Archive of Our Own

Chenle works part-time at the local gym because, apparently, being rich doesn’t mean your parents will fund your every whim. Something about “learning responsibility” and “earning things for yourself” – or whatever. In his case, that translated to having his allowance cut after allegedly "being too much". So what if he got a life-size Stephen Curry statue? Everyone’s got their hobbies. He’s still not sure how checking people in, answering phones, and pretending to know what half the machines do is supposed to build character, but sure.

The job is simple and doesn’t require him to deal with annoying people every day unlike Haechan, who works at a supermarket and constantly deals with impatient customers and drunk college kids trying to buy soju with their student IDs, or Renjun, who’s stuck making overpriced coffee for people who don’t know the difference between a flat white and a latte and only remember to ask for oat milk after he’s already steamed the regular one.

Meanwhile, he gets paid to sit at a desk, judge people’s form, and watch NBA games on mute. It’s the perfect gig. The pay’s pretty decent, the hours are awesome. What more could he ask for?

On slow days, his phone stays balanced on the counter while he scrolls endlessly through basketball twitter, watching highlight clips like it’s his full-time job. Busy days? Well, he’s got a whole buffet of biceps, back muscles, and absolutely unnecessary grunting to admire while pretending to actually check people in. Chenle’s mastered the art of looking busy without actually doing much, all while keeping his horniness in check behind a perfect poker face.

For someone who works at a gym, he doesn’t actually work out. In fact, he utterly detests it. Too much effort, way too boring, and seriously so goddamn exhausting. He’d take playing basketball for two hours straight over lifting weights any day. He’s perfectly fine just sitting at the front desk, judging everyone’s form like he knows a shit, and sneaking quick glances at the crowd instead of breaking a sweat himself.

So all he does during his shifts is sit. And stare. A lot. Which isn’t so bad, honestly, because it means he gets to watch all kinds of people come and go. 

There’s the guy who grunts so loud you’d think he’s trying to summon demons or open a portal to another dimension. Another dude who sounds like he’s trying to start a wind tunnel with every breath that gets to him every damn time. The influencer who never misses a chance to set up her tripod and film every single rep, and the disgusting couple who treat the stretching area like their own private love nest; kissing, giggling, making Chenle wish for noise-canceling headphones were allowed while on duty. He’s not blind to their "form corrections" which are really just an excuse to grope each other. Freaks. 

Then there are the inseparable buddies who always come in pairs, spotting each other like it’s some secret gym ritual, high-fiving and encouraging each other between sets. The newbies who clearly just searched “how to lift” on TikTok five minutes ago, wobbling around with way too much weight. And the regular guy who shows up only to talk loudly on the phone while barely moving an inch. Plus, there’s this girl who sticks to the cardio machines religiously and never even glances at the weights.

And of course, Jeno, the undisputed gym god, who makes working out look like art in motion. Biceps, abs, the whole package. He’s hands down the strongest and the most handsome guy in the gym. His gym bro Jaemin is just as much of a god as well, if not more. Best chest, and objectively speaking, the most perfect ass around. 

So yeah, Chenle's pretty familiar with the gym crowd by now. Memorized all their faces and routines as if it’s part of the job. 

Which is why when the emo nerd from his econ lecture walks in with his hood up, headphones in, avoiding eye contact, Chenle does a double take so hard his neck literally cracks. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see Park Jisung here. The shy, lanky kid who always looks like he might disappear or run if you stare too long. Cute in that awkward, fumbling kind of way, always flushing bright red and getting flustered whenever anyone (Chenle included) tries to start a conversation with him. 

They aren’t exactly friends, more like barely acquaintances who occasionally share notes and trade a few words between classes. Nothing serious, really. But Chenle can’t deny that seeing Jisung here, in this place, is the last thing he expected, even if he doesn’t really know him that well.

Like, who would’ve guessed Park Jisung actually goes to the gym? Not that Chenle’s judging or anything. He’s just… surprised, that’s all. He’s never seen him around in the two months he’s been working here, and Jisung didn’t really strike him as the type to work out. He seems more like the emo type, always got his headphones on, wears oversized band tees or hoodies and beat-up Vans. You know, the kind of guy who just vibes in his own little world. No interest in weights or whatsoever.

Chenle’s seen him around campus a few times. Jisung’s usually by himself or with that guy named Mark, who Chenle sometimes plays basketball with. Truth be told, he has no clue how those two even met, but asking Mark would probably come off wrong, so he never bothered to ask or butt in. He’s not that nosy. Just ridiculously curious, that’s all. Anyway. Jisung’s almost always glued to his phone, scrolling or texting with his head down low. And Chenle can’t help but notice the way Jisung stands, all hunched shoulders and quiet energy, like he wants to be as invisible as possible. Makes you wonder what’s really going on behind that shy exterior.

So, based on the little Chenle knows about that Jisung guy, there’s no way he would’ve thought he was into working out, especially with how shy and nerdy he usually seems. Honestly, it’s probably the biggest surprise Chenle’s faced in his entire two months on the job. And that’s saying something, considering the time someone brought their dog to the gym and it got loose, causing a full-on chase around the treadmills. Ever since then, the gym’s had a strict no-pets policy.

Ohh, he’s sort of excited now. This might be a nice break from the usual slow days. Today’s been pretty boring, anyway. No Jaemin or Jeno around, either. He glances over at Jisung again, curious to see what kind of workout he’s here for. There’s always two types of people at the gym: those who only stick to cardio, and those who go all in on lifting. Which one is Jisung?

He wonders if Jisung even knows how much effort it takes to lift those weights or if he’s just doing it to prove something to himself. Chenle almost wants to say something, break the ice, but he holds himself back. For now, he’s just going to watch silently and see what this unexpected newbie is really about. 

He watches as Jisung hesitates for a moment, glancing around like he’s making sure no one’s watching but forgetting the reception desk where Chenle’s been watching all along. Then he slowly heads toward the treadmills. Pfft, classic cardio type then, Chenle thinks. Easy choice. But nope. Just as Chenle thinks he’s going to warm up, Jisung veers off toward the weight racks instead.

Now that’s not what Chenle saw coming.

He blinks twice, caught off guard for a second. Okay, so Jisung’s not as typical as he looks. He leans back in his chair, eyes still tracking Jisung as he moves. Jisung doesn't head for the dumbbells. Instead, he walks straight to the Preacher Curl Machine. He expertly loads the straight bar attachment and slides a few large plates onto the stack, the weight selector pin landing heavily on twenty kilos. Chenle immediately sits up straight, alarm bells ringing. Twenty kilos? That’s not light for someone who looks this shy and lanky. Oh man, he’s not really in the mood to deal with an injured client today. 

Just as he’s about to get up from his well-warmed seat, Jisung settles onto the seat, plants his arms on the preacher pad, and starts bicep curling like it’s no big deal, his form flawless. Oh… okay. False alarm. Baffled, Chenle slowly sinks back in his chair, mouth hanging open in pure astonishment at what he’s seeing with his own eyes. 

No fucking way. That quiet, awkward kid is seriously curling twenty kilos like it’s nothing? He shifts in his chair, wanting to go closer just to watch him better as Jisung keeps the pace steady and controlled, muscles working hard with every movement. Alright, so this is definitely not his first time hitting the gym. Jisung isn’t absolutely some random gym newbie just playing around. This person right here is someone who actually knows what he’s doing and Chenle’s so goddamn impressed. 

Jisung’s arms flex visibly with each curl underneath that loose t-shirt he’s wearing, and Chenle actually wants to yell at him to either take off that goddamn useless t-shirt or invest in some tank tops. That stupid oversized thing is totally getting in the way, covering up the muscle that’s clearly working hard underneath. Chenle’s just curious to see for himself, to convince the part of his brain that still refuses to believe those muscles are actually there. No other reason, really. 

Jisung finishes his first set. Chenle immediately rips his gaze away, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment crawl up his neck. He cannot afford to be caught ogling at a client like a total weirdo. Instead, he instantly pulls a file of blank registration forms closer, pretending to be utterly preoccupied with the paperwork on his desk. There’s not much important paperwork around here, so no one could really judge him for being on his phone almost all the time.

When he glances back, Jisung is already up. He bends down to readjust the selector pin on the machine's weight stack, only to push it right back into the twenty-kilo slot. Naturally, Chenle assumes he’s calling it quits, like maybe the initial weight was too much. Too heavy, maybe. Chenle wouldn’t blame him, twenty kilos on that isolation machine is serious work. Even Jaemin couldn’t handle that intensity for bicep curls past two sets. But then Jisung surprises him again, pulling the pin out and slamming it straight into the heaviest section he can reach. Twenty-five fucking kilos this time.

Chenle’s jaw drops even wider. That’s his third shock of the day. Third. Jisung starts curling again, completely oblivious to the chaos he’s stirring behind the reception desk. How? Just how? He's losing his mind.  

He finds himself leaning forward unconsciously, unable to look away. There’s something magnetic about how Jisung moves, timid but confident, with this shy kind of energy that pulls you in. It’s nothing like something he’s ever seen before. It’s hella amusing. For a moment, Chenle forgets about the slow, boring days and the looping NBA clips playing on his phone. Well, the gym just got a whole lot more interesting.

Jisung finishes his set, wiping sweat from his brow, still unaware of the small audience he’s gathered. Chenle swallows down the urge to say something, maybe comment on his good posture, or his impressive strength. But that’d be weird, right? They’re not friends, and Jisung doesn’t even know Chenle works here. He didn’t even glance at the front desk when he walked in.

In his head, Chenle wonders if he should just stick to cheering silently or maybe come up with some epic, lowkey motivational line like, “Nice guns, dude,” or maybe a playful jab like “Easy there, Hulk Jr”. But nah, he stays quiet, too busy trying not to make a fool of himself as he watches Jisung do his last set. 

He’s practically vibrating in his seat when Jisung moves over to the lat pulldown machine next. God, that’s Chenle’s favorite exercise to watch. Jeno always puts on the best, mouth-watering show in that loose white tank top that barely covers anything. Chenle gets a front-row seat to every flex and contraction when Jeno does lat pulldowns. 

