fic: New Car Smell
Title: New Car Smell
Author: dria1029
Pairings: OnHyo (Onew/Hyoshin)
Genre: AU, PWP, Humor?
Warnings: Steamy yaoi car sex, language
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hyoshin’s blind date gives him a different kind of ride
Word Count: 5,629
a/n: Please welcome Shinee’s newest member, my oppa squickz Lol jk he dared me to write some OnHyo, and being the crazy bitch that I am, I did. Hope I did this pairing justice seeing as this is its debut into the Shinee fandom. /bites nails
Blind dates had never been in his best interest, and he was positive this little set up wasn’t go to fare any differently from the last, disappointing fiascos. He’d already been shacked up with the momma’s boy, the “entrepreneur” (who was just the momma’s boy who lived in momma’s basement), the hunky non-committee, the sleaze, the stick in the mud, the gangsta-you name it. All failures, all the time.
But he couldn’t say that he’d tasted the rainbow just yet-and no, that wasn’t meant to be some play on words about his sexuality. He’d never been paired with a man like Jinki. Out of all the wild goose chases Hyoshin idiotically let his cousin send him on, this was, indeed, by far the most implausible. Hyo didn’t know…what to do with him. He just sat there with that ambiguous expression the whole time, sipping his scotch and...well, it looked like, tolerating the one-sided, damn near monologue the 27 year-old was carrying on. That sorry excuse of a date practically escorting him to a humiliating crash n’ burn that was surely a 180 from how shit usually went; with the other guy leaving awkwardly or blowing up the Hawaiian native’s phone with some foolish notion that he’d somehow gained access into Hyo’s life….pants. Whatever the primary target was.
This motherfucker here, oh no, he was just cruel, throwing him to the sharks. In his favorite bar n’ grille no less, where he was a fucking regular. Hyo’s cousin had actually thrown some effort into this arrangement this time-keeping in mind that her big cuzzo wasn’t exactly looking for a flashy penthouse, six figure romance while Jinki, her restationed co-worker, wasn’t a man of many words (Hyoshin’d see about that) or needs beyond what was vital to a healthy 24 year-old male, but he was loving and kind and that was all Hyo wanted, right? There was no way this could fall through right?
So it was utterly beguiling that the taller guy would turn out to be so goddamn rude. Shit, at least the other losers could withstand to hold a conversation with him-no matter how short-lived, face palm worthy, disturbing, or demeaning it was that the petite man ended up tossing his Sidecar on the douche. This Jinki guy-just who the fuck did he think he was? Who was the blithering idiot who taught him to spit game like a Neanderthal?
He’d be damned if his cute face would be seen in Seattle’s public with that motherfucker again. It was in affiliation with his last, frazzled nerve that Hyo finally rose to his feet, hissed that Jinki he could go fuck himself and crassly stormed out when the younger only smiled into his shot glass.
He didn’t have time for this shit. Up until recently, he was the one on and off the dick and better known for breaking hearts. He was the non-materialistic type of high-maintenance any dude would be fortunate enough to be wrapped round his pinky finger, not the other way around. The one who didn’t let you down gently, who didn’t toss you a fucking bone (literally); most of all, the one who was left at the restaurant table flicking a wrist is dismissal and savoring the last drops of alcohol that would help him forget everything in the morning.
This is what he’d rehearsed. You know. To justify that his showy departure was well within right.
Yet in his cab ride back home, there was the part of him that decided Jinki was pretty hot, that the infuriation he’d instilled within the older wasn’t exactly a turn-off…and that he needed to procure Jinki’s number from his cousin to schedule a second date, since the usual exchanges that followed happily-ever-afterdates had been a no show.
Because he just had to go back and give that ass a piece of his mind one last time.
Nothing to do with the way Jinki’s jutting throat pulsed as he drank. Nothing to do with how Hyo was having a hard time not leaving a lovely dark stain in the crotch of his jeans or how the sudden wet daydreams plaguing his head kept him crossing/uncrossing his legs and squirming to the cab driver’s rearview mirrored, beady eyed suspicion.
So before he knew it, he was on the phone with that cousin of his the next afternoon, readily ignoring her squeals of delight that he and Jinki had hit it off; also snorting impudently (“Bitch don’t mess.”) that he only wanted to meet the asshole again for his abandoned…er, jacket. Yeah, he’d left his jacket in Jinki’s car. He just wanted his jacket.
“Be ready by seven oppa, he’s picking you up,” she chirped in a cheery, yet threatening, no-nonsense voice. Then that bitch hung up in his face.
Not exactly how he planned for shit to play out, no, but he got what he asked for, and there was no turning back.
Jinki was indeed there at seven on the dot. He honked the horn once, drawing Hyo over to his window; and the bachelor sniffed with rolling eyes. Thank God it was not a muscle car; in fact, besides for the bold, glinting red paint job that was as cocky as the ding dong behind the wheel, the Nissan Altima Coupe parked in front of his building said a lot about the qualities Hyo had yet to see within its owner. (More like hadn’t stuck around long enough to see.) Something that classy and sleek didn’t click with the rogue, nonchalant exterior Hyo noted of Jinki. Much like wearing a paisley scarf with a poncho: it just didn’t match.
He climbed into the car with a feigned, cross attitude he intended to maintain for the entirety of the “date.” Granted, he was too stubborn to say anything else to the (suited) driver after a snide “Hi,”- but it was hard to resist letting his walls down a little in the smooth riding whip. Hyo found himself not-to-subtly snuggling into the cushy, inky black seat, inhaling artificial mint, shampoo, and leather that all attributed to that new car smell.
Jinki drove undisturbed, not even bothering to turn on the radio to leaven the uncomfortable silence. A tiny smirk played on the edge of his lips that Hyo couldn’t see, one that meant he was rather entertained by how the fiery small fry shifted in both displeasure and, from the way he kept stealing glances to his left, arousal approval.
Really, you could say there lay a fine line between what Hyo secretly found more attractive: the man or his silent engine machine.
Yet Hyoshin’s “good mood” grew damp when he realized the restaurant Jinki had taken him was one of those upscale establishments. Wearing only jeans and a button down (still fashionably casual, let’s not forget) he felt underdressed in the chandeliered venue; and the rat he’d smelled explained why that creep was wearing a fucking tux.
Arms crossed as they were ushered to their reserved table (Reserved!? How the fuck did the bastard manage get a table so quickly in a place like this? He’d add that to his growing “fuck you Jinki” list.), the older refusing to acknowledge the curious, disapproving stares of the other elaborately dressed customers.
He was really hot now, just fuming. This was going too far.
And Hyo let the motherfucker know just how felt even before he could sit down across from him. There was the snarl about why Jinki didn’t give him warning as to where they were going, why the fuck Jinki wouldn’t tell him so he wouldn’t look like an ignoramus amongst the elite; The crack at Jinki’s “monkey suit” for good measure.
Oh, but it didn’t stop there. Since he was already at it, he might as well say what he came to say. Go for the kill.
Jinki smiled good-naturedly as he sipped his scotch again, even chuckling some when Hyo interrupted his own tangent to briefly pick between the wines their waiter presented with a forced, polite grin. He sat patiently through the speech about how he seemed to have no principles, that he needed a personality check, and that “his etiquette was fucking despicable.”
