The first time Soojung brought Jongin to their studio, pushing this clearly hesitant boy into a room full of sharp-eyed, silver-tongued actor kids, she pointed an accusing finger at them and said, “This is Kim Jongin. I’ve personally borrowed him for us from the Dance department. Whatever you do, return him safe and sound in one piece by the end of this semester.”
Everyone laughed, some of them sauntering up to introduce themselves only to have a closer look, blatantly raking their eyes up and down the boy’s body. He looked flustered by the attention, pulling at his snapback as he nodded and dispensed tiny smiles to their questions, fidgeting with his whole body. And it was a fine body indeed - tight and lean, nicely proportioned, broad shoulders, long legs, cute pert ass hugged by soft denim. He was slumping a little, hunched into himself, but Chanyeol suspected it was just initial shyness. Soojung had chosen him; he’d be the perfect fit for this role.
He walked up to Jongin once the crowd had died down a little, beaming his brightest, friendliest smile with perfect shiny white teeth as he reached out and turned Jongin’s snapback backwards. Jongin’s hands flew up to hold his snapback in place, eyes widening as he looked up, startled to meet Chanyeol’s gaze. The boy was clearly unused to looking up to someone who was this much taller than him. Jongin’s lips were parted in surprise, and fuck him if they weren’t the most plush and sensual pair of lips he had ever seen.
“Welcome to our production! I’m Park Chanyeol, male lead, so I guess we’re going to be working together quite a lot.” His voice came out louder than he’d intended, and he could see the boy flinching a little at the sudden volume. Great. He stuck out his hand anyway, and Jongin tentatively reached out to take it after a couple of hesitant seconds.
“Kim Jongin,” he said, husky voice sending a low vibration up Chanyeol’s spine. His thumb swiped over Jongin’s knuckles when he pulled away.
There was a lot of softness about Kim Jongin - his eyes that always looked a little wistful, the softness of his cheeks, the curves of his lips, his shiny hair before it became matted with sweat during rehearsal, the way he dispensed shy little smiles when everyone marvelled in awe after he showed them certain dance routines. Yet all of that softness was gone the moment the music started and his body snapped to the flow of the beat.
This was the final production of the whole Drama department, final year, and Jongin was to be the muse, the spirit, the breath of their final centrepiece. He only had two small scenes, but the underlying idea of the spirit carried their play. It was Kris’ idea, who was from Directing, but the girls in Playwriting immediately ate it up the moment he opened his mouth. Soojung knew someone who was a teacher over at the Dance department, and the rest was history. Kris, who also happened to win Chanyeol’s most terrible friend award, never quite warned him what he’d meant when he’d said, “We’ve found your perfect little muse.”
Kim Jongin was a different beast when he danced. His body loosened and tensed up, shedding his usual coat of awkward shyness, letting the music flow through his body until something sparked inside of him, and he started pushing and pulling with the currents. His body snapped in sharp angles and perfect arches, surging in waves of fire and water, power and quiet grace, golden skin glistening with the faint sheen of sweat.
The two small scenes Jongin had, Chanyeol was with him for both. They intended for Chanyeol to be more involved in the dance at first, but soon gave up when Chanyeol could barely manage not to stumble over his toes when his hands grasped Jongin’s waist, brushing slivers of hot skin beneath the edge of a thread-bare t-shirt. Jongin flushed and pursed his lips when he untangled himself from Chanyeol’s grasp, but he revised the choreography for them, reducing Chanyeol’s part to just a few simple steps as Jongin twisted and turned around him. That was more than enough, because Chanyeol could barely coordinate his legs on a good day, let alone when he was faced with Jongin’s storm-dark eyes as the boy surged towards him, muscles rippling taut when his arms wound around Chanyeol’s shoulders in an act of seduction.
Except it wasn’t seduction, Chanyeol frantically reminded himself, taking a shaky breath as Kris called out Cut and Jongin pulled away, the previous intensity of his gaze dropping to be replaced by the familiar skittish, unsure look. He was biting down on his lip again, something Chanyeol realized he always did when he was nervous.
“What’s wrong with you, Chanyeol? You are too tense, and your beat is off.” Kris called out, narrowing his eyes at them.
Chanyeol refrained from huffing in annoyance when he noticed the worried look on Jongin’s face. He felt bad for wasting Jongin’s time; though he knew Jongin got credits from this as well, surely the boy had his own studies and practice to worry about aside from helping some drama student with two left feet. So Chanyeol sucked in a deep breath, and called for a start-over.
He let the music pump through his veins and drank in the sensuality of Jongin’s bitten red lips, the sway of his hips, the rippling muscles under his thin damp t-shirt. When he touched Jongin’s side this time, the brush of skin was no longer tentative but a solid upward drag from underneath Jongin’s shirt, smoothing over the soft hot skin of his waist. Tight muscles fluttered under his palm. The next beat, Jongin wrenched away from his grip, but Chanyeol’s grasp tightened more on him every time they brushed up against each other again. When the music finally faded away, Kris was clapping. Fire burned low Chanyeol’s stomach when he took a look at Jongin’s flushed, wide-eyed expression. It worked. It was exactly what they wanted.
It was easy to touch Jongin. His skin was always hot to the touch, even under the thin layer of the well-worn t-shirts he always wore. It was all too easy to get addicted to the slide of his fingers up Jongin’s hips, sometimes brushing over the jut of the boy’s hipbones. His nails accidentally scratched over Jongin’s belly button under his shirt once, and Jongin’s full-body shiver made him dizzy with the rush of blood to his head. He didn’t mean to, but he noticed the way Jongin’s dancer thighs twitched and tightened all the same. The realization stoked the fire in his stomach - the boy was terribly sensitive to touch.
Kris noticed, of course he did. The guy was the director, it was his job to observe and analyze. They were three beers into their usual late-night meal at a street stall in Hongdae when Chanyeol looked up from his tteokbokki to see Kris smirking at him.
“What, sauce on my face?”
“So, Kim Jongin.”
Chanyeol slurped as noisily as he could and nearly burned his throat in the process. He considered discreetly switching his spicy rice cakes with Kris’ non-spicy ones just so Kris could choke on them himself. Chanyeol ended up choking and coughing on his own rice cakes. When he looked up from wiping his face, Kris’ eyebrows were raised.
“Nice kid,” Chanyeol coughed lightly, grabbing his beer.
“Nice kid who’s pretty hot for you.”
Chanyeol choked on his beer, spraying his mouthful all over himself and half his food. Kris flinched backwards, grabbing a bunch of paper napkins to furiously wipe up himself despite not getting a drop of liquid on him.
“Fuck, you’re so gross, how does anyone even like you-“
Between his hacking coughs, Chanyeol struggled to calm his racing heart. “You’re an asshole, and that’s a terrible joke.”
Kris’ eyebrows raised even higher, but before he could say anything else, Chanyeol raised his chopsticks in Kris’ face with as much menace as he could manage (about the same as an angry puppy, his friend once commented). Kris gave him a judging look, but thankfully shrugged and dropped the subject.
Yet the thought haunted him. The thought haunted him when his eyes traced the nape of Jongin’s neck from behind, him thinking about the way Jongin twitched and shivered under his touch but never flinched or pulled away. Sometimes, just sometimes, it might have just been his imagination, but it felt like Jongin had started to relax and lean into his touch. His thoughts spun inside his head, and he grabbed Jongin during a break, fingers splayed casually over his shoulder blade. Jongin jumped at his touch, but didn’t pull away.
“Would you mind- I mean, I understand if you’re busy this evening and have better things to do with your time on a Thursday night, but I was wondering… the first full rehearsal is coming up soon and I feel like I need a little more practice, especially with the dance part, so maybe if- I mean I’d understand-“
“Chanyeol-hyung,” Jongin cut him off, a small amused smile on his lips, “sure, let’s stay behind for an hour or two this evening. I’ll help you with our part.”
When Jongin moved away, Chanyeol let out a long breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
Jongin was stretching when Chanyeol finally found his way to the small practice studio in the Dance department building. Chanyeol suspected this was Jongin’s hide-out, judging from the pile of clothes shoved into a corner of the room, some of them he had seen Jongin wear before. The room was small but looked more spacious as it was lined with mirrors floor to ceiling, bare except for a small speaker system in the corner and Jongin’s things. It was not even seven yet, but the whole place was eerily quiet. Chanyeol realized with a churning stomach that this was his first time alone with Jongin.
