“Taeyong, hey,” Jaehyun waves his hand in front of Taeyong’s face that’s staring at him blankly. Taeyong blinks and zones back into the conversation. What were they talking about again?
He’d been distracted. Distracted by the curve of Jaehyun’s smile, the lilt of his laughter, and the way the sun was inconveniently (or conveniently), dancing rainbows through his dark blonde hair. It was a little on the curly side today which made him look cuter than usual. Taeyong hadn’t slept well the night prior, and when he was tired he was even weaker than usual. Weaker for Jaehyun.
“Sorry,” Taeyong mumbles sheepishly, and Jaehyun’s eyes crinkle with a teasing smile that nearly has him floating off again.
It had been worse lately. More frequent. He’d always had a crush on his best friend, just a teensy, tiny one that mostly he could keep locked away in the back of his mind, insignificant. But the last year it had burst out and bothered him more and more until he wasn’t just lying in bed with a dreamy expression, thinking of Jaehyun, he was doing it right when he was there. A metre away.
Taeyong chokes, because it’s fucking happened again, and he’s too tired to compete with the sparkle in Jaehyun’s soft eyes and the way he looks at him and laughs so brightly.
“You need to rest,” Jaehyun says kindly, and Taeyong would protest and ask him to stay longer but these days he was even more conscious of every request, every touch, every look that crossed a line. Every moment shared felt heightened, guilty almost, like Jaehyun didn’t know what Taeyong was doing.
Not that he was doing anything, anything other than crushing fucking hard on his best friend in the world.
When they hugged goodbye Taeyong was the first to break it, if Jaehyun reached to grab his hand playfully, he was the first to bat it away. He was so hyper aware of his feelings, so worried he’d accidentally let them show and ruin the friendship forever. Because there was one thing he was certain of.
Jung Jaehyun did not feel the same way.
Due to a very misfortunate error Jaehyun had been born with heterosexual inclinations. All the best gays united (Ten, Johnny, Taeyong and a bottle of tequila), would agree it was a tragic fate.
Taeyong sprawls out on his bed, yawns loudly and ignores the way his heart squeezes when Jaehyun leans down and brushes a kiss on his forehead. There was absolutely no need to do such things and when he’d called him out for it once, Jaehyun had looked at him with puppy dog confusion and said, “Ten and Johnny always do?”
So Taeyong had only fallen further. He might be trying to keep his feelings at bay, at least a little, but he wasn’t so strong that he’d outright reject forehead kisses.
“Sorry,” Taeyong calls out half-heartedly the apology morphing into a yawn. Jaehyun turns in the doorway with a smile and goodbye wave.
When the door closes its with a soft click because Jaehyun is careful and gentle, not just with Taeyong but with everything. It’s one of the reasons he’s crushing, Taeyong supposes. When they were younger he was envious as Jaehyun grew bigger and broader, despite being the younger of the two. But with it he grew stronger and gentle, all at the same time. He picks Taeyong up like the lightest feather but when he puts him back down it’s as if he’s precious and breakable.
Taeyong groans aloud and rolls over onto his stomach, face pressing into the mattress. He falls asleep that way the daylight turning to night and wakes up, disoriented.
The linen smells like Jaehyun. The room does. And Taeyong doesn’t know if he loves it or hates it because Jaehyun has invaded every space in his mind and his heart and it’s as if there’s no escape.
No happy one anyway.
Because as he reminds himself every night before he goes to sleep. Half as a warning so his dreams don’t get carried away.
Jung Jaehyun is straight. They’re just friends. Best friends. That’s all it’ll ever be.
Taeyong turns onto his side and angles his head so he can look up and out the small crack left in the curtains. By a perfect chance moment a shooting star glistens through the darkness, illuminating his room briefly with a warm golden glow. He’d wish for Jaehyun but he tries to push the thought away as if it never crossed his mind, draws the curtains and closes his eyes, tries to go back to sleep.
When sleep comes despite his best intentions it comes in the form of a tall soft boy with kind eyes and the warmest dimpled smile. It comes with holding hands and laughing and smiling and it ends with a kiss. Subtle and sweet but enough that Taeyong awakes with a shriek sitting up in bed suddenly. Smacks his head loudly against the back wall. Bed hair ruffled and eyes wide disoriented in a room that’s clearly only occupied by himself. He pats the empty side of his mattress just to check a shirtless Jaehyun isn’t lurking, lies back down and pulls the sheets back up. Closes his eyes and chants don’t dream of him don’t dream of him don’t dream of him instead of counting sheep.
As usual, it doesn’t work.
Taeyong wakes at seven in the morning embarrassed and half hard in his boxers, refuses to take care of it with Jaehyun on the brain and takes a long cold shower arms stiffly held at his sides.
It’s Jaehyun again, hand clicking in his face, but this time Taeyong has an excuse. He’s drunk. Proper drunk. He hadn’t intended to but Taeyong was small in stature and the minute he took one drink too many it was too late. Impossible to turn back.
He stumbles and Jaehyun’s arm is there, circling around his waist to steady him.
“You’re drunk,” Jaehyun whispers with a laugh, his lips nearly brushing the nape of Taeyong’s neck. He shivers, blinks, tries to focus his eyes and look around the room but everything’s a blurred mess of moving bodies, twinkling lights. The music’s so loud he can feel it hitting either side of his head between his eardrums.
Some tasteless heterosexual is playing Ed Sheeran.
“A little drunk,” Taeyong lies unconvincingly, hyper aware of the fact that Jaehyun’s arm is still tightly around his middle. He relaxes, just a little, leans into him self-indulgently. Maybe being drunk wasn’t so bad, not if Jaehyun would take care of him like this.
“Let’s get some air,” Jaehyun chuckles, and before Taeyong can respond he’s bent down and swept him off his feet, bridal style. Taeyong’s face is already flushed with the alcohol but it goes a brighter shade of red as Jaehyun walks across the length of the lounge, laughing off the whistles, cheers and lewd comments that fly in their direction.
He tries to remind himself that Jaehyun doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he’s straight. But Taeyong is drunk, drunk enough to push thoughts of reality away. And who could blame him really, for snuggling just a little further into Jaehyun’s broad chest. So he lets out an inaudible sound of content and buries his head into Jaehyun, eyes closed tightly shut so he can imprint the moment in his brain forever.
“Are you gonna get down now?” Jaehyun looks at him eyebrow raised, Taeyong blinking back up at him sheepishly, eyes owlishly wide.
“Oh, sorry I-” the words spill out of his mouth in a tumble as he pushes away from Jaehyun's arms suddenly, crashing to the ground.
“Taeyong, shit are y-”
“Fine,” Taeyong chokes out, scrambling to his feet red-faced and refusing Jaehyun’s offered hand of help.
“Want me to carry you again,” Jaehyun grins and winks at him. Taeyong could swear half the time Jaehyun knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what his affect was on him.
But he tells himself it’s just drunk thoughts and Jaehyun is nothing more than a kind, thoughtful friend. The best of friends. Not something he wants to mess up. The thought is sobering.
