Three's A Crowd (1/2)
Title: Three's A Crowd (1/2)
Pairing: Onew/Taemin, voyeur!Jonghyun
Length: 17,000w
Summary: "It wasn't like anyone said it out loud, that it was a threesome. But of course it was. What else?"
T H R E E ' S A C R O W D
"You're staring again."
Taemin snapped his gaze away from the waiter. He looked down at his lap and mumbled, mianhae, but he wasn't sorry; not really. Jinki knew that the moment the waiter came back with the bill, Taemin's eyes would make a triangle across the man's broad shoulders and down, and then Taemin would imagine what it'd be like for the waiter to bend him over the table and plough him hard.
To be honest, now Jinki was imagining it too.
"Would you suck him off?" Jinki asked. "Quick and dirty in the bathroom?"
Taemin sucked in a breath. "Hyung," he whispered. "Stop it."
"What? I want to know, out of curiosity. Would you?"
Taemin was sinking into his seat, staring heatedly at Jinki from under his fringe. His cheeks were so dark. More aroused or embarrassed, it was hard to say. "Can we not?"
Jinki watched Taemin's face for a moment, deciding if that meant not now or not at all. Jinki had just picked Taemin up from school, and they had all evening to themselves - the other members had a radio schedule - so they could afford to take their time, wait until they got back home, at least. But then Taemin had given the waiter that look, and Jinki felt a possessive instinct rising in the back of his throat, not entirely unpleasant. It was something that couldn't wait. Taemin must have felt the heat of Jinki's stare, because he lifted his drink with shaking hands. Instead of sipping he rested the edge of the glass against his lip.
"Just drink it, aegi," Jinki sighed. It was more a request than a demand, but Taemin obeyed and gulped the rest of his water back, throat rising and falling as he swallowed. Taemin's bobbing throat wasn't something that Jinki could watch in public without drawing attention to them, so he averted his eyes to the front desk where their waiter was flirting with the hostess.
It wasn't hard to see why the guy caught Taemin's eye. He was average height, average build, but there was a severe slant to his eyebrows that made him look a little mean. He looked a little like Jonghyun, now that Jinki thought about it. "He looks like a dirty talker," Jinki mused as Taemin set his empty glass down.
Taemin was flushing and shaking his head, but he was still watching Jinki's face like his next breath depended on it. Jinki stared back, and after a moment Taemin's eyes dropped. His teeth scraped over his lower lip.
"Would you want him calling you filthy things?" Jinki asked. "Slut? Cocksucker? Cumdumpster?"
Taemin laughed awkwardly at that last one, torn between mortified and amused. He glanced to the front desk. The waiter was taking his sweet time with the bill. "Um," Taemin said. "I don't know. I guess so."
"You guess so? Come on, Taeminnie. Help me out."
There was a beat of silence as Taemin fidgeted in his seat. Jinki allowed him the moment; he could see how Taemin was fighting with the words in his head, willing them to come out, but unable to speak over the roar of embarrassment. He always had trouble articulating what he wanted; blame the strict Catholic upbringing. Jinki would get tired of the guessing game if it weren't so fun to watch Taemin squirm and turn every shade of red as Jinki's suggestions got more and more lewd. "He thinks I'm a girl," Taemin squeaked at last.
So that was the game for today. It was one they'd played a lot since Lucifer promotions started, since the hair extensions and the dramatic cat eyeliner and the lip gloss smeared across Taemin's fat lips. Jinki picked up his glass and swirled the last of the liquid in the bottom. Voice low, almost a purr, he said, "Okay, aegi. When the waiter comes back with the bill, I want you to make eye contact. Very deliberately mention a tip, and then excuse yourself to the bathroom. The girls' bathroom. And when you get there, you're going to wait for your waiter-friend in the middle of the floor with your hands behind your neck. Yes?"
Taemin nodded and breathed out with a hoarse sound, not quite a moan. Jinki had to admire the restraint, the way the column of Taemin's throat tensed as he tried to keep the sound in. A man and woman at the next table over were leaning in to talk, faces close; Jinki could see that the couple was oblivious to the restaurant around them, least of all Taemin's near-inaudible whimper, but Taemin didn't know that - all he could hear was an indistinct mumbling from behind him.
"They're talking about you," Jinki said, and jut his chin towards the couple. "Ah-ah, don't turn around, silly. They're looking."
Taemin visibly struggled to stay facing forward. His skin was flushed hot from the sensation of being under a spotlight, like everyone in the restaurrant was staring and knew that he was hiding a hard-on under the tablecloth. "Jinki-hyung, I'm-"
The waiter picked that moment to reappear at the table. He took one look at Taemin's school uniform, and put the bill face-down in front of Jinki.
"I- I'll..." It took so much effort for Taemin to look up. The eye contact with the waiter was fleeting, less of a come-on and more the kind of self-conscious glance someone gives on a crowded bus before quickly looking away. "I'll tip," Taemin whispered.
The waiter frowned in confusion. He probably hadn't heard exactly. He looked at Jinki as if to say, is this kid for real? Trying not to laugh, Jinki waved him away, and the waiter bowed before returning to the pretty girl at the front desk.
Taemin sat there for a moment, willing his body to calm down and not embarrass him on the walk from their table to the bathroom. Jinki put his hand up like he was examing his cuticles, just waiting for Taemin to take a leak; really, he was watching through the gaps in his fingers as Taemin stood stiffly and took the shortest path through the diners. No one even looked up from their food, but Jinki could tell that Taemin was imagining every eye in the place boring into his back. He disappeared around the corner, into the bathroom.
Jinki brought the bill to the front to pay. Although every fibre of his being was dying to rush, he took his time. It was good for Taemin to wait, to anticipate. By the time Jinki got there, Taemin would have himself so riled up that Jinki would hardly have to touch him to make the boy come undone. "I'm just going to wait for my friend," Jinki said, gesturing to the table.
"Take your time," the hostess said, all smiles. "But, um- aren't you Onew, from SHINee? Could I have your autograph?"
Jinki signed the back of a takeout menu for her, and made sure to thank her for excellent service - "I certainly won't forget this place," he assured her, although that would have nothing to do with the food or the service. At the table, Jinki shrugged off his sweater so that he was wearing only the white shirt underneath. The brand was a little expensive to belong to someone on the wait staff, but that was the kind of detail Taemin wouldn't be paying close attention to. It was a near-enough approximation of the uniform the waiter was wearing: black shoes and trousers, white button-up. The only thing missing was the name tag.
The bathroom door wasn't locked, not that Jinki expected it would be. He stepped into the bathroom and pressed the lock behind him. As told, Taemin was standing exactly centre - he must have counted the floor tiles so they were even on either side of him. He had his weight on the balls of his feet, spine straight, eyes downcast, and his hands clasped neatly over the nape of his neck. He whimpered quietly when Jinki came in, more than a little impatient.
"I thought you were kidding about the tip," Jinki said. He tried to make his voice sound different, a little off his usual tone to match the waiter's light tenor. "Usually girls like you... they don't do things like this."
Taemin said nothing. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Who was that guy you were with? Your boyfriend?"
"My..." Taemin started, but Jinki held up a hand to stop him.
"Don't worry about it, beautiful. He won't know. You're just 'freshening up', right? We'll be quick." Jinki wasn't sure when this waiter character acquired a dialect, but Taemin didn't seem to mind. He gasped when Jinki closed the gap between them, and his eyelashes fluttered as he peeked up at Jinki's face. "You mind if I kiss you?" Jinki asked.
"No."
Jinki laughed against Taemin's lips. "Shameless."
He kissed dirty, shoving his tongue into Taemin's mouth and biting at his lips, never letting Taemin get a proper breath.
"Bet your boyfriend loves your mouth," Jinki said, and Taemin hummed in agreement. He had one hand resting ready against Jinki's belt, but without permission he wouldn't pull the buckle. Jinki started backing them towards the counter, pushing between Taemin's knees, and Taemin hoisted himself onto the lip of the sink with a quiet, needy, oppa.
"Should I fuck you here, dirty girl? Should I-" Jinki trailed off when he felt Taemin's erection press against his stomach. He tried to school his face into an expression of shocked disgust and took a half-step back, leaving Taemin unbalanced on the counter with flushed cheeks and parted lips.
"Oppa?" Taemin whispered.
Jinki shook his head. "You trying to trick me?"
"I-"
"Thought I wouldn't notice? You think I'm stupid? Do I look like I'm into guys?"
Taemin slid down from the counter and sank to his knees. He was shaking his head, lips moving without sound: please, I wasn't, sorry, sorry. Jinki almost slipped out-of-character at the sight: Taemin looked so contrite as he scrambled to kneel at Jinki's feet, bowing until his forehead nearly touched the dirty bathroom floor. He looked up at the sound of Jinki unbuckling his belt.
"Come here, cocksucker. This is what you wanted, right?"
Taemin shuffled closer and braced his hands on Jinki's thighs. Before Jinki could even get his cock out, Taemin was nuzzling into his fly, his breath hot as he panted over the hard line of Jinki's cock, "Oh, please, yesyesyes."
Jinki breathed out slowly through his nose as Taemin mouthed the head of his cock through his boxers, getting the cotton wet with his hot breath and tongue. "Jesus, you're eager," Jinki groaned.
He grabbed Taemin's hair to hold him back long enough to get his cock free, and when he let go Taemin didn't waste any time in teasing. He wrapped his pretty lips around Jinki's cock and sucked eagerly, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he bobbed his head. He whined when Jinki stepped back, momentarily separating them, but Jinki only needed to rest his shoulders against the wall for leverage. With the heels of his palms pressed into either cheek, Jinki guided Taemin back to his cock and held him there. He pushed into Taemin's mouth, past his teeth, and thrust his hips experimentally; when Taemin didn't protest, just whimpered and rolled his eyes back, Jinki kept going. He fucked Taemin's mouth rather thoughtlessly until Taemin gagged and pulled back. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, tears and spit shining under the fluorescent light.
"Problem?" Jinki asked. He spoke in character, the supposedly-straight water, but he was watching Taemin carefully for any sign that he wasn't enjoying this as much as Jinki. Taemin shook his head, "no," he whispered, and leaned forward to press a reverent kiss against the head of Jinki's cock. Taemin could barely sit still, so turned-on, so visibly hard; the trousers of his uniform left nothing to the imagination.
