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The kitchen smelled like garlic and soy sauce, vegetables sizzling in the pan as Jaemin stirred lazily. Some indie mix played low from the living room speaker, a playlist Jaemin swore he didn’t make, though Chenle kept catching him humming along.
Chenle himself was sitting cross-legged on the counter, chopsticks in one hand and a peeled carrot in the other, occasionally stealing bites from whatever food Jaemin was prepping like it was his divine right.
He was not actually helping for once, but he talked enough for the both of them as the evening unfolded.
He had decided to stay over for a few days, because they had a stretch of free time between promotions and the chaos of everyone else's conflicting schedules.
Some members were spending time with family, Renjun was off painting in a mountain village or something equally dramatic, and Donghyuck had picked up a project that had him glued to the studio.
That left Chenle with an empty apartment and too much restless energy so he'd texted Jaemin at 2 a.m. with a simple, “u up? i’m coming over tomorrow” and that had been that.
Now, with their phones face-down and nowhere to be, the apartment felt like a bubble. There was no pressure here, surrounded by the occasional clink of utensils and the sound of food being prepared.
“Did you dump sugar in there earlier?” Chenle asked suddenly, eyeing the simmering pan with suspicion.
“It’s brown sugar,” Jaemin said, like that explained everything.
“That’s worse.”
Jaemin shrugged, bumping Chenle lightly with his hip as he reached past him for a bunch of spring onions. “You’ll eat it anyway.”
“Because I’m polite.”
“You’re not polite,” Jaemin deadpanned, taking out a knife and beginning to slice the onions with quick motions. “You just love my cooking.”
“I love not starving.” They grinned at each other, the banter coming easily to them now. By this point, they’ve known each other long enough to know how to be mean with love.
Chenle nudged him back, shoulder to shoulder as they traded places at the counter. Luna weaved between their ankles, letting out a long, dramatic meow as if she had something important to contribute.
“Watch out,” Jaemin muttered as he stepped over the cat like it was second nature. “They’re on a mission today.”
“No kidding,” Chenle replied, glancing down at Lucy who was sitting right next to the fridge like she was ready to launch herself inside the moment it opened. Luke was sprawled on the rug by the door, belly up, judging them in silence.
“Do you think they get bored when we’re out? What do they do all day?” Chenle asked, flipping the tofu in the pan while Jaemin tossed the cut vegetables into a bowl.
“They sleep, probably. Plot mischief. Try to eat the plants.”
“Sounds like us, minus the plants.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve been sleeping like five hours a night, max.”
Chenle leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he took him in. “How’s your schedule been?”
Jaemin was rinsing some dishes in the sink, and the sound of water filled the space. When he turned back, there was a pensive look on his face. “Long,” he said finally. “But it’s good to be busy, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Chenle agreed, voice coming out softer. “I’ve missed doing stuff with everyone and having different projects going on, but the constant travel…”
“It drains you.”
“Mm.”
They fell into silence again, the sizzle of the pan serving to accompany the next song on the playlist. Luna leapt up onto a stool and watched them like she was assigned to monitor their progress.
They worked in tandem as Chenle pulled plates from the cabinet, Jaemin folding napkins one-handed because he was using his other hand to keep Lucy from jumping up onto the counter. Luke had also trotted in at some point, trailing after them, ever so curious.
“Do we want soda or beer with this?” Jaemin asked, moving over to crack the fridge open.
“Beer sounds good but soda won’t mess with my sleep schedule.”
“Since when do you care about your sleep schedule?”
“Since I have to sing at 10 a.m. on Monday.”
"Soda it is,” Jaemin snorted as he opened the fridge and began scanning the shelves.
“I’m a responsible adult sometimes,” Chenle said through a grin.
“Keyword: sometimes,” Jaemin muttered, tossing him a can.
Chenle just set down the chopsticks more loudly than necessary and shot Jaemin a mock-glare. Jaemin smirked as he set down his own drink, then headed back to the kitchen to grab the pan.
While he was turned away, he could feel that Chenle’s eyes lingered on him. Not in an overt way, and maybe if Jaemin weren’t used to him, he might not have noticed, but he did.
He saw how Chenle’s fingers slowed where they were folding the dish towel, his brows furrowing together like there was a thought caught between them.
Jaemin didn’t say anything. He brought the food over, set it down, and watched the other in return. Chenle still didn’t speak. His gaze flickered to Jaemin again, quick, like he was about to say something, then he looked away once more, fiddling with his sleeves.
Jaemin continued to set the table in silence, waiting for other signs. Whatever was plaguing Chenle, he hoped he felt safe enough to voice it without fear of judgement.
He didn’t ask outright what was on Chenle’s mind because if he did, it'd spook him. Chenle was like a cat that way, so Jaemin decided to give him space, letting the moment stretch until the question either broke free or faded away.
But it didn't come.
Instead, Chenle sat down and scooped rice into both of their bowls. “You really added sugar to this?” he teased, like he was forcing the conversation back to familiar ground.
Jaemin let him. “Just a little. Taste it before you judge me.”
They both took a bite. Chenle chewed slowly, pretending to think it over, like he wanted to prove a point, then ended up nodding because he couldn’t not admit it. “Okay, that’s annoyingly decent.”
“See?” Jaemin smirked, reaching for the kimchi. “I know what I’m doing.”
“You got lucky, but you also definitely over-salted the sauce,” Chenle said around a mouthful.
“You were in charge of seasoning.”
Chenle waved a hand dismissively, cheeks full as he continued to chew. “Details.”
Jaemin leaned back in his chair, a bit amused at his usual antics. “Keep complaining and you’re on dish duty.”
“I was already on dish duty.”
As the conversation kept unfolding, Jaemin caught Chenle watching him more than once, and each time their gazes met, Chenle looked away, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.
His smile was wide as they continued the conversation, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and when the pauses stretched too long, he started talking faster, filling the room with noise—little anecdotes, questions about nothing in particular.
Jaemin didn’t push.
The evening moved on, both of them relocating in the living room to kill some time before bed. Chenle kicked his heels against the side of the couch, his fidgeting and restlessness more evident when compared to how calm everything else was around them.
They’d been watching a dumb and unmemorable show for the past half hour, yet it wasn’t the episode holding Chenle’s attention; it was Jaemin.
He noticed how Chenle’s gaze lingered longer than usual, and though he tried to make it appear casual, it was anything but. Jaemin was hyper aware of it now, how Chenle was definitely trying to read him, or maybe waiting for a sign. A sign of what, though, he couldn't tell.
