”
And Minho barely stops his heart from jumping, because if there was any meaning to catch, it was that these words held the implications that what Minho was doing, felt good.
It is definitely more than a start and with a bit of assertion, Minho places his hands back on Jinki’s pale skin, watching closely for his hyung’s reactions, which at the very least lacked a sense of objection. Far from it in fact as Minho wets his lips, daringly rubbing the palm of his hand over a pert nipple, Jinki in response pressing his lips into a thin line. Then Minho feels it, the constant pound against his hands, his hyung’s heartbeat shooting rapid fire.
Minho’s cheeks flush red.
Maybe he was not as repulsive to Jinki as he thought.
But the thought is not allowed to linger in his mind as Minho finds his backside colliding with the sheets. He is pushed straight over the Spongebob print and before Minho can comprehend how it wigs him out to have those large googly eyes staring at him, a groan escapes his lips; Jinki’s cock slides against his own, shooting a throbbing tingle between his legs.
“F-fuck hyung.”
A huff from the older man whose hands fall on Minho’s chest, fingers curling just beneath distinct collarbones. “It was getting uncomfortable- down there.” Jinki seems embarrassed, Minho imagines not only for the horny outburst due to the obvious hard on, but also because his hyung has other things on his mind, for example, a full view of Minho’s naked body.
Yet again, he can see it, a repetition of Jinki scanning his body, but for some reason, Minho feels less self-conscious. This courage allows him to move his hands towards a sensitive area and as expected, Jinki shakes when Minho’s fingers press into his behind. Yet the action is not without reason and Minho uses the grip to his advantage, pulling Jinki forward and sliding their lengths together once again, earning a panting breath from the older man.
“You said it yourself hyung,” explains Minho, his own heartbeat jumping as he stares upwards, “We should do what feels good.”
Jinki gives Minho a testy look, annoyed at having his own words shot back at him, but he nods anyway. Knees bent and placed on both sides of Minho’s hips, the older man chews his lips together before nervously leaning forwards and setting a slow tempo, pressing their erections together.
And for certain their inexperience shows as Jinki manages to aim at all the wrong places: cocks sliding past one another and hip bones jutting into skin at painful angles. All the same, the two aim their bodies to look for that pleasurable sensation that burns with intensity when done right. It makes any awkward moment easily overlooked and perhaps a little laughable.
With everything considered, seeing where they started, Minho thinks it is much simpler than they imagined, Minho panting beneath his hyung, enjoying the view of Jinki’s straining body and parted lips.
‘Do what feels good’ would become his new motto no doubt.
As such, Minho follows that bit of wisdom, holding back a moan and reaching forward with one hand. He wraps long fingers around their erections, adding to the slick sensation of heat and hopefully, reducing the awkward bump of hips. Minho’s other hand slides against Jinki’s chest and the man cannot seem to bear it, head lulling forward from the sudden accumulation of pleasure. Jinki’s head slips into the dip between Minho’s neck and shoulder, and it sends a thrill shaking down Minho’s spine as Jinki groans, thrusting into his stroking hand.
“Hyung-” Minho’s breath hitches, feeling a familiar but not entirely familiar wave of ecstasy pulse between his legs, so much better than his experiences near climax, masturbating alone in a bathroom stall. “Hyung, I’m going to come soon.”
Except that it might just be too soon, Minho writhing with a hitched breath, feeling his hips jerking up into the rush of heat as orgasm washes over him. His brain stalls for what feels like eternity and only when the warm sensation clouding his mind dissipates, only then does Minho notice with an unfocused vision that he has come alone; Jinki erect and oddly enough, stationary above him.
Minho blinks in an attempt to chase away his daze, staring down at the trail of white droplets across his abdomen, his empty palm with fingers folding in and out, his softening cock, then past his hyung’s crotch and up to Jinki’s eyes.
Jinki is staring at him, red from ear-to-ear.