"Oppa, can I touch myself while I...?"
"No fucking way," Jinki said. "I don't wanna see some other guy's dick. Shut up and finish what you started."
With a frustrated little groan, Taemin swallowed Jinki's cock down again. He couldn't get the whole thing into his mouth, not in this position, so he used one hand to cover what wouldn't fit, quickly getting his fingers sticky with spit. On the upstroke, Taemin's lips left Jinki's cock with a loud slurp, and Jinki shuddered and scratched at Taemin's scalp every time.
"Fuck, Tae-" Jinki forgot to speak satoori for a moment, forgot they were in the girls' restroom in a public restaurant. He was so close to coming he could taste it. All it took was the whisper of Taemin's lips over his slit, oppa, I can't wait to taste you, want you to come down my throat, oppa, plea-ea-ea-ease, and Jinki came undone. He shoved his fist into his mouth to muffle the groan he just couldn't keep down, and with his other hand twisted into Taemin's hair, he came deep and hard against the back of Taemin's throat.
For a full minute, Jinki couldn't do anything but let his weight sag against the tiled wall. "Sucked the life out of me, aegi," he joked.
Taemin rested his cheek against Jinki's thigh. He was moving his hips back-and-forth, trying to get some friction against the erection tented in his pants. "Hyung," he whined. "Help."
Jinki offered a hand to pull Taemin to stand. When they were level, he licked at Taemin's mouth and tasted himself on the younger boy's tongue. "We have all day," he reminded him. "And I don't think you're anywhere near desperate yet."
Jinki felt Taemin's indignant huff against his neck. "But hyung, how am I supposed to walk to the car like this?"
Jinki reached between Taemin's legs to cup his hard cock under his palm. Taemin's breath whistled through his lips as he tried to keep down an embarrassing moan, Jinki's fingers pressing just hard enough to make him stand on tip-toe, trying for more pressure. He clutched at Jinki's shoulders and whispered a premature thank you thank you, thinking that Jinki had taken pity on him.
Taemin whined loud as Jinki let his hand drop and pressed a kiss against Taemin's open mouth. "You just stay close to me, aegi," he said. "I won't let anybody see."
~
Jonghyun felt a twinge of remorse for stretching the truth. He did have a headache. Kind of. It wasn't anything so bad that it required medication and bedrest, but he didn't have a hard time convincing the manager otherwise. He dug the heel of his palm into his eye, drooped against window, and when Minho asked if he was feeling sick, Jonghyun answered in the most strained and pathetic voice he could muster, "No, I'm fine."
The manager's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. "Jonghyun?"
Key was sitting shotgun, and he turned around to stare at the lead singer slumped in his seat. Jonghyun could feel Key's eyes on him like a laser beam, but after a minute, Key turned around and said nothing. He probably knew that Jonghyun wasn't that sick, but he wasn't going to say so either.
"Jonghyun?" The manager asked again.
"I'm fine," Jonghyun rasped, again in that so-sick-I-can-barely-speak voice.
"You don't sound like it." The manager seemed a little irritated by that possibility, but not unreceptive.
"Well," Jonghyun said. He tried to sound really conflicted. Like the last thing in the world that he wanted was to go home and rest when there was a schedule. "I do have a bit of a headache. It's not so bad. I just feel a little..." Here, Jonghyun trailed off and pressed his hands to his cheeks. He made it look like he was trying to push the pressure of the headache back into his skull, but when he lowered his hands the blood rushed back into his face and gave him a flushed, fevered look.
Key was staring again, eyes narrowed.
"Maybe you shouldn't push it," the manager said. No doubt he was thinking about the last time Jonghyun was sick, that high fever, how he'd left practice in an ambulance. "Why don't we drop you off back at the dorm? Onew and Taemin will be there if you need anything, and Key and Minho can go ahead without you."
Jonghyun started to shake his head, opened his mouth to say, no, really, I'm fine.
"If you're not feeling well, hyung, you should rest," Minho said.
Any more insisting, and they'd drag him along. So Jonghyun just nodded not-quite-glumly, leaned his non-existent headache against the cool of the window glass, and kept his eyes closed until they pulled in front of the dorm.
The door was locked; that was unusual. When someone was in, they tended to leave the door open so that the others could come and go without scrambling for keys. Onew and Taemin must have gone downstairs - Taemin probably dragged the leader to the practice room to go over dance steps, or they were up on the roof doing whatever it was they did up there. Jonghyun's keys were in the bottom of his backpack, so he upended the whole thing to find them, and then shoved everything back in, crumpling lyric sheets and radio scripts.
After letting himself inside, Jonghyun set his bag down by the door, stepped out of his shoes, and walked through to the kitchen. He had his hand on the cupboard to get a drink of water when he heard a whine, almost like someone crying. He dropped his hand to his side. What the...?
He took two steps back, leaning to see through the doorway. He didn't know what he expected to be the source of the sound, but it certainly wasn't what he saw:
Taemin was face-down on the couch, arms bound behind his back with rope from wrist to elbow. The striped tie of his school uniform was looped around his head as a makeshift blindfold, and his button-down shirt was bunched around his armpits to show the whole of his back, each bump in his spine in high relief as he arched and curved his spine. His pants were missing. Girls' panties, simple pink little things, were pushed down his thighs. A black cord trailed between his legs like a tail, and gave off a faint buzzing sound.
Taemin lifted his head and asked, voice quavering, "Jin... Jinki-hyung?"
"I'm here, Taemin-ah." Onew came into the room from the hall. He was fully-clothed, but unbuttoned, with his cock hanging out from his fly heavy and thick. "I'm just-"
Jonghyun made a strangled noise and took a step back as Onew's gaze settled on him fully. There was a long and tense moment, silent except for the buzz of the vibrator and Taemin's quick panting. Onew calmly tucked himself into his pants.
"Hyung?" Taemin asked.
Onew pointed to Jonghyun, and then put his finger to his lips: be quiet. Jonghyun nodded, and watched as Jinki went into the living room and kneeled beside Taemin. He ran his hand from the top of Taemin's spine to the cleft of his ass, but rather than soothe him, the touch seemed to agitate Taemin even more. He tossed his head and asked again, in a barely-there voice, hyung?
"I'm here, aegi," Onew said. His voice didn't sound anything like the Onew that Jonghyun knew. If he couldn't see that it was Onew right there in front of him, Jonghyun would have thought the leader had been replaced by some smooth-voiced imposter. "Be good for me and wait a moment longer," Onew crooned, and Taemin visibly shuddered.
"Hyung," Taemin whined. He pressed his cheek against the cushions and rolled his hips, and for the first time Jonghyun could see the erection he was grinding against the couch. A thin leather band sat firmly at the base of it, and the head looked almost purple, an angry swollen colour. "Hyung, I'm dying."
"Oh, Taemin. You've been so good. And all I'm asking is for a few more minutes. You're not dying. I know it feels that way."
"It hurts," Taemin insisted.
With a thoughtful look, Onew kneeled and examined Taemin's erection. It did look painful, Jonghyun thought, and he could see that much from where he was standing. Taemin sobbed at the slightest touch of Onew's finger trailing up the length of him. "You're okay, aegi. I'm sure you are. Do you want me to turn the vibrator off?"
"No," Taemin said, the answer falling from his lips without thought. Although Onew's carress seemed physically painful, he was still canting his hips, seeking the warmth of Onew's hand. "No, hyung, nonono, I want you to let me come."
Onew curled his index finger to his thumb, and Jonghyun winced as he realized what the leader was about to do. Onew flicked the head of Taemin's leaking cock. Not gently. Taemin's arms strained as he fought to pull them forward, and his broken cry echoed loud in the confines of the living room.
"Oh, Taeminnie," Onew sighed. He sounded genuinely disappointed, like he'd come home to find that the dog had chewed his favourite sneakers. Taemin sniffed and mumbled something, the exact words muffled by the cushions. He was drooling all over the couch, mouth hanging open, and his chest heaved as he gulped in air. Jonghyun had ever seen anything like it. Onew must not have liked whatever it was that Taemin said, because he started shaking his head.
"I was thinking I might let you come soon," Onew said. "I was going to take the ring off and fuck you on the couch- would you like that, Taemin-ah?"
"Yessss. Hyung, please, yes yes yes."
"I thought you might. But that's really too bad, then. I don't give in to spoiled boys who can't appreciate what they've been offered. Take some time to reflect, aegi."
With that, Onew stood up and dusted off his pants. He picked up the remote hanging from the vibrator cord, and switched it from the low, constant buzz to a heavy pulse. Taemin was openly weeping now, fighting against the bindings, pleading mindlessly with every breath. Onew walked heavily to the kitchen, letting Taemin hear every step as he moved farther away. He grabbed Jonghyun's elbow, and with his finger to his lips - shh - he scooped up Jonghyun's bag and shoes, and led the both of them outside. The door slammed loud behind him.
In the corridor outside the dorm, away from Taemin, Onew lost that air of authority that he had worn like a new skin. He was flushed and obviously aroused, breathing hard through his nose. "What..." Onew said, and paused for a gulp of air, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I, uh. I had a headache," Jonghyun said. It sounded like such a feeble excuse. And it was; there was no headache to speak of now. Barely one to begin with. "Manager-sshi said that I could skip the radio schedule and come back here to get some sleep."
"You shouldn't milk things like that. Now what if you really do get sick?" Onew ran a hand through his bangs and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling as though asking God for patience, the same upward look he gave when one of the members did something stupid that he would have to take the heat for. "I suppose that means you can't go to the gym or go out now. Someone will see that you're fine."
Jonghyun hadn't even thought of that. "I guess you're right."
"I don't want Taemin to know right now that you saw him. He's very..." Onew paused, trying to think of a word, but ultimately left the sentence unfinished. He cleared his throat and started again. Onew didn't look at Jonghyun when he spoke, but directed his words to the ground. Not ashamed; rather, he was reluctantly sharing something he would have preferred to keep private. "That... was delicate. It would do more harm than good if Taemin knew you came in. Actually, a lot of harm. So pretend you never saw this, and I'll pretend you weren't here. Arasseo?"
Jonghyun didn't understand. But all the same, he nodded. "So what now?"
Onew thought about it for a long moment. "I'm going to tell Taemin that I saw you in the lobby just now. Give me ten minutes, and come inside as though you just got here. Make a lot of noise. When I come out to talk to you, you'll tell me the same thing you told the manager - you have a headache, and you're going to bed. Do so. And don't ever mention this to anyone."
