Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Wow, there’s padding in here." Jaemin marvels in wonder, tapping at the soft cushions of Jeno's black shorts.

"Yeah, these are cycling shorts. It makes sitting much more comfortable." Jeno beams as he explains, folding each freshly washed pair into the basket. 

"Should I get one too?" Jaemin hums, fingers pressing into the padding. He can't seem to stop doing it- it's addicting. 

"You can take mine." Jeno shrugs. 

"Wow, really?" Jaemin looks up with wide eyes, and Jeno wonders why Jaemin is so surprised every single time. 

"Yeah, we share everything, don't we?" Jeno sounds confused, gesturing to the mint hoodie he's practically swimming in. 

"Well, no take backs! This baby is mine now!" Jaemin grins, twisting his back to hug his new cycling shorts possessively. He pats it fondly, cooing at it. 

"As if I have anything that isn't yours." Jeno snorts at the display, but there's a soft smile on his face as he shakes his head.

He folds up the last pair neatly and closes the basket. “So how about we try them out this weekend?”

"You have a love for torture." Jaemin deadpans.

"Cycling is not torture, Jaemin." Jeno frowns.

Jaemin stares at him.

"You'll grow to love it." Jeno grins, unfazed.

"Is that so?" Jaemin raises a brow.

"Is that a challenge?" Jeno mirrors his expression, eyes twinkling.

"It's sarcasm." 

Jeno barks out a laugh, bright and bubbly. Jaemin softens, helplessly endeared.

"Well, who knows? Maybe you'll change your mind." Jeno grins, nose scrunching up as he picks up his basket.

"Oh, and by the way, don't wear any underwear under those shorts. They'll chafe." Jeno waves over his shoulder as he walks away just like that, as if he didn't just drop a bomb on Jaemin. 

…

Jaemin can't stop thinking about it. 

He hasn't even been able to touch his black pair of cycling shorts ever since. He doesn't trust himself. 

He's rejected Jeno on four counts after their short banter the other day, and Jaemin can tell that Jeno's starting to feel restless. The puppy eyes following him everywhere he goes only makes him feel even more guilty. But he can't possibly agree to it- not when even the mere thought about it has him popping a boner. 

In hindsight, he probably brought it upon himself. 

"I'm going cycling with Donghae-Hyung." Jeno announces as he carries his bicycle out the door. 

Jaemin almost choked when Jeno first changed into his biking gear, strutting around the room in those tight black shorts. Jaemin's sweatpants weren't tight at all, but it was starting to feel like it, especially when Jeno bent forward to pick up his shirt. 

Jaemin had thought that Jeno was going to bike alone, as he used to when Jaemin didn't want to go, so it was a bolt out of the blue, leaving Jaemin stunned. 

"...What?" 

"I'm going to bike with Donghae-Hyung today. So I'll be back late." Jeno repeats, staring at Jaemin a little strangely. 

"Why are you cycling with him?" Jaemin cringes from his own question, acutely aware of how accusing he sounds. 

"Why not?" Jeno makes a small sound of confusion.

"Why didn't you ask me instead?" Jaemin presses, feeling a little betrayed.

"I did." Jeno replies with a pout.

Oh, Jaemin realizes, yes, he did. Two days ago, in fact, and Jaemin had said no. Again. 

"I'll see you later then," Jeno gives him a small wave before leaving Jaemin alone in the living room of their dorm, unaware of the jealousy and regret whipping up a storm within him.

…

He sees the pictures online before Jeno comes home. 

His crotch is artfully hidden, but the biking shorts wrap tight around his thighs. Jaemin traces the muscular veins on it with a longing sigh, and jealousy grips him hard, choking him from the inside as he regrets it so much.

It should have been him beside Jeno, him taking the photos. Jaemin doesn't realize how hard he's gripping his phone until he notices how his knuckles have turned white.

He crops the photo masterfully and saves it.

...

"Oh Jeno, you're back! How was your day with Donghae-Hyung?" Renjun smiles.

Jaemin perks up at the mention of him, and his throat dries as soon as he sees him.

Jeno looks unbelievably sexy- sweat-stained shirt clinging to his skin and those frustrating black shorts hugging his hips. Jeno takes off his helmet, carding his fingers through his hair, and he looks so hot with his bangs brushed back, forehead shining.

And then he takes his sunglasses off, revealing the cutest set of half-moons as he positively beams. 

"It was really fun. We cycled a lot today. More so than my usual." Jeno grins, and Jaemin can tell that he's exhausted, but there's a liveliness in his bright eyes, and an obvious sense of satisfaction that hasn't been there for weeks. 

Jaemin doesn't want to hear the rest, slinking back into the comfort of his room quietly. He wishes he was the one who put that look on Jeno's face, but the fact that he could have made it much worse. At the end of the day, it was Donghae who did it, not him.

He really needed to get it together. 

"...Jaemin?" 

Jeno's voice startles him.

"You okay? You just left, all of a sudden." Jeno asks gently, approaching him from behind. The obvious worry in his voice only makes Jaemin feel worse. 

"It's nothing." Jaemin tries to shake him off.

He's not surprised it doesn't work.

"It's not nothing, if you look like that." Jeno frowns, shifting to cup Jaemin's face in his hands. He tilts Jaemin's chin up gently, but Jaemin doesn't look at him, glaring at the floor.

"What's wrong, Jaemin?" Jeno asks softly, concern laid bare in his eyes and voice, up to his long fingers now rubbing comforting circles under Jaemin's jaw.

"I didn't know you were seeing other guys." Jaemin mumbles weakly.

"But the only people I see are you, the members and Donghae-Hyung." Jeno splutters, slightly flustered. 

Jaemin doesn't say anything else.

"Is this about me cycling with Donghae-Hyung?" Jeno murmurs, tickling his chin.

Jaemin can't help the small smile tugging at his lips as he playfully bats Jeno's hand away. 

"No, I just missed you today." Jaemin doesn't know where he got the courage to say what he feels, but he decides to go with it. “Go with me next time.”