“You have as much social caliber as a rock Lee Jinki, and you’re probably the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.” He downed his second glass at that, holding back from slamming the glass on the table. Glared at his date challengingly, quite pleased with himself.
However, Jinki merely nodded in passive agreement. Just a nod.
Then: “So what are you? I can tell that you’re mixed but I can’t figure out with what.”
“Excuse me, what?” was fired back articulately. (Not)
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting someone as exotic-looking as you, hyung.” Jinki smirked. “Humor me please.”
Huh, and just like that, the beast was tamed. Flattery always tamed the beast, and in Hyoshin’s case, it was potent. He reluctantly brightened in his next spew on how he was Korean and Chinese and whatnot, pointing to his brown skin in animated demonstration. Afterwards he went out on a skeptical limb and asked Jinki how long he had the sexy hunk of metal they’d arrived in-and was surprisingly not disappointed because Jinki actually did more than answer; he beamed proudly, going into his more laid-back story of purchasing his baby the week before.
All was going well in their back and forth until, inevitably, Hyo decided it was strike three with this guy. He’d admitted that he was celibate going on five years, that he was waiting for the soul mate he hoped the winds of fate would graciously blow in.
What did Jinki say to that might one ask?
“Sounds like you need to get laid.”
He brought a forkful of baked tilapia to his lips, casually eying the gradual way the blonde n' black haired man’s expression morphed into an expressionless stare. Time passed in a glacial pace with the quiet that had settled between them-in that which Hyo muttered, “Do I?” in a lava-like voice to break it. Snatching the black napkin from his shirt and flinging it to the table, he found, for the second fucking time in a row, that he was walking out on his cousin’s “carefully selected catch.” People parted like the Red Sea to let the chin-high, hip switching, clearly riled “Moses” through. Carpet hastily blended into concrete when Hyo was under the blanket of a skyscraper lit night and unconsciously heading towards Jinki’s car.
He didn’t realize what he’d done till seconds later, when he noticed how weak his legs were, how hard he was breathing…and that everything down south was throbbing its way to premature ejaculation. Groaning, his slumped his front up against the driver’s door, arms splayed atop the roof of the car in a “V”, body nearly sliding off from how waxed the vehicle was. Without meaning to, he’d given Jinki his trademark signal-the one where he struts in a seductive, somewhat sluttish, bowlegged walk, away from his “victim”, giving the worthy young man invitation to “chase” his way to a victory into Hyo’s “lair.”
It never failed.
And as much as he openly belittled the younger, Hyo knew he was no fool. A blind man would see through the angry bravado and the offended fists pinned to the exiting blonde’s sides.
So Hyoshin half-expected the grab to his shoulder, spinning him around fluidly and bulldozing him back into the car. It was then, with a pair of thick, wet lips swallowing his face whole -sucking the very life out of him-and the more solid, taller figure crashing into him that he was eternally grateful for the person who invented the blind date.
Stout hands roaming his medium built frame, Hyo mewled, pressing back just as dominantly into Jinki’s advances. He didn’t know what to do with his own eager hands, so he settled for slapping them to Jinki’s hips to pull them closer. To which Jinki growled gratefully, so high-strung that his overworking jaws pitted the shorter man’s head against the car painfully, one hand sliding sneakily to clutch Hyo’s slim waist.
“I thought you’d go to the restroom,” Jinki slurred, a line of saliva stretching between them as he sucked out his “victim’s” bottom lip. Hyo nipped down on those vacuuming lips, eliciting a chuckle from the other.
“I don’t fuck in public restrooms, Jinki,” he breathed
“But PDA is perfectly fine.”
“I only fuck where there are four walls, a bed and a locked door.”
“How about four locked doors and four wheels?”
“Wh-
But he was cut off with a bruising, smacking grip to one of his ass cheeks, at first whining at the liquid orgy coursing to where he and Jinki’s bulges made out, then shrieking when he felt himself falling backwards. Somehow, some way, Jinki had maneuvered so that he unlocked and pulled the handle of the door behind his partner, a bit more sneakily than when he’d grabbed Hyo’s waist. And miraculously, Hyo didn’t end up banging his head or sustaining any other accidental injury in the process.
That is, in the event that he would care. The weight of Jinki on him was too good to concede the humor of the situation or the shifting stick digging into his upper back.
Inhaling sharply in their kissing, Hyo widened his jaws to accommodate Jinki fully; shimmying all the way in to the car with the goading body on top, hand gripping the headrest of the passenger seat. It probably looked like a bunch of squirming…or maybe an attack from the way the lady on the sidewalk gasped, frozen in her tracks. But before she could get past, “Oh my”, Jinki jerked up irritably, stretched his long leg so his foot dug into the armrest, and shut the door in her face.
“Asshole,” the older tittered as Jinki dove back in without skipping a beat. He shivered when a hand slid up under the helm of his shirt, enticingly warm palm running up the already ignited skin of his abdomen. Toes curled and loins coiled when Jinki transitioned moistly from his mouth, up his jawline, all the way to his ear to blow into it coolly. “So I am,” he teased deeply, seemingly unfazed with the way his was crunched in the front seats, probably unaware that his words and his pinning thighs were relentlessly harpooning Hyo with throes of crushing (literally) ecstasy.
“We’re not doing this in a car. Take me home.” Yet slender, frustrated hands gripped at Jinki everywhere, wanting the bulky suit off and now. At the same time, his cock was fighting the good fight inside his jeans, begging for the same-and another more gratifying-release.
“Why not?” Jinki whispered huskily, the smell of his scotch wafting between them; though not strong enough to knock out that nosegasm, that straight-out-the-manufacturer’s scent the car harbored-Hyo even detected a hint of coffee prior, whilst laboriously breathing from their heated kisses. Teeth grazed the hollow of Hyo’s throat in the next second, at the duck of his head beneath Hyo’s chin. “The windows are tinted,” a muffled voice assured, amused.
The proud blonde stuttered through the hitching of his voice. “I already can’t believe I’m doing this with a stranger, okay? It would be unorthodox as fuck to do it in a tight-spaced car-”
“But I like it tight,” Jinki smiled craftily into his neck, biting down for a spell and earning a slipped whimper. Hyo’s snigger at the younger’s attempt at a double entendre, though, was short when Jinki suddenly lashed out and grabbed his wrists, slamming the older’s arms over his head. Mechanically, Hyo thighs seemed to part more on their own along with his hiss, authorizing Jinki’s crotch further access to grind against the center of the engorged bane of Hyoshin’s existence. “Besides, don’t you want to help me break in my new baby?” He licked a rough trail to the base of the other man’s neck as if to help “sell” his offer, the cooling residue glistening from the street lamp they were parked near.
Hell yeah he did, but he wasn’t about to tell him. He surely did if Jinki kept up the good work.
As long as Jinki broke him off by breaking him in.
Yes fucking diddly.
“Don’t you hyung?” he repeated darkly, whacking his hips up into Hyo, nearly forcing the guy into car door; the unraveling man bit his lip to stifle a cry. “Do me the honor, hm? Give me some of that tail off the mainland? Hula hula my cock a little?” A few more thrusts, only with the imitating swerves of a salsa dance.
“You’re getting on my nerves,” retorted the breathy, annoyed voice, but again, he was silenced with a bite to his exposed shoulder that could only be inflicted by a sadist. The difference this time around was that Hyo unexpectedly yanked an arm away, effectively snatching Jinki’s bangs up by the roots and pulling his head back. Wide eyes strained down to meet incinerating slits. “You’re getting on my fucking nerves, Jinki.”