He shuffled in, feeling a little awkward as he said hello a little too loudly for the small room. Jongin look about the same, avoiding his eyes and mumbling his greetings, busying himself with his stretching routines. It was strange, but despite all the physical contact, Jongin and he had never talked much. Jongin was always quiet and kept to himself until he was called forwards for his part. Jongin blended into the background well, until he started to dance. The girls had tried to engage him in conversations at first, but it didn’t yield much success aside from some polite one-sentences. He would have thought Jongin was cold, except he’d seen the way Jongin’s eyes softened when he saw him lately.
Jongin had taken off the snapback he often wore, his fingers now running freely through soft shiny hair. He looked younger, like the first year kid he actually was. (‘Practically a baby,’ the girls always squealed.) Chanyeol wanted to touch as well, but the music had already started, and Jongin’s hips swayed to the music.
They went through the routine - five, six, seven, eight - Jongin helped him to match his movements more closely. To have better flow, Jongin said, he needed to relax, letting the music soak into his muscles. Jongin was standing so close, Chanyeol wondered if he could let the heat of Jongin’s body soak into his skin. A tight grip on his upper arm, a hand heavy on his hips. They went through the motions, Chanyeol letting Jongin’s body guide his moves. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the intimacy of their bodies touching, Jongin’s solid thigh brushing his every time he shifted. Away from dozens of eyes following their every move, every touch felt amplified and electrified.
Jongin turned, and Chanyeol shifted forwards, pressing his front against the boy’s back, enveloping him with his frame. He leaned down, mouth millimetres away from the curve of Jongin’s ear, breathing his whispers hot against the boy’s skin.
“Is this okay? Am I doing it right?”
“Y-yes…” The shudder of the body in his arms was impossible to miss. Chanyeol struggled not to smile and kiss the edge of Jongin’s ear.
This was not part of their choreography, but his fingers drifted up from underneath Jongin’s t-shirt, touching the warm smooth skin of the boy’s tummy, feeling it flutter under his fingers. He pressed closer, flush against Jongin’s body now, and there was no mistake in the way Jongin was leaning back into him, or the way his cock was firmly pressed into the cleft of the boy’s backside. There was no way Jongin could have missed it over the layers of their soft sweatpants, and the tiny gasp that escaped his throat when Chanyeol thrust up sparked a fire under his skin.
One hand roaming over Jongin’s stomach, the other holding on to his hips, Chanyeol followed the movements of Jongin’s hips with his cock sliding up and down the cleft of the boy’s ass, feeling it twitch and flex against Chanyeol’s hot and heavy hardness. He buried his nose into the nape of Jongin’s neck, mouthing along the boy’s soft skin and soft hair, teeth scratching and leaving faint biting marks. Jongin’s body writhed and shuddered against his, and he drank up the breathless gasps.
When he finally looked up to the mirror, the sight of Jongin’s dazed, flushed face sent a surge of heat through his body. He’d seen Jongin flushed from exertion, he’d seen Jongin dripping with sensuality when he danced, but it was never like this. Not like this, when Jongin looked dazed and weak-kneed with pleasure, plump lips parted with a litany of half-bitten gasps and tiny groans, so small against his frame. The thought sent him into a frenzy - that Jongin wanted him, really wanted him. He could feel it in the way the boy’s body arched into his touch. He loved it, the way Jongin’s body was hopelessly receptive and sensitive to him.
Just a few steps forwards had Jongin pressed against the mirror, trapped between his reflection and Chanyeol’s body. Chanyeol pulled Jongin’s hips out at an angle, lining it up perfectly with his thrusts. From over Jongin’s shoulders, he could see the way the boy’s lips were mouthing against the cold glass, hot breath fogging up the surface every time he was rocked forwards into the mirror, eyes fluttering closed. It felt good just to rut into Jongin’s body like this, even over the layers of their clothes. They were pressed shoulders to shoulders, hips to hips, and the heat was heady and dizzying.
His hand on Jongin’s hips pushed the waistband of Jongin’s pants down past his hipbones, slipping inside to wrap around Jongin’s cock. The boy let out a loud moan that was immediately cut off when his hand flew up to smother his cries, his body shuddering in pleasure. Chanyeol pulled Jongin’s knuckles away from his mouth, chastising.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I want to hear you.”
He played with Jongin’s cock, stroking with an assured pace, thumb swiping over the head every time he rocked a little bit harder forwards. Jongin’s hips stuttered, stuck between fucking back onto Chanyeol’s cock and thrusting into his grip. He had started to whine now, bursts of high, needy moans that stopped short every time he remembered himself and bit down on his lip. Chanyeol was determined to make Jongin lose his reserved shyness, his pace getting faster and faster, but soon he was the one losing control, because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Jongin’s red swollen lips in the mirror, panting out cries of ’hyung, hyung… please-’
“Please what, Jonginnie?” He breathed hot against the boy’s earlobe, his voice hoarse and wrecked with lust.
“Don’t…” Jongin cried, eyes squeezed shut. His body suddenly went taut against Chanyeol’s, and his cock jumped in Chanyeol’s grip. He stared in fascination at the boy’s expression in the mirror as Jongin came all over Chanyeol’s fingers, Chanyeol’s hips snapping on auto pilot into Jongin’s stuttering hips. It shouldn’t have felt that good but it did, and pleasure exploded in him when he felt Jongin’s pert ass tighten under his cock, driving him straight over the edge.
He came to himself only to realize he had pressed Jongin flush against the mirror. Chanyeol took a shaky step back, hands shooting out to hold Jongin’s hips when the boy stumbled. Fuck his life, Chanyeol thought. He had just dry-humped a boy into the mirror and embarrassingly came in his pants like a teenager. To make matters more surreal, the boy was fucking Kim Jongin.
Jongin was still shivering slightly in the aftermath, but he was starting to hunch into himself again.
“There’s a…” Jongin let out a small sigh when Chanyeol’s thumb brushed over his exposed hipbone. “There’s a shower down the hall…”
Jongin pulled away from his grasp and shuffled out of the room without a single look backwards before he could pick up his brain to form a word.
The good thing was Chanyeol had never been one for awkward unsure situations. He was resourceful, and he was never one to give up without a fight, as long as he knew what he wanted. Jongin’s abnormally expressive shocked face when Chanyeol appeared at his table at lunchtime was all worth it. He was about to open his mouth when he noticed the slightly hostile raised eyebrows of the other occupants at the table, who were clearly Jongin’s friends. Chanyeol quickly revised his strategy.
“Can we talk?” Chanyeol beamed his most harmless and genuine smile. No teeth. Jongin fumbled with his chicken piece, but hastily stumbled out of his seat anyway. Both of them ignored the skeptical gaze of Jongin’s friends as they moved to a table far out.
Jongin kept fidgeting with the straw of his drink, biting down on his fingers every few seconds as he avoided Chanyeol’s gaze. Chanyeol had never seen Jongin this flustered, and the anxiety was starting to make his stomach flutter with nerves as well. Jongin’s lips were pressed tight around his straw now, making him look like he was swallowing his words. Chanyeol decided he might as well hit the bulls eye, get it over and done with.
“Would you like to go out with me?”
Jongin expectedly spluttered and choked on his drink. Chanyeol handed him a prepared napkin.
“Don’t joke like that,” Jongin coughed out, his expression oddly dark as he glanced away from him. Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed.
“It isn’t a joke. I can be serious. Sometimes.”
“And this is not one of those times?”
“No- hey.” Chanyeol was starting to fidget now. This wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. He wanted to reach out and grasp Jongin’s hands, but he was afraid it would just spook him further. He glanced around the crowded cafeteria. “Hey, would you mind if I stopped by your dance practice room later this afternoon?”
Jongin finally raised his head to stare at him, wide-eyed.
Jongin let him wind an arm around his waist, let Chanyeol push him against the mirror. Jongin’s eyes looking up at him were dark and imploring, and so Chanyeol leaned down, pressing his mouth against the upwards tilt of Jongin’s plush lips. Chanyeol moved his mouth over the soft bumps and curves, tracing Jongin’s silence with his lips. Arousal spiked in his guts when the tip of his tongue slipped between those lips and Jongin opened up for him, shy and hesitant, but the wetness of his mouth was hot and heady.
