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“Jeno!” the familiar, sing-song tune of a voice rang across the street.
Jaemin stands on the other side of the street, all white hair and thin, classic-retro sunglasses. He waves a lithe arm into the air, the other thrown over his shoulder with his perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit jacket. Flashy, as always. The light turns green and Jaemin crosses the distance in his long, slender legs, dark slacks and ridiculously expensive leather shoes.
Late too, as always. Jeno’s jaw clenches, “Mr. Taeil, please don’t bother. He’s here.”
“Good luck, Mr. Lee,” Taeil tightly says over the line, all curt and formal, “We’ll be sealing the place now. Please take care.”
The call ends.
“Nice to see you on a weekend, Jen,” Jaemin chirps, peering at him over his silver-framed shades, his bright and pristine eyes glittering pools of blue and white. Each gleam pierces right into Jeno’s skin. With the stunning way Jaemin’s crisp, blue shirt complements his golden skin, pearl-white hair and sapphire eyes, Jeno doesn’t need to ask to know that he’s planning to have a fun night. A hook-up, more particularly. Jeno’s stomach twists; he doesn’t question that either.
“Where were you? Running errands?” Jaemin smiles that teasing grin of his, “Visiting your lover, perhaps?”
A flash of sharp white teeth and Jeno could already feel another headache coming. Jaemin coming late to their sudden mission is one thing, but seeing that sly beam of his on a weekend, no less, is another.
“That’s none of your business, Na,” tone flat, unyielding, Jeno turns towards the abandoned building, “What you should be worried about is the special grade curse in there that we still have no info about whatsoever. So I suggest we split up to cover more ground. I’ll take west, you take east. We’ll meet in the middle.”
The seal rises. The sky darkens within the bubble, a dark translucent ink and the cool air breezes past their skin. Jaemin throws an arm over Jeno, so quick to reach and touch him just to push his buttons, to pull an even deeper frown out his face, “Getting rid of me already? So soon?”
“Please, I don’t have time for chit-chat,” Jeno nudges him away, ambling towards the specified area in his brown leather shoes, tapping against the cold, hard pavement, “We have our own matters to attend to, so let’s just finish this quickly.”
“I’ll see ‘ya there!” Jaemin chimes with another wave that Jeno doesn’t see. As soon as Jaemin turned on his heel, he glanced back again to shout, “And oh, Jen!”
Jeno pauses.
“Don’t die!”
A pang hits Jeno’s temple. Jaemin tends to have that effect.
“Please don’t call me that,” Jeno firmly says with a push to his green-tinted glasses. Later, he mumbles into the air, “And don’t die either.”
And yet, it’s almost as if Jaemin has heard him. He hears his beam, annoyingly high and bright, hand waving, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in one piece, my sweet Jen!”
The next time Jeno sees Jaemin again, the special grade curse is standing in between them. Its laugh is shrill, distorted, mocking as it tips from side to side. Jeno’s ears ring at the all too familiar sound, lips pulled into a frown with how much he’s heard of it. He had first encountered the curse by the west wing, chased it down the abandoned, near crumbling halls, but was caught off-guard by its release of strong puffs of smoke from its body. Jeno managed to fight through the fog and cornered it in the middle with Jaemin, just like planned.
Jaemin has his glasses perched over his pushed back hair, lips jutted into a thinking pout, “How should we do this, Jaem?”
“Wait. We still don’t know what it’s capable of,” Jeno warns, “Be on guard.”
Humming, Jaemin looks at his ice-blue, platinum watch, “It’s almost 6.” Jaemin parts his legs to stretch, folding his torso to the side, all sharp smiles and sky blue eyes, “We don’t want our beloved Jeno going overtime now, do we?”
Jeno heaves out a sigh, grip tightening around the hilt of his sword, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
There’s a crash. A hit, one after another. And all Jeno could think is how he’s missed this—the thrill, the sheen of sweat that runs over his skin as he takes one breath in and out, the feeling of living, of having Jaemin by his side like this again.
Jaemin is almost an unseen, unexisting entity with how many trips he takes in a week. An enigma, one Jeno has yet to solve, but his puzzling being is just as puzzling as the warmth that ignites in Jeno’s stomach. It had been a while since he last felt this, since he last saw Jaemin, and both his body and heart yearn for that sorry excuse of a sorcerer again.
“Good job, Jen!” Jaemin claps his back, “We should eat out to celebrate! There’s this new bar downtown. It’s been a while since we’ve done that and we deserve it, don’t you think?”
The hand that grazes down Jeno’s back is somehow warmer, almost searing through his white, wrinkled shirt. Jeno bites his lower lip.
“I promise it won’t take a while, just a couple drinks!” Jaemin rests his palm over the small of his back, familiar, friendly enough if it weren’t for the fire brewing deep in Jeno’s belly. “My treat!”