Jinki laughed though, a tremor streaming from his skull to his pelvic region. A wild shake of his head repelled the brown hand; he sat back with a mild slap to his hyung’s cheek, smoothing his layered, chestnut hair from his sweat-beaded forehead.
“And you’re getting on your knees, Aloha,” Jinki snarled nastily, shadowed, unblinking gaze countering any mean look Hyo could give at the moment. “Face down, ass up, like you were taught.”
Apparently Hyo hadn’t seen rude yet.
“I hope you can drive a stick,” the younger continued moments later, whilst they stripped each other in a fight for superiority-yes, even with the given that Hyo definitely was catcher in this game. He just wanted to show that cocky son of a bitch that whatever he dished out, he could take it-and then some. Plain and simple. He was that fucking lobster that snapped it’s claws out the rubber bands and at a motherfucker even when being lowered into the boiling pot.
The car rocked on its wheels in their erratic movements, Jinki “accidently” popping a few buttons in his tearing at Hyo’s shirt and Hyo triumphantly discarding the jacket from Jinki’s broad shoulders, de-tucking the white dress shirt, slipping the younger’s tie over his head for shits, giggles and his own kinky indulgence. Mouths swiped at each other with petty vengeance; sloppily, greedily, testily and carnivorous. Torsos brushed tightly, limbs linked, thrown in every direction of the limited, leathery confines; a curse littered here and there, the loudest from a bitten nipple, the softest emitted in palming the other’s underwear-prisoned erection.
They man-handled their way to the backseat in no time, growing even more enthusiastic with each goose-pimpled interaction-especially a certain deprived individual who was now bare chested, hopelessly turned on and hyperventilating from how long it was taking to have Jinki’s cock power drilling him into a disabled crawl to his mama.
“You’re a needy little bitch, aren’t you,” Jinki rasped, slapping the smaller man’s pert little ass. He wasn’t lying when he said Hyoshin would be on his knees-and that was now: naked, wet body compacted into a bent position in the direction of the rear windshield. Hyo forcefully backed his ass into Jinki’s hips in response.
“And you talk too fucking much.”
“Touché.” Jinki’s minimal laughter faded as he generously lathered his fingers with spit, other hand kneading a piano scaled medley into the ripe, wriggling, peach-shaped ass of his would-be fuckee. Meanwhile, a now-sedately still cockslut had just come to terms with the true, king-sized shlong that was about to penetrate his asshole-and recovery, from the looks of his rounded eyes, wasn’t close to the horizon. He hadn’t expected to feel a fucking Bowing when he backed up. He didn’t sign up for this shit!
Then again, what the fuck was he complaining about? Unlike many he’d slept with in the past, this motherfucker’s bark matched his bite. Or at least, the bite Hyoshin would feel once he was stretched wide open.
He moaned without break at the push of Jinki’s thick finger, ravenous walls immediately eating it up, dangling cock beading white at the tip in excited response. Knees made whoppie cushion noises on the seat as he situated himself just right. Jinki, just as appreciative of a stroked dick as a stroked ego, smirked at the preparation for the long “ride”, rewarding his hyung with a second coated finger. In betwixt hammering the convulsing hole, he creatively rubbed the fingers together like cricket legs, and the small gesture produced the most wonderful “music” from the older’s perfectly shaped lips-albeit what he heard was more like an angry rap song than an opera.
“More,” he said in husky command, mouth now watering at the thought of Jinki’s cock filling him till he was giving a backwards blowjob to that assthrasher with his throat. If he was doing all this with his fingers (now three, thrusting digits) then there was no telling what he could do with the third leg sprouting between his hips.
“Shit maneater, you’re gonna break my hand.” Jinki’s arm vibrated in his scissoring, the rest of his body vibrating from a deep chuckle. Hyoshin ignored him, too focused on arching his back deep enough so his ass could work more slickly around the measly trio inside him; just not enough. Play time had to be coming to a close soon.
Or right now.
“I will if you don’t hurry up and fuck me.”
“I’m only doing this for your-
Hyoshin glared back over his damp shoulder.
“And they say redheads are bitchy.” Jinki shook his head, pulling out. He hacked a little into his hand, rubbing the gelatinous substance onto his cock expertly. “But are blonde’s really more fun?”
“I guess you’re about to see,” the older spat in conviction, impatient and already mourning the loss of something stuck inside him. Facing forward again, he gripped the seat with both hands.
“Remind me never to let you top me. Ever.”
“That’s cute, how think I’m seeing you again after this.”
“You are,” he promised evenly, thumbs going in to hold open the clefts of Hyo’s cheeks, cock head kissing the sopping opening.
That’s right. He would. He surely would if this asshat would hurry up and give him good reason to.
Hyo’s hips veered from side to side-a prima donna sigh. “It’s stuffy in here. Can you come correct before I really can’t breathe?”
“Then don’t hold your breath for this,” Jinki suddenly snarled.
And it was in that hovering moment that Hyoshin knew the precise meaning of pain before beauty. As his head was shoved into the carpeted elevation, all consciousness threatened to leave him. Fuck, what was motherfucker eating? All the prep in the world wouldn’t amount to shit with this…fuck.
Hyoshin grunted loudly and unattractively, wincing, trying to will his body to relax, but to avail. It felt like he was being penalized (ha) for his sins or some shit-some karma type shit. Like in some bizarre way he was stretching to give birth to Jinki’s cock.
“Fuck…sssss, fuck. Quit stopping, it’s worse that way…oh fuck…”
“Don’t scratch my seats, boy,” the younger sing-songed in a demonic hiss, voice thick with lust. Jinki had a death grip on one hip, all the restraint he could muster keeping him from saying fuck being a “gentleman” and tearing that ass up. Shit, the little fucker was bold enough climb aboard this train with a half-primed hole. He’d warned him, and he wasn’t about to deny him neither.
Whether Hyoshin heard him over his screaming anus could be up for question. He gnashed his teeth, nails declawing from the leather to curl into banging fists. Body throwing an appreciative fit with Jinki’s antagonizing slow pace.
“Jinki….goddammit…you gotta…ugh, man…fuck me, ughhhhh…”
“I’m already doing that,” Jinki grinned, just loving how he totally took that out of context. Hyo, however, loved to hate it. Yet the line was fine between love and hate when Jinki rolled his hips one good time, sliding in to the hilt, pubs tickling Hyoshin’s inner cheeks. It hurt like shit, yeah, but there was that tiny pang of pleasure he felt for a split second-like how he was exhilarated from the fact he hardly able to breathe from the sealed car and the angle Jinki’s hand had his head firmly placed.
“Ideal that I’d be your first after so long, right? Well if not, I gotta say hyung, I’ve never been in such a tight fucking ass. ”
Although momentarily flattered, he moaned irritably, soft sounds of flesh-on-flesh all he was tuned in to. His thighs weren’t as tense anymore, cock coming back to life from near flaccidity. “You talk…you talk too fucking much. Stop filling…the car-fuck….stop filling the car with more hot air, maybe?”
And for once, Jinki adhered.
The younger’s tempo increased inevitably, body in a thin layer of slippery sweat. And with each change, Hyoshin’s true colors began to shine through. The pain was all but ancient history within a matter of several minute, his ass successfully adjusted to Jinki’s size as it was apt to do. He wasn’t called Headhunter for nothing.
