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Jaemin, for reasons unknown to all of mankind, has made it his life’s goal to drive Chenle insane enough to be admitted to a mental ward. Carted off to the loony bin with grippy socks and everything.
Even worse, no one believes him. He’s tried talking to Mark (mistake), Kun (even worse mistake), and even Jeno, who didn’t seem to understand why Chenle was upset in the first place.
That was another mistake on Chenle’s part, he’ll admit. Sometimes he forgets that Jeno’s been the willing victim of Jaemin’s obsessive scrutiny and love for several years.
Last year, Chenle had asked Jeno what kind of bicycle he’d first learned how to ride during one of their movie nights. Jaemin had cut him off to answer the exact model and what year Jeno had gotten it. He even went so far as to mention another time Jeno had gotten stitches on his arm after falling off the bike when he was younger, and how the hospital stay traumatized him for a good few years.
Jeno had just munched on his popcorn and nodded along at parts of the story, completely unbothered. There’s not even a visible scar on Jeno’s arm. Chenle has no idea how the hell he learned that.
Over the last few weeks, the target of Jaemin’s psychotic attention has shifted from Jeno to Chenle. He’s pretty sure it has something to do with Jeno spending a lot more time with Renjun lately. There’s something sinister brewing between them that Chenle wants absolutely no part of.
If Renjun wants to put Jeno on a leash and lead him around his bedroom like a little dog, that’s none of Chenle’s business. But it does mean that Jaemin has a lot more free time lately now that he’s not living in his crazy Jeno-centric world. Which also means he’s looking for more prey to sink his claws into.
Chenle’s not even sure he wants to be Jaemin’s next chew toy, which is why this new development is stressing him out.
The first noticeable difference in Jaemin’s daily routine arrives in the form of him coming over to Chenle’s place unannounced a lot more than he usually does (which is never), sometimes with Xiaojun or Mark in tow. He shoulders his way inside past Chenle with the excuse of wanting to pet Daegal or to play games or cook a meal in Chenle’s kitchen.
Okay, the last one is admittedly not as annoying - Jaemin is a good cook when he chooses to be, while Chenle usually just lives off of whatever food is placed in front of him at any given moment.
Jaemin seems to have figured this out and uses it to his advantage. Almost every time he visits, Chenle eats well while Jaemin watches him with a satisfied smile.
He doesn’t even try to hide his stare. Freak.
But it’s still annoying, and different, considering Jaemin never used to visit his house before. The only times he’d see Jaemin outside work would be whenever he stayed at the dorms during comeback season. Or, on a few memorable occasions, when he had too much to drink with one of the members and crashed in Jisung’s bed.
It leaves him off-kilter every time he opens his door to Jaemin’s innocently-smiling face. He’d have to be a real idiot to believe Jaemin’s who, me? act for even a second.
Even when Jaemin’s not inviting himself over to Chenle’s apartment, he’s consistently in his space all the fucking time.
Riding in the car to and from the company, he’s got his body shoved up against Chenle’s, their knees knocking together with every twist and turn in the road. Piled together in the living room watching some stupid movie Donghyuck picked out, Jaemin somehow wiggles his way onto the one-person recliner with Chenle and pulls him into his lap. At his weekly dinners with Kun and Renjun, Jaemin tags along and spends the entire time shoveling his food onto Chenle’s plate, leaning against his shoulder as he watches Chenle eat both portions with suspiciously single-minded focus yet again.
It’s getting to the point where the others are starting to notice. Renjun observes them carefully whenever Jaemin gets too close, too handsy. Kun doesn’t even bat an eye.
The second difference Chenle notices is a change in Jaemin’s physical stature.
The thin grey sweatpants that he always wears around the house start to cling tighter to his thighs, and his threadbare shirts are permanently stretched in the chest and arms. It’s on the border between indecent and unbearably sexy.
Jaemin stops going with Jeno to the gym sporadically and starts going on his own. He meets with a personal trainer for an hour almost every day, no matter what type of schedule they have.
Chenle goes with him once (at Jaemin’s insistence - there’s no saying no to him) and never wants to think about that awful day again in his life. The fact that Jaemin has more muscle than Jeno now is enough to blow his mind every day normally. He doesn’t need to watch Jaemin doing a bicep curl directly in front of his face to hammer the point home ever again.
The third difference is the most devastating.
It starts with Jaemin inviting himself over to cook for Chenle as usual. Chenle still can’t find his way around a kitchen even if there’s a gun to his head, but he stays hovering by Jaemin’s side every time he cooks for unnamed reasons.
He doesn’t want to look too closely at it.
Jaemin had tasked him with cutting green peppers into thin slices. The peppers he cuts are horribly uneven, but it’s as good as he’s gonna get while Jaemin’s in the same room. He doesn’t even have to do anything to distract Chenle - just existing in his presence is enough to mess him up.
Jaemin walks behind him and brushes a careful hand along Chenle’s waist. He dips down beside Chenle’s head, encircling a hand around his middle and whispering in his ear, “You’re doing a good job, princess.”
The ambient kitchen noise around him whites out like someone pulled the plug.
Not knowing whether to elbow Jaemin in the guts or throw his head back and moan, he settles for pushing him off and choking out, “Princess? Are you serious?” Chenle sets the knife down and takes a deep breath before turning to face him.