Jaemin’s fingers curled around his soda can, thumb tracing the condensation absentmindedly as he tried to focus back on whatever was on the screen.
“Hey, um…” Chenle started, then hesitated.
Jaemin hummed, not looking away, so Chenle would finally be able to say what was on his mind.
“Have you ever, like…” He fiddled with the hem of his hoodie. “Sucked someone off?”
Jaemin’s brain short-circuited for half a second. He blinked once. Then again. His mind scrambled to replay the last few seconds, wondering if he’d misheard. The words had been soft, but not uncertain, like Chenle had been rehearsing them.
That was what he had been working up to this whole time?
Jaemin straightened a little on instinct, eyes widening as he turned to look at him. Chenle wasn’t looking back. He was hunched a bit, stirring the straw in his drink unnecessarily. His shoulders were taut, brows faintly drawn as he looked around the living room wearily.
Oh, Jaemin realized. That was why he’d been acting weird all evening.
And that opened up a door Jaemin hadn’t expected to need to walk through tonight. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, because there was no way Chenle was really serious.
Not like this.
He had to be messing with him, trying to catch him off guard, maybe testing the waters to see how far he could push.
But why?
Jaemin’s mind raced with a dozen cheeky comebacks and teasing remarks, already plotting how to mess with him and make Chenle sweat just as much as he was making Jaemin. He imagined how he might smirk, how he’d draw out his answer to keep Chenle guessing and turn the tables. No one could beat him at these mind games.
“Yeah,” Jaemin said eventually, trying to keep his composure. “Why?”
Chenle shrank into the couch cushions, and there seemed to be real relief there, like he hadn’t been sure what Jaemin would say, or how he’d say it. “I don’t know. I was curious. I’ve never… I don’t really have anyone to ask.”
A beat. He could hear the faint hum of the fridge and Luna's thump as she jumped down from the windowsill. Chenle shifted slightly beside him on the couch, the cushions dipping enough that their legs brushed. Neither of them pulled away.
Then, “What was it like?”
Jaemin turned to look at him and he took a moment to sit there in surprise, because he hadn't been expecting a follow-up and definitely not that one.
It wasn’t like he’d never been asked about this stuff before. Among the Dream members, his queerness wasn’t a secret and he definitely wasn’t the only gay one in the group. It wasn’t broadcasted, but it had never been hidden either.
There had been jokes in the beginning, awkward or harmless depending on the day, but they’d outgrown that. Or most of them had. They knew, they just didn’t talk about it.
Chenle, though…Chenle was nosy. Always had been. He had this habit of poking his head into everything, asked weirdly specific questions about the most random shit. But sex? This?
He huffed a breath that was half a laugh, half disbelief. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
Chenle shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and failing spectacularly as his leg moved closer against Jaemin’s on the couch.
“What are you after, exactly? You asking what it felt like physically to have a cock in my mouth?” Jaemin asked. “The taste? You want to know the technique? It’s hard to say, though, Lele. It depends on everyone and what they like, and it’s different depending on your partner as well.”
Chenle flushed instantly, color blooming across his cheeks and down his neck as he took in the explanation. He ducked his head, biting the inside of his lip, but he didn’t seem all that scandalized or like he wanted to flee.
There was tension in the air, the atmosphere having gone taut.
He exhaled through his nose and leaned back to stretch his legs out, giving both of them a bit more space even though he didn't really want to move away. He let one hand fall to his thigh, the other resting on the back of the couch where it brushed against Chenle’s shoulder.
That earned him a small nod. Chenle still didn’t look at him, fiddling with his drink like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. He was decidedly doing a good job of pretending to be casual.
His voice hadn’t wavered when he’d asked, his posture all relaxed slouch and lazy limbs, but Jaemin could see through him. Then Chenle lifted his gaze, and though his mouth was set, his eyes were uncertain, wide and a bit glassy under the lamplight as he asked, “Will you teach me?”
Oh. So that was where Chenle had been going with it.
Jaemin froze as heat rushed through him because that basically upended the entire energy of the room.
He could, was the thing. He could pull Chenle into his lap and show him exactly how good it could feel. He could coax pleasure out of him until he forgot why he was ever nervous. He could make him feel safe and undone at the same time. And God, the thought was tempting.
Instead, Jaemin swallowed hard and exhaled through his nose, trying to bring his heartrate to normal levels.
Chenle was even more flushed now, the pink having spread from his cheeks all the way down his neck, and in spite of his fidgeting, when he met Jaemin’s eyes he looked so brave that it gutted him a little.
Jaemin didn’t say no yet, but he didn’t say yes either.
Because he was interested. Fuck, he was so interested. There was a low ache blooming in his chest, curling down into a feeling that was heavier and hungrier. He just needed a second to catch up and understand exactly what was happening.
For a wild moment, he considered asking if Chenle was joking. He didn’t, because deep down he already knew the answer.
“You’re sure?” Jaemin asked quietly, scanning Chenle’s face for any sign of uncertainty.
Chenle nodded once, no trace of hesitation.
He found himself flipping through memories like flashcards: Chenle clapping too enthusiastically the first time he and Jeno walked out of the gym shirtless, him always showing up to their workouts under the guise of “supervising” and ending up sitting cross-legged with a smoothie, eyes trailing.
Little throwaway, casual comments Chenle had made about Jaemin’s arms, his shoulders, and Jaemin laughing them off, because what else did you do when your younger member flirted like it was a joke?
Except maybe it wasn’t. Maybe none of it had been. Jaemin tried to anchor himself, his thoughts feeling too loud all of a sudden with this new added weight of his realization.
“You’re…” he started, then stopped himself. He was going to say straight but what did that even mean now? Had he ever known for sure?
Chenle fidgeted again, biting at his lip, then, almost as if shaking off the weight of the moment, he smirked and leaned forward.
“No, listen,” he said lightly. He was trying to sound like it was no big deal, like it was just a thought he’d had.
“I know what you might be thinking. I know what I used to say about being straight. It’s one thing to imagine all this,” he waved a hand vaguely, “you know, in theory. But what if, when it comes down to it, I realize I don’t like it? What if it’s only hot in theory and then, like, a total flop?”
“That kind of makes sense, though I’m not sure that’s how it works. You don’t try it once and then decide ‘nah, not for me.’”
Chenle shrugged, eyes twinkling with bratty defiance. “Well, maybe you’ve never had to wonder, but some of us do, okay?”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
“And who else can I do this with,” Chenle said, dropping his voice lower, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s not gonna expect anything afterward? Like, no strings, no drama. Just… this.”
