Archive of Our Own

*RECORD SCRATCH*

*FREEZE FRAME*

Everything stops: the sound of skin slapping skin, the erratic beating of his heart, the movement of Jeno on his lap. Jaemin, balls deep in Jeno, looks up from the couch to his younger brother, Mark, at the door.

Yup, that’s me, Jaemin thinks to himself. You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation. Well…

Having a younger brother is great. Jaemin could probably make a list of said advantages:

1. Someone to beg Mom for forgiveness;
2. Someone to beg Dad for money; and
3. Someone to annoy when he’s bored.

Mark, five years his junior, has been nothing but the best baby brother.

But recently, Jaemin’s begun to rethink this, because:

1. Jaemin makes his own money now, and there’s nobody to beg for more money from, other than himself;
2. Mark’s moved away for college, so there’s nobody to entertain him when he’s bored; and
3. Mark’s made a new friend, who years down the road, will be a huge cause of grief for him.

“My new friend has a name, hyung,” Mark groans, swiping his palm over his face. “His name is Jeno. Don’t be embarrassing, please.”

Jaemin sighs, returning his attention to the pan, where he’s stir frying vegetables. “When have I ever embarrassed you, Markie?” He asks all innocently, and Mark throws his head back against the couch and wails.

“The last time you came over you nagged at me to do all my chores. Jeno probably thinks I’m so lame,” Mark complains.

Jaemin drizzles more oil into the pan. “Not my fault you don’t know how to use the washing machine,” he says. “You really think you can last two months without doing your laundry? What, you gonna wait till you go home at the end of the year and have Mom do it for you?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought,” Jaemin says. He turns off the fire and shakes the broccoli onto a plate.

Then, he raises an eyebrow at his brother.

“Unless… you’re… trying to impress him?” Jaemin teases, and receives an exasperated sigh.

Mark shoots him a dirty look. “God. Ew. No. Besides… we all know who he has eyes for.”

Jaemin preens at the sound of that. That’s what I thought. 

Mark had begged Jaemin to keep it a secret, but even without Mark spilling the beans Jaemin would have known. Ever since the first time he’d met Jeno, he sensed it. He’d helped Mark move into his suite a few months ago, and when Jeno arrived at the front door, he stood there gaping at not his new roommate, but his new roommate’s hot older brother.

Not that Jaemin’s into that, obviously. He’s just out of college. Dating a freshman would be like dating a toddler. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the attention, especially when Jeno’s eyes light up everytime Jaemin comes to visit Mark, or when Jeno follows him around in the kitchen, asking him if he needs any help. It gives Jaemin all the more reason to drive all the way to his alma mater, just to annoy his brother.

It’s not long after that Jeno comes back from the gym. He saunters into the suite, his freshly showered and scrawny frame drowning in his oversized t-shirt, and freezes by the kitchen island, mesmerized by Jaemin’s presence.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice rough. “Your brother’s here.”

Jaemin waves his spatula. “I’ve come after Mark sent me a picture of his egg pizza. I’ve come to save you from Mark’s cooking.” Then, he gives the boy a playful wink, which immediately sends a blush up his cheeks.

He cards his hand through Jeno’s wet hair and scolds kindly, “You really should dry your hair before going out in the cold, Jeno. You wouldn’t want to get sick.”

And Jeno, face as red as a tomato now, nods a little too vigorously and runs away.

Ah, the joys of young love. Happens all the time Jaemin comes to visit.

But Jaemin should have known that things change, and that time is a little bitch. 

A year passes. Then two. All of a sudden, Jaemin’s helping Mark move into his new off-campus house in senior year and Jeno shows up in a pick-up truck like a whole different person. He walks up the driveway twirling the car keys around his finger, muscle tank loose with the sides all exposed, and Jaemin sees, in utmost clarity, the ripples of muscle along the boy’s obliques.

Jeno’s trimmed his hair into a sleek undercut, the fade beautifully tapered at the sides, and when he lifts his sunglasses off his face Jaemin realizes how much the boy has grown. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks. In the afternoon sun, Jeno’s angular jaw is even sharper, and the bob of his Adam’s apple grows defined as he emerges out of the shade.

“Jaemin-hyung,” he greets when he’s close, and his voice stirs something inside Jaemin, a feeling Jaemin can’t explain.

What the fuck.

“Hi,” Jaemin croaks, inwardly cringing at himself when he hears his raspy voice.

Jeno helps Mark move in the new couch. Then the new cabinets. Then boxes upon boxes of other belongings while Jaemin sits out on the porch with his third can of Gatorade Thirst Quencher. 

Mark told me you hurt your back once, Jeno had said when Jaemin came around to the truck earlier, offering to help. We’ve got this, hyung. Then, he snuck a hand around the small of Jaemin’s back — almost right where his injury was, if Jeno could have known — and Jaemin felt something swift spinning inside him. He’s gotten bold, Jaemin thought, eyes widening in surprise, only to have that surprise ruined upon the realization that Jeno had merely moved him out of the way, so that Mark could unhook the hinge of the truck’s door.

Presently, Jaemin takes another sip of Gatorade, the sickening sour taste of lemon wringing some sense into his brain. He watches Jeno climb atop the back of the pickup truck, fiddling with a few of the ropes around the last few boxes. He drinks in the sight. Jeno had really gone away for the summer and come back hot and jacked, and Jaemin can’t help but feel like a walking predator, sitting out on the porch admiring the view like this.

He steps inside, sidestepping the haphazard landscape of boxes, to find Mark squatting in the living room with his hands in one of the boxes.

“What happened?” Jaemin blurts.

Mark sniffles. “My action figures… Goku’s arm broke off…”

Jaemin peers down at Mark holding his dismembered Goku figurine.

“Not that, you dumb dumb.”

Mark peers up at his brother. “What?”

“Jeno,” Jaemin seethes. He turns behind him to check that he’s still out of earshot. “What happened to him?” Then, he tries to gesture to his arms, his torso, anything to indicate Jeno’s newly jacked body.

“He really got into bulking over the summer,” Mark answers, matter of fact, but the answer is nowhere near enough to satisfy Jaemin. But before he can probe further, the sound of Jeno’s approaching footfalls grows louder, and Jaemin turns around just in time to see Jeno drop a box by the front door.

Beads of sweat trickle down the sides of Jeno’s face, down his neck, dipping underneath his collar.

“Hyung,” Jeno calls. “Are you going to treat us to dinner again?” Jeno asks with his bright smile, his eyes curving into beautiful crescents.

Jaemin gulps. He nods. Then he orders so much food that the two boys will have enough leftovers to last them for a whole week, and Jaemin will have less of a reason to come visit, only because if he stepped foot in there again, Jaemin won’t know what to do with himself.