Jaemin backs up a few inches and gazes at him steadily, standing his ground. His buff arms protrude out where they’re crossed against his chest and draw Chenle’s traitorous eyes. Jesus.
By the time Chenle can meet Jaemin’s own eyes again, he’s smirking.
“I’m not a girl?” Chenle states, firmly, but it comes out like a question. Like he’s not sure.
“Never said you were, princess,” Jaemin replies cooly.
That word again. “But it’s -,” Chenle cuts himself off, face bright red. He can’t argue back when all he hears is a low buzzing like someone locked an angry fly in his brain cabinet.
“It’s what?” Jaemin asks, raising an eyebrow. Chenle just shakes his head. For the very first time in his life, he doesn’t have anything to say. Jaemin appears to let it go as he goes back to boiling the water, but not before Chenle catches another smirk on his face.
The interaction leaves him feeling off-balance (and more than a little aroused) but he follows Jaemin’s lead. He goes back to slicing the peppers on auto-pilot, mind a little empty. Jaemin leaves him alone for the rest of the night - which should’ve been the first warning sign.
Jaemin sleeps over since they have the next day off again. In the morning, he whispers “Good girl,” when Chenle passes him the salt. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
As they walk downstairs to head into the company - their day off apparently not counting for shit when their manager is involved - Jaemin rests a hand on his lower back. “Don’t want you to fall, princess.”
Chenle swears he’s on the verge of tears.
It gets worse when they get to the practice room and meet up with Shotaro and the rest of the dreamies. Shotaro smiles sunnily at Chenle, and Jaemin immediately drops a possessive arm around him where they’re walking. He murmurs more pretty words into Chenle’s ears in front of everyone.
He watches Chenle in the mirror while they’re fucking around with a TikTok dance that Mark had wanted to try. Determined to ignore him, Chenle pulls Shotaro into a corner to discuss one of the more difficult moves. After a minute, he feels a weight on his back and startles.
Across from him, Shotaro’s eyes go wide.
Jaemin had draped himself over Chenle’s back as soon as the camera stopped rolling. He keeps eye contact with Shotaro and whispers, “You look so cute today, kitty,” in Chenle’s ear before slouching off to go bother Jisung.
KITTY, Chenle thinks wildly, Shotaro all but forgotten. His face turns an ugly shade of red again and his heart almost leaps out of his throat. Kitty. That’s not even - it isn’t - it doesn’t even make sense for Chenle to be into that, but he is anyway.
Across the room, Jaemin pulls Jisung into a headlock as if nothing happened and leaves a wet kiss on his cheek. Kitty. Princess. Good girl. What the fuck.
The pet names mess with his basic brain chemistry, he’s sure. That has to be why Chenle continues to get slightly aroused whenever Jaemin even so much as breathes in his direction - there’s no other possible explanation.
Chenle blows the rest of the group off and leaves the practice room unannounced. He can feel Jaemin’s stare burning into his back, but he really doesn’t care. He needs to calm down, he needs to come to terms with what exactly this is, and, more importantly, he needs a drink.
-
The fourth and final difference is entirely Chenle’s fault.
Chenle’s attraction to Jaemin skyrockets sometime between his new revenge body debut and his obsession with calling Chenle feminine terms. Really, he thinks he's handling the mental break particularly well, all things considered.
He is, however, thoroughly freaked out by how much he actually likes the way Jaemin’s been treating him, the way he wants Jaemin in that way. Wants Jaemin to call him - well. He’s not going to think about it right now.
In order to live in peace, he starts actively ignoring all of Jaemin’s attempts to spend time together.
Jaemin keeps pestering him to let him come over and play CS:GO, but Chenle determinedly feeds him constant excuses that his poor old laptop is too slow or it lags every few minutes, hyung or you’re just going to win and gloat about it and I don’t want to hear it.
Each time, Jaemin stares him down for a few seconds, unblinking and serious in that kind psychopath manner of his, and walks away without a word.
He sulks for an entire week after the third time Chenle blows him off in a row, stubbornly riding back in a separate car after they finished filming a livestream at the company.
In reality, Chenle’s laptop works just fine. Sure, it’s a bit slow whenever he loads a pre-game lobby, but it’s efficient enough that he’s never considered the need to buy a new one.
He just doesn’t see the need to spend any more extra time with Jaemin if he’s determined to get over this stupid… infatuation. He’s in his twenties, he refuses to call it a crush.
They never used to be close outside of the group before Jaemin started acting like this. Chenle used to prefer hanging out with his baby Jeno, or Mark, or Kun and Xiaojun if the dreamies got too annoying.
All his life consists of now is Jaemin. He doesn’t remember the last time he even heard from Xiaojun, though he texts with Kun regularly. Jaemin constantly asks him to hang out, to go play games together or cook, to go shopping and out to dinner and to the movies, like he has sole rights to all of Chenle’s free time. He also corners him in the dorms, calling him princess and kitty and good girl, and treating him like something fragile. Something precious. Something special.
Maybe if he ignores Jaemin long enough, he’ll stop feeling so… so… something. But the morning after Chenle dodges another attempt to hang out, he wakes up to the first gift.