That landed like a weight in Jaemin’s chest, and now his instincts were pulling him in two directions. He wanted to protect Chenle but he also wanted to touch him. He wanted to say no while also wanting to say yes. He wanted to go back five minutes and pretend none of this had ever happened.
And above all, he wanted to keep looking into those sincere eyes that made everything else fade into the background.
“That’s…” Jaemin faltered. “That’s still not how this works.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.
Chenle nodded once, like he’d expected as much. “I know that, but I thought I’d feel safest if it was you.”
And that was the line that undid Jaemin completely. It should have been a hard no for every good reason: Chenle was younger, and figuring things out. This could blow up everything between them.
In spite of all the arguments, however, he liked knowing he was trusted so much.
Jaemin’s lips twitched into a knowing smirk. He could picture Chenle on his knees so well, holding that mischievous attitude as he tried to act casual when he was anything but.
The thought settled warm and possessive inside him.
“So…” Jaemin leaned forward, teasing, “was that the plan? You get here and ask to get on your knees for me? Think you’re ready for what you’re asking here?”
Chenle straightened, trying to puff up his chest and flash that trademark bratty grin.
“Please, I can definitely do it,” he said, but as much as he tried to seem confident, there was a flicker of nerves beneath. “You just have to tell me what to do.”
Jaemin narrowed his eyes, amused and yet not fully convinced. He leaned closer, voice dropping low and intentionally crude. “Would you be okay with me down your throat, baby? You would choke so much. Could you handle the taste of a cock, or how full your mouth’s gonna be?”
The words hit harder than Chenle probably expected. His grin faltered as his face turned beet red. The bravado cracked enough for Jaemin to be able to see the hesitation, the tiniest trace of doubt.
“Thought so.”
He reached out, his hand gentle on Chenle’s jaw as he established eye contact, surveying his face one last time. “No pressure, okay? How about we switch things up for now. Let me show you first.”
Chenle locked his gaze on his, studying him back; he seemed less hesitant and more curious now, and this fact also helped to settle Jaemin.
He finally nodded.
“Alright,” Jaemin said at last. He studied Chenle’s face for a beat longer, then nodded once. “Then stay right there.”
Chenle blinked. “Here?”
“Right there,” Jaemin repeated, firmer now. His hand pressed lightly against Chenle’s knee, as if to anchor him. “I think the couch is good for this. Put your back against the cushions.”
It wasn’t a question, and Chenle moved like his body knew it. He repositioned himself wordlessly until his spine was pressing into the seat, keeping his arms stiffly at his sides.
His face was set in that carefully neutral expression but Jaemin could see that he was affected.
He leaned in, hands settling at the hem of Chenle’s hoodie. “Lift your arms.”
Chenle hesitated for a second too long, then obeyed. The cotton bunched as Jaemin eased it up over his torso, then peeled the hoodie from his body, dragging it slowly over skin, his knuckles brushing his sides. The hoodie came off and Jaemin tossed it aside to let his eyes linger.
Beneath it, a white singlet clung close to Chenle's slim and defined frame. He was not bulked or overbuilt, but he was cut in that dancer’s way, all muscle and sinew.
The fabric stretched over the dip of his collarbones, outlining the faint ridges of his abs. Subtle, lean muscle, smooth skin. Jaemin hadn’t realized he’d memorized this frame until this very moment.
He’d sucked people off too many times to count, but never quite like this and never with someone who was part of his every day. It was a novelty for him as well to be with someone who trusted him to this extent.
Chenle’s breathing wasn’t even anymore, and neither was Jaemin’s.
He lowered himself to his knees without preamble, and the moment he was eye-level with the button of Chenle’s jeans, the tension twisted tighter in his gut.
There was already a bulge there, visible now that the hoodie was out of the way, pressing insistently against the denim.
He lifted one hand to the button and flicked it open. There was a subtle twitch from Chenle, barely there, but Jaemin felt it like a pulse under his palm.
He pulled the zipper down carefully, the sound loud in the room’s silence, and then his hands moved to grasp onto Chenle’s hips, fingers sliding into the waistband, hooking both jeans and briefs at once.
“Still okay?” Jaemin asked, trying to be careful with this moment.
Chenle looked down at Jaemin, eyes dark. His jaw was tight, though Jaemin realized it was not with discomfort, but from the effort of restraint.
Then, in typical fashion, his lips curled at the corners in that cocky, knowing way Jaemin both loved and wanted to kiss right off his face.
“Will you just get on with it?” he said, impatient, almost like a dare.
Jaemin let a laugh despite himself. Of course. Even now, Chenle couldn’t resist a little bratty flare, and the affection in Jaemin’s chest was dizzying, the arousal not far behind.
He eased everything down, the fabric catching around Chenle’s thighs for a moment before Jaemin coaxed it lower, sliding it down over his knees and all the way to the floor.
He ghosted his fingers along the insides of Chenle’s thighs as he helped him step out, letting his touch linger for a second too long as he straightened up again, taking in the sight in front of him.
He rested his hands on Chenle’s hips, thumbs rubbing in circles there. “You can back out any time,” he reminded him, because someone had to say it again. Even when Chenle was acting bold, Jaemin wouldn’t stop giving him every chance to walk away.
“I know,” Chenle said. “I won’t.”
That was when Jaemin let go of whatever line they’d been walking. He smiled faintly as he settled between Chenle’s knees, the barest upturn at the corner of his mouth betraying how much he was enjoying this; this moment, this closeness, the sudden shift of their dynamic.
He glanced up once more, locking eyes with Chenle, who stared back like he was bracing for impact. Then Jaemin let his gaze drop, finally giving himself permission to look at what Chenle was offering.
It wasn’t the size or shape that tripped him up. Chenle’s cock wasn’t the biggest he’d ever seen, or the thickest, but it was pretty. It rested between Chenle’s legs with an eager weight, nestled among a patch of dark hair and flushed a warm pink hue that stood out against his paler thighs, already leaking at the tip.
Jaemin’s mouth watered as soon as the thought registered.
And that caught him a bit off guard.
He didn’t linger too long in awe, though. That wasn’t his style. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss below the head, feather-light, like he was testing the waters, then he dragged the flat of his tongue slowly across the slit, lapping up the pre-come with a thoughtful hum.
Chenle exhaled hard through his nose, his thighs twitching faintly where Jaemin’s hands rested.