His gaze is transfixed religiously on Jisung’s large (like, really large now that he’s noticed, woah) hand as he grabs the pin and slowly slides it down to add weight after weight. His eyes widen a little more with each plate. Ten kilos, then fifteen, twenty, thirty… until Jisung finally stops the pin at fifty kilos. It’s not the heaviest, Jeno can lift sixty to seventy kilos on his easy days, but for someone like Jisung? He’s at a loss for words.

What the actual fuck? 

How is this emo nerd lifting almost as much as Jeno? How the hell is that even possible? When did that even happen? Chenle’s brain scrambles for answers. He’s been working here for two months and swears he’s never seen Jisung set foot in this place. Not even once. So when, exactly, did Jisung turn into someone who could casually pull fifty kilos like it’s nothing? 

Well… okay. Maybe Chenle was too busy watching Stephen Curry highlights most days to clock every single person walking in. But still. He would’ve remembered this. Someone like Jisung hauling weights like it’s something he does on the regular? There’s no way that wouldn’t have stuck in his memory.

Or maybe Jisung just hits the gym on Chenle’s off days or the hours he’s not working. That would explain a lot. Either way, Chenle’s enjoying this new routine. It’s a welcome change from the usual monotony of his shifts. Less scrolling through basketball reels, more stolen glances at someone who’s strong and attractive—because yeah, Jisung is objectively good-looking even though he’s a little shy nerd, and emo. But Chenle’s always had a thing for shy nerds anyway. So it’s not shocking news, Jisung’s always been that quiet cute guy Chenle just tends to notice sometimes.

And now seeing him like this, lifting weights, focused and surprisingly strong, makes Chenle notice him in a whole new way. Maybe it’s the contrast, or maybe it’s that side of Jisung no one really gets to see. Whatever it is, Chenle can’t help but keep his eyes on Jisung a little longer. 

He doesn’t even notice when Jisung finishes his workout, too caught up to count sets or reps, completely mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and ripple deliciously. With each movement, his oversized t-shirt clings to his curves, soaked with sweat, letting Chenle get a better look at those muscles and appreciate them. It’s the cherry on top when Jisung lifts that useless rag of a shirt to wipe his forehead, flashing Chenle a wickedly untimely abs reveal. 

He nearly chokes, mouth hanging open like he just saw a ghost. Or, well, a very distracting six-pack. He coughs a little, trying to play it cool but failing miserably, then reaches for his water bottle. Nothing like a cold sip to try and tame the wildfire blazing in his guts and shut down the riot in his brain. Because damn, that peek just fucking shattered whatever self-control he was holding onto. 

Alright, Chenle really needs to chill and keep his horny-ass in check because Jisung’s heading right his way. Not directly to him, more like to the changing rooms, but still, right in his path. Fuck. He tries to look busy, fingers fumbling with the clipboard like he’s got urgent paperwork to handle, but his eyes keep sneaking back to Jisung as he slowly makes his way out of the room. Okay, okay, don’t freak out. He’s just going to walk by. No big deal. Act natural. Don’t stare. Don’t drool. For the love of all that’s holy, don’t make it obvious you’re lowkey losing your mind over a guy who probably doesn’t even know you work—

“Oh.” Jisung says, eyes widening a little when they land on Chenle behind the desk. He stops in his tracks, blinking. “Uh, hi, Chenle.”

Fuck. Chenle jumps, literally jumps, in his seat at being noticed. He’s been fake-typing on an empty Google Doc just to look busy, mostly just misspelled versions of the word muscles like mclses and muscels. The whole thing reads like a keyboard smash written mid-nervous breakdown. Pathetic. He slams the laptop shut like it’s classified information, knocking over a pen holder in the process. Shit. 

“Hey! Sorry, I was just... filing.” Whatever that even means. “Didn’t see you.”

Lies, lies. He’s seen every rep, every curl, every tiny shift of that stupid t-shirt. He could probably write a whole thesis on Jisung’s biceps by now if he wasn’t busy pretending to be an employee with actual tasks. Ugh, life.

Jisung just gives him a polite smile in return, and Chenle briefly considers quitting on the spot. Then he tilts his head a little, still looking mildly surprised. Too goddamn adorable. “I didn’t know you work here. I’ve never seen you before.”

Chenle laughs way too quickly, slightly (such an understatement) nervous. “Yeah, same. I didn’t know you came here either. I’m working part-time.”

Jisung nods slowly, shifting his towel on his shoulder. “Ah. That makes sense. I probably come in when you’re not working. I usually hit the gym after late classes or early morning, depending on my schedule. Had to switch things up after the new term messed with my schedule.”

“Right,” Chenle replies, his gaze dropping, totally unintentionally of course, to the silver ring on Jisung’s bottom lip, and he has to swallow hard. “Yeah... That explains it.”

There’s a pause. It’s not awkward, or maybe it is as Chenle tries not to make direct eye contact with Jisung’s collarbone, which is still glistening under the sweat-soaked edge of his shirt, or the lip piercing that catches the overhead light like it’s part of some twisted experiment to see how long Chenle can function before he completely short-circuits. Has that piercing always been this criminally hot or is today just extra cursed? Man, he wishes he could vanish off the face of the earth right this moment. His cheeks are burning so hard, he can practically feel the heat crawling down his neck.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Chenle blurts before he can stop himself. Damn it.

Jisung blinks in surprise. “Oh. Uh… thanks?”

He wants to die. Did he seriously just say that out loud? What the hell was going through his head? Oh, right. Jisung’s massive muscles. Fuck, Jisung is probably thinking what a weirdo Chenle is right now. Chenle’s brain goes into full awkward freeze mode whenever he’s around muscly guys. Like that time he tripped over his own feet trying to sneak a peek at Jeno’s biceps and ended up face-planting into a dumbbell rack. Or when Jaemin caught him staring with actual drool collecting at the corner of his mouth, and Chenle panicked so hard he spilled his water all over the floor. They’re both used to his weird, horniness-fueled brain at this point, so all they do is snicker and move on. But Jisung? God, Jisung has no idea what kind of unhinged disaster Chenle turns into around attractive people. 

And he would very much like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

So the point is, whenever he’s confronted by muscly guys, he clocks out mentally. His mind goes blank, words vanish, leaving only a slack-jawed stare he can’t hide. Muscles have this weird superpower over Chenle. They wipe out any coherent thought and turn him into a total dumbass. How embarrassing, he knows. 

Jisung’s voice cuts through Chenle’s mental disaster. “Hey, you okay?”

Chenle snaps his head up, jolted back to reality. “Yeah, yeah. Totally fine.” He’s pretty sure his face is on fire, and there’s no way Jisung hasn’t noticed the heat radiating off him now. 

Jisung hums, looking slightly amused but mostly confused. “You really didn’t expect me to be strong?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. Oh great, another piercing to get distracted by, just what he needed to fixate on. God, Chenle really really wishes the ground underneath his feet would open up and swallow him whole.

He swallows hard, trying to sound casual as he scrambles to explain that without offending Jisung. “Well, uhm, yeah. You don’t exactly scream ‘gym rat’ at first glance. But clearly, I was wrong.”

Jisung shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and damn, that lip piercing is even more distracting now. His eyes keep bouncing between the piercing on Jisung’s left brow and the one on his bottom lip, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna go cross-eyed at this rate. Jisung’s probably already convinced Chenle’s got some serious issues. If he wasn’t sure before, he definitely is now. “Guess I like to surprise people.”

Chenle wants to tell him he’s doing a damn good job at that, but all that comes out is a nervous laugh. “Yeah, you’re definitely full of surprises. Haha.”

There’s another pause before Jisung clears his throat and says, “Uhm, I should get going. Good luck with the rest of your shift.”

Chenle nods, already missing the pretty distraction. Jisung heads toward the lockers without looking back, and Chenle stays frozen for a second longer, watching him go. He exhales slowly, shakes his head with a grin, and mutters to himself, “Well, that just made today way more interesting.”

Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Chenle looks back down at the forms, ready to survive the rest of his shift, with Jisung’s unexpected presence lingering in the back of his mind. 

It quickly becomes a routine. 

Jisung starts showing up four times a week, almost always around the same time, like clockwork. He usually stumbles into the gym with that quiet hesitancy of someone who still isn’t fully used to being noticed, but it fades the moment he gets into his routine. He’s got those big headphones in like they’re glued there, and he’s always always in those stupid oversized clothes that hide all the best parts Chenle’s slowly and agonizingly losing his mind over. 

He never forgets to greet him now that he knows Chenle works here. A soft “hi” when he walks in, a shy smile and a “good luck” when he leaves. Sometimes they chat briefly (about the freaking weather, upcoming exams, campus stuff), nothing groundbreaking, but it’s enough to keep Chenle looking forward to those short moments. And with every conversation, Jisung gets a little more comfortable opening up to him, no longer looking like he’s ready to bolt the second they start talking, which is pretty solid progress in Chenle’s book considering they weren’t even acquaintances three weeks ago.

Mondays are back day, Chenle figures that out quickly. Lat pulldowns, seated rows, straight-arm pushdowns. All business, zero hesitation. He’s so locked in to notice Chenle’s drooling most of the time. Tuesdays are arms: biceps and triceps. Curl variations, cable pushdowns, all that good stuff. By now Chenle can name every kind of bicep curl Jisung cycles through. Thursdays are legs, apparently. The first time he watched Jisung load up the squat rack, Chenle almost fell out of his chair and dropped his iced coffee. Lastly, Fridays are chest and shoulders, where Chenle has the perfect privilege of watching him bench, sleeves rolled up just enough to drive him absolutely insane.

He pretends not to look, especially now that Jisung knows exactly where he’s sitting, and sometimes steals brief glances at him during his breaks as if to make sure no one is paying attention to him including the receptionist. And of course, Chenle fails every time. To make things worse, Jisung often catches him looking, too. 