Jaemin bought him a nice fucking desktop computer. A giant monster of a PC with bleeding-edge technology - a 64-core i9 processor, three-piece energy-efficient water-cooling system, and, to top it off, two sleek 4K monitors bigger than half his body.
The whole thing costs roughly the same as a brand new mid-size sedan or a modest refurbished family home. Chenle’s obsessed.
Jaemin’s almost casual about it after Chenle tackles him in a hug and squishes his cheeks. “You have no excuse not to play with me now, princess. You can get it set up and we can play. Tomorrow.”
The surface level of Chenle’s brain works immediately to take advantage of Jaemin’s philanthropy by pure instinct alone, even when his rational brain hasn’t grasped the situation yet. Or why he’s talking to Jaemin again.
“You know what would help me be able to really play?” He lightly whines, batting his eyelashes. It gets him an intense look that he can’t quite read, two more whispered pet names, and a new Corsair keyboard with RGB backlighting and macro keys to really tie it all together.
The feeling of Jaemin buying him whatever he wants while calling him precious names makes Chenle squirm whenever he thinks about it for too long.
Nothing else will ever quite live up to the very first gift, but it serves its purpose to get Chenle’s attention. He’s content enough to start treating Jaemin like normal again.
Or rather, to treat him how Jaemin wants to be treated - and to receive the way that Jaemin treats him in return.
-
Jaemin gifts Chenle smaller presents several times a week, evil little grin firmly in place when Chenle accepts whatever he gives him. He buys his meals, takes him out for dinner and dessert at least twice a week, and lunch every other week when they have some free time.
The two of them also accompany Donghyuck out whenever he doesn’t want to eat alone (which is every day, actually, but he normally drags Renjun along instead), and Jaemin always takes care of the bill before Chenle can even lift a finger.
Donghyuck is so distracted nowadays that he never picks up on whatever’s going on between him and Jaemin, and Chenle’s so fucking thankful for it.
They game together now more than ever, anything and everything, Counter-Strike and FIFA and Sims 4 - even Jeno’s pilfered copy of The Witcher (the third one, obviously). Half the time, they don’t even use Chenle’s enormous new PC.
Jaemin always tricks him into coming to his room where he can drag Chenle onto the bed and have him all to himself.
He’ll pull Chenle on his lap and run his hands up Chenle’s thighs, dipping teasingly under the seam of his shirt, trying to cop a feel of his trim waist. Jaemin murmurs “Pretty, baby, so perfect,” under his breath quiet enough that Chenle wouldn’t be able to hear if he was even a centimeter further away.
All Chenle can do is sit there and shake. Neither of them speaks above a whisper or makes eye contact as Jaemin pets up and down Chenle’s sides methodically, both pretending to watch whatever Netflix show he puts on.
It almost seems like Jaemin doesn’t want to shatter the fantasy either by acknowledging what they’re doing - the silent agreement between them, the mind game.
Once Jaemin’s gotten his fill of driving Chenle crazy, he’ll usually turn off Netflix and grab his Switch. After arranging Chenle in his lap to his liking, they’ll waste an hour playing Animal Crossing pressed together like that. Jaemin’s hand always leaves the console and tries to creep back inside Chenle’s shirt or past the waistband of his shorts. The way he traces over the line of his boxer-briefs is almost contemplative.
“So good, kitty,” Jaemin will whisper again, so fucking embarrassing, but so - god, Chenle doesn’t even know, but he knows he likes it. Kitty. It’s so demeaning.
Jaemin starts crowding him up against all of the various appliances and countertops in the kitchen. He drops his face into Chenle’s neck to nose at his collarbone and just barely brushes his lower half against Chenle’s ass.
There’s the slightest suggestion of hot, hard pressure - and then it’s gone, leaving Chenle gripping onto whatever useless object he grabbed out of the kitchen cabinet. He fights down a sharp jolt of arousal and feels like he imagined the whole thing.
The situation gets code-red-critical after Chenle starts wearing the next gifts that Jaemin buys for him.
Really, he should’ve known after all the attention that Jaemin pays to his waist and the cut of his underwear, that the next step would be something… sinister.
Panties. Literal, honest-to-god panties - four pairs of them. They’re not too flamboyant, but they are varying shades of dark blue and red with a small design at the waist. Chenle takes a deep breath and locks his door.
He picks one pair up out of the box Jaemin had handed to him earlier cool as day, touching the softest high-end silk that Chenle’s felt since living with his parents. The simple design is complete with a hint of lace trim around the waistband.
Delicate. Beautiful. The little bow on the front stares up at him mockingly.
This is the furthest in their little game that Jaemin’s dared to go so far. Actual concrete evidence that Chenle’s not just fucking imagining this.
The pet names, the light touches, the extra attention - Jaemin could’ve just been playing with him this entire time. It could’ve been a way for him to blow off steam, or just a rebound to focus his energy on after Jeno.
It could’ve also been some other stupid reason. He doesn’t claim to know how Jaemin’s brain works. But the lingerie… This is proof that Jaemin actually wants him.
That Jaemin… wants him like that. Want Chenle to be pretty for him, to be his - shit, Chenle can’t even say it. He takes a deep breath and consciously doesn’t fight back against the emotions warring inside him.