"Sure." Jeno agrees easily, ruffling Jaemin's hair. 

(It gets him what he wants.)

…

Jaemin stares at the pair of shorts on his bed. 

Jeno said he could take it, and really, he has so many, they're all from the same brand, the exact same type. Jeno has worn it before. He has slipped on this exact pair of shorts without his underwear on, and Jaemin is about to do the same.

His dick twitches with interest, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he decides to just get on with it.

It's tight. 

It cups well around his crotch, and the padding feels a little strange, but overall Jaemin thinks it's quite nice actually, fitting and snug around his thighs. 

An erection would be really obvious in these. Jaemin puts on his largest shirt, and is grateful it hangs low enough to cover any possible accidents that could happen. 

"Jaemin! Are you ready?" Jeno grins, linking their arms together as he pulls Jaemin out the door.

Jaemin shakes his head with a smile, maybe it will be okay.

…

It is not okay. 

It is so not okay, because Jeno looks as hot as he always is, all strong shapes and hard muscles. Sweat drips down his jaw, and he's panting. Jaemin wonders if he sounds like this when he's fucking or being fucked. Jaemin would kill for either.

He tries to shake off all his horny thoughts, but it's almost impossible now that he knows about the secret of those damned cycling shorts. He feels exposed with only this thin elastic covering him, and knowing that Jeno is in the same thing, with nothing under, sends a hot surge of arousal through his veins. 

Jaemin can't help but stare at Jeno's butt. He doesn't know how to describe it, but it's just knowing that if he pulls down those shorts, he'll be able to fuck him just like that. It's like Jeno went commando, and the thought drives him insane. 

He's been half-hard for a while now, cycling his frustration away, and his mind is in turmoil- he wants a break. But that would mean seeing Jeno's firm torso, and lower, lower to those tight shorts, and he is sure his eyes will stray. He really wants to see it, but at the same time, he dreads it.

It's inevitable, as they stop by the convenience store for a break. Jaemin thinks cooking will distract him for a bit, but Jeno wraps his arms around his waist, resting a head on his shoulder as he peeks at the Ramyeon Jaemin is making.

He's too close. Jaemin can feel something pressing up behind him, and his back is warm, they're sweaty, and it should feel gross, but it doesn't. Jaemin wants to lean into him, grind his hips against him. It's not enough.

He almost lets out a whine when Jeno pulls away, the emptiness clawing at him as he stops himself from chasing after him. His sweaty shirt is cold and gross again, and Jaemin burns his finger on the aluminum foil.

He hates the way Jeno blows on it tenderly, lips curved and wet. He wants to shove his fingers in, prod at his tongue, wants to kiss him so hard he sounds like he does after they cycle up a hill. 

He extracts his finger, brushing it off, and Jeno follows the shift in topic easily, going along with Jaemin as he always does. 

...

Jaemin is fresh and comfortable after a cold shower, hair damp as he plops onto his soft mattress. His muscles are sore from cycling, and he feels as if he could sink into his bed, down, down and under.

"Dry your hair before you sleep." Jeno wrinkles his nose, "You always nag at me saying I'll catch a cold if I don't, but what about you?" 

Jaemin huffs, but makes no other move to get up.

"Jaaemin," Jeno whines. "Dry your hair." 

When he doesn't reply to him, Jaemin hears a sigh. There's a shuffle as Jeno walks over, and rough, calloused fingers close around his wrists. Then there's a weight between his thighs, bed dipping as Jeno plants a knee on the bed, pulling Jaemin up. 

Jaemin's eyes shoot open as he's pulled forward, a startled yelp as he's forced to sit up. But Jeno must have miscalculated his strength, oblivious to his muscle mass, and Jaemin barely stops himself from face planting right into Jeno's crotch. 

His crotch, that's clad in those sinful black cycling shorts, that's all Jeno is wearing. That's so tight Jaemin can vaguely make out the curve of his cock, that's hugging him in all the right places Jaemin can see where his inner thighs stretch the dark material. 

He's so close he can almost feel the heat emanating from Jeno's junk, can smell the sweat and musk seeping out from the thin fabric, and Jaemin can't help it. He sniffs.

Jeno makes a strangled sound from above, and Jaemin jerks back as if burnt. Mortified, Jaemin's brain shuts down, ears flaming red as he tries and fails to excuse himself. 

Jeno backs away from the bed, cheeks flushed as he turns away, and Jaemin thinks this is it. This is how he officially fucked up whatever he has with Jeno, and he's just ruined their 8-year-long friendship because he couldn't just dry his own goddamn hair when Jeno first asked him to.

So he doesn't expect it at all when a loud whirr shocks him, hot air hitting him square in the face. 

Jeno chuckles, but the sound is drowned out by the loud hum of the hair dryer. Jaemin barely catches it with his eyes before squeezing them shut as Jeno angles the machine to his wet hair. 

Slender fingers card through his hair, rubbing away the wet droplets and massaging his scalp. It's not the first time Jeno has helped him dry his hair, and Jaemin would relax if not for the fact that he's still facing Jeno's front.

If he wrenches his eyes open right now, he could see Jeno's hips and crotch, even if he aimed a little lower, he would be granted a delicious view of those slim, muscular thighs, calves and all too suddenly, Jeno's fingers are anything but soothing.

He feels over-sensitive, acutely aware of Jeno's fingers rubbing and pressing at his scalp, and it's like his head has become one large erogenous zone. Jaemin can feel himself getting hard.

Jeno's left hand slips down to the base of his ears, rubbing just right , and Jaemin lets out a low moan, eyes rolling back behind his eyelids as he positively shivers.

He bites his lips in shock, eyes flying open but Jeno simply guides his head down so he can dry the back of Jaemin's head. He probably didn't hear it, Jaemin reassures himself, as the deft fingers continue their insufferable ministrations. 

From this angle, Jeno can't see his face with the way Jaemin's head is hanging low. It's the opportunity of a lifetime, so Jaemin wets his lips, gulping as he looks his fill.

