Rap Battle - a Jaehyo/Zico fanfic.
Pairing: Zico/Jaehyo
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 3000+
Notes: Written for a friend back in June. Cross posted on to AFF and AO3.
Summary: Jiho is bored in the studio, so he decides to rope Jaehyo in to a little innocent rap battle - only thing is, it doesn't stay innocent for very long.
The studio was a lot more quiet that Jiho was used to. He had a set of headphones slung around his neck, feeling the beat of the track against his throat more than he was actually hearing it. He was bored at this point, figuring he’d worked himself hard but with very little result so he’d let Jaehyo in to dispel the serious atmosphere, at least in part. The trouble was, Jaehyo had been paying more attention to his phone than he had to Jiho.
Jiho kicked the underside of the chair Jaehyo was sitting on to get his attention, but Jaehyo only grunted in response.
“Let’s play a game, hyung.”
“What kind of game?” Jaehyo said to his phone.
“A rapping game. C’mon, I’m bored.”
Jiho half expected him to refuse, just for the sake of it, but Jaehyo hit a button on his phone and sat it down beside the keyboard on the desk.
“I’ll start. It’s like drabbles, yeah? I do a line, you follow up.”
Jaehyo agreed, and it was tame at first, Jaehyo’s stunted laugh and Jiho’s snorts of derision breaking up the formers awkward attempt at rap, but soon even this became too dull for Jiho, he grew bored with the fake slander and conceit, so he decides to change it up.
“Uh, all up in the club like Jimmy D, showing off my assets in these tight cut-off jeans, you’re acting like you know me but you don’t got shit to show me, yeah.”
Jaehyo’s mouth pops open before he can get a word formed, and he blinks at Jiho for almost a full ten seconds before grinning lopsidedly. I’m not so easy, he thinks, not so easy as to let a little R-rated talk make me lose. No stakes had been placed on this game officially, but they were there all the same.
Jaehyo sniggers and stamps his foot once, loudly and obnoxiously. “A-yo Jiho, your assets in those jeans are weak, I’ve got girls on me when I open my mouth to speak.”
“Nah, you might think you’re hot shit, but my name rolls off your hot lips and you know I got it, so come over here and give it to me.”
Jaehyo cleared his throat awkwardly before following Jiho’s lead. “Yeah. I know I might have hot lips, but - you think you've got a hot-“ Jaehyo cut himself off. "Ah, Jiho, this is embarrassing!"
Jiho laughed. “Forfeit?”
“No!” Jaehyo practically yells, because if there’s one thing he hates, it’s losing. Especially to Woo Jiho. “Yeah. I know I might have hot lips, but you think you’ve got - you’vegotahotdick”. He finishes in one breath, quickly, unsure, and it’s all for the game, Jiho knows that, but the knowledge doesn’t do shit for the warmth spreading at the base of his spine. Jaehyo had started to laugh in to his hands, so Jiho jumps straight in whilst he’s off guard.
“You talk about my hot dick but you don’t do anything about it. Man, your game must be slick, how do girls do without it?”
“My game’s not just slick, but sick, as in the girls get sick of - sick of-“
“Sick of your dick?” Jiho laughs.
“Shut up. you ruined my rap.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jiho makes an apologetic display of stretching out his hands, ducking his head in a bow. “Continue.”
“No, you ruined it. You go.”
“Alright. Your game’s so sick, the girls are all left gagging ‘cause you come so quick-“
“I do not!” Jaehyo cried, indignant.
“Now who’s ruining it? You keep running your mouth, like you’re nervous, but all you’re good for is lip service. Ahn Jaehyo, you’re worthless, a pretty boy on the surface but talk is cheap.”
Something in Jaehyo snaps then, and Jiho doesn’t know if it’s from the insults or from a desire to beat Jiho at his own game.
“Talk is cheap, but you’re cheaper. I’ve seen guys like you sell themselves for a bottle of liquor.”