“N-no, thanks,” Jeno stutters, lip red and scarring from the harsh bite of his teeth. He hastily turns around, feeling every end of his nerves coming alive and burning till each puff of smoke hurdles in his lungs. Breathing comes in slow, wretched pulls and pushes. The world spins and everything goes out of place. He doesn’t notice when Jaemin comes to his side, a concerned grip on his arm as his blue eyes widen.
“What’s wrong?”
Jeno shudders at the drawl of Jaemin’s voice, at the thick concern that wraps around his already deep voice. Unconsciously, his hand tightens around Jaemin’s sleeve, a desperate plea, a juxtaposition to the dismissive hiss he makes, “It’s nothing, Na.”
“Jeno, something’s clearly wrong,” Jaemin pulls to better face him, firmer, stubborn as always, “Tell me.”
A warm, lovely tint of red blooms in the apples of Jeno’s cheeks. Its sharp and firm stature contrasting the beautiful pink. Jaemin carefully presses the back of his hand against Jeno’s sweating forehead, “God, you’re burning up, Jen! Why would you even go here if you weren’t feeling well in the first place?!”
“It’s—it’s not that,” Jeno winces at the raise of his voice, ears ringing louder, body burning warmer, as his tongue runs into a million knots. “The cursed spirit, it might be that.”
It takes a long beat for Jaemin to understand. The unusual heat, the sweating, the flushed cheeks. Jaemin glances down at Jeno’s stature and finally notices the growing bulge underneath his slacks. Jaemin takes a quiet guess, “An aphrodisiac?”
“I think so,” panting, Jeno grips Jaemin harder. Thinking becomes nearly impossible for he himself doesn’t even know what he wants anymore. Either to push Jaemin away and leave or keep him here, take in his warmth and everything else he brings, “I don’t really know, just…”
Jeno trails off. Jaemin doesn’t pry any further, head spinning as he thinks of an explanation as to why, when and how. Special grade curses with such powers don’t often appear in this side of town, or in any side of the world, generally. Little do they know about such creatures. Despite that, Jaemin knows enough to assume what the easy way out is. But if Jeno is willing to do so, that he is not sure of either.
“We should call Yuta,” Jaemin suggests, “He’ll definitely know what to do, hold on.”
“No, don’t, please,” Jeno grips at the arm reaching inside his pocket, stopping Jaemin from rooting his phone out. When Jeno looks up again, Jaemin loses all sense of resolve and finds himself falling in the infinite abyss of Jeno’s eyes, clouded with such heady desperation that Jaemin couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. The air between them is charged with something different, but with something familiar, too. A tension that has Jaemin treading in cautious steps.
Teary-eyed, Jeno grits out, “Just, Jaemin… ngh, please.”
Jeno doesn’t know what he’s begging for either, doesn’t know what he’s saying in the first place; he just wants some sort of relief. Anything to ease the scorching heat and pain away. And when Jaemin looks at him like that, cool and pristine eyes piercing into his skin, snow-like hair, Jeno finds himself teetering between the line of solace and frustration.
It’s confusing but at the same time, it all makes perfect sense; Jeno wants—no, he needs more.
“What do you want, Jen?” Jaemin placates, “If you want me to help you, tell me.”
Jeno looks close to tears. Patience thinner, so close to cracking, to breaking that Jaemin almost takes pity. Almost.
“Come on, you can do it, love. We don’t have all day,” Jaemin lightly chuckles, a little mean and a little too good for Jeno. He runs his palm down Jeno’s back again and keens in the way he quivers under his mere touch, “Well, actually, I do. But I’m not sure how long you’d last with that.”
Jeno sinks his teeth into his already red lips. And if it bleeds, Jeno wouldn’t care any less. He’ll bleed over and over again for Jaemin if he has to. Lay his heart bare if that’s what he has to do to take even a sliver of the pain away. Fingers trembling, he murmurs under his breath, “Fuck me…”
“What was that? I don’t think I caught that,” Jaemin leans in for good measure, because he’s the type of bastard who would do that, to revel under one’s anguish. His tone is so sickeningly sweet with faux obliviousness that it has Jeno’s head pounding.
“You’re fucking insufferable.”
Jeno pulls him then. Lips collide, sparks fly and all sense of logic has been thrown out the seal. Jeno kisses in a way unlike any other, hungry and desperate, so out of it that it takes Jaemin’s breath away. The last time they did this, Jeno was gentle, all too sweet and loving that it made Jaemin’s heart skip a beat or two.
Now, Jaemin’s heart stutters in the same, familiar way, but for a whole different reason altogether. He smiles into the kiss, “Good enough.”
Jaemin slides his hand into his pocket, taking out a hotel card in between his thin, slender fingers, “Shall we?”
Jeno doesn’t recall what happened next. The how and why no longer matter when Jaemin’s kneeling before him, the two of them in the room’s hallway and the door may or may not be locked, but Jeno has long lost the ability to care anymore. Not when Jaemin keeps teasing him like this; giving him kittenish licks, blue eyes leering at him as a cold hand wraps around his throbbing cock, his presence’s warmth so good and steady that it drives Jeno crazy.