Chanyeol kissed him, sweet and slow and tentative, so unlike the day before. Jongin was pliant under his touch, but so solid and warm. His tongue flicked into the boy’s mouth again and again, drawing out startled moans and breathless whines from the back of Jongin’s throat. Jongin tried to keep quiet, but it was a lost cause once Chanyeol had his hand wrapped around the boy’s cock. Chanyeol guided him to return the favour this time, and Jongin flushed a pretty red when his fingers gingerly closed around Chanyeol’s cock, so hot and hard in his hand.
“Have you ever…?” Chanyeol licked Jongin’s kiss-swollen lips, hips stuttering against Jongin’s intentionally teasing touch. Jongin shook his head, burying his face against Chanyeol’s shoulders, and it made arousal blaze in his veins. He brought Jongin to completion first, and then pushed the boy’s pants down to his knees, letting Jongin’s unsure hands stroke him until he came all over the soft hot skin of Jongin’s inner thighs, smeared together with the remnants of Jongin’s come.
Jongin was quiet when Chanyeol grabbed a towel to clean him off, but he didn’t look like he was going to bolt out of the door anytime soon, so Chanyeol counted that as a small victory.
“Why were you so dismissive when I first asked this morning?” Chanyeol rested his chin on Jongin’s shoulders where they were splaying out on the floor of the practice room. The boy had sharp shoulders, but plenty of space. Jongin was quiet for a long time, and Chanyeol had almost drifted off when he finally spoke.
“In your Drama class… people were saying that… Kris and you were together. I just- I mean, it’s okay if you are…”
Chanyeol bolted up, staring at Jongin’s flushed face in shock. “They said what?” Kris and he were friends, and sure, sometimes he liked to make Kris his footrest, but what the hell… “Where the hell did they even get that? I’ve never even heard of this.”
Jongin’s eyes shifted back to him. “So… are you?”
“No!” Chanyeol shouted in indignation. If it turned out this Kris thing had been cockblocking him all this time, he was going to sabotage his entire class, final production be damned. “Who told you this?”
“Uh, it doesn’t matter, it’s okay now.” Jongin’s expression had softened into a genuine smile, and Chanyeol stilled. His lips twitched up in a smile of their own, and he leaned down, fitting his mouth against Jongin’s plush swollen lips.
Jongin never quite stopped being hyper-sensitive to his touch, and it drove Chanyeol up the wall. Jongin still shied away from him in public, and they never really told anyone they were together now, but Jongin in their private moments was addicted to Chanyeol’s touch. Chanyeol soon learned this, and it was impossible for him not to play with the idea. He touched Jongin during the day - seemingly innocent brushes of hands against Jongin’s back, accidental scratches across the nape of his neck - and Jongin never failed to shiver and lean into his touch in that moment, eyelids fluttering. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t just pull Jongin aside to some dark corner and ravish the life out of him.
Actually, sometimes he did. He snapped on a Friday afternoon, after a full week of those teasing tiny little touches, and called a halt to rehearsal just right after Jongin put a hand on him for their part. Jongin backed away in shock when Chanyeol abruptly pulled away, shouting at A/V to stop the music.
“We need to talk,” he said, and barely paid attention to Kris’ raised eyebrows when he stormed out of the room, expecting Jongin to follow. Of course Jongin did, and got slammed against the wall of the storage room at the end of the hall when he finally caught up to Chanyeol.
“What the fuck, Chanyeol-“
Chanyeol’s mouth was on him in the next second, hot and frantic as his tongue pried open and licked into the heat of Jongin’s soft, wet mouth. They had been so busy running themselves ragged for the last round of preparations this week, their evenings backed up with coursework and rehearsal way into the late hours, and he had been aching for this. His hands roamed up Jongin’s shirt, drinking in the heat of his skin and the flutter of his muscles, tugging the thin fabric up until his thumbs were flicking Jongin’s nipples into hardened pebbles. He swallowed Jongin’s cries, and cursed himself for getting addicted too much too fast to the boy in his arms.
Jongin was melting into his touch now, hips undulating against Chanyeol’s body, rubbing his cock up Chanyeol’s thigh. Fucking dancer hips – Chanyeol squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure shot down his spine. Jongin was mouthing hot wet kisses against his neck now, and his vision went hazy for a moment. Jongin let out a startled cry when Chanyeol tugged at the waistband of his pants, pushing it to the top of his thighs, revealing the hard-on tenting up underneath his cotton briefs. Jongin’s thighs slammed closed, but Chanyeol’s knee was wedging inbetween them at the same time he reached out to lock the door of the tiny storage room.
“Jongin, please,” Chanyeol held onto Jongin’s hips, turning them over, careful not to let anything sharp dig into the boy’s body when he pressed him against the shelves. He tugged Jongin’s briefs down to his thighs, and the sight of Jongin’s tight pert ass was perfect from behind. He watched the flex of muscles, thinking about how tight Jongin would squeeze around him if he slid a finger into him right then, and his face flushed with heat. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. They didn’t have anything, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Jongin.
“Hyung, what-“ Jongin was breathing out his shaky words, and Chanyeol ran a reassuring hand over the pert globes of the boy’s ass, fingers parting them as his hands slid up, revealing a hint of the tight dark pink hole.
“I won’t hurt you,” Chanyeol groaned out, short of breath himself. “I know you’re not ready. I will just-“ His fingers trailed down the back of Jongin’s thighs, slipping in the soft hot crevice between the boy’s closed legs, his palm cupping a handful of Jongin’s pert ass. “But you’ll have to be quiet, because someone might walk past or come looking for us. Is that okay, Jonginnie?”
Jongin’s thighs quivered around the fingers sliding up and down between his legs. He was turning to look at Chanyeol now, eyes dark and mouth swollen red, looking debauched with his ass being fondled in Chanyeol’s large hands.
“Okay... okay.” Jongin breathed out, ass tilting up to Chanyeol’s touch. Chanyeol sucked in a deep breath, running a hand up the sweet dip of Jongin’s back as the boy leaned forwards, letting Chanyeol do whatever he wanted with his lower half.
“Close your legs… as tight as you could.” Chanyeol pulled his fingers out, tapping the back of Jongin’s muscled thighs. He pushed Jongin’s briefs and pants down to below his knees, and stepped forwards to line his hips up with the boy’s. Chanyeol pulled down his own pants, taking his cock out. He trailed it down the cleft of Jongin’s ass at first, hearing the sharp intake of the boy’s breath when it brushed over his hole. He let the tip of his cock dip slightly into the tightness for a brief second, and his breath stuttered when Jongin squeezed around him. Their breathing was loud in the tiny room, skin prickling at every single sound outside their little world.
Chanyeol trailed his cock down, finally slipping between Jongin’s tightly pressed thighs with a loud sigh. He knew it wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was so hot, so tight all the same. He started slow, thrusting in and out at a leisurely pace, letting his pre-come wet Jongin’s inner thighs and smooth his way. Soon he was able to fuck into Jongin’s thighs more easily, the slap of his hips against Jongin’s legs wet and lewd. It was all too easy to imagine he was fucking into Jongin like this, his boyfriend bent over in a tiny storage room, biting into his arm to keep down his cries.
“Does it feel good, Jonginnie?” He leaned down, biting his question into the edge of Jongin’s ear, hips pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm.
Jongin whined low in his throat, pushing his ass back even more for Chanyeol. His thighs tightened rhythmically around Chanyeol’s cock, riding the high of Chanyeol’s body pressed against his own and Chanyeol’s hardness between his legs. His eyes fluttered shut every time the head of Chanyeol’s cock brushed against his balls. Jongin’s cock was dripping with pre-come now, swinging and slapping hard against his stomach every time Chanyeol rocked into him. He barely remembered to bite down on his lips when Chanyeol’s hand reached down to wrap around his cock, his grip tight and restrictive as he fucked harder into him.
Their hearts dropped out of their ribcages when there was a sudden shout outside the hallway.
“Chanyeol? Chanyeol? Are you here?”
Kris. He was just shouting outside; he didn’t know where they were. Jongin’s hands flew up to claw at his grip on the boy’s hips, but it was impossible for him to stop. Chanyeol slowed down his pace, but his hips were still snapping forwards, relishing in the tight warmth of Jongin’s body, chasing his pleasure. He was close, so close, he could feel it in his bones.
As if on cue, Jongin’s cock twitched hard in his grip as Chanyeol’s thumb brushed over its head, Jongin’s body slackening in pleasure. Chanyeol quickly slapped a hand over Jongin’s mouth to muffle his choked cry.
