Work Text:
The air in Seungmin's cramped apartment was thick with the scent of sweat and cheap vanilla body spray, the kind Jeongin always slathered on before they met up. The single bulb overhead flickered, casting jagged shadows across the peeling wallpaper. Seungmin's hands trembled as he fiddled with the old camcorder, its lens scratched from years of reckless use. The device was a relic, but it was his, and it captured every filthy detail of these secret nights with Jeongin. He propped it on a stack of manga volumes, angling it toward the sagging mattress in the corner, where Jeongin was already sprawled, shirt half-unbuttoned, one knee bent in a lazy, teasing pose.
Jeongin's hair, dyed a brassy blond, fanned out on the pillow, strands sticking to his flushed cheeks. His oversized flannel hung open, revealing his small, firm chest. The binder straps had left faint red marks. Below, his ripped denim shorts were unbuttoned, the zipper halfway down, exposing a greyish boxers. The fabric was thin, almost sheer, and Seungmin's eyes locked onto the faint outline of Jeongin's pussy beneath, already damp, the cotton darkening at the center. Jeongin's thighs, pale and slightly bruised from their last encounter, twitched as he shifted, his fingers tracing the hem of his shorts, tugging them lower to toy with Seungmin's patience.
"Hyung, you're taking forever," Jeongin muttered, voice low and gravelly, a smirk curling his lips. His tongue flicked out, catching a bead of sweat on his upper lip, and Seungmin's breath hitched. The camcorder's red light blinked on, and Seungmin's pulse spiked. This was it—the moment he'd replay alone later, jerking off to the grainy footage, relishing every shaky frame.
"Shut up," Seungmin shot back, his voice rough with need. He knelt on the mattress, the springs creaking under his weight. His own outfit was haphazard: a faded band tee, sleeves rolled up to show lean, veined forearms, and sweatpants that did little to hide his hardening cock. He reached for Jeongin's shorts, yanking them down in one swift motion, leaving the boxers in place. The fabric was soaked now, clinging to Jeongin's labia, the lips puffy and parted slightly under the wet cotton. Seungmin's fingers hovered, then pressed against the damp spot, feeling the heat radiate through. Jeongin gasped, hips bucking, and the camcorder caught it all—the twitch of his thighs, the way his fingers clawed at the sheets.
Seungmin peeled the boxers down slowly, savoring the way they stuck to Jeongin's skin before sliding off. The air hit Jeongin's exposed pussy, and Seungmin stared, transfixed. The outer lips were flushed a deep pink, glistening with slick that dripped down to the crease of his ass. The inner labia were delicate, asymmetrical, curling like petals around the swollen bud of his clitoris. Seungmin's thumb brushed over it, slow and deliberate, and Jeongin's moan was raw, almost pained. Clear, sticky fluid coated Seungmin's fingers, stringing between them as he pulled back to admire the mess. The camcorder hummed softly, immortalizing the way Jeongin's cunt pulsed, needy and open.
"Spread your legs," Seungmin ordered, voice barely above a whisper. Jeongin obeyed, thighs falling apart, one foot dangling off the mattress. His pussy gaped slightly, the entrance slick and inviting, a faint sheen of sweat on his inner thighs. Seungmin's cock throbbed, straining against his sweatpants, but he held back, wanting to drag this out for the lens. He leaned in, close enough to smell the sharp, musky tang of Jeongin's arousal, mixed with the lingering vanilla. His tongue darted out, tracing the edge of Jeongin's labia, tasting the salty-sweet slick. Jeongin's hips jerked, a string of curses spilling from his lips—"Fuck, don't stop."
Seungmin didn't. His lips closed around Jeongin's clit, sucking gently, then harder, feeling it swell against his tongue. The camcorder caught the obscene wet sounds, the way Seungmin's mouth glistened with Jeongin's juices. His fingers slipped inside, two at first, then three, stretching the tight, velvety walls. Jeongin's cervix was just out of reach, but Seungmin curled his fingers, pressing against the spongy spot that made Jeongin's back arch, a choked scream tearing from his throat. The sheets were soaked now, a dark patch spreading beneath Jeongin's hips, the air heavy with the scent of sex.
Seungmin pulled back, panting, his face slick with Jeongin's cum. He shoved his sweatpants down, freeing his cock—thick, veined, the tip leaking precum. He didn't bother with a condom; they never did. The camcorder's lens glinted as he positioned himself, rubbing the head of his cock against Jeongin's dripping entrance. The slick coated him, mixing with his own precum, and he pushed in, slow at first, then harder, bottoming out with a grunt. Jeongin's pussy clenched around him, hot and tight, and Seungmin's vision blurred. He thrust sloppily, the mattress creaking, his hands gripping Jeongin's hips hard enough to bruise.
"Fuck, you're so wet," Seungmin growled, his voice shaking. Jeongin's moans were incoherent now, his flannel bunched up under his armpits, his chest was exposed. His nipples were hard, dark against his pale skin, and Seungmin pinched one, twisting just enough to make Jeongin cry out. The camcorder caught every detail—the way Jeongin's thighs trembled, the sticky mess of fluids pooling on the sheets, the sheen of sweat on Seungmin's back as he fucked harder, faster.
Jeongin came first, his pussy spasming around Seungmin's cock, a gush of clear fluid soaking Seungmin's thighs. The camcorder recorded the obscene squelch, the way Jeongin's toes curled, his fingers digging into Seungmin's arms. Seungmin wasn't far behind. He pulled out at the last second, stroking himself frantically, cum spurting across Jeongin's pussy and stomach. Thick, white ropes landed on the flushed labia, dripping down to mix with Jeongin's slick. The sight was messy, amateur, perfect—exactly what Seungmin craved.
They collapsed, panting, the camcorder still running. Seungmin's chest heaved, his cock softening against his thigh, still slick with their combined fluids. Jeongin's legs were splayed, his pussy red and swollen, cum and slick oozing onto the sheets. The room smelled of sex and sweat, the air heavy with their ragged breaths. Seungmin reached over, stopping the recording with a shaky hand. He'd watch this later, alone, stroking himself to the grainy footage, reliving every filthy second.
Jeongin rolled onto his side, flannel still tangled around his shoulders, and searched for his vape. The smoke curled upward, blending with the hazy air. "You're such a fucking perv," he said, voice hoarse, but there was a grin in it. Seungmin didn't reply, just stared at the camcorder, already itching to play the tape back.