Browser History (1/1)
Title: Browser History
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 2,025
Summary: Jinki learns of a new kink. ( Three's A Crowd 'verse)
This has been kicking around on my hard drive for a while. I'm quite fond of OnTae's relationship in this 'verse.
B R O W S E R H I S T O R Y
~DAD SHOWERS YOUNG TWINK WITH GOLDEN AFFECTION~
Jinki snorts. He's checking the browser history on his computer while Taemin is in the shower, scrolling down to the tell-tale urls of pornographic websites, the free streaming-video sites that Taemin clicks onto when he's bored and alone in Japanese hotel rooms. It's become a sort of shorthand between them; Taemin knows that Jinki will check up on him later, and emboldened by his privacy and the freedom of choice, Taemin leaves a link trail of his varying curiosities for Jinki to peruse at his leisure.
This is the sixth pissing video that Jinki has found. If it's once or twice, Jinki won't bring it up; there are simple curiosities about what a little person looks like naked, or a misleading thumbnail, but six videos of the same thing in quick succession is seeking it out, searching a tag, clicking related videos. Jinki likes the mental image that this brings him, of Taemin in a dimly-lit hotel room with Jinki's laptop perched on his knees as he palms the front of his sweats and types "pissing" into the search bar. He probably blushed as he thought of Jinki now, clicking through his browser history to find that Taemin's watched several rather racy videos of some Japanese dyed-blond twink with his mouth open for an off-camera dick ready to piss in it.
Jinki lets one of the videos buffer - it's only five minutes long, but five minutes is more than enough to get Taemin talking. And that's really all Jinki needs.
Taemin comes out of the bathroom still dripping wet, a towel draped over his head but not wrapped. He starts to rifle through the clothes he hasn't unpacked from his suitcase, but Jinki gestures and says, "Don't bother. Come over here."
The others are out drinking, celebrating their first night back in Korea after an extended absence. It was too easy to make excuses - Jinki was tired, and Taemin had a headache, the kind he gets from too much recycled air and isn't helped by anything but sleep. Jonghyun eyed the both of them knowingly, but in his usual loud and assertive way, Jonghyun insisted that Minho and Key come drinking, go dancing, get hammered. Before stepping out the door, Jonghyun promised to call Jinki's phone when they were leaving the bar. It gives Jinki a few hours to appreciate Taemin properly, finally some real privacy after the hectic constantly on-top-of-one-another pace of Japan.
Taemin's skin is shower-warm, and he smells like Key's fruity soap. Jinki doesn't let him keep the towel, and pulls Taemin damp and naked onto his lap. Taemin is distracted by Jinki's lips for a while, the pull of teeth and the flush that heats his body the moment tongues touch. He doesn't notice the tab open on the laptop until Jinki guides him to twist around, to lay between Jinki's knees with his head against Jinki's collarbone and the firm press of Jinki's growing erection against his spine. When he sees the caps-lock bad-joke file name, Taemin turns to bury his face in Jinki's armpit, mumbling, embarrassed, "I didn't think you'd pick that one."
"You like it, don't you?" Jinki asks.
Reluctantly, Taemin whispers, "Yes."
"Watch it with me. I want to see what you like."
Taemin sighs as Jinki's fingers creep slowly down his torso, palming him without much preamble. Jinki drizzles a little lubricant over his hand, and fists Taemin tightly until he's properly hard. When Taemin finally stops playing shy, when the greed for pleasure outweighs his instinct to be demure, he lets his knees fall open and starts to move his hips along with the slow rhythm of Jinki's hand.
"Press play for me," Jinki says.
Obediently, Taemin taps the spacebar, and the video fades in. It's the same nondescript sort of basement common to BDSM videos, except that it's covered in plastic tarp like a scene from a horror movie. Centre frame, a young boy is tied with his hands behind his back, balanced on his knees and toes. Another actor joins him, an older man with a short haircut and a pair of goggles that obscure the upper part of his face. Taemin's cock twitches in anticipation.
The goggle guy is meaner than Jinki generally likes to be. He slaps and calls the blond several rude names, and pinches and twists his nipples roughly. He spits into the boy's open mouth and Taemin makes a soft sound at that, quiet and needing.
"You like that?" Jinki asks. Taemin doesn't answer, never does at first, but he turns his head in wide-eyed protest when Jinki takes his hand away. Jinki spits onto his palm, and watches Taemin's face reflected on the dark part of the laptop screen. "Do you?"