“Ah shit,” Minho exclaims feeling the heat rushing to his own cheeks as he props himself up on his elbows and looks apologetically at Jinki. “I came kind of fast; I should have held back or something-”
Again, Minho feels insecurity ebbing away at him as the rush of worry crowds his mind. There was no question, there was just no question; Jinki saw him orgasm. Was it gross? Did he look like some fast horny teen?
“I was thinking, I should do what a boyfriend- no, partner would do right?”
The mild assertion is not what Minho expects as Jinki inches forward, still clearly embarrassed and struggling over some issue while resorting to avoiding eye contact. Yet Minho cannot for the life of him figure out what his hyung is up to as he watches Jinki kneel above his thighs, licking wet lips nervously. Minutes pass in this position, Minho watching Jinki inhale steady breaths as if in preparation, leaving the younger man unsure if he should interrupt his hyung. But Minho decides against it, instead opting for patience as the better course of action.
So it comes as a jolt to his senses when cold fingers trail a ghostly line up his thighs. It takes all of Minho’s self control not to tremble before those short fingers reach his abdomen, where Jinki does the unthinkable, touching the droplets of semen, dragging the wetness across his stomach before bringing the pearly liquid towards plush lips. Minho tries not to splutter, watching the act unfold, Jinki tasting the ejaculate with a hesitant lick.
His cock hardens again.
Then Jinki scrunches his face in displeasure.
“How am I supposed to s-suck you off if it’s like that?”
If it is possible to feel such things simultaneously, Minho wants to hide in a hole from complete mortification while laughing in hysteria from the ridiculousness of it all.
“Hyung I never asked you to,” Minho manages to croak out, observing panic set in to his not-so-eloquent boyfriend. “You never had to give me- head.” It makes Minho blush, saying the words aloud. “I don’t even know where you got that idea from.”
“A book.”
Awkward confession to say the least.
“I mean this is completely new to me.” Jinki runs his hands through his hair, gaze fixated on the sheets once again in his humiliation. “I only get the grasp of how a guy and girl work thanks to school but never mind including romance, and then... Then this happens.”
This, Minho supposes, meaning when Jinki found out he was not as straight as first presumed.
“They should make better instruction manuals or something.” Beside Minho, Jinki closes in on himself grumbling, head hiding under folded arms and knees bent beneath his chin. “I’m such an idiot.” And then there is a muffled sniffle.
“Oh come on hyung, are you crying?” Minho scrambles up to his knees, smiling to himself as Jinki manages to convey a maturity far less than his 26 years.
“It’s called sweating from the eyes Minho,” Jinki retorts, struggling as the younger man pries his arms apart.
“Jinki hyung,” Minho returns, “We were jacking off, not working out. You shouldn’t sweat so profusely that it comes out of your tear ducts.”
“Smart mouth.”
“Better than having a lack of articulation.” Minho chuckles, raising his palms to smear off a few of the salty tears from Jinki’s cheeks. If anything, the action seems to make Jinki more distressed, the man sobbing from a self-destructive mode of being overwhelmed, and for a very minor reason in Minho’s opinion.
“Hyung, we don’t have to go that fast.”
Minho cannot help it as he leans in, kissing Jinki’s cheeks softly, lips moving across the damp skin. His hyung always did this, struggling too hard to meet an unachievable goal within a small period of time then breaking down. It was strange to him, but Minho always admired that trait, because Jinki could do the impossible sometimes, although in this case, not quite so.
“But I’m a guy so I should know some of this stuff already.”
He listens to the weak protest; Minho delighted as Jinki arches his neck back to return Minho’s kisses, gentle presses of the lips.
“I shouldn’t be freaking out like this.”
The kisses become more insistent: Jinki’s arms wrapping around Minho’s neck, Minho’s fingers stroking down Jinki’s thighs.
“I mean it’s not like I’ve never touched my own dick before, so yours shouldn’t be some great mystery.”
