Work Text:
Taeyong scans the stockroom with his hands locked on his waist and a satisfied sigh rolling across his tongue. After a long shift at the store, there’s finally one remaining task that he needs to finish: sweeping the floors by the aisles. Well technically, not if you count the cashing up of the till—but that’s the least of his worries for now since he’s always find the task a lot easier, anyway. Moreover, the store is still open.
Sometime when he was arranging the boxes, Taeil, his senior co-worker, had popped his head into the room and bade his goodnight to the poor junior who’s in-charge of closing the store for today. Taeyong fixes his appearance in front of the dusty, partly defaced mirror they somehow still keep in the back of the room and leaves with once again occupied hands, a broom in one and a dustpan in the other.
He’s surprised to see a customer still lingering around despite the time, hunched over the long table by the window. Though, he shouldn’t really be surprised since it’s a convenience store and people come and go whenever they want. He doesn’t dwell on it too much and makes a beeline to one of the sections instead.
It’s about a quarter of an hour when the only noise being heard in the store solely comes from the collective monotonous whirring of the machines—the coffee machine urns, the beverage dispensers, the boilers, the slushy machines. Even Taeyong becomes lulled to the dull symphony like a lonely sailor would to an enticing siren, finding himself being too interested on the dust particles that had gathered under the aisles throughout the day more than he should.
It’s until he hears the only other person around.
“Hey.” A deep, melodious voice punctures through the static.
But how did Taeyong’s brain immediately associate this stranger’s voice with something beautiful as melodic when he’s literally heard a single word out? What is happening?
“Hey.” The stranger repeats patiently. “I kinda need your help.”
Taeyong is mobilized again, shaken out of his thoughts, when he hears the word ‘help’. The need to comply to customer assistance during work hours kicks him harder than it should be, pulling him out of his lonely-sailor stupor.
“Yes?” He says, clutching onto the stick of the broom unnecessarily harder and totally forgoing the dustpan as he walks up to the customer’s table.
It’s a mistake. It’s utterly a mistake.
In that moment, his mind flashes a dangerously vivid image of a wide, starless sky and an even wider surface of water. There, floats a small wooden boat carrying a lonely sailor. But no, he’s not alone anymore—and even more so alarming, he’s tipping dangerously off his boat in hopes to grasp the beguiling creature in front of him which crooks a tantalizing finger at him, coaxing him to jump, swim, and drown. Bewitched, the sailor reaches his greedy hands further until—
“My name is Jaehyun. I mean, my Korean name. I actually go by Jay.” The stranger is saying, a hint of astonishment written across his face. He leans forward then, taking Taeyong by surprise, only for him to cross his arms and squint benevolently at the name tag attached to Taeyong’s uniform. “Nice to meet you, Taeyong.”
His accent is incredibly thick, but not enough for it to completely butcher his Korean-speaking skills. He’s also mentioned an English name. He’s definitely not from here. But then again, it’s not the way he speaks or how fabulously attractive he looks—well, partly, yes—that’s throwing Taeyong off. It’s particularly the eyes.
He’s pretty sure he’s never seen someone wear so much kohl around their eyes in real life, and so perfectly drawn kohl at that! He’s seen them on idols in the screen, for sure, male idols even, but not personally and especially in such a close proximity that if he just makes the right effort to focus and squint, he can practically count this boy’s eyelashes. Goodness! And that says a lot because Taeyong has been dancing for years—he has put on eyeliner countless of times for their stages, but he’s afraid he can never pull off the look as superior as this boy does.
Taeyong clears his throat and pastes a brittle smile. “Hello, Jaehyun. What do you need my help for?”
Jaehyun beams brightly and picks up the carton of milk from the table. “Sorry, but can you read this for me? My Hangul is quite rusty.”
Taeyong accepts the milk and begins scanning the contents at the back of the carton. “It says cow’s milk,” he recites helpfully, hoping it’s the answer Jaehyun wants to hear.
