"Come on," Taemin murmurs. He has that look in his eyes again. That look he gives the polished wood floor of their studio before spreading his legs all over it and Jonghyun isn't going to lie. He wants to be that floor.
The crowd parts as they walk closer to the DJ, their path wider and wider with every swing of Taemin's hips. His walk is single minded and Jonghyun fights to keep up, his throat going dry. Jinki and Kibum would kill him if they knew where he was, what he was doing, but fuck if he hasn't wanted this since Taemin turned eighteen. And everything is perfect. The song is sick and heavy, deep drums throbbing through the air, trapping their bodies in between, pushing them together.
Taemin catches the hitch in Jonghyun's body before it starts moving and he smiles. "Do it like this," his lips say, his body moving in slow waves like they have all the time in the world and there isn't a single thing he could imagine doing except this. Nothing except letting the beat settle in his hips and move them: slow, hungry, dirty. Jonghyun doesn't even have to tell him to turn around.
He hums and throws his head back when Jonghyun presses up against his ass and they begin moving in tandem, hips grinding and bodies pushing. Sweat paints his neck, making it gleam and Jonghyun darts his tongue out for a long taste. Taemin's hand comes up in his hair, holding him in place.
"Just like this, just like this," he keeps saying, like he's hypnotized and Jonghyun goes with it, an arm around Taemin's waist and his body moving slow and shameless.
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