“This music sucks,” Taeyong mutters as he accepts a drink from a guy that’s smiling a little too widely at him.
A couple to the left of them are making out aggressively Taeyong half wonders if they’re about to topple into the bush nearby.
Taeyong struggles through another half hour, watches half the girls (quarter of the guys) flirt with Jaehyun and Jaehyun, kind that he is, indulge them all likely unaware of their intentions.
He presses close to Jaehyun whenever a guy tries to approach him, knows he’s too drunk and as much as he wants to get lost in someone’s arms, that someone isn’t so much an anybody as a specific person. Jaehyun always takes care of him when they’re out and if Taeyong isn’t keen for attention, he slips into the role of faux boyfriend just a little too easily that it makes it so easy to imagine it’s real.
“He’s taken,” Jaehyun is saying, and Taeyong looks up eyes wide at yet another hulking dude that’s apparently shown an interest in him.
I mean yeah, everyone knew appearance didn’t mean shit in the bedroom, but thin, soft and pretty with pink hair and lip gloss didn’t help his not-a-twink agenda. An agenda that no one believed, except Jaehyun, bless, who clearly didn’t understand the term.
(“I don’t look like a fucking twink do I?”
“Definitely not,” Jaehyun responds with utter seriousness, stuffing his face with another slice of chocolate cake.
Taeyong chokes on his milkshake, “Thanks Jae.”
“Twink president,” Ten interjects.)
“They’re all out for you tonight,” Jaehyun looks across at him, reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You look too pretty.”
And Taeyong wants to grab him by the shirt collar and tell him to stop saying ridiculous things like that because it only makes it worse.
“I’m always pretty,” he mutters instead, deflecting the comment, and Jaehyun laughs and punches him lightly on the shoulder and the moment is broken. They’re just best bros complimenting one another, as bros do.
“You sure are,” Jaehyun says belatedly, so quietly under his breath Taeyong half believes he imagines it. He turns to look at him questioningly but Jaehyun is face first in a red cup that hides his expression. Taeyong drops it, the comment landing in the pit of his stomach uncomfortably. You sure are.
“Jaehyunnie, can we go?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Jaehyun stands up so fast he stumbles backward and nearly falls on his ass.
“I was waiting for you to be ready.”
Taeyong pouts, “You know I don’t like parties so much, or being at them too long.”
Jaehyun shrugs, “You seemed happy tonight.”
And well, yes perhaps his smile had taken a little while to fade after being carried across the party in Jaehyun’s arms, but that had nothing to do with the event.
“It was fun,” with you.
Definitely not with Ed and the live hetero sex show.
The uber stops at Jaehyun’s dorm first and he pauses before he unlocks the door.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
And for fuck’s sake, can he stop being so lovely and wonderful and clueless. Taeyong grits his teeth and says with difficulty “No, I’ll call you tomorrow.” And if Jaehyun’s face falls a little Taeyong convinces himself it’s a figment of a mind too far gone on vodka sodas.
Cheap, budget, disgusting vodka sodas at that.
“Good night,” and Jaehyun lingers, legs half out the door, until the uber driver clears his throat and then he’s practically falling out, stumbling toward his block.
Taeyong’s eyes blink open to Jaehyun’s fingers clicking an inch away from his face.
“What the fuck.”
He sits up slowly, groggy and disoriented, hair sticking up at all angles, eyes squinting at the light that’s streaming through the curtains that he definitely did not open. Jaehyun is sitting on the side of his bed, blonde hair wavy and messy, yellow hoodie on that makes him glow brighter than the actual sun, and god he feels extra cheesy in the morning.
“What’re you-” what are you doing attacking me here looking so beautiful so early in the morning?
“Johnny and I were going to the game today, but he bailed - gave me his ticket though.”
Taeyong’s eyebrows furrow, “What game?”
He rolls his eyes, turns to face away from Jaehyun,
He’d say there were downsides to having a straight best friend, but the phrase didn’t fit, not with Ten being even more into it than Jaehyun.
“See, that’s why I’m here. Convince you in person,” and Taeyong groans inwardly because he damn well knows he’s going to the game.
He sighs loudly in defeat and Jaehyun pumps a fist in the air and squeals, cutely. “I knew you’d come. Don’t worry I promise it’ll be fun, there’s basketball players for you to look at too.”
And Taeyong nods and smiles,
but I’ll be looking at you.
Taeyong gets ready while Jaehyun lies waiting, lying out on his bed, arms behind his head. Taeyong feels self-conscious and a little strange although it’s far from the first time he’s changed in front of him.
“Look away,” Taeyong pouts, and Jaehyun laughs in disbelief, “I’m on my phone, I’m not looking at you.” And Taeyong flushes and gets ready faster than he ever has, because usually he’s meticulous and slow. His fingers hover over the light pink gloss he was wearing on Saturday, the night Jaehyun had called him pretty.
Maybe it’s too much for a basketball game.
Taeyong’s fingers curl around the tube and he shoves it in the pocket of his black ripped jeans, just in case. He runs his fingers through his pink locks, settles on a black cap to speed up the process.
They walk down to the courts, it isn’t far from Taeyong’s dorm. The streets are busy when they get closer, all dressed out in colours for the respective teams they’re supporting. Taeyong’s in black, neither side, but in all honesty he can’t even remember what team’s Jaehyun’s favourite and therefore the team he should be cheering for.
He tries to recall the few basketball facts he knows from watching Jaehyun play or listening to Ten ramble so he can have some solid input into conversation.
“Who else is coming,” Taeyong asks, when they get outside the entrance, it’s packed and he’s squished right up to Jaehyun’s side. Jaehyun shoves a guy rudely that nearly squashes Taeyong.
Jaehyun tilts his head sideways, “Others will be here I guess. But it’s just us.”
It’s most definitely not a date situation. Because going to the basketball with your very straight friend was most definitely not that. In fact going out to a sports event was very much a heterosexual activity. But the part of Taeyong’s brain that is outside his control lets him relish in the fantasy just a moment. He wonders what it would be like if it were, walking into the arena holding hands, Jaehyun turning to give him a big kiss whenever their team scores. He might like basketball then.
Taeyong’s whipped quickly out of his fantasy when their friends Doyoung and Taeil come hurtling toward them. They greet each other and the two follow close by their sides as they enter inside. To Taeyong’s half embarrassed half shameful relief, Taeil has scored prime tickets, expensive ones, and the two were disappearing to an area the opposite side of the court. It’s four and then it’s back to two, back to them.
“Grab our seats, I’ll get snacks?” Jaehyun asks and Taeyong nods and makes his way up the stairs and along to their seats. He passes by people he knows, waves and smiles and hurries to their seats to avoid lengthy conversation. He spots Ten, who calls out - five rows above, “You on a date Taeyong?” to which he embarrassingly flushes and calls out “No,” about three times too loud. Ten winks and calls out something inappropriate, mindless of the many ears that can hear. Taeyong flips him the finger and sinks into his seat, pulling his cap low down on his ears.
Is it Jaehyun????
