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The strap of Taemin's dress keeps sliding down his shoulder.
Jimin keeps sneaking glances over at him, gaze traveling along the curve of his jaw and down the flat planes of his chest. The fabric of the dress looks silky; it's a long, pastel blue slip that clings to Taemin's slender frame. It looks fantastic, and Jimin is having trouble keeping his eyes off of him.
But he still doesn't know if this is a date, and if it isn't, he doesn't want to make a move and embarrass himself.
Taemin leans into him a little, and Jimin almost flinches as cool silk touches his arm. He glances down, and Taemin's eyes meet his own. His cheeks are a little flushed from drinking, his eyes a little glossy. He’s wearing subtle, dark eye makeup that makes his eyes even more beautiful than usual. Not for the first time, Jimin thinks that he's one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen in his life.
"You seem like you're thinking pretty hard," Taemin says.
"No — I mean, well, yes." Jimin doesn't usually struggle so much in these kinds of situations, but this is Taemin. He admires him so much as both a person and an artist that it tends to leave him a little tongue tied when they're alone.
Taemin makes a little inquisitive noise, and Jimin reluctantly continues. "Tonight has been really nice. I really enjoy spending time with you. I, uh..."
He can't say it. Jimin brings a hand up to hide his face and laughs. Taemin laughs, too, but not unkindly.
"Jimin-ah," Taemin says softly and — if Jimin isn't mistaken — with a hint of fondness. He hears Taemin shift on the couch beside him, then feels a soft, cool hand take his own and gently pull it away from his face. Taemin is much closer, face only inches from his own. Jimin's breath catches in his throat.
"Can I kiss you?" Taemin asks, sweet as ever but right to the point. Jimin swallows, then nods. His eyes flutter shut as Taemin leans in and presses their lip together. It's tentative at first, like Taemin wants to make sure he's really on board, but as Jimin kisses him back he presses in more firmly.
After a few moments, Taemin breaks the kiss long enough to hike up his dress and straddle Jimin's lap. He smiles at him as he settles in, a sheepish and stupidly adorable expression. Jimin slides his hands up Taemin's newly exposed thighs, leaning in to press a few gentle kisses along the column of his neck the way he's wanted to all night.
"You look really good in this, hyung," Jimin says softly, and Taemin hums in the back of his throat.
"Thank you. I hoped you would like it." Taemin's fingers push through Jimin's hair slowly, stopping to cradle the back of his neck. There's a moment of hesitation before he asks, "Could you call me noona?"
The request only gives Jimin pause for a second before he's smiling against Taemin's skin. "Of course." A thought occurs to him, and Jimin sings, "Noona, neomu—“
"Please shut up," Taemin groans.
"— yeppeo.” Jimin grins. “You really are, though."
Instead of replying, Taemin just leans down to kiss him again, this time with a little more heat. His tongue presses gently past Jimin's lips and into his mouth. He tastes like sweet white wine and the leftover spice of their shared dinner, and he kisses like he's had a lot of practice. Taemin moves his tongue in small, soft strokes, coaxing Jimin's lips apart so he can push his tongue in deeper.
Jimin's hands slide up Taemin's smooth thighs until they reach the rucked-up hem of his dress. He pauses there, uncertain, only for Taemin to grab one of his hands and push it up further insistently. Jimin huffs a breath of laughter against his mouth and grabs his hips, emboldened. He rocks up against Taemin lightly, and Taemin grinds down against him in turn. Whatever underwear Taemin is wearing feels like it's made from the same material as his dress, and Jimin wants desperately to get a better look at it.
Taemin is the first to break the kiss, breathing a little heavily. His lips shine with spit, and the TV's blue light casts an almost ethereal halo behind him. "We should go to my bedroom. Kkoongie gets nosy sometimes when I'm fucking someone. It’s kind of awkward."
Jimin doesn't think he's ever heard Taemin say something so explicit. Despite the objectively funny context, it still goes straight to his dick. He opens his mouth to say something, but a pathetic whine comes out instead. Taemin laughs, leaning in to kiss him one more time. This time before he pulls back, he bites Jimin's lower lip playfully.
Taemin gets up, dress falling back into place. Jimin can see the half-hard outline of his cock through the fabric now, and it makes his mouth water a little. Taemin holds a hand out to him, helps Jimin to his feet, and leads the way into his bedroom.
After checking that neither of his cats are in the room, Taemin shuts the door, then turns to face Jimin again. There's no trace of nerves on his face now that he knows how much Jimin wants this. He steps closer and slides his hands up under Jimin's shirt. Jimin takes the hint and pulls it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Taemin places a tender kiss right at the hollow of Jimin's throat, then drags his teeth lightly across the spot where his shoulder meets his neck.