Now he was all stuttered moans, low praises for the beast pulsing rapidly in and out of his gaping, juicy hole, and intelligent expletives like:
“Fuck off my fucking head.” Ducking his head out from under the five-fingered lock, he threw it back in synch with his ass, throwing Jinki for a disarraying loop temporarily. The younger smirked followed though, looking down to watch how he was tapping that ass. Or more truthfully, how that ass was tapping him.
He’d underestimated, and would continue to do so.
This tiny shit was a fucking force.
Jinki hardly knew what to do once the elder graduated to glancing back with open mouthed moaning, arm tossed back to he could hold his own ass open for more of Jinki’s delicious, veiny cock ramming into him. Like, the most he could say was “damn.” Like that was all that was left in his vocabulary library.
He clutched the older’s hips tightly, jerking to keep up. Hyoshin’s cousin had told him all about the man’s club escapades back in his early twenties, how he was Mr. All Eyes On Me on the dance floor often: Jinki could find substance in those claims as of the present with the way Hyo’s ass was grinding down on him-hips gyrating like he was dancing to something upbeat. That thang bouncing, consuming Jinki, sheathing down like this was his last fuck before the end of the world. Edges of his rosy, expanded opening pulling/pushing visibly from the girthy length he currently owned.
“Twerk that ass, baby,” Jinki panted. A pattern picked up with him smacking said ass and snatching chunks of butt meat in the process. Hyo bit his bottom lip after a whimper; a particular, bone shattering thrust his top had provided in his zeal. “Show me how much you love my cock. Matter of fact, you can say it too.”
“Say please dongsaeng,” came the hoarse rumble.
“Please dongsaeng.”
“Okay hands off then, motherfucker.” He was quite serious too. “Because you treatin’ this good good like it’s a fucking Polly Pocket and it looks like I need to school your ass. Don’t let the youthful face fool you, young blood.”
All this said without pause, since he was the master of multitasking. Scolded Jinki with the wind of a chain smoker, yet Jinki was more than willingly to obey. Experience came with age, and in this instance, age could be before or side-by-side with beauty.
So Jinki sat back with his hands behind his head, torn between biting and running his tongue over his lips.
And let his hyung run the show on his own.
“That’s right, fuck yourself on my cock.” The knot in his abdomen clamped insanely, imagining how it must feel-the pressure of his plus sized cock fully corking the smaller man’s hole whenever he slowed for a deep, drawn out fuck; taking a break from the wilder strokes. Once his energy was at its peak again, he shallowly, blurrily impaled himself so that Jinki’s swollen red head peeked out teasingly before he slammed himself back on it, a thin bridge of sticky juice linking cock and asshole. Jinki didn’t know which pleasantly disturbed him more. What did he know anymore, to be honest? He’d have a dried out walnut for a brain by the end of this.
“That little bit of moaning almost insults me, Jinki-ah. Tell hyung what you want so I can hear you better.” With that, he playfully wriggled his ass like a stripper, arching his back like a thoroughbred alley cat. Jinki’s groan was full and open for that one.
“Oh you like that?” He did it again, relishing the younger’s moans; Jinki had no choice but to hold on to the headrests on either side of him so he wouldn’t collapse back into his dashboard from the body numbing holocaust. Oh the power of bombass man pussy. “Fuck, your cock is perfect, did you know that?” The devil was speaking filthy sweet nothings, and Jinki drank it like it was water.
“I’m close hyung,” he admitted moments later, that familiar spell of dizzy and hypersensitivity overtaking him. Solid thighs quivering, he held his ground, still steady, there but really someplace higher. They were both drenched aaaaand he’d probably end up having to clean his seats tomorrow-but at least he could say it was worth it. Hell, it would never end if shit was left up to him. He’d let the more seasoned, cranky, exotic tempter that was Hyoshin run marathons on him all the fucking time. They’d rut like teenagers in his cherry Nissan Altima Coupe anytime.
“So take the wheel again, yeah?” The blonde gazed back with a wicked wink, brown eyes glinting from his own impending explosion; the worn look a beautiful calamity on his face, hair matted to his head in subtle curls. Frankly, he had felt the younger widening inside him anyway, so it was only a matter of time. Besides, he was tired as fuck from this cramping workout.
Jinki was in love then. Or something disguised as it.
He’d incorporated a car into his sexual innuendo.
Yeah. They’d definitely be seeing each other around.
The younger clasped the smaller man’s hips thankfully with a clocked out smile, more or less thrilled to be back in control. Unconsciously angled straight for that spot the older favored, pounds rough and ragged. Loud, ridiculous slapping he heard, but not as loud as the petite male he assaulted. Hyo hadn’t shunned his good looks from Jinki after he’d given him permission to touch him, (control? More like no control. He had a one track mind at this point. Too engrossed in busting that crucial nut) so it was he Jinki set his hazy sights on, listening well to those pleas that he fuck him, make him cum, rip him inside out. Much to his delight, the moans amplified once he remembered that the older should be compensated for putting in all his hard work, so he removed one hand to encircle Hyo’s granite-hard cock and stroked in sync with his barbaric plows. Ah, trusty ol’ filial piety.
Jinki’s jaw dropped, lips parted in huffs after one last push that slightly stung the older. He pulled out quickly just as the ribbons of hot milk emerged; was oblivious to the hand that batted his inactive one away from Hyo’s cock since he was too busy seeing stars (his own or Seattle’s sky?) and aiming for the valley of Hyo’s back. Shortly thereafter he was graced with the image of watching Hyoshin cum by his own doing, the tepid icing staining his hand.
But he had something better than napkins or a faucet.
He had Jinki, the asshole and proud owner of the car they just “baptized.”
He weakly turned around to his equally frizzled partner, popping the jizz fingers into Jinki’s slack mouth, finding it excruciating hot how the younger let some of it dribble down his chin. “You taste…ah fuck it I’ll let you find out for your-mmm. Mmm? Mmm”
So now a line of semen imprinted the middle of his backseat-courtesy of the back that belonged to a dragging cage of arms and a pair of plump lips. The swapping of cum between their mouths ended when an unregretful Jinki swallowed it. Well, he was spent.
But as tired as they were, as much as their motor skills were on the blink, fresh air was beckoning to them most urgently-and they scrambled to put their clothes on (backwards, inside out, whatever) and relieve themselves from the car.
Only to sprawl their selves atop the hood a second later, sighing in unison at the whipping breeze, torsos falling and rising heavily. Let the passersby stare. Hyo ate audiences for breakfast.
“You’re still an asshole. That never changes.”
“You’re still a bitch. Don’t ever change.”
Hyoshin smiled naturally, nothing evil about the gesture…until he pulled something behind his back, something paper that was stuck in the windshield.
“And you’re a great fuck. Now read em n weep.” He smacked the pink slip on Jinki’s forehead with a snicker. Jinki, however, knew exactly what it was without even reading the print; instead folding it prior to pocketing it.
“I’ll look at it this way: a keepsake. My baby’s very first parking ticket.”
“That’s the spirit. Make a scrapbook while you’re at it.”
A brazen chuckle. “Like I said. Don’t ever change.”
Both had to agree silently though. Nothing could ever beat the even “newer” car smell of Jinki’s Nissan.