Yeah, not a date. Just Jaehyun
Taeyong turns around to face Ten who is smiling serenely in his direction. He wonders how obvious it was. How many people knew he was stupidly, ridiculously in love with his best friend.
Because as infatuated with Jung Jaehyun’s good looks and kind personality he’d never considered the fact that he might be, is 100% head over fucking heels, free-falling into open space, forget his first name kind. In love. Sure he’d love nothing more than for Jaehyun to whisk him away from this stupid game and bang him all night long. But then, then to cuddle him and kiss him softly and tell him that he l-
“Line was long as shit,” Jaehyun announces, Taeyong startling in his seat, tips of his ears burning red as if his thoughts are written clearly across his forehead. Jaehyun pushes a cup into the holder between them, one with two straws. It’s completely normal that they share a drink so fucking normal but for Taeyong, currently, everything is different.
“Want me to explain the game as it goes?” Jaehyun offers, and Taeyong shoots him a dirty look.
“Don’t be condescending, I know.”
“Sure,” Jaehyun giggles, smothering his laugh with a handful of popcorn.
Jaehyun chokes on his popcorn, laughs openly. “Don’t cry Taeyongie, you’re smarter at everything else. Lemme have this.” His voice is a grating high-pitch, cooing, and Taeyong half forgets he’s just discovered Jaehyun’s the potential unrequited love of his life. He’s so goddamn irritating.
He ignores him for two minutes longer (he has some dignity, god,) and relents when Jaehyun begins pulling on the corner of his sleeve in a way that no mortal could possibly have the heart to ignore.
“You are the smartest, you know it,” Jaehyun says lowly under his breath and Taeyong rolls his eyes but can’t help the corners of his lips turning upward slightly.
“Fine,” Taeyong mutters, “Who do we want to win again?”
And Jaehyun chokes back a are you fucking kidding, and graciously explains. Of which Taeyong takes in about two thirds, partially because what the fuck, he honestly doesn’t care. He’ll just cheer along for whoever Jaehyun wants. But he misses even that important detail because what the fuck, yellow is one hundred percent Jaehyun’s colour and he’s practically glowing. Last week it was green.
The game ends up being a lot funner than Taeyong anticipated, and for a few brief moments he actually loses it in the moment, getting up to his feet and cheering wildly along with the other fans in their area. It’s maybe a little fun. It’s a little fun seeing Jaehyun’s eyes light up with delight when they score points, a little fun seeing his cute pout when they don’t.
They meet up with Ten and some of the others briefly at the half time break and Jaehyun misses the fifteen innuendos Ten slings their way. Taeyong doesn’t, pinches him on the thigh hard when they part ways back to their seats.
It’s ten minutes into the second half that the godawful kiss cam makes the rounds. And of course, as expected, it lands right on them. Taeyong flushes and waves a hand away at the camera, shrinking back into his seat. His flush deepens to a bright red when Jaehyun chuckles and leans over to give him a smacking kiss on the cheek. He can actually make out Ten’s distinctive shrieks in the background.
It’s just a kiss on the cheek for fuck’s sake. Not something to lose his shit over.
But Jaehyun does it so easily, thumbs his cheek when the camera leaves their spot and laughs “Sorry, was that okay?”
Taeyong nods and downs three-quarters of their drink in the hopes that the brain freeze will stop the reddening of his cheeks.
I swear he’s gay for you. He’s so fucking heart eyes
He’s straight. Stop.
Okay, sorry. But honestly are you sure? I bet my best ass cheek he isn’t, you know which one ;)
Taeyong chokes when Jaehyun leans over to ask who is so important that he’s ignoring the game for.
The thought comes back, just for a moment, a flickering maybe.
“Hey, you listening?”
Taeyong blinks and comes to, Jaehyun flicking him gently on the forehead. It’s quiet in the library, it’s Friday for fuck’s sake, it’s Friday and Jaehyun’s actually sitting in there with him studying. Or pretending to. A miracle. He was typically one of this insufferable fuckers that could wing things or do an averagely good job in twenty-four hours. For Taeyong, he liked to be prepared, organised, he may be the smartest in the school but that was a direct result of also being the hardest working.
“You’re meant to be tutoring me,” Jaehyun pouts, and Taeyong again wonders why the hell he agreed to help him. Because a little sleepy and half a gin later (they’d snuck inside a water bottle), his brain is only unhelpfully supplying him with lowkey sexy teacher student scenarios. And hey, fucking in a library was never a kink he’s considered, but tod-
Taeyong coughs quietly, the image of Jaehyun pinning him against the bookshelves disintegrating immediately, fuck.
“Let me look,” Taeyong sighs loudly, exaggerated, but they both know he loves helping people. So much so that Jaehyun has to make him hit pause sometimes so people don’t take advantage of his willingness to assist.
Taeyong scans Jaehyun’s essay and makes a few helpful suggestions, but not enough to entirely crush the man’s ego. Jaehyun accepts the changes gratefully.
They’ve barely done ten minutes more and Jaehyun is now the one head in his arms. Resting on the wooden desk that has one infuriatingly short leg causing their laptops and stationery to constantly slide to one side. Taeyong flicks him on the forehead.
“M’ sleepy,” Jaehyun whines, looks up and bats his eyelashes at Taeyong in an attempt to be cute. It works. Taeyong hates that it does. His big sleeping baby hulk of a friend that has Taeyong wrapped around his finger and doesn’t even know it. Taeyong groans and begins packing up because it’s obvious they are not getting shit done at all.
“Hungry,” Jaehyun mutters, as they make their way out the library.
Taeyong nods in agreement and despite being broke students without a lot of pantry options at least they’re both good cooks. (Even if Jaehyun complains that Taeyong takes far too long on presentation when they’re just fucking making noodles for themselves, not Masterchef).
Two bowls of noodles later, no more work done and they’re both tucked up in Taeyong’s bed a movie playing.
It’s most distracting and difficult at these particular moments, when Jaehyun’s snuggled down in the bed right beside him, half a metre away. He’s only human.
The film’s one of his favourites but Taeyong’s tired and Jaehyun is making sleepy sounds that probably wouldn’t sound cute to the average outsider but to Taeyong, well. Everything about his best friend is another strike to his chest.
He can visualise Ten’s grinning face if he could see the scene. The pining gay and the oblivious het best friend, how cliche.
“Need to get laid,” Taeyong mutters aloud, more to himself than Jaehyun, whose lightly snoring. His left eye opens at the comment and he looks up at Taeyong questioningly,
Sex isn’t usually something they talk about a lot. Taeyong didn’t care to hear about Jaehyun’s vaginal adventures and he figured Jaehyun didn’t wanna hear about that time he vomited on a guy’s dick that didn’t goddamn trim his pubes.
Ten had filled Jaehyun in anyhow.
“Are you getting horny to Howl’s Moving Castle,” Jaehyun teases and Taeyong flushes and scoots slightly away from him in the bed.
“The fuck, no.”
It’s silent for a good fifteen minutes and Taeyong turns up the TV volume because he can honestly hear his heart beating so loudly he’s sure it’s drowning out the noise.