The kohl-eyed boy’s lips form a thin line when he nods but then he’s blasting that megawatt smile again and his eyes reduce into tiny crinkles. “I can’t drink that, then. I’m lactose intolerant. It’s cool, though, you can have it instead.”
Taeyong nearly melts into a puddle in that moment, but then he remembers he still needs to finish sweeping the floors and cash up the register and close the store so he holds his ground firm, thankful for the support that the broom offers.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “You know I can give you another milk but like, soy or something.”
“Ah, no! It’s fine! Trust me.” Jaehyun giggles, appearing meek all of a sudden, and heavens, Taeyong might be onto something. “Um. Would you care to sit?”
Taeyong gives him a smile and decides that it wouldn’t hurt if he closes the store a little bit later today. Jaehyun seems genuine enough and he can use the time to rest. So he sets the broom aside, sits down, and stabs the straw in his drink.
“You’re not from here, aren’t you?”
There’s an empty packet of junk food and a can of soda on the table.
“I’m from America, actually. Connecticut, to be specific. I’m visiting for a month and today marks my two weeks in Korea.”
“Oh.” There’s an inexplicable sinking feeling that takes place within Taeyong’s gut in response to the boy’s words and for a moment, he stops sipping on his straw. Suddenly, the milk doesn’t taste so appetizing anymore. He’s not from here, his suspicions are correct—which also means he’s… leaving.
“So you’re leaving in another two weeks, eh?” He hopes it comes off lighthearted.
“Mm.” Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly before leaning his elbow on the table and cupping the side of his cheek with a hand. He smiles directly at Taeyong, crinkly and dimply. “My dad would personally cut off my finger if I don’t come back on the day as promised, because then he’ll be left with a shit ton of stuff to do for the matters we’ll be leaving permanently there.”
Taeyong thinks he’s heard them wrong so he blinks back at the boy, and then decides to just ask to be sure. “Leaving… permanently?”
“I mean, we’re coming to live here permanently in two months’ time.”
Taeyong can’t understand the sheer amount of relief that comes to him, it’s simply unspeakable and downright unreasonable, or rather, he tries his best to not decipher it. Just… how is this stranger making him feel so many honest emotions like he’s been a friend whom he sincerely knows inside and out for an extended time, when in reality it’s merely half of an hour?
He chases the thought away and smiles at Jaehyun. “So you’ve been here just for fun?”
“Kind of, but like, also kind of not. I wanted to make sure I’d love living in here. It’s literally a few thousands of miles away from home. It would suck if I didn’t, yeah?”
Jaehyun cranes his neck to the front so that he’s facing the glass that is now doubling as a mirror due to the lack of sunlight outside and he sees his reflection in there. In Taeyong’s perspective, it poorly does nothing but to accentuate the pout that the other is sporting, as if submerged in thoughts. And God bless his little heart, Jaehyun’s side profile is absolutely on par with the greatest of arts to ever exist, if not more.
“I understand.” Taeyong consoles him gently.
He stands up to put away the empty box in a nearby bin and Jaehyun is quick to do the same to his own.
“That means you’re my first friend here, right?” Jaehyun is saying, surpassing him on the way back and even making a show of walking backwards to the table with a smug lilt to his lips.
Taeyong tries to conceal the urge to vehemently blush, he really does, but in the end, the warmth painting across his cheeks betrays him even if he can’t see it for himself. “I mean, yeah, I’m flattered,” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he sits back down. “So, um. It must be tough switching universities?”
“Yeah. I’m on my second year of Architecture this coming semester. Thankfully, it’s not a lot of changes. You?” Jaehyun quirks a brow.
“Fourth year. Graphic Design.” He says simply.
Jaehyun dramatically whistles as he simultaneously raises a closed fist to knock it against his mouth. Taeyong can only roll his eyes at the exaggeration, though he would be lying if he says he doesn’t find the boy’s antics cute at all.
“Your drawings must be outstanding.”