At this point, he knows Jisung’s routine better than his own. But who could blame him? He’s just, you know, observing. Like a good receptionist. He’s good at his job. He even times his "cleaning rounds" with Jisung’s breaks, just to get a good, close-up ogle. Schedules his fake paperwork shuffling for the sets that involve the most flexing. Very professional. Very normal. He’s really smooth with it.

Well, whatever. He doesn’t even try to hide it anymore. Stopped bothering to hide it after Jisung’s fourth or fifth session. 

Whenever Jisung walks in, Chenle finds himself casually glancing over the desk, watching him move through his routine with the focus of someone who clearly knows what they’re doing. It’s become familiar. And it’s comforting in a weird way. Predictable. Like a favorite part of the day you didn’t know you needed until it started happening. Chenle never thought he’d look forward to anyone other than Jeno or Jaemin, but somehow, Jisung has become a surprisingly joyful addition to his routine. 

And sure, maybe Chenle gets a little too excited when Jisung walks in with his big headphones on and hoodie half-zipped, flashing that lip ring like he knows the deathly effect on Chenle. But hey! Everyone needs a little motivation to survive work.

Remember when he used to say his job was simple? Yeah, scratch that, his job is way harder than Haechan’s supermarket chaos or Renjun’s hundred coffee orders a day. At least those two have distractions. Chenle’s got to keep his cool while mentally screaming every time Jisung curls more than he ever thought possible.

Apparently, Renjun doesn’t quite agree with him on that.

Me

helpppp

this job is literally the hardest job in the whole world

i wanna quit

or kms idk

it’s so hard man

Junnie

i swear if you complain about your easy job again 

i’ll fucking come over and kill you myself 

and what’s really hard? 

your job or your dick???

you’re watching jisung lift again right

Me

both.

wait 

how did u know 

Junnie

duh

you only show up to complain when jisung’s lifting because that’s the only way you can scratch that desperate boner of yours

you’re pathetic

Me

shut upppp

i’m stressed, okay? 

the emotional turmoil is real

you have no idea man

your job doesn’t involve supervising sweaty ridiculously attractive men on a daily basis

i’m fighting for my life here

Junnie

oh yeah ‘emotional turmoil’

you’re just horny 

big difference

Me

YOU try clocking in when a walking emo thirst trap decides today’s the day to get me fired

he finally fucking decided to wear a tank top today renjun

and now i’m SUFFERING 

Junnie

and apparently today's the day you finally get institutionalized

Me

i need a priest

or a cold shower

or a lobotomy idk

Junnie

honestly just get a grip

or better yet GET LAID and leave me alone

you literally wrote a poem about his shoulders yesterday

Me

IT’S CALLED APPRECIATION

Junnie

it’s called a BONER

you’re actually gonna get fired 

Me

hey i’m a professional  

i can hide my boner like a champ

Junnie

yeah, a champ at failing spectacularly 

i bet your face is redder than a stop sign every time jisung curls

Me

i’ll have you know my poker face is legendary

Junnie

chenle please.

everyone knows you’re like an open book

you can’t hide shit when you’re horny

Me

you know what? i’m done talking to you

go steam milk or whatever it is you do

Junnie

gladly ♡

at least my job doesn’t involve suppressing thirst in public you hoe

Whatever. Chenle turns off his phone and sets it loudly on the counter, then hissing when it lands harder than he intends. He can’t afford a new phone right now. Especially when he is on the verge of losing his job. Maybe not losing, but more like quitting. Either way, he’s so close to losing it all and doing something that would change the trajectory of both his and Jisung’s life. 

Yes, he’s horny. He’s so goddamn horny and frustrated. He hasn’t gotten laid in months, the classes are eating his ass. And now, just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, his stupid little prayer has to get answered today of all days. When he’s one minor inconvenience away from fully losing it. Sure, he hates those loose tees with a great passion and wishes Jisung would just ditch them for tank tops already, but he never really considered just how much Jisung in a tank top would actually wreck him. He’s regretting all of his life choices now. He just wishes Jisung would bench press him and pound into him like it’s the only workout that matters.

Oh, wow. Okay. Calm the fuck down, Chenle. You’re at work for fuck’s sake. Not the time. And definitely not the place.

“Get your head out of the gutter, man,” He mutters to himself under his breath, shaking his head like that will physically knock the dirty thoughts loose. He tries to distract himself, looks anywhere but the mirror reflection of Jisung’s back muscles—

And immediately regrets it.

Because he’s just seen Jisung. He’s talking with someone, body relaxed like they’ve known each other for years. Chenle squints, trying to get a better look at the other guy and his brain promptly short-circuits. Because it’s Jeno. It’s actually, seriously Lee Jeno. “No fucking way,” he breathes heavily, throat getting dry in an alarmingly rapid pace. 

Jisung and Jeno. Together. In the same frame. Oh. Oh, no. That’s not better. That’s worse. That’s—

“This is a fucking crisis,” Chenle wheezes out. His brain’s too jumbled to function properly. There are too many biceps in one conversation. Too much arm. Too much shoulder. And oh God, too much vein. Jisung’s goddamn lip piercing is sparkling under the fluorescent lights and Jeno’s tank top is barely clinging to one shoulder. This is a goddamn visual overload. His dick cannot handle all of that. He was already struggling earlier, and now this? He won’t be able to survive this day. Nah man.

He should just resign and go live in the woods or something. Away from biceps and temptation and all things sleeveless. Because he deserves to rot in a log cabin with no electricity for being a weak-willed, dick-brained menace who loses composure at the sight of a tank top. He’s so weak, man. So, so weak. And apparently not a functioning member of society anymore. 

He needs to be exiled. Banished. Sent into a rehab built to fix horny people like him with squirrels and pinecones and not a single visible vein for miles. Wait, the idea’s starting to sound kind of nice actually. He’ll build a sad little garden and talk to squirrels like they’re his trauma therapist. Maybe name them after the men who’ve ruined him. “That one’s Jisung,” he’ll mutter as a squirrel scurries past with a nut. “That’s Jeno. That’s Jaemin. And that’s—” 

“You gonna stare harder or should I just grab you a mop?” 

Chenle jumps and lets out an embarrassing startled yelp. He turns to find Jaemin leaning across the counter, sipping his pre workout drink, one brow arched with a shit-eating grin on his silly handsome face. Fucking hell. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“What?” Chenle says alarmingly. His eyes are wide at being caught ogling, and the same hits him like a truck even though it’s definitely not the first time he’s been caught staring unabashedly.

Jaemin nods toward the gym where Jeno and Jisung are still deep in conversation (bless their souls for not noticing the high-pitched yelp Chenle just let out), posing and casually comparing biceps like it’s no big deal. Oh God. “You’re drooling. If you get any thirstier, we’re gonna have to file a safety hazard. Or make you mop the floor yourself.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not—” Chenle splutters in a panic. The deadpan look Jaemin gives him is all it takes. He almost immediately sags in defeat, shoulders slumping, a dramatic scowl forming on his flushed face. “Maybe I glanced once. Twice?” He winces when Jaemin gives him another look. “Okay, fine, a lot. But it’s not like that!”

Jaemin raises an amused eyebrow, his grin only growing. He takes another slow, obnoxious sip from his green colored drink. “Not like what?”

Chenle groans. “I mean, come on. Jeno looks like he bench-presses actual cars, and Jisung’s arms are way too defined for someone who’s supposed to be a total nerd. Anyone would look.”

Jaemin blinks. “Wait.” He sets his drink down on the counter, slowly, as if to make the action even more dramatic. Chenle pauses because what? Why is Jaemin acting like he just unlocked the secrets of the universe or something? “Hold up. You’re drooling over Jisung too?”

Chenle’s face heats up instantly. That’s what Jaemin focused on, really? “I—I didn’t say that,” he stammers, voice a pitch too high. “I said his arms. That's, like, not even the same thing.”

Jaemin cackles. “Oh, sweetie. That’s exactly the same thing.”

Chenle groans again, dragging a hand down his face, but then pauses mid-motion.
“Wait a second. You know Jisung?” 

Jaemin looks at him like duh. “Uh, yeah? We’ve been friends since forever. Why, you know him too?”

Chenle’s eyes narrow. “How do you know him?”

Jaemin shrugs, sipping his shake again like this isn't an absolute plot twist. “Childhood friends. Grew up in the same neighborhood. He used to come over and beat me at Mario Kart.”

Oh, that explains it. If Jaemin and Jisung grew up together, then Jeno probably met him through Jaemin since those two are basically attached at the hip. Now the pieces are falling into place. Of course Jisung knows Jeno. Of course they’re all part of the same cursed little web of hot people with shared history and muscle tone. Jisung, apparently, is out here casually knowing everyone. Childhood besties with Jaemin. Gym buddy with Jeno. Probably friends with the janitor too, who knows.

And here Chenle was, in all his delusional glory, thinking the guy barely had any friends beside Mark. And him, too. Hah. He thought he was part of some exclusive little club called People Park Jisung Talks To Without Being Weird About It™.

Turns out, nope. Jisung’s been out here forming full social connections while Chenle was romanticizing every conversation like a Victorian maiden catching feelings over shared class notes. 

It’s honestly offensive.

He clears his throat, then tries to sound neutral. “Huh. I didn’t expect you guys to be friends.” Because, like, Jisung seems so shy and introverted. Meanwhile Jaemin’s literally the opposite of him. Loud, unfiltered, aggressively extroverted. Chenle can kinda wrap his head around Jisung and Jeno being close as they’ve got a similar quiet vibe. His brain can’t compute Jisung willingly hanging out with someone who once did bicep curls in front of the mirror while winking at himself. Literally himself, not at Chenle. So the image just doesn’t track.

“Didn’t expect you to be friends with him either.” Jaemin deadpans, an intrigued expression splattered on his face.

Chenle shrugs, trying for nonchalant and landing somewhere closer to twitchy instead. Ugh, why is he suddenly nervous? It must be Jaemin-Effect. His stupid big chest and biceps and pearly teeth and beautiful smile and— “We met through class. Sat near each other, talked a bit. Mostly note trading, you know.”