A simple post on his public social media is an innocent enough gift for Jaemin in return, sent off a few hours after Chenle receives the panties. If he slips in an innocent pet name of his own, it’s just to help his own agenda.
He’s observed how Jaemin acted with Jeno for enough years now to recognize the silently possessive undertone to all of his actions, and exactly how to feed into it. Pairing that with his newfound knowledge of what Jaemin’s into thanks to their little game, Chenle calls Jaemin president and boss and hyung, not quite willing to stretch his imagination further than that just yet. Plausible deniability and him are old friends.
He puts on the silk underwear that Jaemin got him whenever they’re lounging around on an off day, or when Jaemin comes over to his apartment on the weekend. Each time, Jaemin looks him in the eye, catalogs the embarrassed look on his face, and pushes him up against the nearest surface to just stare at him.
He’ll pet innocently over Chenle’s waist, barely shimmying his shorts down until a hint of maroon lace is showing over the top and his breathing quickens -
All in all, the experience is erotic as hell, and Jaemin never even does anything. He’ll shove Chenle away at the last second, right as his hand is creeping up Chenle’s thigh towards his cock. As Chenle is breathing heavily, still in whatever headspace Jaemin likes catapulting him into, Jaemin will casually insist they invite Mark or Jungwoo over to play Mario Kart or FIFA.
It’s insane-person behavior.
Chenle figures all of this will wear off eventually if he doesn’t break from the sexual frustration first. His little infatuation will fade, especially since Jaemin hasn’t even fucked him yet. He hasn’t even done so much as kiss him even when they’re alone in a room, Chenle’s pliant body underneath his, time stretching like it’s just them two on the planet.
For his sanity, he imagines Jaemin will figure out a way to steal Jeno back from Renjun’s possessive grip and everything will go back to normal, without Chenle having embarrassed himself too much. If that’s even possible, at this point.
-
He’s dead wrong. If anything, the game gets worse, and Jaemin gets more and more blatant with his behavior. More daring with his requests and the way he treats Chenle.
Chenle comes back to the dorms to shower after spending the day with Yangyang, too lazy to go back to his own place even after weighing the consequences of seeing Jaemin. The devil himself follows him into the bathroom the moment Chenle gets back to their floor, closing the door and locking it forebodingly behind him.
Tilting his head, Jaemin pulls out a straight razor and a pink bottle of shaving cream, which Chenle’s face proceeds to turn the same shade of. The expression on Jaemin’s own face is a little intense.
“Let me help you shave.” It’s not a request. Chenle ends up sitting on the counter in the tiny bathroom, legs splayed out as Jaemin crowds against him in between his thighs, running his hands up them slowly.
“Hyung, I don’t think -,” Chenle starts, suddenly feeling extremely out of his depth, but stops once he sees the look in Jaemin’s eyes.
“Don’t you want to be pretty for me?” Jaemin asks, voice quiet in the small space of the bathroom. He stares at Chenle for a loaded moment and Chenle doesn’t bother fighting back again. He lets Jaemin lift his shirt over his head without complaint.
He lathers the cream all over and shaves Chenle’s armpits gently, as well as the few chest hairs he has, with the sharp blade.
Freak, Chenle thinks fondly, distantly watching Jaemin’s tongue poke out of the side of his mouth as he swipes the razor across Chenle’s underarms, and then freezes. Since when does he find Jaemin’s psychopathic tendencies cute?
The blade drags over the column of Chenle’s throat suddenly and he swallows, desperately trying to hide the way the action contributes to the steadily growing heat in his gut. The amount of trust the action requires doesn’t escape either of them. Jaemin watches him so closely that he can probably see every pore on Chenle’s face.
He’s silent during the entire process, token protests already voiced (and ignored), heart beating quicker with every brush of Jaemin’s hand on his body. Jaemin keeps looking at him the entire time, making Chenle’s heart stop every time their eyes meet.
“Tilt your head back. A little more - lean to the left. That’s it, good job,” The murmured instructions go directly to Chenle’s bloodstream.
He scoots Chenle back on the sink and lifts one of his legs. Jaemin caresses his calf and runs his fingers lightly over the ankle bone, trying to hold eye contact as he does it. Chenle’s more than a little turned on at this point and ducks his head to avoid Jaemin’s gaze.
“Eyes on me, please,” A request, this time, and Chenle acquiesces. There’s not much at this point that he wouldn’t do for Jaemin. Or let Jaemin do to him. Shit.
“Your legs are going to be so smooth, so soft,” Jaemin crouches down and breathes the words across the skin of Chenle’s thighs, causing him to shiver.
His mouth ends up awfully close to where Chenle’s shorts are bunched around his thighs on the sink counter. Jaemin drags the razor up and down his legs methodically, rinsing the suds in the sink every so often, and Chenle counts to ten in his head.
By the time Jaemin finishes with his other leg, Chenle’s fully hard in his shorts and trying his best to hide it. Jaemin catches him hiding and stands back up, lifting the leg he’d just finished shaving.
“There you go, good girl, we’re all done,” Jaemin croons as he leaves a light kiss over Chenle’s ankle, mouthing over the thin skin. Chenle whimpers, extremely against his will, and Jaemin’s head shoots up to lock eyes with him, heated stare boring into Chenle’s own flustered one.