“Jaem, fuck, don’t tease me, please,” Jeno rests his back against the wall, barely holding up with how weak his knees feel. Special grade curses tend to do that to him, but this one in particular was not like any other. This was like slow, painful torture and the heaven’s blessing altogether. Two different forms of pain and pleasure in the form of Jaemin’s blabbermouth.
“Oh, it’s Jaem now?” Jaemin pulls away, “Not Na, Mr. Na or Jaemin-you-insufferable-pain-in-the-ass?”
There’s a tug to Jaemin’s hair and Jeno seethes, “Put that mouth to fucking work, Jaemin. You can talk shit about me all you want after this, just not now.”
Jaemin seems to be taken aback for a moment. And then he smiles that smile of his again, like it never disappeared to begin with, “Yes, sir.”
The moment Jaemin takes Jeno, there’s a full body shudder that wracks up his spine. Jeno groans in satisfaction, losing himself in the warmth that surrounds him, in the wet and plush press of Jaemin’s tongue against his sensitive skin. The first bob of Jaemin’s head is almost enough to send Jeno toppling over. Jaemin licks at the underside, painting every inch with his spit in such earnest enthusiasm. He laps at the vein under his skin and when he stretches his lips around it, he takes his time to wrap his hand around what’s left and fondles his balls. Jeno’s head hits against the wall, harder this time, which Jaemin soothes with a comforting press to his thigh.
Jaemin drools and sinks even further. He takes and takes till the head of Jeno’s cock presses against the back of his throat and in a fleeting moment, Jeno is everywhere. Jaemin takes in his heady musk and taste, overwhelming all of his senses as Jeno thrusts into him deeper. One push, one pull. Jaemin moans around him and Jeno’s toes curl from the tremors that fizzle into his system.
The aphrodisiac does painful wonders to Jeno; like he’s on a dance with death itself, its claws running at his burning skin, so so close to just bleeding in its grip and yet, everything feels too good, enough to send him in blinding pleasure.
Grunting, Jeno fucks Jaemin’s throat deeper, faster, in more earnest movements till Jaemin’s heart ring in his ears. Pale, quivering fingers tug in his silver hair again and it’s all Jaemin needs to know that Jeno’s coming already. The drawn out groan that reverberates from his throat is enough to make Jaemin keen.
Jeno spills into his mouth and in exhaustion, he falls limp against the wall. His chest heaves over and over with every heavy pant he pushes out. His light blue shirt feels too warm around him and so do his slacks with every stroke of Jaemin’s finger across his own chin. He licks at the white drops of his cum, eyes never leaving Jeno’s as he laps each digit up.
It’s so messy and it’s Jaemin and everything that Jeno absolutely hates and yet, he could feel his dick hardening all over again. Still not enough, his body screams and burns. Jaemin raises a curious brow, “Looks like this’ll take a while.”
Jeno smirks, breathless, “Can you keep up?”
Jaemin’s head throws back from the bark of his laugh, “Hah, you’re asking me?”
In mere moments, Jaemin gathers Jeno into his arms and off his feet. He snakes his arm at the back of Jeno’s legs, the other around his toned back, “You underestimate me, Jeno.”
The second that Jeno’s thrown unceremoniously onto the bed, he knew then he’d be eating his own words—more sooner than later. The way Jaemin leans down to tug at his pants, eyes boring into Jeno’s skin, almost like a snake to its prey, is a stark contrast to the once gentle and languid Jaemin from days ago.
This Jaemin pins him with his cold gaze alone, a sadistic mirth dancing across his eyes as he slowly runs his palm over Jeno’s thigh, “Let’s wait and see who’ll break first, hm?”
Just as Jeno could quip back, there’s a sharp press of teeth into his thigh. Jaemin bites just enough to put Jeno in his place, a warning, before he soothingly licks over it. A glowing red glazes over the pale and toned flesh and Jaemin runs his tongue over his own lip, tempted to leave another. Jeno twitches from the warmth that Jaemin emanates alone, eager to have him closer and feel it press impossibly close against him.
Jaemin seems to hear his pleas, grin widening as he grabs ahold of Jeno’s legs. He pulls and pushes both up, startling Jeno at the sudden display of strength and the wet press to his rim. Jaemin promptly spreads him open and licks over his hole, letting his spit dribble down between his cheeks.
Jeno thrashes in his hold, “Ah! Fuck, Jaemin, wait—”
The grip around Jeno tightens, keeping him in place, as Jeno’s head throws back at the wet, mind-numbing sensation. Jaemin flattens his tongue and keeps licking, sucking, amusement flickering in his blue eyes at the sight of Jeno. A little too out of it with his hair fanning out like a halo against the sheets, cheeks so flushed and lovely, with his gaze blanketed with a hazy sheen of arousal.
“Didn’t you tell me to put my mouth to work?” Jaemin chimes back, pressing an encouraging grip to Jeno’s thigh, “Keep up, babe.”