Jaemin didn’t rush. He pressed another kiss, lower this time, then began his descent, lips parting, tongue trailing, teasing along the underside with maddening softness. His fingers cupped the base gently, stroking with light pressure, almost lazy, and then he paused to look up again.
Chenle continued to watch him raptly, barely blinking.
“Breathe, Chenle,” he said, amused. “You’ll pass out before we get to the good part.”
Chenle broke out of his trance to let out a short, incredulous laugh that died in his throat halfway through.
Jaemin’s palms travelled up the length of Chenle’s thighs, reverent, thumbs brushing along the insides where the skin was palest and the fine tremble there made him grin.
It was almost indecent how delicate Chenle looked here, sprawled open and flushed, his knees parted in expectation.
He was usually so full of noise and opinions, but now he was quiet as he took in the sigh of Jaemin on his knees like he couldn't quite believe this was happening to him.
Smirking, Jaemin dipped lower and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the crease of Chenle’s thigh. There was a freckle there he hadn’t noticed before and he homed in on it, sucking a little, just to see what noise it would get him.
Chenle shifted under his ministrations and Jaemin hummed, pleased.
“You’re ticklish here,” he said, tongue pressing in again insistently. “Noted. You like that? The idea of someone leaving marks on you here?”
Chenle’s eyes were half-lidded, dazed, yet his mouth still worked, bratty by reflex. “What if I do?”
Jaemin laughed under his breath. “Then you’re filthier than I thought.”
He pressed another kiss there, then sucked deeply at the fragile skin and when he finally pulled back, the mark he left behind was dark. He pressed his thumb to the center and watched as Chenle’s body reacted again.
“I should leave you covered,” he continued, lifting his head a fraction to speak against Chenle’s skin. “So you feel it tomorrow when you walk and remember how this felt every time you move.”
Chenle made a strangled noise at that, half-embarrassed, half-turned on, and Jaemin nearly melted with how much he enjoyed it.
He let his hands roam then, exploring the expanse of skin revealed to him. He began with Chenle’s abdomen, his fingertips tracing across the faint definition there. The muscles jumped under his touch, a twitch that betrayed exactly how strung out Chenle was even though they'd barely begun.
Jaemin smiled to himself, amused and impossibly fond.
He, too, was enjoying this; and more than the act he liked how much power he held when he did this, how he could make Chenle unravel under so little as he tried to anticipate what his next move was going to be.
Jaemin dragged his tongue up the underside of his cock once more. He flattened his palm over Chenle’s hip, thumb stroking idle circles, then pulled back slightly, mouth hovering close enough for Chenle to feel every breath he let out.
“I don’t remember you being this quiet,” he said, taking any chance he could to tease him. “Have I finally broken you?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Jaemin let out a delighted laugh. “Too late. Let’s see how long you can hold out, star pupil.”
And with that he leaned in again, pressing another kiss to the base, then trailed his tongue up the underside, following that thick vein all the way to the head. Chenle shuddered beneath him. Jaemin took his time, mouthing wetly at the tip as his lips wrapped around the crown and sucked softly.
Chenle let out a sound, not quite a moan, but enough that Jaemin’s pulse jumped in response. His hand was stroking loosely in time with the bob of his head as he gradually worked more of Chenle into his mouth.
It was a stretch. His jaw already felt the pull, but he kept going a little deeper until the head nudged the back of his tongue and he pulled off with a pop, catching his breath.
He was going to draw this out as much as possible, because Chenle deserved to be ruined slow, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.
“You’re so good at this, hyung.” Chenle’s voice broke on a moan as Jaemin’s tongue circled across the tip, tasting the salty, musky pre-come pooling there. The slickness made Jaemin’s fingers and mouth work smoother, everything becoming wetter.
The wrecked praise lit a hot and primal urge in him. He hummed against the tip in response, letting the vibration travel through Chenle’s cock in pleased acknowledgment.
His eyes swept up for a second, catching how Chenle’s head tipped back, lashes fluttering.
It was beautifully honest, and just a tad bit desperate.
He sucked deeper, the firm pulls of his mouth fueled by more purpose, tongue flattening on the underside. Because yes, he was proud, and if Chenle was going to fall apart for him, he was going to make damn sure he earned every broken sound that slipped out of that pretty mouth.
“I like this part,” he whispered, almost to himself.
And he did.
He loved the quiet before things got frantic, the part where he was in control, where his hands and mouth could coax out pleasure from his partner. He loved how warm it felt, how personal, to have someone open for him like this.
He loved the taste, even, salty and clean and unique each time. He liked learning people through this; through how they breathed, how they held back sounds or let them slip. He liked the ache in his jaw, the wetness on his lips, to feel how the skin shifted and pulsed under his tongue.
He liked giving, especially when the person he was giving to was watching him so raptly.
His tongue lapped at the slit again, then down the underside with the same lazy strokes he used before, teasing the thick vein that ran underneath. His hand stroked slowly, his thumb brushing the slick tip every so often to spread the wetness around more.
The warmth of Chenle’s cock pressed to his tongue and how it pulsed beneath his lips sent a small thrill through Jaemin. He was focused on the build-up, savoring every subtle shift in Chenle’s body, how the muscles rippled under his touch, his hips tilting in rhythm with Jaemin’s mouth.
He looked up again—couldn’t help it—and saw Chenle’s mouth parted, flushed all the way to his chest now. His hands were fists against the couch cushions, knuckles white, and his thighs were visibly shaking.
“How’re you doin’, Le? Still having a good time?” There was a playful edge in his tone, but beneath it was a genuine check-in.
Chenle glared at him, breathless. “You know I’m good.”
“Just checking,” Jaemin said, and then sank his mouth down again, going deeper, his jaw stretching to accommodate the weight.
He bobbed his head, his hand working in tandem, keeping everything nice and smooth. Every now and then he paused to suck under the head, or to drag his tongue along the ridge. He wanted Chenle to feel it for hours after. To remember him for days.
And from the wrecked sounds coming from above, he knew he was halfway there.
“Careful,” Chenle rasped, voice coming out thin. “Keep doing that and I’m not gonna last.”
“Then don’t. I wanna see how pretty you look when you lose it,” he said, words coming out wet and warm against sensitive skin as he pulled back.
Jaemin’s own skin felt flushed, hypersensitive, nerves buzzing from the weight of Chenle’s body. There was heat radiating off his thighs, the taste of him lingering on Jaemin’s tongue. His jaw ached, his lips were swollen, but none of it slowed him down.