The moment stretches -
“What the fuck are you guys doing in there?” Renjun’s bored tone echoes through the door, startling Chenle into pulling his leg out of Jaemin’s hold and shoving him back with his heel. It does wonders to clear the fog in his head. Jaemin just grabs onto Chenle’s ankle again where he’s being kicked, fast as lightning, and squeezes once. Like a promise.
By the time Chenle can wrap his head around what just happened in the last 20 minutes, Jaemin is slinking out the door past an exasperated Renjun. He’s left holding the razor, entire body smooth as a - a girl’s, and still unshowered.
-
Chenle has the distinct thought that he wants to be Jaemin’s girlfriend on an otherwise normal evening in the middle of the week. He’s not even doing anything particularly special - just watching Jaemin install some brand-new speakers above his gaming setup, the latest gift that Jaemin got him.
Three hours earlier, Jaemin had cornered him in the bathroom again right after Chenle’s after-practice shower at the dorms. He proceeded to rub lotion all over Chenle’s body and check the progress of his shaved hair, frowning as he cataloged the growth. Jaemin had murmured, “We’ll need to wax you soon,” and didn’t even try to feel Chenle up, which was quite frankly offensive as hell.
When they’d finished, Jaemin had extended a hand and helped Chenle jump down from the sink, still treating him like he was fragile. The fly in his brain cabinet started buzzing again, and he was quick to invite Jaemin over to his place for once.
Jaemin’s eyes had lit up at the request, seemingly pleased that Chenle actually extended the invite first, probably thinking that Chenle wanted to spend time with him. In reality, Chenle’s whole body felt smooth and he just wanted Jaemin to keep touching him. He’s startled from the memory as Jaemin drops the stereo jack for the third time and curses, arms flexing as he holds the shelf up with one hand and grabs for the cord with the other.
Chenle suddenly thinks, very clearly, that if he was Jaemin’s girlfriend that Jaemin would be able to protect him, to be able to hold him down almost laughably easily.
The building could’ve burnt down around them and Chenle wouldn’t have moved a centimeter. The realization was enough to make him sick, with want and realization and something a little nastier.
Jaemin finishes putting Chenle’s speakers up in silence, only muttering the occasional expletive and, at one point, a whine in aegyo for Chenle’s attention about how hard he was working. He’s oblivious to the potentially life-altering thoughts in Chenle’s head.
It’s not just infatuation or a weird mutual obsession. He wants to be Jaemin’s girlfriend.
Jaemin places the last cord behind the faux-paint tape Chenle had asked for quite prettily and crosses the room to him with a big grin on his face. It’s a grin Chenle wants pressed against his own.
He lets Jaemin graze a hand over his ass, where he’s wearing the midnight blue panties Jaemin had gotten for him, and plans his next move.
-
The full set he orders online is truly beautiful, an open-concept babydoll with a lace flower embroidery in a muted yellow - Jaemin’s favorite color. He uses a Jeno-approved website and the box shows up at his apartment on a day that Jeno’s keeping Jaemin busy, eliminating any potential suspicion. God, Chenle loves that guy.
Quickly, Chenle grabs his lube and shoves a few fingers up his ass, methodically opening himself up. If the night goes how he planned, he wants to be ready.
Once he’s sufficiently stretched, he pulls the set out of the box and slips the various straps around his waist and thighs. Chenle had gotten professionally and discreetly waxed that morning, stripping his entire lower half of hair in hopes of driving Jaemin into doing - something, when he sees it.
His legs are baby-soft and smell faintly of fruity soap and fresh linen. The stockings that came with the set come up to the tops of his thighs, and Chenle thinks he looks… nice. Elegant. Breakable, valuable. Something to be desired.
Chenle checks his reflection in the mirror as he drapes Jaemin’s black heart necklace around his neck, sloping over his collarbone and meshing with the yellow of the lingerie quite nicely. He’d stolen it out of Jaemin’s vanity yesterday after movie night, another part of his evil plan.
He snaps a few pictures in the mirror with his ass pushed out and trim waist accentuated - he knows his angles by heart.
Doyoung had gotten fed up with him and Jeno one day and put them through his unhinged school of proper selfie-taking. Chenle had graduated Summa Cum Laude, though Doyoung probably hadn’t intended on him using the skill for this. Chenle’s sure Jeno’s definitely used it for far worse - maybe even to send to Doyoung himself - so he doesn’t give it too much thought.
After picking the most alluring pictures, ones where the angle of his thigh just hides his cock tucked away in the lace panties, the yellow fabric stretching deliciously over his skin, and the shadow of his chest giving the illusion of a full bralette. His face isn’t visible in any of them, but Jaemin will know it’s him. He probably knows Chenle’s body like the back of his own hand by now just from their, ah - gaming sessions.
Chenle quickly sends the pictures off to Jaemin with a rushed ‘for you, oppa’. He’s been saving the word for when he knows for sure that he’s sure - for when he finally wants to give in and give himself to Jaemin in that way.
They’ve been toeing the line between appropriate and decidedly not for so long. He knows this will push Jaemin over the edge.
Swiping to Instagram, he posts a bunch of pictures of the latest meal Jaemin had bought for him, calling him oppa again in the caption - publicly this time. He hopes this will contribute even further to the effect of the pictures he sent, provoking Jaemin’s obsession.