The look on Onew's face was so fiercely protective that Jonghyun couldn't do anything but nod meekly and watch as Onew slipped back into the dorm, shutting him out.
Jonghyun sat down in the hallway and stared at the clock on his cell phone. The front doors to the dormitories were thick, practically sound-proof. Jonghyun strained his ears, but he heard nothing except the hum of voices - and he was pretty sure that came from the TV. After two minutes ticked by, Jonghyun figured he should go downstairs and get something. Paracetamol. No one would question him wandering outside for pain medication.
Jonghyun tried not to think as he walked to the ground floor, just focused on the shuffling movement of his feet from one step to the next. He went to the convenience store, purchased a blister package of paracetamol and a bottle of soda water. He wasn't even rushing, but the entire transaction, including the walk, barely took eight minutes. He was back in front of the dormitory with twenty seconds to spare.
20, 19, 18...
He wondered if Taemin had been wearing those pink panties all day. If he wore them to school. If he sat through his classes with his junk smushed into girls' underwear, shifting uncomfortably as he thought about what he had coming that night. Or not coming, apparently.
Jonghyun recalled an exchange with Onew, two years ago, at least. Maybe more; Taemin had still been dark-haired. That awful bowl cut. Jonghyun came into the living room to find Onew practicing knots on a piece of yellow rope. When Jonghyun asked what for, Onew said he was brushing up on half-forgotten childhood survival skills. Just in case. But now Jonghyun figured it was more likely he'd been practicing how to tie Taemin up. Had he been tying Taemin up back then? Was that something they'd been doing for that long?
13, 12, 11...
It certainly looked like it was something they did often. And the way that Onew had been talking, his voice so low, and how Taemin reacted to it... Taemin was normally so put-together. He never seemed to be affected by anything; he didn't cry, he rarely lost his temper. Even more so than Onew's out-of-character actions, Jonghyun was disturbed by seeing Taemin picked-apart like that. He was sobbing and begging, completely unaware of the world around him. Somehow, he hadn't even heard Jonghyun come in.
9, 8, 7, 6...
I was going to take the ring off and fuck you on the couch, Onew had said. What if Jonghyun came home five minutes later? Would he have walked in to that scene, to Onew shoving his big cock into Taemin's tiny hole as the magnae mewled and pawed at the couch?
Jonghyun felt his cock twitch in his jeans. He wasn't even into guys - well, barring that one time he made out with Key, but they were both very drunk. Key, admittedly, was more grossed out than Jonghyun was, although that might have a lot to do with the fact that Jonghyun had thrown up beer-and-pizza just before. And sure, Jonghyun had jacked off with Minho before. To straight porn, of course. They sat on opposite ends of the couch and whoever sat on the left stroked right-handed to give his cock a bit of privacy. Strictly no touching. Key preferred to do his business in private, but sometimes he'd stand behind the couch and palm the front of his trousers if it was a really hot scene (he liked girls on top). Jonghyun had never really put too much thought into why Onew and Taemin avoided that kind of thing. He'd always figured Onew was a boring prude, and Taemin was too young or too shy to masturbate in front of his hyungs. Obviously, Jonghyun was wrong.
3, 2, 1...
Ten minutes. Jonghyun waited an extra second, just to be sure, and then he opened the door.
This time, the living room was empty. As promised, Jonghyun kicked off his shoes so that they clattered into the wall, dropped his bag heavy on the floor, and called out, "Onew-hyung? Taemin?"
He thought he heard Taemin whimpering in the other room, but it could have been his imagination. Onew came out of the bedroom, calm and composed. Like the entire exchange hadn't just happened. "Jonghyun? Why are you home?"
"I, uh, wasn't feeling well. Manager-sshi sent me back to get some sleep."
Onew nodded. "Oh, okay. Do you need anything? Medication? Water?"
Jonghyun held up the bottle of Paracetamol he just bought and gave it a shake. "No, hyung. I've got it. Just gonna... go lie down for a while."
"Hope it's not something contagious," Onew said. He had his hand on the bedroom door, holding it ajar. "Taemin isn't feeling well, either."
Jonghyun was out of lines. He gave an awkward half-shrug. As he went into the room he shared with Minho, he thought he saw Onew mouth, thank you, but it could have been something else entirely. Onew went back into Taemin's room, closing the door behind him.
The walls weren't so thick that they muffled sound. Instead of getting into bed, Jonghyun crouched down, approximately where Taemin's bed was, and pressed his ear against the wall. He heard the bed shift, and Onew talking in that deep, low voice. Taemin wasn't very loud, probably face-down in the pillows. It was hard to make out the words, but Jonghyun could vividly picture the scene: the bed creaked from the weight of Onew's knees, and then Taemin was wailing into Onew's palm as the leader pushed his big cock inside. Jonghyun could have sworn he heard Taemin say his name - won't Jonghyun hear? - but Onew must have soothed that fear, because then the bed was squealing, and the headboard bumped against the wall. Jonghyun got up and crawled into bed, feeling more than a little confused about the massive hard-on straining in his pants.
He waited until they were done fucking before stroking himself off; it felt a little too dirty to jack to the same rhythm that had Taemin trying not to scream the walls down.
~
Taemin knew what it felt like to be watched. On stage and off, thousands of screaming fans followed his every movement, capturing every change in expression on camera and sharing with fans all over the world - click here to see Taemin-oppa's sneeze!
And then there was the way that Jinki watched him, with all the intensity of a floodlight, his gaze both demanding and reassuring, raking over him like a physical touch. Taemin was used to that.
He was not used to Jonghyun watching.
"Something on my face?"
Jonghyun startled like he'd been slapped. He quickly looked back to the television, attempting to seem engrossed in the commercials flashing by, and Taemin almost didn't believe it- was he blushing? He was!
Taemin grabbed the DVD he came for, and padded back to Jinki's room where his lover was waiting half-asleep on the bed. Jinki noticed his bewildered expression and asked, "Something up, Taemin-ah?"
"Mm." Taemin put the movie on - a horror flick because Key wouldn't question them curled up together in front of a scary movie - and wiggled into the space under Jinki's arm, getting comfy. "Jonghyun-hyung was looking at me funny. Kind of like you do sometimes, when it's been a while."
"You mean like this?" Taemin looked over his shoulder to find Jinki with his eyes crossed and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Taemin elbowed him in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt.
"No, not quite like that, hyung."
"I get you, aegi," Jinki said. He pulled Taemin closer, tucking his knees behind Taemin's and sliding his hand under the oversized tee shirt to rub absently at Taemin's belly. "It's because he saw you earlier today, when he came home."
Taemin frowned. "But I was-"
"No, it was before I took you to the bedroom. He came in while you were on the couch. Caught him standing in the kitchen doorway, staring."
"Hyung!" Taemin grabbed Jinki's wrist to stop the slow-wandering carress of his hand, and twisted to give him an indignant look. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I am telling you. What do you think would have happened if you'd known right then? You like being a little embarrassed, aegi, but not like that. You would have been so upset."
Taemin let go of Jinki's hand with a pout. As always, Jinki was right. By the time Jonghyun walked in, Taemin was deep in a submissive space, touched out from the reality around him and focused entirely on Jinki and the slow, hot burn of his own arousal. He was grouchy enough when Jinki came back inside and said, Jonghyun is home, aegi, let's go, get up. That alone had startled him enough that he'd whispered his slow-word the second Jinki slid into the bed next to him, and Jinki didn't tease him after that; he fucked Taemin hard and slow, and then held him close until Taemin complained that they needed to shower.
"Was he disgusted?" Taemin asked.
Taemin felt Jinki's laugh all along his neck. "No, more turned on. You should have seen his face."
"Probably the same face he was making at me just now," Taemin said. It was ridiculous to think that Jonghyun - girl-chasing, smooth-talking Jonghyun - was looking at Taemin like he wanted to eat him for dessert.
"Well, if you're a pretty little thing and you walk around with no pants on in a dormitory full of sexually frustrated boys, you're bound to get looked at..."
"Are you sexually frustrated, hyung?"
"Don't tempt me, Taemin."
Even though his tone was light-hearted, Taemin understood that Jinki meant it. The rest of the members were home now, and the manager was in his room across the hall. Already they were pushing the boundaries of what the others could accept as simple friendship if they were to walk in and see, and they hadn't gone unnoticed this long for lack of discretion.
The movie was slow-to-start, and fairly typical in its set-up. They weren't missing much by talking over it. Jinki kissed the base of Taemin's skull, just behind his ear, and asked, "Does it bother you?"
"Mueo?"
"The way Jonghyun was looking at you. Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Taemin twisted around to lie on his back, legs thrown over Jinki's thighs, so that he could look Jinki in the eyes. There wasn't any accusation there, just simple curiosity. "Not exactly," Taemin admitted. He squirmed away from Jinki's fingers, touching too light on the sensitive bit of skin under his navel. "It's just weird because it's Jonghyun-hyung."
"Ah." Jinki smoothed down the tee shirt and let his hand rest on Taemin's hip. "If you had to guess, the way he looked at you... interested? Or just looking?"
"You make it sound like he's shopping for a car."
Jinki pinned Taemin to the bed and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Aegi, you think I'd ever sell you?" It was an appealing thought, being sold. Or, more accurately, being Jinki's property, something at his discretion to sell or keep. This line of conversation could get heated rather quickly, so Taemin pushed at Jinki's shoulders to make him roll off. Without Jinki's weight pressing him into the mattress, Taemin actually had room to think.
"Probably just looking," Taemin decided. "I mean, Jonghyun-hyung isn't like that. If he knows we're together, he wouldn't try anything. Right?"
"Well, I could talk to him," Jinki said, after a moment of careful consideration. "If that was something you were still interested in."
Taemin grinned, because he knew exactly what Jinki was referring to. It was on nights like this one, when they were close enough to breathe the same air but it was unwise to do anything more than sneak a few kisses, that they shared fantasies and kinks, the things they wanted to try once or twice or never again. Taemin was always struck mute when they got too heavy into play, but in quiet proximity, he felt brave enough to share anything. Taemin had mentioned that he'd fantasized about a threesome more than once - he liked being watched and exposed, and the idea of being exposed as something that belonged to Jinki was more than a little arousing. They had decided it was hot-in-theory, but too risky to bring into real life; as idols, they couldn't exactly pick someone up in a club.