Nothing except another round.
Author: dria1029
Pairings: OnHyo (Onew/Hyoshin)
Genre: AU, PWP, Humor?
Warnings: Steamy yaoi car sex, language
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hyoshin’s blind date gives him a different kind of ride
Word Count: 5,629
a/n: Please welcome Shinee’s newest member, my oppa squickz Lol jk he dared me to write some OnHyo, and being the crazy bitch that I am, I did. Hope I did this pairing justice seeing as this is its debut into the Shinee fandom. /bites nails
Blind dates had never been in his best interest, and he was positive this little set up wasn’t go to fare any differently from the last, disappointing fiascos. He’d already been shacked up with the momma’s boy, the “entrepreneur” (who was just the momma’s boy who lived in momma’s basement), the hunky non-committee, the sleaze, the stick in the mud, the gangsta-you name it. All failures, all the time.
But he couldn’t say that he’d tasted the rainbow just yet-and no, that wasn’t meant to be some play on words about his sexuality. He’d never been paired with a man like Jinki. Out of all the wild goose chases Hyoshin idiotically let his cousin send him on, this was, indeed, by far the most implausible. Hyo didn’t know…what to do with him. He just sat there with that ambiguous expression the whole time, sipping his scotch and...well, it looked like, tolerating the one-sided, damn near monologue the 27 year-old was carrying on. That sorry excuse of a date practically escorting him to a humiliating crash n’ burn that was surely a 180 from how shit usually went; with the other guy leaving awkwardly or blowing up the Hawaiian native’s phone with some foolish notion that he’d somehow gained access into Hyo’s life….pants. Whatever the primary target was.
This motherfucker here, oh no, he was just cruel, throwing him to the sharks. In his favorite bar n’ grille no less, where he was a fucking regular. Hyo’s cousin had actually thrown some effort into this arrangement this time-keeping in mind that her big cuzzo wasn’t exactly looking for a flashy penthouse, six figure romance while Jinki, her restationed co-worker, wasn’t a man of many words (Hyoshin’d see about that) or needs beyond what was vital to a healthy 24 year-old male, but he was loving and kind and that was all Hyo wanted, right? There was no way this could fall through right?
So it was utterly beguiling that the taller guy would turn out to be so goddamn rude. Shit, at least the other losers could withstand to hold a conversation with him-no matter how short-lived, face palm worthy, disturbing, or demeaning it was that the petite man ended up tossing his Sidecar on the douche. This Jinki guy-just who the fuck did he think he was? Who was the blithering idiot who taught him to spit game like a Neanderthal?
He’d be damned if his cute face would be seen in Seattle’s public with that motherfucker again. It was in affiliation with his last, frazzled nerve that Hyo finally rose to his feet, hissed that Jinki he could go fuck himself and crassly stormed out when the younger only smiled into his shot glass.
He didn’t have time for this shit. Up until recently, he was the one on and off the dick and better known for breaking hearts. He was the non-materialistic type of high-maintenance any dude would be fortunate enough to be wrapped round his pinky finger, not the other way around. The one who didn’t let you down gently, who didn’t toss you a fucking bone (literally); most of all, the one who was left at the restaurant table flicking a wrist is dismissal and savoring the last drops of alcohol that would help him forget everything in the morning.
This is what he’d rehearsed. You know. To justify that his showy departure was well within right.
Yet in his cab ride back home, there was the part of him that decided Jinki was pretty hot, that the infuriation he’d instilled within the older wasn’t exactly a turn-off…and that he needed to procure Jinki’s number from his cousin to schedule a second date, since the usual exchanges that followed happily-ever-afterdates had been a no show.
Because he just had to go back and give that ass a piece of his mind one last time.
Nothing to do with the way Jinki’s jutting throat pulsed as he drank. Nothing to do with how Hyo was having a hard time not leaving a lovely dark stain in the crotch of his jeans or how the sudden wet daydreams plaguing his head kept him crossing/uncrossing his legs and squirming to the cab driver’s rearview mirrored, beady eyed suspicion.
So before he knew it, he was on the phone with that cousin of his the next afternoon, readily ignoring her squeals of delight that he and Jinki had hit it off; also snorting impudently (“Bitch don’t mess.”) that he only wanted to meet the asshole again for his abandoned…er, jacket. Yeah, he’d left his jacket in Jinki’s car. He just wanted his jacket.
“Be ready by seven oppa, he’s picking you up,” she chirped in a cheery, yet threatening, no-nonsense voice. Then that bitch hung up in his face.
Not exactly how he planned for shit to play out, no, but he got what he asked for, and there was no turning back.
Jinki was indeed there at seven on the dot. He honked the horn once, drawing Hyo over to his window; and the bachelor sniffed with rolling eyes. Thank God it was not a muscle car; in fact, besides for the bold, glinting red paint job that was as cocky as the ding dong behind the wheel, the Nissan Altima Coupe parked in front of his building said a lot about the qualities Hyo had yet to see within its owner. (More like hadn’t stuck around long enough to see.) Something that classy and sleek didn’t click with the rogue, nonchalant exterior Hyo noted of Jinki. Much like wearing a paisley scarf with a poncho: it just didn’t match.
He climbed into the car with a feigned, cross attitude he intended to maintain for the entirety of the “date.” Granted, he was too stubborn to say anything else to the (suited) driver after a snide “Hi,”- but it was hard to resist letting his walls down a little in the smooth riding whip. Hyo found himself not-to-subtly snuggling into the cushy, inky black seat, inhaling artificial mint, shampoo, and leather that all attributed to that new car smell.
Jinki drove undisturbed, not even bothering to turn on the radio to leaven the uncomfortable silence. A tiny smirk played on the edge of his lips that Hyo couldn’t see, one that meant he was rather entertained by how the fiery small fry shifted in both displeasure and, from the way he kept stealing glances to his left, arousal approval.
Really, you could say there lay a fine line between what Hyo secretly found more attractive: the man or his silent engine machine.
Yet Hyoshin’s “good mood” grew damp when he realized the restaurant Jinki had taken him was one of those upscale establishments. Wearing only jeans and a button down (still fashionably casual, let’s not forget) he felt underdressed in the chandeliered venue; and the rat he’d smelled explained why that creep was wearing a fucking tux.
Arms crossed as they were ushered to their reserved table (Reserved!? How the fuck did the bastard manage get a table so quickly in a place like this? He’d add that to his growing “fuck you Jinki” list.), the older refusing to acknowledge the curious, disapproving stares of the other elaborately dressed customers.
He was really hot now, just fuming. This was going too far.
And Hyo let the motherfucker know just how felt even before he could sit down across from him. There was the snarl about why Jinki didn’t give him warning as to where they were going, why the fuck Jinki wouldn’t tell him so he wouldn’t look like an ignoramus amongst the elite; The crack at Jinki’s “monkey suit” for good measure.
Oh, but it didn’t stop there. Since he was already at it, he might as well say what he came to say. Go for the kill.
Jinki smiled good-naturedly as he sipped his scotch again, even chuckling some when Hyo interrupted his own tangent to briefly pick between the wines their waiter presented with a forced, polite grin. He sat patiently through the speech about how he seemed to have no principles, that he needed a personality check, and that “his etiquette was fucking despicable.”
“You have as much social caliber as a rock Lee Jinki, and you’re probably the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.” He downed his second glass at that, holding back from slamming the glass on the table. Glared at his date challengingly, quite pleased with himself.