After he sets his plan in motion, it’s a waiting game. Chenle stays in the lingerie but cleans up his room hastily, not wanting to assume but wanting to be prepared all the same. It’s getting dark outside, summer fading into autumn faster than he’s ready for, and Chenle switches on the dim lamp by his bed so he can see properly. He gets lost in changing the bed sheets, only looking up in surprise when he hears the front door click.
It’s only been thirteen minutes since Chenle sent off The Pictures™, but only two people other than his manager have a key to Chenle’s apartment, and Kun never shows up unannounced. Jaemin, however, had stolen one of Chenle’s spare keys that were hanging on a hook and made himself a personal copy sometime in the last several weeks.
Chenle had noticed and just pretended to turn a blind eye.
In the time that Chenle spends frozen, Jaemin appears in the doorway to the bedroom, breathing a little unevenly. He drags his eyes down Chenle’s figure where the sheet is still in his hands, partly covering his body.
The weight of Jaemin’s gaze is like a physical touch on his skin. His eyes catch on every last detail of Chenle’s body - raking hungrily over the way the babydoll artfully falls around his waist, the stockings that frame Chenle’s thighs, the panties that are coquettishly hidden by the blanket he’s still holding.
Jaemin grips the side of the door hard enough that Chenle hears the wood creak under his hands, mouth falling open, “Fuck, Chenle,” He breathes out.
Chenle lets go of the sheet, still not moving - he might’ve forgotten how to, his brain is racing faster than he can keep up - and Jaemin takes a few steps forward through the doorway. His eyes are almost black from desire and firmly fixed on what the blanket had revealed. When he reaches Chenle, he stops half a step away and knots a hand through his hair immediately, not quite pulling but definitely a firm grip. It makes Chenle inhale, sharp, feeling a little out of his comfort zone now that the moment's actually here. He kind of loves it.
Jaemin seems tongue-tied as he uses his other hand to thumb at the necklace adorning Chenle’s neck, his necklace.
He whispers, “You look gorgeous, baby, my perfect little girl,” and Chenle stumbles forward from the force of sheer want, crossing the last little bit of space into his arms. Jaemin catches him like he knew he would and immediately captures Chenle’s mouth in a kiss.
Finally fucking kissing Jaemin feels unreal. The muscles in his biceps shift under Chenle’s hungry fingers, scrambling at Jaemin’s arms as he siphons the breath from his lungs. His tongue slides against Jaemin’s where it sweeps across the inside of his mouth, dirty like he’s trying to consume him whole.
“Jaemin -,” Chenle gasps against his mouth, barely able to come up for air. Jaemin doesn’t let him get another word out.
He slots his fingers against Chenle’s ribs, holding him in place as the kiss turns demanding. Jaemin’s hands are almost big enough to span the width of his waist and Chenle feels a little dizzy with it.
Jaemin sucks on his tongue for a second before breaking the kiss, lifting him up, and spinning him around - using his strength to show off for Chenle, somehow reading him perfectly.
He must know all of Chenle’s tells to keep perfectly hitting everything he likes dead on. Showing off his muscles, calling Chenle pet names and now manhandling him around, and stuff Chenle didn’t even know about himself before, treating him as if -
As if he’s Jaemin’s girlfriend. His girl.
Thwack, thwack, thwack. Like whack-a-mole.
When Chenle lands, Jaemin quickly backs him up against the side of the bed, not even giving him a second to get his bearings. Jaemin curves a hand down his spine and smoothes the babydoll down before coming to a rest on the small of Chenle’s back.
The tips of Jaemin’s fingers land on the swell of his ass, dipping teasingly under the lace trim.
Chenle tilts his head up beseechingly and Jaemin chuckles before leaning down to steal another kiss. “Good, just like that, angel,” He murmurs against Chenle’s lips. Without the inserts in Chenle’s shoes that he normally wears, Jaemin towers over him enough to make him feel extra tiny. The broadness of his chest and arms box Chenle in and he falls backward onto the bed.
He bounces a little with an oof, pushing up on his elbows immediately to watch Jaemin shuck off his shoes and pants. When he pulls his shirt over his head with one hand, Chenle’s eyes immediately catch on the way his ridiculous muscles practically glisten in the low light.
Jaemin catches him staring and flexes obnoxiously before grabbing the lube out of Chenle’s bedside drawer (how the fuck did he know it was in there? Chenle’s going to have to beat his ass later for snooping) and tossing it beside Chenle’s body.
After divesting himself of his underwear, Jaemin practically tackles him on the bed. Chenle squawks in protest, too focused on the free gun show in front of him to notice what was about to happen.
“Is this all for me?” Jaemin breathes in his ear as he pushes himself up on his hands and Chenle shivers before nodding, “Yeah, it’s - it’s for you.” If possible, Jaemin’s eyes get even darker. The weight of his gaze feels molten on Chenle's skin. Jaemin shifts the stance of his body and reaches down to thumb one of his nipples through the lace.
“Shit, baby, you really are perfect. Dressing up for me without me even asking, letting me touch you like this-,” Jaemin pinches his nipple suddenly and Chenle cries out. “And your tits are so sensitive, you’re incredible.”