"You think Jonghyun would?"
"He might."
"You should ask him," Taemin said.
"Okay, aegi. I will." Jinki sat back so that they could settle into a position in view of the TV screen. Taemin draped an arm and a leg over Jinki's torso; if someone came in, he would pretend to be asleep. He fished the remote control out of the blankets and set the movie back a scene.
Pressed up along Jinki's side, with one thigh resting over the bulge at the front of Jinki's pants, Taemin couldn't stop thinking about what it'd be like to have Jonghyun there watching, and helping. Would Jonghyun be turned on when he saw how badly Taemin wanted to please? When he saw Taemin tied up and begging for a cock? Taemin rubbed his crotch not-so-subtly against Jinki's hip.
"Hyung, if I promise to be quiet, can we...?"
"Shut up, Taemin," Jinki said, in that special low voice that hummed through Taemin's bones. He pushed Taemin back onto the pillows, and with one hand clamped tight over Taemin's mouth, he slid the other under the elastic of Taemin's briefs.
~
Jonghyun swore that he was going insane. Now that he knew what was happening, he couldn't stop seeing the power games that Onew and Taemin seemed to play all day long.
In the van, on the way to a recording, Jonghyun watched from the corner of his eye as Taemin chattered and joked with Minho and Key. Taemin was so excited by the topic of conversation that he couldn't help but interrupt the others. The first time it happened, Jonghyun saw Onew tap Taemin on the knee, and Taemin quickly stopped mid-thought, "Oh! Sorry, Minho-hyung, I cut you off."
The second time, when Taemin finally finished his tangent, Onew said lightly, "Taemin-ah, would you like a piece of gum?" He reached into his pocket for the pack and slowly, deliberately, pulled out a piece, unfolded the wrapper, and offered it. After a moment's hesitation, Taemin leaned forward and took it from Onew's fingers with the barest brush of his lips. It was something any of them had done; they all coddled Taemin, and fed and babied him, but when Onew did it now, Jonghyun could see that there was something more intimate in the gesture.
"Thank you, hyung," Taemin said quietly. The gum kept his mouth occupied for a while, but soon enough, Taemin was forgetting himself and talking over Minho, competing with Key for the floor.
As they talked, Jonghyun watched Onew unwrap another piece of gum, and then another. He used his fingernail to pull up the edges and take the wrapper off in a single piece, and then waited until Key's eyes slid away from the mirror he was watching Taemin in. "More gum," Onew said, in a tone that should imply a question, but left no room for an answer. Taemin ducked his head behind the seat, so that Jonghyun could just barely see Onew press his thumb and forefinger deep into the hollows of Taemin's cheeks, forcing his teeth apart. He shoved the gum between Taemin's lips, and then let go.
Taemin straightened and visibly struggled to keep chewing the amount of gum now crammed into his mouth. His cheeks bulged and hollowed, and Jonghyun couldn't help staring because he had never seen anything so overtly, innocently sexual in his life. Onew was staring at Taemin's mouth - well, they were both staring at Taemin's mouth, as the boy's lips rounded out and he started blowing a sweet pink bubble. The colour was deepest near his lips, almost red. The bubble was nearly the size of a fist before a quick inhale snapped it, and Jonghyun had to look away as Taemin licked the gum from his lips.
All. Fucking. Day. Jonghyun swore that they were teasing him on purpose.
During a break in the recording, Onew got up to go to the washroom, and Taemin followed right behind. Taemin never went to the bathroom by himself in an unfamiliar place, and just as often he'd ask Key or Minho, or even Jonghyun to go with him, but this time he went with Onew, and Jonghyun couldn't help thinking that it was for some kinktacular purpose. He pictured them crammed together in a single stall, Onew pushing Taemin to his knees and fucking the magnae's mouth until his eyes watered.
The infuriating part was that Onew and Taemin weren't doing anything different from their normal routine. Taemin always looked up to Onew with a constant, adoring attentiveness, and Onew was the voice of reason that Taemin accepted without fuss. It wasn't unusual for them to sit close in the waiting room, or whisper together away from the microphones, or follow each other around like magnets. These were all things that Jonghyun had accepted at face value, but now every gesture, every quiet word between the two was suddenly part of some game that Jonghyun didn't even know they'd been playing.
Jonghyun would like to think it was the secrecy that bugged him. But really, he understood that much. Onew and Taemin seemed to have something good going for them, and the less people who knew about it, the less chance of management catching wind and putting a stop to it. Made sense.
What bugged Jonghyun was on a more personal level: it was now impossible to go a second in his band members' presence without imagining what kind of kinky games the leader and magnae were playing. And the truly infuriating part: imagining the possibilities turned Jonghyun on.
Jonghyun had his hand slicked and fisted tight around his cock. His pants were down around his knees, bare ass on the couch. The porn on the TV was a video he'd watched a million times before, fast-forwarded to the third scene: the girl was whining all high-pitched as her co-star shoved three fingers inside of her along with his tongue, slurping loud and messy. Jonghyun never made it past this scene without coming like a rocket, but today he couldn't get into it. Every time the girl squealed, Jonghyun mentally replaced it with the sound Taemin made when Jinki flicked his cock, and suddenly the girl didn't sound so sexy anymore. She sounded insincere, so obviously acting.
Someone came through to the living room and paused. Jonghyun thought it was Minho at first, because no one else usually joined him on the couch, but instead of the younger man's long legs kicked up onto the coffee table, they were Onew's. Onew reclined as though Jonghyun was watching an engaging drama that just so happened to catch his attention. He didn't say anything.
If Jonghyun couldn't come to this scene before, he certainly couldn't now. He propped up one of the throw pillows for a barrier, a little embarrassed that the typical images on screen got him so hot. Onew regarded the television like a museum-goer examining an art piece he didn't understand.
"Are you just gonna watch?" Jonghyun asked, peevish.
"Straight porn isn't really my thing," Onew said.
Jonghyun tried to soak in all the implications of that statement, not entirely sure what Onew was admitting to. "I didn't think you watched porn at all, to be honest."
"Oh, I do. With Taemin."
Jonghyun struggled with the mental image of the two of them in bed, curled around the laptop with a headphone apiece, tugging each other off to gay porn. His cock gave a twitch, and Jonghyun forced his focus back to the TV. That's what was getting him hot, making him twitch. Right: the girl. She was straddling the male actor now, lowering her hips and gasping as he played with her nipples. She had her panties hanging off of one socked foot, little delicate things. Pale pink. The same cut and colour as the ones that Taemin had been wearing around his thighs...
Fucking hell. Onew's calm demeanor was putting Jonghyun on edge.
"Thank you for not saying anything," Onew went on. "I didn't think you would, but I know you usually tell Key everything."
Jonghyun snorted. "How would I even bring that up? Oh funny story, yesterday I saw Taemin tied up on the couch with a vibrator shoved up his ass, little pink panties and a cock ring. Onew swore me to secrecy and then they fucked in the other room - yeah, no."
"I'm impressed you remember so many details."
Jonghyun felt his face go hot. Of course he remembered every detail. He'd done nothing but replay the scene in his head since he saw it yesterday, imagining every possible end to the scenario had he not interrupted. Onew, that smirking bastard, saw right through him. "How long have you had this going on, anyway?" Jonghyun asked.
"The tying or the fucking?"
"Both."
The corner of Onew's lip twitched, but it was impossible to tell if it was the beginning of a smile or a frown. "That's not really any of your business, is it? I will say that it doesn't matter; we've been in a relationship longer than we've been doing either of those things."
"Oh, so it's a relationship. That you've failed to mention until now."
"I didn't mention it. And if you hadn't faked sick and come home when you had a schedule, you still wouldn't know about it."
Jonghyun paused the video. It froze on an unflattering close-up of the girl's scrunched-up face as she was being fucked from behind. "Don't make me feel like the bad guy," Jonghyun said. "I'm not gonna spill your secret."
"I didn't think you would. I'm sorry that you feel defensive."
Soft footsteps padded down the hallway from the bathroom, and Taemin's voice called out, "Jinki-hyung! Hyung, have you- oh." Taemin paused on the threshold between the living room and corridor, eyes sliding from Jonghyun and Onew on the couch, to the frozen image on the television. Taemin was dressed in a simple v-neck and sweats. His hair was still wet from his shower, curled at the tips, kissing his collarbones. Jonghyun pulled a pillow onto his lap.
"Yes, Taemin?" Onew asked.
"Um, I'm ready to go."
Onew smiled. "No you're not, you nosy brat. Go dry your hair. I haven't asked him yet."
"Asked me what?"
Taemin lingered, shifting nervously from foot-to-foot, until Onew made a go on now gesture, and then he retreated back to the bathroom. The blow dryer started a moment later.
"Asked me what?" Jonghyun said.
Onew opened his mouth, and then reconsidered. He seemed to struggle to find a way to phrase his next words delicately. "You aren't put off by what you saw me doing with Taemin...?"
"No," Jonghyun agreed.
"Is that something you're interested in?"
"I'm not gay, hyung."
Onew snorted. "Never said you were. Besides, you don't have to be gay to appreciate someone like Taemin."
Jonghyun didn't know what to say to that, because it was true. Taemin was always girlishly pretty rather than handsome. Especially with the recent promotions: the long hair, the peek-a-boo jeans, the make up. Lucifer seemed to have awakened some latent sensuality in Taemin that, Jonghyun realized, had once been for Onew's eyes only. He wondered if Onew ever got jealous.
"Taemin and I are sneaking off tonight," Onew said. "For dinner and noraebang, supposedly, but I have other arrangements. We're leaving in ten, before Key thinks to invite himself along. I'm driving."
Not and you're welcome to join us or do you want to come?, but Jonghyun knew Onew wasn't letting him in on the secret just to clarify that his evening plans didn't include singing along to eighties' pop songs.
Satisfied with the unspoken invitation, Onew got up from the couch and left the room. He turned off the DVD player as he passed as though to say, you won't be needing this. Jonghyun sat there for a long minute, replaying the conversation in his head, making sure that he hadn't missed something.
Jonghyun supposed he wouldn't have to wonder about what Onew and Taemin did for much longer.