True to his vows, Jaemin visits less. There’s less of a reason to, anyway. Mark’s big now. He can even manage a stuffed omelette. He also knows how to use the washing machine, and their parents have personally paid for a weekly cleaning service to come around because the last time Mark tried to scrub the bathroom floor, he’d stained it blue. 

Besides, Jaemin’s busy with his adult things. He makes money. Lots of it. He has so much money he buys himself a 65’’ smart TV and has Netflix permanently on in the evenings to keep him from being lonely.

Mark’s also long since stopped teasing about Jeno crush on Jaemin, so Jaemin knows how to infer. He’s a college graduate, after all. Jeno’s probably moved on to someone more appropriate for his age. Good for him, Jaemin thinks, but he can’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the thought. 

No matter. Not like Jaemin cared much about it anyway... He tells himself that constantly.

But some things never change, and Jaemin’s always been a big, fat liar, because as soon as Mark complains that he misses him, he goes straight to his car the first thing the weekend hits.

I’m coming over. I miss you, he types into his phone, then stalls at the blinking cursor. And I think I might even miss Jeno too.

To his benefit (or chagrin), Jeno is always home when Jaemin comes to cook Mark dinner, so he always ends up making dinner for Jeno as well. And Jeno, even after all this time, trails after him in the kitchen. Jeno, in his tight as hell skinny jeans and second skin t-shirt. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose.

He stands close, watching Jaemin make fried rice. It’s not rocket science, but Jeno makes it seem like it. He even takes notes on a little notepad; it’s endearing.

Jeno’s presence next to him grows with each passing second, and the back of Jaemin’s neck feels hot with Jeno’s trained gaze, but Jaemin’s merely imagining it.

“Hey, honey—” Jaemin says and stutters, all at once. “Honey?” The word rolls off his tongue a little too easily.

“Look here~” He gets the words right this time. He shows Jeno how to mix the ingredients correctly.

And Jeno laughs, loud and bright, wordless with amusement. He leans into Jaemin’s shoulder, too casually for Jaemin’s liking, and weeps, “Hyung, you’re hilarious.”

Jaemin doesn’t visit for a stretch of close to two months. His work is killing him, his clients are shit, and he’s on the cusp of a promotion, so he can’t afford to fool around making seafood pancakes at his brother’s house every other weekend. 

Eventually, they announce his promotion, but by then he’s too burnt out to feel anything. When he gets home that Friday, he takes a few gulps of whiskey from the bottle, changes into pajamas, and sleeps through to noon the next day.

The buzz of his phone nudges him awake.

Blearily, he reaches for his phone and holds it above his face.

Hyung, a text on his phone reads. 

Mark? He types back.

A few seconds later, a response:

No haha. It’s Jeno.

Jaemin drops his phone on his face.

The impact is sufficient to slap some sense in him. Why is Jeno texting him? How’d he even get Jaemin’s phone number?

Jaemin sits up in bed and stares at the speech bubble fluttering in the corner of the screen, mirroring the beat of his heart.

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

i got your phone number from mark

haven’t seen you around in forever

jaemin

yeah, work’s been killer

what’s up?

Jaemin wonders why Jeno had contacted him out of the blue. It was the first time Jeno ever initiated something in the three years since he’d met the boy.

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

i heard from mark that you’re in finance

well, i’m trying to get a job… and i could use all the help i can get :D

Oh, Jaemin can’t help but deflate. He quickly shakes himself out of it. What are you even thinking, Na Jaemin? He’s your brother’s best friend! 

He types back a reply.

jaemin

of course

what can do i to help?

“Huh,” Mark blurts when he sees Jaemin at the doorstep. “What are you doing here?”

“Wow, I’m so glad you missed me, my dear brother. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.”

Mark gapes at the box of pizza Jaemin’s carrying in his hands.

“I’m about to head out to the movies,” Mark says.

“Hot date?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow with a cheeky smile, and Mark punches his shoulder lightly.

“I’m not here for you, anyway,” Jaemin says. He shucks his shoes off to the side. “I’m here to help Jeno with his resume.”

“What—” Mark blinks. “Jeno doesn’t need help with his resume.”

Jaemin waves his brother off. “Now, everybody is at a different stage in their progress, okay? Jeno’s already taking a big step asking for help.”

Mark scoffs. “Yeah, well,” he grunts. “Whatever. Enjoy your resume workshop with Jeno, I’m leaving.”

The door clicks behind him. Jaemin sets the pizza down on the dining table, and decides to check if Jeno’s home. 

Sunset seeps in through the tall windows and paints a long, golden bar across the walls, stretching to the far end of the hall. It’s curiously quiet, but entirely serene. Maybe Jeno isn’t home then, but it’s still worth a check, so Jaemin pads down the hallway and is close to calling Jeno’s name when—

“Oh fuck—”

Something slams up against him, hard as a wall, and Jaemin almost thinks he’d walked into one until he opens his eyes and sees not a wall, but Jeno. Half-naked. In a towel.

It takes a second to process. Many seconds, actually. Only when Jaemin registers how Jeno’s hips are pressed against his, does he actually jump apart.

“Oh my god, you scared me,” Jaemin sputters, vision refocusing.

The fog coming out of the bathroom clears. Nothing stands in between Jaemin and the view of Jeno’s full frontal — his chest, his abs, his low-hanging towel that could drop at the slightest breeze. And God, he’s wet too. Jeno and his habit of not fully drying himself off. Jeno and that oblivious, naive grin he’s got on his face.

The towel twitches, and Jaemin immediately plants a palm on where Jeno had tucked the fabric in to prevent the towel from dropping. 

“Your towel,” Jaemin croaks unsophisticatedly. 

“Oh,” Jeno grins. “Heh. Thanks.”

Jaemin sits dumbly in the living room until Jeno emerges, this time fully clothed in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts, but Jaemin. Oh good lord Jaemin. He wants to die, because the first thing he does is zoom into the outline of Jeno’s dick in his shorts, how it bulges from where he tucked it into the side.

“Wanna eat?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin has to bite his tongue before he asks, eat what?

Jaemin asks for Jeno’s resume immediately. No small talk over pizza. No ‘how are you’s or ‘how’s school’.  Jaemin wants to get this over and done with — not because he hates the boy, no. It’s the exact opposite. He wants to evaluate Jeno’s resume, then go home and reflect on his life, because it makes absolutely no sense to be thirsting over a guy five years his junior, who’s also his brother’s best friend.

“So. What do you think?” Jeno asks eagerly.

“Well… let’s take a look.”

3.9 GPA. Solid.

Previous work experience: Summer analyst at some venture capital fund. In-semester internship at a bulge bracket investment firm. Super solid.

Co-President of the University Business Association. And oh, volunteer at the local pet shelter. Well damn.