To his own surprise, Jiho is taken aback. Not by the rap itself, that was as poor as ever, but by the fact that something that sexually blunt had come out of Jaeyho’s mouth. It was still cringe-worthy, maybe the line would have been smoothly intimidating coming out of someone else, but from Jaehyo it was delivered with the same underlying linger of desperation for approval, as was everything else he did.
Jiho liked it.
Jaehyo was gone now, like a shook up bottle than had been uncorked. Jiho could hear Jaehyo’s words getting filthier, his delivery becoming more depraved. He was enjoying it, Jiho could tell, he hadn’t taken a breath to let Jiho have his turn, but Jiho didn’t care. In fact, it was quite the opposite. With every poorly timed rap and rhyme shoved in like an ill-fitting jigsaw piece, Jiho could feel himself getting harder and harder. Soon Jaehyo dropped the rap and gave his words a melody, the vibrato hitting Jiho in between the ribs.
God, this was too much.
Jiho didn’t know when he started palming his own dick; he wasn’t paying attention, and neither was Jaehyo. Inspiration had struck in the worst way and Jaehyo was like a child showcasing all the new swears he had learnt - he just would not quit. Somewhere in between the line about hard bodies, and the line about spit slick mouths Jiho swallowed thickly, cutting off a groan that bubbled in his chest.
Jaehyo was still unaware, stopping every few seconds to laugh at himself like he’s proud, like he’s accomplished, but he’s so clueless to the fact that all he’s done is made Jiho so hard it’s painful.
Jiho’s decided he’s had it. He’s done with playing this game, it’s not enough, it’s not fun any more, and so he leans forward and grabs the front of Jaehyo’s shirt with both hands. He pulls him up off the chair and Jaehyo splutters and blinks, not altogether caught up with Jiho’s train of thought. He barely has time to catch himself as Jiho pushes, pushes hard enough to back Jaehyo up in to the black sofa, before throwing him down on it with intent. Jaehyo’s head hits the arm, hard, and bounces back and his limbs give out as his legs jut awkwardly from where he landed, but Jiho doesn’t give him time to think, time to correct himself before he’s plastered on top of him.
Jaehyo puts his hands on Jiho’s shoulders and for a second he’s got it in his head that he’s going to push him off, but then Jiho ruts against him with a slow, painfully deliberate roll of his hips and Jaehyo’s fingers stutter and clutch in to the fabric of Jiho’s hoodie.
“Jiho-“
“I had no idea you had that sort of talk in you. Did you learn all that from videos, huh?”
“Jiho, the others members.”
And shit, Jiho hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t like this was any fortunate circumstance where the rest of the members were out with the manager. Everyone knew exactly where both Jiho and Jaehyo were, and there was no reason why any of them couldn’t come over to the studio any time they pleased. Jiho had booked it out, sure, but that didn’t mean that the others wouldn’t intrude.
“Fuck it.” Jiho says, defiantly. “I’m too far gone. Had no idea.” His hands move from Jaehyo’s shoulders and up to his head, fingers twining in his hair and pulling. There’s less support this way, but it means that Jiho just has to grind himself down all the more to elicit a reaction from the elder.
Jaehyo gasps, wide eyed and open mouthed. He still hasn’t made a decision, Jiho hadn’t really given him one, but when he moves down Jaehyo’s body, hiking his shirt up as he goes Jaehyo isn’t discouraging him in the slightest.
He tries to watch Jiho, tries and fails because Jiho’s looking up at him with eyes slit like a feline’s, his mouth open in a half-cocked grin that shows all his teeth. Jaehyo wants to ask if he’s wanted this before, if this game was just an excuse or if this was just Jiho going with the flow and expecting Jaehyo to follow, but he doesn’t ask any of this because his voice fails him. He can feel the cold press of Jiho’s watch against his hip and Jaehyo’s voice breaks as Jiho unbuttons his jeans and pulls them, and his underwear down. Jiho’s fingers drag deliberately along his thighs and Jaehyo knows they’re shaking. Jiho moves back up along Jaehyo’s body to bite under Jaehyo’s jaw.