Jinki pants between the words, Minho tongue sliding past his jawbone, down a pulsing artery. Then Jinki can feel it, the younger man’s smirk pressed against his skin.
“I can do it first hyung, since well, I am the gay one in this relationship.”
The joke falls on sensitive ears and Jinki readies a protest but halts abruptly, short of choking with a sound crossed between a sob and squeak escaping his throat.
Minho grins at this pleasing reaction as he leans down, taking Jinki slowly into his mouth, inch by inch. It’s a foreign sensation, a bit repulsive he will not deny, but Minho can forgive that as he decides to take a chance and move his tongue against the underside of Jinki’s full cock. The man makes that strange strangled noise again with a litany of curses and Minho’s name; truly, the sounds of a symphony that Minho would gladly put on repeat.
Then the sucking begins, horrid slurping noises and all, but for such primitive actions, Minho enjoys the reward: his hyung’s flushed cheeks and look of utter incoherency. Minho cannot help but feel aroused at the cost of his slight discomfort: hair pulled by anxious hands and head backing up to avoid being gagged by an over stimulated man. This was definitely Jinki’s first blowjob.
That is why, when Minho really starts to set a pace, working along his hyung’s cock, sucking, nibbling and sending the man into hysterics; he is startled when Jinki tugs at his hair, telling him, “S-stop.”
Minho does so immediately, rising and looking into Jinki’s eyes with thumb wiping saliva and precum from his lips. Did he do something wrong?
Apparently, Jinki catches onto that quick thought of insecurity and refutes it, shaking his head with flushed cheeks and quickened breaths.
“If you keep going,” Jinki says softly, gnawing his bottom lip, “I don’t think I could recover for a round two.” The man then proceeds to direct a look towards Minho’s own erection after his embarrassing admittance. “I wouldn’t want to leave yours - like that.”
It is an oddly touching statement in its own right, but Minho does not agree. “I could have just finished off in the bathroom.”
His suggestion however, does not seem to fly so well as Jinki gives the younger man a gods forbid look.
Minho stares dumbly back. “Then what do you want to do?”
Jinki bites his lip again before reaching for Minho’s hand, pulling it forward until it touches a discreet place. Minho swallows. This answer is more than direct.
His fingers graze against the older man’s anus and Minho panics for a brief second, thinking about every biology lesson in school and every comprehensive talk with gay men he has ever had simultaneously. It is physically safe if done right, there is nothing wrong with it and Minho knows that, but ironically every homophobic stereotype flies through his head: haemorrhoids, colorectal diseases and all.
Thankfully, Jinki moves about, shuffling above the sheets and effectively snapping Minho from his disparaging thought process. The older man opens the night cabinet beside the bed and Minho feels mortification drain all the blood from his face.
Jinki withdraws from the second drawer a copy of The Little Prince, shifts about a worn album (their first release to be precise), and carefully moves Minho’s prized autographed photo with the Korean’s Men Football Team, before finding Minho’s “secret stash.” That stash is made up of several condoms and a bottle of KY jelly that Minho bought after exploring a website called condom jungle, a memory he would rather forget.
“I saw you put it in here,” Jinki explains with an embarrassed gaze, “When you seemed really weird a couple of weeks ago. I guess I should thank you... for being prepared.”
“Uh, right.”
The bottle of lubricant falls into Minho’s hands and Jinki looks at him with nervous expectation.
Funny how the world works, for years Minho jacking off to the image of having his hyung tremble beneath his touch and despite that, now having the opportunity before him, Minho feeling as if he wanted to run away with his dick between his legs.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have been the one to grab the condom if I wasn’t.”
“Right.”
“But are you not sure?”
“Yes- I mean no. No, of course I am sure. I’m the one who asked you to have sex after dinner.”
“Right.”
Then the cap pops open, Minho inadvertently flicking the bottle open with fumbling fingers, leading to a deafening silence, as if some sacred right of passage were to begin.