“You’re one to talk. You’re literally an Architecture student,” he whistles too, and even goes an extra mile of wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly. If Jaehyun wants to flirt with him via smothering him with compliments, well, bad news for him. Taeyong is just as determined and he will do it. “I mean, your eye makeup is literally the sickest one I’ve ever seen. Did you draw the kohl yourself?”
For a moment, Jaehyun appears to be shy on the onslaught of honesty coming from Taeyong, but then it vanishes just as fast as it rushed through him. He’s smiling again, and he runs his fingers briefly through his hair—it’s not soft, more like the wax has melted between the strips of what could’ve been a perfectly-styled hair—and once again, Taeyong is a goner.
“Yeah, I like doing it. Maybe I can draw on you sometime, too.”
“Yeah… That would be cool.” Taeyong’s hand comes up to rub at his nape on auto-pilot and he shifts his face slightly away from Jaehyun’s piercing gaze, as if the dark kohl around his eyes isn’t enough to suck him in into an endless black hole; an enigma Taeyong might just be willing to find the answers to.
Jaehyun breaks the silence for the both of them, and even then, his cheeks are a bit tainted too. “Um. So were you about to close the store?”
“Oh! Actually, thanks for reminding me.” Taeyong is massively relieved to find out his feet haven’t glued themselves onto the floor after all, considering just how much it seemed that his body didn’t want to stop talking to the boy just now. He sprints across the room and struggles for a moment to pick up the dustpan.
“No, actually, let me help.” Jaehyun’s voice trails behind him incredibly close and just as he spins around, the kohl-eyed boy is already there, extended arms and all. Is he serious?
“No, shut up, you’re a customer. Let me do my job.” He scolds lightheartedly, clutching at his chest like a mother would clutch at her pearls.
Jaehyun merely laughs and he is, in fact, dead serious. He snatches the tools out of Taeyong’s grasp before he can make a move to protest and begins sweeping. What is the possibility of someone meeting a kind stranger who’s willing to do your job? A handsome one at that? Has he exhausted his chances of winning in a lottery?
Would it even matter?
He goes back to the register with a new resolve. “Okay, since you gave me your milk maybe I can allow you to do my job,” he says, although, if he thinks about it, there’s really nothing for Jaehyun in it, right? Why is he doing this? “And you’re making my life easier. What idiot would pass on that?”
“I think that’s the goal all along.” Jaehyun counters easily, his voice sounding far off somewhere behind one of the aisles. Admittedly, it brings a smile to Taeyong’s face. “Although, I gotta ask. Why do you need to clean, anyway? There’s barely any dirt here.”
From his place on the register, Taeyong tears his gaze away from the report sheet, his pen hovering on the paper. “If you know my manager, you would understand. Her eyes seem to have a built-in magnifying glass in them,” he laughs at his own silly joke.
When he’s finished cashing up the bills, he walks up to the door to pull the sign into ‘closed’ and then locks them. Once he turns around, Jaehyun is back in his sight, and he temporarily malfunctions again. The kohl-eyed boy is leaning against the end of one of the aisles and even in such a mundane stance, he looks effortlessly dashing.
“It’s funny because this feels like a crime.”
Taeyong mirrors the curve of Jaehyun’s lips, a tiny smile blooming across shy cheeks. “What is?”
“Me, being locked in here with you, an employee. I feel like if I were to steal anything right now, you’d easily let me off the hook.”
Too late, you already stole my heart, Taeyong thinks.
Jaehyun asked for his number that night after he dropped Taeyong in front of his apartment building and they’ve been texting each other back and forth since.
During work hours at the store, Taeyong would sneak replies to Jaehyun with a skill of a teenager hiding whatever they have on their phone from their parents. Sometimes, his attempts would be futile since Taeil would watch him like a hawk since he’s discovered Taeyong was hiding something from him. Other times, he would find the elder hot on his heels during break time, with that big, goofy grin of his and eyes that seem to convey, “Well, do you have anything to say to me, Taeyongie?”
Most of the times, it’s just Taeyong trying to desperately but failing to wipe off the stupid grin on his face whenever his senior would catch him on his phone.