“I’ve seen what’s on your computer, hyung.” Jiho laughs in to his neck, and Jaehyo feels his stomach drop. “Your porn with girls in it isn’t half as interesting as the porn with guys.” He moves his mouth along the line of Jaehyo’s neck before placing it beside the shell of his ear. “Guys that look like me.”
Jaehyo shudders besides himself. He hadn’t noticed, it wasn’t intentional, he’ll swear on it, but he can’t say that Jiho’s wrong.
“I knew someone was in my room.” Is all Jaehyo can say, and Jiho shrugs.
“Kyung found them. I just watched.”
And with that he’s back down, wrapping his fingers around Jaehyo’s quickly hardening dick and tugging in a way that forces Jaehyo to look at him. He makes a show of it all, swiping his tongue from right to left along his bottom lip - he knows, he knows it’s his charm, and he uses it to his advantage - and Jaehyo can do nothing but watch as he rubs his lips together with a wet pop.
Jaehyo tries to cling on to the boldness he’d felt when he was rapping and then singing, but it was dropping away fast as Jiho lowered his mouth to the base of Jaehyo’s cock, taking it lightly between his lips but never breaking eye contact. Jaehyo wanted to be loud, wanted to tell Jiho what to do and how to do it, but he knew as well as anyone that Jiho would do things as he pleased.
He stares Jaehyo down as he takes his tongue and drags it up along the underside of his cock, and Jaehyo get a sickening blast of déjà vu as he pictures Jiho with red lipstick clutching a red diamanté skull in his hand.
“Jiho.” Jaeyho forces out, and Jiho grins at him before sealing his mouth around the head of Jaehyo’s cock. He doesn’t do anything past that, simply watches with his well-accustomed sense of delight as he feels more than sees Jaehyo unravel underneath him.
“Ah, why are you doing this to your hyung?” Jaehyo snaps as his hands reach down to flip off Jiho’s snapback. He tosses it aside before turning back to tug sharply at Jiho’s hair, irritated. Jiho winces slightly, and Jaehyo thinks he deserves it for being such a tease.
“Ask for it, then.”
Jaehyo’s mouth drops open at the brazenness of the demand. “What?”
“You want me to suck you off, yeah? Ask me for it.”
“I won’t.”
“I think you will.” Jiho grins, dipping his head to suck a dark bruise on to the inside of Jaehyo’s thigh. Jaehyo feels his shoulders grow tense at the contact, and he fears that if he gets any more turned on he’d get dizzy. He had his pride, but for once he thinks that it might not be all that important in the right circumstances.
“Jiho-“ he starts. “Ah, don’t look at me. Jiho. Will you - get me off?”
“Is that it? That’s rude, even from a hyung.”
“You want me to beg?!”
“Either you do, and I suck your dick right here, or you get out of the studio and tell the others why you’ll be locked in your room for the next hour.”
Jaehyo pales, firstly from the sheer audacity of Jiho’s words, and secondly from the knowledge that, in this situation, Jaehyo would do exactly what Jiho told him to. He couldn’t stop this, even if he wanted. And he definitely did not want to stop this.
“Jiho. Please. Get me off.”
Jiho grins at him, sly and triumphant, giving no indication that he want this just as badly. “Better.” He concedes, and without warning sinks his head along the length of Jaehyo’s dick.
Jaehyo feels the air punched out of him as Jiho takes him in his mouth, the wet heat pressing and his thick lips working to draw every sound and sensation they can out of the elder. Jaehyo’s moans are quiet at first, shaky and bordering on breathless, but they grow louder as Jaehyo’s legs find purchase around Jiho’s back, and louder still as Jiho’s left hand creeps up to scratch across Jaehyo’s chest and stomach. Jaehyo can feel the head of his own dick knock against the back of Jiho’s throat, and he feels the urge to apologise but there’s no need. Jiho’s eyes have slid close and he’s moaning himself, much deeper, with much more power than Jaehyo. It occurs to Jaeyho that Jiho likes doing this, and then occurs to him that Jiho is getting off from getting him off.