“Smart ass,” Jeno grits. He thrashes against the sheets again, fists gripping around cotton and the very sheet of his sanity. Jaemin continues sucking him like a man starved, lapping at the taste of spit and Jeno’s intoxicating musk.
Jaemin chuckles, his breath making Jeno twitch, “Was that pun intended, Jen?”
If it weren’t for his current position, Jeno would’ve long kicked Jaemin (he likes the pain anyway and it wouldn’t be the first). Many say Jeno’s a patient man, some even commending him for how long he could put up with Jaemin Na himself, but tonight he holds no ounce of temper for such. Frustrated, his teeth grind onto one another, eyes screwed shut, “Could you just—fucking shut up already, shit.”
“I thought you liked my mouth best when it was wide open,” Jaemin teases with a long and lewd lick to Jeno’s puckered rim. He lolls his tongue, flattening it, leaving a warm, wet trail of his spit that Jeno nearly cries.
When Jaemin wraps a hand around his dick, that’s when the tears finally spring and the moan that rips out his throat is loud enough to make Jaemin wonder if the room next door had heard them. Jaemin pulls away to keep teasing him, but is met with a string of pleas instead, “Jaemin, just please, please, fuck me already.”
Jeno’s voice goes so high and needy that Jaemin couldn’t even believe if this was really him, thrashing, babbling and pleading underneath him, wrecked sobs shaking out of him as he digs his nails into Jaemin’s hand, “It’s too… too hot, hurts so much.”
The pang that hits Jaemin is stronger than any punch or kick he’s received from his own death-defying missions. It happens all at once and suddenly, Jaemin is giving in, surrendering so soon that it feels both right and wrong to do so, “Fuck, okay, okay.”
Jaemin wipes the spit off his chin with the back of his hand, gently lowering Jeno’s legs down, “On your knees then, babe.”
Grunting, Jeno turns over and presents himself to Jaemin. Knees on the bed, back arched, legs spread just enough as he buries his face into the sheets, “Jaem, hurry… need you in me now, fuck, please.”
“Lee Jeno begging for me?” Jaemin presses a slicked finger in him, tone playful, “You flatter me too much.”
Jeno groans at the intrusion, turning his head as his grip tightens around the duvet for his dear life. “Oh, please, don’t let it get into your head, Na. You were the easiest and most convenient option.”
“Oh? You would’ve let anyone fuck you?” Jaemin pushes his finger deeper. “Is that it, Jen?”
Breathless, Jeno nods, his satisfied smirk stretching across his flushed face, “It just so happened to be you.”
Jaemin smiles. A little wicked, Jeno notices immediately. And he doesn’t like it one bit. Jaemin’s tongue darts out to lick his lip, promptly adding another finger into Jeno, harsher, rougher, as he chuckles into the tense air, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
When Jeno whines out from the sting in return, Jaemin nonchalantly hums, “You can say all you want, babe. But I know you love me, you can’t resist me.”
The mocking coo Jaemin makes, the teasing brush of his finger against that sweet bundle of nerves, the very smile he makes that curls like a snake with its prey, all tug at Jeno’s already thin string of patience. Everything hurts, burns, like he’s in the middle of a searing inferno and all Jaemin does is watch him in utter, maniacal amusement.
“Get your head out of your ass, Jaemin.”
“I’ll put it in yours then.”
And then Jaemin’s licking against his rim again. Jeno doesn’t have to turn his head to know that he’s sporting that shit-eating grin of his. Could practically hear it, feel it against his skin. He twitches at the sudden wet velvet press, breath getting caught in his throat as Jaemin goes even deeper. Jeno’s thighs tenses, which Jaemin promptly smooths down with a slide of his palm, thumb soothingly caressing the lean patches of muscle. Gasping, Jeno relaxes again and soon enough, Jaemin’s pressing a finger in as well as he eagerly eats him out.
“God,” Jeno heaves out, at a loss for words as Jaemin keeps licking, sucking, kissing at the sensitive skin.
“Just Jaemin is fine,” Jaemin chimes before pulling away.
The moment the warm, restless tongue left Jeno, he chases after his breath. It still isn’t enough, so far from it, and yet he feels as if he’s ran a mile a minute with how everything is aching. The nerves under his skin have been cackling like fireworks to a pavement, erratically bouncing, scorching every inch of his being. His throat has gone dry enough that he can’t even bring himself to throw a retort at Jaemin.
“Still with me?” Jaemin asks, ripping the rubber’s blue plastic open with his sharp teeth.
Jeno immediately whines, “Don’t.”
Jaemin’s head tilts, both shock and amusement wheedling into his smile, “That’s new.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not everyday I get shitfaced by a special grade, do I?”
The special grade curse did not only draw out Jeno’s arousal, but somehow his sarcasm, too. Different from the usual dull, direct-to-the-point personality of his. But Jeno’s not the type to beg Jaemin to fuck him into the mattress either, so Jaemin wastes no more time in the how and why.