Key walked through the living room on his way to the kitchen, and he eyed the pillow over Jonghyun's lap as he passed. "You had better have your pants up underneath that pillow, Kim Jonghyun," Key warned. "Gross."
| next
wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Onew/Taemin, voyeur!Jonghyun
Length: 17,000w
Summary: "It wasn't like anyone said it out loud, that it was a threesome. But of course it was. What else?"
T H R E E ' S A C R O W D
"You're staring again."
Taemin snapped his gaze away from the waiter. He looked down at his lap and mumbled, mianhae, but he wasn't sorry; not really. Jinki knew that the moment the waiter came back with the bill, Taemin's eyes would make a triangle across the man's broad shoulders and down, and then Taemin would imagine what it'd be like for the waiter to bend him over the table and plough him hard.
To be honest, now Jinki was imagining it too.
"Would you suck him off?" Jinki asked. "Quick and dirty in the bathroom?"
Taemin sucked in a breath. "Hyung," he whispered. "Stop it."
"What? I want to know, out of curiosity. Would you?"
Taemin was sinking into his seat, staring heatedly at Jinki from under his fringe. His cheeks were so dark. More aroused or embarrassed, it was hard to say. "Can we not?"
Jinki watched Taemin's face for a moment, deciding if that meant not now or not at all. Jinki had just picked Taemin up from school, and they had all evening to themselves - the other members had a radio schedule - so they could afford to take their time, wait until they got back home, at least. But then Taemin had given the waiter that look, and Jinki felt a possessive instinct rising in the back of his throat, not entirely unpleasant. It was something that couldn't wait. Taemin must have felt the heat of Jinki's stare, because he lifted his drink with shaking hands. Instead of sipping he rested the edge of the glass against his lip.
"Just drink it, aegi," Jinki sighed. It was more a request than a demand, but Taemin obeyed and gulped the rest of his water back, throat rising and falling as he swallowed. Taemin's bobbing throat wasn't something that Jinki could watch in public without drawing attention to them, so he averted his eyes to the front desk where their waiter was flirting with the hostess.
It wasn't hard to see why the guy caught Taemin's eye. He was average height, average build, but there was a severe slant to his eyebrows that made him look a little mean. He looked a little like Jonghyun, now that Jinki thought about it. "He looks like a dirty talker," Jinki mused as Taemin set his empty glass down.
Taemin was flushing and shaking his head, but he was still watching Jinki's face like his next breath depended on it. Jinki stared back, and after a moment Taemin's eyes dropped. His teeth scraped over his lower lip.
"Would you want him calling you filthy things?" Jinki asked. "Slut? Cocksucker? Cumdumpster?"
Taemin laughed awkwardly at that last one, torn between mortified and amused. He glanced to the front desk. The waiter was taking his sweet time with the bill. "Um," Taemin said. "I don't know. I guess so."
"You guess so? Come on, Taeminnie. Help me out."
There was a beat of silence as Taemin fidgeted in his seat. Jinki allowed him the moment; he could see how Taemin was fighting with the words in his head, willing them to come out, but unable to speak over the roar of embarrassment. He always had trouble articulating what he wanted; blame the strict Catholic upbringing. Jinki would get tired of the guessing game if it weren't so fun to watch Taemin squirm and turn every shade of red as Jinki's suggestions got more and more lewd. "He thinks I'm a girl," Taemin squeaked at last.
So that was the game for today. It was one they'd played a lot since Lucifer promotions started, since the hair extensions and the dramatic cat eyeliner and the lip gloss smeared across Taemin's fat lips. Jinki picked up his glass and swirled the last of the liquid in the bottom. Voice low, almost a purr, he said, "Okay, aegi. When the waiter comes back with the bill, I want you to make eye contact. Very deliberately mention a tip, and then excuse yourself to the bathroom. The girls' bathroom. And when you get there, you're going to wait for your waiter-friend in the middle of the floor with your hands behind your neck. Yes?"
Taemin nodded and breathed out with a hoarse sound, not quite a moan. Jinki had to admire the restraint, the way the column of Taemin's throat tensed as he tried to keep the sound in. A man and woman at the next table over were leaning in to talk, faces close; Jinki could see that the couple was oblivious to the restaurant around them, least of all Taemin's near-inaudible whimper, but Taemin didn't know that - all he could hear was an indistinct mumbling from behind him.
"They're talking about you," Jinki said, and jut his chin towards the couple. "Ah-ah, don't turn around, silly. They're looking."
Taemin visibly struggled to stay facing forward. His skin was flushed hot from the sensation of being under a spotlight, like everyone in the restaurrant was staring and knew that he was hiding a hard-on under the tablecloth. "Jinki-hyung, I'm-"
The waiter picked that moment to reappear at the table. He took one look at Taemin's school uniform, and put the bill face-down in front of Jinki.
"I- I'll..." It took so much effort for Taemin to look up. The eye contact with the waiter was fleeting, less of a come-on and more the kind of self-conscious glance someone gives on a crowded bus before quickly looking away. "I'll tip," Taemin whispered.
The waiter frowned in confusion. He probably hadn't heard exactly. He looked at Jinki as if to say, is this kid for real? Trying not to laugh, Jinki waved him away, and the waiter bowed before returning to the pretty girl at the front desk.
Taemin sat there for a moment, willing his body to calm down and not embarrass him on the walk from their table to the bathroom. Jinki put his hand up like he was examing his cuticles, just waiting for Taemin to take a leak; really, he was watching through the gaps in his fingers as Taemin stood stiffly and took the shortest path through the diners. No one even looked up from their food, but Jinki could tell that Taemin was imagining every eye in the place boring into his back. He disappeared around the corner, into the bathroom.
Jinki brought the bill to the front to pay. Although every fibre of his being was dying to rush, he took his time. It was good for Taemin to wait, to anticipate. By the time Jinki got there, Taemin would have himself so riled up that Jinki would hardly have to touch him to make the boy come undone. "I'm just going to wait for my friend," Jinki said, gesturing to the table.
"Take your time," the hostess said, all smiles. "But, um- aren't you Onew, from SHINee? Could I have your autograph?"
Jinki signed the back of a takeout menu for her, and made sure to thank her for excellent service - "I certainly won't forget this place," he assured her, although that would have nothing to do with the food or the service. At the table, Jinki shrugged off his sweater so that he was wearing only the white shirt underneath. The brand was a little expensive to belong to someone on the wait staff, but that was the kind of detail Taemin wouldn't be paying close attention to. It was a near-enough approximation of the uniform the waiter was wearing: black shoes and trousers, white button-up. The only thing missing was the name tag.
The bathroom door wasn't locked, not that Jinki expected it would be. He stepped into the bathroom and pressed the lock behind him. As told, Taemin was standing exactly centre - he must have counted the floor tiles so they were even on either side of him. He had his weight on the balls of his feet, spine straight, eyes downcast, and his hands clasped neatly over the nape of his neck. He whimpered quietly when Jinki came in, more than a little impatient.
"I thought you were kidding about the tip," Jinki said. He tried to make his voice sound different, a little off his usual tone to match the waiter's light tenor. "Usually girls like you... they don't do things like this."
Taemin said nothing. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Who was that guy you were with? Your boyfriend?"
"My..." Taemin started, but Jinki held up a hand to stop him.
"Don't worry about it, beautiful. He won't know. You're just 'freshening up', right? We'll be quick." Jinki wasn't sure when this waiter character acquired a dialect, but Taemin didn't seem to mind. He gasped when Jinki closed the gap between them, and his eyelashes fluttered as he peeked up at Jinki's face. "You mind if I kiss you?" Jinki asked.
"No."
Jinki laughed against Taemin's lips. "Shameless."
He kissed dirty, shoving his tongue into Taemin's mouth and biting at his lips, never letting Taemin get a proper breath.
"Bet your boyfriend loves your mouth," Jinki said, and Taemin hummed in agreement. He had one hand resting ready against Jinki's belt, but without permission he wouldn't pull the buckle. Jinki started backing them towards the counter, pushing between Taemin's knees, and Taemin hoisted himself onto the lip of the sink with a quiet, needy, oppa.
"Should I fuck you here, dirty girl? Should I-" Jinki trailed off when he felt Taemin's erection press against his stomach. He tried to school his face into an expression of shocked disgust and took a half-step back, leaving Taemin unbalanced on the counter with flushed cheeks and parted lips.
"Oppa?" Taemin whispered.
Jinki shook his head. "You trying to trick me?"
"I-"
"Thought I wouldn't notice? You think I'm stupid? Do I look like I'm into guys?"
Taemin slid down from the counter and sank to his knees. He was shaking his head, lips moving without sound: please, I wasn't, sorry, sorry. Jinki almost slipped out-of-character at the sight: Taemin looked so contrite as he scrambled to kneel at Jinki's feet, bowing until his forehead nearly touched the dirty bathroom floor. He looked up at the sound of Jinki unbuckling his belt.
"Come here, cocksucker. This is what you wanted, right?"
Taemin shuffled closer and braced his hands on Jinki's thighs. Before Jinki could even get his cock out, Taemin was nuzzling into his fly, his breath hot as he panted over the hard line of Jinki's cock, "Oh, please, yesyesyes."
Jinki breathed out slowly through his nose as Taemin mouthed the head of his cock through his boxers, getting the cotton wet with his hot breath and tongue. "Jesus, you're eager," Jinki groaned.
He grabbed Taemin's hair to hold him back long enough to get his cock free, and when he let go Taemin didn't waste any time in teasing. He wrapped his pretty lips around Jinki's cock and sucked eagerly, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he bobbed his head. He whined when Jinki stepped back, momentarily separating them, but Jinki only needed to rest his shoulders against the wall for leverage. With the heels of his palms pressed into either cheek, Jinki guided Taemin back to his cock and held him there. He pushed into Taemin's mouth, past his teeth, and thrust his hips experimentally; when Taemin didn't protest, just whimpered and rolled his eyes back, Jinki kept going. He fucked Taemin's mouth rather thoughtlessly until Taemin gagged and pulled back. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, tears and spit shining under the fluorescent light.
"Problem?" Jinki asked. He spoke in character, the supposedly-straight water, but he was watching Taemin carefully for any sign that he wasn't enjoying this as much as Jinki. Taemin shook his head, "no," he whispered, and leaned forward to press a reverent kiss against the head of Jinki's cock. Taemin could barely sit still, so turned-on, so visibly hard; the trousers of his uniform left nothing to the imagination.
"Oppa, can I touch myself while I...?"