However, Jinki merely nodded in passive agreement. Just a nod.
Then: “So what are you? I can tell that you’re mixed but I can’t figure out with what.”
“Excuse me, what?” was fired back articulately. (Not)
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting someone as exotic-looking as you, hyung.” Jinki smirked. “Humor me please.”
Huh, and just like that, the beast was tamed. Flattery always tamed the beast, and in Hyoshin’s case, it was potent. He reluctantly brightened in his next spew on how he was Korean and Chinese and whatnot, pointing to his brown skin in animated demonstration. Afterwards he went out on a skeptical limb and asked Jinki how long he had the sexy hunk of metal they’d arrived in-and was surprisingly not disappointed because Jinki actually did more than answer; he beamed proudly, going into his more laid-back story of purchasing his baby the week before.
All was going well in their back and forth until, inevitably, Hyo decided it was strike three with this guy. He’d admitted that he was celibate going on five years, that he was waiting for the soul mate he hoped the winds of fate would graciously blow in.
What did Jinki say to that might one ask?
“Sounds like you need to get laid.”
He brought a forkful of baked tilapia to his lips, casually eying the gradual way the blonde n' black haired man’s expression morphed into an expressionless stare. Time passed in a glacial pace with the quiet that had settled between them-in that which Hyo muttered, “Do I?” in a lava-like voice to break it. Snatching the black napkin from his shirt and flinging it to the table, he found, for the second fucking time in a row, that he was walking out on his cousin’s “carefully selected catch.” People parted like the Red Sea to let the chin-high, hip switching, clearly riled “Moses” through. Carpet hastily blended into concrete when Hyo was under the blanket of a skyscraper lit night and unconsciously heading towards Jinki’s car.
He didn’t realize what he’d done till seconds later, when he noticed how weak his legs were, how hard he was breathing…and that everything down south was throbbing its way to premature ejaculation. Groaning, his slumped his front up against the driver’s door, arms splayed atop the roof of the car in a “V”, body nearly sliding off from how waxed the vehicle was. Without meaning to, he’d given Jinki his trademark signal-the one where he struts in a seductive, somewhat sluttish, bowlegged walk, away from his “victim”, giving the worthy young man invitation to “chase” his way to a victory into Hyo’s “lair.”
It never failed.
And as much as he openly belittled the younger, Hyo knew he was no fool. A blind man would see through the angry bravado and the offended fists pinned to the exiting blonde’s sides.
So Hyoshin half-expected the grab to his shoulder, spinning him around fluidly and bulldozing him back into the car. It was then, with a pair of thick, wet lips swallowing his face whole -sucking the very life out of him-and the more solid, taller figure crashing into him that he was eternally grateful for the person who invented the blind date.
Stout hands roaming his medium built frame, Hyo mewled, pressing back just as dominantly into Jinki’s advances. He didn’t know what to do with his own eager hands, so he settled for slapping them to Jinki’s hips to pull them closer. To which Jinki growled gratefully, so high-strung that his overworking jaws pitted the shorter man’s head against the car painfully, one hand sliding sneakily to clutch Hyo’s slim waist.
“I thought you’d go to the restroom,” Jinki slurred, a line of saliva stretching between them as he sucked out his “victim’s” bottom lip. Hyo nipped down on those vacuuming lips, eliciting a chuckle from the other.
“I don’t fuck in public restrooms, Jinki,” he breathed
“But PDA is perfectly fine.”
“I only fuck where there are four walls, a bed and a locked door.”
“How about four locked doors and four wheels?”
“Wh-
But he was cut off with a bruising, smacking grip to one of his ass cheeks, at first whining at the liquid orgy coursing to where he and Jinki’s bulges made out, then shrieking when he felt himself falling backwards. Somehow, some way, Jinki had maneuvered so that he unlocked and pulled the handle of the door behind his partner, a bit more sneakily than when he’d grabbed Hyo’s waist. And miraculously, Hyo didn’t end up banging his head or sustaining any other accidental injury in the process.
That is, in the event that he would care. The weight of Jinki on him was too good to concede the humor of the situation or the shifting stick digging into his upper back.
Inhaling sharply in their kissing, Hyo widened his jaws to accommodate Jinki fully; shimmying all the way in to the car with the goading body on top, hand gripping the headrest of the passenger seat. It probably looked like a bunch of squirming…or maybe an attack from the way the lady on the sidewalk gasped, frozen in her tracks. But before she could get past, “Oh my”, Jinki jerked up irritably, stretched his long leg so his foot dug into the armrest, and shut the door in her face.
“Asshole,” the older tittered as Jinki dove back in without skipping a beat. He shivered when a hand slid up under the helm of his shirt, enticingly warm palm running up the already ignited skin of his abdomen. Toes curled and loins coiled when Jinki transitioned moistly from his mouth, up his jawline, all the way to his ear to blow into it coolly. “So I am,” he teased deeply, seemingly unfazed with the way his was crunched in the front seats, probably unaware that his words and his pinning thighs were relentlessly harpooning Hyo with throes of crushing (literally) ecstasy.
“We’re not doing this in a car. Take me home.” Yet slender, frustrated hands gripped at Jinki everywhere, wanting the bulky suit off and now. At the same time, his cock was fighting the good fight inside his jeans, begging for the same-and another more gratifying-release.
“Why not?” Jinki whispered huskily, the smell of his scotch wafting between them; though not strong enough to knock out that nosegasm, that straight-out-the-manufacturer’s scent the car harbored-Hyo even detected a hint of coffee prior, whilst laboriously breathing from their heated kisses. Teeth grazed the hollow of Hyo’s throat in the next second, at the duck of his head beneath Hyo’s chin. “The windows are tinted,” a muffled voice assured, amused.
The proud blonde stuttered through the hitching of his voice. “I already can’t believe I’m doing this with a stranger, okay? It would be unorthodox as fuck to do it in a tight-spaced car-”
“But I like it tight,” Jinki smiled craftily into his neck, biting down for a spell and earning a slipped whimper. Hyo’s snigger at the younger’s attempt at a double entendre, though, was short when Jinki suddenly lashed out and grabbed his wrists, slamming the older’s arms over his head. Mechanically, Hyo thighs seemed to part more on their own along with his hiss, authorizing Jinki’s crotch further access to grind against the center of the engorged bane of Hyoshin’s existence. “Besides, don’t you want to help me break in my new baby?” He licked a rough trail to the base of the other man’s neck as if to help “sell” his offer, the cooling residue glistening from the street lamp they were parked near.
Hell yeah he did, but he wasn’t about to tell him. He surely did if Jinki kept up the good work.
As long as Jinki broke him off by breaking him in.
Yes fucking diddly.
“Don’t you hyung?” he repeated darkly, whacking his hips up into Hyo, nearly forcing the guy into car door; the unraveling man bit his lip to stifle a cry. “Do me the honor, hm? Give me some of that tail off the mainland? Hula hula my cock a little?” A few more thrusts, only with the imitating swerves of a salsa dance.
“You’re getting on my nerves,” retorted the breathy, annoyed voice, but again, he was silenced with a bite to his exposed shoulder that could only be inflicted by a sadist. The difference this time around was that Hyo unexpectedly yanked an arm away, effectively snatching Jinki’s bangs up by the roots and pulling his head back. Wide eyes strained down to meet incinerating slits. “You’re getting on my fucking nerves, Jinki.”