The thought alone is enough to have Jaehyo bite the inside of his cheek until he bleeds, and his neck strains as he arches his back, his entire body under Jiho’s mouth. The pre-existing acoustics of the studio do wonders for the sound, for the creaks of leather and the slick, almost embarrassing sound of Jiho's mouth, for Jaehyo’s keening and the deep, almost sandpaper rough groans that come from Jiho every time Jaehyo pulls to hard or thrusts too deep.
He’s almost undone, he knows his own body well, but Jiho doesn’t and Jaehyo tries to get his attention to pull him off, but Jiho does the opposite and splays his hands along the bones of Jaehyo’s hips as he deepthroats him, meeting Jaehyo’s eyes once more the second that he comes. Jaehyo’s hands fly from Jiho’s hair to his own mouth as he arches sharply off the sofa before slamming back down, choking down his orgasm-driven cry with such force that his eyes water. He’s shaking hard now, but Jiho’s no-where near done.
He reaches around behind himself to unhook Jaehyo’s legs, grabbing his hips to force him to flip on to his stomach. His cheeks bulge as he stands to unzip his own jeans, roughly shoving them down until the hung off one leg. He climbs back on the couch, legs either side of Jaehyo’s hips and he cups a hand under his chin as he spits Jaehyo’s come in to it. He strokes himself with it, and Jaehyo’s breath comes hot and laboured as he cranes his neck to watch.
Jiho’s head lolls on his shoulder, his mouth open and his eyes shut as he touches himself properly for the first time that night. Jaehyo knows he’s not putting on a show now, though he could if he wanted to, but Jaehyo watches him with an intensity anyway. Here at least, he can admit that Jiho is a lot hotter than Jaehyo ever lets on. Not pretty, not like himself, but there’s something about him, something that burns from this inside when he performs and radiates with an afterglow when he doesn’t. He has this pull about him and it’s that that has Jaehyo reaching over to help.
Jiho lets him at first, pops one eye open and looks down at Jaehyo from his kneeling position almost lazily, but then he’s got Jaehyo’s wrist in his free hand and and is pinning it up and over his head on the sofa. Jaehyo can’t help but feel uncomfortable, like he’s on display with only his shirt covering his shoulders, but he ceases caring when he feels Jiho palm at his ass with the hand he was using on himself.
There’s not enough time, not enough resources to get too involved and Jaehyo doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved, but it doesn’t matter to him which side the coin falls on when he feels the slide of Jiho’s dick in between the dip of his ass. It’s got him biting grooves in to his forearm, writhing against the flat press of Jiho’s palm as he braces himself with one hand on Jaehyo’s back and keeps his wrists pinned with the other. He leans forward until they’re flush against one another, and neither of them can breathe. Jaehyo feels himself grow hard again against the leather lining of the sofa, and the rub coupled with Jiho grinding in to him is damn near agonising.
Jiho comes with a sharp shout directly beside Jaehyo’s ear, fingers digging in to his wrists hard enough that Jaehyo’s sure is going to bruise. He pulls off and Jaehyo feels so explicitly, mind numbingly exposed and the embarrassment creeps back in ebbs and flows. He rolls over on to his back, lifting his hips to pull his jeans up before dropping back on to the couch.
Jiho does his own fly up before looking down at Jaehyo, moving to lean over him. Jaehyo half expects Jiho to kiss him, and half wants him to, but he doesn’t, instead opting to purse his lips in Jaehyo’s face in a way that would be mocking if he wasn’t grinning so damn much. Jaehyo puts his hand over his face, shielding his eyes before laughing loudly and deeply. He wasn’t sure what was funny, exactly.
“I think you won this round, hyung.” Jiho chimes, tone light and good natured.
Jaehyo snorts. “I think I did too. Clearly I’m Block B’s secret rap machine.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t run that one by the manager, he might ask you to prove it.” Jiho’s hands finish up with dressing. “I’m hungry. “
It’s an announcement more than anything else, and he walks over to the studio door and pulls it open and leaves Jaehyo alone in the room. It’s only then, a few beats after Jiho had finished talking that Jiho’s words actually catch up with him.