“Point taken. But also, we really ought to do something with that mouth of yours,” Jaemin throws the packet away, paddling towards Jeno on the bed as he takes his own shirt off. With one grip, he pulls at Jeno’s tie and nestles it into his mouth, grinning at the way Jeno easily obliges. “Good?”
Jeno glares at him. Gagged, hard and under at Jaemin’s mercy, and yet Jeno still has the gall to give him that murderous look. Jaemin’s hands find their way back onto Jeno’s back with a light laugh, “Right, can’t talk. My bad.”
One palm down the beautiful arch of his spine, the other pressing onto his hip. A warm, gentle reminder that he’s here; Jaemin isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Jeno lets out a muffled sigh under the touch, spit dripping into his tie and down his chin as Jaemin flips him onto his back.
The display of strength has Jeno’s dick twitching again, head going hazier. With Jaemin’s lithe arms and sleazy grins, it’s easy to forget that he is one of the strongest, if not the strongest, sorcerers out there. He could wipe Jeno out in a blink of an eye if he wanted to; Jeno’s body burning in blue, infernal fires and into insignificant ashes onto the wind. He’s a man beyond Jeno’s powers and imagination and being here, underneath Jaemin and at his mercy, has Jeno’s gut twisting in such a cynical way.
Jaemin leans down and licks a stripe up Jeno’s cock, blue eyes piercing into his—like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. He strokes him into a painful hardness, Jeno almost bursting in the seams as Jaemin keeps teasing him over and over. As if Jeno’s life wasn’t on the line here, as if they had all the time for Jaemin’s amusement.
After all, Jaemin Na is the most egotistical bastard that Jeno knows. What drives him to the wall, both literally and figuratively, is the fact that they both know that Jaemin has every right to be. Jeno’s head thumps against the headboard and with one last stroke around his dick, he comes.
Back arching, grip tightening and toes curling into the sheets. The moan he lets out is more quiet. A shame, really. Jeno’s not very vocal to begin with, which pushes Jaemin into contemplating on whether or not he should pull the gag away.
The answer is given to him on a beautiful, silver platter. Jeno’s distant eyes, his flushed, heaving chest underneath his opened shirt, and the twitch that his dick makes like he hasn’t already come within the last minute, are enough to tear every thought in Jaemin. He reaches out and pulls the tie away, fondly smiling in the way Jeno gasps.
“How are you feeling, babe?” Jaemin marveled.
“Fuck me, Jaem, please,” Jeno says, begs, in between heavy pants, “I—I can’t—ngh—take it anymore.”
Jaemin tugs at his belt, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Jeno has no time to drool in the way Jaemin’s muscles ripple under his golden skin, the way his veins run and throb along his arms, and in the way it strings back to his torso and down the vee of his hips. Jaemin simply pulls Jeno’s legs and throws them over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his calf before aligning himself to his wet, dripping hole.
One breath out and Jeno relaxes around him, inviting Jaemin deeper and deeper inside him with every push in. Jaemin pushes until he’s fully sheathed into him, lower lip caught between his teeth as he reverberates with a stifled groan. Jeno’s so warm, so tight, so good around him. He clenches around Jaemin, body thrumming with how full he feels after what felt like an eternity of waiting.
At the small push of Jaemin into him, another wave of lust takes over Jeno. Nothing but pain and frustration drowning him in. Whining, Jeno folds his legs and pulls Jaemin closer. He wraps a hand around Jaemin’s nape, quickly finding purchase in Jaemin’s snowy hair. This close, he could take in hints of sandalwood, earthy and familiar, covered in the musk of sweat that has Jeno mouthing at his lip. So eager to taste and have Jaemin, blindly kissing and oftentimes missing his lips.
Jaemin chuckles at that, grin even widening at the frustrated whine that Jeno makes. His head’s swimming, his senses overwhelmed, so out of it that he doesn’t even catch what he’s doing before it’s too late.
“Told you, you can’t resist me, Jeno,” Jaemin kisses him properly this time and when Jeno kisses back, with passionate fervor unequal to his, he does nothing but prove his point. “You fuck up in the mission or not, you would’ve still found a way to sneak into my bed tonight.”
Jaemin slowly pulls out, “I know you.”
And then he pushes into him, hard and fast, earning a throaty moan from Jeno as his vision blurs. An uninclined sound that has Jaemin keening, chest swelling with the feeling of being so right, of having Jeno exactly where he wants him, “I know you better than you know yourself, Jeno.”
“Jaem—Jaemin!” Jeno shouts at one harsh thrust, pawing at his shoulders with little effort. The aphrodisiac has him more pliant than ever, his limbs a weak, jumbled mess and he has no other choice but to take it. To take, take, take until the heat lets him otherwise. But with how much his cock’s throbbing when they’ve barely begun, he has a feeling that they have a long, long night ahead of them.
Jaemin pounds into him, ruthless and more than enough to satiate Jeno’s hunger—for now. He rams into him at a brutal pace, hands clutching around Jeno’s hips, tight and bruising. The shirt between their skins barely muffles the sting of Jaemin’s nails, setting Jeno’s body alight at the delicious ache of pain. It grounds him from the unrelenting waves of arousal, keeps him still and pliant for Jaemin to fuck into.
