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unodoseskimoTitle: Use
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Minor angst, fail!fluff, smut
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When the term "best friend" comes to mean backstage flings
A/N: Based slightly on this comment ... ;___; idek
& Not proofread. I'm a lazy mofo. [unlocked because it is mentioned in another user's post]
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Minor angst, fail!fluff, smut
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When the term "best friend" comes to mean backstage flings
A/N: Based slightly on this comment ... ;___; idek
& Not proofread. I'm a lazy mofo. [unlocked because it is mentioned in another user's post]
Jonghyun’s mind couldn’t process what Kibum was doing.
It started how it always did; fevered kissing, fingernails digging into backs as whoever is in control at that time manages to walk the other into a closet or a dark corner or behind the fucking couch—whichever was closest.
It continued as usual, Kibum wriggling his way out of his clothing, somehow taking Jonghyun’s with it, his hands working through the elder’s hair as their lips crashed together in a heated battle of teeth and lips and low-muttered profanities.
“Fuck,” came Jonghyun’s voice, husky yet sharp, when Kibum’s teeth found their way to his jugular, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. Jonghyun flipped their position, pinning Kibum against the closet (they had managed to find an actual room with an actual door this time) door, a soft thud, a gasp, and a look of pure want from Kibum being his rewards.
They were both far too gone to even consider teasing, and Jonghyun got right down to the point. Dropping to his knees, he was greeted by Kibum’s erect cock straining against the briefs that somehow survived the attack on clothing earlier.
Jonghyun stuck one finger under the elastic waistband of the briefs “Designer brand, don’t you dare fucking rip them,“ came Kibum’s helpful input.
Rolling his eyes, Jonghyun gingerly pulled them down, far too slowly for Kibum’s liking, enjoying every cant of the younger’s hips, and the helpless whine that escaped him at the unbearably light friction.
Absentmindedly licking his lips, Jonghyun gripped the base of Kibum’s cock, looking up for a much unneeded nod of confirmation, and took him in his mouth whole. Kibum was hot and heavy in his throat, he guessed he had been hard and wanting this long before Jonghyun looked at him on stage like that, and ran his hand absently up his thigh, far too high and intimate to be passed as best friend behavior.
Setting a rhythmic pace, Jonghyun allowed Kibum to fuck his throat, being more than compliant as he hummed around the younger boy, soaking up every keen that spilled from him.
Of course, this was as far from normal best friend behavior as it could get, allowing that person to use you, and you using that person as well, for a quick get off, a blow job, a fleeting yet promising touch under the table while smiling for the magazine representative.
Jonghyun’s mind is buzzing with thoughts when he feels Kibum tense under his grip on his hips, and the shallow thrusting becomes more frantic, his breaths leaving and entering him in shuddering waves.
Kibum’s hands card hard through Jonghyun’s hair, pushing him further onto his leaking cock, desperate words spilling from him unknowingly as Jonghyun takes in his entire length, humming louder now, gagging on the spit and precum that’s gathering at the base of his throat—but he can’t really bring himself to care when Kibum freezes inside of him, his sharp intake of breath barely audible as his empties into the other’s waiting mouth, the one name on his lips rolling out.
“Jonghyun,“
Jonghyun lets Kibum’s softening cock slide out of his mouth with a wet pop, and stares at the string of saliva that connects his abused mouth to it, in no hurry to stand up.
Kibum makes a sound above him which breaks Jonghyun out of the trance he had been in since his name left the other’s mouth in such a needy way, and he looks up, his eyes bleary, his vision quaky as he tries to catch his breath.
He is pulled up by Kibum’s hands locking under his arms, set level to Kibum’s face, as level as you can get with such a height difference, anyway.
When Jonghyun doesn’t make a move to kiss him, or even remark at how much of a whore Kibum figured he looked like at the moment, the younger decides to take matters into his own hands, latching his arms around Jonghyun’s neck, interlacing his fingers behind his head.
Resting his head against the door and looking Jonghyun over, Kibum speaks in something barely over a whisper, his voice coated with the sex the small room now reeked of.
“Anything in particular you want me to do?”
The question is so simple, so innocent compared to the much more raunchy situations they’ve been in one thousand times before, but it’s enough for Jonghyun to realize it.
Hair askew and breathing erratic, a soft sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead; this is when Key becomes Kibum; open, wanting, so ready to please, so breakable.
Kibum reaches to wipe Jonghyun’s pouty mouth, dragging his thumb against the swollen bottom lip and smirking at the other boy. His hand travels down his neck, across his slightly heaving chest and play at the hem of his boxers—also forgotten—with lithe fingers, his eyes dilated and clouded over.
“No? Alright then,”
His fingers dance over the hard bulge tenting the boxers while his other hand comes from Jonghyun’s neck, down to his mouth, an unspoken command of suck, and Jonghyun’s body complies as it only knows how to when he’s with Kibum.
Kibum’s other fingers are now hooked under the waistband of Jonghyun’s boxers, easing them down just as slowly as Jonghyun had, enjoying the slightly wince Jonghyun gives when one of his fingernails gently drags across the sensitive skin over his hipbone.
