Archive of Our Own

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Contrary to what might be popular belief, Renjun is a dog person. This is an irrefutable fact. His family had always had dogs growing up, and Renjun had loved all of them, and thus it followed that he’d always thought he would probably end up with one too.

Which is why it’s a surprise, even to himself, that he ends up with a seventeen pound terror of a cat instead.

(Here is how it happens: Renjun is eighteen, and fresh out of high school, and during his first semester freshman year he finds a kitten behind the dumpster by his dorm building. It’s filthy, probably weighs no more than two pounds soaking wet, and Renjun is not a cat person but he is also not heartless, so he takes it inside, gives it a bath in the communal kitchen sinks and ignores the stink-eye from his RA. It scarfs down a pork chop twice its own size — all the dining hall had left at that hour — then pees on his laptop and promptly falls asleep curled up in one of his old t-shirts. Renjun names it Pork Chop, the only name he can come up with befitting such a menace, and resolves to bring it to the animal shelter first thing the next morning.

Four years later, Renjun is no longer in college and he is still not a cat person, but he still has Pork Chop, who is fifteen pounds heavier and now lives up to her name. She is, unfortunately, also still just as much of a menace as she was on that first day.)

And here is the thing that everyone tells you about owning a cat, but you don’t truly understand until you have a little terror of your own: they call the shots.

Pork Chop decides when Renjun wakes up in the morning, when he sleeps at night, when he is allowed to eat meals of his own, when he is to let her out so she can pee in his plants on the balcony (he silently mourns his Fiddle Leaf Fig, it had been dying anyways because Renjun can’t take care of houseplants for shit but he’ll blame it all on the cat urine anyways), and most notably, who he is allowed to bring home. As a rule, Pork Chop hates everyone who is not Renjun — and Renjun thinks maybe sometimes she hates him, too. The one time Renjun had tried to bypass the rules and take someone home anyways, she’d scratched the poor guy on the ankle while they were making out and then shat in his Balenciagas. As it turns out, nothing kills a mood faster than a yowling cat and a pair of ruined $1000 shoes.

He never called Renjun back the next day. Renjun still thinks about this, sometimes, and curses Pork Chop for it. Yukhei had been really hot.

So, instead, he only sleeps with strangers who are willing to offer up their own places for them to fuck, and as long as he’s home by 7 AM the next morning to feed Pork Chop, everyone gets to live with their ankles, shoes, and dignity intact. This is their arrangement. It’s Pork Chop’s world, and Renjun is just living in it.

It all falls apart on a random Tuesday. Renjun is out clubbing with friends, drinking to try and forget that he’s the type of twenty-three year old who goes clubbing with friends on a weekday. There’s a polite tap on his shoulder, and when Renjun turns around he comes face to face with what he can only really describe as a beautiful specimen of a man. Other words come to mind too, but they’re mostly R-rated.

“Hi,” the beautiful specimen of a man says brightly, his tone so cheerful you would guess he and Renjun were long lost friends and not two strangers about to hook up. Or, well, Renjun hopes they’re about to hook up, because the man is being very respectful about coming onto him, but he can also tell he might be subtly checking out his ass. Renjun preens under the attention, and maybe sticks out his ass a little further. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Somewhere in between his third and sixth Tequila Sunrise, he finds out the beautiful man is named Jeno, and he works in IT-or-something-or-other (honestly he wasn’t really listening to that part, Renjun was staring at a very prominent vein in his bicep and wondering if Jeno was strong enough to maybe lift him up against the wall and hold him there, so sue him). Somewhere in between them making out on the dance floor and the alley outside the bar, he finds out Jeno has very nice hands and even nicer lips. His eyes also curve into little crescents whenever he smiles, which is not relevant to the making out so much, but is still something that Renjun finds pretty fucking neat. He’s kind of wasted, but not to the point of being blackout drunk, hopefully, because he wants to remember every moment of this: the thumping of bad EDM music in the background, Jeno’s fingers in his hair, the biting chill of the autumn air, the firm line of Jeno’s body where it’s pressed against his own. It’s easy to get caught up in all of it, and Renjun is weighing the potential risks of getting on his knees right there and possibly getting a citation for indecent exposure when Jeno suddenly pulls away.

“So… should we go to your place?” he asks, while Renjun’s hand is halfway up his shirt.

Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes god yes please, Renjun immediately thinks, and his eagerness probably shows on his face too, because Jeno looks almost amused. For a beautiful, blessed moment, he forgets he’s currently cohabiting with a four-legged demon spawn.

“Or…Actually, how about yours?” Renjun tries instead.

Jeno looks at him with uncertainty. “I have three housemates,” he grimaces. “I share a room with one. We wouldn’t exactly have…. privacy.”

Three housemates. The last time Renjun had three housemates, he was a sophomore in college, and they all somehow managed to make it work so frankly that’s not really a problem for him, but it sounds like it is for Jeno, and he is not about to pass up this maybe-once-in-a-lifetime-chance. Taking Jeno home is a risk, but Renjun is all about risks, baby, that’s why when he bought his iPhone he’d only opted for AppleCare+ instead of AppleCare+ with Theft and Loss. “I mean, I guess my place is fine. I have to warn you, though, my cat is a bit. Um. Demonic.”

