[l.m x l.dh] [stalker au]
ೃ⁀➷ in which mark, a transfer student,
finds himself in more trouble than
he thought after ignoring advice and
pursuing the school's most hated boy
↷ mature themes
━ ma...
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Jaemin lay back on his bed with a loud sigh after school, lazily kicking his shoes off which clattered to the floorboards in quick succession. The ceiling staring back at him had one long line extending from a certain point near the corner running towards the centre — a simple crack through the paint that he'd never even bothered to bring up in years. He hadn't much time to contemplate it though before the scene was interrupted by a head of fluffy, brown hair. Renjun hovered over him, straddling his waist and stabilising his position with his hands on the younger's chest.
They didn't tend to talk to each other much anymore. At the start of their relationship a couple of years ago, it was always non-stop chatter and unbridled excitement from two teenagers who still held the world in their eyes. But they'd been fifteen or so then, and they were eighteen now. The setting around them that changed each day was translated more and more roughly, and childhoods weren't meant to last forever.
The older of the pair leaned down and connected their lips without any hesitance, cupping the boy's cheeks with adoration and taking his breath away with each sweep of his tongue over Jaemin's mouth.
They didn't really need the same fervour they'd once held before, just like a married couple didn't need to go on dates every Friday to express their love and check in on one another. They may not have spoken through words anymore, but their bodies had always been far better at talking than their mouths had.
Jaemin didn't regret a single thing he did — not dating Renjun, not cheating with Jeno, not ruining innocent lives. His parents weren't particularly aware of his destructive behaviour, but they weren't exactly oblivious either...A part of them knew that the teachers were awkwardly clearing their throats around the subject of their son.
Renjun's breathing was picking up against his neck where the smaller never failed to suck bruises into his skin. He blankly stared up at that same crack in the ceiling, massaging his lover's hips absentmindedly as he did so. His heart didn't skip beats anymore, his body didn't heat up like it once had...and it was his own fault for abusing those things. Sometimes, only occasionally, Jeno was able to fuck some feelings into his depressed and sour state, but it wasn't very often. And his beautiful boyfriend was still able to flick him on like a light switch if he was willing to put in some effort.
Why was he so bored?
He was mildly aware of his jeans getting unbuttoned, and Renjun's soft hands sparking some embers in the pit of his stomach...yet he was still focused on the long, meandering split in the paint. I should ask Mum for a bucket of paint, he thought listlessly, moaning weakly as his boyfriend jerked him off. His fingers gently trailed down to weave through his pretty, cocoa locks as the boy lowered himself down to start sucking.
He remembered the first day he'd met this Chinese stunner. It was at school, and it was long before the darkness shrouding their mid-teen years had developed. They were stupid, young kids with nothing to prove yet nothing to lose. He thought Renjun was so fucking hot, even though he'd assumed himself to be straight all along.