It’s the summer but it doesn’t mean rest for Taeyong. He still has to work full-time at the store because he needs the money to pay for his student loans and rent that he has insisted to pay despite his mother’s reluctance because he already feels bad that she’s giving him allowance as is.
Jaehyun, on one hand, is basically a tourist so he has a lot of time in his hands. For three consecutive nights, he’s been fetching Taeyong whenever his shift ends at the store with the car he has rented since he came to Korea, an old model of a Chevrolet—sleek, black, and sexy but not as sexy as the person who’s driving, of course.
Taeyong would swoon because oh my God, I really like him and unless he’s reading Jaehyun wrong, it’s clear that the feeling is reciprocated.
Jaehyun would play songs in the car and Taeyong is not much for singing but he would sing anyway, because Jaehyun is singing and Jaehyun always seems to know what the right songs to play to get him to sing.
Taeyong would catch him stealing glances when he thinks he’s not looking but he can feel the intensity in those gazes boring into him even in short breaths of time. He’s also noticed that Jaehyun would always make an effort to shift his body so he can properly look him in the eye whenever they talk, even in the car every chance he gets—in the traffic, under the red light.
It’s the little, endearing things that make him wonder whether there is more to this than friendship, whether Jaehyun wants something more from him. Jaehyun hasn’t tried to make a move on him, if anything he seems shy to even touch him, but that speaks his sincerity more than the prospect that he doesn’t like him that way. It’s clear that they’re falling for each other, no matter how absurd that sounds considering the fact that they’ve known each other less than a week and are basically strangers but Jaehyun is a whirlwind and Taeyong has decided he’ll go wherever the wind blows.
On a Friday when he doesn’t have a shift at the store, Taeyong takes them to the local park. Jaehyun is wearing an expensive Valentino cardigan and he smells like a fresh mountain flower and something unfamiliar, probably the American air still clinging to his skin. There’s no kohl around his eyes or a heavily-slicked hair, just a perfect walking image of a boy-next-door poster, soft everything—soft clothes, soft skin, soft hair, the softest pair of gaze Taeyong has ever seen.
It’s nearing the dusk but the park is still throbbing with energy. There are throngs of people lingering around and children chasing each other and running and laughing. At the top of a small hill where they’re ascending on, a girl in a flowy, white dress stands on a stump playing her violin. Taeyong watches a smile so wide spread across Jaehyun’s face and in that moment, he wishes nothing more than to hold his hand.
He’s not brave enough to do that, though, so he just bites on his lip and keeps his hands inside his pockets.
“Is that the river?” Jaehyun asks excitedly, already pointing at the footbridge.
Taeyong nods and they lock eyes for a second, and that second seems to be enough because they somehow came into this telephatic sense to just speed-walk the hell out towards the bridge like little children would do.
“Jump!”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jaehyun looks at him with a mixture of thrill and horror.
“I’m dead serious, Jaehyun. Why did you think I brought us here in the first place?” He explains with little patience, ready to risk it all and jump into the water below.
“But my clothes!” Jaehyun protests and Taeyong wants to laugh because he doesn’t even ask why, he’s willing to go along just like that, but not to the expense where he messes his clothes, it seems. Jaehyun is so cute that Taeyong can feel his heart wilting like a flower under the scorching sun.
“Take them off, genius.”
“There’s no way I’m stripping with kids around.”
At that, Taeyong can no longer hold his laugh. He grips at the railings and laughs into the water below until he can feel the tears sting the corners of his eyes. He looks back at the younger to find the side of his lip quirking into a delicate smirk as what must be amusement.
“I’m serious, though. People come to swim here all-year around, especially during the summers. Look, even kids are swimming over there!” He says, pointing to the distance where the kids are and some moms enjoying the last bits of the sun on the banks.
Jaehyun’s smirk widens before he crosses his arms and pastes on a look as if he’s not convinced yet. “I would need a full-demonstration from you, please. You go first and I’ll follow.”