He feels like a pervert, and a deep part of him scolds him to stop, but it's… enchanting. He feels bewitched, memorizing every dip and curve of Jeno's smooth thighs, the black fabric showing up on the milky softness of them, the volume packing around his junk, and then Jeno's fingers slip to the very base of his neck, squeezing, and Jaemin gasps, thighs clenching as he arches his back.

The hair dryer stops. 

Jaemin sits up, ramrod straight. His ears are on fire, and he can only hope that his face isn't as red as how hot it feels. 

"I'm done." Jeno clears his throat, setting the hair dryer down. 

"Y-yeah." Jaemin nods blankly.

"I'll go shower then." Jeno grabs a towel from the rack, and Jaemin tries his best to keep his eyes from straying down as Jeno walks away.

"Thanks." Jaemin's voice cracks. 

"Uh, don't sleep with your wet towel on." Jeno tosses him a hanger, which Jaemin fumbles to catch, and then he's gone. 

The door closes with a hurried click, and Jaemin finally realizes that his miserable attempt to cover the tent in his boxers did little to hide anything at all.

He throws a cursory glance at the shut door, and waits one, two minutes before getting rid of all his inhibitions, spreading himself comfortably onto his bed. 

Taking a deep breath, Jaemin lets his hand dip down below his waistbands, groaning softly as his fingers curl around his hard shaft. Jeno usually takes quick showers, so he would have to finish as soon as possible, but he knows it won't be a problem with how turned on he is. He's already so wet he doesn't even need lube or spit, smearing precum all over his dick as he begins to stroke himself- hard and fast. 

It's a race against time. The door isn't locked, it would be more suspicious if it was, and somehow, the knowledge that Jeno could come in anytime and see him like this, fisting his cock out in the open as Jaemin shudders out his name in a breathless moan, has Jaemin bucking his hips up desperately, pleasure coiling low in his gut.

Jeno, with his wet hair slicked back, skin still moist from his shower, smelling like sea salt and ocean breeze. Maybe he would crawl onto Jaemin's lap, straddle him as he jerks them both off. Or maybe he would drop down to his knees, pink lips falling open as he lets Jaemin fuck his throat to completion.

Maybe he was just as aroused as Jaemin, jacking off in the shower right now, letting the patter of water drown out the sound of-

*thump!*

Jaemin's eyes shoot up to the door as he hears a clatter from afar, and he panics. The right thing to do would be to stop now, but he's so close, too close, that the thought of stopping now is enough to blur his vision, tears welling up in his eyes. 

So he doesn't stop.

The footsteps grow louder and louder, and the room is suddenly all too quiet, his slick noises much too loud. Maybe Jeno forgot something, maybe he left his shirt or his towel, and maybe he hasn't even showered- still clad in his cycling shorts with no underwear-

"Fuck." Jaemin groans, picking up speed as he arches his back and clenches. 

It's embarrassingly quick- he's so wound up that all it takes is a few more tugs and the image of Jeno's crotch through those impossibly tight shorts, and Jaemin is coming with a shuddering gasp, toes curling as white hot pleasure flares down his back. 

It takes him a few minutes to collect himself, breathless from his mind-numbing orgasm. He hasn't come that hard in a long time, and there's so much of it, all over his hands and chest. 

He's still dazed from post-coital bliss when he hears the door click.

Alarmed, he throws a blanket over himself.

Jaemin hears the soft thump! of footsteps as Jeno pads his way over, and he holds his breath, eyes screwed shut as he pretends to be asleep.

He can feel the drops of water dripping from Jeno's wet hair onto his bed as Jeno stops in front of him. Briefly, Jaemin is sure that Jeno can hear the loud thudding of his heart, thunderous to even his own ears. Fortunately, his acting must be convincing enough when Jeno simply leans in to turn the lamp off. 

Jaemin releases a breath as Jeno finally slips away, the soft ruffling as he towels his hair fading as he leaves. 

The cooling cum is starting to stick to his skin, and frankly, it's as uncomfortable as it is disgusting. He'll have to do laundry tomorrow.

Inwardly, Jaemin groans. 

...

It's almost Pavlovian now, the way Jaemin's cock starts to fill whenever Jeno announces that he's going to shower after they come home from biking. 

It can't be a good thing, and distantly, Jaemin is aware of how fucked he is. But he can't stop doing it, not when it gives him such intense orgasms each time. There's a twisted pleasure he earns from doing something so wrong , so filthy, and it has him coming back to this- flat against the bed as he jerks off to his best friend's cock. 

He doesn't even know if he wants to get caught or not anymore- if he wants Jeno to walk in on him like this, wants Jeno to see him so hot and bothered and uninhibited all because of him . He's toeing the line now, mind hazy as he's quickly approaching his climax. He can feel the familiar tingle in his spine, ears starting to white out the noises around him as his eyes roll back. 

Faintly, he hears footsteps coming closer and closer, and really, it's the fear, thrill and anticipation that finally pushes him over the edge. 

He's still shaking from the force of his orgasm when the door flies open, and Jaemin can't recover quick enough to cover himself in time. Jeno freezes by the door, expression almost comical as he takes in how debauched Jaemin looks, feels. 

"I'll… come back later." Jeno gulps, biting his lip as he moves to close the door. 

Maybe if Jeno had come in a minute later, or even just five seconds after, Jaemin would have reacted like a normal person who got walked in on masturbating. However, Jeno came in just as the endorphins started to kick in, so Jaemin hasn't registered that Jeno is real and actually standing there. 

Jaemin, in his pleasure-addled haze, also has zero shred of decency and even less brain to mouth filter, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. 

"Ah, could you get a wet cloth on your way back?" Jaemin slurs, mind still foggy from post-coital bliss. "I think we ran out of tissues." 

"...Yeah. Yeah, sure." Jeno chokes a little, coughing as the door clicks shut.

"...!"

Jaemin jolts upright instantly, eyes wide as saucers as reality finally hits him square in the chest.