“No wonder Mark said you didn’t need any help,” Jaemin remarks, thumbing the edge of the A4 paper. “Your resume is stellar.”

“What about the bullet points?” Jeno asks in between bites.

“Who gives a shit about the bullet points?” Jaemin answers honestly. In his experience screening resumes, if the profile ticks all boxes, fuck the bullet points.

“I don’t know… the career counselor told me to write about my analytical ability… my impact…” Jeno says.

“Relax, my dude,” Jaemin reiterates. He makes eye contact with Jeno. “I’d pass your resume in a heartbeat.”

Jeno darts his eyes away. “You’re just saying that because you’re Mark’s brother, and you have to be nice to me or I’ll make his life living hell.”

“That’s not true,” Jaemin replies. Adorable, how Jeno would think that. “I’m Mark’s brother. It’s my job to make his life living hell. We could do it together.”

Wait. What did he just say?

Jaemin blinks. Jeno stares. Jaemin changes the subject.

“Your resume formatting though…”

When Jaemin gets home, he does reflect on his life. There is a resolution that comes out of it. A resolution that quickly dissolves just two weeks later, as soon as his phone buzzes with another text.

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

i got invited for an interview!

jaemin

what’d i tell you about the bullet points ;)

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

it was the times new roman that did it, i’m sure

jaemin

and not my magic touch?

Jaemin looks at his screen. Did he really just say that?

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

… maybe

um, yeah, that’s why i thought i’d text you, hyung, to ask for help

jaemin

for your interview?

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

yeah… behavioral interviews always make me nervous

jaemin

ah, i don’t think i’d be able to visit until this weekend… when’s your interview?

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

in a week

but that’s fine! i was thinking we could just practice on the phone. like you know, roleplay?

Roleplay? God, Jaemin’s got to get his mind out of the gutter.

jeno (.◜◡◝ )

whenever you’re free, of course!

or if you’re not free, that’s fine too

jaemin

how about right now?

No response comes in the next minute, or the minute after that. Belatedly, Jaemin realizes that he shouldn’t have just sprung it on him with no calendar invite, and he’s about to suggest availabilities in his calendar when his phone starts ringing.

“Jaemin-hyung,” Jeno’s voice comes through the receiver. “Thanks… um… thanks for doing this.”

He sounds a little flustered on the line. It’s kind of cute. Wait. What is Jaemin even thinking?

“Of course. Anything to help you,” Jaemin says before he can stop himself. Did that sound too eager? Shit. Okay. “So…”

“So I thought we could roleplay,” Jeno says decisively.

“Yeah?” Jaemin responds.

“Yeah like you ask me tough questions and I struggle to respond.”

Jaemin chuckles. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Jeno-ya.”

“I like being hard. On myself. Hard on myself, yeah,” Jeno fumbles.

Jaemin’s too preoccupied searching for example questions online to even notice.

“Okay… how about this. Warm up question,” Jaemin says. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Oh. Sure,” Jeno steadies himself. Jaemin can hear the rustling of sheets in the background. “Hi. My name is Jeno Lee. I’m a junior majoring in Econ and Math. On campus, I lead the business association, where I am responsible for organizing quarterly events that connect students interested in business to industry leaders.”

Yawn.

“You should also talk about your hobbies.”

“My hobbies?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin adds. “What you do in your free time.”

“I like biking? And also volunteer at the animal shelter.”

“Ooh, tell me more about the shelter.”

“Heh. I go for the cats,” Jeno chuckles. “My mom doesn’t let me have any because I’m allergic, but they’re so adorable I just can’t resist… You think they’ll ask me that during the interview?”

Jaemin straightens in his bed. Right. Fuck.

“Okay next question,” Jaemin reads in his best interviewer voice. “Describe a time when you struggled to build a relationship with someone important. How did you eventually overcome that?”

“Umm…” Jeno trails off at the end of the line. “I was part of this… group project. And there was this member of my… group… that seemed a little out of my league—”

“Okay Jeno, I’m going to have to cut you off right there. It sounds weird to call your teammate out of your league in that context.”

“He’s not my teammate. No! Wait. I mean. Yes, he is my teammate. I meant like he was super smart. And intimidating. So it made it difficult for me, I mean, us, to get to know him better. But then I realized that I was holding myself back by building up this false impression of him without really trying to get to know him, so I made an effort to approach him and build a foundation of common understanding.”

Hmm. Jaemin ponders on Jeno’s words.

“Okay Jeno, try that again, but in clearer sentences. Avoid the ums and the ahs. Remember the STAR method. Situation, Task, Action, Result, and all that bull crap,” Jaemin advises.

Jeno takes a deep breath and tries again, this time more confident and sure. And maybe it’s because it’s late and Jaemin’s sleepy. Or that Jeno just has a really nice, lulling voice. The kind Jaemin just wants to snuggle next to and cook pancakes for. 

Jeno coughs when he’s done. “Uh. Hyung?”

Fuck.

“That was good, Jeno.” Jaemin pinches himself as punishment for being a horny old man. “Tell me about your goals for the next five to ten years.”

“Hmm… I think what is most important to me is to find a career that excites me and makes me want to learn more each day. Yeah. I think I could be happy like that,” Jeno says.

“You really believe your future career could make you happy?” Jaemin ventures. “That’s me asking not as your interviewer, but as your hyung.”

“I don’t think so. I think there’s more to life than a job. There’s the people you love, the things you enjoy doing. But I probably shouldn’t be talking about that in an interview, right?”

Jaemin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I got sidetracked.”

“No, no,” Jeno interrupts. “I like talking about this stuff… with you. So… what about you? Your ten year plan?”

Jaemin takes a while to gather his thoughts, but the first thing that comes to mind is not his fucking job. Nothing remotely close. He thinks about a house in the suburbs, a yard large enough for a garden, a warm body in his bed. Instantly, he feels miserable, because that warm body has a face, and Jaemin feels like a sinner.

“Believe it or not, I’m still figuring it out,” he admits.

Jeno hums. “So tell me about it,” he invites. 

Jaemin, relenting, figures why the heck not. 

He loses track of how long he talks to Jeno on the phone. An hour quickly becomes two, almost three, then Jeno, at the other end of the line, says, “Shit. It’s two a.m. I’m sorry for keeping you up.” Jaemin blinks himself back to reality. Shit. He’s right.

He bids Jeno goodbye and hangs up the phone. Takes a deep breath in, but it’s no use. It doesn’t stop the twist of his gut when he closes his eyes and thinks of that warm body in his future home, and Jeno’s face, peacefully asleep under the sunlight.

Jaemin does a great job forgetting about the three hour phone call. He wakes up the next day with ten billion different fires to put out, two interns to handhold, and a fucking scheduling mishap sometime in the afternoon. When Mark calls him later that evening, Jaemin is so fucking done he just says yes to everything in a tone of utter resignation, and only thinks to pay attention when Mark says really?