The room instantly smells fruity (For some reason in his panic on the online sex-paraphernalia-distributor he had convinced himself “frutti-tutti punch” was best.) and Minho gives Jinki one more quick glance for any sign of disapproval before he squeezes the clear gel onto his fingers. He crawls forward as Jinki stiffens, the man trying to lean backwards and in the process, looking like a solid board snapped in half.
“Hyung, you need to spread your legs.”
Jinki’s thighs are pinned together.
“Oh... yeah.”
The older man moves his knees apart awkwardly; barely enough space for Minho to really get in, although he figures badgering at this point would not help the situation. He grips one of Jinki’s knees, gives a comforting squeeze before aiming his other hand at Jinki’s entrance. This really should not feel like some medical drama.
Then everything goes into tunnel vision.
The cool gel makes Jinki flinch and the man holds back a grunt as Minho pushes a finger in past the tight ring of muscle. That one finger is really all Minho can get in as Jinki almost seems to panic, hands balling into tight fists and teeth grinding together. The pressure on Minho’s hand sends his eyes wide as he looks at the older man, who is shaking and already becoming flushed from head to toe.
“R-relax hyung.”
“I-I am,” Jinki wheezes unconvincingly, “Oh gods what did that book say again about breathing during this part-”
Jinki nearly starts to hyperventilate, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes at the strange intrusion where things really never went up, only down and out.
“Hyung, maybe just count or something. You can do that right?” Minho tries desperately not to panic.
“One, two, one, three, six?” Jinki’s fingers claw into SpongeBob’s eye as oh gods, he can feel a knuckle. “Can you restart for me? Counting?” A pleading squeak.
“This isn’t working.”
Jinki blinks as the foreign sensation leaves his body the bottle of lubricant drops into his hand.
“But I-” Jinki looks ashamed at the realization. “I mean I have to give you something.”
“Oh please hyung.” Minho rolls his eyes and repositions himself, leaning back and propping his body up with his elbows, figuring this change in position as the only viable solution. “You are the only one who would worry about the balance of give and take during sex.”
Minho then shies away, averting his gaze from Jinki’s. “Besides, you are giving me more than you will ever know. I am ecstatic enough having you beside me.”
Jinki groans childishly. “You are so cheesy.”
Minho laughs. “Well then hurry up before I start reciting poems and Pablo Neruda.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Light-hearted with nervous reassuring smiles is what they need as Jinki creeps forward with uncertainty, the cool gel already squeezed onto his fingers. Minho gives the older man an affirmative nod to go ahead.
Jinki moves his arm.
Minho gasps.
Jinki is quick to freak at the reaction but Minho stops the man from running away by grasping Jinki’s wrist and urging him to continue. He helps to guide the thick finger deeper inside him, and fuck it feels weird but Minho acquiesces, knowing that his response is much more controlled than the hyperventilating his hyung was doing only minutes prior.
“Second finger.”
“What?” Jinki blanches, eyes fixated in a strange sort of terror on his hand and Minho’s tight entrance. “Are you sure?”
“Then how long do you propose we stay like this?” Minho retorts, feeling irritation bubble up unintentionally, which really should be forgiven all things considered.
Dumbly, Jinki does not protest and obeys, deftly inserting another well-lubricated finger. He looks like some cautious resident participating in his first surgery, and although not the most romantic image, Minho thinks the behaviour of his hyung is at least somewhat endearing.
Although his patience is beginning to run thin, and Minho is wondering whether or not this famed g-spot exists, or how much it has to hurt before something can even begin to stimulate his prostate. Feeling those short fingers wriggle inside him, Minho bites his lip, irrationally thinking of conspiracy theories: that all those stories he had heard about anal sex were in fact made for the enjoyment of watching young men suffer.
Minho huffs and arches his neck back as Jinki inserts a third finger.
Fuck those liars!
He was losing it.
