Wanna Fuck?
Title: Wanna Fuck?
Series: Wanna? Part 2 of 3
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jonghyun/Key
Summary: Since Jonghyun doesn’t want to make out, surely there’s other things he would let Key do, right?
Notes: None of this is supposed to make sense.
[ Wanna Make Out?]
“Can I touch your boobs?”
A thick silence stretched in the space between Key, who was standing at the stove, and Jonghyun, who was sitting at the table.
“My what.” Jonghyun stared at Key.
“Your boobs,” Key said, like he was talking about the weather. His eyes dipped to the shirt Jonghyun was wearing; it was a black shirt with a collar so loose and low that it exposed the dip between his pec muscles, that hard line that just begged to have a mouth drag over it.
Jonghyun looked properly scandalized, as he put a palm over his chest to hide his modesty while standing up and grabbing his magazine, most likely to retreat to the living room or go put on a sweater.
Key smirked.
He was still bitter about the subway incident.
--
Jonghyun walked into his bedroom to find a rather odd scene.
Minho and Key were standing in front of Minho’s bed, the smaller rapper’s hands on the tall boy’s chest, his fingers squeezing and his palms molesting, a calculating look on his features. Jonghyun blinked, his hands moving to cover his own chest, as if it were in danger of being molested as well.
“I’m thinking about buying Minho a bra,” Key said, even though he knew Jonghyun wasn’t even going to question what was happening.
Minho just went along with it, knowing better than to be affected by Key’s quirks. Key pat Minho on the chest affectionately and pinched his cheek (Minho punched him in the shoulder) and then turned to leave.
“Jonghyun, I’ll be sure to get you a trainer bra while I’m out, since you’re not quite as developed as Minho~”
Key shut the door before Jonghyun could lob his shoe at him.
--
“What are you staring at?” Jonghyun finally put down his magazine after Key had been staring at his face for the past five minutes, and the only notion of victory Key made was the twitch in his right eye.
“Your nose,” Key said.
“What about my nose,” Jonghyun asked, his voice deadpan as he met Key’s gaze.
“Your nostrils.”
Key could see Jonghyun’s jaw clenching under his skin, “What about my nostrils.”
“Did you know they’re uneven?”
If anyone was especially worried about their outer appearance in SHINee, it was Jonghyun. He took lessons well from Key. And he exercised such practice as he moved a hand up to cover his nose, all while narrowing his eyes at Key.
“Go away.”
“But I want a better look.” Key leaned closer, practically in Jonghyun’s lap.
“No!”
“Can I lick them?”
“Why are you so weird!?” Jonghyun kicked at Key and removed his hand from his nose so all of his limbs could try and push Key off of the couch. “What did I do to deserve this!?”
Key pouted and pulled back, “Well… would you rather make out with me?”
Jonghyun grunted and got up, throwing his magazine on the coffee table and slamming the door to his room shut.
“Something’s off, here,” Jinki said, adjusting his glasses as he exited the bathroom.
“Yeah, your pants,” Key said, huffing and throwing a pillow at Jinki’s groin.
“Aiee!”
--
Key copped a feel at every opportunity. He grabbed Jonghyun’s chest, his ass, his hips, his biceps, his fingers even wandered to belt loops and the hem of the older man’s shirt. Their comeback in Japan had been delayed due to the natural disaster and they had no schedule in the meantime - and even if they managed to be wrangled onto a show of some sort, Key wasn’t holding back.
Key knew he was getting on Jonghyun’s nerves. He could feel Jonghyun shudder beneath his finger tips when he managed to scratch over an exposed hip bone, he could see the tension in those broad shoulders when his breath ghosted over Jonghyun’s ear.
Just when he was sure Jonghyun was at his breaking point, though, Key stopped.
“You give up?” Jinki blinked and looked up from the same crossword puzzle he’d been doing for weeks.
Key nodded and shrugged, humming as he separated whites from colors.
“And you’re ok with not having been able to make out with him?” Jinki pressed.
“Mhm,” Key hummed.
Jinki sat back and moved his bangs to scratch at his forehead, before shrugging and returning to his crossword puzzle. “Something’s definitely off.”
Key ignored him and made sure to put one of his red articles of clothing into Jonghyun’s white pile.