“Wait, repeat that one more time.”

Mark clears his throat. “I said that Jeno and I both have interviews in the city next Tuesday. And we thought it would help if we stayed in the city the night before, so we could be there all refreshed. And you... live in the city…”

Jaemin blinks. “So you want to stay with me. And you’re bringing Jeno.” Jaemin extrapolates: Jeno. In his apartment. Uhhh. 

“I only have one couch, Markie.”

“But you have a queen sized bed,” Mark counters.

“And you snore,” Jaemin challenges back.

Eventually, Mark gives in. “Fine, we’ll bring the air mattress, since that’s what you’re so worried about.”

Jaemin sighs internally. His brother doesn’t understand him one bit, but then again, it’s better that he doesn’t.

Monday hits Jaemin like a firetruck, and when he gets home he’s surprised to see Mark and Jeno waiting in the condo lobby. He checks his watch.

“You’re early,” he says, then looks down at the two boys in sweatpants on the fancy chaise longue.

“Someone was really eager,” Mark says, rolling his eyes.

Jeno elbows Mark’s ribs. “That’s what you get from your brother.”

The two boys, with their garment bags, duffel bags, and air mattress, trail behind Jaemin towards the lift lobby, where they happen to cross paths with one of Jaemin’s neighbors. The lady looks at the two college kids behind him.

“They’re here for a sleepover,” Jaemin feels the need to clarify with this lady he barely knows. “It’s my brother and his best friend.”

The lady pushes her glasses up her nose. “Okay.”

Awkwardly, Jaemin side steps around her and into the elevator, where they ride in silence all the way up to the twenty-seventh floor.

Once inside Jaemin’s apartment, Mark runs up to the windows. “Woahhhhh,” Mark exclaims with his face pressed against the glass panels.

“Mark, you’ve seen his shit before,” Jaemin shakes his head in amusement. 

“But Jeno hasn’t. Come, look!”

Mark beckons Jeno over to look at the skyscrapers, the river that runs right through the city, and the beautiful city skyline. Having Mark grow excited over a view Jaemin takes for granted is kind of refreshing, especially since Jaemin keeps the blinds closed most of the time. He watches the two by the window with affection.

“You have a really nice place,” Jeno tells him sometime later, when Mark is busy inflating the air mattress, and Jeno comes by to help Jaemin with the dishes. “I like your TV.”

“You can use it anytime.”

“And also your suit,” Jeno adds.

“You can—“ Wait.

Jaemin’s hands freeze under the tap water.

He looks down at his navy slacks and white button up, which he’d rolled to his elbows to wash the dishes. It doesn’t look all that spectacular to him. And if Jeno’s talking about the blazer, which he’d lone forgone as soon as he stepped home? Well that’s nothing special either.

“Uh. Thanks. I wear it almost every day,” Jaemin manages eventually. 

He lets Mark and Jeno play with the smart TV. Mark is easily impressed with diction mode, and Jeno gets the hang of using two remotes simultaneously. Damn, Jaemin marvels as he looks at them both. Kids and technology these days.

But the thought of them being kids doesn’t last longer than two seconds, because then Jeno settles into the couch comfortably and manspreads. Fucking manspreads and taints Jaemin’s pure Scandinavian couch.

Again, with those basketball shorts. And now… with the pant holes… very… open. 

Jaemin chokes on his water. He ducks into the kitchen where he proceeds to hack his lungs like the senior citizen he is, and when he finally emerges Jeno has the audacity to ask, “Hyung, are you ok?”

Like an elderly recluse, Jaemin hides in his bedroom for the rest of the night. With good reason, of course. He’s a grown man that knows how to extricate himself from a sticky situation. Sticky. Wait, no. Ugh. Jaemin massages his temples.

If he has to hear Mark ask Jeno about his “first times” one more time, Jaemin is going to fucking lose it.

“Soo. Jeno,” comes Mark’s voice through the door. “Tell me about the first time you led a team.”

That’s it.

Jaemin stomps out to the living room and flickers the light switch menacingly. 

“I think it’s time for you boys to go to sleep.”

Mark and Jeno look up from their laptops, fully innocent.

“You’ll do fine tomorrow at your interviews, I promise,” Jaemin assures, looking at the sheets of paper strewn around them and feeling a tinge of pity.

Afterwards, everything seems to settle. There’s the sound of the air mattress inflator machine giving the mattress one last boost of air. Shuffling of feet towards the bathroom. Then silence. Silence so fucking loud that Jaemin can hear his own thoughts ping-ponging inside his brain.

He thinks about his first time, which wasn’t very memorable at all. Rather mediocre, in fact. Some one-nighter he was too drunk to remember and honestly, something he’d rather forget. An inconsequential blip on the timeline of his life. 

Briefly, he wonders if Mark has… God. Ew. Mini barf up his throat. That’s fucking disgusting, he thinks, shaking his head.

And then, Jeno. Oh… He wonders if Jeno’s first time was good. It better have been, because he deserves it, and if any punk treated him like anything less than a king, he’d downright burn the university to the ground. A little extreme for someone who’s not even his friend. But the title of best friend’s brother is a close second, right? 

For some reason, however, the thought of someone else’s hands on Jeno sours Jaemin’s mouth. The thought of someone else’s mouth on his lips, on his skin, on his— Stop it. Jaemin slaps his cheek. But then his mind keeps returning to the same twisted wavelength — I could show him his first time. I could treat him right.

He’s pulsing with envy so unbearable it’s making him hot, so Jaemin kicks his sheets off and decides to go to the kitchen for some water. But even that is too much for the universe to handle, because there Jeno is in the darkness, wordlessly staring at the sink.

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls groggily, rubbing his eyes to make sure it’s really him and not some thief. But it’s him alright. Jeno in his mussed hair, loose fitting white-shirt, and milky smooth skin. A thief that’s come to steal Jaemin’s heart.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jaemin asks, coming closer. 

Jeno steps aside for Jaemin to grab some water from the tap.

Drip, drip of water against the metal sink.

“Yeah,” Jeno says, his voice small in the night. “Mark snores.”

Jaemin doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t know what to do with his hands either, so he fiddles with the handle of his mug until Jeno asks, “Do you mind if… I crash in your room? He’s going to keep me up all night.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Jaemin says immediately.

“I’ll take the floor—”

“Absolutely not,” Jaemin insists, catching Jeno by the shoulder, sudden surge of protectiveness rising within him. “My bed’s big enough for two, if you don’t mind sharing.”

Jeno’s lips part slightly, releasing a shallow breath that Jaemin doesn’t hear, because his own ears only hear his thundering pulse.

“I… Yeah. Of course I don’t mind, hyung.” He darts his eyes away. Bites his bottom lip. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Jaemin’s face relaxes. “Don’t be sorry at all.” 