Jaemin hums like that somehow explains nothing and everything at once, nodding at him to continue as if he knows there’s more. How does he know?! “And then I kept seeing him here. At the gym.” He pauses. “Not, like, on purpose—I mean, I work here, obviously. But he comes in a lot. Consistently. It’s kind of inevitable to not see each other.”

The grin on Jaemin’s face is so evil, Chenle can’t decide whether to be scared or turned on.

“So… yeah. That kind of turned into more talking. I guess. He’s chill.”

Jaemin squints. “Right. Chill. Just a guy. With arms. Who you’re absolutely not lowkey obsessed with.”

Chenle lets out an offended gasp. “What are you saying? I’m not obsessed—”

Jaemin cuts him off with a laugh. “Chenle, please. I could hear your heavy breathing all the way from the changing rooms. And trust me, I’m way too familiar with your thirst to not recognize it.”

Chenle’s whole face burns, and he tries to disappear into the nearest wall. “Shut up.” Then he checks the time on his watch and clicks his tongue. “Also, you’re late.”

“And you’re in heat.” Jaemin rolls his eyes, ignoring the fact that Chenle knows his schedules, and leans forward as if to give him a secret, suddenly serious. “Listen, if you need me to put in a good word or, I dunno, coach you on how to actually talk to him, I’m your guy.”

As much as his knee-jerk reaction is to roll his eyes and shut the offer down immediately with a snarky retort, Chenle knows reluctantly that this might actually be his shot. A very embarrassing, probably ill-advised shot... but a shot nonetheless. So after a beat of hesitation, he lets out a dramatic sigh, leaning on the counter. “You’re seriously offering to help?”

Jaemin flashes him a grin, all smug and unbothered. “I mean, someone’s gotta save you from drowning in your own thirst.”

Chenle grunts in mock-annoyance. “Already regretting this.”

“Too late,” Jaemin sing-songs. “You let me in. I’m involved now.”

Ugh. This is life now. Chenle has no idea how this is going to end, but he can only hope it ends up with him exploring Jisung’s big muscles, or like with him against the wall with his legs wrapped around Jisung’s waist. Oh, he’d carry him just fine. He’s so strong, Chenle has no doubt about that. His horny thoughts are interrupted by the long yawn Jaemin lets out. 

He stretches like his job here is done. “Anyway,” he says, grabbing his drink and straightening up. “Time for me to go be social and jacked.”

Chenle tries to maintain a poker face and nods a bit frantically. “Oh, yeah, absolutely. Can’t wait.”

Jaemin only shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “You’re something.” He says before strolling off toward the gym floor like he’s in a slow-mo action movie, flexing his back muscles, fully knowing Chenle’s eyes are still on him.

Chenle slumps into his chair, trying to look like he’s just casually existing and not actively imploding. From his usual spot behind the desk, he watches as Jaemin saunters over to where Jeno and Jisung are still standing, effortlessly sliding into their little quiet bubble. They greet him with those big, bright smiles, eyes crinkling like they’ve just been reunited after years apart. God. They look like golden retrievers, Jeno and Jisung. But like, if the golden retrievers wore gym shorts and were weirdly buffy. 

Jaemin bumps shoulders with Jeno, then ruffles Jisung’s hair with the smugness of someone who’s been doing it for years. Jisung scowls and swats at his hand, but there’s a twitch of a smile pulling at his lips, like he’s secretly glad to see him. He’s so goddamn adorable, Chenle kind of wants to ruffle his hair too. God, when will he finally reach the base level of casually ruffling Jisung’s hair without looking like a total weirdo? He’s actually a tiny bit jealous of Jaemin. 

Jaemin launches into conversation with Jisung, animated and loud, but Chenle can’t catch a single word from this distance. He wishes he could be part of their easy banter. But that would mean actually working out, and nah, he’s perfectly content right here, where the only heavy lifting is dealing with his own chaotic thoughts. It’s a whole damn workout just dealing with being a horny ass all the time anyway. Nobody gets how exhausting that is.

Chenle stiffens when Jaemin glances back over his shoulder and points a finger at him, saying something unintelligible to Jisung. Oh, no. No, no, no. What the actual hell? What did Jaemin say?! Why is this happening already? He didn’t even get to emotionally prepare or reapply his lip balm.

He’s going to fucking kill Jaemin. Jisung’s eyes flick toward him, and panic instantly hits Chenle in full force. He ducks behind the desk and bonks his head with a satisfying loud thwack. Fucking hell. There’s no way they didn’t see what just happened. How embarrassing. He gives himself a couple of seconds to cool down, then chances a peek at the trio again to see if they’ve stopped looking at his way, or hopefully stopped talking about him. But what he sees is a lot worse than them.

Jisung is walking toward him. 

Damn. When he accepted Jaemin’s deal, he didn’t actually expect him to set the plan into motion this soon. God, he didn’t know Jaemin was capable of this level of shamelessness. He’s really going to kill him after this. Right now, he needs to focus on not making himself a fool in front of Jisung. What did Jaemin even tell Jisung? Wait, he doesn’t ever want to find out actually.

Jisung stops a couple feet away, casual but warm, voice soft like he’s genuinely checking in. “Hey,” he greets him. “You good?”

Chenle blinks up at him like he’s just been caught mid-crime. Which, emotionally speaking, he has. But Jisung didn’t need to know. Like, ever. 

“Oh my god,” He blurts out as he thinks of all the stuff Jaemin could possibly say to poor, innocent Jisung. “What did Jaemin tell you?”

Jisung’s brows furrow, thrown for a second. “Huh?”

Chenle’s brain is already short-circuiting, trying to find a way to reverse the sick image Jaemin must have put into Jisung’s brain. “I’m not—Whatever he said, it’s not true. I’m not some thirsty loser pining in secret!” He gestures vaguely at his whole flustered existence like it’d explain. “I’m not in heat.”

Jisung snorts, the laugh catching him off guard. “What?” Then, more gently, “He didn’t say anything like, uhm, that. He just said you’ve been having a long day. I thought I’d come check in.”

Oh.

Chenle short-circuits again, this time from mortification. Great. He managed to embarrass himself all on his own with no help needed. Absolutely fucking great. Jisung will probably never want to speak to him again after this. Chenle wouldn’t definitely blame him. What a fucking weirdo he was being. 

Despite the mortifying deal of spilling his own sins, his breath catches. For a second, the embarrassment fades under the warmth of Jisung’s concern. It’s… kind of sweet, actually. Fuck it, it’s too sweet. Jisung’s surprisingly sweet for someone who looks like he listens to hard rock in the dark. Chenle would eat him up. Anyway.

He tries to play it cool, but the way Jisung looks at him like he genuinely cares makes it impossible. His heart stutters, skipping a beat like it suddenly forgot how to function. He feels like a highschooler who has a crush. “Thanks.” He eventually manages, voice quieter than intended.

Jisung offers a small, reassuring smile. “No problem. You okay now?”

Chenle nods, trying to hide the sudden flutter of feelings beneath a mask of indifference. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

Jisung fidgets slightly and scoots closer to the desk smoothly, shrugging. “Well, if you need to vent or whatever, I’m around.”

Chenle laughs softly, surprised by how much he appreciates the offer. “Yeah, maybe I’ll take you up on that.” He says, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His heart flutters in his chest.

Jisung shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting again. His gaze drops for a second before meeting Chenle’s, warm but a little unsure. He looks like he’s hesitating, and for some reason, that tugs at Chenle’s chest. He thought they were past that stage by now. Past the awkwardness. He’s about to open his mouth to coax Jisung gently into telling what’s on his mind when Jisung finally starts to speak.

“Uhm, actually… do you—would you wanna hang out after your shift tonight?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck as a rosy pink spreads across his cheeks. “We could grab something to eat. I mean, if you’re not too tired or whatever. My treat.”

Chenle’s brain short-circuits for the third time that day. Did he hear that right? Or has he officially entered his delulu era? Because there’s no way this is happening right now. Not in real life. Not in this lighting. Not while he’s still wearing his dumb staff lanyard and hasn’t emotionally recovered from bumping his head two minutes ago.

This has to be a delusion. Maybe the concussion kicked in. Maybe Jaemin slipped something into his water while he was distracted by his pecs for a stupid second. The latter sounds more convincing. Honestly, the latter sounds more convincing. Wouldn’t even be that out of character. Jaemin’s the type to prank someone into falling in love and call it a social experiment.

Or maybe this is a dream. You know, one of those hyper-realistic ones where hot boys ask you out and then you wake up drooling on your arm, confused and emotionally damaged, sulky for the rest of the day.

“You’re asking me to dinner?” He says before his filter kicks in.

Jisung chuckles, a bit sheepish. “Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure.”

Chenle tries to act casual. He really does. But his voice still comes out about half an octave too high. “Yeah! I mean, sure. That sounds… cool. Very cool. I’m down.” He checks his watch. “My shift ends in like an hour. You almost done with your workout?”

Jisung’s cheeks flush a soft pink right in front of him. It’s kind of nice to realize he’s not the only one feeling this way. Though Chenle’s pretty sure his own blush is way worse. Probably bright enough to signal from space. He wonders if Jisung can tell how out of control he actually is right now. Probably not. God, hopefully not. 

Jisung gives him a small nod. “Yeah, just a few sets left.”

Chenle watches him for a moment, his eyes fixed on the adorable blush coloring Jisung’s cheeks, the delicate curve of his small, heart-shaped lips, and the tiny mole just below them. He doesn’t dare let his gaze wander lower, knowing he’d go feral the second it does. This is safe and nice. Usually, Chenle would be mesmerized by muscles the second a guy steps into his view, but right now, he’s content only savoring Jisung as a whole person, inside and out.

“Alright,” He finally says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “See you after.”

Jisung smiles, eyes warm. “Looking forward to it.”