“Oh, I love cats,” Jeno says cheerily, like he hasn’t just pushed his thigh between Renjun’s legs where he’s already started to chub up a little. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

It is in fact, not fine, but not for the reasons Renjun imagined.

Twenty minutes and one very inappropriate Uber ride later, they’re in Renjun’s apartment — Renjun takes a minute to mourn his pristine Uber rating, which may not ever recover after the way they’d made out in the backseat of some poor guy’s Toyota Corolla, unable to keep their hands off each other. To his absolute shock, Pork Chop is rubbing against Jeno’ legs, purring, like actually purring. Renjun can’t even remember the last time she’d been so affectionate with him without the promise of treats.

He should be happy, probably, that she’s not attempting to maul Jeno. Instead, he feels the vague pang of betrayal as Jeno leans down to fawn all over her and scritch her underneath the chin. He can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, but that might have something to do with the way the loose opening of Jeno’s muscle tee hangs low under his arm when he bends over, exposing a flash of his obscenely toned pecs, and the ripple of muscles over the side of his ribcage that Renjun does not know the name for, because they do not exist on his own body.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he coos, and Renjun staunchly reminds himself it is not reasonable to be jealous of a cat. “This is the ‘hellspawn demon’ you were talking about?”

“Yes,” Renjun manages, staring slack-jawed as his cat rolls over on her side to coax Jeno into petting her on her stomach. “Well, her government name is Pork Chop, I guess, but I usually just call her hellspawn demon. Not that she ever responds to her name.” He pauses, watches as she curls her tail around Jeno’s ankle. “She’s not normally… like this.”

Jeno obediently rubs her very-hefty tummy, and even comes away with his hand intact, which is an impressive feat in itself. Renjun only earned the privilege to pet her there after two years of feeding her, and sometimes he still gets a claw to the hand for his troubles. “I guess it’s pretty lucky that she likes me, then.”

Like is an understatement. Pork Chop barely likes Renjun, and he’s fed her three times a day for the last four years. It is, in fact, very possible that she is going to try and escape out the door with Jeno when he leaves later tonight. Or tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow.

Jeno’s nose scrunches up, all of a sudden, and he sneezes in what would be a very unsexy way except Renjun is very horny, so he just passes him a kleenex instead. “Are you allergic? To cats?”

“Very!” Jeno says brightly, still stroking Pork Chop as she pushes her little head into his hand for more pets. “But don’t worry, I’m used to it, I have three cats of my own at home.”

Owning one cat, let alone three, seems like a very bad idea for someone who is allergic to them. Renjun is about to say as much when Jeno rises back up to his full height, then turns around and kisses him until he’s dizzy with arousal. Then, suddenly, his hands are on Renjun’s thighs, then hooked over the back of his knees and he lifts, picking him up like he weighs nothing and ignoring Renjun’s yelp of surprise as his legs wind around his waist for support.

“So,” he says casually, while Renjun tries to catch his breath. “Bedroom?”

So Renjun finds out Jeno is good in bed. Fucking great, actually, with his toned body (seriously, he has muscles in places Renjun did not know it was possible to have muscles, and he is not afraid to put them to use) and eager-to-please nature and talented tongue. So it’s easy for Renjun to forget about the whole Pork Chop problem when he’s just been dicked down within an inch of his life. He’s contemplating whether he has the strength to go another round — he’s not twenty anymore, okay, his stamina’s deteriorated since then, but maybe if he just laid there — when Jeno speaks up.

“So… did you adopt Pork Chop from a shelter?” he asks. If this is his best attempt at pillow talk, it’s pretty dismal, except when Renjun looks up at him from where he’s been laying his head on his chest, he’s shocked to find Jeno looks genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

“Please don’t talk about my cat when I’m sucking your dick,” he begs.

“Huh?” Jeno says, confused. “But you’re not s—”

Renjun leans over and swallows his dick down in five seconds flat, doesn’t even flinch when Jeno lets out a startled moan, hips jerking up into the wet heat of his mouth on instinct. At the sudden sound, Pork Chop startles from where she’d been sulking in his doorway from the lack of attention, and scurries away.

Ha, Renjun thinks, deliriously, and presses forward til Jeno’s cock hits the back of his throat. Renjun: 1. Pork Chop: 0.

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They fall into a routine: a couple of times a week, Jeno will text Renjun, or Renjun will text Jeno (it’s usually the other way around). Jeno will show up to Renjun’s apartment, sometimes with dinner, and always with a treat for Pork Chop. He’ll pet her for a couple of minutes, and then he’ll get up and get down to whatever filthy, depraved business he and Renjun have planned for the night. Pork Chop always yowls and screams and fusses in a very disruptive way when Jeno tries to leave, even if he ends up spending the night and most of the next morning, and Jeno just picks her up, kisses her on her demonic little forehead and promises to bring more treats on his next visit while Renjun watches with a vague sense of dread that he can’t exactly put a name to. Rinse. Repeat.

“I don’t see the problem here,” Donghyuck says over brunch, like the idiot he is. “You’re upset that your hellspawn cat doesn’t try to gouge your fuckbuddy’s eyes out every time he comes over?”