“The book,” Jinki refers to, as if it would help his partner’s internal suffering in the slightest, “It said there was a male g-spot. I just have to find it right?”
Minho barely registers the words and just murmurs in feigned agreement, eyes closed as he tries to distract himself, not even wanting to comprehend the twisting motion Jinki was doing down there.
Except such actions leave him vulnerable when it hits Minho hard, the sudden rush of heat shooting up his spine, sensation sending him speechless with a breathy moan.
“Did I find it or was that bad?”
Jinki blinks at him, looking dumbfounded and Minho stares back at the man between his legs.
“Do what you just did, again,” Minho stutters.
And he cannot quite see it but Minho can feel it, Jinki’s fingers jutting at the slightest of angles, not quite as stimulating as the first time, but still enough to have Minho’s hips tremble as he inhales an unsteady intake of oxygen.
“T-That was good,” Minho croaks weakly.
He shuffles forward as Jinki’s fingers withdraw, the man flushed with embarrassment and Minho feeling the same. Minho however, is not as frozen as his hyung and grabs at a condom, tearing it open and leaving Jinki to gawk at him. He may feel slightly humiliated, a little embarrassed at showing Jinki such an exposed side of himself, but after all of that, fuck going back.
Minho’s hand daringly reaches out, long fingers stroking Jinki’s shaft, stirring arousal within the older man whose eyes cloud over. The clear green latex is rolled across Jinki’s erection and Minho leans in for a messy kiss, their tongues tangled with plush lips, pulled and bitten.
“Well get going hyung.”
It’s a cheeky jeer that works perfectly, Minho smiling into the ongoing kiss as Jinki pushes him back onto the bed. Minho uses this advantageous position to slide his hands up the older man’s stomach and marvel at the amount of perspiration this whole endeavour has caused. Jinki’s stomach trembles beneath his finger pads and Minho thinks that for all the discomfort involved, this experience could be very well worth it.
But then there still is the moment of truth, Jinki’s kisses becoming more delicate and soft before the man parts and goes down, giving Minho one last wary glance. Minho’s thighs are lifted and he has to tell himself to control his breathing, oddly enough, finding that his experience in those moments before going on stage or participating in a football match were quite helpful because more than anything, Minho needs to relax.
Especially (breathing: one, two, three), when Minho’s jaw locks together, feeling the tip of the slippery hot shaft prod at his anus. You would think three fingers coated with a generous amount of lube inside him should have been enough preparation, but Minho stupidly reflects on Jinki’s penis size just this moment, like that kid in the locker room who compares his package to everyone else’s as some ritual of self-fulfillment. Technically, Minho was bigger, at least in terms of length, but Jinki more than made up for that in sheer thickness.
With a grunt and eyebrows knitted together, Minho can definitely feel that difference as another few centimetres make their way in... deeper, and deeper. Minho feels dizzy, his body being split in a way he never thought possible, and then it burns, a painful sear that never happened with Jinki’s fingers.
“Minho.”
The grip on his thighs tightens and Minho looks down from his daze, seeing Jinki pushed to the hilt and appearing to be flushed from ear-to-ear.
The older man almost pants, and despite the burning discomfort in his rear, Minho cracks a smile, reaching a hand down to touch the warm ones trembling against his skin.
“Move hyung.”
Jinki shakes his head, looking away from conflicted emotions, guilt Minho imagines.
“It hurts right?” Jinki mumbles. “You don’t say it, but it hurts.”
“Yeah.” Minho does not lie as he speaks soft and sweet. “But I won’t break.”
A small chuckle and Minho lifts his upper body up to clasp Jinki’s cheeks in his hands, drawing the man in for a slow languid kiss. He then shifts his hips, earning a shuddering gasp from Jinki.
“Move hyung. Do what feels good.”
His carefully employed baritone tone does the trick and Jinki snaps, withdrawing before making a quick shallow thrust, followed by another and another.