“We’re on break now, but I just want to let you know we’re starting back up in ten minutes, so get your asses back before I find them and kick you back in!”
Fuck, Chanyeol mouthed against Jongin’s shoulders as his hips stuttered, snapping forwards, rocking Jongin hard against the shelves. It was the final straw, as Chanyeol’s grip unconsciously tightened around Jongin and he shuddered, coming hard all over Chanyeol’s hand. In the last second, Jongin barely had enough mind to take Chanyeol’s fingers into his mouth, choking himself to stop the loud cry bubbling up from his throat.
The sudden sensation of Jongin’s hot wet mouth sucking at his fingers was too much, and Chanyeol pulled his cock out, jerking himself off with the other hand, spraying hot come all over the back of Jongin’s thighs and ass. He watched in a daze as the muscles of Jongin’s red hot thighs flexed and quivered, with his come trickling down the boy’s legs.
Chanyeol brushed his come-smeared hand over the back of Jongin’s knees, earning an elbow to his chest.
“God, you’re terrible. You’d better pray Kris was already gone…” Jongin groaned, struggling to stand up with his shaky legs.
“I don’t give a fuck, really.” Chanyeol grinned, too satiated to care. “He can listen in as much as he wants.”
Yet, Chanyeol wasn’t that blissed out to miss the shiver that ran through Jongin’s body and the sudden flush of his face.
The day of the performance slammed into all of them like a tidal wave. He could barely see Jongin aside from the few times they rehearsed their short scenes together for the final dress rehearsal. The rest of the time, Chanyeol was running himself ragged from the first act to the final act, going over and over rewritten lines and last-minute set changes.
He was vibrating with nerves behind the curtains, shaky on an overload of caffeine and adrenaline, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand tentatively touched his back. He whirled around, sucking in a breath when he saw Jongin standing just behind him, eyes dark and huge with kohl-lined shadows. His spirit of temptation. Chanyeol sneaked a hand behind him, and Jongin squeezed it tight. Chanyeol took a deep breath, and the lights went out.
The play was a success, of course it was. They took their final bow in resounding clapping and cheering. Chanyeol felt like he was flying on clouds when he struggled through the crowded hallway to barge into the changing room, whooping and shouting all the way. He nearly tripped over his sister, squashing her giant flower bouquet as he stumbled into her open arms.
“You were pretty cute,” Yura shouted in the chaos, slapping his shoulders hard. Chanyeol groaned but laughed anyway, hugging her tighter. “Fucking missed you, too.”
“Will you stay for the after party?” He asked, swaying her from side to side in his arms. It’d been such a long time since he’d had a chance to properly talk to her.
“You know I can’t.” She pursed her lips, jabbing his stomach with her clutch. “I just stopped by to say hi and dropped you some flowers. I’ll see you again at the Christmas party next week, right? Let’s catch up then.”
Chanyeol slowed down his swaying, his nose scrunching up as her words sank in. “Ah, fuck, right, the Christmas party.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot. Or not going.” They looked the same, but Yura was about twenty times more menacing when she tried, which was all a bit too unfair. Chanyeol pouted. At least he was good at this.
“No, yeah, I’m going. But you know I’m not going to stay for long.”
“Oh c’mon, mom and dad miss you, too. Bring your plus one this year, it’ll be fun!” Just as he was about to open his mouth, she shut him up with a sharp glare. “And don’t tell me you don’t have one right now. You’re glowing.”
“Might have something to do with the fact that I’ve just successfully completed the final production of my acting degree.”
“Or that your someone is standing over there in a corner glowering at us.”
Chanyeol snapped his head around, catching a familiar dark head disappearing into the crowd.
“I have to go now,” Yura tapped his shoulders, and she was smirking when he turned back. “I’ll see you later. Have fun, little pup.” And just like that, his sister strode away, melting into the crowd with a wave and an air kiss.
Chanyeol managed to catch up to Jongin just when they were all pouring out on to the streets to get to the after party. The boy was back in his casual clothes, all bundled up in a thick winter coat and giant woollen scarf. He had taken off most of his make-up, but there was still the faint smudge of dark kohl underneath his eyes when he tilted his head up to look at Chanyeol, eyes black in the dark.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t catch you earlier. My sister made a surprise visit. In case you didn’t know that was my sister.” Chanyeol turned on his brightest grin and felt warmth flood his ribcage when the strong set of Jongin’s jaws softened.
“Of course I knew,” Jongin rolled his eyes, tugging up the collar of his coat to hide his flush. “You should have spent more time talking to her.” A beat, then, “Your sister is really pretty.”
“Yeah, not like we look like twins or anything.” Chanyeol grinned, earning a shove to his chest and a twitching smile at the corner of Jongin’s lips. Chanyeol wrapped his arm over Jongin’s shoulders, pulling the fluffy fur hood of Jongin’s coat over his head, leading them into the cold.
All of them were dead on their feet, but everyone seemed to have decided, if they were going to crash, they might as well go all out. The bass was pounding in his veins, burning them up with liquor and excess adrenaline. He had lost count after the fifth vodka shot, though he knew that had been enough for him to pull Jongin out to the dance floor with him. Jongin had laughed, of course, but he had also let Chanyeol press flush against him, their bodies swaying together to the music. Jongin never would have allowed that if he had been sober, but he just laughed and leaned back into Chanyeol’s touch on his hips when their friends cheered, loud and hysterical, probably thinking it was just them being crazy.
Chanyeol drank it all up - Jongin’s body hot and loose-limbed in his grasp, the dizzying rush of the bass lines and liquor in his veins, the heady sense of freedom that he could do anything in the dark and it would all be fine in the morning after.
“Let’s go, hyung,” Jongin was smiling up at him, eyes glazed, and it took Chanyeol too long to realize Jongin was trying to pull him out of the crowd. The alcohol must have been getting to both of them, because Jongin stumbled on his second step. Chanyeol’s hands flew up to catch him, but there was suddenly a pair of hands steadying Jongin’s hips from behind. Large hands trailed up to hold the boy’s waist in place, and Jongin tittered in the other’s grasp, leaning heavily against a much larger frame.
“Don’t drop your boy so easily,” Kris grinned from behind Jongin, a hand reaching up to ruffle his already disheveled hair. Jongin’s head leaned against Kris’ shoulders, the boy’s hands reaching up to grasp at Kris’ shirt, keeping his balance. Chanyeol stepped forwards, leaning close until he was pressed against Jongin’s front, leaving the boy trapped between two bodies. He stared into his friend’s eyes, dark in the flashing lights, but all he could see was the smile on his lips. Jongin was hot and pliant between them, stretches of bare skin shiny with a sheen of sweat. A hand tugged at the front of his shirt, and Chanyeol looked down to see Jongin’s eyes staring up at him, the boy’s lips parted like a soundless invitation. He held his arms forwards and let Jongin fall back into him, pulling the boy away from Kris’ grasp.
“Thanks,” Chanyeol grinned above Jongin’s messy head, leading his armful of warmth away from the chaos.
The world was spinning with heat when he got Jongin splayed out on the bed in his apartment, pliant and whining low in his throat. They had been making out long enough for both of them to have kicked off their pants and underwear, legs intertwined as they rocked into each other, hips lazily hitching together, their cocks brushing. Jongin’s mouth was wet and swollen, tongue shyly flicking into Chanyeol’s mouth while he returned the favour with his usual enthusiasm. The alcohol coursing through his veins had Jongin all loose-limbed and giggly, eyes bright with mischief.
It took Chanyeol by surprise when Jongin broke away from their endless kisses, sliding down his body until his mouth was hovering above Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol held his breath as the boy stared down at his fully hard cock, fingers tentatively stroking upwards. Fuck his life, because he couldn’t remember how many times he had fantasized about Jongin’s sinful plush lips stretching tight around his cock. They had made out and groped each other often enough, but somehow he’d never had Jongin put his mouth on his cock. The pout of Jongin’s lips were red and soft now, the wetness glistening under the low light, millimetres away from the head of Chanyeol’s cock.