“How many guys have you,” Jaehyun falters, “fu- slept with, right here?” He looks up at Taeyong with a strange expression.
“Chill I wash my sheets,” Taeyong rolls his eyes and lets the comment slide, doesn’t dwell on it.
“But how many?” Jaehyun presses, and again, not a topic they’ve covered, despite many arguably more personal. Taeyong wonders if Jaehyun had more gin at the Library than he realised.
“Dunno,” he says truthfully and Jaehyun laughs, “I do see you get a lot of guys I guess.”
Taeyong shifts uncomfortably and turns to face him.
“What about you? How many girls?”
Jaehyun turns on his side, props his head up one hand on his cheek, “One.”
Taeyong maintains his composure but it’s a completely unexpected answer.
Rose. Jaehyun’s high school girlfriend. It hadn’t lasted long and Taeyong was more upset than Jaehyun when it ended. Despite it being the beginning of his long-suffering crush on Jaehyun he liked Rose, loved her, and in the end Rose appeared to enjoy spending more time with him than her boyfriend.
Rose and Taeyong were still good friends. Something Jaehyun was always a little bitter about.
Jaehyun nods sheepishly and averts his gaze.
“That’s cool,” Taeyong says quietly.
“So in fact I need to get laid, not you.” Jaehyun says after a long silence, and Taeyong breaks out into laughter.
“You going out Saturday?”
“Maybe then Jae,” and Taeyong smiles and turns to face away from him, pulls the blankets around him tighter.
“Maybe,” Jaehyun whispers, when Taeyong is already halfway to dreamland.
“Hey, Taeyong, dude.”
Taeyong zones back into the conversation, Ten waving his phone in his face. “It’s your boy.”
“Jaehyun duh. ”
Taeyong swipes the phone quickly and shoots him a dirty look. There’s a series of text messages in short intervals that look as though they’ve been typed by drunk unsteady fingers.
Can you come
Can you com get me
Taeyong feels a rushed panic fill his chest and leaves the lounge to the bathroom, locking the door shut behind him. He calls Jaehyun, who answers drunk, apologetic, manages to blurt out an address. Taeyong takes Johnny’s car, half asking as he’s already out the door.
He speeds. He never speeds, but Jaehyun sounded like he wanted to come now, and even though it was obvious nothing was life-threateningly wrong, it was Jaehyun. His Jaehyun. He’d sounded so stressed on the phone.
Taeyong pulls up at the driveway of a house he doesn’t know and Jaehyun’s standing there, hands in his pockets, at the end of the drive. He looks wasted. He looks upset. There’s a big red stain on his white shirt. Taeyong gets out of the car quickly and runs up to him, he’s a metre away when someone calls out.
“His boyfriend came to get him.”
He shakes his head and pulls the fingers at the invisible voice and puts his arms immediately around Jaehyun, whose head drops onto Taeyong’s smaller shoulders.
He’s used to people making calls about the two of them. And most aren’t like Ten, playful and fun. Some are nasty, and the voice that called out tonight is from the latter category. Probably some frat douche bro, the kind that got off to lesbian porn in their dirty dorm and called out homophobic slurs not an hour later and didn’t understand the irony. Assholes.
Some sweaty dude definitely of the aforementioned category saunters down the drive and stops Taeyong, after he’s opened the passenger door and Jaehyun practically falls in. “Does Jaehyun take it up the ass too, or he just do you.” Jaehyun doesn’t even respond to the taunt which is unlike him and Taeyong ignores it and walks around to his own door.
“Why didn’t you tell us, Jae,” someone else calls out from the garden and Jaehyun pulls his hood lower down over his eyes and closes his eyes.
Taeyong’s heart’s beating wildly because as much as he’d love to cuss out frat douche bros they’re not worth wasting energy on because 1. They probably wouldn’t even understand his insults, and 2. They’re about double his size and Jaehyun doesn’t look in any condition to back him up.
Taeyong grits his teeth, starts up the engine and backs up the drive.
“Can we go to yours,” Jaehyun mumbles, curled up on the seat and firmly pressed to the door, face away from Taeyong’s.
“Course,” Taeyong responds quickly, not pressing him with any further questions. Not yet. He reaches out and gives Jaehyun’s arm a squeeze and feels his muscles stiffen under his touch. Taeyong pulls away and continues driving, heart pounding erratically. What the fuck is going on.
They pass Jaehyun’s street and he sits up suddenly, demands Taeyong stop the car. “I’m sorry Taeyong, sorry, sorry sorry sorry, he repeats like a mantra and gets out of the car. Taeyong turns off the engine in the middle of the street, gets out.
“What’s going on Jae?”
Jaehyun turns to face him and he looks so upset and confused and Taeyong just wants to hold him.
Jaehyun looks at him, mumbles a half-hearted excuse, and turns to walk away. Taeyong follows him, at a distance, waits to watch he gets inside safely. Turns back to Johnny’s car with a sick feeling in his stomach.
Because what the fuck happened at the party.
It’s not long before he finds out. Gets back to his dorm room to both Ten and Johnny sitting on his bed silently, ominous, as if they’re waiting for his arrival.
“Taeyong,” Ten starts, and his face is twisted with an expression Taeyong can’t decipher. He starts to feel even more nervous.
“Did you see?” Johnny says cryptically.
Taeyong shakes his head and drops his coat, neither of them say a word. It takes a minute but then Ten is reluctantly pulling out his phone, bringing up a snapchat story of the party Jaehyun was at.
Taeyong feels sick.
He can immediately make out Jaehyun in the video, wide-eyed and tipsy, giggly, sitting on the couch one pretty girl on one side, one of the frat douche bros on another. It’s difficult to make out what exactly is being said because the music is so loud. The clip ends with the person behind the camera saying Fuck, Marry, Kill.
The next video is zoomed up, closer on Jaehyun and the guy behind the camera says, Yiseul, Ara, pauses and then very distinctly says Lee Taeyong. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Taeyong’s entire stomach drops out of his body.
Jaehyun doesn’t miss a beat and says Yiseul, Taeyong, Ara.
There’s silence and it rolls onto the next clip.
“The order’s fuck, marry, kill, unidentified douchebro says off camera and as he says it a look passes Jaehyun’s eyes that is unmistakable terror. “So you’d kill Ara,” douchebro says sarcastically, the girl on the sofa next to Jaehyung turning to him wide-eyed, “Marry Taeyong.”
“Uh,” Jaehyun laughs and stands up unsteadily, knocking over a drink on the coffee table. “I got confused.”
“Sure look confused,” the guy off camera continues and Taeyong wishes he could reach through the screen and punch the idiot in the face. His heartbeat feels though it’s directly between his eardrums at piercing volume. He belatedly realises he’s squeezing Ten’s forearm so tightly there’s a red chinese burn like mark ringing around it.
“Fuck off,” Jaehyun mutters and exits the video frame.
“Is that all,” Taeyong asks quietly when Ten exits out of the person’s story, a lump in the pit of his stomach growing heavier.
Ten and Johnny share a glance and shake their heads.