--
“What the fuck is your problem!?”
Jonghyun was standing in the tiny door that lead to the tiny laundry room, in the tiny hallway that separated that part of the dorm from the living room. He was holding his favorite white sweatshirt, which was now tinted a soft, bubblegum pink, shaking it furiously in his fist.
Key held back his laughter as he widened his eyes and tilted his head, “What?”
“I know you hate doing laundry and maybe that’s why you suck at it but come on Kibum, this was my favorite sweatshirt!”
Key scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You look good in pink, I don’t know why you’re throwing a fit.” He turned around to reach up to the cupboard and grab the box of dryer sheets, and the air left his lungs as he was pushed from behind and his gut got stabbed by the edge of the dryer.
Jonghyun’s hands were big and warm on his hips as that broad chest pressed against Key’s back, and Key stiffened, feeling the anger rolling off of the older boy’s body in waves.
“First you paw all over me,” Jonghyun said, his voice gruff and lower than Key had ever heard it. His hands slid around Key’s hips to his stomach, sliding under the younger’s t-shirt as if to make an example of his words. “You say you want to make out with me, you start touching me and teasing me.” His hands slid up further, thumbs brushing over Key’s hardening nipples, causing Key to inhale sharply. Jonghyun shifted and his lips were at the shell of Key’s ear, breathing hotly into it, his pretty teeth scraping over the flesh. “And then you just stopped.”
Jonghyun pulled away and left the laundry room, his anger still lingering and electrocuting molecules of oxygen in the air that Key was trying to inhale as the rapper straightened, elbows trembling as his hands propped himself up on the dryer. Key’s heart was hammering, his pulse was racing and as he stared down at the box of dryer sheets he had dropped, he tried to piece together what had just happened.
An hour later, still in the laundry room and holding Jonghyun’s pink tinted sweatshirt, Key still didn’t know what just happened.
--
The tables were turned and Key didn’t know what to do now. Yes, he still wanted to make out with Jonghyun. But he had wanted to make out with Jonghyun because Jonghyun hadn’t wanted to make out with him. It was just another elaborate scheme to piss off the older boy and then apologize and get cuddles after they laughed about the joke.
It seemed that this time the joke had gone too far, though.
Because of how Jonghyun acted the other day, Key’s nerves were frayed. Pacing around the living room, he pulled at his light hair and rubbed at his face and slid his socks on the floor and finally, Minho reached out and grabbed Key’s wrist, the two of them being the only people home for now.
“Sit,” Minho commanded, as he stood up and pointed to where he had been sitting.
Key obeyed wordlessly, sitting down on the cushion that was still warm from Minho’s body heat. Minho sat down on the floor and scooted so his back was against the couch, and then reached into his pocket before holding up a handful of hair ties and bobby pins to the older boy.
Not wanting to know just how Minho always knew how to make him feel better, Key let out a delighted squeal and took the hair accessories and started to get to work, combing Minho’s soft hair with his fingers. When Minho’s hair had been particularly long during the Ring Ding Dong era, he always let Key play with it whenever the shorter rapper was in a frenzied mood. Now Minho’s hair was growing out again and Key started to part it into sections, barely glancing up as someone came home.
“… Uh.” Jonghyun stood by the kitchen, a brow arched as Key went through the therapeutic routine of putting Minho’s hair in piggy tails.
“It’s your fault,” Minho said, shrugging and closing his eyes.
Key hummed in agreement as he started to braid one of the pig tails.
“No dude, that’s just weird,” Jonghyun said, before he walked into his bedroom and shut the door.
“Something’s off,” Minho murmured, scratching his jaw idly as Key pulled his bangs back.
--
Playing with Minho’s hair seemed to have done the trick because that evening at the dinner table, with Taemin giggling and playing with Minho’s pretty new hair, Key was back to his usual antics as he set the table and dished everyone’s food up.
“Yah,” he glanced over at Jonghyun, who had rudely reached across the younger in order to grab some pot stickers.
“What,” Jonghyun said around a mouthful of food.
“Wanna fuck?”
Jonghyun choked on his food, Jinki squeaked, and Taemin and Minho got up from the table so Taemin could ‘try to braid like hair like Kibummie hyung!’.