“Wait, Jiho! What do you mean this round?!”
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 3000+
Notes: Written for a friend back in June. Cross posted on to AFF and AO3.
Summary: Jiho is bored in the studio, so he decides to rope Jaehyo in to a little innocent rap battle - only thing is, it doesn't stay innocent for very long.
The studio was a lot more quiet that Jiho was used to. He had a set of headphones slung around his neck, feeling the beat of the track against his throat more than he was actually hearing it. He was bored at this point, figuring he’d worked himself hard but with very little result so he’d let Jaehyo in to dispel the serious atmosphere, at least in part. The trouble was, Jaehyo had been paying more attention to his phone than he had to Jiho.
Jiho kicked the underside of the chair Jaehyo was sitting on to get his attention, but Jaehyo only grunted in response.
“Let’s play a game, hyung.”
“What kind of game?” Jaehyo said to his phone.
“A rapping game. C’mon, I’m bored.”
Jiho half expected him to refuse, just for the sake of it, but Jaehyo hit a button on his phone and sat it down beside the keyboard on the desk.
“I’ll start. It’s like drabbles, yeah? I do a line, you follow up.”
Jaehyo agreed, and it was tame at first, Jaehyo’s stunted laugh and Jiho’s snorts of derision breaking up the formers awkward attempt at rap, but soon even this became too dull for Jiho, he grew bored with the fake slander and conceit, so he decides to change it up.
“Uh, all up in the club like Jimmy D, showing off my assets in these tight cut-off jeans, you’re acting like you know me but you don’t got shit to show me, yeah.”
Jaehyo’s mouth pops open before he can get a word formed, and he blinks at Jiho for almost a full ten seconds before grinning lopsidedly. I’m not so easy, he thinks, not so easy as to let a little R-rated talk make me lose. No stakes had been placed on this game officially, but they were there all the same.
Jaehyo sniggers and stamps his foot once, loudly and obnoxiously. “A-yo Jiho, your assets in those jeans are weak, I’ve got girls on me when I open my mouth to speak.”
“Nah, you might think you’re hot shit, but my name rolls off your hot lips and you know I got it, so come over here and give it to me.”
Jaehyo cleared his throat awkwardly before following Jiho’s lead. “Yeah. I know I might have hot lips, but - you think you've got a hot-“ Jaehyo cut himself off. "Ah, Jiho, this is embarrassing!"
Jiho laughed. “Forfeit?”
“No!” Jaehyo practically yells, because if there’s one thing he hates, it’s losing. Especially to Woo Jiho. “Yeah. I know I might have hot lips, but you think you’ve got - you’vegotahotdick”. He finishes in one breath, quickly, unsure, and it’s all for the game, Jiho knows that, but the knowledge doesn’t do shit for the warmth spreading at the base of his spine. Jaehyo had started to laugh in to his hands, so Jiho jumps straight in whilst he’s off guard.
“You talk about my hot dick but you don’t do anything about it. Man, your game must be slick, how do girls do without it?”
“My game’s not just slick, but sick, as in the girls get sick of - sick of-“
“Sick of your dick?” Jiho laughs.
“Shut up. you ruined my rap.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jiho makes an apologetic display of stretching out his hands, ducking his head in a bow. “Continue.”
“No, you ruined it. You go.”
“Alright. Your game’s so sick, the girls are all left gagging ‘cause you come so quick-“
“I do not!” Jaehyo cried, indignant.
“Now who’s ruining it? You keep running your mouth, like you’re nervous, but all you’re good for is lip service. Ahn Jaehyo, you’re worthless, a pretty boy on the surface but talk is cheap.”
Something in Jaehyo snaps then, and Jiho doesn’t know if it’s from the insults or from a desire to beat Jiho at his own game.
“Talk is cheap, but you’re cheaper. I’ve seen guys like you sell themselves for a bottle of liquor.”
To his own surprise, Jiho is taken aback. Not by the rap itself, that was as poor as ever, but by the fact that something that sexually blunt had come out of Jaeyho’s mouth. It was still cringe-worthy, maybe the line would have been smoothly intimidating coming out of someone else, but from Jaehyo it was delivered with the same underlying linger of desperation for approval, as was everything else he did.