It sends Minho’s mind reeling as he falls into the sheets, back arching from the sheer force of being pound into. Thankfully, the pain is minimal, instead becoming a dull ache that he was sure he would feel in the morning, but truly, hearing all the noises Jinki was making, Minho particularly enjoying the warm voice splintering at the edges; he could deal with it.
However, Jinki’s plan is not to use Minho’s body for his own gain, and this message is sent loud and clear when the breath is torn from Minho’s lungs, the young man writhing as a warm hand reaches between his legs. Short fingers stroke his neglected member at a frantic pace and the dull feeling of discomfort becomes an afterthought, Minho focusing on the pleasure pulsating between his thighs.
He wants this, he wants it badly.
“Jinki.”
His hyung’s name spills from his lips in a slurred thoughtless rhythm and shakily, Minho reaches up, arms securing themselves just behind Jinki’s back. And despite Minho’s obvious height advantage, their faces can barely meet, unless Jinki slows the pace of his hips. The older man does so precisely, deliberately thrusting at a leisurely pace as their lips and tongues slide past each other, for just-missed and sloppy kisses.
Minho wants to swallow Jinki whole.
“Oh what the fuck.”
The younger man falls back into the sheets once more, parting from the tangle of lips as a familiar sensation of ecstasy shoots up his spine. Apart from the friction already generated from his crotch, Minho breathes deep and heavy as Jinki’s experimentation has paid off, again finding that spot within that makes the younger man’s body flush with fervour. Jinki of course, wastes no time thrusting against this spot again and again, albeit a little too frantically.
It is abrupt, when Minho trembles, eyes fluttering open to find his high cut short as Jinki gives a haggard groan, stiffening and coming prematurely.
The sudden orgasm is over within a matter of seconds and Minho squirms as the softening cock is withdrawn. The sound of a snapping elastic proceeds, Minho imagining the condom being tossed aside, and meanwhile in the very small recesses of his mind, as he stares at the ceiling, Minho cannot help but admit, he is disappointed of it ending so fast.
It is in this dissatisfied state that Jinki falls half-on-top and half-off of him, Minho softly grumbling as the shift in weight applies pressure to his body, his body that is coming to recognize the dreaded pains after being on the receiving end of anal sex. Not to mention that awkwardly enough, Minho as a vibrant youth manages to maintain his aching hard on.
“Minho?”
Minho breathes a sound of acknowledgement at the words breathed against his neck as his own heartbeat slows in the aftermath of Jinki’s orgasm.
“Sorry.”
Minho wants to call Jinki stupid for even thinking an apology was necessary, but his attempt is blindsided as Jinki’s palm encircles his erection. Jinki’s hand moves from top to bottom repeatedly, thumb dipping into the slit of his shaft, and Minho groans as his hips find the energy to thrust back.
His endurance does not last long and Minho comes hard, turning his head to meet Jinki’s lips, moans swallowed and muffled as the older man wrings him dry.
Their kisses last far past the point of afterglow and Minho is not sure he wants it to end, rolling his fatigued body above Jinki’s, grasping the man’s cheek and leaning in for more deep kisses.
Only when Jinki stifles a yawn, hair tousled and looking completely adorable, does Minho stop.
“Tired?” Minho states more rhetorically than anything.
Jinki smiles a big wide goofy grin that nearly makes Minho want to laugh, the older man’s satiated emotions clear as day.
“Sorry.”
Minho flinches upon hearing the unnecessary apology.
“Sorry for making you wait all those years.”
Minho blinks as Jinki stares at him earnestly, warmth radiating from his very being.
Then his hyung laughs, a foolish ridiculous almost giggling laugh.
“But I’m glad I didn’t make you wait this time.”
Minho flushes, being impossibly charmed as he buries his head into Jinki’s shoulder with a muffled cry.
“And you call me cheesy.”
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I know this is long-winded and has weird transitions so I am terribly sorry about that but I have been working on this for so long that I am too tired to fix it atm. :'(