It’s another story, Instagram, and it’s Jaehyun again, he looks twice as drunk as the last time. The red stain’s now adorning his shirt. Taeyong feels sick. Someone asks, “So you’d marry Lee Taeyong,” and Jaehyun flips them the finger and says “So what.” Another idiot laughs and mumbles the most unoriginal homophobic slur Taeyong’s ever heard in his life. “You marry your best friend,” Jaehyun is saying, “I dunno any of those two other girls what’s the big deal.”
“Would you fuck him,” someone asks next and Taeyong feels bile rising in his throat. Jaehyun looks like a deer in the headlights, pales and then quickly recovers. His reaction is unmissable to anyone watching the video, least of all Taeyong who knows every flicker of emotion his face shows. “Don’t talk about him like that,” Jaehyun says, angrily, pushes away the guy and walks out of view. Taeyong presumes that’s when he called.
Ten puts down the phone and Taeyong releases his grip, slightly.
“He say anything in the car?”
Taeyong shakes his head.
“Is he okay?”
Taeyong shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
It could’ve been drunk shit talk, no big deal, nothing. But everyone knows a heterosexual guy drunk off his ass playing fuck, marry, kill doesn’t kill a girl, a pretty one at that, for his best guy friend.
Ten ditches Johnny and snuggles Taeyong to sleep (even though he falls asleep first, and Taeyong lets one or two tears escape into his shoulder).
“Taeyongie, wake up,”
Taeyong wakes up to a plate of breakfast shoved under his nose, Ten and Johnny standing awkwardly at the side of his bed.
“Thanks,” he mutters awkwardly, because a plate of eggs is an odd consolation to a half weird confession that your best straight friend that you’ve been in assumed unrequited love with might be a little gay for you. Maybe.
Taeyong eats, both Ten and Johnny standing and staring him down as if he’s their own personal fucking patient.
Taeyong checks his phone, nothing. Well, nothing from the person he’s waiting to hear from. Jaehyun must know he would’ve seen it now. And the thought makes him feel sick, because Jaehyun must be thinking everyone has seen it, and if Taeyong’s right. If they all are, Jaehyun’s just half outed himself drunk on a social media story in front a bunch of homophobic assholes.
God, he tried to tell Jaehyun which of his sports dudes were shitty hets (most of them), but he often had bad judgment as he thought too well of people.
“You gonna call him?” Ten says quietly, none of the usual teasing in his tone when Jaehyun’s the topic of conversation.
“Think I should?”
Johnny shakes his head, “You should go over. Whatever it was, is, he probably needs someone right now. Probably needs you.”
So Taeyong gets ready with shaky hands and a too-fast heartbeat, because no matter what. No matter. Jaehyun is still his best friend. He has to be there.
He stands outside Jaehyun’s dorm for a good fifteen minutes before he has the courage to knock. It’s a minute before someone comes to the door, unlocks it and opens it just a fraction.
“Jaehyunnie, it’s me.”
Jaehyun looks out cautiously and opens the door wider, steps aside. He stands by the door after its closed looking out of place and uncomfortable. Taeyong’s fingers twist in the fabric of his jean pockets for something to hold onto. Jaehyun stares at the floor.
“You okay,” Taeyong says softly, grabs him by the wrist and drags him to the couch.
Jaehyun flushes, “M’ fucking embarrassed, you saw I guess.”
Taeyong winces and nods.
Jaehyun sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, eyes still firmly fixed on the carpet. Taeyong swallows roughly and decides to give him an out,
“Makes sense Jae, marry your best friend, duh, no homo.” The words feel bitter and unpleasant in his mouth and Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably on the couch.
“Don’t say that. I’m sorry for those assholes.”
And now isn’t the best time to say I told you they were dicks, but Taeyong raises a brow and Jaehyun catches it and lets out a small smile all the same. Message sent.
“We’re good okay, but are you okay?”
Jaehyun nods, “I got like three hundred new instagram followers.” Taeyong punches him on the shoulder, “Ass.”
“All of our photos together are getting comments.”
Jaehyun coughs awkwardly and mutters, “Like, cute couple.”
He looks so shy and ridiculously uncomfortably that Taeyong can’t help but burst out with laughter. “That’s not really new,” he muses, the comments joining the ones already there posted every time by Ten and Johnny. Insufferable confident gays.
Jaehyun pouts, “Don’t laugh.”
Taeyong sighs, “It’s okay, just drunk shit talk, it’s fine. I know you’re a gross het, sad as that is for the world.” He feels uncomfortable as he says it, but what if he’s wrong, reading it wrong. If he jumps to the opposite conclusion it might just make it even more awkward between them. He doesn’t want to lose his best friend.
Jaehyun is silent, too silent, begins jiggling his knee as he’s prone to when nervous.
“What if I wasn’t.”
It’s quiet, barely audible, and Taeyong blinks in rapid succession as if it’s his vision that’s gone blurry not his hearing. Because did he just.
Jaehyun squirms uncomfortably but goddamnit they’re best friends and Taeyong isn’t going to assume anything anymore.
“Be straight with me,” he continues, before biting back a laugh at his poor choice of words. Jaehyun’s cheeks twitch with a laugh.
“I might be, y’know,” Jaehyun gestures vaguely at Taeyong. Taeyong holds back a smile and raises an eyebrow, “Might be what?” Okay maybe it’s a little mean but his quick realisation that this is a full-blown gay crisis is mildly amusing. Just in this brief moment anyhow.
“Y’know,” Jaehyun repeats stubbornly, irritated, gestures again across at Taeyong.
Taeyong’s eyes widen, “A bottom, truly?”
Jaehyun looks up in wide eyed confusion, “A what - no, I don’t know, what the fuck.” Taeyong bursts out laughing and shuffles closer, grabs his hand.
“You’re gay, maybe bisexual, not hetero, not straight, is that what you mean huh?”
Words he never thought would be coming out of his mouth in the direction of Jaehyun.
Jaehyun gulps like a fish, “Yeah, I guess.”
Taeyong nods and Jaehyun nods and there is a period of mildly uncomfortable silence between them. Jaehyun begins tapping his foot again on the floor.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I am gay if you didn’t remember. So are most of our friends.”
“I didn’t really know, I wasn’t sure if it was just you or-” he trails off as if he’s just realised the implication of his words and Taeyong’s heart spills out of his chest and lands on the floor with a thud. If it was just you or-
“If it was just me?” he blurts out, because this time no, he cannot, will not give him a free pass.
Jaehyun is red in the face.
“If it was just you or guys in general.”
Taeyong blinks, “If what was just me?”
Jaehyun mumbles out an incomprehensible sentence.
“Fine Taeyong. If I was just into you, like, a weird anomaly, or if it was really men in general.”
Taeyong doesn’t speak, can’t. Because is Jaehyun confessing to be having not only a gay crisis, but one specifically about him. Good lord.