Chenle mentally screams before replying, “Don’t - don’t call them that,” He’s being contrary just because he can, but the words take a minute to get out as Jaemin never stops messing with his chest. Jaemin grins and leans down to suck at the bud through the fabric and Chenle groans, tossing his head back.
“But your tits are so cute, you don’t want me to play with them? I thought you were going to be a good girl for me,” Jaemin says, voice both teasing and serious. He drags his tongue across the other nipple and Chenle makes a noise as if he’d been punched.
They’ve barely done anything yet but Chenle can’t quite get his voice to work, swallowing and exhaling shakily as he realizes Jaemin’s still waiting for a reply.
Fuck it. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, hyung -,” He croaks out, about to resort to begging when Jaemin hushes him.
“Shh,” Jaemin tucks his fingers under Chenle’s ass, pulling the panties to the side. “That’s it, let me take care of you.” He thumbs over Chenle’s hole and swears under his breath, mouth falling open a little when he sees how stretched he is already.
“You’re so wet for me,” Jaemin breathes, slipping two fingers inside and making Chenle gasp. “Like a girl. I could take you right here, slide into you like fucking nothing, your pussy’s so loose.”
Chenle moans, low and long. Jaemin’s thwacking all his kinks again and he’s never been this turned on in his goddamn life.
“D- Do it, hyung,” Chenle says. Jaemin only shakes his head.
“My princess isn’t thinking straight. Am I your hyung, baby? Is that how good girls talk to their boyfriends?” Jaemin asks, clicking his tongue mockingly.
Chenle blushes a deep red. Boyfriend.
Then his mind catches up and he groans internally. He should’ve known Jaemin would latch onto the honorific. Chenle glares weakly up at him but he doesn’t budge, just slips in a third finger and pumps them in and out.
“Fine. Oppa, do it,” Chenle grits the words out, flushing even redder as he hears himself, grinding down against Jaemin’s fingers.
“Do what? I don’t know what you want,” Jaemin smiles innocently as he teases but his gaze is way too predatory to really sell it. He gropes and squeezes at Chenle’s chest with his other hand, snapping the band of the bralette against his already abused nipples and making him whimper pathetically.
He hates Jaemin. “Please fuck me, oppa, I’ve been so good for you. Please,”
Jaemin keeps smiling and pulls his fingers out. He wipes them on the lingerie and Chenle breaks out of the haze fogging up his mind to smack him on the arm.
“Dick, do you know how expensive - fuck,” Chenle breaks off with a moan as Jaemin ignores him to drop down and lick his cock through the lace.
His mouth is hot and wet against where Chenle’s leaking through the fabric. He runs his tongue along where the head peeks out and Chenle keeps letting out desperate bitten-off noises.
Without so much as a warning, Jaemin stops mouthing at him and reaches under his back to flip him on his tummy. Chenle makes another undignified noise and he can hear Jaemin chuckling from behind him.
“Okay baby, I’ll fuck you - but I want to taste your pretty little pussy first,” Jaemin punctuates the words with small shallow bites to the back of his thighs. Chenle’s skin feels like it’s burning the more Jaemin talks, and he doesn’t have the energy to protest when Jaemin rips the panties right down the middle and immediately presses his tongue into Chenle.
Despite how frantic Jaemin’s actions seem, the way he takes Chenle apart is caring, sensual. He eats Chenle out like a man possessed, licking inside where he’s wet and loose, carving out a space inside of Chenle just for himself.
Chenle loses time like that as Jaemin fucks his tongue in and out, legs quivering as he bites and sucks at Chenle’s ass and thighs, letting out high-pitched sounds as Jaemin really gives it to him. He only comes back to reality when Jaemin pulls back and spreads his hole open with his thumbs, muttering, “God, look at you,”
“Please - I’m, ah, I’m ready - please,” Chenle straight up begs into the pillow, feeling exposed, words muffled as Jaemin leaves one last sucking kiss to his hole.
“You’re ready for my cock? Do you think it’ll fit? You’re so small, princess, I might break you.” Logically, Chenle knows Jaemin’s just talking shit, but it makes the blood rush in his veins.
“I can, I can take it, give it to me, I promise I can take it,” Chenle’s getting desperate at this point, needing Jaemin inside of him, talking down to him, treating him like he’s precious, staring at him like he never wants to be anywhere else.
Jaemin flips him on his back again without warning, before upending half the bottle of lube onto Chenle’s ass. He smears it around and gets him even wetter, like he really does have a pussy. The mental image is so fucking sexy, but -
“Asshole, don’t get lube on my sheets.” Jaemin looks at him incredulously, probably wondering how Chenle’s still clear-headed enough to bitch at him. He slips four fingers back inside Chenle in retaliation.
“You can buy more, brat,” Jaemin replies.
“The thread count on - these, fuck, I -,” Chenle's words cut out as Jaemin rolls his eyes and seems to deem him ready, pulling his fingers out before lining up and sliding into him in one smooth motion.
Chenle feels like he can’t catch his breath. Jaemin barely gives him a second to adjust before bending him in half, rocking his hips agonizingly slowly, so deep that Chenle can practically feel him in his throat.
“What were you saying?” Jaemin murmurs smugly into his ear, never pausing his steady thrusts, Chenle’s face tucked firmly into his collarbone. Chenle doesn’t even remember what he had for breakfast that morning, let alone whatever he was complaining about.