He straightens up, forcing himself to breathe after Jisung leaves. Tonight, he’s going to try. Try what, he doesn’t know exactly. Maybe score a date—Wait, another date because he’s sure they’re going on a date. This is a date, right? Or just friends casually grabbing dinner? Fuck, he has no idea. Maybe he should’ve asked. But this must be a date. Chenle will consider it a date, he doesn’t care. So yeah, he’s going to try. Either to score a second date or get laid. Honestly, whichever comes first is fine. No big deal.

Chenle’s shift finally wraps up after a few shameless oglings, and he hands over the desk to the next employee, who slides into place without missing a beat. The gym’s still humming with late-evening energy, but Chenle feels the weight roll off his shoulders.

Jisung disappeared into the changing rooms like fifteen minutes ago and still hasn’t come out, which well, Chenle’s actually starting to wonder if he’s having second thoughts. Maybe he chickened out. Or maybe he climbed out the window and fled the country after mulling over how much of a weird Chenle was earlier.

Still, there’s a dopey smile splattered across Chenle’s face that he can’t quite shake as he ducks into the staff room to change out of his work uniform and into something slightly more date-appropriate. It’s just sweatpants and a worn-out hoodie he throws on for basically everything, but still better than his ugly work uniform. At least this doesn’t scream “Hi, I clean gym equipment and suffer while having to sit and watch hot guys lift as much as my entire body weight.” 

Thankfully, Jisung’s stumbling out of the changing rooms right when Chenle leaves the staff room, cheeks pink and hair slightly damp at the temples as though he’d been stressing in there. His shirt that he got changed into clings a little awkwardly to his skin, and his expression screams mild panic, but also that’s his usual default so Chenle can’t decide whether to be nervous, too. 

“Sorry,” He blurts it out the second he sees Chenle, yanking his hoodie over his shirt. “The showers were packed, and I didn’t wanna make you wait too long, so I just changed and skipped the shower. Sorry again, I know that’s kinda gross.”

Chenle’s caught off guard by how breathless and sincere he sounds. It’s honestly kind of endearing. But there’s something else that’s taken hold of his brain. Jisung. Didn’t get to shower. Still sweaty. Still dirty. Still very much post-workout Jisung. And now Chenle has to go to dinner with that information rattling around in his head like a curse.

Unfair. Completely unfair.

He wants to say "Gross? Nah, that’s sexy as hell. Like, I’d happily lick the sweat off your skin if you just let me. Clean you all nice". But that’s probably highly inappropriate, so he only says, “Don’t stress about it. We all know how packed those showers get.” Since their gym’s a small, budget-friendly spot near campus, it’s no surprise the showers get packed during peak hours. 

Jisung flashes him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I usually shower at my dorm. But I wanted to at least try to look and smell decent for you.” For our date goes unsaid but Chenle could hear it loud and clear. The subtle confirmation makes his insides warm and giddy. 

“Well, you smell fine to me.” Chenle mutters with a sudden burst of confidence, hoping the flirtation is obvious. “Just saying.” 

Jisung just huffs a shy laugh and leads the way with a polite hand. “Alright, let’s go. I’m kinda starving.”

Chenle can’t help the wide smile that takes over his face as they step out of the gym, brushing past the front desk. He catches Jaemin’s eye on the way out. Jaemin flashes him a smug grin and mouths, “You’re welcome.” Fantastic. He’s surely never gonna let him live this down. He can already hear Jaemin bringing this up in every conversation from now until the end of time, especially if he and Jisung actually become an item. 

God, he really hopes so. He kind of wants to date Park Jisung. He has no idea when these feelings blossomed? What started as a silly crush somehow grew into something much bigger, and now he’s drowning in a flood of emotions he’s barely able to hold back. With a warm heart, he walks side by side with Jisung toward a cozy bibimbap spot—because Jisung ‘needs to get his protein fix’ post-workout—just around the corner from the gym, their voices low as they talk quietly. 

They don’t stop talking even if they sit down and order their food. Jisung asks for a large serving because he’s apparently just as obsessed with hitting his protein goals as Jaemin and Jeno. Chenle cackles and shakes his head when the waiter leaves. “Gym rats and their dedication,” He mutters under his breath, amused but also a little impressed. It’s kind of cute how seriously they take it, even if it means ordering enough food for a small army. Their appetite is unreal. 

Jisung laughs quietly and shrugs. “Well, you can’t slack off if you want results.”

Oh, yeah. Chenle can definitely see the results. They’re on full display, and it’s honestly kind of pretty fucking rude how good he looks. He smirks, feeling mischievous, glancing at Jisung’s arms openly. “Yeah, looks like all that protein’s paying off.”

Jisung’s face heats up at Chenle’s blatant flirt, and his arms flex without meaning to as he lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck. It’s such a familiar little nervous habit and Chenle can’t help but find it painfully adorable every time. It feels almost wild to think that the same emo nerd from his econ class, the one with those impressive biceps and chest and all, gets shy so easily. Chenle wants to kiss him stupid.

His lips twitch into a subtle smile as the thought hits him before he can stop it. “You’re kind of a mystery to people who don’t really know you, you know,” He blurts out. “Like, all tough and intimidating on the outside, but secretly shy and cute underneath.”

Jisung blinks in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “Me? Intimidating?” His voice holds a mix of disbelief and amusement. Chenle smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah, I mean, you always have those massive emo vibes. Headphones on, no smiles, not really talking to anyone. To most people, that’s pretty intimidating.” He pauses and makes a face before admitting, “Not gonna lie, it kinda intimidated me at first too.”

Jisung’s eyes widen in shock, then he lets out a laugh. “You were intimated by me? I thought you were gonna bully me when you first approached me and asked if I even understood what the professor was saying. I thought you were trying to make fun of me or something.”

It’s Chenle’s turn to be shocked and let out a boisterous laughter. “Why would you even think I’d bully you? Do I look like a bully? I just wanted to make some friends!” Once the shock wears off, he grimaces. “And I asked that because I totally did not understand a single thing.”

Jisung shrugs, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know, you just didn’t seem like the type who’d wanna be friends with someone like me.” 

“Well, I guess I wanted to be the one to break through your mysterious wall.” Chenle shrugs, a teasing grin spreading across his lips. “See what’s really behind that quiet act.”

“Then I’m glad you didn’t run away when you saw what’s behind the wall.” Jisung replies with a cheeky smirk, though there’s a hint of sincerity beneath it. “Even though I’m probably kinda boring. I mean, I don’t think there’s anything surprising behind there.”

“Boring?” Chenle echoes, feigning dramatic shock, gasping for good measure. “Don’t be ridiculous. You literally gave me the biggest shock of my life when you showed up in the middle of my boring shift and started lifting like you were about to steal the spotlight from Jeno. And, don’t tell him, but you kinda did by the end. I mean, I did not see that coming. You definitely left a mark.”

Jisung looks downright delighted by the revelation, that smug little smile settling comfortably on his face. Great. Chenle just went and spoon-fed Jisung’s ego while simultaneously exposing his own ass. Was that flirting? Was it too much? Did he just reveal way too much about how much he’s been thinking about this whole thing? Did he throw all subtlety out the window? Damn, why is it so hard to keep his cool around Jisung? Now Jisung probably knows what a perverted weirdo he really is. Just breathe, Chenle. Breathe.

But then Jisung speaks and interrupts his spiraling thoughts. “I didn’t think you were even paying attention.” Then, with a pause, he adds in a whisper that goes straight to Chenle’s groin. “So you were watching me that closely, huh?”

Damn. The timing of their meals feels like a godsend, some cosmic intervention reminding Chenle’s horny ass to calm the fuck down and save those pervy thoughts for later. But fuck it, it’s nearly impossible to focus when Jisung’s right there in front of him, the main guy in all his wildest dreams and fantasies. Every time Jisung leans over to mutter something or tucks his damp hair behind his ear, Chenle’s mind is busy rewriting entire fantasies. Some sickeningly sweet, some downright scandalous. He wonders what Jisung’s skin would feel like under his fingertips, if that shy smile hides a secret wild side on the bed, or if those muscles could wrap around him just right. His thoughts drift without permission, picturing how Jisung’s muscles would feel beneath his hands, the way his breath would hitch when touched just right. Would Jisung stay quiet and shy through it all? Submissive and tender? Or is he the complete opposite behind closed doors?

He gives himself a sharp mental slap, willing those filthy thoughts to scram before they get any worse in a public place. He waits until the waitress finally leaves them alone with their orders before he can manage a reply. “I mean... I had to make sure you weren’t gonna pass out or something. You were lifting a lot.”

Jisung casually pulls out the utensils and places Chenle’s next to his plate. He snorts softly, barely containing a grin that flickers across his lips like he’s just caught a private joke, one that Chenle is only half in on. Or maybe fully in on. “Right. Just doing your job. As a concerned employee.”

Chenle makes an elated noise and agrees with a frantic nod. “Exactly! Very professional of me. Zero personal interest involved.”

Jisung sinks back into his seat with his arms crossed, shooting Chenle a smug, knowing look before he drops a line that’s going to wreck Chenle’s entire nervous system. “Good to know. Because if it were personal, I might’ve started hoping you’d come over and offer a spot.” He huffs a laugh before adding, “And Chenle, trust me your ‘professional’ stare was anything but subtle.”

Chenle can’t see his face but he’s pretty sure his whole face is glowing redder than a ripe tomato right now. So... Jisung’s been totally aware of his not-so-subtle and definitely not-professional staring the whole time? Awesome. And what the hell is going on? Is Park Jisung actually flirting with him? Or is this some prank? Whatever it is, Chenle can’t back down even if he’s burning with pure embarrassment.

“Oh, I would’ve. But then I’d have to admit I was staring. And I have some dignity left.” He replies, grabbing the chopsticks Jisung just set for him to dig into his meal. 

Jisung grins, his lips curving into a cute heart shape. God, he’s so Chenle’s type. “Only some?”

And that’s, like, Chenle’s last straw. He lowers his chopsticks before he can grab a bite, and decides to be bold if this is how Jisung’s playing the game. “Listen, you in a tank top took out like half of it. I’m hanging on by a thread.”