"No fucking way," Jinki said. "I don't wanna see some other guy's dick. Shut up and finish what you started."
With a frustrated little groan, Taemin swallowed Jinki's cock down again. He couldn't get the whole thing into his mouth, not in this position, so he used one hand to cover what wouldn't fit, quickly getting his fingers sticky with spit. On the upstroke, Taemin's lips left Jinki's cock with a loud slurp, and Jinki shuddered and scratched at Taemin's scalp every time.
"Fuck, Tae-" Jinki forgot to speak satoori for a moment, forgot they were in the girls' restroom in a public restaurant. He was so close to coming he could taste it. All it took was the whisper of Taemin's lips over his slit, oppa, I can't wait to taste you, want you to come down my throat, oppa, plea-ea-ea-ease, and Jinki came undone. He shoved his fist into his mouth to muffle the groan he just couldn't keep down, and with his other hand twisted into Taemin's hair, he came deep and hard against the back of Taemin's throat.
For a full minute, Jinki couldn't do anything but let his weight sag against the tiled wall. "Sucked the life out of me, aegi," he joked.
Taemin rested his cheek against Jinki's thigh. He was moving his hips back-and-forth, trying to get some friction against the erection tented in his pants. "Hyung," he whined. "Help."
Jinki offered a hand to pull Taemin to stand. When they were level, he licked at Taemin's mouth and tasted himself on the younger boy's tongue. "We have all day," he reminded him. "And I don't think you're anywhere near desperate yet."
Jinki felt Taemin's indignant huff against his neck. "But hyung, how am I supposed to walk to the car like this?"
Jinki reached between Taemin's legs to cup his hard cock under his palm. Taemin's breath whistled through his lips as he tried to keep down an embarrassing moan, Jinki's fingers pressing just hard enough to make him stand on tip-toe, trying for more pressure. He clutched at Jinki's shoulders and whispered a premature thank you thank you, thinking that Jinki had taken pity on him.
Taemin whined loud as Jinki let his hand drop and pressed a kiss against Taemin's open mouth. "You just stay close to me, aegi," he said. "I won't let anybody see."
~
Jonghyun felt a twinge of remorse for stretching the truth. He did have a headache. Kind of. It wasn't anything so bad that it required medication and bedrest, but he didn't have a hard time convincing the manager otherwise. He dug the heel of his palm into his eye, drooped against window, and when Minho asked if he was feeling sick, Jonghyun answered in the most strained and pathetic voice he could muster, "No, I'm fine."
The manager's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. "Jonghyun?"
Key was sitting shotgun, and he turned around to stare at the lead singer slumped in his seat. Jonghyun could feel Key's eyes on him like a laser beam, but after a minute, Key turned around and said nothing. He probably knew that Jonghyun wasn't that sick, but he wasn't going to say so either.
"Jonghyun?" The manager asked again.
"I'm fine," Jonghyun rasped, again in that so-sick-I-can-barely-speak voice.
"You don't sound like it." The manager seemed a little irritated by that possibility, but not unreceptive.
"Well," Jonghyun said. He tried to sound really conflicted. Like the last thing in the world that he wanted was to go home and rest when there was a schedule. "I do have a bit of a headache. It's not so bad. I just feel a little..." Here, Jonghyun trailed off and pressed his hands to his cheeks. He made it look like he was trying to push the pressure of the headache back into his skull, but when he lowered his hands the blood rushed back into his face and gave him a flushed, fevered look.
Key was staring again, eyes narrowed.
"Maybe you shouldn't push it," the manager said. No doubt he was thinking about the last time Jonghyun was sick, that high fever, how he'd left practice in an ambulance. "Why don't we drop you off back at the dorm? Onew and Taemin will be there if you need anything, and Key and Minho can go ahead without you."
Jonghyun started to shake his head, opened his mouth to say, no, really, I'm fine.
"If you're not feeling well, hyung, you should rest," Minho said.
Any more insisting, and they'd drag him along. So Jonghyun just nodded not-quite-glumly, leaned his non-existent headache against the cool of the window glass, and kept his eyes closed until they pulled in front of the dorm.
The door was locked; that was unusual. When someone was in, they tended to leave the door open so that the others could come and go without scrambling for keys. Onew and Taemin must have gone downstairs - Taemin probably dragged the leader to the practice room to go over dance steps, or they were up on the roof doing whatever it was they did up there. Jonghyun's keys were in the bottom of his backpack, so he upended the whole thing to find them, and then shoved everything back in, crumpling lyric sheets and radio scripts.
After letting himself inside, Jonghyun set his bag down by the door, stepped out of his shoes, and walked through to the kitchen. He had his hand on the cupboard to get a drink of water when he heard a whine, almost like someone crying. He dropped his hand to his side. What the...?
He took two steps back, leaning to see through the doorway. He didn't know what he expected to be the source of the sound, but it certainly wasn't what he saw:
Taemin was face-down on the couch, arms bound behind his back with rope from wrist to elbow. The striped tie of his school uniform was looped around his head as a makeshift blindfold, and his button-down shirt was bunched around his armpits to show the whole of his back, each bump in his spine in high relief as he arched and curved his spine. His pants were missing. Girls' panties, simple pink little things, were pushed down his thighs. A black cord trailed between his legs like a tail, and gave off a faint buzzing sound.
Taemin lifted his head and asked, voice quavering, "Jin... Jinki-hyung?"
"I'm here, Taemin-ah." Onew came into the room from the hall. He was fully-clothed, but unbuttoned, with his cock hanging out from his fly heavy and thick. "I'm just-"
Jonghyun made a strangled noise and took a step back as Onew's gaze settled on him fully. There was a long and tense moment, silent except for the buzz of the vibrator and Taemin's quick panting. Onew calmly tucked himself into his pants.
"Hyung?" Taemin asked.
Onew pointed to Jonghyun, and then put his finger to his lips: be quiet. Jonghyun nodded, and watched as Jinki went into the living room and kneeled beside Taemin. He ran his hand from the top of Taemin's spine to the cleft of his ass, but rather than soothe him, the touch seemed to agitate Taemin even more. He tossed his head and asked again, in a barely-there voice, hyung?
"I'm here, aegi," Onew said. His voice didn't sound anything like the Onew that Jonghyun knew. If he couldn't see that it was Onew right there in front of him, Jonghyun would have thought the leader had been replaced by some smooth-voiced imposter. "Be good for me and wait a moment longer," Onew crooned, and Taemin visibly shuddered.
"Hyung," Taemin whined. He pressed his cheek against the cushions and rolled his hips, and for the first time Jonghyun could see the erection he was grinding against the couch. A thin leather band sat firmly at the base of it, and the head looked almost purple, an angry swollen colour. "Hyung, I'm dying."
"Oh, Taemin. You've been so good. And all I'm asking is for a few more minutes. You're not dying. I know it feels that way."
"It hurts," Taemin insisted.
With a thoughtful look, Onew kneeled and examined Taemin's erection. It did look painful, Jonghyun thought, and he could see that much from where he was standing. Taemin sobbed at the slightest touch of Onew's finger trailing up the length of him. "You're okay, aegi. I'm sure you are. Do you want me to turn the vibrator off?"
"No," Taemin said, the answer falling from his lips without thought. Although Onew's carress seemed physically painful, he was still canting his hips, seeking the warmth of Onew's hand. "No, hyung, nonono, I want you to let me come."
Onew curled his index finger to his thumb, and Jonghyun winced as he realized what the leader was about to do. Onew flicked the head of Taemin's leaking cock. Not gently. Taemin's arms strained as he fought to pull them forward, and his broken cry echoed loud in the confines of the living room.
"Oh, Taeminnie," Onew sighed. He sounded genuinely disappointed, like he'd come home to find that the dog had chewed his favourite sneakers. Taemin sniffed and mumbled something, the exact words muffled by the cushions. He was drooling all over the couch, mouth hanging open, and his chest heaved as he gulped in air. Jonghyun had ever seen anything like it. Onew must not have liked whatever it was that Taemin said, because he started shaking his head.
"I was thinking I might let you come soon," Onew said. "I was going to take the ring off and fuck you on the couch- would you like that, Taemin-ah?"
"Yessss. Hyung, please, yes yes yes."
"I thought you might. But that's really too bad, then. I don't give in to spoiled boys who can't appreciate what they've been offered. Take some time to reflect, aegi."
With that, Onew stood up and dusted off his pants. He picked up the remote hanging from the vibrator cord, and switched it from the low, constant buzz to a heavy pulse. Taemin was openly weeping now, fighting against the bindings, pleading mindlessly with every breath. Onew walked heavily to the kitchen, letting Taemin hear every step as he moved farther away. He grabbed Jonghyun's elbow, and with his finger to his lips - shh - he scooped up Jonghyun's bag and shoes, and led the both of them outside. The door slammed loud behind him.
In the corridor outside the dorm, away from Taemin, Onew lost that air of authority that he had worn like a new skin. He was flushed and obviously aroused, breathing hard through his nose. "What..." Onew said, and paused for a gulp of air, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I, uh. I had a headache," Jonghyun said. It sounded like such a feeble excuse. And it was; there was no headache to speak of now. Barely one to begin with. "Manager-sshi said that I could skip the radio schedule and come back here to get some sleep."
"You shouldn't milk things like that. Now what if you really do get sick?" Onew ran a hand through his bangs and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling as though asking God for patience, the same upward look he gave when one of the members did something stupid that he would have to take the heat for. "I suppose that means you can't go to the gym or go out now. Someone will see that you're fine."
Jonghyun hadn't even thought of that. "I guess you're right."
"I don't want Taemin to know right now that you saw him. He's very..." Onew paused, trying to think of a word, but ultimately left the sentence unfinished. He cleared his throat and started again. Onew didn't look at Jonghyun when he spoke, but directed his words to the ground. Not ashamed; rather, he was reluctantly sharing something he would have preferred to keep private. "That... was delicate. It would do more harm than good if Taemin knew you came in. Actually, a lot of harm. So pretend you never saw this, and I'll pretend you weren't here. Arasseo?"
Jonghyun didn't understand. But all the same, he nodded. "So what now?"
Onew thought about it for a long moment. "I'm going to tell Taemin that I saw you in the lobby just now. Give me ten minutes, and come inside as though you just got here. Make a lot of noise. When I come out to talk to you, you'll tell me the same thing you told the manager - you have a headache, and you're going to bed. Do so. And don't ever mention this to anyone."