"I have a—"
"Photoshoot this weekend. I know," Taemin interrupts, biting lightly at Jimin's skin again and making him shiver. "I won’t leave any marks. Promise.”
Jimin bites the inside of his cheek as Taemin's hands move to undo his jeans. "Okay, noona.”
Taemin slides his hand down the front of Jimin's pants to give his cock a gentle squeeze through his briefs. Jimin whines low in his throat, embarrassed, and wraps his arms around Taemin's neck.
“Good?” Taemin whispers. Jimin nods.
“Just flustered,” he admits quietly. “It’s you.”
“You say that like you’re not one of the most successful idols in the world,” Taemin laughs. He slides his hands up Jimin’s tummy, over his chest, and brushes his thumbs over each of Jimin’s nipples.
“Still,” Jimin sighs, twisting the fingers of one hand loosely into Taemin’s hair. “You’re the idols’ idol, and all.”
“Just relax and let noona take care of you,” Taemin says, and before Jimin can think of anything to say, he’s pulling him over to the bed. Jimin follows, letting Taemin push him down onto the edge of it.
“Do you want, um…” Jimin’s words die on his tongue as Taemin sinks to his knees on the floor between his legs. “Oh.”
Taemin pulls down Jimin’s boxers and pants in one go. Jimin lifts his hips to help, hard cock bobbing free of the fabric in a way that makes him a little embarrassed. Taemin doesn’t seem to find it embarrassing, though; instead, his eyes go dark as he wets his lips.
“So pretty,” Jimin whispers, reaching out to cup Taemin’s cheek. Taemin turns into his palm, pressing a little kiss there, then leans forward to wrap his lips around the head of Jimin’s cock.
Jimin keens high in his throat, fingers tangling into Taemin’s expensive sheets. Taemin teases his tongue over the tip, then flattens it along the underside of Jimin’s cock as he takes more into his mouth. He bobs his head in a way that’s clearly well-practiced, one hand holding the base of Jimin’s cock. Jimin watches him, transfixed by the way his soft lips look stretched obscenely around it. Taemin glances up at him through his lashes, and the pretty blush on his cheeks makes Jimin picture streaking his face with cum.
“So good, noona. You’re — ah — you’re really good at this,” Jimin breathes.
Taemin pulls off of Jimin’s cock and strokes it instead, giving little kitten licks to the tip. His spit slicks the way, making the slide easier, and Jimin has to bite his lip to keep back more embarrassing noises.
“Got myself ready before you came over,” Taemin tells him plainly, like that isn’t the most brain-meltingly hot thing Jimin has ever heard in his life. “Want to ride you. Is that okay?”
God, how are you real?” Jimin sighs. “Yes, please. Whatever you want, noona.”
“You’re beautiful too, you know,” Taemin tells him, and his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles up at Jimin. He keeps stroking Jimin’s dick almost lazily with one delicate hand. “You blush such a pretty color when you’re flustered. I always wondered what you’d look like when I got you like this.”
Not if, when. Like it was a sure thing. Jimin supposes it was only a matter of time before they hooked up, but hearing Taemin admit that he’s thought about it before makes him embarrassed all over again.
Before Jimin can think of anything to say, Taemin is standing again, making a little shooing motion with his hands. Jimin takes the hint, kicking out of his pants and underwear before moving to settle in the middle of the bed. Taemin sits too, but doesn’t straddle him yet, instead facing him and palming at the front of his dress with one hand.
“Take your shirt off,” Taemin instructs, and Jimin scrambles to follow his order with an eagerness that makes Taemin giggle. “Good boy.”
“Noona,” Jimin complains, just barely resisting the urge to draw his knees up to his chest. He’s completely exposed now, but Taemin is still wearing the dress. Taemin seems to be enjoying the imbalance, if the way he sighs as he teases himself is any indication. His head lolls to one side, and he looks at Jimin through half-lidded eyes.
After a moment, Taemin sits forward for a moment to grab something from the bedside table. Jimin notices for the first time that there’s a bottle of lubricant and a couple of condoms there already. Taemin really did plan this whole thing out. Jimin wonders aloud, “How long have you been planning this?”
Taemin grins guiltily, caught out, and finally settles in Jimin’s lap. “Actively? Since I invited you over. Passively? A while.”
“We could’ve been doing this a lot longer,” Jimin laughs, reaching out to cup Taemin’s cheek. He brushes a thumb across Taemin’s lower lip, and Taemin nips gently at it.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Taemin teases. “I like the tension.”