Chanyeol let out a broken groan when Jongin leaned down, letting the head of his cock dip in between his plush lips. Jongin went slow and tentative, lips wrapping hot around his cock, letting it push deeper and deeper into his mouth. There was no coordination or finesse, but the boy was all worth it despite his awkward inexperience. Chanyeol’s hips jerked when Jongin’s tongue flicked up under his heavy cock, the boy letting out a startled choked noise and tilting his head to the side to look up at him. The sight of Jongin’s wide dark eyes and those swollen red lips wrapped around his cock was just too much, and Chanyeol frantically fucked into the boy’s mouth for a few shallow thrusts before he pulled out and came all over his hand, painting Jongin’s well-used reddened lips with sticky come from the head of his cock.
When he came back to his senses, Jongin was lying on his side, mouthing his come-stained lips against Chanyeol’s thigh as his hips canted towards the bed, desperate for friction. Chanyeol dragged himself up, leaning forwards to open up Jongin’s legs with his knees, and they parted for him in abandon. He ran his hands down Jongin’s inner thighs, and they were so hot to the touch. Jongin jerked when fingers dipped between the cleft of his bottom, brushing over his hole.
“I won’t hurt you,” Chanyeol breathed, pressing a soft kiss against Jongin’s knee. “Just my fingers, is that okay?” A tiny nod was all he waited for. He was prepared this time, grabbing the small tube just up his bedside drawer. Chanyeol let the tip of his finger tease the boy’s fluttering entrance, wetting it with lube. Jongin squeezed gently around his fingertip, and the sensation made him dizzy with want. The slide in of his finger was slow, the pressure unbelievably tight and hot around his digit. “Is this okay, Jonginnie?”
Jongin whimpered in reply, his hips shifting slightly at the foreign sensation. Chanyeol started to drag his finger out, only to thrust back in when there was only the tip left. Jongin’s breath hitched, his muscles fluttering tight around the intrusive finger.
“Have you ever done this, Jonginnie? Tease your little hole with your fingers?” Chanyeol’s teeth were scratching against Jongin’s knee now, drawing in little twitches of the sensitive body beneath him. Jongin shook his head, cheeks flushed with heat, but his knees were all drawn up high together, exposing his backside for Chanyeol to explore. Two fingers slipped in just as easy with the smooth glide of lube. He was picking up his pace now, fucking into Jongin instead of just testing out his limit. Jongin was crying out for it, hips quaking and tight muscles contracting around Chanyeol’s fingers.
“Feels good?” The squelching noise of his fingers fucking in and out of Jongin was dirty and obscene. Jongin was arching up from the bed, his legs still held up Chanyeol’s arm.
“So… so good… hyung please…” Jongin was whimpering nonsense now, but it still had heat spark in Chanyeol’s guts. He had come already, but that didn’t stop him from taking Jongin apart with pleasure.
“You love getting fucked like this, don’t you? Jongin-ah, what would everyone think if they saw you like this? Always so calm, so shy, but here you are, three fingers up your ass and still crying for me to fuck you faster, harder.” Jongin’s eyes fluttered shut, his cheeks hot with shame and desire. He took Jongin’s swollen cock in his other hand, stroking frantically to the pace his fingers was setting. Jongin bucked into his touch, his lithe body flushed with the uncontrollable urge to fall apart in Chanyeol’s hands. “What would Kris say if he saw?”
Jongin’s cock jerked in his hand, and it was impossible to miss the way Jongin’s inner walls suddenly squeezed hard around his fingers, hips twitching up. Chanyeol had been right after all.
“Would you want that? Kris-hyung looking at how obscene you are behind your shy glances, fucking yourself on my fingers? Would you want him to watch while I bend you over and fuck you in the storage room at school, or would you want him to join in and wet your mouth with pre-come from his dick?” Jongin’s breath was coming up ragged, faster and faster now, his face red and his mouth slack with pleasure. Chanyeol’s thrusts were relentless, sending red hot pleasure up his spine with his precise strokes inside Jongin’s tight hole and the continuous low timbre of his voice. “How about me on one side and him on the other, you getting fucked on both ends until you’re crying for it?”
In the next beat, Jongin’s hips stuttered and he arched up, shooting his release all over his stomach and Chanyeol’s grip.
They never quite talked about what Chanyeol had drunkenly rambled that night as he brought Jongin to orgasm, but Jongin let him add finger-fucking to their list of make-out activities. Jongin loved it, though he would never say. He would just jut his ass out when they were making out, shyly pulling Chanyeol’s hands to cup his buttocks. Chanyeol was always more than happy to oblige, relishing in the tightness of Jongin’s body, imagining what it would be like to sink his cock into that tight pert ass. Jongin wasn’t quite ready, he knew, but he was happy to wait.
Even so, he probably should not have mentioned the news when he was two knuckles deep into Jongin’s ass after a long day.
“You want me to what?” Jongin broke off with a loud gasp as fingers brushed up inside him. “C-come to your family’s Christmas gathering?”
“I know it sounds awkward but really there will be a lot of people there, you might not even have to meet my family, we’ll leave early anyway. I just have to turn up but I will die of boredom by myself, so just for a little while is it-“
“Chanyeol, hyung, stop.” Jongin nudged him hard with his knee. “Stop talking. And okay.” Just as a reminder, Jongin tightened around his fingers. Chanyeol’s eyelids fluttered with heat.
“Okay?” He breathed out, thrusting in again, thumb brushing the lube-slick rim of Jongin’s hole.
He knew it was a mistake the moment he pulled the car to a stop in front of the grand entrance of the main building and they stepped out into the evening air. All emotions drained right off Jongin’s face, his eyes sweeping over the shimmering lights, glass walls, marble steps, and the women and men in luxurious silk, cashmere, and fur.
“Young master,” The old valet appeared by his side, and Chanyeol awkwardly dropped his car key to the man, careful to avoid Jongin’s scrutinizing stare. When the car had been whisked off, Chanyeol reached out to wrap his arm around Jongin’s waist like he always did, but stopped short when he remembered where he was. Jongin’s eyes trailed after his faltering hand that eventually dropped to his side. They stopped in the middle of the stairs, high enough for Jongin to see the party going on in the glass-walled ballroom.
“Sorry,” Chanyeol blurted out, unable to handle the silence anymore. “I should have-“
“You said we were going to your parents’ house.”
Chanyeol nodded, looking anywhere but Jongin’s eyes.
“When you said family gathering, I didn’t really expect a scene out of The Heirs.” Jongin’s voice was soft, but there was no warmth in it. “What does your family do?”
“Real estate… investment… things.” Chanyeol grimaced. “I should have told you sooner, I know, but I…” He trailed off, unsure what to say to explain himself now, because keeping his background hidden from friends and acquaintances had always been an automatic defence.
“I brought a gift,” Jongin raised the gift-wrapped wine bottle he had been holding on to. “But I can see it’s not really going to be necessary.” He inclined his head towards the wait staff who were walking around with trays of Champagne glasses.
“No, I’ll take it,” Chanyeol hastily reached out to grab the bottle from Jongin’s hands. “Thank you.” He tugged at the lapel of his tux. “Look, we don’t have to go in. It’s really boring anyway, just a lot of standing around and posturing. My parents just keep doing it every year, I just show my face out of obligation. We can go.”
Jongin shook his head. “You should at least say hi to your family first. We can stay for a while. Just go do your social thing.”
“I don’t even know anyone-“
“Hey.” A more than familiar voice had both of them startled, whirling around to look at the owner.
“Okay, except for that one.” Chanyeol sighed, waving his friend over. Jongin’s eyes were wide, staring at Kris who was all dressed up in a black tux and cream cashmere scarf draped over his shoulders. “Family friends. We’ve known each other for quite a while.” Chanyeol held out his arm, drawing Kris into a hug when he reached them.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Kris stepped back, smiling at them and looking genuinely excited to be escaping death by boredom by himself. “You look good,” He raked his eyes over Jongin’s form, and the boy ducked his head, looking flustered. The damn thing was Jongin did look delectable, dressed in a crisp black shirt and black slacks that perfectly hugged the curve of his ass, hair slicked up in a careless sweep. Jongin looked good, and Chanyeol was dying to get the hell out of there.
“Hey Chanyeol, Yura’s looking for you by the way. Your parents made her play host this year and it’s driving her up the wall.”
Chanyeol groaned, tugging on Jongin’s sleeves. “Okay, fine, let’s go rescue my sister from the monster of socializing, and then we can get the hell out of here.”
Except there were obstacles left and right on his path to rescuing the princess of the day, people jumping out from all directions to say hi to him, catch up, introduce, ask him about his studies, inquire after future plans for his career, and all the secrets to the universe. Be charming, be well-poised, Chanyeol repeated his mantra and gritted his teeth, putting on his best actor smile. His mom fussed over him for a few minutes when he finally fought his way to Yura and a group of old people who looked like they were killing themselves with boredom and wine, but then she was off to be the social butterfly again.