The look on Onew's face was so fiercely protective that Jonghyun couldn't do anything but nod meekly and watch as Onew slipped back into the dorm, shutting him out.
Jonghyun sat down in the hallway and stared at the clock on his cell phone. The front doors to the dormitories were thick, practically sound-proof. Jonghyun strained his ears, but he heard nothing except the hum of voices - and he was pretty sure that came from the TV. After two minutes ticked by, Jonghyun figured he should go downstairs and get something. Paracetamol. No one would question him wandering outside for pain medication.
Jonghyun tried not to think as he walked to the ground floor, just focused on the shuffling movement of his feet from one step to the next. He went to the convenience store, purchased a blister package of paracetamol and a bottle of soda water. He wasn't even rushing, but the entire transaction, including the walk, barely took eight minutes. He was back in front of the dormitory with twenty seconds to spare.
20, 19, 18...
He wondered if Taemin had been wearing those pink panties all day. If he wore them to school. If he sat through his classes with his junk smushed into girls' underwear, shifting uncomfortably as he thought about what he had coming that night. Or not coming, apparently.
Jonghyun recalled an exchange with Onew, two years ago, at least. Maybe more; Taemin had still been dark-haired. That awful bowl cut. Jonghyun came into the living room to find Onew practicing knots on a piece of yellow rope. When Jonghyun asked what for, Onew said he was brushing up on half-forgotten childhood survival skills. Just in case. But now Jonghyun figured it was more likely he'd been practicing how to tie Taemin up. Had he been tying Taemin up back then? Was that something they'd been doing for that long?
13, 12, 11...
It certainly looked like it was something they did often. And the way that Onew had been talking, his voice so low, and how Taemin reacted to it... Taemin was normally so put-together. He never seemed to be affected by anything; he didn't cry, he rarely lost his temper. Even more so than Onew's out-of-character actions, Jonghyun was disturbed by seeing Taemin picked-apart like that. He was sobbing and begging, completely unaware of the world around him. Somehow, he hadn't even heard Jonghyun come in.
9, 8, 7, 6...
I was going to take the ring off and fuck you on the couch, Onew had said. What if Jonghyun came home five minutes later? Would he have walked in to that scene, to Onew shoving his big cock into Taemin's tiny hole as the magnae mewled and pawed at the couch?
Jonghyun felt his cock twitch in his jeans. He wasn't even into guys - well, barring that one time he made out with Key, but they were both very drunk. Key, admittedly, was more grossed out than Jonghyun was, although that might have a lot to do with the fact that Jonghyun had thrown up beer-and-pizza just before. And sure, Jonghyun had jacked off with Minho before. To straight porn, of course. They sat on opposite ends of the couch and whoever sat on the left stroked right-handed to give his cock a bit of privacy. Strictly no touching. Key preferred to do his business in private, but sometimes he'd stand behind the couch and palm the front of his trousers if it was a really hot scene (he liked girls on top). Jonghyun had never really put too much thought into why Onew and Taemin avoided that kind of thing. He'd always figured Onew was a boring prude, and Taemin was too young or too shy to masturbate in front of his hyungs. Obviously, Jonghyun was wrong.
3, 2, 1...
Ten minutes. Jonghyun waited an extra second, just to be sure, and then he opened the door.
This time, the living room was empty. As promised, Jonghyun kicked off his shoes so that they clattered into the wall, dropped his bag heavy on the floor, and called out, "Onew-hyung? Taemin?"
He thought he heard Taemin whimpering in the other room, but it could have been his imagination. Onew came out of the bedroom, calm and composed. Like the entire exchange hadn't just happened. "Jonghyun? Why are you home?"
"I, uh, wasn't feeling well. Manager-sshi sent me back to get some sleep."
Onew nodded. "Oh, okay. Do you need anything? Medication? Water?"
Jonghyun held up the bottle of Paracetamol he just bought and gave it a shake. "No, hyung. I've got it. Just gonna... go lie down for a while."
"Hope it's not something contagious," Onew said. He had his hand on the bedroom door, holding it ajar. "Taemin isn't feeling well, either."
Jonghyun was out of lines. He gave an awkward half-shrug. As he went into the room he shared with Minho, he thought he saw Onew mouth, thank you, but it could have been something else entirely. Onew went back into Taemin's room, closing the door behind him.
The walls weren't so thick that they muffled sound. Instead of getting into bed, Jonghyun crouched down, approximately where Taemin's bed was, and pressed his ear against the wall. He heard the bed shift, and Onew talking in that deep, low voice. Taemin wasn't very loud, probably face-down in the pillows. It was hard to make out the words, but Jonghyun could vividly picture the scene: the bed creaked from the weight of Onew's knees, and then Taemin was wailing into Onew's palm as the leader pushed his big cock inside. Jonghyun could have sworn he heard Taemin say his name - won't Jonghyun hear? - but Onew must have soothed that fear, because then the bed was squealing, and the headboard bumped against the wall. Jonghyun got up and crawled into bed, feeling more than a little confused about the massive hard-on straining in his pants.
He waited until they were done fucking before stroking himself off; it felt a little too dirty to jack to the same rhythm that had Taemin trying not to scream the walls down.
~
Taemin knew what it felt like to be watched. On stage and off, thousands of screaming fans followed his every movement, capturing every change in expression on camera and sharing with fans all over the world - click here to see Taemin-oppa's sneeze!
And then there was the way that Jinki watched him, with all the intensity of a floodlight, his gaze both demanding and reassuring, raking over him like a physical touch. Taemin was used to that.
He was not used to Jonghyun watching.
"Something on my face?"
Jonghyun startled like he'd been slapped. He quickly looked back to the television, attempting to seem engrossed in the commercials flashing by, and Taemin almost didn't believe it- was he blushing? He was!
Taemin grabbed the DVD he came for, and padded back to Jinki's room where his lover was waiting half-asleep on the bed. Jinki noticed his bewildered expression and asked, "Something up, Taemin-ah?"
"Mm." Taemin put the movie on - a horror flick because Key wouldn't question them curled up together in front of a scary movie - and wiggled into the space under Jinki's arm, getting comfy. "Jonghyun-hyung was looking at me funny. Kind of like you do sometimes, when it's been a while."
"You mean like this?" Taemin looked over his shoulder to find Jinki with his eyes crossed and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Taemin elbowed him in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt.
"No, not quite like that, hyung."
"I get you, aegi," Jinki said. He pulled Taemin closer, tucking his knees behind Taemin's and sliding his hand under the oversized tee shirt to rub absently at Taemin's belly. "It's because he saw you earlier today, when he came home."
Taemin frowned. "But I was-"
"No, it was before I took you to the bedroom. He came in while you were on the couch. Caught him standing in the kitchen doorway, staring."
"Hyung!" Taemin grabbed Jinki's wrist to stop the slow-wandering carress of his hand, and twisted to give him an indignant look. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I am telling you. What do you think would have happened if you'd known right then? You like being a little embarrassed, aegi, but not like that. You would have been so upset."
Taemin let go of Jinki's hand with a pout. As always, Jinki was right. By the time Jonghyun walked in, Taemin was deep in a submissive space, touched out from the reality around him and focused entirely on Jinki and the slow, hot burn of his own arousal. He was grouchy enough when Jinki came back inside and said, Jonghyun is home, aegi, let's go, get up. That alone had startled him enough that he'd whispered his slow-word the second Jinki slid into the bed next to him, and Jinki didn't tease him after that; he fucked Taemin hard and slow, and then held him close until Taemin complained that they needed to shower.
"Was he disgusted?" Taemin asked.
Taemin felt Jinki's laugh all along his neck. "No, more turned on. You should have seen his face."
"Probably the same face he was making at me just now," Taemin said. It was ridiculous to think that Jonghyun - girl-chasing, smooth-talking Jonghyun - was looking at Taemin like he wanted to eat him for dessert.
"Well, if you're a pretty little thing and you walk around with no pants on in a dormitory full of sexually frustrated boys, you're bound to get looked at..."
"Are you sexually frustrated, hyung?"
"Don't tempt me, Taemin."
Even though his tone was light-hearted, Taemin understood that Jinki meant it. The rest of the members were home now, and the manager was in his room across the hall. Already they were pushing the boundaries of what the others could accept as simple friendship if they were to walk in and see, and they hadn't gone unnoticed this long for lack of discretion.
The movie was slow-to-start, and fairly typical in its set-up. They weren't missing much by talking over it. Jinki kissed the base of Taemin's skull, just behind his ear, and asked, "Does it bother you?"
"Mueo?"
"The way Jonghyun was looking at you. Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Taemin twisted around to lie on his back, legs thrown over Jinki's thighs, so that he could look Jinki in the eyes. There wasn't any accusation there, just simple curiosity. "Not exactly," Taemin admitted. He squirmed away from Jinki's fingers, touching too light on the sensitive bit of skin under his navel. "It's just weird because it's Jonghyun-hyung."
"Ah." Jinki smoothed down the tee shirt and let his hand rest on Taemin's hip. "If you had to guess, the way he looked at you... interested? Or just looking?"
"You make it sound like he's shopping for a car."
Jinki pinned Taemin to the bed and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Aegi, you think I'd ever sell you?" It was an appealing thought, being sold. Or, more accurately, being Jinki's property, something at his discretion to sell or keep. This line of conversation could get heated rather quickly, so Taemin pushed at Jinki's shoulders to make him roll off. Without Jinki's weight pressing him into the mattress, Taemin actually had room to think.
"Probably just looking," Taemin decided. "I mean, Jonghyun-hyung isn't like that. If he knows we're together, he wouldn't try anything. Right?"
"Well, I could talk to him," Jinki said, after a moment of careful consideration. "If that was something you were still interested in."
Taemin grinned, because he knew exactly what Jinki was referring to. It was on nights like this one, when they were close enough to breathe the same air but it was unwise to do anything more than sneak a few kisses, that they shared fantasies and kinks, the things they wanted to try once or twice or never again. Taemin was always struck mute when they got too heavy into play, but in quiet proximity, he felt brave enough to share anything. Taemin had mentioned that he'd fantasized about a threesome more than once - he liked being watched and exposed, and the idea of being exposed as something that belonged to Jinki was more than a little arousing. They had decided it was hot-in-theory, but too risky to bring into real life; as idols, they couldn't exactly pick someone up in a club.