Jimin opens his mouth to say something, but it cuts off into a quiet moan as Taemin wraps a hand around his cock again. Taemin slides the condom onto him and strokes him a few times. Jimin leans into him, pressing his lips to Taemin’s bare shoulder.
“I don’t have anything scheduled for a while, if you want to leave marks,” Taemin says, and Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice. He chooses a spot just above the dress’s neckline and bites gently, finally eliciting a little noise from Taemin this time. Jimin’s hands explore while he sucks at the spot, sliding up Taemin’s sides and across his chest until he finds the hard nub of his nipples through the silk dress.
Taemin sighs above him as Jimin pinches gently at his nipples, head dropping back. Jimin lifts his head from the mark he was making and kisses along the long line of Taemin’s throat instead, dropping gentle bites that won’t leave a mark along the way.
“You gonna take your dress off?” Jimin murmurs against his skin. “It’s nice. Don’t wanna ruin it.”
“I do,” Taemin says, tangling a hand in Jimin’s hair. “It’s fine.“
With permission granted, Jimin ducks his head down and wraps his lips around one of Taemin’s nipples through the silk. Taemin gasps sharply, surprised, and the fingers in Jimin’s hair tighten. Jimin drops one hand to Taemin’s lap, pushing past the folds of his skirt to find his cock.
“God,” Taemin says, voice high and a little breathy, as Jimin wraps his fingers around his dick through his silk panties. “You like making your noona feel good?”
“Yes,” Jimin replies, mapping the outline of Taemin’s cock with his fingers using gentle, teasing touches. Taemin’s hips jerk forward, and a quiet moan slips from his mouth. Jimin smiles. “You ready for me?”
“Mm,” Taemin hums, giving Jimin a gentle push back so he has more space to maneuver. Jimin rests his hands on Taemin’s hips, finally getting a good look at the underwear. They’re white silk and barely anything, just a triangle of fabric in the front and a few pieces of string. Taemin’s small cock strains against the silk in a way Jimin can only think to describe as cute. He watches as Taemin scoots forward on his knees, skirt held up with one hand, and reaches behind him to position Jimin’s cock at his entrance.
“Easy,” Jimin says, squeezing Taemin’s hips. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Taemin meets his eyes, smiles, and starts to sink down slowly without another word.
"God,” Jimin hisses through his teeth, head thudding against the wall. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Taemin leans forward, bracing himself against the wall, forehead inches from Jimin’s. “You too.”
He fucks himself open on Jimin’s cock, easing down further each time until he’s finally fully seated in Jimin’s lap. He stops there, eyes closed, looking blissed out and so stunning that Jimin forgets how to breathe for a moment.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jimin blurts, and Taemin’s eyes open again just long enough to flash Jimin a shy smile.
“Thank you. My pretty boy,” Taemin murmurs, and he brushes his lips against Jimin’s just barely. “You’re going to fuck me so good, aren’t you?”
“Whatever you want, noona,” Jimin promises.
“Good boy,” Taemin giggles, circling his hips slowly in Jimin’s lap. Jimin’s fingers tighten on his hips, exhaling sharply.
They settle into an easy, deep pattern, Jimin pushing up to meet Taemin every time he slides back down. Most of the idols Jimin has slept with are fairly quiet in bed; it took him a while to realize that it’s because they’re usually used to sharing a bedroom. Taemin is no different, his whimpers coming out more like choked exhales than moans. But as they work their way up to a harder, faster pace, Taemin’s careful control starts to break. Jimin can’t look away from his face — from the smudged eyeliner that rims his tightly shut eyes, from the pink flush that tints his cheeks, from the way his spit-slick lips part on each moan.
Taemin opens his eyes and meets Jimin’s. He smiles when he catches him staring, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Do you like having me on top? In control?”
Jimin flushes, but nods, loathe to break Taemin’s gaze first. “I like being used,” he admits, and though the blunt phrasing is embarrassing, the way it makes a dark look flash across Taemin’s face is worth it.
“In that case,” Taemin says, and he grabs Jimin’s wrists, pinning them to the wall behind him. Jimin groans, head falling back between his hands. “Stay still, won’t you?”
“Yes, noona,” Jimin says obediently, and watches in wonder as Taemin starts to ride him harder. It’s more difficult than he’d expected to stay still while Taemin does all the work; he wants nothing more than to thrust up into him.
“Ask my permission,” Taemin says breathlessly, “Before you come. Okay, baby?”
Jimin nods eagerly, thighs twitching with the effort it takes not to drive his hips up into that tight heat. “Whatever you want.”
“Good boy,” Taemin praises. “So obedient. You’re always so eager to impress me, aren’t you?”
Jimin flushes. He hadn’t realized how obvious he was. It’s true, though; there’s nothing more addictive than hearing praise from the mouth of his favorite idol. “… Yes, noona.”