At every brush of Jaemin’s dick against his prostate, Jeno feels like he would burst at any given moment. He digs his nails into Jaemin’s skin and could feel the blood rush as fast as his thrusts, feels it deep inside of him, and perhaps he’ll never stop feeling it with how deep Jaemin is buried in him. He pistons his hips and and pulls Jeno closer, filling him to the brim that it has Jeno hiccuping and trembling.
It doesn’t take long for Jeno to unravel. Jaemin wraps his hand around Jeno’s cock, strokes once, twice, and then he’s spilling warm, brilliant shades of white between them. He moans, freely this time and the sound itself is beautiful, as beautiful as Jeno himself in his flushed, fucked-out state. A tint of red over his sharp cheekbones, his once rigid jaw now opened wide as his face contorts in absolute pleasure.
Scoffing in amusement, Jaemin watches Jeno’s cum drip off his fingers, “Well, that was easy.”
Jaemin moves to grab tissues from the drawer when Jeno folds his legs around him, keeping him in place and pushing him in deeper. The warmth that Jaemin radiates is so comforting that Jeno feels like he’d lose his mind if he moved even an inch away, body refusing anything other than him. He takes Jaemin like the air he breathes, like he’s the only thing that matters in the here and now, “More, Jaemin… more, please…”
Blue eyes twinkle underneath the dim lights, pupils dilating in swirling desire that Jeno nearly loses himself in the tempest. Jaemin chuckles in delighted disbelief, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Jeno.”
Jeno feels himself harden again, “Let’s see who will actually go first if you don’t fuck this out of me.”
“Don’t you worry, babe. I’ve got you,” Jaemin brackets Jeno in between his arms, palms against the sheets as he grinds his cock into him. “We’ll go at it all night if we have to.”
“You better,” Jeno breathes out, a little steadier now than moments prior, “I didn’t work day and night to reach grade 1, only to die from this.”
“That would be a little embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” Jaemin muses against his lips, smiling into the kiss. “If you do die, I’ll keep this little secret to ourselves.”
Jeno’s nose scrunches, “Gee, thanks.”
When Jaemin leans in again, it’s enough to tell him that he’d never let anything happen to him. Curse or not, Jaemin will fight even the heavens just for him. He has him, always. The kiss says the words for them, the eager slides of their tongues and the quiet moans that slip in between. Jaemin is here for as long as Jeno needs him.
Amid the slow, intimate pace they’ve built, Jaemin finds the chance to rock back and forth into Jeno again. But it breaks as quick as it started, with how Jeno’s desperately buckling to meet his thrusts, with how whinier and louder he gets, with how much the arousal’s seeping into his system. The heat gets pushed out of his skin at every thrust, only for more to come out at the pull and drag of Jaemin’s cock against his walls. A delicious friction that has Jeno begging for more, more, more.
Jaemin fills him in every way he can. Pounds into Jeno’s tight, little ass with reckless abandon. Reigns over Jeno’s cloudy mind and holds every thought, every sense, every part of him captive. He keeps thrusting, over and over, until they both groan at the warmth that spills into Jeno.
Panting, Jaemin slightly pulls out and winces at how sensitive he feels already. Jeno clenches around him, whimpering, a silent plea to stay and to do more. Jaemin does as he’s told, pushing into Jeno again and his cum spills out of him, dripping into the already ruined sheets. When he rocks into him again, Jaemin’s head throws back at the overwhelming sensation.
“You always feel so good around me, Jen—fuck, you’re perfect,” Jaemin rambles as the heat from Jeno’s body gets into him too, “I love when you’re like this, all laid out for me. Like you were made for this, made to take dick and nothing else.”
“Ngh, one…” Jeno gasps, “One more, Jaem, I can take it, hurry.”
Jaemin hums, low and dark as his hands roam up Jeno’s legs, “Yeah, I’ll give you everything you want, Jen.”
Jeno seems too out of it to even understand, just fidgeting under Jaemin’s touch. He feels sensitive all over, like every caress is tickling and biting at the same time. Brows drawn to frustration, Jeno starts tugging at the front panels of his shirt, “Hot.”
Clumsy hands fumble with the buttons, only for the shirt to come apart under Jaemin’s. One harsh tug and it rips open. Jeno sighs in relief, more so at the way Jaemin lifts him up and pulls the shirt away from him. Carefully, he lands back to the cool sheets again and the warmth eases just slightly.
Jeno paws at his tie next, but Jaemin stops him, “Keep it on.”
A small, confused sound is all Jeno could manage. When Jaemin pulls out, his confusion only deepens. Jaemin turns him to his stomach, pressing feather-like kisses up his spine, fingers worshipping every patch of skin it touches, “It’s cute.”