He gestures for Jeno to follow him in, leading him to the other edge of his bed he barely touches. 

There is enough space between them to fit another person, but Jaemin doesn’t dare move an inch. Sometime in the night, however, he stirs awake when something hits his shin. His eyelids flutter open to see Jeno asleep and across the border, subconsciously nestling into his space. Jaemin doesn’t move. He hates himself for it — for the wash of shyness and youth that Jeno’s plunged him back into — because now Jaemin knows what it feels like to have someone tunnel inside him and nestle into him like spoons would in a drawer, so natural, so unquestionable.

When Jaemin wakes up again, the other side of the bed is cold.

Jaemin emerges from his bedroom at dawn to see the air mattress deflated and Mark nowhere to be seen. Only Jeno, in the middle of the living room, fiddling with his cufflinks.

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls. Jeno raises his head at the sound of Jaemin’s sleep-riddled voice.

“Hyung.”

“Where’s Mark?” Jaemin asks, looking around.

Jeno fiddles with his sleeve distractedly. “He’s got an interview bright and early. It’s running all day long, and then some networking dinner in the evening.”

Jaemin hums in acknowledgement, going over to get the coffee machine running. “And what about yourself?”

“I have superday. It’ll last till… the middle of the afternoon, I think?” Jeno says. His cufflinks drop on the ground.

“Here.” Jaemin goes towards him. “Let me help with that. Come on. Give me your hand.”

Gingerly, Jeno holds his wrist out for Jaemin, and Jaemin deftly clasps the links in the button holes. 

“Pretty,” Jaemin mutters absently at the glint of gold in the light, how it accentuates the strength of Jeno’s wrists. “The cuff links,” he adds much later, though he knows course correction makes no difference if he’s already barrelling down the wrong path.

Jeno’s got on nice black slacks that are tight around his thighs. A little too nice around his ass. His white button up is tucked into his waist, accentuating his slim waist. A loose navy tie dangles around his neck.

“You need help with that too?” Jaemin nudges at the tie. 

“Uh,” Jeno hesitates. “I was going to follow a YouTube tutorial.” 

“Yeah, no. I’m tying that for you.” 

Jaemin swats Jeno’s hand away and proceeds to grab the loose ends, looping the fabric around the knot and then pulling the tie close to the base of Jeno’s throat. He’s done within seconds, the practiced motion an every day routine for him. He steps away for a final look.

“Perfect.” 

He lifts his eyes to meet Jeno’s, who’s own are wide with admiration, the same puppy look he’s had for years. Jaemin knows the look; it’s nothing more. 

“You’re going to ace it.”

Jaemin heads home at around three in the afternoon, just in time to catch Jeno walking back into his apartment lobby. The boy jumps when he sees Jaemin’s figure, waving to him in the distance, and he waits by the door obediently until Jaemin catches up.

“What are you doing home so early?” is the first thing Jeno asks.

“Finished early,” Jaemin replies. Wrong. Jaemin had called in sick for the rest of the day. Not necessarily a lie, because he did genuinely find it difficult to focus. “Thought you might appreciate some company at home, with Mark being busy and all.”

Jeno straightens. “I… Yeah.”

They ride up the elevator.

“So, how’d it go?” Jaemin breaks the silence, looking at Jeno through the reflection in the elevator mirrors. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth opens and closes like he’s got something to say, but he doesn’t say it. Enough time passes for Jaemin to figure that it probably didn’t go well, and he shouldn’t probe further. 

Jaemin unlocks the front door to his apartment and makes a beeline for the freezer, knowing one thing that could guarantee to solve all. “Do you want ice cream?” He yells with his head half in the freezer.

Shuffling of feet into the kitchen. Jeno clears his throat.

“My interviews went great, actually.”

Jaemin stands up straight. He closes the freezer door. “Oh. That’s good then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I suppose it is,” Jeno continues. He shuffles inside and leans against the counter, right by Jaemin. He’s close enough for Jaemin to see the thoughts spinning in his eyes, the unplaced tension that’s got Jeno’s fists balled in his pants.

“It’s a good thing, Jeno. If it went well, you won’t have to do any more interviews ever again. No more interview practice. No more silly trips to the city,” Jaemin rambles.

Jeno’s lips twist to the sides, but he’s still quiet.

It hurts Jaemin to see Jeno like this. Without hesitating, he reaches to pat Jeno’s shoulder. Without thinking, he says, “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

Jeno’s eyes widen.

Wait. Fuck. What did Jaemin just say?

“Uh,” Jaemin coughs. He can fix this. “Wait—”

But before Jaemin can say another word, Jeno’s lips are moving.

“Fuck it.”

He grabs Jaemin by the lapels of his blazer and pulls him in for a kiss. It happens so suddenly Jaemin doesn’t believe it. The pressure of Jeno’s entire body pressed against his, kiss of hips, chest to chest, the wet slick of Jeno’s lips. In a lapse of judgment, Jaemin melts against him. His eyes flutter close and he parts his lips to Jeno’s desperate licks, and he almost loses himself until Jeno’s hands trail to his belt. Alarm bells blare in his head. He pushes Jeno away.

Panting, he mutters, “Jeno, we can’t.”

Jeno’s eyes narrow. “What?”

Jaemin cards a hand through his hair, thinking. “You’re my little brother’s best friend.”

Jeno scoffs, wiping the trail of saliva at the corner of his mouth. Slowly, as though he knows Jaemin is watching.

“What Mark doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Jaemin continues, “You’re five years younger than me.”

“And I’ve wanted you for close to four years now,” Jeno says in return.

Jaemin knows that, but his jaw still drops anyway at the conviction in Jeno’s voice.

“I know what I want,” Jeno says firmly. “Do you?”

I want you. There’s no running away from it now, especially when Jeno, the little devil, has caged him in with his arms around his hips in his very own kitchen.

“Any other excuses you’d like to get out of the way? Because I’m dreamt of having your cock in my mouth for years and if you’re scared to do it because Mark—”

Jaemin presses his hips even closer to Jeno’s.

“Just shut up already,” he grits, and then leans in again to capture Jeno’s lips. His palms go up to cup Jeno’s lovely jaw as he angles his head in. Jeno kisses hungrily, desperately, almost as if he’s running out of time, and Jaemin’s heart swells knowing now how much Jeno has actually wanted. He runs his hands along Jeno’s sides. We have all the time in the world,  Jaemin tries to say through the soft caress. 

Jaemin pushes Jeno’s lips apart with a teasing swipe of his tongue, eliciting a soft gasp, then a louder one when Jaemin’s tongue brushes against his, the wetness and the heat overwhelming.

When they part, Jeno’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s heaving through the mouth.