Slowly, shyly, Taemin nods his head. Jinki rewards his honesty with the return of his hand, saliva and flavoured lube sliding down Taemin's length.
The video lapses into typical preview fare: a few badly-transitioned clips of the goggle guy spanking and bullying the blond, a tease of a handjob. Despite the poor quality of the visuals, Jinki knows why Taemin liked this particular link to get off: the sound is surprisingly sharp. Taemin holds in his own sounds to hear it, and the audible wet squeeze of the handjob onscreen and Jinki's matching pace have Taemin squirming between Jinki's thighs.
At the four minute mark, the video transitions to the scene from the thumbnail, the part Taemin followed the link to see. The blond is tied differently than the frame before, his hands strung up overhead to leave the whole expanse of his chest vulnerable to the goggle guy's whim. His nipples are clamped, and he's been splattered with red candle wax along the inside of his thighs.
"You'd look good like that," Jinki croons, pressing his lips behind Taemin's ear, the soft dip where his jaw meets.
Taemin makes a quiet, uncommitted sound. His face is turned to the ceiling as he concentrates on rocking his hips against Jinki's slow-moving hand. Jinki squeezes his index finger and thumb around the base of Taemin's erection, hard enough that Taemin opens his eyes with a whine. "Pay attention," Jinki chides. He juts his chin toward the laptop. Swallowing heavily, Taemin focuses on the video just as the goggle guy opens his jeans to free his cock.
Jinki watches Taemin's face, rather than the video, as the goggle guy releases his bladder with a sigh. He aims for the twink's cheek like a target, and Taemin's eyes go wide, and his lips round into a little o. The camera shows a closeup of the blond, piss dripping from his face, and Taemin confesses breathlessly, unprompted, "Oh god, hyung, I want you to do that to me. Want you to... in my mouth, on my face."
Jinki groans. Now that Taemin has asked for it in words, now that he knows Taemin really, really wants it, he lets himself visualize: Taemin blinking and licking his lips, getting hot and bothered, hands pressed between his thighs as Jinki's piss drips down his chin.
The video is over rather abruptly, the money shot over and done. Taemin pushes the laptop away with his foot and almost sobs in relief when Jinki hikes him up to make enough room to open his fly. Jinki drizzles more lube into his palm, and he quickly slicks his erection before guiding it to the dark heat of Taemin's hole.
"You're a dirty brat," Jinki whispers hoarsely. Taemin is unstretched, tight enough that the first push is slow and painful. Jinki works two lubed fingers in alongside his cock, more for his own benefit than Taemin's, stretching him wide open until Taemin is whining high-pitched and loud as he scrabbles for the headboard to hold onto.
It's been weeks since they've been able to properly touch each other. In Japan, there's opportunity for stolen kisses and sometimes, if they're lucky, a rushed handjob while someone showers. But the ache never really goes away, not until they're alone and at home, and Jinki is biting his tongue at the heat of Taemin's body as he presses into him. There will be time for Jinki to torture Taemin properly later; now he only wants the edge off.
"Aegi, open up for me," Jinki says, coaxing. With a grunt, Taemin hitches his leg up and spreads himself open. Jinki stills, letting Taemin and gravity do the work until he's all the way in, and after a few shallow thrusts there's enough slide to make the constriction around Jinki's cock feel pleasant instead of too-tight.
"Fucking hell, Taemin," Jinki hisses. He nips harshly at Taemin's jaw, and then their mouths meet for a kiss that distracts the both of them from the aching press of Jinki's hips.
Jinki thrusts rather carelessly, too fast for Taemin to do anything but lock his elbows and brace himself against the headboard. He slips, gasping, and Jinki catches Taemin behind the knees and continues at this angle, holding Taemin's legs butterflied open wide, pressing impossibly deep. Taemin's muscles strain to keep his balance, tense legs and arms and hole, squeezing hard. Jinki feels almost suffocated by the constriction and the heat. His orgasm hits him uncomfortably quick; Jinki hugs all of Taemin to his chest as he jerks his hips desperately and spills inside of him.
After a minute of panting, Jinki carefully slips out of Taemin. Taemin whines at the change in pressure, and again when Jinki rolls him off onto the mattress. Taemin hugs a pillow to his chest and watches as Jinki wipes the mess away and stands up.