Jinki laughed though, a tremor streaming from his skull to his pelvic region. A wild shake of his head repelled the brown hand; he sat back with a mild slap to his hyung’s cheek, smoothing his layered, chestnut hair from his sweat-beaded forehead.
“And you’re getting on your knees, Aloha,” Jinki snarled nastily, shadowed, unblinking gaze countering any mean look Hyo could give at the moment. “Face down, ass up, like you were taught.”
Apparently Hyo hadn’t seen rude yet.
“I hope you can drive a stick,” the younger continued moments later, whilst they stripped each other in a fight for superiority-yes, even with the given that Hyo definitely was catcher in this game. He just wanted to show that cocky son of a bitch that whatever he dished out, he could take it-and then some. Plain and simple. He was that fucking lobster that snapped it’s claws out the rubber bands and at a motherfucker even when being lowered into the boiling pot.
The car rocked on its wheels in their erratic movements, Jinki “accidently” popping a few buttons in his tearing at Hyo’s shirt and Hyo triumphantly discarding the jacket from Jinki’s broad shoulders, de-tucking the white dress shirt, slipping the younger’s tie over his head for shits, giggles and his own kinky indulgence. Mouths swiped at each other with petty vengeance; sloppily, greedily, testily and carnivorous. Torsos brushed tightly, limbs linked, thrown in every direction of the limited, leathery confines; a curse littered here and there, the loudest from a bitten nipple, the softest emitted in palming the other’s underwear-prisoned erection.
They man-handled their way to the backseat in no time, growing even more enthusiastic with each goose-pimpled interaction-especially a certain deprived individual who was now bare chested, hopelessly turned on and hyperventilating from how long it was taking to have Jinki’s cock power drilling him into a disabled crawl to his mama.
“You’re a needy little bitch, aren’t you,” Jinki rasped, slapping the smaller man’s pert little ass. He wasn’t lying when he said Hyoshin would be on his knees-and that was now: naked, wet body compacted into a bent position in the direction of the rear windshield. Hyo forcefully backed his ass into Jinki’s hips in response.
“And you talk too fucking much.”
“Touché.” Jinki’s minimal laughter faded as he generously lathered his fingers with spit, other hand kneading a piano scaled medley into the ripe, wriggling, peach-shaped ass of his would-be fuckee. Meanwhile, a now-sedately still cockslut had just come to terms with the true, king-sized shlong that was about to penetrate his asshole-and recovery, from the looks of his rounded eyes, wasn’t close to the horizon. He hadn’t expected to feel a fucking Bowing when he backed up. He didn’t sign up for this shit!
Then again, what the fuck was he complaining about? Unlike many he’d slept with in the past, this motherfucker’s bark matched his bite. Or at least, the bite Hyoshin would feel once he was stretched wide open.
He moaned without break at the push of Jinki’s thick finger, ravenous walls immediately eating it up, dangling cock beading white at the tip in excited response. Knees made whoppie cushion noises on the seat as he situated himself just right. Jinki, just as appreciative of a stroked dick as a stroked ego, smirked at the preparation for the long “ride”, rewarding his hyung with a second coated finger. In betwixt hammering the convulsing hole, he creatively rubbed the fingers together like cricket legs, and the small gesture produced the most wonderful “music” from the older’s perfectly shaped lips-albeit what he heard was more like an angry rap song than an opera.
“More,” he said in husky command, mouth now watering at the thought of Jinki’s cock filling him till he was giving a backwards blowjob to that assthrasher with his throat. If he was doing all this with his fingers (now three, thrusting digits) then there was no telling what he could do with the third leg sprouting between his hips.
“Shit maneater, you’re gonna break my hand.” Jinki’s arm vibrated in his scissoring, the rest of his body vibrating from a deep chuckle. Hyoshin ignored him, too focused on arching his back deep enough so his ass could work more slickly around the measly trio inside him; just not enough. Play time had to be coming to a close soon.
Or right now.
“I will if you don’t hurry up and fuck me.”
“I’m only doing this for your-
Hyoshin glared back over his damp shoulder.
“And they say redheads are bitchy.” Jinki shook his head, pulling out. He hacked a little into his hand, rubbing the gelatinous substance onto his cock expertly. “But are blonde’s really more fun?”
“I guess you’re about to see,” the older spat in conviction, impatient and already mourning the loss of something stuck inside him. Facing forward again, he gripped the seat with both hands.
“Remind me never to let you top me. Ever.”
“That’s cute, how think I’m seeing you again after this.”
“You are,” he promised evenly, thumbs going in to hold open the clefts of Hyo’s cheeks, cock head kissing the sopping opening.
That’s right. He would. He surely would if this asshat would hurry up and give him good reason to.
Hyo’s hips veered from side to side-a prima donna sigh. “It’s stuffy in here. Can you come correct before I really can’t breathe?”
“Then don’t hold your breath for this,” Jinki suddenly snarled.
And it was in that hovering moment that Hyoshin knew the precise meaning of pain before beauty. As his head was shoved into the carpeted elevation, all consciousness threatened to leave him. Fuck, what was motherfucker eating? All the prep in the world wouldn’t amount to shit with this…fuck.
Hyoshin grunted loudly and unattractively, wincing, trying to will his body to relax, but to avail. It felt like he was being penalized (ha) for his sins or some shit-some karma type shit. Like in some bizarre way he was stretching to give birth to Jinki’s cock.
“Fuck…sssss, fuck. Quit stopping, it’s worse that way…oh fuck…”
“Don’t scratch my seats, boy,” the younger sing-songed in a demonic hiss, voice thick with lust. Jinki had a death grip on one hip, all the restraint he could muster keeping him from saying fuck being a “gentleman” and tearing that ass up. Shit, the little fucker was bold enough climb aboard this train with a half-primed hole. He’d warned him, and he wasn’t about to deny him neither.
Whether Hyoshin heard him over his screaming anus could be up for question. He gnashed his teeth, nails declawing from the leather to curl into banging fists. Body throwing an appreciative fit with Jinki’s antagonizing slow pace.
“Jinki….goddammit…you gotta…ugh, man…fuck me, ughhhhh…”
“I’m already doing that,” Jinki grinned, just loving how he totally took that out of context. Hyo, however, loved to hate it. Yet the line was fine between love and hate when Jinki rolled his hips one good time, sliding in to the hilt, pubs tickling Hyoshin’s inner cheeks. It hurt like shit, yeah, but there was that tiny pang of pleasure he felt for a split second-like how he was exhilarated from the fact he hardly able to breathe from the sealed car and the angle Jinki’s hand had his head firmly placed.
“Ideal that I’d be your first after so long, right? Well if not, I gotta say hyung, I’ve never been in such a tight fucking ass. ”
Although momentarily flattered, he moaned irritably, soft sounds of flesh-on-flesh all he was tuned in to. His thighs weren’t as tense anymore, cock coming back to life from near flaccidity. “You talk…you talk too fucking much. Stop filling…the car-fuck….stop filling the car with more hot air, maybe?”
And for once, Jinki adhered.
The younger’s tempo increased inevitably, body in a thin layer of slippery sweat. And with each change, Hyoshin’s true colors began to shine through. The pain was all but ancient history within a matter of several minute, his ass successfully adjusted to Jinki’s size as it was apt to do. He wasn’t called Headhunter for nothing.