Renjun stabs a spoon into his oatmeal more violently than is strictly necessary. Fuck. He doesn’t even like oatmeal, he has no clue why he ordered this, stupid Jeno and his whole health conscious diet shit rubbing off on him, he’s even started keeping protein powder at Renjun’s apartment. And something called flaxseed milk, too, which Renjun didn’t even know was a thing until Jeno made him the most god-awful latte on earth with it? Stupid Jeno, and his stupid pretty face and his stupid nice dick and his stupid affection for cats. Speaking of which.

“No,” he hisses. “The problem is that my stupid cat likes him so much and he is so nice to her and it’s somehow making me like him too. Like, a lot. For more than just his dick. Which, for the record, is—”

“Didn’t ask.” Donghyuck cuts him off swiftly. Bastard. “I know too much about your sex life already.” And okay, that’s just rich considering Renjun put up with him complaining about attending Bible study twice a week for a whole year just to get into Mark Lee’s pants. “I don’t want to know anything about this guy’s dick. In fact, the less I know about him in general the better. I don’t even want to know his name.”

“But the other day, he even brought over benadryl so he could pet my cat. Allergy medicine, Donghyuck. Can you believe Je—”

“I said I don’t even want to know his name, Renjun, what part of that did you not understand?” Donghyuck says shrilly.

“Okay. Okay. Fine. But you see how this is a problem, right?” Renjun whines. “It’s sick. I can’t stop thinking about him, and not in the fun, sexy way either. He makes me feel ill.”

Donghyuck’s entire face sours. “What you’re describing is called having feelings, Renjun, I know you’ve never experienced that in your life, but if you’re going to keep up this whole pretending to be a human thing, you’ll have to learn to fake it at least.”

“Jeno’s dick is so big he needs to use four fingers to prep me.” he says, smiling pleasantly. Donghyuck gags into his napkin.

“You,” Donghyuck starts once he’s managed to stop choking on air. “Are terrible. Just awful. Really, truly dreadful.”

Renjun’s about to reply, but his phone buzzes with a notification so he settles for throwing up a middle finger at him instead.

“I have to go,” he tells Donghyuck abruptly.

“What? Was that him? Are you really ditching me to go get laid right now?” Donghyuck asks, and duh, of course that’s what Renjun is doing. “I hate gay people. So much.”

“Donghyuck, you’re gay too.” Renjun rolls his eyes, and reaches into his wallet to toss some money onto the table, his bowl of oatmeal left untouched except for the aforementioned spoon-stabbing. “Keep the change.”

Donghyuck squints at the crumpled bills Renjun’s thrown in front of him. “This is three dollars, Renjun, that’s not even enough to cover the tip.”

Renjun shrugs. “You’re the sellout who took a corporate job right after we graduated, and I’m just a starving grad student. You’ll figure it out. Just Venmo request me or something. Love you. Bye!”

“Fine,” Donghyuck grumbles. “You’re the worst. Love you too, traitor.”

He figures by the time Donghyuck figures out Renjun’s had him blocked on Venmo for a solid two months, he’ll already be halfway home.

🐱🐱🐱

“Who’s a good girl,” Jeno is saying, cooing in Pork Chop’s face, when Renjun opens the door. He’s curled up on the couch with her sprawled out on his chest, purring up a storm. It’s a sickeningly cute sight. Again, Renjun feels physically ill. “That’s right, you’re a good girl.”

“Excuse me,” Renjun says loudly.

Jeno’s head jerks up, like he wasn’t expecting him to be there. “Oh,” he says, sheepish. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon?”

Renjun squints at him. “This is my apartment, you know that right?”

“Of course I do!” Jeno sits up, effectively displacing a very displeased looking Pork Chop, opens his arms, and Renjun begrudgingly steps into his hold. Jeno’s stupid-nice-stupid-big hands come to rest at his waist, and okay, it’s a little bit embarrassing how that’s pretty much all it takes to get Renjun ready to go. “How was your meeting with your advisor? What’d he say about your thesis?”

“Are you trying to kill my boner?” Renjun asks. Thinking about his thesis is pretty much the last thing he wants to do right now. In fact, there are several other things he can name that he would rather be doing right now, and they are all Jeno-related.

“No! We just haven’t seen each other in a couple days, I wanted to know how things were going with you?” Jeno pauses, suddenly looking more eager-puppy-like than usual. “Wait, you have a boner already?”

“...He thinks looking at the collapse of U.S. financial hegemony in the global market as a result of the 2007 financial crisis through the lens of commercial liberalism is too broad.” Renjun specifically Does Not Address the boner issue. “But commercial liberalism is already a narrower lens than just using liberalism as a paradigm, so I have no clue what he wants.”

Jeno nods sagely. “I see,” he says. “I voted for Obama in 2012.”

“What? No you didn’t. We were like, thirteen years old?” If Renjun has to pause to count back the years on his fingers, that’s no one’s business but his own.

“Okay, fine, I didn’t, unless you count the fake election we did at our middle school to teach us about democracy.” Renjun doesn’t, but only because it sounds like Jeno’s middle school did not account for the Electoral College, and American democracy is a nightmare. “I just wanted to impress you!”