"Hyung," Taemin whispers, confused in that pretty, blinking sort of way he gets when he's too aroused to think properly. "Hyung, what are you doing? I haven't-"
"I know you haven't," Jinki says, teasing a little. "We have a few hours, aegi. Don't you want to play a little more?"
"But hyung, you already-"
"Of course I came, aegi. You're too much for me," Jinki says. He lets a note of praise come into his voice because he knows how much Taemin craves it, how an honest compliment fills him up and makes him feel worthy of Jinki's attention. "I'm not done with you, aegi. Unless you want me to be done?"
Taemin peers over the edge of the pillowcase, eyes wide and scandalized. He shakes his head.
"What was that? You're done?"
"No," Taemin blurts. "Hyung, I'm not done! Please, touch me. I'm not done."
"Thought not. Wait there."
Taemin covers his face with the pillow and stretches out, his body making a smooth horizontal line except for his erection, pointing lewdly upward, flushed and ready for attention. The sight makes Jinki smile; Taemin is being unusually shameless. He wonders how long Taemin had been holding onto that little secret, how long he'd been clearing his browser history in red-faced shame at the thought of Jinki stumbling across the pissing links.
Jinki goes over to his closet and wades through the hanging clothes and stacked shoeboxes to get to the duffel bag in the back. He hefts it over his shoulder and brings it to the bed, dropping it heavily in front of Taemin's stretched legs. At the sound of the zipper, Taemin sits up and visibly swallows.
"I'm not going to piss on you," Jinki says.
Taemin lets out a breath, but it's hard to tell whether in relief or disappointment.
"At least, not today," Jinki continues, and Taemin is once again all ears. "Today we have something else to discuss."
"What is it, hyung?" Taemin whispers. He bends his knees and his hips lift off the mattress thoughtlessly, rutting against the air.
"Do you trust me?"
Taemin doesn't hesitate to answer, "Yes, hyung."
Jinki uncoils a length of rope from the bottom of the bag, and gestures for Taemin to present himself. Seamlessly, Taemin rises to balance lightly on his knees, and holds his arms out, wrists together.
"Love you, aegi," Jinki says, and starts the first knot.
끝.
wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 2,025
Summary: Jinki learns of a new kink. ( Three's A Crowd 'verse)
This has been kicking around on my hard drive for a while. I'm quite fond of OnTae's relationship in this 'verse.
B R O W S E R H I S T O R Y
~DAD SHOWERS YOUNG TWINK WITH GOLDEN AFFECTION~
Jinki snorts. He's checking the browser history on his computer while Taemin is in the shower, scrolling down to the tell-tale urls of pornographic websites, the free streaming-video sites that Taemin clicks onto when he's bored and alone in Japanese hotel rooms. It's become a sort of shorthand between them; Taemin knows that Jinki will check up on him later, and emboldened by his privacy and the freedom of choice, Taemin leaves a link trail of his varying curiosities for Jinki to peruse at his leisure.
This is the sixth pissing video that Jinki has found. If it's once or twice, Jinki won't bring it up; there are simple curiosities about what a little person looks like naked, or a misleading thumbnail, but six videos of the same thing in quick succession is seeking it out, searching a tag, clicking related videos. Jinki likes the mental image that this brings him, of Taemin in a dimly-lit hotel room with Jinki's laptop perched on his knees as he palms the front of his sweats and types "pissing" into the search bar. He probably blushed as he thought of Jinki now, clicking through his browser history to find that Taemin's watched several rather racy videos of some Japanese dyed-blond twink with his mouth open for an off-camera dick ready to piss in it.
Jinki lets one of the videos buffer - it's only five minutes long, but five minutes is more than enough to get Taemin talking. And that's really all Jinki needs.
Taemin comes out of the bathroom still dripping wet, a towel draped over his head but not wrapped. He starts to rifle through the clothes he hasn't unpacked from his suitcase, but Jinki gestures and says, "Don't bother. Come over here."
The others are out drinking, celebrating their first night back in Korea after an extended absence. It was too easy to make excuses - Jinki was tired, and Taemin had a headache, the kind he gets from too much recycled air and isn't helped by anything but sleep. Jonghyun eyed the both of them knowingly, but in his usual loud and assertive way, Jonghyun insisted that Minho and Key come drinking, go dancing, get hammered. Before stepping out the door, Jonghyun promised to call Jinki's phone when they were leaving the bar. It gives Jinki a few hours to appreciate Taemin properly, finally some real privacy after the hectic constantly on-top-of-one-another pace of Japan.