Jeno makes an indignant noise, attention melting away as he focuses on nothing but seeking pleasure and pleasure only. When Jaemin leans away, he plants his knees on the bed and arches his back, presenting himself to Jaemin with a muffled groan into the pillows. Just as Jeno could bark another, “Jaemin, get on with it!” he feels a tight press to his neck. The tie pulls him back, meeting Jaemin’s cock half-way, cutting his breath into a dizzying state.
Jaemin grins, “Makes it easier to do this, too.”
When Jaemin finally releases his hold, Jeno falls onto the mattress with a gasp. He crumbles, melts, as Jaemin thrusts into him again. Builds a pace so harsh and frantic that Jeno could barely hold himself up. The grip around his tie doesn’t pull this time, but it’s there and it’s sending Jeno into heights he’s never reached before.
Everything feels too much and not enough altogether; like the relentless pounding of Jaemin’s cock in him could break him, but at the same time, it is far from what he wants, what he needs, what he craves for. He whines into the sheets, fisting around the fabric as Jaemin uses him.
“Fuck, this is what you wanted, right?” Jaemin grunts, “Did you make that rookie mistake on purpose, too? Wanted to have me and use you like this?”
Jaemin alternates between quick thrusts and grinding circles into him, the pace almost mocking. Everytime Jeno felt like he was coming, Jaemin would slow down and litter him with kisses. Soft pair of lips pressing against him, a stark contrast to the animalistic thrusts that follow right after. Jaemin drills into him with so much insatiable vigor and hunger, almost as if he was the one under the influence with his eager pounding and his tight grip around him. Jeno moans at each one and could practically feel his gut rearranging as he gets shoved into the mattress.
The room fills with the sounds of their skins slapping into one another, with Jeno’s wrecked moans and Jaemin’s low groans, “You barely make mistakes, Jen. What makes you think I believe that this one was?”
Jeno whines, head following back as Jaemin tugs on the tie again. A little too harsh, printing into Jeno’s skin. And yet, the thought of Jaemin leaving marks does nothing but spur him on. It makes his cock twitch and his legs close to collapsing underneath him so Jaemin could grab him by his waist again, manhandle him into place, and fuck him to a deeper level of exhaustion.
“You’re nothing but a cumslut, aren’t you?” Jaemin gripes, wrapping the tie’s excess length around his hand before shoving Jeno down by his nape, “My cumslut. So good for me, so perfect.”
“Unh, Jaemin” Jeno drools onto the sheets, eyes crossed and body so pliant, “Harder, please—!”
“I’ll give it to you, Jen,” pressing closer, Jaemin leans down to Jeno’s ear, “I’ll give it to you till you’ll never think of making another mistake like this again.”
When Jeno whimpers weakly, it makes Jaemin quirk an amused brow, “Unless you want to?”
Jeno buries himself deeper into the pillows, turning his face away from him, which elicits a hearty laugh from Jaemin, “You know, you can always give me a call, Jen. I’ll fuck you anytime, anywhere, babe.”
A tug to his hair has Jeno facing Jaemin again with a wince, throat closing under the bright, wild look of Jaemin’s eyes, “Is that what you want, Jeno? Keep slipping up till I have no choice but to clean your mess?”
Jeno abruptly locks their lips together, licking across Jaemin’s before biting it down. Jaemin leans back, more out of amusement than shock, as his tongue swipes across the bitten flesh, “I don’t mind.”
Jaemin molds himself onto Jeno’s back like he can’t get enough of him. His hands roam across and down Jeno’s chest, teasing the peddled nubs for a moment before reaching around his cock, giving it full, slow strokes.
Jaemin’s raspy voice ghosts into the shell of Jeno’s ear, a lingering promise, “Come at me with every silly excuse you have, babe. I’ll indulge you for as long as I can.”
And indulge he does. Jeno doesn’t remember much after coming for the third time. It’s a blur, cut scenes and flashes, of Jaemin fucking him in every position he could think of. He remembers Jaemin pulling him by his tie again, if the stinging pain around his neck was anything to go by, and coaxing him into riding him. It’s in the way Jeno’s thighs ache and throb.
He remembers being carried in Jaemin’s strong arms and being pressed against the wall, all too loud and too hard that Jeno now winces at the possibility that the room next door heard them. He remembers being folded, bent over in every space that Jaemin found, pushing him down with one firm hand as the other stroked him to completion. He remembers being too tired to shower so Jaemin had picked him up again, promising not to do anything else within the tiled room, only to break said promise within minutes. Though, Jeno doesn’t remember protesting once Jaemin’s hand had wandered more than necessary.
The rest, a complete and utter blur. All Jeno knows is they definitely overdid it and he might have to take a day or two off of work. He huffs underneath the clean, fresh out of room service duvet and throws it over himself completely. Jaemin, fast asleep beside him, quietly stirs and moves next to him. He throws an arm over Jeno, palm sliding down his back to bring him closer.