“Oh, so you’re teasing me now. Okay.” Taeyong huffs defiantly, his hands already clutching at the hems of his shirt.
He lifts his arms higher, daring Jaehyun to look, and bingo, he gets his prize. A sliver of an abdominal skin, a glimpse of Jaehyun’s panicked but unabashed gaze looking exactly where Taeyong wants him to look, and then Taeyong’s own gaze gets curtained with his shirt as he takes it completely off his head.
“No way!” Jaehyun is already laughing, almost hysteric.
Taeyong jumps off the footbridge without wasting another breath, Jaehyun’s bright laughter trailing behind him like a charm. The short, deafening moment of being mid-air where everything else is still and he’s the only one moving, down, down, catapulting to meet the cold water, is beyond euphoric. It’s terrifying but at the same time it takes him breathless and before he knows it, the water is splashing around him and his body is being enveloped by a familiar body of water.
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun’s voice booms from above and despite the obvious concern, the mirth still hasn’t left him.
Taeyong looks up to see him leaning on the railings. “More than okay, actually.”
“Don’t worry, I got your shirt!” Jaehyun shouts again, this time flinging Taeyong’s discarded shirt. There’s a blatant hint of teasing on his face. At this point he must be trolling the hell out of the other because why isn’t he in the water already? “I can’t say the same for your pants, though.”
“Stop worrying about my clothes and jump! You’re supposed to jump off.”
“What about getting home? The cold?”
“Your car has a heater.”
“Okay!” Jaehyun giggles. He takes off the cardigan and lays it carefully onto the ground. Then, closing his eyes and a shy grin on his face, he counts to three before he discards his shirt completely and throws it away somewhere behind him.
The sight that comes next as Jaehyun grips his hands on the railings, shirtless, smacks Taeyong harder than the water did when he landed, hindering him more breathless than cascading downwards in the air with an incredible speed. From his place in the water, Jaehyun looks absolutely glorious—his skin is peach and orange on the dips and shadows where the sunset aims its remaining beams on him like a criminal under a laser. A halo made up of sunset and early-night clouds forms behind his head, accentuating the hard, boyish frame of his neck and shoulders.
In this moment, Taeyong should be thinking he looks like an angel or something equally lovely and pure like that, but his mind is currently filled with anything but. It’s diluted and shameful, and he should stop before he starts popping a boner in the middle of the fucking river for real.
Jaehyun’s scream rips through the dusk as he plunges himself down. The water smacks and splashes and Taeyong has to swim away so his face wouldn’t fall victim for the second time.
“Oh, this is nice.” Jaehyun moans, swimming towards him. “If I would’ve known the water feels this good, I would’ve gone in with my boxers alone.”
“What happened to the kids? Have some shame!”
Jaehyun laughs openly just as daylight completely fades away into a bright summer evening. In a horrifying, vulnerable moment of clarity, Taeyong realizes it’s a sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life.
Is this a summer love? Is Jaehyun his summer lover? It’s funny because Taeyong can already imagine hearing this same laugh, but not under the footbridge in the river, shirtless, but surrounded by cherry blossoms in full bloom and wearing thicker cardigans to brave the cold, spring air.
Three days later, Jaehyun shows up at the convenience store without a car. He tells Taeyong he knows about a newly-opened Japanese restaurant that supposedly has a nice review on Naver, to which Taeyong—still in his uniform and is about to doze off—responds with a, “Are you asking me out on a date?”
The question momentarily paralyzes them both, but Jaehyun is quick to recover with a bolder statement of his own. “Yes, I’m indeed asking you out to a date. So will you go on a date with me?”
Taeyong has to grasp the corner of the counter to hold himself upright because his heart suddenly pounds so violently that he feels dizzy and his stomach fills up with phantom butterflies. Luckily, his shift ends in ten so Jaehyun doesn’t have to wait long and he curses the boy repeatedly as they step out into the night for not telling him about his plans earlier.
“I could’ve dressed myself better have you told me about this earlier. Why are you being unfair?” He whines like a child.