[ Wanna Give It A Chance? --->]
Series: Wanna? Part 2 of 3
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jonghyun/Key
Summary: Since Jonghyun doesn’t want to make out, surely there’s other things he would let Key do, right?
Notes: None of this is supposed to make sense.
[ Wanna Make Out?]
“Can I touch your boobs?”
A thick silence stretched in the space between Key, who was standing at the stove, and Jonghyun, who was sitting at the table.
“My what.” Jonghyun stared at Key.
“Your boobs,” Key said, like he was talking about the weather. His eyes dipped to the shirt Jonghyun was wearing; it was a black shirt with a collar so loose and low that it exposed the dip between his pec muscles, that hard line that just begged to have a mouth drag over it.
Jonghyun looked properly scandalized, as he put a palm over his chest to hide his modesty while standing up and grabbing his magazine, most likely to retreat to the living room or go put on a sweater.
Key smirked.
He was still bitter about the subway incident.
--
Jonghyun walked into his bedroom to find a rather odd scene.
Minho and Key were standing in front of Minho’s bed, the smaller rapper’s hands on the tall boy’s chest, his fingers squeezing and his palms molesting, a calculating look on his features. Jonghyun blinked, his hands moving to cover his own chest, as if it were in danger of being molested as well.
“I’m thinking about buying Minho a bra,” Key said, even though he knew Jonghyun wasn’t even going to question what was happening.
Minho just went along with it, knowing better than to be affected by Key’s quirks. Key pat Minho on the chest affectionately and pinched his cheek (Minho punched him in the shoulder) and then turned to leave.
“Jonghyun, I’ll be sure to get you a trainer bra while I’m out, since you’re not quite as developed as Minho~”
Key shut the door before Jonghyun could lob his shoe at him.
--
“What are you staring at?” Jonghyun finally put down his magazine after Key had been staring at his face for the past five minutes, and the only notion of victory Key made was the twitch in his right eye.
“Your nose,” Key said.
“What about my nose,” Jonghyun asked, his voice deadpan as he met Key’s gaze.
“Your nostrils.”
Key could see Jonghyun’s jaw clenching under his skin, “What about my nostrils.”
“Did you know they’re uneven?”
If anyone was especially worried about their outer appearance in SHINee, it was Jonghyun. He took lessons well from Key. And he exercised such practice as he moved a hand up to cover his nose, all while narrowing his eyes at Key.
“Go away.”
“But I want a better look.” Key leaned closer, practically in Jonghyun’s lap.
“No!”
“Can I lick them?”
“Why are you so weird!?” Jonghyun kicked at Key and removed his hand from his nose so all of his limbs could try and push Key off of the couch. “What did I do to deserve this!?”
Key pouted and pulled back, “Well… would you rather make out with me?”
Jonghyun grunted and got up, throwing his magazine on the coffee table and slamming the door to his room shut.
“Something’s off, here,” Jinki said, adjusting his glasses as he exited the bathroom.
“Yeah, your pants,” Key said, huffing and throwing a pillow at Jinki’s groin.
“Aiee!”
--
Key copped a feel at every opportunity. He grabbed Jonghyun’s chest, his ass, his hips, his biceps, his fingers even wandered to belt loops and the hem of the older man’s shirt. Their comeback in Japan had been delayed due to the natural disaster and they had no schedule in the meantime - and even if they managed to be wrangled onto a show of some sort, Key wasn’t holding back.
Key knew he was getting on Jonghyun’s nerves. He could feel Jonghyun shudder beneath his finger tips when he managed to scratch over an exposed hip bone, he could see the tension in those broad shoulders when his breath ghosted over Jonghyun’s ear.
Just when he was sure Jonghyun was at his breaking point, though, Key stopped.
“You give up?” Jinki blinked and looked up from the same crossword puzzle he’d been doing for weeks.
Key nodded and shrugged, humming as he separated whites from colors.
“And you’re ok with not having been able to make out with him?” Jinki pressed.
“Mhm,” Key hummed.
Jinki sat back and moved his bangs to scratch at his forehead, before shrugging and returning to his crossword puzzle. “Something’s definitely off.”
Key ignored him and made sure to put one of his red articles of clothing into Jonghyun’s white pile.