And that really confuses the hell out of Renjun. “Jeno, I’m like, five seconds away from trying to crawl all over your dick. You really don’t have to impress me.” And then, because Renjun’s inflicted with a terrible case of smartass disease: “And that doesn’t even have anything to do with what I was saying anyways, liberalism in politics is different from liberalism in international relations theory, why’d you even ask if you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Uh, I dunno, because I care about you? And that includes caring about your thesis, even if I don’t know a single thing about international relations theory?” Jeno says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Renjun thinks he feels his chest squeezing, and oh god, is Donghyuck right, is he experiencing an emotion? “Also, I think it’s sexy when you sound all smart, can we kiss yet?”

“Yeah, okay, I mean, I guess,” Renjun replies, like he’s doing Jeno a very big favor. Like he hasn’t been thinking about kissing Jeno silly since the minute he found him cuddling with his demon-cat-hellspawn when he walked through the door. “C’mon, puppy, kiss me.”

Jeno full-on whines and drags Renjun down into his lap until he’s half-straddling him, leans up to kiss him all wet and messy and more teeth and tongue than anything else. He is not a graceful kisser when he’s eager, Renjun’s learned, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less enjoyable. He noses under his jaw, kisses open-mouthed down the side of Renjun’s throat until he’s squirming.

“Easy, now,” Renjun laughs and pushes at his shoulders. When he doesn’t budge, firm and unyielding under Renjun’s hands, he grabs a fistful of Jeno’s hair and yanks, pulling him off. “Why’re you in such a rush, couldn’t wait to get your hands on me? Like the nickname that much?” He keeps his fingers curled tight in his hair, if only because he knows how much Jeno enjoys feeling like he’s at Renjun’s mercy.

“Yeah,” Jeno whimpers, breathless, and bucks up against him where his other hand’s already moved down to palm over his cock, just the slightest touch. “Needed to see you, Renjun, c’mon, please—” He tips forward to press his face into Renjun’s shoulder, pushing Renjun’s shirt up just to get his hands on bare skin.

It’s endearing, really, and a bit of an ego boost if Renjun’s being honest. His arousal is visible through the dark denim of his jeans so he digs his palm into his dick, watches the way Jeno’s face twists into something needy and desperate and wanting. “So needy already?” he asks, mouthing over Jeno’s shoulder.

“Renjun,” Jeno huffs, squirming underneath him. “Touch me? Please?”

“I already am,” Renjun says smugly. Jeno’s dick is pulsing against his touch and all he can think is god I can’t wait to get this in me.

Jeno bites at his shoulder, not hard enough to bruise (Renjun wishes he would, though) but enough to make him yelp a little bit and squeeze tighter. “You’re so mean, you know that’s not what I meant,” he mumbles, chasing any bit of friction he can get between his own jeans and the palm of Renjun’s hand. He moves a hand from Renjun’s waist to his ass, squeezing tight and drawing him in until they’re pressed flush together.

“Sorry, puppy, you know I just think it’s cute when you get all worked up,” Renjun says, and unwrenches Jeno’s hand from his body so he can slide off his lap, sink to his knees in front of him. As fun as it is to tease Jeno, he’s getting a bit impatient himself, too. “Want me to help you with this?”

“Please,” Jeno manages, curling a hand loosely at the nape of Renjun’s neck — not guiding him, just a grounding weight. He makes a truly incomprehensible noise when Renjun undoes the fly of his jeans with his teeth. “Jesus, Renjun, where’d you learn that?”

“I have my sources,” Renjun says, going for a sexy-and-mysterious vibe. The truth is he’d seen it a couple of times in porn, thought it was hot, and practiced on a pair of his own jeans until he could do it with at least a ninety-eight-percent success rate, but, well, Jeno doesn’t have to know that. Hands pressing down insistently on his hips, Renjun mouths wetly at the swell of his cock. The fabric dampens underneath his tongue, and Jeno’s trembling trying to keep still, because he knows Renjun will tell him off if he tries to rush him.

He taps once at Jeno’s side, and he raises his hips obediently so Renjun can slide his jeans and his underwear down in one go. Good. He’s so good, he always is, and Renjun tells him as much, whispers words of praise to see how it makes his cheeks flush and his eyes flutter. It’s funny, really, how Renjun is about to put his dick in his mouth and yet it’s calling him a good boy that’s getting him all riled up. Maintaining eye contact, he drags the flat of his tongue up his length, watching as Jeno shivers, then swipes his tongue over the slit to collect the precum gathering there.

Jeno moans, loud and keening, physically shaking with the effort of trying not to let his hips rise up and into the velvet warmth of Renjun’s mouth. His hands dig into the couch cushions, fingers curling and uncurling like he’s not sure what to do with them, and taking pity on him, Renjun drags one of Jeno's hands down to his hair.

Renjun can’t exactly talk with a mouthful of cock but he looks up at him meaningfully, and Jeno seems to get the hint, because he tangles his fingers into Renjun’s dark locks, eases himself between Renjun’s lips, careful and slow. He hears him whisper a barely-audible fuck as his cock nudges the back of his throat, and Renjun savors the sound of it, swallows him down greedily in response. The first roll of his hips up is controlled, hesitant, and it’s only when Renjun squeezes at his thigh encouragingly that he starts fucking up into his mouth steadily, tugging Renjun’s head forward onto his cock just the slightest bit. Renjun follows, taking the length of Jeno's dick and sucking eagerly even as saliva runs down the corner of his chin.