Jeno is about to reprimand him when he sees the look of exhaustion over him. Mouth agape with spit dribbling down his chin. Jaemin looks like he could sleep till the next weekend and Jeno is to blame. Sighing, Jeno surrenders and keeps him close, closer.
The beating of Jaemin’s heart and his low snores are something akin to a lovely lullaby, if not better. His body wraps around Jeno like a warm fire on a snowy Christmas evening, warm and calm.
Sleep has nearly taken him completely when he hears a knock on the door. Jaemin snorts before jolting awake, grumbling incoherently as he takes off. Eyes heavy and voice groggy with exhaustion, Jaemin slightly opens the door and another is heard.
“Are we still up for tonight?”
“Yeah, about that…” Jaemin takes a sheepish breath in, “Change of plans. My co-worker needed help with something and we were out all day. I’m really sorry, I just want to knock out for the rest of the night.”
“Next time then?”
Jaemin pauses, which is odd on itself because Jaemin never hesitates. “We’ll see.”
A lie. Jeno knows that much. The door shuts and he hears the muted paddle of feet towards him, closer and closer until he feels the spot next to him sink again. The warmth familiar, the embrace that engulfs him even more. Jeno contemplates whether to ask or not, to leave and apologize for being the star of amateur hour or to stay.
A beat passes. Jeno takes the risk, “Jaem.”
Jaemin sleepily hums back, “Mhm?”
For a moment, Jeno is without words. Without coherent thought or anything. The silence stretches into a thin, awkward line before Jeno could even decide, “Why’d you help me?”
And there it goes again. Uncomfortable silence that neither of them are used to when they’re around each other. Jaemin mumbles, “Because.”
“What?”
“It was just like you said,” Jaemin shrugs, sighing as he pulls Jeno into his arms, “I was the easiest, most convenient option.”
“Well. Practically speaking, yes, you were. But you had a choice,” Jeno says and it’s enough to tell Jaemin that the aphrodisiac has worn off. Back is the blunt Jeno, safe yet stubborn in his arms, “You could’ve said no.”
“Now why would I do that?” Jaemin’s lips dance into an amused smile, “We’ve fooled around a few times, Jen. You’ve went overtime with my throat more times than I could count. I don’t see what the problem is with this time.”
Jeno punches him on the shoulder for that. Jaemin laughs, not apologetic at all.
And that was all it was. Another night of bad decisions, mistakes and shitty jokes in bare bodies, but heavily veiled souls. Jeno ignores the way his heart sinks into his stomach, draining him of every light and hope, until all he can manage is a bitter smile that goes unseen from the darkness that he calls his home. Defeated for the second time that night, he weakly hums, “Right.”
Jaemin forces a grin, sliding a hand that speaks against every word they’ve uttered. Neither of them notice.
“I always am.”
—
“It was a lot more complicated than we thought,” Dr. Yuta, the school’s licensed doctor, announces through the other end of the phone.
Two weeks later, Jeno is in another location for a new mission and he keeps his eyes fixated on another abandoned building. He taps against his car’s steering wheel, “What do you mean?”
“It was a special grade curse, so it had the power to tweak its technique. The aphrodisiac it released—it’s one that draws out its victim’s inner desires, even unconscious and subconscious ones. And it won’t stop for at least 4-5 hours.”
Jeno leans back into his chair, waves of memories from that night washing over him unsolicited. It felt like the hours stretched into an eternity or two during that one wretched night. Jaemin’s annoying teasing was only one of the things to blame. But at the same time, gratitude blooms in his chest as he sighs out, “Lucky Jaemin was there, huh.”
“Here comes the tricky part,” Dr. Yuta wheels through his clinic, scanning through files again as he presses his phone between his ear and shoulder, “We found out from previous reports that its victim wouldn’t just let anyone satiate their arousal, but only someone they have a deep connection with. Love, lust and admiration are a few factors. So if you didn’t feel anything for Jaemin, you wouldn’t have let him do anything to you either. He wouldn’t be enough.”
Silence.
“Are you okay, Mr. Lee?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” Jeno could really use a warm towel over his eyes right now to ease the freefall his stomach did and the erratic beating of his heart. Why him? hangs at the tip of his tongue and yet, at the same time, it felt absolutely right. “Just don’t tell Na anything we discussed today.”
Dr. Yuta fumbles with the phone, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Lee.”
“What?” Jeno’s forehead creases. “Why not?”
“My sweet Jen!” Jaemin chimes into the phone. There’s a faint shout that sounds exactly like Dr. Yuta in the background, but Jaemin uses his cursed technique to set an invisible wall between them. Jeno could practically hear his beam through the tiny speakers, Jaemin’s smile wide, “I always knew you had a thing for me! Tell me where you are right now and we’ll go for another round of hot, steamy, love making, what do you say?”
Jeno deadpans, “Goodbye.”
Just as Jeno could keep his phone and slide out the car, he hears a rumble and feels the ground shake. There’s a blinding flash of purple light and the next thing Jeno knows is Jaemin’s knocking at his window, sharp grin in place.
“You up for another mission together, Jen?”