It seems to work on Jisung, his cheeks flush a sweet pink though his grin stays wide and smug. “Well, I’ll try not to be too intimidating then. Can’t have you collapsing on me already.”

Chenle squints his eyes at him. “Keep flexing like that, and I’m definitely not responsible for what comes next.”

Jisung raises a brow, that cocky spark lighting up his eyes. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Maybe a little of both.” Chenle replies nonchalantly, finally taking a bite and chewing slowly before adding, “Depends on how distracting you keep being.”

Jisung lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Only if you stop looking at me like that. It’s making it hard to focus on my sets, you know.” He takes a big bite, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel on a mission, and Chenle swears to God he looks just like one of those squirrels from his imaginary rehab in the woods. The one he was supposed to name Jisung. The one meant to cure him. Instead, here he is, in the flesh, chewing adorably and dragging Chenle deeper into his spiral. Amazing. 

Chenle sighs. “You wish. I’m just appreciating the view, it’s not illegal.”

Jisung leans in, voice soft and extremely dangerous. “Alright. Maybe after this meal, we can go somewhere quieter… where you can appreciate the view a little more.”

Chenle’s heart stutters so hard it might just give out. Jesus Christ. He did not expect Park Jisung to be this kind of bold. Confident. And lethal. What happened to the emo nerd with awkward smiles? Where the hell did he go? He swallows hard, only now realizing how dry his throat has become. He has no idea what to do with this version of Jisung. But God, does he want to find out. “I’m in.”

Jisung gives him a smile, all too innocent, completely at odds with the conversation they just had before diving straight into his meal. He stuffs a ridiculous amount of food into his mouth, cheeks full to brim again, happily munching away as if they didn’t just borderline plan a hook-up two seconds ago. Chenle watches stunned in silence. How the hell can someone flip his entire world sideways and then eat like nothing happened? 

Every day, Jisung finds a new way to catch him off guard. Chenle’s dying to know if that unpredictability translates to the bedroom.

They decide to go to Chenle’s place since he lives alone and it’s more convenient. The bus ride is quiet. They sit side by side, their knees brushing with every bump in the road, neither one pulling away. Jisung is radiating warmth like a sunbeam. Their reflections in the window are all grins they’re trying and absolutely failing to hide. Every so often, one of them sneaks a glance, cheeks tinted pink, just to make sure the other is still there. And that it’s actually happening.

Jisung rests a hand on Chenle’s knee at some point, tentative at first. As if testing. When Chenle doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink, his touch grows sure and remains there like a steady heat. His thumb brushes lightly over the fabric of Chenle’s jeans in a nervous rhythm like he’s trying to ground himself. Or memorize him. Chenle’s too jittery to make sense of it. Too busy pretending his heart isn’t crawling up his throat and trying really hard not to pop a boner in public.

By the time they reach Chenle’s stop, the tension between them is hot and dizzying. Jisung's practically stuck to his side the whole walk back, slinging an arm around his shoulders like he can't stand being apart from him. Chenle’s not complaining. Not one bit. He likes his boys clingy. And muscly. God, those biceps are heavy on his shoulders. He can’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to have his head crushed between them.

His nasty thoughts abruptly come to a stop when they finally reach his door. Oh, man. They’re really here. Inside, there’s a bed. A very real, very available bed. The bed he didn’t even bother to fix before running off to work. And soon enough—God help him—he’s going to be underneath Jisung. Or on top. Honestly, at this point, he’s not really picky. Whatever Jisung gives him, he’ll take it gladly. He’s fine with everything.

As the door clicks shut softly behind them, the air turns even more suffocating. Jisung’s right behind him, not even a full step between them. They both shuffle to take off their shoes in pure awkward silence. Jisung lingers near the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure whether to run or sit or evaporate on the spot. “Uh, uhm, nice place,” He mutters eventually, curious eyes wandering around his tiny and very unorganized place. 

Chenle huffs out a sheepish laugh, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Thanks. Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t exactly expecting… company.”

Jisung’s mouth quirks into a small, crooked smile. “It’s fine. Believe me, mine looks worse.”

A beat passes between them. Neither moves from the doorway, stealing glances at each other not so subtly. Oh God, this is so awkward. Chenle’s never brought a client home to hook up. Well, Jisung’s not technically just a ‘client’, but it’s still awkward. He has no idea how to break the tension and just go for Jisung’s dick.

Then, like two magnets too shy to connect, they both take a hesitant step forward at the same time and nearly collide. Their breath catches in a shared laugh, and Jisung steadies him with both hands at his waist, fingers curling in just enough to send a shiver up Chenle’s spine. He’s so smooth with it, Chenle almost doesn’t register the way Jisung’s hands settle just above his hips. 

Jisung's sweet eyes search his too tenderly for his heart, then he asks, voice low, “Can I finally kiss you now?”

Chenle lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, eyes flicking down to Jisung’s mouth and back. “God, yes. Please. I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Satisfied with his answer, Jisung smirks and that’s the last thing Chenle sees before their mouths crash a second later, all heat and hunger and almost a month’s worth of pent-up tension spilling out at once. Chenle’s breath hitches at the fierce touch of their lips, a moan slipping helplessly into Jisung’s mouth before he can even think to hold it back. Jisung’s grip on his waist tightens instantly at the noise, urging him to make more by sliding his hot tongue in, coaxing. 

It feels surreal to be able to touch Jisung and kiss him. To have full access to the very thing he used to just steal glances. The realization hits like a punch to the chest: he doesn’t have to imagine anymore. He can run his hands over real skin, real muscle—the same ones he used to secretly admire across the room, teeth clenched and thighs pressed together, pretending he wasn’t staring. Now Jisung’s right here, right where he’s always wanted. Warm and solid and maddeningly casual about the fact that his body is the exact type Chenle’s weak for. Broad shoulders, stupid arms, abs he probably doesn’t even realize he’s flexing as Chenle puts a trembling hand on. 

And the worst part is he still feels like he’s dreaming, his brain hasn’t still registered the fact that he scored a date with Jisung and got him right where he dreamed of. Like any second now, he’ll wake up back in that cramped receptionist desk, aching and touch-starved, watching Jisung refill his water bottle like it’s not the hottest thing Chenle’s seen all week.

Jisung kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, with precision, not a single trace of hesitation as he parts his lips and slides his hot tongue in. He kisses like he’s aware of every thought Chenle’s ever had about him before and is now methodically destroying them one by one. Chenle can barely breathe, brain stuttering as he opens his mouth for him, desperate and helpless against him. 

It starts slow. Pressed up against the doorframe, their hoodies brushing, breath catching between kisses. Chenle’s hands fist into the soft cotton at Jisung’s sides, dragging him closer like that’ll help, like proximity can fix whatever the hell is wrong with his pulse right now. But it’s not enough. There’s still a barrier of cloth between his palms and the heat he needs. Too many layers hiding everything he’s aching to touch. 

He wants more. 

So he lets one hand wander, slipping it beneath the hem of Jisung’s hoodie, past the waistband of his jeans where it’s warm and solid. His cold fingertips contrast sharply against that heat, stealing the breath right out of him. Jisung tenses for a moment at the sudden chill, then relaxes into it, kissing him harder now. Chenle’s palm presses flat against Jisung’s stomach, fingers splaying to memorize every ridge and curve by touch alone. God, his abs are rock-hard beneath his cold skin.

Jisung makes a low sound from the back of his throat, a sound that goes straight to Chenle’s knees when he shamelessly and openly feels his abs up. Encouraged, his hand roams higher, gliding over warm skin and taut muscle until his fingers graze the edge of Jisung’s chest. He palms over his pecs, firm and solid beneath his hand, and Jisung shudders, biting down on Chenle’s bottom lip in response. It makes the kiss turn even messier.

Somehow, Chenle finds the strength to tear his mouth away, just enough to breathe and speak. “Take these off,” He nearly begs, saying it with such urgency that Jisung lets out a low chuckle. “Please.” His voice is wrecked and too gone from just a simple kiss and some groping. He’s shaking with the aftermath of their making out, chest heaving like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

“I wanna see you,” He adds, eyes flicking down his body like he can’t stand not having more. His fingers claw at the fabric between them. “Wanna touch you, kiss you everywhere.” The frustration wells up heavy and unbearable in his throat. He feels like crying from how badly he wants it, wants him.

Jisung nods, breathless, pupils blown wide as he scans Chenle’s face like he’s trying to ground himself. His hands linger at the hem of his own hoodie but don’t move yet much to Chenle’s dismay.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, voice low, almost hoarse with want. It sends a shiver down Chenle’s spine, tightening everything inside him. He’s not the only one affected at least. 

He swallows hard, still barely holding it together. “Down the hall. First door.”

Jisung doesn’t wait. He grabs Chenle by the wrist and starts walking quickly, like if he doesn’t move now he might combust on the spot. Chenle follows, stumbling a little, brain still half-melted from the kiss and the weight of Jisung’s voice in his ear.

They barely make it into the room before Jisung is on him again, Chenle hurriedly turning the light on to see him properly. His hoodie is half off, but not completely , and Chenle tugs at it impatiently, lips brushing his jaw. “Off,” he mutters again, more desperate now. “Please—”

Jisung shrugs out of it along with the shirt underneath and throws them somewhere without looking. The dim light spills over his chest, his broad shoulders, skin warm and flushed, a trail of faint sheen catching along his collarbones. His gaze lingers, hungry, reverent. He wets his lips as he imagines all the things he could do later.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re so—” The word never comes. There isn’t one. Nothing captures the way Jisung feels under his hands. He’s already back to moving, mouth dragging over Jisung’s neck, tasting skin and salt, fingers splayed over his ribs.

Jisung lets out a breathy laugh that dies halfway, turning into a sharp inhale when Chenle bites softly at the place beneath his ear. “You said everywhere,” Jisung says, trying to sound cocky but failing under the weight of sensation.

“I meant it,” Chenle breathes against his skin, lips brushing the slope of his neck. “So shut up and let me.”