“I’m leaving in five minutes,” he whispered to Yura who was probably tearing her facial muscles by over-smiling.
“I hate you,” she hissed back under her pearl white teeth.
Except five minutes turned into ten, then fifteen, and then half an hour had passed, and he was still stuck chatting to a bunch of girls who were daughters and nieces of his mother’s friends’ business partners… or whomever. They were nice, and he had actually talked to them before, but Chanyeol was starting to feel panic bubble up in his stomach when he realized he had lost track of Jongin somewhere along his dizzying social trek.
Chanyeol hastily excused himself, pushing past people, grabbing some he had talked to in the last hour. “Have you seen my friend-“ Chanyeol stopped short, stomach twisting when he suddenly realized he couldn’t see a familiar blond head towering above the crowd either. He strode up to a girl who he knew had been eyeing them when they’d first stepped in earlier.
“Have you seen Kris Wu?”
The girl blinked, flustered as she stared up at his face, then quickly realized her action and averted her gaze to the entrance. “Uhh, he left with his friend just a moment ago…”
Chanyeol bit down a curse, thanking her and then rushing out of the door, taking two steps at a time down the stairs. Ignoring the valet’s greetings, he ran to the gate just in time to see Kris’ familiar car pulling out. His heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach when he recognized Jongin’s figure in the passenger seat. Chanyeol caught up just when the car was halfway out of the gate. He rapped his knuckles on the glass, and Kris rolled down his window. Jongin was really sitting on the other side.
“Are you leaving? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kris didn’t say anything, just turning to look at Jongin who was sitting stock still in his seat, face expressionless but eyes refusing to meet his.
“You looked busy, I didn’t want to intrude. You should go back in, Chanyeol, your family need you there.” Jongin’s voice was soft - that flat, empty tone he had used before. “I’m not feeling too well so Kris said he’d take me home, it’s okay.”
It clearly wasn’t fucking okay, but Kris was giving him a salute and rolling his window back up. “I’ll call you after I drop him off,” Kris said, but Chanyeol was frozen on his feet, staring as the car pulled away and started cruising down the cobbled path.
Chanyeol turned off his phone on the way back to his apartment, and left it there for the next several days.
Chanyeol turned on his phone on Wednesday to about seventeen missed calls and dozens of messages. He deleted all of them without looking. His fingers swiped over the screen of his phone, stopping in a few brief seconds of hesitation, but eventually he pulled up a familiar name and hit call.
Jongin picked up on the first ring.
“Hey. I left you some messages.” Jongin sounded breathless on the other end of the line, the same way he did whenever he was in the middle of dance practice. Chanyeol’s heart clenched at the familiarity, and his grip tightened around the phone.
“Can we- Can I come pick you up? Are you at the studio?” It was winter holiday, but of course Jongin would be there.
“Sure, I’ll finish up in fifteen.” Jongin answered without hesitation, and for some reasons it warmed Chanyeol’s heart.
When he pulled up his car outside of the dance studio, Jongin was already there waiting for him in his knitted beanie and oversized scarf, his nose red from the cold. He struggled to throw his bag into the backseat (“Why on earth is there so much stuff in your backseat today? Are you moving to Canada?”) and then slid into the car next to Chanyeol. They drove in silence for a while, Jongin fidgeting with the stereo for a while before giving up.
They both stopped, glancing at each other with a wry smile on their lips.
“Look, I understand,” Jongin shook his head, smiling lightly. “Do you know why I kept thinking it was a joke that first time you asked me out? It just didn’t seem right. I was just some quiet, awkward kid who stumbled into your crowd. People stare at you, Chanyeol. You could have had anyone.”
“But I wanted you,” Chanyeol’s voice was small, but he knew Jongin heard him. The boy let out a loud sigh.
“Yeah, so you did. What I’m saying is… I left early that night because what I saw only confirmed to me what I’d always been afraid of - that you could have so many better choices, and that was just another world I didn’t quite belong to. But then I went home and thought about it and realized it was just my own regurgitated insecurity. Kris told me about you; I got where you were coming from. The thing is… my family are not bad off or anything, we do okay by all standards, but what you suddenly threw me into… that came as a shock. The truth is I don’t mind that you’re some chaebol heir or whatever, clearly we’ve been getting along just fine without it touching any aspect of our… relationship, but what I don’t like is how you didn’t trust me.”
Chanyeol opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when Jongin held up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean to, but I thought we’d moved past that. You hid it from me with good intentions, but what happened was I felt like you didn’t trust me enough to open yourself up to me. Strange that, for all intents and purposes, all your obnoxious loudness and over-friendly manners aside, you’re not an open person at all, Park Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I know, I’m-“
“Don’t apologize for who you are. Apologize because you made a mistake.”
“You sound very mature, Kim Eunsang.” Chanyeol chuckled, shaking his head, then his voice softened. “Yeah, no, thank you. I’m sorry for throwing you into the deep end without telling you anything beforehand. It was just… I kept putting it off, and by then it was already too late.” He took a deep breath, palms sweeping over the steering wheel. “I don’t know how much Kris told you, but growing up… I am, you could say, the grey sheep of the family. I play my part, but… Don’t get me wrong, my parents love me, but all my decisions, the things that I love, they still think it’s all just a phase that will pass. They don’t really get it, and I doubt they ever will. It’s just… different worlds, you know? Yura, my sister, she’s my best friend, but she’s being groomed for the family business now instead of me, so she’s just… too busy. In the end, it’s just better for me to keep my distance.”
“You never would have told me if you didn’t have to, would you?”
“Jongin… I brought you there, didn’t I? I’ll admit, it was a terrible move, but I wanted to tell you.”
They fell back into silence, but this time, the air was lighter. It felt like he had just shoved a mountain off his shoulders, and the anxiety knotting in his stomach had all loosened up… except for one.
“That night when you left with Kris…” Chanyeol hesitated, glancing at Jongin out of the corner of his eyes. “Did you… I mean, did he… do anything?”
Jongin’s shoulders tensed up. Chanyeol could see the hint of white teeth when the boy bit down on his lip. It was crazy, but he found his eyes flickering down to Jongin’s neck, looking for any sign.
“No,” The boy started then stopped. “Nothing- nothing happened. We just talked about you… and he drove me home.”
“Jongin… it’s okay.”
The boy was silent for a few seconds, and then breathed out in a rush. “It was nothing. He just… touched my legs.”
The sudden image of Kris putting his large hands up Jongin’s thighs made Chanyeol’s belly tighten with heat. He wasn’t exactly sure this was the reaction he was supposed to be having. When he spoke, his voice came out low and raspy. “But it turned you on, didn’t it?”
Jongin had turned away, looking out of the window now to avoid his eyes, fingers curled tightly in his laps. His words came out halted and small. “It- it just didn’t feel right… without you.”
Chanyeol sucked in a breath, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. Jongin leaned his whole body against the window, pressing his cheek against the glass, watching the grey-tinted highways of winter-frosted Seoul fly past.
“Where are we going?” Jongin shifted up in his seat when it was clear that they were going out of the city and Chanyeol was heading towards Incheon.
“The airport,” Chanyeol ran a hand through his hair, his smile sheepish now. “Though let me be clear, I planned this before the Christmas party thing, but I guess you could take it as an apology now.”
“Don’t worry, I already asked your sister to pack your passport and some of your clothes, they’re in one of the bags behind.”
Jongin whirled around, wide-eyed. “You met my sister? And you’re kidnapping me?”
Jongin spent the entire flight fidgeting in his seat and casting furtive glances out of the tiny window, seeing nothing but white clouds and the faint stretch of endless blue beneath. Chanyeol’s stomach had been doing somersaults since take-off.
He tried to be all sunny smiles and jokes when they boarded the airplane, but Jongin was quiet for the whole flight. It wasn’t anything unusual - Jongin had never been the biggest chatterbox even when he was in a good mood - but it still made nervous energy ramp up in him. Chanyeol spent the flight alternating between staring intently at the nape of Jongin’s neck (so smooth, even after the countless times Chanyeol had marked him) and trying to keep his distance in a valiant effort not to spook him, as if Jongin would open the emergency door and jump out of the plane at a moment’s notice. He’d taken too much effort to put this plan into motion, betting on his chances and Jongin’s fondness for him. He wanted this to be perfect, as clichéd as it sounded.