“Four years,” Jaemin teases, licking his lips. 

Jeno thumbs the edge of Jaemin’s slacks. “Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to suck you off the moment I laid my eyes on you?” Jeno’s fingers trail down Jaemin’s zipper, thumbing the growing bulge of Jaemin’s cock straining against the fabric. Feather light touches that feel like fire.

“Fuck,” Jaemin spits. He closes his eyes and sees the image of freshman year Jeno, just legal, on his knees begging to be ruined. “The things you do to me,” he grunts, and the pressure on his cock growing stronger with each stroke. He can feel himself leaking already.

“I’ll finally get to do them for you now,” Jeno says, and Jaemin doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk hanging on his lips. 

“Get on your knees then,” Jaemin commands. Obediently, Jeno sinks down, in the process nuzzling his face close to Jaemin’s clothed erection, where Jaemin can feel the heat of Jeno’s breath, even through the fabric. 

“Fucking tease,” he grunts, and makes way to undo his belt. 

Jeno stops him with his hand.

“Keep it on, hyung. I wanna suck you off just like this.”

Honestly, the number of times Jeno has shocked him in the last fifteen minutes has been astronomical. He watches, in awe, as Jeno unzips his fly and pulls Jaemin’s hard cock through the hole in his boxer, and it stands, long and hard, leaking in Jeno’s palm.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Jeno says, his eyes on the delicious curve of his cock, mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum already pooling at the tip. He licks a long stripe up the underside, careful to do it right where he sees a vein, and makes sure Jaemin’s watching him when he does it. “You look so sexy in your suit, hyung. Especially like this, for me,” he says, then he swallows Jaemin wholesale.

The wet heat around Jaemin’s cock engulfs him. Jaemin throws his head back in ecstasy. Jeno bobs his head up and down his length, occasionally swirling his tongue around the slit just to hear Jaemin whimper. He takes Jaemin in so well. He even reaches for Jaemin’s hand to place it at his throat, so that Jaemin knows how deep Jeno’s taking it. How good Jeno is for him. 

God, he’s. He’s unreal. Jaemin’s lips part in pleasure. Absolute depraved pleasure, watching Jeno pull him apart. Everytime his cock hits the back of Jeno’s throat, Jaemin can’t help but moan. When he looks down, Jeno is looking back up at him, his beautiful eyes rimmed red, and that’s all it takes to bring Jaemin close.

He taps Jeno’s cheek.

“Baby, I’m close. Pull off—”

But Jeno sucks harder. He keeps fucking going, and Jaemin’s spilling down his throat, hips stuttering until he can barely feel his knees. God, that was the best head of his life.

When he comes down from his high, he pulls Jeno up and kisses him, taste of his cum on his tongue.

“You didn’t have to swallow babe,” he says, kissing Jeno’s wet lashes.

“I didn’t want you to come on me,” Jeno clarifies. “I only have one suit.”

It takes a moment for the statement to click. Oh god. “Jeno!”

Jeno, laughing, leans in to kiss him again. Slower, more deliberate now. And in their proximity, Jaemin feels Jeno’s desire throbbing through his pants.

Jaemin pulls apart. 

“My turn now.”

Because Jeno only has one suit, Jaemin doesn’t want to risk staining it or ripping it, so he carries Jeno into his bedroom and undresses him piece by piece.

“Stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already,” Jeno grumbles, looking up at Jaemin. His chest is beautifully bared,  his muscles rippling like silk in the wind, and his dick, straining against his briefs, has left a wet patch on the fabric. Just the sight of Jeno needy like this could be Jaemin’s masturbation material for weeks.

“What if I like seeing you like this,” Jaemin says, kneeling closer. He unbuttons his shirt and sheds it, watching for Jeno’s reaction. Jeno only groans.

“Please, Jaemin-hyung,” Jeno cries, throwing his head back on Jaemin’s pillow.

Oh oops, Jaemin didn’t mean to make Jeno beg. Not yet.

“Tell me, baby. How much do you want me?” He says, spreading Jeno’s legs apart and shuffling between them. He traces along the perimeter of the wet stain, and Jeno’s cock twitches in interest. 

“Didn’t I already tell you?” Jeno pants, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ve wanted you since Day One.”

Jaemin rubs Jeno’s head through the fabric, causing Jeno to gasp at the sensation.

“What was it that you wanted?” Jaemin probes further, keeping his touches painfully slow. 

Jeno breathes in a deep, stern breath to keep himself from shaking. “You are so fucking hot. You—” Jeno pants “— show up and cook dinner for us in your work clothes so sometimes… I can’t help but excuse myself to jerk off to the image of you in the bathroom.”

“While I was still there?” Jaemin fingers Jeno’s waistband. He dips his thumb under it and Jeno’s cock, freed from the tension, springs to brush against Jaemin’s fingertips. It sends a jolt up Jeno’s spine, and he arches to the touch.

“Yes,” Jeno admits, breath shallow as Jaemin begins to stroke lazily up his cock. “I imagined you pushing me up against the bathroom door and fucking me.”

Jeno is heavy in Jaemin’s palm. So heavy and leaking.

“And what if I heard you then? You filthy little thing, getting off to your roommate’s brother. What if I came into the bathroom and found you there like that, hmm?” Jaemin’s enjoying riling Jeno up. He continues stroking him, leaning forward to brush his lips on the insides of Jeno’s thighs, where he realizes with absolute delight is also lined with veins. Jeno quivers when Jaemin runs his tongue along them.

Jeno gulps to gather his composure through Jaemin’s ministrations. “I would’ve asked you to fuck me. Use me,” he says without shame. Jaemin’s face, on the other hand, burns.

“Fuck, Jeno, you’re making me hard again. Look at you, leaking like this for me.”

Jeno flutters his eyelids open, speaking through the haze of arousement. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve stayed awake, wishing that you were inside me.”

Jesus fucking christ.

Jaemin grabs for the lube in his bedside drawer, placing it closer for later. Then, he bends forward and takes Jeno in his mouth. Immediately, Jeno bucks upwards at the sensation.

Jaemin still takes his time, licking up the shaft. He wants to feel all of Jeno in his mouth, relish in its girth and stretch of his lips. Jeno’s waited for four years. He can wait a little longer.

“You… uh…” Jaemin says when he pulls off, and Jeno protests the loss of contact with a whine. “You done this before?” 

Jeno shakes his head no.

Shit, Jaemin thinks. He’s a virgin.

“I didn’t want to do it with anyone other than you,” Jeno says, and Jaemin’s brain literally explodes. Jaemin nearly comes in his pants. It takes a moment to process, to sink in. Jeno… he really… Jaemin’s going to make it up to him. He needs to.