What the fuck did he just do? 

The cold air of the room is suddenly too chilly, goosebumps rising in his skin as he realizes the gravity of the situation. 

There is nothing he can do to erase today's ordeal from their memories. The humiliation and panic hits him all at once, horror snaking up his gut as he buries his face in his hands.

And gets cum on his cheek because his right hand is covered in it. Right as the door swings open. Right as Jeno steps back in with a damp rag in his hand.

Jaemin wants to cry. 

Jeno sucks in a deep breath as he gives Jaemin a slow once-over. He clears his throat, closing the door gently behind him before making his way to the bed. Jaemin can't even look at him properly, with drying cum on one eye. 

This is quite possibly the most humiliating moment of his life, but Jeno doesn't say anything, wordlessly lifting the cloth and dabbing gently at Jaemin's eyes, wiping the cum off his nose and cheek.

"I can do it." Jaemin croaks out weakly, wincing as he feels a dribble of cum slide down his balls.

"Let me." Jeno replies, voice gravelly, and Jaemin shuts up obediently, letting Jeno clean him all up.

"Can I?" Jeno's eyes trail down. 

Jaemin gives the barest of a nod, and his face feels like a furnace. 

Jeno slides the cloth across Jaemin's chest, going lower and lower, past the dip of his V-line. With every swipe, a cool trail of dampness follows. Jaemin shivers.

Jeno wipes him down to his slit, gentle and skillful as Jaemin quivers from oversensitivity when he cleans the remaining drops off the head of his cock. 

Jaemin doesn't know what to say, or what to do as Jeno wordlessly chucks the rag into the bin. He doesn't know what this means for them, what's even happening. 

They need to talk about this. Heck, Jaemin hasn't even confessed. Does this even count as a confession? Jaemin can't even tell what's up or down anymore as he slowly loses himself in a sea of dark thoughts. 

The silence drags on uncomfortably, and a jumble of "I'm sorry"s and "I love you" roll on the tip of Jaemin's tongue, threatening to spill. But he doesn't say anything, for fear it becomes, "I'm sorry I love you." 

He's scared he'll mean it.

In the end, it's Jeno who breaks the silence as he stands up with his back turned.

"I need another shower." Jeno declares, as if he hadn't just come back from one.

Jaemin doesn't say anything, staring passively as Jeno leaves. He doesn't want to think about the implications of Jeno's statement, and doesn't want to get his hopes up. But as he eventually falls asleep that night waiting for Jeno to come back, he kind of wishes he did. 

…

They don't talk about it.

At least, not that night. Jeno doesn't come back before Jaemin drifts off into a fitful sleep, and he isn't there when Jaemin wakes up to dark curtains keeping the afternoon rays away.

Jeno didn't wake him up. 

The revelation scares him more than Jaemin would like to admit, and he doesn't want to consider how much he fucked up yet, but it's dawning on him anyways, irregardless of his feelings. 

He wishes he could turn back time and make sure this all never happened. He doesn't want to go out, afraid of facing the consequences. But they have afternoon practice, and Jaemin can't skip it. Won't skip it, because he's a professional. (He can't avoid Jeno forever anyways.)

So he drags himself out of his bed, staring miserably at the empty bed beside his', and braces himself for the new worst day of his life. 

Strangely, nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Jeno's sitting beside Jisung in the kitchen when Jaemin treads out, and Renjun greets him good morning. Jeno looks up at him and smiles.

The relief that hits him is so palpable Jaemin feels his knees grow weak. He takes a seat beside Renjun, and Jeno hands him a plate. 

They're eating hot pot for lunch, and it was an oddly… normal affair. Jeno didn't avoid him at all, and there was no awkward tension in the air. As if nothing ever happened. 

Was it just a dream…? Jaemin wonders dazedly, as Jeno kicks him playfully under the table.

It doesn't matter, Jaemin decides. As long as they are fine, Jaemin can deal with it. Jeno had only walked in on him cumming after all, didn't hear him gasping his name out loud, didn't know he was jerking off to the thought of him and living in a dorm with so many other guys, Jaemin rationalizes, it wasn't that uncommon an experience after all.

Jeno doesn't know how he feels. The thought doesn't relieve him as much as he imagined it would. 

Jaemin pushes it all to the back of his mind as he acquecies, giving in to the urge to play footsie with Jeno under the table. They end up hooking ankles as Jaemin peels a hardboiled egg for him, and life goes on without a hitch.

Except it does not.

Jaemin doesn't understand if it's his own lust clouding his brain, or if Jeno is just being… uncharacteristically touchy . 

Jeno has always clung to Jaemin- tackling him with hugs, holding hands with him and smushing him to the couch. There's always a hand around his shoulder or waist, but Jeno has always been just as physically affectionate to the other members as well.

Now, it's like all his attention is on him, and only him.

Jaemin can't quite pinpoint the difference, but it might be the way Jeno's fingers now tap innocently at Jaemin's inner thighs, sliding up too close for comfort too many times for it to be a coincidence. Or maybe it was the way Jeno would tangle their limbs together, hips subtly grinding against him as he molds himself to Jaemin's side, voice deep as he whispers right into his ear. He's always finding ways to do that now, lowering his voice into that frustratingly hot baritone, lips grazing the shell of his ear as he purrs. 

He's always there , and when he isn't, the weight of him everywhere lingers, and it drives Jaemin insane. 

He's been all over Jaemin, always next to him, and put bluntly, Jaemin hasn't had time to jack off. He doesn't like doing it in the shower, prefers doing it on his bed, but he hasn't had the chance. He's so pent up he could burst, but he doesn't dare to try it again while Jeno's off to shower, and it eats at him from the inside, self-control slipping as Jeno continues to rile him up. 

He finally breaks when Jeno jumps onto his lap one night, straddling him in a pair of those accursed black shorts. 

Jaemin can't tear his eyes away as Jeno's groin presses against his own. 