“Fuck,” Jeno says again, louder, and traces the outline of his cock where it pushes into Renjun’s cheek. His other hand pushes Renjun’s bangs back where they’ve been falling into his eyes, obscuring his vision. It’s a strangely tender thing to do, right now. Renjun wants him to take him apart. His jaw is starting to get sore from the stretch, but Renjun is not a quitter and part of him enjoys this, knowing that tomorrow his voice will be hoarse and he won’t be able to open his mouth without feeling the phantom ache of Jeno’s dick in his mouth.

It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of it, the controlled inhale and exhale of air filling and leaving his lungs as he moves his head up and down, the stuttering of Jeno’s hips when he pushes down further and further each time. He looks so good like this, his bottom lip swollen from where he’s been chewing on it to try and contain the worst of his noises, head thrown back against Renjun’s shitty second hand couch. Jeno tugs him off his cock abruptly, and Renjun makes an offended noise, looks up at him with the most displeased expression he can muster.

“I’m close,” Jeno says, through gritted teeth, like that’s an explanation.

Renjun wraps a hand around his cock. “Then come,” he says, a command and permission all at once, and almost immediately Jeno bucks his hips up once, twice, then spills into his hand with a groan, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Good boy,” Renjun praises him, just to watch him blush. Jeno’s looking down at him in awe, like he’s hung the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky, and Renjun, without looking away, licks a stripe up his palm, eating Jeno’s come out of his own hand.

“grawrgwrgghh,” Jeno wheezes, or something to that effect, and then he’s hauling Renjun up with a single hand until he topples over in his lap, kissing him tongue-first, wet and sloppy. “Renjun, I— please, can you—”

“Use your words, pup,” Renjun gasps into his mouth as Jeno shoves a hand up his shirt, breaks away long enough to peel it over his head before he’s reconnecting their lips. “Tell me what you need, I’ll take care of you, don’t I always?”

“Yes,” Jeno whines, ducking his head down to sink teeth into Renjun’s shoulder. “I want to fuck you, please, can I?”

Renjun hooks a thumb into his own sweatpants, dragging them down and off then kicking them somewhere to the side along with his briefs. “Of course you can,” he says, indulgent. Jeno’s hands squeeze at his thighs, then his ass, then his thighs again, like he can’t decide where to touch. “How do you want me?” He drags the heel of his palm up to stroke Jeno’s cock, slick and messy, and swallows his ensuing whimper with his mouth.

“Like this,” Jeno gasps into his mouth, maneuvering him so that he’s properly straddling his lap instead of just half-splayed across it. “Is that— is that okay?”

“Yes, god, it’s more than okay,” Renjun whines, tugging at Jeno’s shirt until that comes off, too, and he can finally get his hands all over him. “So polite, aren’t you, puppy? Just want me to sit on your cock and use you? Can’t believe you’re hard again already, you want it that bad, huh?” He will staunchly deny having ever said any of this in the morning. Renjun’s not this chatty during sex, usually, but there’s something about having Jeno beneath him like this that’s making his brain go haywire. He rolls his hips down once, then twice, before Jeno’s hands fly up to press into his sides hard enough to bruise (Renjun hopes they do), keeping him still.

Jeno’s cock twitches with interest against Renjun’s hipbone from where it’s been trapped between their bodies. “Renjun,” he breathes, and Renjun thinks his name has never sounded sweeter than when it’s leaving Jeno’s lips like that, laced with desperation. “Please, I need it—”

“I know, baby, I know,” Renjun croons, and dips his head down to press a kiss to the curve of his Adam's apple. “I gotta go get the lube from my room though, first.”

Jeno flushes red. “Actually,” he says, bashful. “I bought some on my way over here.”

“I see,” Renjun replies, now eyeing the plastic bag at the foot of his sofa. The mental imagery of Jeno stopping at a store at fucking-ten-AM to buy lube and nothing else is half-hilarious, half-really-sexy for some reason. “That’s kind of presumptuous, don’t you think? I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I-I wasn’t trying to assume anything, I just noticed the supply was getting low the last time I was here, and—” Jeno pauses. “Wait. Are you joking?”

“God, of course I’m joking, you’re so dumb, it’s so sexy,” Renjun groans, tugging him back in for a kiss. “If you tried to come over here without fucking me I’d be so fucking mad.”

“I come here all the time regardless of whether we end up having sex or n—” Jeno probably would’ve finished his sentence if Renjun didn’t choose that moment to arch all the way back in his lap to grab the bag. And yeah, maybe he’s showing off a little, because it’s a known fact that Jeno’s into how flexible he is, and it’s fun to watch him choke and sputter on his words when Renjun’s thighs tighten around his legs to stay in place.

Renjun lifts himself back up smoothly, dumping the hot pink bottle of lube into Jeno’s lap unceremoniously. “Strawberry flavored?” he asks, reading the bottle incredulously. Jeno flushes even harder, if that’s even possible. “Whatever, just get your fingers in me now.” He pauses, then adds: “Please.”