--
“What the fuck is your problem!?”
Jonghyun was standing in the tiny door that lead to the tiny laundry room, in the tiny hallway that separated that part of the dorm from the living room. He was holding his favorite white sweatshirt, which was now tinted a soft, bubblegum pink, shaking it furiously in his fist.
Key held back his laughter as he widened his eyes and tilted his head, “What?”
“I know you hate doing laundry and maybe that’s why you suck at it but come on Kibum, this was my favorite sweatshirt!”
Key scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You look good in pink, I don’t know why you’re throwing a fit.” He turned around to reach up to the cupboard and grab the box of dryer sheets, and the air left his lungs as he was pushed from behind and his gut got stabbed by the edge of the dryer.
Jonghyun’s hands were big and warm on his hips as that broad chest pressed against Key’s back, and Key stiffened, feeling the anger rolling off of the older boy’s body in waves.
“First you paw all over me,” Jonghyun said, his voice gruff and lower than Key had ever heard it. His hands slid around Key’s hips to his stomach, sliding under the younger’s t-shirt as if to make an example of his words. “You say you want to make out with me, you start touching me and teasing me.” His hands slid up further, thumbs brushing over Key’s hardening nipples, causing Key to inhale sharply. Jonghyun shifted and his lips were at the shell of Key’s ear, breathing hotly into it, his pretty teeth scraping over the flesh. “And then you just stopped.”
Jonghyun pulled away and left the laundry room, his anger still lingering and electrocuting molecules of oxygen in the air that Key was trying to inhale as the rapper straightened, elbows trembling as his hands propped himself up on the dryer. Key’s heart was hammering, his pulse was racing and as he stared down at the box of dryer sheets he had dropped, he tried to piece together what had just happened.
An hour later, still in the laundry room and holding Jonghyun’s pink tinted sweatshirt, Key still didn’t know what just happened.
--
The tables were turned and Key didn’t know what to do now. Yes, he still wanted to make out with Jonghyun. But he had wanted to make out with Jonghyun because Jonghyun hadn’t wanted to make out with him. It was just another elaborate scheme to piss off the older boy and then apologize and get cuddles after they laughed about the joke.
It seemed that this time the joke had gone too far, though.
Because of how Jonghyun acted the other day, Key’s nerves were frayed. Pacing around the living room, he pulled at his light hair and rubbed at his face and slid his socks on the floor and finally, Minho reached out and grabbed Key’s wrist, the two of them being the only people home for now.
“Sit,” Minho commanded, as he stood up and pointed to where he had been sitting.
Key obeyed wordlessly, sitting down on the cushion that was still warm from Minho’s body heat. Minho sat down on the floor and scooted so his back was against the couch, and then reached into his pocket before holding up a handful of hair ties and bobby pins to the older boy.
Not wanting to know just how Minho always knew how to make him feel better, Key let out a delighted squeal and took the hair accessories and started to get to work, combing Minho’s soft hair with his fingers. When Minho’s hair had been particularly long during the Ring Ding Dong era, he always let Key play with it whenever the shorter rapper was in a frenzied mood. Now Minho’s hair was growing out again and Key started to part it into sections, barely glancing up as someone came home.
“… Uh.” Jonghyun stood by the kitchen, a brow arched as Key went through the therapeutic routine of putting Minho’s hair in piggy tails.
“It’s your fault,” Minho said, shrugging and closing his eyes.
Key hummed in agreement as he started to braid one of the pig tails.
“No dude, that’s just weird,” Jonghyun said, before he walked into his bedroom and shut the door.
“Something’s off,” Minho murmured, scratching his jaw idly as Key pulled his bangs back.
--
Playing with Minho’s hair seemed to have done the trick because that evening at the dinner table, with Taemin giggling and playing with Minho’s pretty new hair, Key was back to his usual antics as he set the table and dished everyone’s food up.
“Yah,” he glanced over at Jonghyun, who had rudely reached across the younger in order to grab some pot stickers.
“What,” Jonghyun said around a mouthful of food.
“Wanna fuck?”
Jonghyun choked on his food, Jinki squeaked, and Taemin and Minho got up from the table so Taemin could ‘try to braid like hair like Kibummie hyung!’.
[ Wanna Give It A Chance? --->]