"Jeno, what-" 

"Wake up, Jaemin!" Jeno beams, doey eyes large and sparkling as he bounces on Jaemin's lap.

Jaemin wants to die. Will actually die if Jeno continues torturing him like this, so he grabs his waist, how is it so tiny, and holds him down firmly. Jeno stills obediently. 

There can only be one reason why Jeno would be in these shorts, and Jaemin would be damned if it wasn't to go cycling with him. 

"Let's go, Jaemin." Jeno confirms his suspicions, and he looks like an over-excited puppy like this, begging his owner to take him out on a walk. 

These biking sessions have become a mix of sweet torture lately, leaving Jaemin hard and aroused for hours as he cycles his frustration away. But he gets a full view of Jeno in his sweaty glory every time, panting so sinfully with those cycling shorts on. Jaemin is but a mere moth, left with no choice but to chase after the light. 

"Jaemin." Jeno whines, shifting impatiently. 

He ends up inadvertently grinding down against Jaemin's cock. Jaemin's eyes flutter shut, jaw clenching as his fingers dig into Jeno's hips. 

"Stop. Moving." Jaemin grits out, but it's too late. 

"Oh." Jeno blinks at the hardness poking him from below, and Jaemin is quick to let go of him, trying but failing to extricate himself from this embarrassing situation.

"I'll get ready." Jaemin tries to play it cool, "Can you get our bikes ready?"

Jeno nods, a strange glint in his eyes as he finally hops off Jaemin's lap. 

"I'll wait for you outside then." Jeno smirks, voice teasing as he closes the door. "Don't take too long, okay?" 

Jaemin stuffs his face into his pillow and screams murder. 

…

A cold shower does little to help him as he slips on Jeno's his cycling shorts. 

It never gets any easier, his brain uselessly supplying images of Jeno wearing this exact pair of black tights, and Jaemin can only try his best not to think about how he's wearing the same piece of fabric that has cupped Jeno in all the same places. 

He can't believe he's down this bad for his best friend. It's midnight for goodness sake, edging over 1am, and Jeno woke him up to night cycle, and he said yes . 

He takes a deep breath, splashing the sleep away from his eyes as he steadies himself.

Jeno brightens up as Jaemin approaches, and he looks so soft and cuddly, a stark contrast to the rest of his body, that Jaemin relaxes. 

He can do this , he chants in his head like a mantra, as Jeno fits his helmet onto his head. Jaemin almost believes that he can get through this until Jeno leans in as he clasps the strap snug under Jaemin's jaw, and whispers,

"I have a vibrator in my ass." 

Jaemin's brain shuts down, a mix of pure confusion and arousal whipping his insides up as his jaw drops open.

Jeno's nose scrunches as he laughs, and Jaemin knows he must look ridiculous, but what the fuck did he just hear? 

"Come on, let's go." Jeno pulls him forward, and he looks so normal, that Jaemin can't tell if he's heard wrong or if Jeno is just playing a sick joke on him.

He never finds out. 

Jaemin is stuck with literal question marks around his head as he pedals quietly behind Jeno, staring blatantly at his ass as they cycle around the narrow, deserted path. 

Jeno's speed is the same as usual, and his expression is lively and… normal. He doesn't look like he's feeling any discomfort, and he certainly doesn't look like he has a vibrator up his ass. Jaemin is so confused, but Jeno has already planted the seed of doubt in his head, and now he can't stop thinking about it, can't stop searching for the smallest, tell-tale signs that it wasn't a lie. 

Jeno simply looks like he does every other time, while Jaemin is half-hard as he trails after Jeno's bicycle. 

He doesn't get the opportunity to ask, Jeno is always a little too far away, and he doesn't want to risk strangers hearing it, even though there really isn't anyone else around them. No one would come all the way out here to cycle at 2am. He doesn't even know how to ask him, doesn't know what he's supposed to say or even do. Do you really have a vibrator up your ass? What if he had heard wrong and weirded Jeno out with his obscene question? But what is he even supposed to do if Jeno says yes? 

Why did Jeno tell him that??

He's going crazy with the multitude of thoughts crowding his mind, and Jeno is none the wiser, humming as he talks about the freaking weather.

Jaemin wants to tear all his hair out. 

He ends up pedaling harder, and absolutely does not think about the way Jeno looks more flushed than usual as he matches Jaemin's new speed, panting a little harder than he normally would. 

…

They stop for a water break.

Jeno gets off his seat slowly, exhaling softly as he stands, and Jaemin, Jaemin doesn't know what the fuck to do with his hands.

He just kind of.. stares as Jeno bends down to grab their water bottles from his bicycle, the perfect curve of his bubble butt making him aware of how parched he is after cycling for so long.

He swallows thickly as Jeno stands up, face flushed when he hands Jaemin his bottle.

Except Jaemin doesn't think his bottle was that small, or rectangular, as he inspects the strange black box. It's the size of his palm, and there are buttons on one side, numbers, and oh. It's a remote.

Jeno just handed him a remote.

Jaemin doesn't think there's a 16-inch flatscreen TV out here in the middle of a forest in Hangang, so unless Jeno is really elaborate with his plan to fuck with him, he really has a vibrator up his ass. The whole time they've been cycling. Out in the open. It's too much information at once. Jaemin's head feels like it's about to explode.

"Oh, sorry. Here's your bottle. You must be thirsty." Jeno has the nerve to smile innocently at him as he hands Jaemin his black tumbler, as if he didn't just hand him a remote to the vibrator in his ass moments before.

Jaemin would throttle him if his hands weren't already full at the moment. He is pretty thirsty, so he decides to quench his thirst first. 

"It's at two by the way." Jeno adds nonchalantly.

Jaemin spits out his drink. 

"The highest speed is seven I think?" Jeno continues, counting with his fingers.

Jaemin coughs, cheeks flaming as he struggles to process Jeno's words. 

"Jaemin, are you okay?" Jeno feigns shock, and he's behind Jaemin now, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I'm fine." Jaemin chokes out.