If anything, the tension building inside him only increased his focus. Every needy sound Chenle made went straight to Jaemin’s groin, sending sparks dancing up his spine. He shifted again, the friction of his clothes unbearable now, hips pressing subtly against the air to chase relief, though he didn’t stop.
Didn’t even consider it.
It was intense to be the one in control while also completely undone himself. Jaemin was drowning in it, in the taste, the rhythm, the weight of it all. He felt feral and alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Chenle’s thick crown was pressed against the back of Jaemin’s throat, and it was far enough to make his eyes sting, but not enough to overwhelm him. That's where he wanted him for now.
The thrill of trying to take more was strong, and he wanted to flatten his nose against Chenle’s lower stomach and feel the full weight of it deep in his throat. He decided against it for now, letting the ache in his jaw build in increments instead.
It was addictive to have this kind of power.
Jaemin pulled back a fraction, spit trailing from his lips to Chenle’s tip. His hand followed in the retreat, slick fingers wrapping around the length, working the gathered saliva down the shaft in smooth strokes. It shone under the lights of his apartment, flushed and wet, almost too pretty to be real.
Chenle had been silent at first, the only sounds being his sharp inhales, bitten-off groans and half-swallowed noises that said he was trying not to be too loud. The more Jaemin went on, he could hear him unraveling more, low whines slipping out when Jaemin flattened his tongue and dragged it along the underside as he moved.
It was filthy. It was beautiful.
He moaned softly around him to feel his reaction, see how his hips jerked up instinctively, his hands grabbing at the edge of the couch cushion like he didn’t know what else to hold onto.
Jaemin steadied him with one hand, palm splayed flat over Chenle’s stomach. He could feel every muscle fluttering under his touch, full of need and helpless pleasure. Then suddenly, Chenle’s fingers were in Jaemin’s hair, tight and urgent, pulling him closer like a command.
“Hyung, I’m—”
Chenle’s words cut off as his body shuddered, a coil winding tight, but Jaemin already knew. He had known, had been tracking every shift in reactions, how his stomach chenched and thighs trembled, cock twitching more frequently the closer he got to the edge. The wave that had been building under his hands was cresting now, and Jaemin didn’t flinch from it.
He hummed low, a wordless sound that vibrated through the gap between them, his way of saying: I’ve got you.
Chenle’s body went tight, spine arching under the onslaught. His eyes closed and his mouth fell open in a silent cry, his whole frame shuddering as the release hit him. Jaemin stayed right there, letting him ride it out, grounded by the weight of Chenle’s hand in his hair.
Chenle’s breath hitched, his lips parting for a whimper that rippled through the room. The salty taste of release filled Jaemin’s mouth, warm and overwhelming, tangling with the metallic edge of adrenaline.
He swallowed carefully, savoring the flavor and how Chenle shuddered against him, his fingers clutching tight, almost desperate.
When Jaemin pulled back, there was a moment of calm, Chenle’s chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, his skin flushed and shining with a fine sheen of sweat.
He wasn’t expecting it when Chenle pulled him up by the arm, giving him no chance to protest. He got hauled up onto the couch, and Jaemin stumbled before finding himself underneath Chenle.
"Hey—" Jaemin started, but Chenle didn’t give him the time to finish the thought. The younger’s face had a different kind of heat in his cheeks now, no longer from embarrassment. His expression was determined as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Jaemin’s.
It started slow and almost deceptively soft, a teasing brush of lips, and Chenle didn’t stay gentle for long.
He grinned against Jaemin’s mouth, a playful little gesture, and nipped at his bottom lip to make Jaemin exhale sharply. Then he deepened it, tongue slipping boldly past Jaemin’s lips, like he’d been waiting for this and refused to hold back now that it was happening.
His fingers bunched in the fabric of Jaemin’s shirt to pull him closer, grounding them both in the press of their mouths. Jaemin groaned, caught off guard by how desperate it felt.
Chenle kissed like he was also trying to learn Jaemin from the inside out, like every drag of his tongue and every open-mouthed kiss was a way to gather information he’d use against him later.
And Jaemin let him. He let himself sink into it and gave Chenle the lead for a change.
It wasn't because he didn’t want to take control, but he was beginning to discover that it was hot to let Chenle want so openly. They kissed until Jaemin’s lungs ached and the air between them felt like it was crackling.
Then Chenle pulled back to look at him, searching his face like he was memorizing it.
Jaemin’s heart stuttered at the intensity.
“Let me touch you,” Chenle said it like it was a request, however there was a glint in his eyes that betrayed exactly how much he’d already decided he was going to.
Jaemin nodded as he settled better against the couch, stretching out like he was offering himself up. His head tipped back, neck exposed, though it wasn’t submission, no. What he was offering was permission.
He watched as Chenle shifted to straddle his lap, knees on either side, body warm and buzzing with anticipation.
Chenle settled over him, skin flushed a pretty pink, only the wrinkled singlet clinging to his frame, riding up to reveal the bare skin of his hips. His thighs were spread wide around Jaemin’s waist, cock laying soft and spent against his thigh, and there was a pinkness in his cheeks that hadn’t faded since earlier.
Jaemin stared shamelessly drinking in every inch of him. Chenle looked wrecked in the most beautiful way—hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, gaze burning with that mischievous edge. And Jaemin felt it stir again, that low, thrumming need, like electricity under his skin.
The heat simmering low in his belly was not only arousal; watching Chenle be hungry like this, like Jaemin was a rare sight he’d been allowed to touch, made Jaemin feel like he was floating. The restless tension coiled in his own thighs, his own cock pulsing between his legs.
Chenle started slow but he was not shy about it. His hands slid over Jaemin’s chest, palms splayed across the curve of his pecs, thumbs gliding along the slope of muscle through the cotton of his shirt, then moving downward. He lingered there, pressing in slightly, eyes flicking up to watch Jaemin’s face.
He hummed softly, like he enjoyed what he was finding.
“Your abs can compete with Jeno hyung,” he said. “How long until you also go shirtless on stage?”
Jaemin smirked, chest pushing up into his touch. “This is all for you now, baby.”
“Oh, I plan to take full advantage,” Chenle replied, leaning in to mouth at Jaemin’s jaw, barely grazing the skin.
Then, after a beat, his hands drifted again. Fingertips trailed down Jaemin’s ribs, following the natural groove of his torso. He traced the edges of his waist like he was exploring a topography he’d only ever glimpsed before, reverent like he wanted to learn everything by touch alone.