Jaehyun merely shushes him with a giggle and tells him he looks pretty in whatever he chooses to wear. It sounds so genuine and sincere and so adoring that Taeyong is so ready to go wherever Jaehyun wants to take them to.
“And why are we walking? Where is your car?”
“Walking is romantic. In walking, we can talk and maybe hold hands.”
Taeyong blushes but he bravely holds out his hand. Jaehyun smiles at him before intertwining their fingers together and their palms slide against one another so smoothly that it just feels so natural to fall into place. Taeyong has to focus his gaze on the laces of his shoes because he’s blushing so furiously yet he can’t help but to steal a glance at the taller. Jaehyun is already looking and they break out into quiet giggles.
Ironically in the end, walking is not romantic.
They’re clearly lost in their way. He blames Jaehyun for this. It seems like they’ve been walking in a loop for what could’ve been an easy fifteen-minute walk to the restaurant. Taeyong doesn’t say anything at first, too comfortable in holding Jaehyun’s hand on the sidewalks, but his stomach is starting to grumble.
Jaehyun is not so good in directions—that or his Hangul truly sucks. Taeyong decides to be an ass and teases him about it to which he pouts sullenly. He whips out his phone and reluctantly lets Taeyong read the directions in the screen. Taeyong tells him he’s cute and pinches him on the ear. Jaehyun’s ears turn a shade darker than before and he squeezes at their joined hands.
When they’re finally inside enjoying their fatty tuna rolls and sake, Jaehyun complains about the quality of the hostel he has booked on Airbnb and how the hell he has managed to endure it the entirety of his stay in Korea.
“You can stay in my place.” Taeyong blurts out. He means it.
Jaehyun’s chopsticks nearly fall out of his grasp. “Are you… sure?”
“Yes. How much time do you have left?”
“Six days.”
“Then spend it with me, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun stays in the spare bedroom but his presence lingers in every corner of the apartment.
Taeyong learns that he likes waking up to mornings where he doesn’t need to fix some coffee because Jaehyun has already prepared it. They would chat silently in the kitchen while their stomachs warm up. Taeyong would take the bus to work and Jaehyun would fetch him home after every shift.
Jaehyun cooks a lot, too. He has offered to cook their meals in gratitude that he has let him stay in his place. He would cook American-style dishes and Taeyong enjoys every single one of them.
One night when Taeyong is watching a re-run of a show in the TV, eating corn directly from a can, a quick flash from a camera momentarily engulfs the peripheral side of his face. Jaehyun has snapped a picture of him. He side-eyes the younger.
“What? You look hot.” Jaehyun mutters in his defense. He’s laughing. “You rock the smokey eye better than I do, like an eighties rock star. Sexy.”
Jaehyun has pinned him against the couch earlier to draw kohl around his eyes and messed up his hair for ‘an added effect’ after. The look on Jaehyun’s face once he has finished his little handiwork still makes Taeyong laugh because he can imagine himself looking at Jaehyun that way.
Despite the patent tension circling between, none of them has insinuated anything. On Jaehyun’s last night, though, after a particularly nice dinner and sipping on cheap wine in the kitchen, Jaehyun seems to have enough of Taeyong’s indecisiveness. He gently takes the glass out of Taeyong’s hand and leans in for a kiss, pausing just an inch away from his lips to give him a chance to back away if he doesn’t want to.
Taeyong walks his gaze up for a second to meet Jaehyun’s before he takes in a deep, shuddering breath and breaks the agonizing distance between them. Their lips meet at last, tender but potent, and the feeling knocks the wind out of Taeyong in time his mind bursts an image of a kohl-eyed Jaehyun and how he’s been wanting to taste his mouth ever since.
One of Jaehyun’s feverish hands come up to grasp the back of his head and the other anchors itself at the back of Taeyong’s thighs to mount him on counter. He opens his legs in response and locks Jaehyun inside them. Jaehyun’s tongue swipes at his bottom lip, begging for an entrance, and he opens his mouth to let him in. Taeyong can’t help but moan at the taste that ruptures through his senses, invading whatever crumbs of consciousness he’s able to have in this moment.