"Oh, that's good. We still have quite a long ride left." Jeno smiles prettily, and Jaemin finally understands. 

"We do." He says, pressing down on a particular button. 

The effect is immediate- Jeno's eyes widen a fraction, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, a hand reaching to grip Jaemin's wrist hard. 

It's real. The remote works. Holy shit.

Jeno looks up at him with a dark glint in his eyes, pupils dilating, and Jaemin?

He turns the speed up by one more. 

...

"Ngh!" Jeno gasps, thighs clenching as he crumples forward into Jaemin's chest. 

His grip is vice-like as his knuckles turn white, a soft groan escaping his lips as he presses himself into Jaemin, shuddering. Jaemin is sure there will be purple bruises on his skin tomorrow in the shape of Jeno's fingers, and the thought of it has him rock hard, leaking a little through the thin fabric of his shorts. 

His biking shorts are maddeningly tight against his cock. It must feel even worse for Jeno, with a vibrator up his ass. 

"Jaemin- Jaemin, too much ." Jeno moans, eyes glazing over, and if this is how good Jeno feels at speed 4 already, Jaemin really wants to know the kind of sounds he makes at the highest speed 7.

His thumb hovers over the special button, and Jaemin is really tempted to turn the speed up- watch Jeno unravel in his arms just like this. But he knows that this isn't what Jeno wanted, and he himself wants to play as well.

Jeno breathes a sigh of relief, slumping into him as Jaemin turns the speed down by one. Jaemin lets himself stroke Jeno's back, warm and damp with sweat. 

"How will I know if it's too much?" Jaemin brushes Jeno's bangs aside, tucking it behind his ear. 

"I'll say strawberry." Jeno has the audacity to smirk. 

Jaemin raises the remote.

"No! No, no, wait, I'm sorry." Jeno panics, but makes no move to stop him, doesn't even try to snatch the remote away.

"The safeword is strawberry." Jaemin confirms, before pressing down on the remote.

Jeno chokes on a moan, staring desperately at Jaemin as his hips twitch, thighs slamming shut as he buries his face into Jaemin's chest, fingers crumpling his sweaty shirt. 

Jaemin reaches down to grope Jeno's ass, cupping it firmly in one hand, and fuck, it feels better than he imagined, plump and soft under his grip. He lets his fingers wander, pressing into the cleft of Jeno's ass, and Jeno groans, pushing back against his hand for more. 

Jaemin can feel it- something hard and thick through the soft padding of his shorts, can feel the vibrations this close, and it sends shivers down his spine, heat pooling low in his gut. He pushes it, jabbing hard at it, and Jeno's fingers dig into his skin, as he stretches up to stand on his toes. 

"Jaemin, I'm- I'm close." Jeno stutters, nosing along his collarbone as he breathes all over Jaemin's chest. 

"Enough." Jaemin finally pulls away, and Jeno whines at the loss, a mutter of pleas fanning over the shell of Jaemin's ear, but Jaemin is firm as he holds Jeno up, so Jeno lets Jaemin guide him onto his bicycle, a frustrated pout on his face.

Jeno doesn't even try to stifle his moan as he sits, back arching as he grinds down unabashedly. Jaemin can't stop watching him, helplessly enthralled. He makes a show of it, pulling Jaemin's hand down to cup his crotch, and fuck, it's so wet and warm, and then he's grinding against Jaemin's palm, eyes fogging over as he chases his release.

"Jeno, stop moving." Jaemin commands, and it surprises him how fast Jeno freezes, panting with the effort to stay still.

It sends a spark of arousal shooting down his spine, and Jeno is so pliant, so obedient, that Jaemin finally gets it.

Jeno has given him power. He wants to be controlled. 

"That's it. Such a good boy." Jaemin praises, giving his cock a small squeeze, and Jeno's eyes flutter shut, biting his lip as he preens. 

Jaemin can't breathe, transfixed, and he's suddenly so grateful that this is a rather deserted path, and that no one else is around.

"Let's go then." Jaemin hums, hopping onto his bicycle, but Jeno doesn't move, staring up at Jaemin with tearful eyes.

"What's wrong?" Jaemin frowns.

"T-the speed. It's too hnngh - high." Jeno pants, muscles contracting as he tries to stave off his orgasm.

Jaemin raises a brow.

"Please. Please lower it. I can't. I'll cum like this. Please, Jaemin, please ." Jeno whimpers, and Jaemin is tempted to do so since he's begged for it so nicely, but there's a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind, and he wants to test the theory out.

"You won't." Jaemin levels him with a stare so intense Jeno visibly shudders. 

"You won't come until I tell you to. You'll hold it in like a good boy, won't you?" Jaemin asks sweetly.

He is delighted when Jeno nods, face completely flushed as he bites down a moan. 

"Cycle in front of me, and only stop when it's really too much." Jaemin orders. 

"Okay." Jeno gives a small nod, gripping the handles so hard it hurts.

...

Jeno can't do this.

They have barely cycled a hundred meters, but it's so much . His cock is so hard it hurts, straining against the tight fabric of his shorts, and Jeno is grateful for the cover of the night, further hiding the very obvious tent in his pants. His ass hurts . The plug had been rubbing up against him incessantly, pressing up just short of his prostate the whole journey here, humming low at the first speed, before Jeno decided to be adventurous, and dial it up to 2 before handing the remote to Jaemin. 

It had slowly wound him up, pleasure building and building gradually the longer he rode, the harder he bore down as he pedaled. Mixed with the adrenaline of doing such a risky thing outdoors, where anyone could see him, had his cock throbbing pitifully. 

He could feel Jaemin's eyes on him the whole time, scanning every inch of him like a hawk, and Jeno felt naked under his sportswear, felt like Jaemin was stripping him bare under that intense glare.

Jeno doesn't know how Jaemin could pinpoint his kinks this quickly. How Jaemin just seemed to know what he wanted, needed and craved. How Jaemin gave it to him immediately, cranking up the vibrations and making him hold it, control, and wait for it.