A surprise tropical holiday, and he was going to be alone with Jongin. For a whole week. Just the two of them, in a private residence. It was a thank you, and also an apology. Of course, it would be pointless to deny what he had hoped the getaway to be for. He had touched Jongin often enough in the last month - He could feel it in the way they kissed, their simple pecks spiralling out of control, nibbling and panting and licking into each other’s mouth for minutes at a time as if they could never get enough. And they could never get enough, every time a kiss turned into Chanyeol hooking Jongin’s leg around his hips, Jongin’s body flushing with heat only to be ripped away when he finally remembered his senses.
Jongin was fond of him, that much he knew.
Jongin who had let Chanyeol’s hands trail up his thighs and slip into the waistband of his tight brief, who had slid down that wall and mouthed Chanyeol’s hard cock over his pants. He’d let Chanyeol push him against the wall, long fingers slipping into his waiting mouth when Chanyeol was jerking him off and they needed to be quiet. His breath was always so hot against Chanyeol’s neck, mouth pressing tiny sweet indulgent smiles against his skin.
Micronesia opened up beneath them before long, the bright turquoise body of water glittering in the sunshine.
“Where are we?” Jongin asked again, fidgeting but clearly fascinated with their destination.
He leaned over Jongin, intending to point out the island for the boy, but a small hitch of breath stopped him short. It could have just been the boy’s amazement in front of this stunning vista, but the sudden tension in his tightly wound body spoke otherwise. Chanyeol was suddenly all too aware of the casual curl of his hand around Jongin’s leg, his fingers snug between Jongin’s slightly parted thighs and his knuckles brushing the soft warm fabric of the boy’s well-worn old jeans. When his eyes flickered up, Jongin was staring out of the window with an intensity he knew only came when the boy was avoiding someone’s gaze. His bitten lip, pulled slightly inwards to show a hint of white teeth, gave him away. Chanyeol inhaled deeply, and when he spoke, he let his breath ghost over the delicate edge of Jongin’s ear.
“We’re nearly there. My family- we have a small vacation home on one of the islands. I used to go here on jungle exploration trips when I was small. See the tiny islet with the large stretch of white sand?”
If he weren’t pressed so closely against the boy’s body, he would have missed the tiny shudders that went through Jongin, but he didn’t. Jongin’s lips pressed primly together. Chanyeol’s grip around Jongin’s thigh tightened.
Jongin brushed his hand away when the plane began its final descent. His face was really pressed against the window then, eyes wide and amazed as he took in the scenery spreading out in front of them. Lush green jungles and pristine white sand stretching out to vibrant coral reefs and marine life underneath crystal clear turquoise blue water. The plane took them to the other side of the main island, the rumble of the engines shaking them in the final landing. Jongin didn’t protest nor pull away when Chanyeol held onto his hand and led them out of the plane.
They took a boat out to the small island. Jongin looked apprehensive at first, but all that melted away when they jetted out to the water, the sun and the salty scent of the ocean warming up their skin after months of miserable blistering cold winter in Seoul. Jongin started smiling then, a soft and brilliant smile that turned his eyes into full crescents as he pulled up the sleeves of his grey sweater, sticking out his arms and feeling the spray of refreshing cool water. Chanyeol ruffled his hair, and the boy didn’t even bother hitting him back. His smile glowed, and Chanyeol felt a small tug in his chest.
When they finally got to their little island, the sleeves of Jongin’s sweaters were dark with water, but the boy paid it no mind as he slid out of his shoes and jumped out of the boat, his feet immediately kicking sand and water like a child. Jongin was wiggling his toes into the white sand up the beach when Chanyeol finally got to him. He let out a loud yelp when Chanyeol tackled him from behind, shoving him into the sand. He went down in a flurry of mini sandstorm, but not before kicking a feet-full of sand into Chanyeol’s face on his way down. Chanyeol shrieked, blindly reaching out to hold Jongin’s twisting body down. He wouldn’t have had much success if Jongin’s body hadn’t been shaking with breathless laughter, but he still got an elbow to the chin for his effort. They collapsed on top of each other after a flaily wrestling match, both equally defeated.
“I hate you. And sand. Mostly you.”
Chanyeol looked down, and Jongin was indeed dusted in fine white sand from head to toe. He suspected he wasn’t any better, still. Jongin spat out sand from his mouth, and Chanyeol laughed, seconds before he got a handful of sand to the face.
Both of them spent their trek to the house coughing and spitting out sand, Jongin glaring daggers at him the whole time. His face only slackened into wide-eyed fascination when Chanyeol finally kicked opened the door to the only house on the island, perched not far away from the beach - a bungalow decked out in solid timber, rattan and wooden furniture, canvas curtains, and traditional thatched roof. The room glowed with the sunlight streaming in from large open windows. Chanyeol shuffled in first, placing his guitar case against the wall carefully before turning to Jongin. He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling unsure. Jongin had fallen silent on the doorstep, eyes darting around the open house.
“So,” Chanyeol cleared his throat as noisily as he could, “our little tent on a Robinson Crusoe island. There’s a bathroom in the back if you wanted to know.”
Jongin rolled his eyes, but quickly returned his attention to examining the place. He tentatively stepped in, the timber floor cool beneath his bare feet. A large sofa was in front, to the side a small but fully-equipped kitchen. The master bedroom was barely hidden behind the living room space, the one clearly visible king-sized bed taking up the largest space in the second half of the open house. Jongin flushed when he took in its prominence. There would be no privacy here, even if he kicked Chanyeol off the bed and made him sleep on the sofa.
Chanyeol’s eyes trailed after Jongin’s slowly moving figure, searching for signs of approval. He’d had to bribe Yura three months’ worth of favours for this arrangement and the keys to one of their family’s best private rental properties. Yet suddenly, he wasn’t so sure anymore, looking at the blank expression on Jongin’s face and remembering the last time he’d mixed his Jongin-life with his family.
“I’m sorry,” he was starting to say, but suddenly Jongin was in front of him, eyes soft and sincere as he leaned up, pressing a chaste kiss against Chanyeol’s lips.
He didn’t touch Jongin for the rest of the day. They went swimming, then Chanyeol went to fix them something to eat (he’d had the pantry stocked for a full week-long stay before they arrived), and Jongin just stretched out in the sun and slept. It felt good, just soaking in the sun and the water, not thinking about anything else for a while. Jongin was a quiet and calm presence beside him, gorgeous with the sunshine and water glistening on his bare skin.
It started in the morning of the second day, when he woke up in bed with a hard-on pressing flush against Jongin’s soft pert ass. His hips automatically hitched up in the haze of sleep, and Jongin’s little moan broke him out of his daze. Chanyeol took a long deep breath, relishing in the soft hazy pleasure for a few brief seconds before carefully pulling away from the warm body pressed up against him. Jongin was still deep in sleep, lips parted in rhythmic breathing when Chanyeol climbed off the bed. A dip in the ocean was just what he needed to clear his mind.
Chanyeol had already come back from his morning swim and was nearly done with their breakfast tray when Jongin finally shuffled into the kitchen, hands rubbing his still closed eyes. He had been too tired yesterday from the trip and the emotional roller-coaster, but Chanyeol was noticing it now, how Jongin’s shirt rode up when he raised his arms, and the sliver of smooth golden skin instantly caught his attention. He ruffled the boy’s messy hair when he shuffled over, smiling in indulgence at Jongin’s sleep-swollen face.
Jongin started to wake up after his second coffee, but his sleepy pout was still there. Chanyeol leaned down and kissed him, tasting the bitter hint of coffee in the soft plushness of Jongin’s lips. Jongin was sluggish and pliant in the morning, letting himself be pushed against the counter, his body opening up for Chanyeol’s touch. Chanyeol’s tongue flicked into Jongin’s mouth, thrusting into the hot wet cavern with the same rhythm as his hips. Jongin’s breathless moans were hot against his lips, his body splayed out on the counter, writhing up under Chanyeol’s body. Chanyeol pulled off the boy’s thin white t-shirt in a flash, revealing the endless stretch of smooth tanned skin, lithe muscles shifting and flexing under his touch. His thumbs brushed over Jongin’s pebbled nipples, and the boy’s body jerked under his fingers.