His hands slide down slowly, palms dragging over the curve of Jisung’s waist, thumbs slipping under the waistband of his jeans. He kisses lower, along the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone, every press wet and lingering, taking his sweet time to savour. Jisung smells so fucking good. Warm, musky, a little salty, and all him. It hits Chenle like a punch to the gut, dizzying in the best way. He nearly scoffs remembering how Jisung had been nervous earlier about smelling sweaty. As if that isn’t exactly what’s driving him wild right now. 

Jisung’s head tilts back, throat exposed, eyes fluttering shut as Chenle trails wet kisses down his neck. His chest rises fast, breaths sharp and uneven. Chenle’s lips ghost over his sternum, then linger over the skin just above his heart. “You’re driving me insane,” Jisung says, voice barely there. His hand slides to Chenle’s waist, gripping firmly, not to steady Chenle, but because he’s just as undone, just as lost in this moment. Chenle can feel the tremble in his hand pressed warmly against waist.

“That’s the point,” Chenle mutters, smirking as he noses along the line of a pec, nipping gently. Jisung makes a low, guttural noise. “I want you out of your mind for me.”

Jisung groans again, this time with his whole body, hips twitching up, his other hand fisting in Chenle’s hair. Chenle doesn’t stop. No, he can’t stop now that he has Jisung. He keeps going. Down his stomach, over each ridge of muscle, biting softly then kissing the sting away, licking him clean. He takes his time, worshipping every inch the way Jisung deserves. And honestly, he doesn’t give a fuck how he looks right now. He couldn’t care less that he probably looks like a desperate weirdo, sniffing and licking him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Chenle finally drops to his knees like gravity finally took over, eyes locked on Jisung’s sweatpants. His fingers tremble just slightly as they hook under the waistband, sliding them down slowly to torture himself a bit. Jisung shifts nervously, cheeks flushed deep red, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. He’s watching him with his breath held. 

Chenle doesn’t hesitate once his sweatpants are out of the way. He buries his face just under the waistband of Jisung’s underwear where Jisung’s scent is strongest. It’s musky, salty, and intoxicating. He inhales sharply, letting the heat flood his senses without an ounce of shame. Jisung’s hips jerk forward almost instinctively, a strangled groan slipping past his lips as Chenle’s cold fingers grip his thighs, steadying himself while his mouth presses closer. “Fuck, Chenle.” He whispers in awe.

His tongue flicks out hesitantly at first, tracing slow, deliberate paths over the soft fabric of Jisung’s underwear, tasting the faint saltiness mixed with the unmistakable slick of Jisung’s arousal. He lets himself explore cautiously, wanting to savor every second of the moment, but also because this is the first time he’s doing something this unhinged. Through the taut material, Chenle can feel the undeniable hardness pressing back, warm and insistent against his tongue’s gentle strokes.

Spurred on by the rising heat between them, he laps more boldly, the fabric growing wet under his touch. His tongue glides over the source of that intoxicating scent, teasing and tasting, looking up to meet Jisung’s unwavering gaze. God, his eyes have gone so dark. “You’re insane.” Jisung mutters, shaking his head as if he can’t believe him. 

Chenle just smiles coyly, continuing to lick him through the fabric, feeling it throb and twitch against his tongue. His underwear is drenched in a mix of his own saliva, Jisung’s precum, and the sweat from when he was working out earlier. He can’t help it, a moan escapes his lips at the heady scent and taste. “Been wanting to do this the entire dinner,” he finally admits, not caring how gross or unhinged it makes him look. Still, heat floods his cheeks. “I’m glad the showers were packed.”

Jisung chuckles lowly, tracing his jaw fondly. “You’re such a mess,” His fingers trail the saliva dripping down his chin, gathering the wetness before slipping his fingers inside Chenle’s mouth without warning. Chenle immediately closes his mouth around the digits and sucks on them all while keeping direct eye contact with him. Jisung visibly shudders at the sight. “A pretty mess. Wanna fuck you so bad.”

Chenle breaks from sucking his fingers, almost spitting them out in an emergency. “Can you fuck me against the wall or something? I need to check something out.”

Jisung laughs loudly this time. “Man, you’re terrible at hiding it. ‘Checking something out,’ huh? Sure, whatever helps you get off.”

Chenle scowls, trying to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks, but lets Jisung pull him to his feet by the hand. “Hey, at least I’m honest about what I want.” He retorts with a shrug, tone daring. 

Jisung’s grin widens as he leans in closer, eyes locking with Chenle’s. “Honesty’s sexy,” He presses a hot kiss at the corner of his lips, fingers curling around Chenle’s hoodie. “But don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you.”

It sends a violent shudder through his whole body. Oh, yes, this is exactly what he’s been desperate to hear. The tension between them spikes even more when Jisung pulls the hoodie off, no more games. But unlike the urgent, needy way Chenle undressed him earlier, Jisung’s touch is slow and careful, almost tender. It’s his turn to press kisses, and being on the receiving end of Jisung’s insistent affection feels… strange. Not like in a bad way, just quite unfamiliar. To be held like this, kissed with something that almost feels like care, throws him off more than he expected. 

He belatedly realizes why it feels so strange, it’s because he wants this. All of it. He wants to be kissed like this, held like this, every damn day. The realization doesn’t dampen the heat building in his chest, it only fuels it. When Jisung’s next stop turns out to be his lips, he kisses back even more fervently, surprising Jisung for a second, yet he’s quick to steady, hands winding around his waist. 

The next thing Chenle knows, Jisung’s backing him toward the bed, and they tumble onto it without breaking the kiss. In one fluid motion, Jisung strips away the last of their underwear, and then they’re grinding against each other. Chenle gasps into Jisung’s mouth, hips jerking up to meet each lazy thrust, every brush of bare skin sending sparks up his spine. Jisung groans low, the noise going straight to Chenle’s groin, buries his face in the crook of Chenle’s neck, then licks a stripe up to his jaw. “Lube and condom?”

Chenle grunts in response, jerking his chin toward the first drawer, too lazy to get them himself. Jisung reaches over to grab what they need, and Chenle watches the muscles in his arm flex up close, mesmerized. “You’re so hot,” He sighs, almost dazed. “Have I ever mentioned that? You’re so fucking hot.”

Jisung glances back with a delighted smile, not cocky. He pops the cap of the lube quietly, eyes bright as they meet Chenle’s. “No,” He says softly, “but I like hearing it.” He moves back between Chenle’s legs, coating his fingers with care. Chenle spreads his leg invitingly and a little too eagerly.

There’s nothing slow about it now, they’ve waited long enough. There’s just need. Desperate, clumsy need. Calloused fingers dig into his hips, lips drag across flushed skin. Chenle can’t stop the moans spilling out of him, shameless and broken, when Jisung finally slips a finger inside before tracing his rim teasingly. From that moment, Chenle’s mind goes blank, reduced to a helpless, blabbering mess as Jisung starts to finger him with a steady rhythm, stroking his throbbing dick at the same time.

He can do nothing but watch, eyes locked on Jisung’s calloused fingers, thicker, and stronger than his own, moving with confident ease. His hands clutch the sheets helplessly, knuckles white, heart pounding so loud he’s sure Jisung can hear it. He’s leaking profoundly into Jisung’s hand, the sound of it so obscene between their ragged breaths, filling the quiet room. Jisung’s touch doesn’t falter, fingers curling inside him until they press against his most sensitive spot. A sharp moan tears free out of his chest. 

“S-Stop,” He manages to croak out. “That’s enough. Fuck me now. Please. Need you.”

Jisung obeys and slowly pulls his fingers out. Chenle, with his legs shaky, somehow manages to straighten out on the bed, hands trembling as he reaches for the condom and begins to roll it on. He can’t help but stroke him a few times just to itch that need in him, feeling the weight of his cock in his grip. “Come here,” Jisung says with such confidence, Chenle’s body obeys without question.

His large hands settle firmly on his ass, lifting him effortlessly without even a grunt. In one smooth motion, Chenle’s airborne, weightless in Jisung’s hold. A blissful sigh leaves his lips, gaze awestruck, and Jisung catches it with a knowing smirk. He winds his arms around Jisung’s neck to balance himself, feeling his erection straining against his entrance, intruding in the most welcoming way. Jisung wastes no time then, sliding his thick length inside Chenle. 

His hands stay firm on Chenle’s hips as he presses him against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to their burning skin. He feels every inch of Jisung’s cock glide deep inside him, dragging through his walls until it’s nestled inside perfectly. Jisung holds him there for a moment, giving Chenle all the time to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, you’re big,” He wheezes, nails digging into Jisung’s shoulders. He feels like coming from just this. Jisung doesn’t even have to move. He could stay still, and Chenle would combust in seconds from the sheer heat and pressure, and maybe from just being held against the wall. Fuck, he’s really a mess. 

“Tell me if it hurts.” Jisung says, squeezing his hips gently.

“It’s just—” He whimpers, trying to shift in Jisung’s hold, unintentionally driving him deeper. “I need a minute.” 

Jisung doesn’t rush him. Instead, he leans in, pressing gentle kisses across his forehead and cheeks. Undeniably fond distractions that draw Chenle’s focus away from the overwhelming fullness for a moment. Slowly, Chenle’s tense muscles begin to loosen, breath evening out as he relaxes against Jisung’s strong body. The lingering fear of being dropped fades, replaced by a quiet trust he hadn’t realized he was craving.

He gives a small nod, and Jisung finally moves like he’s been waiting for this signal since forever. He shifts his stance first, grounding his feet as he holds Chenle securely against the wall, arms wrapped firm around his thighs to accommodate his weight. It’s not the heaviest Jisung has lifted, Chenle knows. So he has no doubt about him carrying his weight and fucking him simultaneously.

The first thrust is slow, agonizingly so, his hips rolling forward with deep, unhurried pressure. It drags a strangled, broken sound from Chenle’s throat, something between a gasp and a moan, his head tipping back to rest against the wall behind him. Jisung pulls back just a few inches, then pushes in again, trying to find a rhythm. Every time he slides in and out, Chenle’s breath stutters. It’s hard not to feel every inch, every stretch and the goddamn source of heat filling him. 