"You think Jonghyun would?"
"He might."
"You should ask him," Taemin said.
"Okay, aegi. I will." Jinki sat back so that they could settle into a position in view of the TV screen. Taemin draped an arm and a leg over Jinki's torso; if someone came in, he would pretend to be asleep. He fished the remote control out of the blankets and set the movie back a scene.
Pressed up along Jinki's side, with one thigh resting over the bulge at the front of Jinki's pants, Taemin couldn't stop thinking about what it'd be like to have Jonghyun there watching, and helping. Would Jonghyun be turned on when he saw how badly Taemin wanted to please? When he saw Taemin tied up and begging for a cock? Taemin rubbed his crotch not-so-subtly against Jinki's hip.
"Hyung, if I promise to be quiet, can we...?"
"Shut up, Taemin," Jinki said, in that special low voice that hummed through Taemin's bones. He pushed Taemin back onto the pillows, and with one hand clamped tight over Taemin's mouth, he slid the other under the elastic of Taemin's briefs.
~
Jonghyun swore that he was going insane. Now that he knew what was happening, he couldn't stop seeing the power games that Onew and Taemin seemed to play all day long.
In the van, on the way to a recording, Jonghyun watched from the corner of his eye as Taemin chattered and joked with Minho and Key. Taemin was so excited by the topic of conversation that he couldn't help but interrupt the others. The first time it happened, Jonghyun saw Onew tap Taemin on the knee, and Taemin quickly stopped mid-thought, "Oh! Sorry, Minho-hyung, I cut you off."
The second time, when Taemin finally finished his tangent, Onew said lightly, "Taemin-ah, would you like a piece of gum?" He reached into his pocket for the pack and slowly, deliberately, pulled out a piece, unfolded the wrapper, and offered it. After a moment's hesitation, Taemin leaned forward and took it from Onew's fingers with the barest brush of his lips. It was something any of them had done; they all coddled Taemin, and fed and babied him, but when Onew did it now, Jonghyun could see that there was something more intimate in the gesture.
"Thank you, hyung," Taemin said quietly. The gum kept his mouth occupied for a while, but soon enough, Taemin was forgetting himself and talking over Minho, competing with Key for the floor.
As they talked, Jonghyun watched Onew unwrap another piece of gum, and then another. He used his fingernail to pull up the edges and take the wrapper off in a single piece, and then waited until Key's eyes slid away from the mirror he was watching Taemin in. "More gum," Onew said, in a tone that should imply a question, but left no room for an answer. Taemin ducked his head behind the seat, so that Jonghyun could just barely see Onew press his thumb and forefinger deep into the hollows of Taemin's cheeks, forcing his teeth apart. He shoved the gum between Taemin's lips, and then let go.
Taemin straightened and visibly struggled to keep chewing the amount of gum now crammed into his mouth. His cheeks bulged and hollowed, and Jonghyun couldn't help staring because he had never seen anything so overtly, innocently sexual in his life. Onew was staring at Taemin's mouth - well, they were both staring at Taemin's mouth, as the boy's lips rounded out and he started blowing a sweet pink bubble. The colour was deepest near his lips, almost red. The bubble was nearly the size of a fist before a quick inhale snapped it, and Jonghyun had to look away as Taemin licked the gum from his lips.
All. Fucking. Day. Jonghyun swore that they were teasing him on purpose.
During a break in the recording, Onew got up to go to the washroom, and Taemin followed right behind. Taemin never went to the bathroom by himself in an unfamiliar place, and just as often he'd ask Key or Minho, or even Jonghyun to go with him, but this time he went with Onew, and Jonghyun couldn't help thinking that it was for some kinktacular purpose. He pictured them crammed together in a single stall, Onew pushing Taemin to his knees and fucking the magnae's mouth until his eyes watered.
The infuriating part was that Onew and Taemin weren't doing anything different from their normal routine. Taemin always looked up to Onew with a constant, adoring attentiveness, and Onew was the voice of reason that Taemin accepted without fuss. It wasn't unusual for them to sit close in the waiting room, or whisper together away from the microphones, or follow each other around like magnets. These were all things that Jonghyun had accepted at face value, but now every gesture, every quiet word between the two was suddenly part of some game that Jonghyun didn't even know they'd been playing.
Jonghyun would like to think it was the secrecy that bugged him. But really, he understood that much. Onew and Taemin seemed to have something good going for them, and the less people who knew about it, the less chance of management catching wind and putting a stop to it. Made sense.
What bugged Jonghyun was on a more personal level: it was now impossible to go a second in his band members' presence without imagining what kind of kinky games the leader and magnae were playing. And the truly infuriating part: imagining the possibilities turned Jonghyun on.
Jonghyun had his hand slicked and fisted tight around his cock. His pants were down around his knees, bare ass on the couch. The porn on the TV was a video he'd watched a million times before, fast-forwarded to the third scene: the girl was whining all high-pitched as her co-star shoved three fingers inside of her along with his tongue, slurping loud and messy. Jonghyun never made it past this scene without coming like a rocket, but today he couldn't get into it. Every time the girl squealed, Jonghyun mentally replaced it with the sound Taemin made when Jinki flicked his cock, and suddenly the girl didn't sound so sexy anymore. She sounded insincere, so obviously acting.
Someone came through to the living room and paused. Jonghyun thought it was Minho at first, because no one else usually joined him on the couch, but instead of the younger man's long legs kicked up onto the coffee table, they were Onew's. Onew reclined as though Jonghyun was watching an engaging drama that just so happened to catch his attention. He didn't say anything.
If Jonghyun couldn't come to this scene before, he certainly couldn't now. He propped up one of the throw pillows for a barrier, a little embarrassed that the typical images on screen got him so hot. Onew regarded the television like a museum-goer examining an art piece he didn't understand.
"Are you just gonna watch?" Jonghyun asked, peevish.
"Straight porn isn't really my thing," Onew said.
Jonghyun tried to soak in all the implications of that statement, not entirely sure what Onew was admitting to. "I didn't think you watched porn at all, to be honest."
"Oh, I do. With Taemin."
Jonghyun struggled with the mental image of the two of them in bed, curled around the laptop with a headphone apiece, tugging each other off to gay porn. His cock gave a twitch, and Jonghyun forced his focus back to the TV. That's what was getting him hot, making him twitch. Right: the girl. She was straddling the male actor now, lowering her hips and gasping as he played with her nipples. She had her panties hanging off of one socked foot, little delicate things. Pale pink. The same cut and colour as the ones that Taemin had been wearing around his thighs...
Fucking hell. Onew's calm demeanor was putting Jonghyun on edge.
"Thank you for not saying anything," Onew went on. "I didn't think you would, but I know you usually tell Key everything."
Jonghyun snorted. "How would I even bring that up? Oh funny story, yesterday I saw Taemin tied up on the couch with a vibrator shoved up his ass, little pink panties and a cock ring. Onew swore me to secrecy and then they fucked in the other room - yeah, no."
"I'm impressed you remember so many details."
Jonghyun felt his face go hot. Of course he remembered every detail. He'd done nothing but replay the scene in his head since he saw it yesterday, imagining every possible end to the scenario had he not interrupted. Onew, that smirking bastard, saw right through him. "How long have you had this going on, anyway?" Jonghyun asked.
"The tying or the fucking?"
"Both."
The corner of Onew's lip twitched, but it was impossible to tell if it was the beginning of a smile or a frown. "That's not really any of your business, is it? I will say that it doesn't matter; we've been in a relationship longer than we've been doing either of those things."
"Oh, so it's a relationship. That you've failed to mention until now."
"I didn't mention it. And if you hadn't faked sick and come home when you had a schedule, you still wouldn't know about it."
Jonghyun paused the video. It froze on an unflattering close-up of the girl's scrunched-up face as she was being fucked from behind. "Don't make me feel like the bad guy," Jonghyun said. "I'm not gonna spill your secret."
"I didn't think you would. I'm sorry that you feel defensive."
Soft footsteps padded down the hallway from the bathroom, and Taemin's voice called out, "Jinki-hyung! Hyung, have you- oh." Taemin paused on the threshold between the living room and corridor, eyes sliding from Jonghyun and Onew on the couch, to the frozen image on the television. Taemin was dressed in a simple v-neck and sweats. His hair was still wet from his shower, curled at the tips, kissing his collarbones. Jonghyun pulled a pillow onto his lap.
"Yes, Taemin?" Onew asked.
"Um, I'm ready to go."
Onew smiled. "No you're not, you nosy brat. Go dry your hair. I haven't asked him yet."
"Asked me what?"
Taemin lingered, shifting nervously from foot-to-foot, until Onew made a go on now gesture, and then he retreated back to the bathroom. The blow dryer started a moment later.
"Asked me what?" Jonghyun said.
Onew opened his mouth, and then reconsidered. He seemed to struggle to find a way to phrase his next words delicately. "You aren't put off by what you saw me doing with Taemin...?"
"No," Jonghyun agreed.
"Is that something you're interested in?"
"I'm not gay, hyung."
Onew snorted. "Never said you were. Besides, you don't have to be gay to appreciate someone like Taemin."
Jonghyun didn't know what to say to that, because it was true. Taemin was always girlishly pretty rather than handsome. Especially with the recent promotions: the long hair, the peek-a-boo jeans, the make up. Lucifer seemed to have awakened some latent sensuality in Taemin that, Jonghyun realized, had once been for Onew's eyes only. He wondered if Onew ever got jealous.
"Taemin and I are sneaking off tonight," Onew said. "For dinner and noraebang, supposedly, but I have other arrangements. We're leaving in ten, before Key thinks to invite himself along. I'm driving."
Not and you're welcome to join us or do you want to come?, but Jonghyun knew Onew wasn't letting him in on the secret just to clarify that his evening plans didn't include singing along to eighties' pop songs.
Satisfied with the unspoken invitation, Onew got up from the couch and left the room. He turned off the DVD player as he passed as though to say, you won't be needing this. Jonghyun sat there for a long minute, replaying the conversation in his head, making sure that he hadn't missed something.
Jonghyun supposed he wouldn't have to wonder about what Onew and Taemin did for much longer.
Key walked through the living room on his way to the kitchen, and he eyed the pillow over Jonghyun's lap as he passed. "You had better have your pants up underneath that pillow, Kim Jonghyun," Key warned. "Gross."
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