Jaemin’s breath stuttered in his chest. It wasn’t that the contact was overtly sexual yet, but it was intentional. There was purpose behind every movement, and Jaemin could feel himself unraveling beneath it.
It had been a while since anyone had touched him with this much intent. Since someone had wanted to.
Chenle smiled and kept going, hands smoothing down Jaemin’s arms, tracing the muscles and veins, the shape of his wrists. Then he was back at Jaemin’s chest, palming him through his shirt, and Jaemin’s hips pushed up involuntarily.
His arousal was simmering low, and he could feel himself throbbing more. His cock strained against the fabric of his underwear, already damp at the tip where precome had definitely soaked through by this point, sticky and warm.
Every touch of Chenle’s fingers sent a jolt through his body, making it worse and better at the same time, heightening his want into something near-painful. His hips shifted again, searching for friction without meaning to, betraying how tightly wound he was.
Chenle’s touch was curious, however, and Jaemin did not want to rush him, giving him time to explore and find out whatever it was he wanted to know tonight.
He had never felt so seen. Chenle licked into his mouth with growing confidence, fingers bunching the fabric of Jaemin’s shirt like he couldn’t help himself, like holding onto him was the only way to stay grounded.
Jaemin let himself fall into it, let everything unspool from his chest as he kissed him back, open-mouthed and breathless. They didn’t separate for a long moment, until Jaemin’s lungs began to ache from the lack of air, and when they finally broke apart, the atmosphere around them felt charged.
“You okay?” Chenle asked, nosing along Jaemin’s jaw.
“Yeah,” Jaemin said hoarsely. “Just—feels good, that’s all.”
Chenle hummed, and Jaemin felt him smile faintly against his skin. Then Chenle tesingly plucked at the hem of Jaemin’s shirt, encouraging him to take it off. “I think you’d look better without this.”
Jaemin raised a brow, amused, obliging anyway. He peeled the fabric off, not shy, because if Chenle was going to stare, then Jaemin wanted to make a show of it.
The shirt hit the floor and immediately Chenle’s hands were on him, palms flattening over warm skin as he explored some more. He even whistled a bit. “Damn. You’re really built, huh?”
Jaemin rolled his eyes as heat crawled up his neck. “Is this going somewhere, or are you only gonna narrate everything you see?”
“Don’t tempt me,” Chenle said with a grin, and then he leaned back in, hands warm on Jaemin’s now-bare chest.
He didn’t rush. His thumbs brushed over Jaemin’s nipples, light at first, then circling and teasing until it made Jaemin squirm. Chenle noticed, of course.
“Oh?” he said, smug. “Sensitive?”
Jaemin glared, though he knew it lacked bite. “How about you do that again and find out.”
Chenle did. Again and again, watching Jaemin closely, practically purring with satisfaction as the older boy’s breathing changed from his ministrations. Jaemin wasn’t the type to admit it out loud, but he was sensitive there. Had always been, really.
It wasn’t a fact he thought about often, since not many had ever taken the time to discover, and when Chenle touched him like that it sent sparks straight to his core.
“You’re so—” Chenle started, and stopped as he looked from Jaemin’s arms to his chest. “You’re built like a comic book character,” he said eventually, and Jaemin huffed a surprised laugh.
A moment later he was kissing him again.
This time it was different, Chenle leaning in like he was starved for contact, mouth moving with more certainty, body pressing flush to Jaemin’s.
His hands didn’t stop roaming, one pressed against Jaemin’s chest, the other sliding over his stomach, tracing muscle with reverence and need.
And Jaemin felt it—subtle at first, then unmistakable: the hardening press of Chenle’s cock against his thigh and Chenle unconsciously beginning to grind into him as their bodies slotted together.
It pulled a low hum from Jaemin’s throat, not just from the physical sensation but from the thrill of knowing he had done that. That Chenle, all nerve and bite and bravado, was coming undone again because of him.
Chenle dragged his palms down Jaemin’s sides, tracing the dips and rises of his torso, lingering at the curve of his waist. His thumbs pressed lightly into the lines of Jaemin’s abs, and he followed the movement with his eyes, like he was afraid to miss a detail.
Then he went down again, across the muscle of Jaemin’s biceps, the line of his forearm, mapping everything thoroughly. Jaemin wasn’t used to being seen this way, touched with reverence and curiosity that felt more personal than was strictly necessary from this type of encounter.
Jaemin’s breath hitched when Chenle broke the kiss and mouthed at the edge of his jaw, then down to his collarbone, warm lips pressing there, followed gently by his teeth.
A mark, maybe. A test.
“You’re really letting me do this?” Chenle said against his skin, like he couldn’t quite believe it yet.
“Yeah,” Jaemin admitted in a whisper.
And god help him, he didn’t want it to stop.
Jaemin allowed himself to sink into the couch, thighs spreading as he gave Chenle free reign to look and touch and take. For now, Jaemin felt generous. He stayed still, let himself be handled, allowed Chenle to worship with his hands like he was trying to memorize the shape of him.
And it was working. His skin buzzed under every pass of Chenle’s hands, his chest rising faster now. There was a steady pressure building in him, a growing need, but he reined it in. It wasn’t time for that yet.
The tension spread through his core.
“Like what you see?” Jaemin asked.
Chenle nodded, eyes locked on Jaemin’s body, hands splayed wide over his chest like he wanted to feel his heartbeat.
“Yeah,” Chenle finally whispered. “I really do.”
Chenle leaned in and kissed him deeply again, no hesitation, and Jaemin was taken aback by how much want the other was letting show. His lips were warm, soft, and Jaemin met him willingly, opening his mouth to let him in. Their breaths mingled, tongues sliding together slow and wet.
“You really like being touched, don’t you?” Chenle said against his mouth. His voice had a teasing edge to it now. “You’re kinda into this.”
Jaemin’s head tipped back, exposing the line of his throat. “You get one good kiss in and suddenly you think you’ve got me figured out?”
“Hyung,” Chenle grinned, fingers reaching under the waistband of Jaemin’s pants. “I’m not blind, I can see how worked up you are.”
Ah, so he was bold now that the nerves were gone.
He wanted to snap back and offer a cocky reply, but Chenle’s hands were back on him before he could speak—palms flat, thumbs over over his pecs again, circling, pressing. He tweaked gently, then soothingly rubbed over the sensitive peaks like he’d learned exactly how Jaemin liked it.
Jaemin groaned, hips pushing up, and Chenle grinned wider.