Jaemin grazes his teeth over Chenle’s earlobe, kissing the thin skin underneath and leaving little bites against his jawline. Chenle shakes in his hold, mind a little blank from Jaemin assaulting all of his senses at once.
He’s never felt as small as he does right now, body completely engulfed by Jaemin, cock sliding wetly in and out, tattered ruins of his panties still clinging to his waist. The rhythm is slowly driving him crazy.
“Faster,” Chenle grits the words out through the constant pleasure, but Jaemin just laughs breathlessly and shakes his head.
“No. You’re going to take it, just like this.”
Jaemin fucks him slow, even as Chenle tosses his head and whines for more. Time stretches past where he can possibly keep up with it. Jaemin successfully drives him out of his mind with every dirty roll of his hips, with every catch of his cock on Chenle’s hole as he pulls out completely only to slide home again the next millisecond.
He treats Chenle like he’s breakable, like he’s his precious little girlfriend, oh god, Chenle’s right there, he’s right there -
“You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had, baby - shit, you’re meant for my cock, meant for me. I want to do this every day, want to keep you open for me to slide into any time I want. I’ll come over and take you in the entryway, in the kitchen, your little hole will mold itself around my dick, do you want that, hmm? My kitty will always be ready to take me whenever I want, fuck, tell me you want it, tell me you want me.”
Chenle comes before Jaemin’s even halfway done speaking.
“I want it, I want you, oppa,” Chenle gasps as his orgasm rips through him. He squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that he sees white spots dancing behind his eyelids as he rides it out, cum smearing between their bodies where his dick is pressed against Jaemin’s abdomen.
Jaemin doesn’t stop grinding his hips even when Chenle’s gasping from the oversensitivity, so turned on from his own words that he doesn’t spare Chenle a single thought. He whispers sweet nothings into Chenle’s ear until he’s moaning again and letting Jaemin just use him for his own pleasure, thrusting faster and harder until he follows Chenle over the edge.
When Jaemin finally comes, he bites down hard on Chenle’s shoulder where it’s sure to leave a nasty bruise come morning, a sharp contrast to the previously gentle pace that almost has Chenle getting hard again.
Something about the complete disregard for Chenle’s autonomy is really fucking doing it for him. He’ll unpack that box another time.
Jaemin dislodges his teeth from Chenle’s shoulder and immediately slips his tongue into his mouth. Once he’s had his fill of Chenle’s taste, kissing him breathless, he flops on top of him when the aftershocks finish wracking his frame and doesn’t even bother to pull out.
Chenle’s about to complain just for the sake of complaining, but Jaemin presses one last sweet kiss to his temple that has him melting a little bit.
He’ll let it slide, for now. He’s actually pretty fucking comfortable, despite the fabric scratching against their chests.
They waste a good ten minutes pressed together like that, sweaty and sticky and gross, Jaemin’s hand carding methodically through Chenle’s hair and petting him like he’s a cat. Chenle’s afraid that Jaemin will realize what he’s doing and stop if he moves even a centimeter. He can’t risk that, not when he’s more relaxed than he’s been in a year.
Eventually, Jaemin seems to grow annoyed with the immense wetness surrounding their bodies (they definitely ruined Chenle’s hypoallergenic eucalyptus silk sheets) and the scratchiness of Chenle's lingerie. He groans a little, shoving himself up on his elbows and pulling out of Chenle, who keeps his eyes shut even as he grimaces at the feeling of Jaemin’s cum dripping out of his ass. Maybe he can convince Jaemin to eat it out of him?
The comfortable weight disappears and Chenle sighs. He was hoping for a second round.
“I knew you wanted to be my girlfriend,” Jaemin says from somewhere to his left, tone entirely too smug for Chenle’s liking. He uses all the energy he has left to lift a hand and throw it out in Jaemin’s general direction to smack him in the stomach, still refusing to open his eyes.
Even if Jaemin’s not down to go again, Chenle doesn’t want to shatter the little domestic illusion they have going on, at least not for a little bit longer.
“Shut up. I’m not your fucking girlfriend,” Chenle groans, knowing damn well that he actually wants to be. Hell would freeze over before he ever admits that to Jaemin’s face, though - he regrets feeding his ego enough already.
The faint light visible behind his eyelids disappears and he feels that delicious weight on top of him again. He cracks one eye open and catches Jaemin’s intense gaze, face only a few centimeters from his own now and staring right into the depths of Chenle’s soul.
Freeeak, he thinks affectionately, not for the first time.
“But you are mine.” Jaemin has a way of saying things with such conviction that Chenle has no choice but to believe him. He swallows, throat a little dry, and nods. He hopes Jaemin can’t feel the rabbit pace of his heart where their chests are stuck together.
“I’m yours,” He repeats. Jaemin seems satisfied with the response and stops glaring at him so hard, backing up enough to slip out of the bed.
Chenle watches him walk to the bathroom, presumably to get a cloth to clean them both with, obviously flexing his back muscles again with every step for Chenle’s viewing pleasure. He knows exactly what cabinet the towels are in since he’s over here so fucking often, and Chenle has a growing suspicion that that’s not gonna change, even after they’ve fucked.
Yeah, he’s Jaemin’s. He’s pretty okay with that.