He’s not sure if it feels this good because it’s been a while, or if it’s just Jisung. Just Jisung, in all his frustrating, devastating entirety. It’s probably the latter. It has to be the latter. It certainly has to do with Jisung and his stupidly massive, taut muscles, the thick length of his cock, and the way he knows exactly how to use it. And maybe a little bit with his tender gaze, somehow gentle even in a moment like this. And also surely with the sweet smile he gives him, like watching Chenle fall apart is the loveliest thing he’s ever seen.

Chenle clings to him like a cat, arms locked tight around his neck, breath shuddering as Jisung fills him so deep, so good, it knocks the thoughts clean from his head. He drags him into a kiss, greedy and unrelenting, still craving for more even when all Jisung does is give and give. It still doesn’t feel real. He still wants more. More heat, more closeness, more of Jisung everywhere, inside and out. All of him. 

It’s a strange, consuming kind of need, nothing like anything he’s felt before. Not lust or a simple want. It’s deeper, heavier than anything he’s undergone. God, he’s never craved someone, or even something like this. Not to the point he feels in his bones. And even with every fantasy bleeding into reality, it’s still not enough. Won’t ever be enough. Chenle knows it. This hunger won’t end when it’s over. He’ll still want more like a greedy bitch. Because now that he’s had this, had him, he’s not sure he can stop. He doesn’t think he wants to, either.

“So good to me, Jisungie,” He breathes out when they pull apart, clutching Jisung’s shoulders like a lifeline. His vision swims, colors blurring at the edges as his body rocks vigorously in Jisung’s lap every time he fucks up into him. God, he’s nothing but a helpless, boneless ragdoll in Jisung’s arms. He’s kind of pathetic, Renjun was right all along. Only kind of, though. And for Jisung. All because of Jisung.

Jisung grunts, reveling in the way Chenle’s falling apart before him. A smug expression spreads across his face. “Look at you,” he pants against his lips. “Taking me so well.”

Chenle sobs after a particular deep thrust, almost feeling Jisung at the pit of his belly. He curses under his breath, trying to meet Jisung’s thrusts as a rush of heat waves over him. Jisung’s muscles keep flexing under his touch, and he doesn’t know what to focus on anymore. It’s too hard to keep up with everything. All he knows is it feels good. Immensely good he could pass out any second now. 

“Bed,” He manages to murmur. “Take me to bed.” Because there’s still a tiny part of his brain functioning, he doesn’t want to wear Jisung out. He’s not that selfish enough. He still needs Jisung intact after they’re done.

Jisung doesn’t argue or protest. He just shoves Chenle down onto the bed, still buried deep inside him, their sweaty bodies colliding with a different kind of urgency now. Chenle’s legs remain wrapped around his waist, keeping Jisung close right between his legs. Jisung leans down to capture his lips in a kiss that’s all spit, teeth, and tongues clashing. Chenle’s legs tighten around him, dragging him closer until there’s no space left to breathe.

Jisung’s grip is borderline bruising, but he loves it. His hands slide up, fingers digging into his waist like he’s trying to leave marks. Oh, Chenle would love to carry them around. “So damn small…” Jisung exhales, pinning him against the mattress by his waist. “I can hold you with one hand.”

Chenle gasps, eyes rolling back when Jisung rolls his hips again, his skin burning where Jisung’s palm presses. He can no longer speak or piece together a single thought. The part of his brain that makes sense of anything has completely shut down. All that’s left are frantic hands clutching tighter and a jumble of messy, desperate whimpers spilling uncontrollably. He must look so stupid beneath him.

“You like being ruined like this?” Jisung rasps against his lips, nipping his swollen lip with his teeth hungrily. His hand curls around Chenle’s jaw, thumb smearing across his spit-slick bottom lip that he just nipped. “Fucking trembling and drooling for it.”

It’s overwhelming. Too much and not enough at the same time. Jisung’s dirty-talk does not help, either. He’s teetering on the edge. So close to coming undone beneath the weight of Jisung’s flushed broad body. He’s trembling like Jisung just stated oh so filthily, biting down on his swollen lip to keep the screams from waking the poor neighbors, eyes blown wide as Jisung plunges in and out even deeper, all tangled up, both dripping with sweat. His thighs have gone limp around Jisung’s waist, and they finally give away after a particular hard thrust that has him gasping and arching his back.

“I’m close,” He mutters, somewhat finding the ability to speak after what’s been like forever, though his brain’s still all mushed. His only thoughts are Jisung. Cock. Jisung’s cock, which is basically the same thing, so yeah. That’s all he can think about, or manage to say like a desperate mantra stuck on repeat right now. Jisung’s whispering some filthy stuff, but he’s too gone to hear nothing but static noise as he feels the familiar clenching feeling in the pit of his belly. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Jisung murmurs into his ear, breathy. The ruined tone in his voice drives Chenle even closer to the edge. “Come on, baby. Cum for me. You deserve it.” And Jisung’s large hand on his dick is the final nail in the coffin. One stroke, two strokes and Chenle’s coming hard with a cry, thick strings of white spurting into Jisung’s hand. Jisung continues to jerk him off through it until he starts whining from the overstimulation. 

A tender, soft kiss brushes his temple when he's done, leaving Chenle momentarily stunned. Jisung nuzzles into his neck, planting sweet, gentle kisses—a stark, almost shocking contrast to the fierce way he’d been fucking him only seconds ago. “You did well,” He says as if to soothe him, hips stilling inside. When he moves to pull out of him, Chenle stops him, guiding his back firmly against his chest. “Stay. You can keep going. Want you to come inside.”

Jisung groans above him, bracing himself with both palms planted on either side of Chenle’s head to keep from collapsing onto him. God, Chenle’s so close to living his dream of being crushed between Jisung’s biceps. Like. Just a little slip. One wobble. That’s all it would take. 

“Crush me. I dare you.” Oh. That came out loud. Damn.

Jisung pauses right before he was about to resume fucking, and huffs out a laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe him. “You’re so weird.”

Ugh, he knows. 

“And you’re so hot,” Chenle fires back without missing a beat, fingers curling into the sheets as Jisung starts to thrust again, chasing his own release. “Tragic, really.”

Jisung laughs again, breathless and a bit frazzled this time, and dips just enough for their noses to brush. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably,” Chenle replies, shrugging his shoulders. “But if I die like this, just know I died happy.”

“Shut up.”

“No. Not until you—” But Jisung kisses him before he can finish the sentence, swallowing the rest of his nonsense with a grin against his mouth. Chenle kisses him back almost immediately, winding his arms around his neck lazily as he urges Jisung to come by pushing his hips into him despite the overstimulation. Jisung delivers one last thrust and spills inside the condom, rolling his hips slowly as he rides his orgasm, mouth moving sloppily against his. 

When they break apart to catch their breath, Chenle keeps holding Jisung close, letting him melt against his chest. His hand moves gently along his back in the quiet aftermath, rubbing lazy circles, though he can’t help but sneak in a feel of those muscles while he’s at it. They’re right there for him to appreciate, anyway. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.

“So,” Jisung breaks the silence first, lifting himself off him and carefully pulling his limp dick out, then disposes of the used condom. He flops down next to Chenle, rolling onto his side with his head propped up in his hand. He’s got that lazy, post-orgasm smile. Kinda makes him look nerdly hot. Oh, Chenle should’ve told him to wear his glasses. Phew, next time maybe. “Was it how you imagined? Did it fulfill your dreams?”

Chenle’s face heats up though he chuckles to hide it. The audacity of this man to be asking dumb questions like it wasn’t obviously a life-altering, top-tier experience. Easily the best thing that’s happened to Chenle all year, and maybe ever. “Oh, it definitely did. Now I’m just trying to figure out how to make you stick around forever. I’m definitely gonna need a repeat of that.”

Jisung gives him a warm smile that melts his heart, making him go fuzzy. “Forever sounds pretty good…” He replies, then ducks to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “But let’s start with a second date and see where this goes.”

Chenle tries not to nod too frantically, but his excitement must be written all over his face because Jisung chuckles softly at the sight. Without thinking, Chenle scoots closer, curling into Jisung and nuzzling his neck like a kitten. “That works for me,” he murmurs, a content sigh slipping from his lips. It’s the perfect place to lay against. Jisung settles fully onto the bed, wrapping his arms securely around Chenle as their legs naturally tangle together. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

“Oh, I might know the perfect spot for our second date.” Jisung says, a spark of excitement flickering in his voice. Chenle hums to signal he’s listening. “It’s somewhere you’ll be working up a serious sweat…” When it’s put like that, Chenle can’t help but get a little excited, the blood rushing south again. As quickly as the heat rises, it drains away the moment Jisung adds, “What about the gym?”

What the fuck? Hell no!

He jerks his head up, panic kicking in as he’s ready to launch into a list of why this is a terrible idea, then spots the sly grin on Jisung’s face. Oh, this devil. His eyes are gleaming with mischief. “You cunning little devil,” He hits him on the chest playfully. “I don’t do the gym, nah, you’ll never catch me lifting. I’m just here to admire the muscles, my workout’s all in the eyeballs if that counts.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. “Yeah, figured after the fourth time I caught you staring.”

Chenle whines and hides his face in Jisung’s neck where he’s found a safe haven. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. I’m seriously gonna quit my work.”

“But then you’d miss out on seeing me all sweaty and working hard.” Jisung teases him, knowing where to hit.

Chenle freezes. Oh no. “Changed my mind. I’ll work there forever if it means I get to watch you work out regularly.” He pauses to kiss the spot just below his jaw. “Besides, once we start dating, there’ll be plenty more chances to see you naked and sweaty. So, I’m good.”

Jisung hugs him tightly, pressing a soft kiss on top of his head. “Mm, yeah, that’s true.”

A big, stupid smile forms on his face, and he clings to Jisung even tighter. “Good. Because I plan on taking full advantage.”