Now he was all stuttered moans, low praises for the beast pulsing rapidly in and out of his gaping, juicy hole, and intelligent expletives like:
“Fuck off my fucking head.” Ducking his head out from under the five-fingered lock, he threw it back in synch with his ass, throwing Jinki for a disarraying loop temporarily. The younger smirked followed though, looking down to watch how he was tapping that ass. Or more truthfully, how that ass was tapping him.
He’d underestimated, and would continue to do so.
This tiny shit was a fucking force.
Jinki hardly knew what to do once the elder graduated to glancing back with open mouthed moaning, arm tossed back to he could hold his own ass open for more of Jinki’s delicious, veiny cock ramming into him. Like, the most he could say was “damn.” Like that was all that was left in his vocabulary library.
He clutched the older’s hips tightly, jerking to keep up. Hyoshin’s cousin had told him all about the man’s club escapades back in his early twenties, how he was Mr. All Eyes On Me on the dance floor often: Jinki could find substance in those claims as of the present with the way Hyo’s ass was grinding down on him-hips gyrating like he was dancing to something upbeat. That thang bouncing, consuming Jinki, sheathing down like this was his last fuck before the end of the world. Edges of his rosy, expanded opening pulling/pushing visibly from the girthy length he currently owned.
“Twerk that ass, baby,” Jinki panted. A pattern picked up with him smacking said ass and snatching chunks of butt meat in the process. Hyo bit his bottom lip after a whimper; a particular, bone shattering thrust his top had provided in his zeal. “Show me how much you love my cock. Matter of fact, you can say it too.”
“Say please dongsaeng,” came the hoarse rumble.
“Please dongsaeng.”
“Okay hands off then, motherfucker.” He was quite serious too. “Because you treatin’ this good good like it’s a fucking Polly Pocket and it looks like I need to school your ass. Don’t let the youthful face fool you, young blood.”
All this said without pause, since he was the master of multitasking. Scolded Jinki with the wind of a chain smoker, yet Jinki was more than willingly to obey. Experience came with age, and in this instance, age could be before or side-by-side with beauty.
So Jinki sat back with his hands behind his head, torn between biting and running his tongue over his lips.
And let his hyung run the show on his own.
“That’s right, fuck yourself on my cock.” The knot in his abdomen clamped insanely, imagining how it must feel-the pressure of his plus sized cock fully corking the smaller man’s hole whenever he slowed for a deep, drawn out fuck; taking a break from the wilder strokes. Once his energy was at its peak again, he shallowly, blurrily impaled himself so that Jinki’s swollen red head peeked out teasingly before he slammed himself back on it, a thin bridge of sticky juice linking cock and asshole. Jinki didn’t know which pleasantly disturbed him more. What did he know anymore, to be honest? He’d have a dried out walnut for a brain by the end of this.
“That little bit of moaning almost insults me, Jinki-ah. Tell hyung what you want so I can hear you better.” With that, he playfully wriggled his ass like a stripper, arching his back like a thoroughbred alley cat. Jinki’s groan was full and open for that one.
“Oh you like that?” He did it again, relishing the younger’s moans; Jinki had no choice but to hold on to the headrests on either side of him so he wouldn’t collapse back into his dashboard from the body numbing holocaust. Oh the power of bombass man pussy. “Fuck, your cock is perfect, did you know that?” The devil was speaking filthy sweet nothings, and Jinki drank it like it was water.
“I’m close hyung,” he admitted moments later, that familiar spell of dizzy and hypersensitivity overtaking him. Solid thighs quivering, he held his ground, still steady, there but really someplace higher. They were both drenched aaaaand he’d probably end up having to clean his seats tomorrow-but at least he could say it was worth it. Hell, it would never end if shit was left up to him. He’d let the more seasoned, cranky, exotic tempter that was Hyoshin run marathons on him all the fucking time. They’d rut like teenagers in his cherry Nissan Altima Coupe anytime.
“So take the wheel again, yeah?” The blonde gazed back with a wicked wink, brown eyes glinting from his own impending explosion; the worn look a beautiful calamity on his face, hair matted to his head in subtle curls. Frankly, he had felt the younger widening inside him anyway, so it was only a matter of time. Besides, he was tired as fuck from this cramping workout.
Jinki was in love then. Or something disguised as it.
He’d incorporated a car into his sexual innuendo.
Yeah. They’d definitely be seeing each other around.
The younger clasped the smaller man’s hips thankfully with a clocked out smile, more or less thrilled to be back in control. Unconsciously angled straight for that spot the older favored, pounds rough and ragged. Loud, ridiculous slapping he heard, but not as loud as the petite male he assaulted. Hyo hadn’t shunned his good looks from Jinki after he’d given him permission to touch him, (control? More like no control. He had a one track mind at this point. Too engrossed in busting that crucial nut) so it was he Jinki set his hazy sights on, listening well to those pleas that he fuck him, make him cum, rip him inside out. Much to his delight, the moans amplified once he remembered that the older should be compensated for putting in all his hard work, so he removed one hand to encircle Hyo’s granite-hard cock and stroked in sync with his barbaric plows. Ah, trusty ol’ filial piety.
Jinki’s jaw dropped, lips parted in huffs after one last push that slightly stung the older. He pulled out quickly just as the ribbons of hot milk emerged; was oblivious to the hand that batted his inactive one away from Hyo’s cock since he was too busy seeing stars (his own or Seattle’s sky?) and aiming for the valley of Hyo’s back. Shortly thereafter he was graced with the image of watching Hyoshin cum by his own doing, the tepid icing staining his hand.
But he had something better than napkins or a faucet.
He had Jinki, the asshole and proud owner of the car they just “baptized.”
He weakly turned around to his equally frizzled partner, popping the jizz fingers into Jinki’s slack mouth, finding it excruciating hot how the younger let some of it dribble down his chin. “You taste…ah fuck it I’ll let you find out for your-mmm. Mmm? Mmm”
So now a line of semen imprinted the middle of his backseat-courtesy of the back that belonged to a dragging cage of arms and a pair of plump lips. The swapping of cum between their mouths ended when an unregretful Jinki swallowed it. Well, he was spent.
But as tired as they were, as much as their motor skills were on the blink, fresh air was beckoning to them most urgently-and they scrambled to put their clothes on (backwards, inside out, whatever) and relieve themselves from the car.
Only to sprawl their selves atop the hood a second later, sighing in unison at the whipping breeze, torsos falling and rising heavily. Let the passersby stare. Hyo ate audiences for breakfast.
“You’re still an asshole. That never changes.”
“You’re still a bitch. Don’t ever change.”
Hyoshin smiled naturally, nothing evil about the gesture…until he pulled something behind his back, something paper that was stuck in the windshield.
“And you’re a great fuck. Now read em n weep.” He smacked the pink slip on Jinki’s forehead with a snicker. Jinki, however, knew exactly what it was without even reading the print; instead folding it prior to pocketing it.
“I’ll look at it this way: a keepsake. My baby’s very first parking ticket.”
“That’s the spirit. Make a scrapbook while you’re at it.”
A brazen chuckle. “Like I said. Don’t ever change.”
Both had to agree silently though. Nothing could ever beat the even “newer” car smell of Jinki’s Nissan.
Nothing except another round.