Chanyeol sucked in a breath when he pulled down Jongin’s shorts only to meet bare hot skin. Jongin had been waiting for this, he realized, hands running up the globes of the boy’s tight pert ass. He let a finger dip into Jongin’s hole, and his heart stuttered when he felt sticky wetness around his fingertip. When Chanyeol looked up, Jongin was staring down at him with half-lidded eyes and a beautiful flush up his neck.
“Did you… did you play with yourself?” Chanyeol’s voice came out steadier than he’d expected. Jongin nodded, biting down on his already swollen lip. “When?”
“This morning… after you left the bed.” Jongin answered with a finger in his mouth, and Chanyeol had to squeeze his eyes hard to stop the assault of mental images - Jongin splayed open on the bed, clumsy fingers tentatively sliding in and out of his twitching hole, sleep-warm and aching for more friction.
“How many fingers?”
Jongin flushed hotter, but he answered anyway. “Only two… but it wasn’t… it wasn’t as good as when you did it. It wasn’t enough.”
Chanyeol was sliding two fingers in now, Jongin’s tight hole already opened up nice and easy for him. “Like this? Or still not enough?” He wanted to know if Jongin was already starting to crave something bigger to scratch the itch inside of him. He started to pick up the pace, listening to Jongin’s stuttered breath when Jongin’s suddenly held on to his wrist, stopping his motion.
“Wait, hyung… please…” Jongin’s fingers brushed over the bulge in Chanyeol’s shorts, and Chanyeol’s mouth dried up, heat shooting through his stomach.
“Are you sure?” Chanyeol flicked his fingertips inside Jongin’s tight heat, and the boy’s hips jerked, cock bouncing on his stomach. Jongin nodded, eyes wet with needs, and it was all Chanyeol needed to pull the boy down the counter, kissing and pushing him out of the kitchen into the main room, maneuvering him onto the sofa bed, having the boy on his hands and knees.
The arch of Jongin’s naked back was beautiful, with his face pressed against the sofa and his arm shoved against his mouth, his hips raised up and held in place by Chanyeol’s hands. A quick rummage under the sofa produced condoms and lube, just where they should be. Chanyeol pulled the condom on with one hand, stroking over it with more lube before pressing his cock against the cleft of Jongin’s ass. He trailed it up and down, wetting the soft skin with lube, stopping at Jongin’s hole, teasing for a few beats before he slipped in with a slow, tight slide.
Chanyeol held his breath, holding himself rigid above Jongin’s tense body, heart beating furiously in his chest in response to the throbbing and helpless fluttering around his cock. Very slowly, he pulled out a little bit, then thrust back in. Jongin’s hips twitched, the boy letting out a tiny cry, and Chanyeol stilled again.
“No… please… move…”
Chanyeol smoothed a shaky hand from Jongin’s quivering back down to his thighs. He stared down at where his cock was buried deep in Jongin’s tight ass when he pulled back slightly only to snap his hips forwards, startling a choked cry from the boy beneath him. He started with slow, deep thrusts, but soon enough the slide became easier and the tension started to go out of Jongin’s body. Soon enough, his hips were slapping against Jongin’s pert ass in loud, obscene wet noises, the boy’s thighs shaking to hold himself up under the relentless pounding, his mouth panting hot against the fabric of the sofa.
Chanyeol leaned down, holding Jongin’s head up to kiss him, hot and wet and messy with teeth and tongue. Jongin’s body was so sweet in his arms; the boy’s eyes were glazed with lust, his hips twitching backwards to fuck himself on Chanyeol’s pistoning cock. His hands roamed all over the boy’s front, brushing over abs and belly button to reach Jongin’s swollen cock, stroking him in pace with his thrusts.
Jongin’s body jerked in his arms, his fingers clawing at Chanyeol, but his hips didn’t stop fucking back onto Chanyeol’s cock.
“Kris… How…” Jongin gasped, eyes fluttering shut at Chanyeol’s pull on his cock, his pleasure too much for him to control his body. And there was Kris, standing in the doorway with a bag at his feet, eyes lidded and dark with heat as he stared at the sight in front of him, his attention rapt on the easy slide of Chanyeol’s cock into Jongin’s ass.
“You’re early,” Chanyeol laughed into Jongin’s bare shoulders, his hips still snapping forwards, at a slower pace but not faltering at all. Breathing hot into Jongin’s ear, Chanyeol smiled, “Present for you, Jonginnie.” Chanyeol was pulling him up now, showing off his flushed naked body to Kris who was still frozen on the doorway. “You want Kris to just look, or do you want him here with you?”
Jongin’s cock couldn’t be harder in his grasp, his thighs shaking between Chanyeol’s legs. Chanyeol knew he wanted it; even Kris knew what their odd tension really was. When he’d posed the question, Kris had asked if Chanyeol wanted him to fuck it out of Jongin’s system, but Chanyeol wasn’t quite sure that was it at all. But he knew he wanted to give Jongin what the boy wanted. And Jongin wanted it, even if he’d never say it out loud, too shy to say what his body craved.
“H-here…” Jongin whimpered, eyes shut tight with shame, and Chanyeol kissed the edge of his jawline, sweet and reassuring. It was all Kris needed to step inside. He shrugged off his clothes in record time, pulling his cock out and stroking it to hardness as Chanyeol kept fucking into Jongin, his thrusts small and steady now, drawing desperate little moans from the boy.
“Open your mouth, Jonginnie,” Chanyeol instructed, pushing Jongin slightly forwards, and the boy obediently parted his red swollen lips, waiting. Kris sucked in a deep breath, looking down at the boy in wonder as he touched the head of his cock to Jongin’s mouth, smearing his pre-come over already well-used lips. Jongin took him in easily, and Chanyeol watched in fascination at Jongin’s reddened lips wrapped tight around another thick, hard cock.
He swayed between their bodies, rocking back to Chanyeol’s cock fucking up into him and taking Kris’ rhythmic thrusts down his throat. They had a rhythm, and Jongin was dazed with pleasure, his body pliant in their grasps. Kris didn’t know the boy’s limit as well as he did, and Jongin made a tiny choked noise when his cock pushed down just a little too much. He’d had practice since that drunken first time, but the only other cock he’d ever had in his mouth was Chanyeol’s, and Kris’ was longer than what he was used to. Chanyeol’s head spun with heat, and his thrusts picked up pace again, snapping up with violent slapping sounds. Jongin cried out, letting Kris’ cock slip out of his mouth as he fell forwards, letting Chanyeol pound him into completion.
And Chanyeol did, coming in shuddering thrusts into Jongin’s ass, the boy’s tightening walls milking the last of his come. When he finally pulled out, Jongin was a wreck, cock hot and swollen between his splayed legs. He repositioned the boy, pulling his leg up, and suddenly Kris was between Jongin’s thighs. Jongin was far gone when Kris pushed in, thrusting easily into his well-fucked hole.
Chanyeol reached down to stroke Jongin’s hot hard cock, watching waves of pleasure ripple through the boy’s body with every snap of Kris’ hips. Kris pulled Jongin’s leg up higher, opening him up, almost bending him in half. “Fucking dancers,” Kris breathed, awed and turned on by the boy’s flexibility. Chanyeol leaned over, staring at the in-out slide of Kris’ cock between Jongin’s buttocks, fingers trailing down to stroke over the stretched rim of Jongin’s hole. There was something oddly erotic about watching Jongin getting fucked on someone’s cock, weak and loose-limbed, after he’d been thoroughly used by Chanyeol. He had been afraid this would be a bit too much for the boy’s first time, but he had been taking them so well.
He stroked the boy into his release, Jongin’s thighs tensing between his whole body jerked forward, come splattering all over his stomach. Kris grunted above him, frantically pulling out and pulling the condom off, jerking himself off over Jongin’s heated thighs. Jongin’s thighs twitched under every hot spurts of come, and when Kris finally pulled away after slapping Jongin’s thighs with his softening cock, the boy’s legs fell back down and remained splayed open, too weak to move.
Their harsh breathing was the only sound in the room until Jongin shifted, blinking tired eyes up to look at Kris.
“How long are you staying?”
“A week.” Chanyeol answered for him, and Jongin’s body shuddered. His fingers brushed over the tender bottom of Jongin’s ass, red hot from the slaps of their hips. “Felt good?”
“Good…” Jongin mumbled, eyes slipping shut.
They had a whole week of sun and waters ahead of them, and a willing, hyper-sensitive body to play with.