He coats his fingers with lube and circles the rim of Jeno’s entrance, careful to watch for Jeno’s reaction, because the first one’s always the toughest. He sucks on Jeno’s cock at the same time, swirling his tongue around the head. Surprisingly, Jeno takes him in well, only releasing a soft, barely audible sigh.

“You don’t need to be so careful,” he supplies. “I’ve fingered myself before.”

Oh.

“And what’d you think about when you were doing it?” Jaemin asks, slipping in a second finger. Jeno’s walls are so tight, so wet, so warm.

“That I’d need to be able to take it… To take your cock in me… Hyung, it’s big,” Jeno whimpers when Jaemin strokes his inner walls. When Jaemin crooks his finger right at his most sensitive spot, Jeno whimpers.

Found it.

Jaemin has three fingers up Jeno’s pretty hole now, and his mouth waters at just how good Jeno is taking it. God. Imagine him taking his dick. He takes Jeno into his mouth again, sucking on Jeno’s cock while he fingers him, and Jeno’s moans grow louder and louder until it’s the only thing Jaemin can focus on.

Jeno’s wanton moans bury deep into his brain — he’ll never be able to look at the boy the same way again without remembering the way he comes apart with Jaemin’s name on his lips.

“Jaemin-hyung, Jaeminnie. I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop—” Jeno cries.

“Then cum, baby. Who said I’m going to be done with you after this?” He smirks against Jeno’s tip.

Jeno releases a guttural moan, spilling onto Jaemin’s hand and onto Jaemin’s face, because there’s just so much of it. Long, white stripes of release that paint across his abs. Jaemin sits up to admire his masterpiece, cleans the stripe on his cheek with his thumb, and sucks his fingers clean. Jeno sees it all, his body sagging against Jaemin’s sheets.

Jaemin kneels forward to lick Jeno’s abs clean, delighting in the way Jeno squirms at the touch of his tongue.

“Jaeminnie…” Jeno calls, overwhelmed with post-orgasm euphoria. Jaemin likes the sound of that. Jaeminnie.

When Jeno’s breath steadies, and sensation returns to his limbs, Jaemin whispers into Jeno’s neck.

“Think you can go again?”

Jeno’s cock twitches just at the mention.

Jaemin can’t help but smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Pulling Jeno upright, he positions him on his knees, placing a pillow underneath his hips. Jaemin’s always liked doggy, and looking at Jeno on his knees, his gaping hole begging to be filled, sets off something animalistic in him. At the sound of the crinking of a condom wrapper, however, Jeno stops him immediately.

“What are you doing?” He asks, perking up.

Jaemin stops fiddling with the wrapper, which is impossible to open with lubed fingers.

“Putting on a condom,” Jaemin says, like the most normal thing.

“...You clean?” Jeno asks, turning his head around to make eye contact. The slight hesitation is a hint, but the desperation on Jeno’s face gives him away. Jaemin understands the look immediately. 

“I’m not sleeping with anybody else. The only person I want is you,” he says.

“Then fuck me raw,” Jeno grits, his head bowing down to burrow in the sheets like he’s… embarrassed? Fuck. Jaemin caresses the curve of Jeno’s ass. How does Jeno manage to be both bold and shy at the same time? He gives Jeno’s ass a tight slap.

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Have you leaking with my cum so that you know you’re mine?”

Jeno shudders at the mix of pleasure and pain. “Fuck, yes, please.”

Jaemin’s cock is hard again now, throbbing with desire. He rubs it along the crack, pushing his length up and spreading his slick over Jeno’s smooth skin. I could be so deep in him, Jaemin thinks, looking at the delicious curve of his cock lined up on Jeno’s body. I could fill him up… all the way.

“I’m ready, Jaeminnie. Please,” Jeno begs again when the sensation is too much, but not enough.

Jaemin doesn’t need to be asked twice. He positions his cock at Jeno’s entrance and pushes in. 

It’s the first push that always feels the best. His mouth waters at the feeling of being engulfed by Jeno’s tight, wet walls. Jeno releases a long, satisfied shudder when Jaemin bottoms out. Jaemin sags his weight onto Jeno a little, trying to catalogue the closeness of their bodies.

“So full,” Jeno pants, as if someone had just punched the air out of his lungs.

Jaemin preens at the compliment. He pulls out, just a little, entranced at the way Jeno’s hole is airtight around him, then pushes in again, and again, working up a pace that has Jaemin’s mind fogging up from lust. The drag of his cock along the ridges of Jeno’s walls sends shock waves up his spine. Jesus, he feels so fucking good. He begins to thrust erratically, losing control as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Along the way, Jeno’s knees give way, and Jaemin covers Jeno’s body with his own, his chest is pressed against his back. Fucking prone makes Jaemin feel like he’s driving deeper into Jeno, almost as if he could become one. As Jaemin thrusts, he kisses along Jeno’s shoulder blades, biting and sucking on the now bruised skin. He holds Jeno by the waist.

“You feel so fucking good around me, Jen,” Jaemin whispers into the shell of Jeno’s ear.

“So tight,” Jaemin presses his thumbs into Jeno’s hips hard enough to leave an imprint. Maybe he likes it that way. “All mine.”

Jaemin reaches to grasp Jeno’s hand in his, fucking into him until Jeno comes untouched on his sheets, and the clenching of Jeno’s hole around him and sound of Jeno’s cries pushes Jaemin over the edge, until he’s coming as well, hips stuttering as he empties his cum deep within him.

Following Jaemin’s better judgment, they don’t go at it again in the bathroom, lest he fall and die. Worst thing of all would be to have Mark come home and find him naked and dead on the bathroom floor. They do, however, use up all the hot water kissing underneath the shower, so Mark’s going to have to deal with that problem instead.

Jaemin makes Jeno japaghetti on the stove, and they settle on the couch in front of Jaemin’s big TV. Some show is on, but Jaemin hasn’t been paying attention since the beginning of it. Not with Jeno sitting beside him looking like that.

Jeno, freshly showered with his hair fully dry this time, looks perfect in Jaemin’s mint hoodie. The color brings out his boyish charm, and as much as Jaemin loves that hoodie, he wouldn’t mind much if Jeno kept it.

After dinner, Jeno snuggles up next to Jaemin on the couch. Idly, Jaemin plays with the hair at the base of Jeno’s neck.

“So… why were you upset earlier? Right when we came home?” Jaemin thinks to ask. Jeno doesn’t respond for a while. The room is only filled with the sound of the TV.

Jeno fidgets with the drawstrings on Jaemin’s hoodie. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Jaemin’s face softens at Jeno’s tone, a smile cracking his lips. “Try me.”

“I… I had a plan,” Jeno says. He spreads his hands out in front of him as if spreading a map. “How to Get a Boyfriend. The STAR method by Lee Jeno.”

“The STAR method.”