“I thought it would be fun to try,” Jeno pouts — who pouts in the middle of sex, and why is it so cute??? Inquiring minds (Renjun’s) would like to know. He would ask him directly, except Jeno’s pressing two fingers directly into him already, so whatever part of Renjun’s brain controls non-horny-thoughts-to-speech is unfortunately shut down. Renjun can tell he made a valiant effort at trying to warm the lube, but he still hisses at the temperature difference anyways, not that any of that matters when he’s finally being filled with something at least, even if he needs—

“More,” he moans, perfectly self-aware that he sounds like a brat, and perfectly self-aware that Jeno likes it when he gets like this. Jeno’s fingers, like the rest of him, are fucking huge, probably equivalent to just shy of less than twice the width of one of his own, and his slow, careful movements mean that Renjun can feel every ridge and bump on his fingers drag along his walls, stretching him out.

“Already?” Jeno asks, in disbelief, but slides in another finger anyways, curls them forward in a come-hither motion, so so so close to his prostate but not quite there. Renjun sinks his teeth into one of his pecs, a little rougher than strictly necessary, just because he can. Jeno, beautiful, perfect Jeno, brushes his pinky against Renjun’s entrance and Renjun says yes yes yes please please please, and suddenly there’s a fourth finger sinking into him. Renjun arches his back to fuck himself back on his hand, both too full and not full enough at once, and Jeno leans forward to press a kiss to the hollow of his sternum as he smooths a hand gently over Renjun’s waist, soothing him through the stretch. “So good,” he says, and that should be Renjun’s line, shouldn’t it? “So pretty when you’re like this.”

Renjun tries to laugh, but it comes out less like ha-ha and more like a deranged moan, and in his defense it’s kind of hard to do anything except moan when you’re stuffed full with four fingers. “I’m always pretty,” he huffs, head thrown back.

“Yes, you are,” Jeno agrees, and Renjun lets his head fall to his shoulder with a sigh, placated. It’s only a few more moments before he’s getting impatient though, reaching back to grab Jeno’s wrist and force it back. He tries not to be distracted by the momentary emptiness — within the next two minutes, hopefully, he’ll be stuffed full again, and he has to be patient.

“I’m going to sit on your dick now,” he informs Jeno plainly, and, well, so much for being patient. Not that Jeno has a problem with that, if the way his eyes widen and he starts nodding eagerly is any indication.

Renjun wraps a hand around the base of his dick, lines it up before he bears down with a practiced ease, and — there’s nothing about this part that becomes easier or any less thrilling no matter how many times they do it. His universe is momentarily reduced to Jeno’s ironclad grip on his thighs, the excruciating stretch of his length buried so deep into him he swears it’s pushing all the air out of his lungs.He really hadn’t been lying when he told Donghyuck it takes four fingers to prep him for this. Jeno is shaking, trying not to just cut corners and thrust all the way up into him. Renjun watches appreciatively as the muscles in his stomach clench, then unclench, physical evidence of his self-control. It’s fun, he thinks, having this much power over someone who looks like they could bench press you without breaking a sweat.

He sinks all the way down, sitting flush on Jeno’s lap until his length is fully sheathed inside him, and there’s a flash of white — a Jeno-shaped blur in his vision (tears, he realizes belatedly, Jeno’s dick made him cry, what the hell?) and then he’s coming untouched, crying out so loudly he has to bite down on his own fist or risk getting (another) noise complaint from the neighbors.

“Did you just—” Jeno’s hands tighten around him. “Did you just come? From having me in you?” And what a silly fucking question that is when there’s evidence of Renjun’s release right there on his stupid perfect abs.

“Shut up,” Renjun groans from behind watery lashes, and manages to lift himself once, the muscles of his thighs spasming, before sinking back down. Jeno makes a series of unintelligible noises and Renjun would be amused if he was also not so oversensitive right now, the drag of Jeno’s cock inside him almost too much, like having all his senses flooded at once. He rolls his hips down once, experimentally, just to see whether it’s the good kind of too much or the bad kind, decides it’s the former, and repeats the movement again, then again, picking up a little bit of speed each time.

Jeno drives his hips up with a groan, hands reaching back to land on Renjun’s ass, pulling him forward so he can drive in deeper. He lifts up to meet him every time Renjun drives down, and Renjun’s lungs are burning, each slight movement feeling like it’s punching the air out of him — or he’s just forgetting to breathe, it could be that too. “You feel so good,” he whines, and coming from anyone else Renjun would just roll his eyes, pass it off as an attempt to stroke his ego. Coming from Jeno, he knows he means it, he’s just that affected.

Renjun smooths a hand over his cheek, the other braced on his arm for support (and also to feel up his biceps), clenches down tight and coaxes another moan out of him as his legs tremble. “Come on, puppy, give it to me.”

Jeno’s breath hitches audibly at the nickname and then his hips buck up with so much force it actually bounces Renjun on his dick, and Renjun scrambles to get a better grip on his shoulders as the couch knocks against the wall. He mentally says goodbye to his security deposit. Some things, though, are necessary sacrifices.

“Jeno, I can’t,” Renjun whimpers, his thighs burning and his legs fully about to give out. He’s been on the edge since they first started and he’s not even sure what he’s asking for, just that he’s so close again and he needs—

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jeno soothes, tone gentle and his lips even gentler as they press against his own, which is kinda fucked up because the next thing he does is grab him around the waist and manhandle them so Renjun’s on his knees bent over the arm of the couch, his dick pulling out for just a second. Renjun barely has enough time to shove his face into a throw pillow before his cock is slamming back into him, hands tight around his waist.