It takes almost all his willpower to reach up and pull Kibum’s fingers out of his mouth, his other hand wrapping lightly around Kibum’s thin wrist and pulling his hand away from his underwear.
He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing as he placed Kibum’s hands back around his neck, and by the time he got both of their underwear back on, he lost all will that was pushing him to do this.
So they stood there, awkward for the first time around each other, their faces five inches apart, sharing the same air.
Jonghyun’s lost every ounce of his resolve after the thirty-fifth time he counted Kibum blink, and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
As he moves to pick up the soiled clothing around them, and hopefully gather his thoughts while he does so, he feels Kibum’s arms tighten around him, not physically strong enough to make him stop, but he does anyway.
Jonghyun turns to face the boy again; taking note that all desire and lust have left Kibum’s searching eyes. Kibum lets one of his arms drop to his side, awkwardly tapping his fingernails against the doorframe, calculating.
Jonghyun thinks he wants an answer, an answer to why Jonghyun stopped him like he never did before. Jonghyun was always ready to use his best friend, so geared up to fuck him into whatever surface they happened to be around; so happy to hear the pants and groans spilling from Kibum when he angled his hips just so and had the younger boy writhing and coming in his arms.
The problem is, Jonghyun doesn’t have an answer, and he doesn’t know why he stopped Kibum’s eager hands, because God knows he wanted it, God knows he needed release like no other.
But apparently Jonghyun wasn’t out of his fucking mind like he thought, because Kibum leans forward, his breathing suddenly ten times faster, his fist—the one that wasn’t digging into the back of Jonghyun’s hair—clenching and unclenching in such pure nervousness, an emotion the elder had never seen from the guarded, sharp-tongued boy.
It’s just a peck, really, a gentle, chaste kiss on the lips, but it’s all the answers Jonghyun couldn’t think of just seconds ago.
No, Jonghyun really couldn’t process what Kibum was doing, what he himself was doing as he gathered up the discarded clothing and helped the weak-kneed Kibum get dressed. He didn’t know what he was doing when he wound his arm around Kibum’s waist, receiving a worried look in return, but making no move to remove it, or when he led Kibum into his bedroom, an unspoken welcome to spend the night.
It takes an hour for Kibum to relax in his arms after much fret and fuss over being caught, and the countless why’s filling Jonghyun’s ears. It takes him another thirty-four minutes to get used to the feeling of Jonghyun’s hand running up and down the small of his back, making no move to go lower.
It’s new and it’s strange, touching but not fucking, kissing but not fighting for dominance, but it’s something Jonghyun could get used to.
Jonghyun wakes up the next morning to Kibum curled up in his side, breathing soft and metrical, and turns his head slightly to plant a kiss on top of Kibum’s head, sighing as the scent of his shampoo fills his nose.
It started how it always did; fevered kissing, fingernails digging into backs as whoever is in control at that time manages to walk the other into a closet or a dark corner or behind the fucking couch—whichever was closest.
It continued as usual, Kibum wriggling his way out of his clothing, somehow taking Jonghyun’s with it, his hands working through the elder’s hair as their lips crashed together in a heated battle of teeth and lips and low-muttered profanities.
“Fuck,” came Jonghyun’s voice, husky yet sharp, when Kibum’s teeth found their way to his jugular, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. Jonghyun flipped their position, pinning Kibum against the closet (they had managed to find an actual room with an actual door this time) door, a soft thud, a gasp, and a look of pure want from Kibum being his rewards.
They were both far too gone to even consider teasing, and Jonghyun got right down to the point. Dropping to his knees, he was greeted by Kibum’s erect cock straining against the briefs that somehow survived the attack on clothing earlier.
Jonghyun stuck one finger under the elastic waistband of the briefs “Designer brand, don’t you dare fucking rip them,“ came Kibum’s helpful input.
Rolling his eyes, Jonghyun gingerly pulled them down, far too slowly for Kibum’s liking, enjoying every cant of the younger’s hips, and the helpless whine that escaped him at the unbearably light friction.
Absentmindedly licking his lips, Jonghyun gripped the base of Kibum’s cock, looking up for a much unneeded nod of confirmation, and took him in his mouth whole. Kibum was hot and heavy in his throat, he guessed he had been hard and wanting this long before Jonghyun looked at him on stage like that, and ran his hand absently up his thigh, far too high and intimate to be passed as best friend behavior.
Setting a rhythmic pace, Jonghyun allowed Kibum to fuck his throat, being more than compliant as he hummed around the younger boy, soaking up every keen that spilled from him.
Of course, this was as far from normal best friend behavior as it could get, allowing that person to use you, and you using that person as well, for a quick get off, a blow job, a fleeting yet promising touch under the table while smiling for the magazine representative.
Jonghyun’s mind is buzzing with thoughts when he feels Kibum tense under his grip on his hips, and the shallow thrusting becomes more frantic, his breaths leaving and entering him in shuddering waves.