Jiho liked it.
Jaehyo was gone now, like a shook up bottle than had been uncorked. Jiho could hear Jaehyo’s words getting filthier, his delivery becoming more depraved. He was enjoying it, Jiho could tell, he hadn’t taken a breath to let Jiho have his turn, but Jiho didn’t care. In fact, it was quite the opposite. With every poorly timed rap and rhyme shoved in like an ill-fitting jigsaw piece, Jiho could feel himself getting harder and harder. Soon Jaehyo dropped the rap and gave his words a melody, the vibrato hitting Jiho in between the ribs.
God, this was too much.
Jiho didn’t know when he started palming his own dick; he wasn’t paying attention, and neither was Jaehyo. Inspiration had struck in the worst way and Jaehyo was like a child showcasing all the new swears he had learnt - he just would not quit. Somewhere in between the line about hard bodies, and the line about spit slick mouths Jiho swallowed thickly, cutting off a groan that bubbled in his chest.
Jaehyo was still unaware, stopping every few seconds to laugh at himself like he’s proud, like he’s accomplished, but he’s so clueless to the fact that all he’s done is made Jiho so hard it’s painful.
Jiho’s decided he’s had it. He’s done with playing this game, it’s not enough, it’s not fun any more, and so he leans forward and grabs the front of Jaehyo’s shirt with both hands. He pulls him up off the chair and Jaehyo splutters and blinks, not altogether caught up with Jiho’s train of thought. He barely has time to catch himself as Jiho pushes, pushes hard enough to back Jaehyo up in to the black sofa, before throwing him down on it with intent. Jaehyo’s head hits the arm, hard, and bounces back and his limbs give out as his legs jut awkwardly from where he landed, but Jiho doesn’t give him time to think, time to correct himself before he’s plastered on top of him.
Jaehyo puts his hands on Jiho’s shoulders and for a second he’s got it in his head that he’s going to push him off, but then Jiho ruts against him with a slow, painfully deliberate roll of his hips and Jaehyo’s fingers stutter and clutch in to the fabric of Jiho’s hoodie.
“Jiho-“
“I had no idea you had that sort of talk in you. Did you learn all that from videos, huh?”
“Jiho, the others members.”
And shit, Jiho hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t like this was any fortunate circumstance where the rest of the members were out with the manager. Everyone knew exactly where both Jiho and Jaehyo were, and there was no reason why any of them couldn’t come over to the studio any time they pleased. Jiho had booked it out, sure, but that didn’t mean that the others wouldn’t intrude.
“Fuck it.” Jiho says, defiantly. “I’m too far gone. Had no idea.” His hands move from Jaehyo’s shoulders and up to his head, fingers twining in his hair and pulling. There’s less support this way, but it means that Jiho just has to grind himself down all the more to elicit a reaction from the elder.
Jaehyo gasps, wide eyed and open mouthed. He still hasn’t made a decision, Jiho hadn’t really given him one, but when he moves down Jaehyo’s body, hiking his shirt up as he goes Jaehyo isn’t discouraging him in the slightest.
He tries to watch Jiho, tries and fails because Jiho’s looking up at him with eyes slit like a feline’s, his mouth open in a half-cocked grin that shows all his teeth. Jaehyo wants to ask if he’s wanted this before, if this game was just an excuse or if this was just Jiho going with the flow and expecting Jaehyo to follow, but he doesn’t ask any of this because his voice fails him. He can feel the cold press of Jiho’s watch against his hip and Jaehyo’s voice breaks as Jiho unbuttons his jeans and pulls them, and his underwear down. Jiho’s fingers drag deliberately along his thighs and Jaehyo knows they’re shaking. Jiho moves back up along Jaehyo’s body to bite under Jaehyo’s jaw.