The contrast is dizzying, because the way Jeno is kissing down the neck and the length of his spine is soft, tender even, but there’s nothing tender about the way he’s pulling his hips back, then rocking his hips forward with so much force that he actually moves Renjun up the couch and they have to scramble to readjust their positioning, Renjun holding onto the couch arm like a lifeline. He thinks there might be a bit of drool dribbling onto his pillow where his face is buried into it, which is so fucking gross but he can’t stop fucking moaning, though Jeno can’t either, neighbors be damned.

“Renjun,” Jeno whines, voice shaky as he mouths over the nape of his neck. “Fuck, I’m close—” He can feel the muscles of Jeno's abs flexing against his back, drawn tight, and he’s starting to make his breathy little gasping noises which is a sure sign he’s about to come even without the verbal confirmation. Renjun isn't too far off either at this point, and he squeezes his eyes shut desperate for a distraction as his own need builds and threatens to overflow.

“C’mere, Jeno, please,” he begs, and Jeno grabs at him, turning his chin back to kiss him. His neck cranes back uncomfortably but Renjun can’t bring himself to care, just whimpers into the kiss, which is really more of them mutually mouthing at each other because of the odd angle than anything else, both too far gone at this point to do much more. Jeno fucks into him smoothly even as his pace gets more erratic, then he’s shoving his face into Renjun’s neck again as his hips stutter and he’s spilling into him, filling him up until he feels warm and sated all over. He doesn’t stop moving the whole time, holding Renjun all the way down on his cock while he rides out his orgasm, reaches underneath their bodies even while he’s coming to stroke Renjun off, and threads their fingers together with his free hand.

Oh, Renjun realizes as he comes, biting down on his lower lip to stifle his moan, his hand wound tightly around Jeno’s. Oh, I’m fucked, aren’t I?

🐱🐱🐱

Renjun is so fucked. Deeply fucked, and not in the fun way (or, okay, sometimes in the fun way).

Jisung’s stopped by to annoy him during his office hours, and he keeps chattering about something-or-other, and Renjun’s just tuning him out at this point. Technically, Renjun doesn’t hold office hours as a graduate TA, but he stopped trying to explain that to Jisung after the fourth or fifth time he dropped by his office asking for help.

“Renjun,” he says suddenly, Renjun snapping back to attention. Startled, he drops his red pen all over the poor student’s paper he was grading. “Did you adopt another cat?”

“Huh— No,” Renjun makes a face. He glances at the name on the paper. Oh. Just Chenle. That’s fine, then. “You’ve met Pork Chop, do you really think she would tolerate another cat? She’s enough of a hassle by herself, anyways.”

Jisung leans over, daintily plucks a single white hair from his jacket. “You must be greying early, then,” he says, sounding mournful. “Your youth was so fleeting…”

“What? Show me that,” Renjun demands, leaning in closer. “That’s fur, Jisung, you idiot, I’m not greying.”

“But Pork Chop has grey fur, though?” Jisung regards him carefully, then pats him on the back. “It’s okay. Anderson Cooper has white hair, and he’s still hot, according to my mom, at least.”

Renjun bats his hand away, defensive. “No, seriously. Jeno’s cats have white fur, it’s probably just—”

“Who’s Jeno,” Jisung asks loudly. Renjun puts his head in his hands. He’s never even been to Jeno’s apartment, how is he spending enough time with him that fur from his cats is starting to get all over his shit? “Renjun, who’s Jeno.”

“He’s just— a friend. Someone I’ve been seeing.”

“You never told me you got a boyfriend???” Jisung squawks.

The denial is right there on the tip of Renjun’s tongue. It would be so easy, just— we’re not dating. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just convenient to hook up with, because of his huge dick and the fact that he’s the only man I’ve ever brought home who my evil fucking cat hasn’t tried to maul.

“I don’t, Jisung,” he finally replies, just to put the issue to rest until he can continue his monologue of inner turmoil privately. “Sometimes, when two adults like each other in a special way, they can spend time together without it being dating, okay?” Except Jeno’s added a toothbrush of his own to his growing collection of Miscellaneous Shit at Renjun’s place, and the last time he came over he’d bought groceries from the bougie organic grocery store downtown (Renjun usually just goes to Target), and sometimes he comes over just to spoon Renjun to sleep. And oh god, are they dating?

“You’re talking about sex, aren’t you.” Jisung says, resisting as Renjun tries to shove him out of his office and into the hallway. “Renjun, I know what sex is.”

Renjun slams the door shut in his face.

The thought haunts him all through his next lecture, and on his walk home, and by the time he’s reached his apartment he’s no closer to figuring it out than he was earlier. It doesn’t help that the source of his apparent confusion is laying on the couch they had defiled no less than 24 hours ago, his face buried into Pork Chop’s stomach.

“Why are you here?” Renjun asks. “And don’t do that, the last time you did you sneezed for five hours straight. Not sexy, Jeno. Not sexy at all.”

Jeno turns innocent eyes on him. “That didn’t stop you from sucking my dick, did it?”