Jaehyun clears his throat, “But I knew you weren’t into me, like that. Obviously. I’m your token het dude, best friend. You’ve told me multiple times it’s good I’m not gay so we couldn’t ever mistakenly mess it up. I get it, I do. I didn’t mean to fall in-”
Jaehyung pauses, stands up suddenly and turns to walk away red-faced. Taeyong sits in the couch, still frozen in shock, because Jaehyun’s gay crisis hours have just upped to a full-blown love confession. Even he himself hadn’t thought he loved Jaehyun until that annoyingly timed epiphany at the basketball last Thursday.
Holy fucking shit.
“Jaehyun,” Taeyong calls out belatedly, the bathroom door slamming and locking. As if the distance of a door could hide what Jaehyun had just said, as if not being seen is like not being heard.
“Idiot, let me in.”
It takes three minutes of coaxing and Jaehyun finally opens the door, face a strange purple with an expression Taeyong hasn’t ever seen in his lifetime. And he thought he knew them all.
“Fuck I’m sorry I-”
Taeyong grabs him by the shirt, “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”
“I will shit, I’m sorry I-”
“Jaehyun,” Taeyong interrupts irritably, and he finally falls silent. God he’s never heard him talk so much in the short space of fifteen or so minutes. Word vomit didn’t suit him well.
“I’m gay as fuck for you too,” Taeyong says eloquently. “I’m, I think, I think I’m fucking in love with you. For real.”
The silence is deafening and Jaehyun’s expression soft and slow, confused to outright shocked.
“Yeah,” Taeyong sighs, runs his fingers through his hair, “So what now?”
Jaehyun seems to get his shit together, complexion returning to normal and now he’s looking at Taeyong, looking at Taeyong, expression so fucking soft and endeared Taeyong thinks his heart may physically explode in his chest. There’s no room left. It’s so big and gay and soft for his stupid, lovely, ridiculous, kind, idiotic, sweetheart of a best friend.
“Now,” Taeyong says with a smirk, also slightly recovered. As recovered as someone in suffering silent unrequited love can be when a mutual confession is launched upon them. “Now, I think, you pick me up and kiss me,” he stares at Jaehyun, evenly. A challenge.
Jaehyun lets out the softest little “Oh,” which again threatens Taeyong’s heart size to chest ratio.
Taeyong lets out a breath and Jaehyun steps forward, picks him up bridal style so fucking easily that all soft, romantic thoughts fly out the bathroom window. Because oh that’s right, Jaehyun is fucking hot. And strong.
“You’re so light,” Jaehyun laughs, and his face lights up a golden shade that Taeyong wants to imprint on his memory forever.
He pinches Jaehyun’s bicep in retaliation.
“I don’t wanna kiss you in the bathroom,” Jaehyun frowns, pushing open the door and walking out.
“So, you’re a romantic,” Taeyong teases, comfortably settled in his arms. Surely this is another dream of his that will come crashing down with sunrise.
“Only for you, I think,” Jaehyun flushes and walks into the middle of the lounge.
“I’m waiting,” Taeyong rolls his eyes and Jaehyun shakes his head and walks to the sliding doors, out onto the miniature balcony.
“People might see.” Because yes, they’re in student goddamn apartments so crammed together that each balcony backs onto another, not to mention the garden below that half the population has their lunch in. It’s a sunny day and it’s packed to the brim.
Jaehyun ignores the observation.
“A romantic exhibitionist, my hero,” Taeyong teases with a faux high-pitched tone and Jaehyun slaps his ass. Which is two parts jokey and one part, a little, hot.
It’s cold outside and the breath coming out of Jaehyun’s mouth is spiraling out like little puffs of smoke. His cheeks are red, half from their situation, half the cold wind. He looks gorgeous, and in Taeyong’s not so humble opinion he’s about to be kissed by the prettiest man alive.
(But Jaehyun thinks the same).
It’s gentle, the way Jaehyun bends down and his eyelids flutter shut. Taeyong follows suit, first watching the way Jaehyun’s pretty lashes rest on his cheek, the way his lips begin to purse.
Their first kiss is soft, sweet, a brush of lips. Jaehyun leans down and kisses Taeyong a second time, this time more insistent, more pressure. Taeyong squirms in his grip and lifts his face eagerly, because god this is far better than fleeting midnight fantasies.
“My arms hurt,” Jaehyun says abruptly, breaking the third kiss.
“What the fuck,” Taeyong mutters, as he’s let down to the ground.
“Sorry babe,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong’s heart physically stops in his chest.
“Did you just call me babe?”
Jaehyun reddens even further, “So what.”
“Are you like, my boyfriend now?” Taeyong teases, grabs Jaehyun’s hand and pulls him back into the warmth of the lounge.
What he doesn’t expect is for Jaehyun to fall into the seat next to him, look at him shyly and say “Do you want me?”
As if he hasn’t fallen hard enough for the man already.
“Yes, stop being so cute, ugh, my heart literally hurts.”
Jaehyun grins, “I can do that. We done with soft shit now?”
Taeyong gets whiplash from the abrupt change in tone, “Ass.”
“Ass, hmm,” Jaehyun muses, eyes trailing from Taeyong’s face to his rear.
And god, shit fuck, he hadn’t come over here ready for a love confession, let alone living out his nastiest dreams (daydreams too, let’s be honest).
“I don’t know gay shit,” Jaehyun says matter-of-factly, “But I kinda always wanted to eat your ass.”
Taeyong chokes, incredulous, “You kinda always wanted to eat my ass but you didn’t think you were gay?”
Jaehyun has the decency to blush and then the gall to say, “It’s cool, we can skip the friends part, the getting to know you part, I already know you.”
The door bursts open, who the hell left it unlocked, Ten and Johnny falling through the doorway.
“Jaehyunnie, you okay.”
Taeyong looks at them deadpan, “Jaehyun wants to eat my ass.”
Ten screams and Johnny drops his phone on the ground with a clatter, the screen cracking.
Jaehyun looks mortified.
It takes awhile, but eventually when their friends have had a satisfactory explanation, shouted their loud congrats (and Johnny may have shed one (1) single tear), they leave, and it’s just the two of them again.
All jokes aside they don’t jump immediately into ass eating (for which Taeyong is half grateful half sad). But the better part of him knows Jaehyun must be going through a whole fuckload of emotions and maybe it’s better if they just chill.
So they do, it’s like any other day they hang out and watch movies, order takeout. Except it’s punctuated with shared glances, charged tension, cuddling that’s a lot less restrictive (and they make out a bunch).
Ten and Johnny invite them out to the local gay bar, in what Ten words to make Jaehyun’s debut. And he’s been there, plenty of times, but never walked in holding Taeyong’s hand.
They decide to go because fuck it, everyone is still talking about what went down at the party, they may as well simultaneously fuel and crush the rumours. Why not top it off with a snapchat story of them making out at Cherrybomb (Taeyong knows both their friends will oblige).
Taeyong feels stupidly nervous when he gets ready. His brain hasn’t yet caught up with his heart and all the events of the day. He leaves his hair a little messy, goes for the light pink gloss, dark ripped jeans and a loose white shirt that hangs off his thin frame. It’s a little see through. He finishes off with a velvet black choker with a tiny silver bell that Ten bought him for his last birthday (along with other various sex toys that are questionably close to the category of pet play ). He wants to take Jaehyun’s breath away.