“I’ve seen what’s on your computer, hyung.” Jiho laughs in to his neck, and Jaehyo feels his stomach drop. “Your porn with girls in it isn’t half as interesting as the porn with guys.” He moves his mouth along the line of Jaehyo’s neck before placing it beside the shell of his ear. “Guys that look like me.”
Jaehyo shudders besides himself. He hadn’t noticed, it wasn’t intentional, he’ll swear on it, but he can’t say that Jiho’s wrong.
“I knew someone was in my room.” Is all Jaehyo can say, and Jiho shrugs.
“Kyung found them. I just watched.”
And with that he’s back down, wrapping his fingers around Jaehyo’s quickly hardening dick and tugging in a way that forces Jaehyo to look at him. He makes a show of it all, swiping his tongue from right to left along his bottom lip - he knows, he knows it’s his charm, and he uses it to his advantage - and Jaehyo can do nothing but watch as he rubs his lips together with a wet pop.
Jaehyo tries to cling on to the boldness he’d felt when he was rapping and then singing, but it was dropping away fast as Jiho lowered his mouth to the base of Jaehyo’s cock, taking it lightly between his lips but never breaking eye contact. Jaehyo wanted to be loud, wanted to tell Jiho what to do and how to do it, but he knew as well as anyone that Jiho would do things as he pleased.
He stares Jaehyo down as he takes his tongue and drags it up along the underside of his cock, and Jaehyo get a sickening blast of déjà vu as he pictures Jiho with red lipstick clutching a red diamanté skull in his hand.
“Jiho.” Jaeyho forces out, and Jiho grins at him before sealing his mouth around the head of Jaehyo’s cock. He doesn’t do anything past that, simply watches with his well-accustomed sense of delight as he feels more than sees Jaehyo unravel underneath him.
“Ah, why are you doing this to your hyung?” Jaehyo snaps as his hands reach down to flip off Jiho’s snapback. He tosses it aside before turning back to tug sharply at Jiho’s hair, irritated. Jiho winces slightly, and Jaehyo thinks he deserves it for being such a tease.
“Ask for it, then.”
Jaehyo’s mouth drops open at the brazenness of the demand. “What?”
“You want me to suck you off, yeah? Ask me for it.”
“I won’t.”
“I think you will.” Jiho grins, dipping his head to suck a dark bruise on to the inside of Jaehyo’s thigh. Jaehyo feels his shoulders grow tense at the contact, and he fears that if he gets any more turned on he’d get dizzy. He had his pride, but for once he thinks that it might not be all that important in the right circumstances.
“Jiho-“ he starts. “Ah, don’t look at me. Jiho. Will you - get me off?”
“Is that it? That’s rude, even from a hyung.”
“You want me to beg?!”
“Either you do, and I suck your dick right here, or you get out of the studio and tell the others why you’ll be locked in your room for the next hour.”
Jaehyo pales, firstly from the sheer audacity of Jiho’s words, and secondly from the knowledge that, in this situation, Jaehyo would do exactly what Jiho told him to. He couldn’t stop this, even if he wanted. And he definitely did not want to stop this.
“Jiho. Please. Get me off.”
Jiho grins at him, sly and triumphant, giving no indication that he want this just as badly. “Better.” He concedes, and without warning sinks his head along the length of Jaehyo’s dick.
Jaehyo feels the air punched out of him as Jiho takes him in his mouth, the wet heat pressing and his thick lips working to draw every sound and sensation they can out of the elder. Jaehyo’s moans are quiet at first, shaky and bordering on breathless, but they grow louder as Jaehyo’s legs find purchase around Jiho’s back, and louder still as Jiho’s left hand creeps up to scratch across Jaehyo’s chest and stomach. Jaehyo can feel the head of his own dick knock against the back of Jiho’s throat, and he feels the urge to apologise but there’s no need. Jiho’s eyes have slid close and he’s moaning himself, much deeper, with much more power than Jaehyo. It occurs to Jaeyho that Jiho likes doing this, and then occurs to him that Jiho is getting off from getting him off.