Taemin clenches around him and Jimin sees stars, hands clenching into fists. Taemin laughs at him, teasing. “You feel so good. I could keep you inside me for hours. Would you like that, Jimin-ah? Maybe I would make you come over and over again inside of me until you were sore. Or maybe I wouldn’t let you come at all.”
Jimin has never in his wildest fantasies imagined that Taemin might have such a filthy mouth on him. He keens, needy and high, hips finally bucking up despite his best efforts to stay still. Taemin slows his movements to a stop.
“Please, please, don’t stop, I’m sorry,” Jimin begs. He hadn’t realized how close he was until Taemin stopped riding him. Taemin clenches his asshole in a slow pulse, but doesn’t move otherwise.
Jimin whimpers helplessly. Taemin giggles, a sweetly innocent sound ruined by the context of it. Sweat drips down his throat and catches at the neckline of his dress, soaking into the ruined fabric. Jimin wants to lick it away. Right now, he thinks he would gladly swallow every drop of bodily fluid Taemin excretes. He feels delirious, crazy. He would do anything Taemin asked of him if he’d only let him come.
Taemin lets go of Jimin’s wrists and leans back, grabbing Jimin’s thighs instead. “Make me come, first. Then maybe I’ll let you finish.”
Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice. He palms Taemin’s cock through the silk of his panties, then pushes them down under his balls. He’s smooth everywhere, as Jimin suspected; Taemin must wax even more regularly than he does.
Taemin groans as Jimin wraps a hand around him. His cock is flushed pink, small and delicate, one of the only areas where their bodies differ; Jimin’s dick must be nearly twice as big. Jimin gives him one dry stroke, then leans forward with some difficulty so he can spit on the head and ease his way. Taemin’s hips jerk in surprise when he feels it, muscles tensing, and Jimin groans deep in his chest at the way Taemin’s hole clenches around him.
“Fuck,” Taemin hisses. “Won’t take much, c’mon, Jimin—“
Despite his assurances that he wouldn’t let Jimin come until he did, Taemin starts to circle his hips in Jimin’s lap. Jimin jacks him off and watches the way Taemin’s face twists up in pleasure, the way his lips part and moans pour from them with abandon. His own building orgasm becomes an afterthought to the chase for Taemin’s — and Taemin’s comes swiftly. He spills white across Jimin’s knuckles with a distinctly feminine whine, thighs and asshole clenching tight around him.
“Fuck me,” Taemin chokes out, and finally given permission, Jimin grabs Taemin’s hips hard and starts to drill up into him. Taemin cries out, oversensitive as he reaches the tail end of his orgasm, and lurches forward to cling to Jimin’s shoulders while he fucks him. The pace he sets is hard and messy, more instinct than rhythm, but it's exactly what he needs to finally bring himself over the edge.
Seconds or minutes later, Jimin’s orgasm hits hard enough that his ears ring. He feels Taemin’s nails dig into his back, feels the tight grip he has on Taemin’s hips in turn; he feels every tiny motion of Taemin’s thighs and inner walls.
Jimin's not sure how long it takes for coherent thought to return to his brain, but as it does, they ease to a stop together. He can feel the way Taemin trembles with the effort of holding himself upright in his lap.
“Thank you, noona,” Jimin whispers, pressing a sloppy kiss to Taemin’s sweaty hairline.
“My good boy,” Taemin says, raspy and sweet. Still shaking, he carefully lifts himself up and off of Jimin’s dick, flopping ungracefully beside him on the bed. Jimin removes and ties off the condom, tossing it onto the floor, before laying down beside him. He rests his head on Taemin’s chest and drapes an arm over his waist. Taemin lifts a hand to run his fingers lazily through Jimin’s hair.
“Good?” Taemin checks after a few quiet minutes, and Jimin nods, smiling sleepily against Taemin’s chest.
“Very good. You?”
Taemin hums an agreement. “Shower with me?” Jimin can hear the smile in his voice when he adds, teasing, “You can stay the night, but only if you help me change my sheets.”
“Ah, you don’t want to roll around in sweat and cum all night?” Jimin asks, sitting up on one elbow so he can smile back at Taemin. Affection warms his chest, slow and sweet, as he looks down at Taemin’s silly grin.
“Maybe some other night,” Taemin says, swatting at Jimin’s chest playfully. He slowly drags himself up into a sitting position and stretches. Jimin watches him appreciatively.
“Can I fuck you again in the morning?” Jimin asks. He knows he sounds overeager, but he’s too enamored to care. Taemin laughs at him, and Jimin beams like a lovesick idiot.
He supposes that’s exactly what he is.