“You do like the attention,” he said confidently, like he was gaining power with each response he pulled out of Jaemin. “That’s cute.”
“Watch it,” Jaemin warned, but it lacked any real threat. He was too busy unraveling, too keyed-up from the weight of Chenle’s hands and the delighted, hungry look he saw there.
Chenle kissed down his neck now, tongue wet against his skin, teeth grazing. Then he went down to his chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the same places he’d touched before.
He paused at one nipple, tongue flicking once, testing. When Jaemin’s stomach fluttered and his hand gripped the couch cushion tighter, Chenle doubled down, sucking lightly, circling with his tongue until Jaemin let out an unguarded moan.
“You're so sensitive here it's insane,” Chenle voiced, and he sounded smug at his discovery. “Damn, I’m gonna remember that.”
Jaemin’s eyes were heavy-lidded now, watching from beneath his lashes. He was supposed to be the one in control here. He had been.
However, the way Chenle was devouring him with eyes and hands and mouth was dizzying. The attention, the praise, the teasing, all of it was rolling over him like heat.
Chenle’s hands drifted lower, tracing the subtle grooves of Jaemin’s abs with his fingertips, and there was a glint in his eye now that was mischievous and knowing. He followed the line down until he was cupping Jaemin over his pants, palm pressing flat over the outline of his cock like he was taking his measurement.
Jaemin inhaled sharply, hips pressing up into the touch before he could stop himself.
Chenle smirked. “You really are full of surprises, hyung,” he said, squeezing lightly. “Is this all for me?”
Jaemin’s head fell back against the cushion. “You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who asked for a lesson.”
Chenle laughed, low and cocky, then leaned in to nip at Jaemin’s jaw. “You’re so worked up,” he said, hand rubbing harder over the fabric. “Bet no one talks to you like this when they’ve got you under them, tense and needy and trying not to squirm.”
That one landed.
Jaemin tried to glare at him and knew it came out weak. It wasn’t denial. Chenle sat back on his knees, palms braced on Jaemin’s thighs, and eyed him up and down like he was deciding what part to unwrap next.
“Take these off,” he said, tapping Jaemin’s waistband. “I want to see.” There was no hesitation in his tone, no blush.
“So bossy now.”
Chenle shrugged. “You’re the one lying there with your shirt off, looking like a fantasy. Don’t play shy now.”
That made Jaemin huff a laugh but he lifted his hips anyway, dragging the waistband of his pants and underwear down together. He kicked them off, then settled back, legs parted, one arm thrown over the back of the couch like he was giving Chenle the best seat in the house.
Chenle’s gaze dropped instantly.
And stayed there.
For a long moment he only stared, spellbound, like he was seeing a sight he’d only dreamed about before. Jaemin watched as Chenle’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and how his pupils dilated. He shifted slightly so he could watch Chenle’s reaction and wasn’t disappointed when his breath caught.
“You gonna keep staring, or are you gonna touch?” Jaemin said, low and teasing.
Chenle licked his lips. “I’m appreciating the view.”
Jaemin’s mouth curved up at the edges. Cocky little brat.
But it got to him, too, being looked at like that, like Chenle wanted to devour him. Jaemin felt as if he was the one being taken in, piece by piece.
Chenle’s hands returned, reverent again, tracing along his thighs, then up to his hips, thumbs brushing where it dipped. He didn’t touch his cock. He was still circling it, tracing the borders like he was teasing himself just as much as Jaemin.
“You’re really something,” Chenle said softly, almost to himself. “Like… fuck.”
Jaemin laughed a bit at that, shakier than before. “Looks like you also find this appealing in practice, not only in theory.”
“Mmm, seems so,” he said, palm settling over him with a confident squeeze.
“You ready to do what you came here for, baby? Show me what I taught you?” Jaemin asked, watching the flicker of surprise and challenge in Chenle’s eyes.
“Not this time.”
Jaemin froze, caught off guard. Not this time? That phrase wrapped around his mind and pulled tight. This time. Like Chenle was already planning a next round, and that thought was sufficient to set Jaemin’s blood humming.
He watched as Chenle’s hands roamed with unabashed curiosity, tracing the outlines of his thighs like he was committing it all to memory; the taut muscles, the soft planes, how Jaemin responded to every touch.
Chenle leaned down, lips dragging along Jaemin’s collarbone, trailing kisses across his chest. His mouth found Jaemin’s nipples once more, sucking and flicking them boldly and Jaemin’s back arched off the couch, a low groan escaping as the pleasure crested.
Chenle’s hand moved with growing confidence, fingers wrapping more firmly around Jaemin’s length. Heat pooled deeper, Jaemin riding high from everything that had come before.
“You’re gonna be patient with me, right?” Chenle asked against Jaemin’s lips, voice playful and with a hint of challenge.
Jaemin smirked. “Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, baby.”
Chenle grinned, bolder and a little brattier now, reaching to press a kiss beneath Jaemin’s jaw before tugging gently on his earlobe with his teeth. His hand moved faster, fingers tightening as his thumb stroked the sensitive tip.
The heat surged suddenly, sparked by Chenle’s daring confidence. Jaemin felt how Chenle’s body pressed more insistently against his thigh, a sure signal that the bold boy straddling him was growing needy again.
“You’re worked up again, baby?” he teased, tilting his head. “Just from feeling me up?”
Without hesitation, Jaemin brought Chenle closer, guiding him up so their bodies flushed completely, chest to chest, skin slick and warm.
“Gonna beg?” he whispered against Chenle’s cheek, not quite kissing, letting his breath ghost there. “Or are you gonna keep pretending you’re not dying for it?”
“Beg?” he scoffed. “You’re the one falling apart like you can’t wait another second.”
Their hands found each other’s, fingers intertwining naturally as they began to stroke together, exploring the shared sensation. Chenle’s hips rolled against Jaemin’s, matching the rhythm of their hands, grinding with an urgency that was both playful and desperate.
Jaemin moaned low, curling his fingers into Chenle’s hair to hold him close. Chenle’s mouth went to his neck, teasing, tracing his tongue over the pulse there and sending sparks straight to his core, then his lips trailed back up, capturing Jaemin’s in a kiss.
“You’re so warm,” he confessed between their mouths, hand firm but continuing to tease, “I could get used to this.”
Jaemin’s heart raced, chest tight with the need he was barely letting show. Chenle didn’t know how deep that need ran, how much he craved to take over completely.