“Jeno,” Renjun says very seriously. “There are very few forces on Earth that could stop me from sucking your dick. But that doesn’t mean it was sexy when you had to pause every five minutes to blow your nose.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jeno waves dismissively. “I took two benadryl before getting here. The non-drowsy kind! Plus, it’s movie night.”

Right. Movie night. God. What are they, married and in their thirties? Renjun looks at the TV, already loaded up with some B-grade Japanese horror film that he and Jeno will no doubt stop paying attention to as soon as the title screen rolls. “Fine,” he sighs, dropping his bag by the door and settling on the couch so that his back is pressed to Jeno’s front. Pork Chop glares at him from her spot perched on the armchair next to them. Jealous bitch. “But I get to be the little spoon.”

“You always get to be the little spoon,” Jeno whines, but wraps an arm around his waist without further argument and hooks a chin over his shoulder. His breath is warm against Renjun’s cheek, and it kind of tickles, but in a weird, pleasant way. Renjun squirms anyways, just to be annoying.

It takes a bit of maneuvering to get to the remote and press play, but Jeno manages to do it with only like, 60% as much gratuitous touching as he could have gotten away with. Renjun’s starting to think maybe Jeno really did come over just to watch the movie, until he starts mouthing wetly at the back of his neck ten minutes in. Y’all consider this a date? Renjun asks all five of his remaining brain cells, desperately, as Jeno pushes his hips forward just slightly so his dick is lined up with the crease of Renjun’s ass. He’s pretty sure Jeno’s not wearing any underwear under his sweatpants. Oh well.

“Jeno,” Renjun says, a warning, when Jeno shoves a hand up his shirt, palm flexing over the soft skin at his chest. He smacks his hand back down, and Jeno whimpers. “I’m watching the movie.” And actually he’s not, he hasn’t been since Jeno started basically dry humping him, but that’s neither here nor there.

“No, you’re not,” Jeno huffs, and tugs at the collar of Renjun’s shirt until enough collarbone is exposed for him to latch onto with his lips. “What happened in the last scene?”

“Shh,” Renjun murmurs, pushing his hips back and pressing right against the hard line of his cock. “A girl just crawled out of the television. Now she has seven days left to live.”

Jeno shifts behind him, wraps a hand around the back of his thigh and starts maneuvering his body around til he can push a leg between his. “That’s wrong, not every Japanese horror film is Sadako, Renjun.”

“I said shh,” Renjun says more insistently, and reaches back with a hand to dig the heel of his palm between Jeno’s legs. There is the sound of distant screaming coming from the TV, but neither of them are even pretending to look at the screen anymore. “Aw, look at all this cock, is all of this for me?” He asks, like he hasn’t been squirming around and trying to work him up as much as possible.

“Stop that,” Jeno whines, not sounding like he wants Renjun to stop very much at all, and leans in for a sloppy kiss, licking into Renjun’s mouth and making a very sad kicked puppy noise when Renjun pulls him back with a hand at the nape of his neck after just a few seconds.

“Okay, wait. I need to ask you something.” Renjun pauses, because the question’s truly been haunting him all day. “Jeno, are we dating?”

“Uhhh,” Jeno says, his hand stilling where it’s been trying to lift Renjun’s leg up for easier access. “I feel like we kind of have been dating for at least a month already. Remember, I met your parents?”

“Oh, right,” Renjun says. That’s true. Renjun’s mother had been so taken with him that she had tried to force feed no less than ten dumplings down his throat, all, 哎呀, so skinny, what is my son feeding you, is he taking proper care of you (the real indication of a Chinese mother’s approval). “So I guess we’re dating then?”

Jeno laughs. “I think that’s the most anticlimactic way I’ve ever been asked out. But yes, I guess we are. If you want to be?”

Renjun thinks about Pork Chop purring, about truly terrible egg-white omelettes and protein pancakes in the morning, about Eucalyptus-scented shampoo in his shower, about a pair of glasses on the nightstand next to his. “Yes,” he decides. “I do.” And it’s that easy. Everything is easy, with Jeno.

“Good,” Jeno leans forward to kiss him again, picks up right where they left off and continues pressing Renjun’s thigh up into his chest. Horndog. Not that Renjun can blame him, he’s just as bad.

“I know we just started dating. But I’m starting to think you only like me for my supple, bendable body,” Renjun says mournfully, letting Jeno stretch him out this way and that. “And my one-bedroom roommate-less apartment.”

“And your cat,” Jeno says, removing a hand from Renjun’s ass to reach out and pet Pork Chop. “Don’t forget the cat.”

(“I knew he was your boyfriend,” Jisung crows when Renjun brings Jeno around to meet his friends, a couple of days later. Mark, the most normal of his friends, gives Jeno a fist-bump and a slap on the back.

“Hi,” Jeno tries to say to Donghyuck, who’s staring at him blankly. He offers him a hand to shake. “I’m Jeno, Renjun’s boyfriend.” Renjun is only a little embarrassed that hearing him say those words still makes him smile like a fucking idiot.

Donghyuck takes one look at Jeno’s face, then at his outstretched hand, then at Renjun’s ass. “Four fingers,” he mutters, as if in a trance, then shakes his head. He walks away without another word to either him or Renjun.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jeno asks Renjun, looking truly bewildered.

“Ignore him,” Renjun says, and drags him down for another kiss. Mark covers Jisung’s eyes. “He hates gay people.”)