He feels transparent in front of Jaemin, with the way Jaemin is able to see right through him, right through to his darkest desires. 

It's everything he ever wanted, as Jaemin wordlessly increases the speed again.

Pleasure shoots up his spine, and Jeno can't help slowing down, gliding down a slope as torrents of vibrations wreck through him. Jeno can hear the buzz of the vibrator now, and it's so, so different now that the plug is sitting right against his prostate. Has been, ever since Jaemin guided him back onto the bike and ordered him to hold it. 

He's trying, he's really trying, but his stomach tightens harshly against his will, and he bites his lips raw as he tries to pedal one, two more times. One, two more-

*BZZZZZZZZZZZ*

Jeno stops abruptly as the speed rises up again. The plug is whirring a little too loudly, wringing the battery powering it for all it's worth, and then it starts pulsing , and Jeno's eyes fly open in a panic, searching for Jaemin as he clamps his thighs together uselessly. 

"No, no, no, nono-" Jeno's hands snap down to press hard against his cock, and it's leaking so much, throbbing and so painfully hard, and the additional stimulation feels so good it makes his head spin.

"Jaemin, Jaemin, you haven't given me permission. Jaemin, please let me- ah!" Jeno thighs shake violently as his voice tapers off into a high-pitched moan.

His orgasm is barreling faster than a freight train, and Jeno tries his best to stave it off, gripping the base of his cock through his black cycling shorts as he curls forward, but it's not enough, it's not stopping, the pleasure just keeps building , and-

"Jaemin, Jaemin, I can't- I'm going to-c-" Jeno chokes on a gasp, as the plug stills, and then starts thrashing .

Jeno vaguely registers a hand clamping his mouth shut as he cries brokenly, coming so hard he whites out. The vibrator milks him through it, whisking against his sweet spot relentlessly as he spurts more come into his shorts. A dark wet patch grows, and beads of come seep out of the thin black elastic. 

Jeno convulses in Jaemin's hold, hands clawing down his back, and when did Jaemin come? But he's not allowed to think anymore as oversensitivity starts to kick in.

Everything is way too much now, bordering on pain as Jeno tries to plead with Jaemin to stop, but his words are muffled through Jaemin's hand shutting him up. Tears prick his eyes, vision blurring as the plug continues to hit and thrum against his prostate, but the vibrations don't stop, making him want to leap off the seat, but the shorts keep it wedged in even as he stands, caging him in a brutal hurricane of overstimulation.

He taps frantically at Jaemin's hand, and Jaemin finally releases him. He's whining now, begging and crying and Jaemin, perfect, wonderful Jaemin smiles down warmly at him, so he must understand, right? 

"I didn't say you could cum." Jaemin's smile drops, expression darkening, and Jeno's heart stops. 

"I'm sorry, Jaemin, please, I didn't mean to- I'll do anything, J-ah !" Jeno pleads, hips snapping as he tries to escape the intense torture, but there's no where to go, and he ends up dropping back down onto the seat, shoving the vibrator deeper up his ass. 

"Your safeword, Jen?" Jaemin asks, lowering the vibrations down a notch, just enough for Jeno to answer him. 

"S-strawberry." Jeno replies weakly. There's a sinking feeling in his gut as Jaemin checks their surroundings once more.

"Is it too much?" Jaemin asks gently, worry in his eyes, but Jeno hates him.

He hates him because he can take it. They both know he can, and he will. It stings, and it hurts so good . He deserves it. He wants it. So Jeno shakes his head, sucking in a shuddering breath and Jaemin is shoving his fingers into Jeno's mouth, silencing his moans as he lifts the remote up.

Jeno watches, eyes glazed, as the black button disappears under Jaemin's thumb.

It's too fast, and Jeno doesn't even know when his cock has started to fill again, but pleasure zings up his spine, goosebumps coating his skin as his toes curl. 

"You like this." Jaemin marvels, entranced as Jeno shakes his head. 

"I'm-" Jeno gasps, gut tightening, "I'm going to come-"

"Then come." Jaemin growls, licking a long, wet stripe at the back of his ear, and Jeno doesn't know if it's the authority in Jaemin's voice that does it, or the order itself. 

He comes weakly, tongue soft and pliant as Jaemin fits three of his fingers in his mouth. His orgasm washes over him painfully, overstimulation mixing with pain and pleasure.

Jeno grips at Jaemin's arm with pleasure-weak hands, and Jaemin mercifully turns the vibrator off. He's still shaking, aftershocks wrecking through him as he feels the phantom sensation of the vibrator pulse within him.

Jaemin pulls his fingers out, breaths rough as he curses at the sight of Jeno slumping against him, ruined and debauched.

"You did so well, Jeno-ah." Jaemin whispers praises into his ear, pressing featherlight kisses to his cheek.

"Please. Need you." Jeno whimpers, lashes wet as he palms Jaemin's crotch. 

"Fuck." Jaemin can't believe this, can't believe Jeno is this good .

He lifts Jeno up in his arms, half-walking, half-running to the public bathroom a little away. For once, he's glad to have gone to the gym with Jisung. 

His muscles scream at him as he finally makes it into the men's toilet. Jaemin crowds Jeno against the tiled wall, kissing him fervently as Jeno groans into his mouth. He opens up so well, and sucks madly at Jaemin's bottom lip as their hands grope each other. 

They stumble into the nearest cubicle, slamming the door shut. Jeno slips onto the ground without preamble, dropping onto his knees and he looks like the picture of Jaemin's wet dreams come to life. 

Their helmets clatter loudly as it drops onto the floor. It's hilariously hard to peel the shorts off his hip, but they manage it, and then Jeno's eager mouth is closing softly around his neglected cock, so warm and wet and good . Jaemin groans, hip bucking and Jeno takes it so achingly well, as if he's been waiting for it. And if today was any indication, Jaemin knows he has been. 