The pace picked up gradually, so gradually that at first, Jaemin didn’t realize how far gone he was. Chenle continued to caress him, fingers finding Jaemin’s nipple again, playing with it as if he were encouraging Jaemin to fall apart for him. It was maddening.
“Fuck—Chenle.”
Jaemin’s fingers clutched at Chenle’s hip, feeling the muscle tremble under his touch as Chenle pressed closer, grinding harder, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through them both.
The room shrank until all Jaemin could sense was the slick glide of skin against skin and the increase of pressure where their bodies met.
Chenle shifted on Jaemin’s lap, watching Jaemin’s face like he was tracking every breath and every muscle twitch.
“You’ve been so good to me today,” he praised, voice syrupy as he leaned in to kiss at the corner of Jaemin’s mouth. “So nice and patient.”
Jaemin turned his head away, biting back a moan as Chenle’s fingers moved just right. “You talk too much,” he managed, but it lacked any heat, especially when Chenle rolled his hips against him, not trying to hide how turned on he was too.
“You feel so good like this,” Chenle moaned.
He pressed slow, warm kisses to Jaemin’s jaw, trailing from the corner of his mouth to below his ear. Each one was a brand, searing and sticky with want.
His free hand cupped Jaemin’s hip, anchoring him there like he was afraid he’d pull away even though Jaemin showed no signs of it. If anything, he was melting, undone beneath every teasing pull of Chenle’s hand and every graze of his lips.
Jaemin could feel the pressure building. That coil wound tighter inside him, fed by the filthy praise Chenle said against his skin and every stroke that felt too good and not enough all at once.
Their cocks pressed together wetly, every ridge and vein of Chenle’s length grinding against Jaemin’s in an almost desperate way. The heat had kept growing between them until it neared its peak, pulsing through Jaemin in waves.
“Chenle—fuck,” he groaned. “You feel—you feel too good,” he gasped, his eyes fluttering shut as his back arched off the couch involuntarily. His free hand tangled in Chenle’s hair to tug him closer, as if it was the only way to ground himself.
The release came hot and fast, the climax punching through him in waves that left him breathless. His entire body shuddered, thighs taut and chest heaving. He barely registered the sound he made as it tore free from his throat, come splashing hotly against his hand.
Chenle stayed with him through it all. He didn’t let go, his hand pressing against Jaemin’s chest, fingers drawing circles over his sides as he talked him through it. “You’re so hot, so good for me, Jaemin—fuck.”
He kissed along Jaemin’s jaw again, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin behind Jaemin’s ear, then down again, mouthing gently at the edge of his collarbone.
Jaemin was still shaking, the edge of release now dulled to a raw ache. His lungs worked overtime, chest rising and falling, and he needed Chenle to come undone as well.
His fingers slid back down to Chenle’s cock, moving slow at first, trying to tease out every pulse and twitch, coaxing Chenle closer to the edge again.
Chenle’s voice was broken now, his earlier bravado bleeding into moans he couldn’t stifle. He arched up into Jaemin like he was chasing every last bit of friction. “Don’t stop,” he gasped. “God, you—fuck, Jaemin, you’re gonna make me come again.”
Chenle let out soft whimpers that grew louder as Jaemin’s hand kept pumping. His hips started to tilt into the motion, trying to keep up with Jaemin’s rhythm.
“Jaemin, ah, fuck—”
Chenle’s fingers clutched at Jaemin’s arm, nails digging in lightly, needing to hold onto him as he trembled. Jaemin's ears were full of the sounds of his whimpering, and he could not get enough of it.
“Come for me. Wanna see you lose it. Wanna feel you—fuck—”
His fingers then moved to grip lightly into Jaemin’s sides, seeking purchase as his body trembled with need. His breath hitched, quick and ragged, whimpers escaping in an unbroken stream as he buried his face in the curve of Jaemin’s neck.
Chenle’s noises grew higher and more desperate, until finally he went slack, melting into Jaemin’s warmth. Jaemin’s fingers tightened around Chenle’s cock, already wet and messy with their shared arousal, catching the warm drip that leaked out and covered his palm.
The slickness glided between his fingers, sticky and smooth, as Chenle finally collapsed over his chest, spent but utterly satisfied.
When he finally blinked his eyes open, Chenle was watching him with that same maddening focus, like he was committing this version of Jaemin to memory too.
Jaemin exhaled a laugh that was hoarse and wrecked and let his head fall back against the couch.
“You’re evil,” he complained.
Chenle laughed at that, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jaemin’s sweaty forehead. “And you let me be.”
“You did good,” Jaemin answered, still breathless as he swept his thumb across the top of Chenle’s thigh. “Guess you’re a quick learner.”
Chenle grinned, lazy and proud, looking down at him from his perch atop his thighs. “Told you I’m full of surprises.”
Jaemin huffed out a laugh. Then, with a tilt of his head, he asked, “You feel okay? With all of it?”
Chenle stretched like a cat, extending his arms dramatically above his head. “Yeah, more than okay. Honestly…” His grin turned smug. “It was more fun than I thought to mess with you.”
Jaemin raised a brow. “Fun?”
“You’re so easy to work up,” Chenle replied, poking at his ribs. “You pretend to be composed, yet it takes like—one little ‘hyung’ and suddenly you’re unraveling.”
Jaemin leaned down and growled into his neck, making Chenle shriek and shove at him. “Brat.”
“I’m your guest,” Chenle said with fake innocence, swatting at him again. “And as your guest, I’m requesting that you fetch me a cloth to clean up with.”
“You’re not polite at all,” Jaemin grumbled, but he was already shifting to get up.
Before he could fully stand, Chenle threw an arm around his waist to hold him in place. “Nope. Payment first.”
“What—”
And then they were wrestling, messy and chaotic, full of limbs and laughter. Jaemin’s hands gripped at Chenle’s sides, pinning him down easily, his weight pressing into him to make Chenle squirm and holler.
“Say please,” Jaemin teased.
“Never!” Chenle kicked, twisting under him, laughing so hard he snorted.
Eventually, Jaemin let up, panting and grinning, pushing himself off the couch with a dramatic groan as he headed to the bathroom. His spine popped audibly as he stretched, arms rising over his head, his shoulders rolling as he worked the tension out from his body. His muscles ached in that good, satisfying way.
Chenle watched unabashedly from the cushions, eyes tracking every movement.
“You know,” he called, his voice thick with amusement, “you look just as good from the back.”
Jaemin glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “Yeah?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”
Jaemin shook his head, smiling as he disappeared down the hallway and Chenle’s laughter followed him, echoing in the quiet like a promise.