When he emerges from the bathroom after Jaehyun’s insistent knocking, it appears to have worked. Jaehyun’s eyes are wide and the flush that immediately illuminates his neck has Taeyong smirking and basking in his own success.
“You look, amazing,” Jaehyun says, and he’s not so bad either. Tight jeans and a light blue shirt that’s also beautifully tight, Taeyong leans forward and undoes the top two buttons.
“What,” Jaehyun chokes, looking down at his exposed chest.
“For the gays,” Taeyong winks, and leans in to kiss it.
Jaehyun smiles, softly, and again Taeyong is whisked away from fuck he’s sexy to god I love you, and he’s honestly going to get whiplash being in this position daily.
When they get to the club Ten and Johnny are already two shots in and Taeyong can feel all the eyes on them as they walk in, Jaehyun’s arm protectively around his shoulder. Jaehyun even pulls him in to kiss him, long and unnecessarily at the bar, just for everyone to see. Gay debut indeed.
Taeyong smirks at his fellow jealous twinks knowingly and orders them both a drink. Jaehyun’s quiet at first, looking around the room as if he’s seeing it all in a new light, a little nervous even in conversation with their friends.
Taeyong’s content not to talk too much, just sit in their booth pressed up against Jaehyun and bask in his presence. The energy between them is different now and all the pent up guilt of crushing (being in love) with his best friend is gone. The weight is lifted. Ten and Johnny do most of the talking and eventually abandon them both to the dance floor, to both Jaehyun and Taeyong’s amusement.
They aren’t shy.
Two songs in and it looks like Ten should take his performance to the bedroom.
Three songs later and they do leave, rushed apologies to Taeyong and Jaehyun as they half sprint their way to a taxi, Johnny’s shirt already half undone.
Jaehyun laughs and lets go of Taeyong’s hand in favour of winding it around his neck, Taeyong drops his head down on his shoulder.
“I love you,” Jaehyun whispers, into the top of his hair and Taeyong closes his eyes. They’re in the middle of the fucking club, bass pumping at a level to blast his eardrums, people half fucking to the left of them and yet Jaehyun, Jaehyun is still as soft as ever.
Taeyong turns his face upward to face him,
“Could get used to hearing that,” he smiles and purses his lips. Jaehyun obligingly leans down to kiss him.
“Do you wanna dance?” Jaehyun offers, but Taeyong can see he isn’t really in the mood.
“Let’s go home.”
“Yours or mine?” Jaehyun responds quickly, so naturally it makes his heart squeeze for the seventy-fifth time that day.
Taeyong falls asleep in the cab, only waking briefly when Jaehyun’s carrying him inside.
Taeyong blinks slowly and the blurred room comes into focus. It must be early because it’s barely light out. He blinks again, the previous day’s events finally catching up with him.
And Jaehyun is right there, beside him, legs tangled in Taeyong’s, and for the first time in months he didn’t dream about him. Because you’re right here.
Taeyong shifts, eyes widening as his thigh brushes against Jaehyun’s crotch, something unmistakably hard pressing into his leg. Jaehyun doesn’t acknowledge him but looks at him cool and measured, to gauge his reaction. Taeyong on the other hand flushes immediately, because holy shit fuck, Jaehyun is hard in his bed. Half naked. His boyfriend.
And boyfriends they do this everyday, sure but-
Jaehyun’s still watching him as he presses forward, a little closer, and it’s undeniable that it’s intentional. God bless his boyfriend is a morning sex man.
“Can I kiss you,” Jaehyun asks, brow furrowed seriously, thumb brushing along Taeyong’s chin, other fingers holding it firmly. He looks confident, sure, and definitely not like someone that’s had a full blown gay crisis just 24 hours earlier. Damn Jaehyun and his bounce back capability. Damn Jaehyun.
Taeyong kisses him in response, softly at first but it doesn’t last long. Jaehyun’s fingers creep under his shirt, dance along his skin lightly, teasing. Taeyong shivers and presses closer, kisses him harder.
“Off?” Jaehyun questions softly, and Taeyong nods and smothers the end of the word with another kiss, fingers reaching down to unbutton his shirt. Jaehyun’s hand covers them. “Let me,” Taeyong nods yes yes yes, just get it off, but Jaehyun is slow, calculated, undoes every button without rush. Gently pushes Taeyong’s shoulder until he’s lying on his back and he crawls over so Taeyong’s laid out underneath.
Taeyong forgets how to breathe when Jaehyun sits back on his knees, between his legs, unbuttons his own shirt, eyes curiously watching Taeyong’s expression.
He’s seen him shirtless, thousands of times (thousands more in fantasy). But he’s never seen him shirtless in the morning light, in his bedroom, in his bed, getting undressed just for him.
Jaehyun slips his shirt off on the floor and Taeyong reaches out to grab him by the shoulders, bring him crashing back down.
Jaehyun’s body engulfs his own broad chest and strong arms caging Taeyong in. Taeyong lets out a small sigh and Jaehyun kisses him. Kisses the life out of him. Chest to chest, fingers threading in Taeyong’s hair, Taeyong’s own tracing down the muscles on his back. It’s urgent and needy and wet and god, Jaehyun lets out a moan when Taeyong bucks his hips up toward him.
“God Taeyong, fuck, you’re so-”
“I’m so what,” Taeyong asks, breathless, fingers sliding into the back of Jaehyun’s boxers to squeeze around his ass. “Your ass is so fucking nice Jae. Always wanted to touch it.” Jaehyun pulls back with a laugh.
“Look at it much?” he tilts his head, cocky, dips back forward to kiss down Taeyong’s neck. Taeyong whines and turns his head to expose the flesh further. “Always.”
Jaehyun kisses down his torso, soft and deliberate, Taeyong’s body shivering with each press of his lips. “So pretty,” he mutters, and Taeyong’s skin turns pink with the praise.
“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” Jaehyun admits, and Taeyong keens when his nose brushes against his length, hard and straining against his thin boxers. Jaehyun reaches closer and nuzzles his cock and Taeyong whines from frustration until Jaehyun finally slips his fingers beneath the material.
“Can I take these off?”
And god he’s so sweet, “Fucking hurry,” Taeyong responds, and Jaehyun pulls them down fast, Taeyong gasping as his cock hits back against his lean stomach, muscles taut and tense.
“Even he’s pretty,” Jaehyun remarks and Taeyong curses him out, because cocks aren’t fucking pretty and you’re not supposed to laugh when you’re horny. It fucking hurts.
“I’ve never,” Jaehyun begins, thumb tracing the length of Taeyong’s cock.
“Sucked cock, you’ll be my first.”
“An honour,” Taeyong blurts out, hands coming to rest behind his head. His eyes squeeze shut as Jaehyun’s fingers wrap around his cock and squeeze it, gently.
Taeyong points aggressively, at his bedside table, “Lube’ll help.”
There’s three different flavours and Jaehyun picks cherry, Taeyong storing the information away for future use.