The thought alone is enough to have Jaehyo bite the inside of his cheek until he bleeds, and his neck strains as he arches his back, his entire body under Jiho’s mouth. The pre-existing acoustics of the studio do wonders for the sound, for the creaks of leather and the slick, almost embarrassing sound of Jiho's mouth, for Jaehyo’s keening and the deep, almost sandpaper rough groans that come from Jiho every time Jaehyo pulls to hard or thrusts too deep.
He’s almost undone, he knows his own body well, but Jiho doesn’t and Jaehyo tries to get his attention to pull him off, but Jiho does the opposite and splays his hands along the bones of Jaehyo’s hips as he deepthroats him, meeting Jaehyo’s eyes once more the second that he comes. Jaehyo’s hands fly from Jiho’s hair to his own mouth as he arches sharply off the sofa before slamming back down, choking down his orgasm-driven cry with such force that his eyes water. He’s shaking hard now, but Jiho’s no-where near done.
He reaches around behind himself to unhook Jaehyo’s legs, grabbing his hips to force him to flip on to his stomach. His cheeks bulge as he stands to unzip his own jeans, roughly shoving them down until the hung off one leg. He climbs back on the couch, legs either side of Jaehyo’s hips and he cups a hand under his chin as he spits Jaehyo’s come in to it. He strokes himself with it, and Jaehyo’s breath comes hot and laboured as he cranes his neck to watch.
Jiho’s head lolls on his shoulder, his mouth open and his eyes shut as he touches himself properly for the first time that night. Jaehyo knows he’s not putting on a show now, though he could if he wanted to, but Jaehyo watches him with an intensity anyway. Here at least, he can admit that Jiho is a lot hotter than Jaehyo ever lets on. Not pretty, not like himself, but there’s something about him, something that burns from this inside when he performs and radiates with an afterglow when he doesn’t. He has this pull about him and it’s that that has Jaehyo reaching over to help.
Jiho lets him at first, pops one eye open and looks down at Jaehyo from his kneeling position almost lazily, but then he’s got Jaehyo’s wrist in his free hand and and is pinning it up and over his head on the sofa. Jaehyo can’t help but feel uncomfortable, like he’s on display with only his shirt covering his shoulders, but he ceases caring when he feels Jiho palm at his ass with the hand he was using on himself.
There’s not enough time, not enough resources to get too involved and Jaehyo doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved, but it doesn’t matter to him which side the coin falls on when he feels the slide of Jiho’s dick in between the dip of his ass. It’s got him biting grooves in to his forearm, writhing against the flat press of Jiho’s palm as he braces himself with one hand on Jaehyo’s back and keeps his wrists pinned with the other. He leans forward until they’re flush against one another, and neither of them can breathe. Jaehyo feels himself grow hard again against the leather lining of the sofa, and the rub coupled with Jiho grinding in to him is damn near agonising.
Jiho comes with a sharp shout directly beside Jaehyo’s ear, fingers digging in to his wrists hard enough that Jaehyo’s sure is going to bruise. He pulls off and Jaehyo feels so explicitly, mind numbingly exposed and the embarrassment creeps back in ebbs and flows. He rolls over on to his back, lifting his hips to pull his jeans up before dropping back on to the couch.
Jiho does his own fly up before looking down at Jaehyo, moving to lean over him. Jaehyo half expects Jiho to kiss him, and half wants him to, but he doesn’t, instead opting to purse his lips in Jaehyo’s face in a way that would be mocking if he wasn’t grinning so damn much. Jaehyo puts his hand over his face, shielding his eyes before laughing loudly and deeply. He wasn’t sure what was funny, exactly.
“I think you won this round, hyung.” Jiho chimes, tone light and good natured.
Jaehyo snorts. “I think I did too. Clearly I’m Block B’s secret rap machine.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t run that one by the manager, he might ask you to prove it.” Jiho’s hands finish up with dressing. “I’m hungry. “
It’s an announcement more than anything else, and he walks over to the studio door and pulls it open and leaves Jaehyo alone in the room. It’s only then, a few beats after Jiho had finished talking that Jiho’s words actually catch up with him.
“Wait, Jiho! What do you mean this round?!”