“Yeah. Seduce. Tease. Anal. Release,” Jeno says with the straightest face ever. Jaemin combusts with laughter at the sound of it. Jeno continues, “I had a whole seduction plan to try and get your attention, so if I got a job too quickly it would’ve ruined everything.”

“You had a seduction plan? ” Jaemin questions. The gears in his head begin turning. He thinks back to the muscle tank. The casual and not so casual touches. The towel. The manspreading. The bulging dick in Jeno’s pants.

“I wanted you to stop looking at me like a kid,” Jeno admits softly, pink dusting his cheeks. Jaemin wants to kiss him so bad.

“When did your plan start?” 

Humming, Jeno responds, “... with the resume help?”

Jaemin is shaking his head at himself. He is such a fool. His head falls on Jeno’s shoulder, and his senses are filled with the smell of vanilla, soothing and sweet. “Oh baby, trust me. I stopped looking at you like a kid long before you tried that.” 

Jeno’s head whips around. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin thumbs the thin skin on Jeno’s neck. “I promise.”

Jaemin leans in to kiss the doubt off Jeno’s face — one kiss on his temple, another on his lips. There, Jeno deepens it, crawling closer to Jaemin and eventually landing in his lap. Jaemin admires his strong thighs and his solid weight on his chest. Despite it, he feels buoyant. So buoyant he feels without Jeno there, he might float and fly away. He runs his hands up to wrap around Jeno’s small waist, and then, belatedly:

“Wait. Boyfriend?”

The word jolts Jeno out of it. “Oh,” he panics. “I mean. You don’t have to—”

“Did you mean it?” Jaemin asks.

Jeno sinks a little deeper in his lap. “Of course, hyung.”

“Oh man. I can’t believe we fucked before I took you out on a proper date,” Jaemin bemoans. “But I’ll make up for it. Jeno, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Jeno huffs. “What do you think?” Then, with the most innocent look on his face, he asks:

“But until then, I can still touch you, right?”

Jaemin perks up at the sound of that. “Oh? Tell me. What did you have in mind?”

“Mmm,” Jeno times his hum with a pointed roll of his hips. “Just wanna make hyung feel good. That’s all.”

Immediately, Jaemin feels himself harden just at the mere suggestion of round three. God, the things Jeno does to him. 

“But we just cleaned up, baby. Wanna get dirty again?”

Jeno, coming close to Jaemin’s ear, whispers, “Can you blame me for liking it messy?”

Fuck. A fuse in Jaemin ignites, and he grabs Jeno roughly by the waist. 

“Show me how you’re going to make me feel good then.”

And Jeno, precious Jeno, pulls out the bottle of lube from the hoodie pocket — had he been carrying it in there all along? Hastily, he pulls his pants down, then Jaemin’s too, and he slicks Jaemin up again, his hand moving up Jaemin’s cock fast and dirty like it’d been forever since he’d had sex. In reality, he was still moving with the soreness of being thoroughly fucked just hours before.

“Yeah,” Jaemin breathes, feeling swirling heat pool in his core once again. “Just like that.”

His eyelids grow heavy, and Jaemin watches through hooded lids as Jeno adjusts himself, and in one swift motion, sinks down onto Jaemin’s thick cock. God. Jaemin throws his head back at the tight, familiar warmth. It feels amazing. And then Jeno moves. Slow at first, so that Jaemin sees in utmost clarity his cock sheathed into Jeno’s heat, and how it goes so deep… so fucking deep. Then Jeno quickens, going up and down Jaemin’s length at a pace that has his mind spinning.

“Where’d you even learn… how to do this?” Jaemin struggles to speak through the waves of pleasure, transfixed at Jeno’s mesmerizing motion. Somewhere along the line his mint hoodie had come off, and there Jeno was, completely naked and taking Jaemin in like a good little slut.

“I watched video tutorials,” Jeno says plainly.

“Ah,” Jaemin gasps. “You mean porn.”

Jeno slams onto his cock. “I wanted to impress you,” he says.

Jaemin squeezes the flesh of Jeno’s ass. “Was that why you showed me your resume?”

The snide remark earns him a tight clenching around his cock, which promptly shuts him up. And amidst the euphoria, something suddenly prods at the back of Jaemin’s mind.

“Hey,” he says in the middle of it. “When did you say Mark was coming home?”

Jeno pouts, leaning his chest close. “I thought you told me to shut up about Mark?” And then, dangerously close to his ear, so close he feels the wetness of Jeno’s breath on his skin, Jaemin hears Jeno whisper:

“But I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, hyung? To have someone walk in with your cock deep inside me? They’d know how good you are at taking me apart. Even Markie.”

Something changes within him. It happens too quickly for Jaemin to explain, because then he’s got his hands on Jeno’s hips and he’s driving up into Jeno’s hole, watching Jeno’s lips fall apart in full bliss. 

Maybe Jeno’s onto something then. He’d love to litter Jeno with kisses, ones that would bloom for days. He’d love for people to wonder who did it. But, most important of all, he—

“What the fuck.”

Jeno stops. Jaemin stops. Mark, standing by the door, also stops.

Jaemin, still balls deep in Mark’s best friend, stares at Mark standing by the entrance until his brother remembers to breathe again, before slamming the door shut.

Still shell-shocked, Jaemin doesn’t have the words or the brain power to think about what to do next, so it’s Jeno that steps in.

“You think he’s giving us time to finish, or he’s expecting us to put on clothes… because—”

“God fucking damn it,” Mark’s unmistakable croak comes through the door. “Will you guys put on some clothes?”

Jaemin can’t believe it. He’s in his late 20s and he’s sitting on his lube stained couch getting lectured by his younger brother, in his own goddamn house.

“Hyung, why?” Mark asks, frustrated. “Out in the open. With the curtains undrawn. With the door unlocked. Where anybody—” he points at himself “— can just walk in and see?”

“It just happened.”

Mark scrubs his face with his hand. “I even brought back extra hor d'oeuvres for you guys, you ungrateful pieces of shit.” 

Jeno has the audacity to make grabby hands at the ziploc bag.

“And I have to sleep on that couch tonight!” Mark complains. “You know what, I’m taking your bed.”

Jaemin sends him a sexy wink.

“Fucking gross. Fine, I’ll take the air mattress,” Mark shouts. But then he pauses and thinks. “Wait. Unless…”

Later, after everything’s settled, and Mark’s passed out on the doubly sanitized air mattress, Jeno creeps up to Jaemin in bed. The brush of bare skin sends shivers up Jaemin’s spine.

“Hey hyung. You said Mark’s a heavy sleeper, right?” He asks, flashing an innocuous smile. His hands are moving dangerously close to his cock. “How about we finish what we started?”

Jesus. Jaemin is lost for words… but maybe he doesn’t need any. His mouth is going to be occupied, after all.

Jeno is going to be the death of him.