Jaehyun slides it onto Taeyong’s cock without warning, the substance cool on his over sensitive cock and Taeyong hisses.
“Ugh, it’s hot when you call me babe.”
“You’re talkative aren’t you.”
“Shut me up then.”
Jaehyun leans down and takes Taeyong’s cock easily in his mouth, lips pressing hard along the length as if he’s done it a thousand times before. And if to shut up was his intention, the reaction is quite the opposite, Taeyong’s soft ohs becoming loud moans, that only make Jaehyun more enthusiastic, more sloppy, more messy, more wet.
Taeyong may be a perfectionist, ordered, in many other ways, but not here.
It’s not long before Taeyong’s fingers are twisting insistently in Jaehyun’s hair, urging him up because fuck he’s going too hard how can Taeyong handle it.
Jaehyun’s eyes are blown wide when he pulls off Taeyong’s cock, moves up the bed quickly and kisses him hard, legs either side of Taeyong’s, cock pressing up hard against his own.
“Fuck, yes - please,” and Taeyong pulls Jaehyun until he’s sitting on the side of the bed, kneels on the floor between his legs. Jaehyun flushes at first when he pulls down his boxers but loses any sense of inhibition quickly when Taeyong’s lips press the tip, make their way down his length.
Jaehyun’s fingers curl into the side of the mattress, head thrown back as Taeyong sucks his cock, hard. He’s fast and skilled and works him up quickly, Jaehyun reaching out to hold Taeyong’s head out at intervals to catch his breath.
Taeyong smiles up at him, because Jaehyun looks fucking wrecked, and it’s all his doing. He kisses along his length and then takes it in its entirety in his mouth, deep-throating Jaehyun. His cock hits the back of his throat but it’s not altogether uncomfortable, a pleasant burn that has Taeyong’s own cock slapping against his stomach as a reminder of how hard it is.
At one point it’s all a bit too much, Taeyong halfway down his cock, looks up and Jaehyun’s staring at him, directly. Eyes dark and blown and lustful but with an unmistakable hint of soft.
Whoever said fucking was better than making love obviously never has.
Taeyong pauses when Jaehyun lets out a moan that’s louder than all his previous combined, pulling off with an obscene squelching noise. Jaehyun’s cock his huge and dripping with precum, lube and Taeyong’s spit. It’s a filthy mess and he fucking loves it.
Taeyong crawls back up onto the bed beside Jaehyun, bottle of lube in hand.
“Watch me,” he says softly, pressing himself up against the wall, legs spread.
Jaehyun’s lips form a shocked o as Taeyong coats his fingers well in lube, looks out at him shyly.
He starts with one finger, head falling backward and a small, soft moan escaping.
Jaehyung moves quickly until he’s lying flat on the mattress, head just between Taeyong’s legs. He kisses Taeyong’s thighs, each side, sucking hickeys into his skin as Taeyong continues to finger himself. His eyes fill with tears when he eventually reaches three fingers and Jaehyun stops his ministrations, pulls back to watch him.
“Baby, Taeyong, ” Jaehyun manages, an unintelligible string of curse words following. Taeyong keens from the burn, his cock twitching when Jaehyun moans and begins to hump into the mattress, desperate for some friction.
“Fuck s’hot,” Taeyong chokes out, “Jae,” and presses in a fourth finger the stretch a pleasing burn. Jaehyun nearly cries out when Taeyong obviously hits his prostate.
“C’mere,” Taeyong says weakly, pulling Jaehyung up so he’s sitting against the wall. He gets a condom from the bedside drawer, rolls it down with expert practice, places his thighs either side, Jaehyun’s cock inches away from his quivering hole.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun mutters, looks at Taeyong like he wants to say more but can’t. Taeyong nods in agreement because fuck. The air is far too overheated and Jaehyun’s forehead and chest is glistening with sweat. Usually Taeyong likes to be clean but fuck if he just doesn’t want to reach forward and lick.
So he does, Jaehyun startling.
“You sure,” Taeyong says, Jaehyun nods.
He lines himself up and slides down slow, Jaehyun’s cock is large and satisfying and makes him feel so fucking full. So fucking good. Taeyong’s head drops back and he lets out a mix between a moan and sigh of satisfaction. Jaehyun’s hands wrap around his middle, firmly, fingers pressing his waist tightly.
“Taeyong, you feel-” Jaehyun trails off and Taeyong mutters a nonsensical agreement. Jaehyun lifts him up, slow, pulls him down slow. Every movement so goddamn irritatingly slow, it burns so good, but it’s a tease.
Taeyong knows instinctively that in a couple weeks, more practice, Jaehyun is going to absolutely kill him. Absolutely.
“Faster, please, ” Taeyong’s voice so wrecked it’s unrecognisable. Jaehyun nods and lifts him faster, his own hips snapping up into Taeyong with more force, speed.
“Oh Jae, ” Taeyong moans, “ ngh, ” and Jaehyun continues faster and faster, his own moans of pleasure joining Taeyong’s the entire room a filthy cacophony of moans and the slap of sweaty skin on skin.
It’s not so long after that all the muscles in Jaehyun’s body contract, knowingly, and Taeyong leans forward to crash their lips together, Jaehyun biting down hard on his shoulder as he hits his peak.
“Keep, uh, keep-” Taeyong manages to instruct, close to finishing without any extra stimulation, Jaehyun nods and fucks Taeyong through his orgasm, the latter’s moans reaching a new volume that’s bound to disturb the neighbours (if it hasn’t already).
“Jaehyunnie, oh, ” Taeyong exclaims, as they come to a slower pace, fucking it through as hot cum spills down his belly.
Jaehyun comes to a stop and kisses him, lifts Taeyong off his cock gently, pulls the condom off and throws it to the side.
“Fuck,” Taeyong mutters, as he rolls off to one side, turns back to reach for Jaehyun’s hand.
Jaehyun obliges willingly, body curving beside Taeyong’s own, hand still holding his on the other side. Taeyong sighs, satisfied, sated and content. They’re sticky and messy but for once he’s not too concerned about all that. They can shower when they get up and - hey - shower sex perhaps?
Jaehyun murmurs into Taeyong’s shoulder, his lips a pleasant vibration to his skin.
“What?” Taeyong asks, turning to face him.
“I love you.”
Taeyong snorts, breaks off into a giggle, “You’re so fucking gay I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
Jaehyun pouts and pinches his cheek, “Say it back.”
“What if I don’t.”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “I know you do.”
And Taeyong turns to face him, head buried into him,
“I love you too.”
Taeyong smiles into his chest, his entire body overcome with lethargy. He’s almost fallen back to sleep when Jaehyun says, “Was I good.”
Taeyong blinks sleepily, looks up at him, “Amazing. But we can improve.”
“What the fuck.”
Taeyong laughs, Jaehyun tackling him down into the mattress, “Let’s practice right now.”
He looks so goddamn determined, serious and Lee Taeyong might be a little, a whole lot in love with this man.
“I love you,” Taeyong smiles, and Jaehyun’s entire demeanour switches.
“So fucking gay.”