Jeno swirls his tongue around Jaemin's tip, licking and sucking, tasting the musk, sweat and precum. It's downright filthy. Jeno loves it. He bobs his head enthusiastically, before slowly diving in, relaxing his throat and taking Jaemin in until his nose is brushing against Jaemin's thin, dark curls. It smells amazing. He moans, feeling so full like this, throat speared by Jaemin's thick, fat cock. 

"Jeno, fuck, you feel so good." Jaemin combs through Jeno's hair, scratching lightly against his scalp and tugging at his hair. He feels the familiar clench in his gut, already so tense, but Jeno must sense it too, because he's pulling off with a wet 'pop', shucking off his shorts in a rush before bending over the bidet and pushing his ass out towards Jaemin. 

Jaemin can finally see the base of the plug poking out from Jeno's fluttering hole. He pulls it out slowly, a little surprised at the length and girth of it. Jeno had this up his ass the entire time?

"Jaemin, put it in ." Jeno growls, impatient.

"Where do I-" Jaemin feels a little lost, not knowing where to put the plug, but Jeno easily revolves the issue, twisting over and guiding it into his mouth. Hot.

"We don't have a condom." Jaemin states. Jeno simply throws him a look.  

"Lube?" Jaemin asks, just to be sure, he doesn't want to hurt Jeno after all, but Jeno just groans, frustrated.

With his mouth full, he uses his hand instead, fingers spreading his cheeks apart, and fuck, yeah, yeah, there's more than enough lube in there. Definitely. Yup. 

Jaemin wraps a hand around his cock, slick with Jeno's spit, and slowly pushes into him. 

" Fuck ." Jaemin grunts, and Jeno makes a garbled noise, both trembling as pleasure floods their senses. 

Jeno is so tight and hot inside, his inner walls squeezing perfectly around him, and Jaemin can't believe how wet he is, wonders how much lube he squirted into himself, how long it took to prep himself. 

Jeno groans, low and raspy as Jaemin bottoms out. He waits a little for Jeno to adjust. He knows how sensitive Jeno feels, and it probably hurts, having had a dildo up his ass for hours, but Jeno is squirming impatiently, and Jaemin has just about reached his limit.

He fucks into Jeno hard, pulling out till the head catches against the swollen pucker of his rim before slamming back in, jackrabbiting his hips as he chases after his high. He grips either sides of Jeno's hips, strength bruising as he all but wrenches Jeno back towards him as he thrusts forward. Jeno gasps at the sensation, back arching as he lets out a long, drawn out moan.

"Ah! There, right there, feels so good, mmnn -" Jeno keens, scrabbling for purchase at the cool ceramic tank. Jaemin has found his prostate, and he growls at the feeling of Jeno clenching deliciously around his hard cock. He pistons his hips, angling to hit it at every downward thrust. They both groan at the sensation, and Jaemin snakes a hand around Jeno's oversensitive shaft, squeezing on the edge of too hard, and Jeno mewls, jerking back, but there's no escape, he's sandwiched between Jaemin's cock and his hand. 

"Come." Jaemin growls, voice wrecked and Jeno comes for the third time that night, twitching harshly in his hold, whimpering as cum dribbles out of his spent cock.

His insides spasm as he comes, milking Jaemin so, so, good , all it takes is a few more erratic thrusts, and Jaemin is spilling into Jeno with a groan, muttering his name as he grinds down, drawing out his high. 

Jeno slumps onto the bidet, knees weak. 

They wince as he pulls out, grimacing from oversensitivity. Jaemin watches as his cum oozes out of Jeno's abused hole, dripping down his thighs. 

He gets an idea, coaxing the plug out of Jeno's mouth, before pushing all six inches of it back into his rim. Jeno makes the prettiest sound as Jaemin pushes the plug into him gently, keeping him stuffed full with his thick, gooey cum. 

He swipes the rest with his fingers, and Jeno licks it up eagerly, lapping at the pads of his fingers before sucking softly. Jaemin clears his throat, soft cock pulsing weakly. 

"Our clothes are ruined." Jaemin scrunches his face in disgust as he picks up their soiled shorts from the floor.

"I brought spares." Jeno waves him off easily, "They're in my bag."

"...you planned this, didn't you?" Jaemin narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Jeno simply smiles innocently, sated and contented.

...

"Wait, Jeno, we have to talk about this." Jaemin stops him.

"Are we friends with benefits?" He asks bluntly, straight to the chase. Jaemin might be shy about his feelings, but he's anything but straightforward. 

"N-no. I mean, I don't want us to be," Jeno stutters, caught off-guard. He struggles to form a coherent sentence, but Jaemin knows him well enough to understand his broken sentences.

All too suddenly, his heart feels unbearably full.

"Hey, hey. I get it." Jaemin hushes him with a soft kiss. "I want us to be more too." 

Jeno relaxes into his arms, nuzzling into his neck as he sighs in relief.

"I know we may have skipped a few steps, but I want you to know that while I do want to fuck you seven ways to heaven, I also want to date you with the intention to marry, and adopt cats or dogs or even children. Whatever you want. I want a life with you." Jaemin confesses, heart hammering in his chest. It feels good to finally say it out, now that he doesn't have to hide it anymore.

"I want that too. Sugar, spice and all things nice." Jeno giggles, and Jaemin resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

"I love you, Jeno-ah." Jaemin murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. 

"I love you too, Jaemin ." Jeno whispers low into his ear, voice rough and deep. 

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Jaemin asks, breath coming in short as his heart thumps loudly in his chest. They've already confessed, and Jaemin knows that their feelings are mutual. He can't help but feel nervous though, as the question slips past his lips. 

Jeno has always been more action than words, as he nods his head adorably, before crushing Jaemin with a hug with a little too much force, but Jaemin doesn't mind. 

"Yes." He pants into Jaemin's mouth as they exchange a passionate kiss, all tongue and spit, and Jaemin can't get enough of it.

He doesn't ever want to. 

…

"So, don't you love cycling?" Jeno teases, grinning like a Chesire cat.

Jaemin laughs, defeated.

"It seems we both love being tortured."