A warm palm rises to cup on his groin, feeling the growing hardness between his legs, and the moan that erupts deep in Taeyong’s throat gets swallowed by the ardency Jaehyun is putting into exploring every inch of his mouth. He begins rubbing his palm flat against the fabric of Taeyong’s pants and the friction it creates is so good that Taeyong might just lose his mind if Jaehyun decides to stop there.
Jaehyun does not stop there. With a swift tug at the pants, Taeyong’s cock springs up into view. He whimpers at the lack of warmth surrounding his aching member. Jaehyun growls lowly and Taeyong feels the sound rush through his spine, shaking him deep in the bones. Jaehyun dives back in to give him a kiss once more then he leans down his torso.
The image of Jaehyun having his mouth wrapped around Taeyong’s cock is too much to take in. His fingers slowly crawl their way up his thighs until they’re clutched at his hipbone causing his shirt to ride up higher, the tips pressing against the edge of his spine. Even the pressure at which Jaehyun is holding onto him slightly painfully spurs on his arousal.
Taeyong is whimpering, begging wantonly for a release. He cradles the side of Jaehyun’s face which bobs so eagerly back and forth on the length of his shaft, spit slicking the corners of his mouth. Jaehyun looks up to meet him in the eye and Taeyong just lost it—he comes promptly into the wet cavern of Jaehyun’s mouth, cursing his name repeatedly, and he feels his fingers press against the knobs of his spine while he rides out his high.
He’s breathless by the end of it all but there’s a particular sense of satisfaction rooting from his core that he thinks has never been quenched to such a degree as this before. Jaehyun is amazing—in every sense of the word, and he’s also a sweetheart by tucking Taeyong’s pants back into place and landing a sweet kiss to his forehead.
But Taeyong is quite not done yet. Jaehyun is smiling when he takes him by the face and kisses him ardently. Slowly, he dismounts himself off the counter without breaking the kiss and pushes Jaehyun patiently until his back hits the wall.
He can feel how much Jaehyun wants him through his pants—the prominent hardness of his cock and the slight wetness surrounding the area. Taeyong positions a knee between Jaehyun’s legs and is pleased when the boy gasps breathlessly in response. He starts moving his leg against Jaehyun’s clothed cock, putting enough pressure so that Jaehyun quivers against his lips and his arms anchor themselves on his shoulders so he wouldn’t collapse from how good Taeyong is doing him.
Taeyong moves to lick a stripe on the side of his neck, biting and nibbling whilst his leg continues to work up Jaehyun’s release. He feels like a child during Christmas when Jaehyun moans loudly, the sickeningly sweet sound pouring directly into his ear like honey. One particular solid pressure and Jaehyun’s vision turns white. He rests his forehead against Taeyong’s shoulder, panting heavily but laughter already rolling on his tongue. He just soiled his pants like a hormonal teenager.
For a moment, only the sound of their breaths can be heard in the space.
“Oh my God.” Jaehyun pants. “This was honestly the best two weeks of my life.”
Taeyong hums and wraps his arms around him, burying his face at the juncture and breathing in his scent. “I’m going to miss you the moment you step out of my house tomorrow.”
“What do you mean? I’ll be back in two months.” He can feel the vibrations of Jaehyun’s voice through his chest. “I… I really like you, Taeyong. You’re amazing. And unless you don’t want to, I want to keep doing this. We’ll keep in touch. I’ll call you and text you until you get annoyed with me. And by the time everything’s settled, maybe I can properly pursue you. Do you want that? Courtship and all?”
Taeyong laughs. “I’m not the conservative type of person. Pretty sure what we just did isn’t so conservative either.”
Jaehyun laughs as well—Jaehyun with his occasional broken Korean and thick American accent and his stunning kohl-drawn eyes. Oh, Taeyong is down bad, wholly and headlong.