NCT BXB AO3 SMUTS

jeno and chenle

by: englushsummerian
language: english
wc: 4416

Summary:

“Wait,” Jeno says, noticing something when Chenle opens his mouth to curse again. Chenle pauses and stares up at him, the red of his eyes shining in the light. “Are — are your fangs out?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Jeno can see the answer. Chenle’s fangs are resting lightly against his plush bottom lip and he’s looking directly at Jeno like he’s a meal.

“Yeah,” Chenle pants. “Jeno…”

“Are you hard?”

.

“I’ll catch you at Shads at six, then?” Jisung says, mopping up the sweat from his face with his shirt then slinging it around his neck. His ears are perked up slightly and Jaemin ruffles his hair as he walks past, catching Jisung’s attention for a split second before his gaze snaps back to Jeno.

Jeno laughs. “Yeah, sure. Is everyone else coming?”

“Dunno,” Jisung says with a shrug. Every now and then Jeno catches a peek of his tail, swishing back and forth. “Maybe Renjun? Ah, you can bring Chenle along if you want?”

“If I want?” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow. “He’s your best friend.”

“He’s your boyfriend!” Jisung whines. He reaches up and scratches behind one of his ears, then sighs.  “I’m just inviting him.”

“Sure,” Jeno says. “Then I’ll ask him if he wants to come.” He turns and picks up his drink bottle off the bench and takes a swig, letting a little of the cool water drip down his chin. “I guess I’ll see you then?”

Jisung’s ears perk up a little more and his tail wags quicker and he nods. “Sure! You’ll be at the full moon, too?”

“Don’t know where else I’m gonna go,” Jeno says. “Unless they’ve suddenly developed a cure to the whole werewolf thing, anyway.”

“I’m just checking,” Jisung says, laughing. He picks up the frisbee and sticks it between his teeth, waving at Jeno one last time before bounding off across the field to chase up Jaemin, ears flopping, his tail almost a blur.

Jeno watches him for a few seconds, fondness swollen in his heart, before he makes the trek back to his dorm, summer sun warm on his skin, trying not to think of how much he must stink right now.

There are two things that happen when Jeno gets back home.

One: Chenle’s head snaps up from where he’d been playing games on his phone.

Two: he takes a deep breath and shudders.

“What?” Jeno asks, balling up his shirt and throwing it into the laundry hamper before going to walk through to their tiny kitchenette and wash his hands. 

“Were you working out?”

“I was playing frisbee.”

“Oh my god,” Chenle says. He breathes deeply again. Jeno turns the tap off and dries his hands before poking his head back through. 

Chenle is sitting on the couch, bright sunlight pooling on the cushions about a foot to the left of him, barefoot and clad in an unholy lazy combo of his ragged sweats and one of Jeno’s shirts. He has one hand resting on the armrest and the other fisted in the fabric of the couch and he’s staring at Jeno — hungry, almost.

“What?” Jeno asks again. “Am I that sweaty?”

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” Chenle says, and it comes a little choked. “But you smell really, really good.”