Taemin's skin is shower-warm, and he smells like Key's fruity soap. Jinki doesn't let him keep the towel, and pulls Taemin damp and naked onto his lap. Taemin is distracted by Jinki's lips for a while, the pull of teeth and the flush that heats his body the moment tongues touch. He doesn't notice the tab open on the laptop until Jinki guides him to twist around, to lay between Jinki's knees with his head against Jinki's collarbone and the firm press of Jinki's growing erection against his spine. When he sees the caps-lock bad-joke file name, Taemin turns to bury his face in Jinki's armpit, mumbling, embarrassed, "I didn't think you'd pick that one."
"You like it, don't you?" Jinki asks.
Reluctantly, Taemin whispers, "Yes."
"Watch it with me. I want to see what you like."
Taemin sighs as Jinki's fingers creep slowly down his torso, palming him without much preamble. Jinki drizzles a little lubricant over his hand, and fists Taemin tightly until he's properly hard. When Taemin finally stops playing shy, when the greed for pleasure outweighs his instinct to be demure, he lets his knees fall open and starts to move his hips along with the slow rhythm of Jinki's hand.
"Press play for me," Jinki says.
Obediently, Taemin taps the spacebar, and the video fades in. It's the same nondescript sort of basement common to BDSM videos, except that it's covered in plastic tarp like a scene from a horror movie. Centre frame, a young boy is tied with his hands behind his back, balanced on his knees and toes. Another actor joins him, an older man with a short haircut and a pair of goggles that obscure the upper part of his face. Taemin's cock twitches in anticipation.
The goggle guy is meaner than Jinki generally likes to be. He slaps and calls the blond several rude names, and pinches and twists his nipples roughly. He spits into the boy's open mouth and Taemin makes a soft sound at that, quiet and needing.
"You like that?" Jinki asks. Taemin doesn't answer, never does at first, but he turns his head in wide-eyed protest when Jinki takes his hand away. Jinki spits onto his palm, and watches Taemin's face reflected on the dark part of the laptop screen. "Do you?"
Slowly, shyly, Taemin nods his head. Jinki rewards his honesty with the return of his hand, saliva and flavoured lube sliding down Taemin's length.
The video lapses into typical preview fare: a few badly-transitioned clips of the goggle guy spanking and bullying the blond, a tease of a handjob. Despite the poor quality of the visuals, Jinki knows why Taemin liked this particular link to get off: the sound is surprisingly sharp. Taemin holds in his own sounds to hear it, and the audible wet squeeze of the handjob onscreen and Jinki's matching pace have Taemin squirming between Jinki's thighs.
At the four minute mark, the video transitions to the scene from the thumbnail, the part Taemin followed the link to see. The blond is tied differently than the frame before, his hands strung up overhead to leave the whole expanse of his chest vulnerable to the goggle guy's whim. His nipples are clamped, and he's been splattered with red candle wax along the inside of his thighs.
"You'd look good like that," Jinki croons, pressing his lips behind Taemin's ear, the soft dip where his jaw meets.
Taemin makes a quiet, uncommitted sound. His face is turned to the ceiling as he concentrates on rocking his hips against Jinki's slow-moving hand. Jinki squeezes his index finger and thumb around the base of Taemin's erection, hard enough that Taemin opens his eyes with a whine. "Pay attention," Jinki chides. He juts his chin toward the laptop. Swallowing heavily, Taemin focuses on the video just as the goggle guy opens his jeans to free his cock.
Jinki watches Taemin's face, rather than the video, as the goggle guy releases his bladder with a sigh. He aims for the twink's cheek like a target, and Taemin's eyes go wide, and his lips round into a little o. The camera shows a closeup of the blond, piss dripping from his face, and Taemin confesses breathlessly, unprompted, "Oh god, hyung, I want you to do that to me. Want you to... in my mouth, on my face."
Jinki groans. Now that Taemin has asked for it in words, now that he knows Taemin really, really wants it, he lets himself visualize: Taemin blinking and licking his lips, getting hot and bothered, hands pressed between his thighs as Jinki's piss drips down his chin.