Kibum’s hands card hard through Jonghyun’s hair, pushing him further onto his leaking cock, desperate words spilling from him unknowingly as Jonghyun takes in his entire length, humming louder now, gagging on the spit and precum that’s gathering at the base of his throat—but he can’t really bring himself to care when Kibum freezes inside of him, his sharp intake of breath barely audible as his empties into the other’s waiting mouth, the one name on his lips rolling out.
“Jonghyun,“
Jonghyun lets Kibum’s softening cock slide out of his mouth with a wet pop, and stares at the string of saliva that connects his abused mouth to it, in no hurry to stand up.
Kibum makes a sound above him which breaks Jonghyun out of the trance he had been in since his name left the other’s mouth in such a needy way, and he looks up, his eyes bleary, his vision quaky as he tries to catch his breath.
He is pulled up by Kibum’s hands locking under his arms, set level to Kibum’s face, as level as you can get with such a height difference, anyway.
When Jonghyun doesn’t make a move to kiss him, or even remark at how much of a whore Kibum figured he looked like at the moment, the younger decides to take matters into his own hands, latching his arms around Jonghyun’s neck, interlacing his fingers behind his head.
Resting his head against the door and looking Jonghyun over, Kibum speaks in something barely over a whisper, his voice coated with the sex the small room now reeked of.
“Anything in particular you want me to do?”
The question is so simple, so innocent compared to the much more raunchy situations they’ve been in one thousand times before, but it’s enough for Jonghyun to realize it.
Hair askew and breathing erratic, a soft sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead; this is when Key becomes Kibum; open, wanting, so ready to please, so breakable.
Kibum reaches to wipe Jonghyun’s pouty mouth, dragging his thumb against the swollen bottom lip and smirking at the other boy. His hand travels down his neck, across his slightly heaving chest and play at the hem of his boxers—also forgotten—with lithe fingers, his eyes dilated and clouded over.
“No? Alright then,”
His fingers dance over the hard bulge tenting the boxers while his other hand comes from Jonghyun’s neck, down to his mouth, an unspoken command of suck, and Jonghyun’s body complies as it only knows how to when he’s with Kibum.
Kibum’s other fingers are now hooked under the waistband of Jonghyun’s boxers, easing them down just as slowly as Jonghyun had, enjoying the slightly wince Jonghyun gives when one of his fingernails gently drags across the sensitive skin over his hipbone.
It takes almost all his willpower to reach up and pull Kibum’s fingers out of his mouth, his other hand wrapping lightly around Kibum’s thin wrist and pulling his hand away from his underwear.
He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing as he placed Kibum’s hands back around his neck, and by the time he got both of their underwear back on, he lost all will that was pushing him to do this.
So they stood there, awkward for the first time around each other, their faces five inches apart, sharing the same air.
Jonghyun’s lost every ounce of his resolve after the thirty-fifth time he counted Kibum blink, and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
As he moves to pick up the soiled clothing around them, and hopefully gather his thoughts while he does so, he feels Kibum’s arms tighten around him, not physically strong enough to make him stop, but he does anyway.
Jonghyun turns to face the boy again; taking note that all desire and lust have left Kibum’s searching eyes. Kibum lets one of his arms drop to his side, awkwardly tapping his fingernails against the doorframe, calculating.
Jonghyun thinks he wants an answer, an answer to why Jonghyun stopped him like he never did before. Jonghyun was always ready to use his best friend, so geared up to fuck him into whatever surface they happened to be around; so happy to hear the pants and groans spilling from Kibum when he angled his hips just so and had the younger boy writhing and coming in his arms.
The problem is, Jonghyun doesn’t have an answer, and he doesn’t know why he stopped Kibum’s eager hands, because God knows he wanted it, God knows he needed release like no other.
But apparently Jonghyun wasn’t out of his fucking mind like he thought, because Kibum leans forward, his breathing suddenly ten times faster, his fist—the one that wasn’t digging into the back of Jonghyun’s hair—clenching and unclenching in such pure nervousness, an emotion the elder had never seen from the guarded, sharp-tongued boy.
It’s just a peck, really, a gentle, chaste kiss on the lips, but it’s all the answers Jonghyun couldn’t think of just seconds ago.
No, Jonghyun really couldn’t process what Kibum was doing, what he himself was doing as he gathered up the discarded clothing and helped the weak-kneed Kibum get dressed. He didn’t know what he was doing when he wound his arm around Kibum’s waist, receiving a worried look in return, but making no move to remove it, or when he led Kibum into his bedroom, an unspoken welcome to spend the night.
It takes an hour for Kibum to relax in his arms after much fret and fuss over being caught, and the countless why’s filling Jonghyun’s ears. It takes him another thirty-four minutes to get used to the feeling of Jonghyun’s hand running up and down the small of his back, making no move to go lower.
It’s new and it’s strange, touching but not fucking, kissing but not fighting for dominance, but it’s something Jonghyun could get used to.
Jonghyun wakes up the next morning to Kibum curled up in his side, breathing soft and metrical, and turns his head slightly to plant a kiss on top of Kibum’s head, sighing as the scent of his shampoo fills his nose.