The video is over rather abruptly, the money shot over and done. Taemin pushes the laptop away with his foot and almost sobs in relief when Jinki hikes him up to make enough room to open his fly. Jinki drizzles more lube into his palm, and he quickly slicks his erection before guiding it to the dark heat of Taemin's hole.
"You're a dirty brat," Jinki whispers hoarsely. Taemin is unstretched, tight enough that the first push is slow and painful. Jinki works two lubed fingers in alongside his cock, more for his own benefit than Taemin's, stretching him wide open until Taemin is whining high-pitched and loud as he scrabbles for the headboard to hold onto.
It's been weeks since they've been able to properly touch each other. In Japan, there's opportunity for stolen kisses and sometimes, if they're lucky, a rushed handjob while someone showers. But the ache never really goes away, not until they're alone and at home, and Jinki is biting his tongue at the heat of Taemin's body as he presses into him. There will be time for Jinki to torture Taemin properly later; now he only wants the edge off.
"Aegi, open up for me," Jinki says, coaxing. With a grunt, Taemin hitches his leg up and spreads himself open. Jinki stills, letting Taemin and gravity do the work until he's all the way in, and after a few shallow thrusts there's enough slide to make the constriction around Jinki's cock feel pleasant instead of too-tight.
"Fucking hell, Taemin," Jinki hisses. He nips harshly at Taemin's jaw, and then their mouths meet for a kiss that distracts the both of them from the aching press of Jinki's hips.
Jinki thrusts rather carelessly, too fast for Taemin to do anything but lock his elbows and brace himself against the headboard. He slips, gasping, and Jinki catches Taemin behind the knees and continues at this angle, holding Taemin's legs butterflied open wide, pressing impossibly deep. Taemin's muscles strain to keep his balance, tense legs and arms and hole, squeezing hard. Jinki feels almost suffocated by the constriction and the heat. His orgasm hits him uncomfortably quick; Jinki hugs all of Taemin to his chest as he jerks his hips desperately and spills inside of him.
After a minute of panting, Jinki carefully slips out of Taemin. Taemin whines at the change in pressure, and again when Jinki rolls him off onto the mattress. Taemin hugs a pillow to his chest and watches as Jinki wipes the mess away and stands up.
"Hyung," Taemin whispers, confused in that pretty, blinking sort of way he gets when he's too aroused to think properly. "Hyung, what are you doing? I haven't-"
"I know you haven't," Jinki says, teasing a little. "We have a few hours, aegi. Don't you want to play a little more?"
"But hyung, you already-"
"Of course I came, aegi. You're too much for me," Jinki says. He lets a note of praise come into his voice because he knows how much Taemin craves it, how an honest compliment fills him up and makes him feel worthy of Jinki's attention. "I'm not done with you, aegi. Unless you want me to be done?"
Taemin peers over the edge of the pillowcase, eyes wide and scandalized. He shakes his head.
"What was that? You're done?"
"No," Taemin blurts. "Hyung, I'm not done! Please, touch me. I'm not done."
"Thought not. Wait there."
Taemin covers his face with the pillow and stretches out, his body making a smooth horizontal line except for his erection, pointing lewdly upward, flushed and ready for attention. The sight makes Jinki smile; Taemin is being unusually shameless. He wonders how long Taemin had been holding onto that little secret, how long he'd been clearing his browser history in red-faced shame at the thought of Jinki stumbling across the pissing links.
Jinki goes over to his closet and wades through the hanging clothes and stacked shoeboxes to get to the duffel bag in the back. He hefts it over his shoulder and brings it to the bed, dropping it heavily in front of Taemin's stretched legs. At the sound of the zipper, Taemin sits up and visibly swallows.
"I'm not going to piss on you," Jinki says.
Taemin lets out a breath, but it's hard to tell whether in relief or disappointment.
"At least, not today," Jinki continues, and Taemin is once again all ears. "Today we have something else to discuss."
"What is it, hyung?" Taemin whispers. He bends his knees and his hips lift off the mattress thoughtlessly, rutting against the air.
"Do you trust me?"
Taemin doesn't hesitate to answer, "Yes, hyung."
Jinki uncoils a length of rope from the bottom of the bag, and gestures for Taemin to present himself. Seamlessly, Taemin rises to balance lightly on his knees, and holds his arms out, wrists together.
"Love you, aegi," Jinki says, and starts the first knot.
끝.
wynnetimate's master list.