additional tags: hate sex, wall sex, frottage, grinding, blowjobs, face-fucking, semi-public sex
The smile dropped flat off of his face when he spotted Jumin Han.
"What," he said, the charming greetings gone.
The CEO-in-line looked Zen up and down, scrutinizing him in a way that made him bristle with irritation.
(Goosebumps broke out on his arms under the sleeves of his suit, a frisson running up his spine at the way Jumin's eyes raked down his body and back up again. He chalked both up to the irritation simmering in the back of his mind, and very deliberately thought no more of it.)
"Acceptable," Jumin said finally, breaking Zen out of his own thoughts.
"What does that mean?" he demanded, but Jumin was already turning away. "Oi, look at me when I'm talking to you - "
That was the whole night. Jumin would give Zen some look out of the corner of his eye, Zen would catch it and a bolt of irritation would shoot through him. And every time it was chased by that same shiver from before, the one that made him roll his shoulders before apologizing to whatever donor he was schmoozing with at the time.
He tried to ignore it. Tried to tell himself his blood was racing because he was so irritated at Jumin, that the heat at the back of his neck was his temper rising.
But about halfway through the night, his body got tired of his insistent denial - the shivers down his spine started running straight to his dick. Every time Jumin looked at him and frowned, almost imperceptibly but with clear disapproval, there was a stirring in his belly that made his cock throb in his suit pants, much to Zen's horror.
Eventually he had to excuse himself, ducking into one of the side rooms off the main ballroom and standing (hiding) against the wall just next to the door.
"I don't know what wire got crossed," he hissed down at the front of his pants, now visibly distended, "but you need to stop."
"Talking to yourself?" Zen launched himself away from the wall to see Jumin standing there, backlit by the chandeliers of the ballroom and casting a long shadow into the room.
"God," Zen ground out. "Are you following me?"
"You disappeared," Jumin said simply. "I was concerned."
"Bullshit," Zen spat. "You have been fucking with me all night, and I've just about had it."
"Fucking with you?" The word didn't sound quite right coming out of Jumin's mouth, like it was the first time he'd said it. For all Zen knew, it was. "How so?"
"Lurking around, giving me those looks, that snooty little look on your face - " Oh, that had been a mistake. Remembering the events of the evening with his adrenaline running hot made his cock throb harder than ever, a sudden pulse that made his breath catch in his throat with a gasp there was no way Jumin didn't hear.
"Are you alright?" Jumin didn't sound concerned. He sounded predatory.
"I'm gonna kick your ass," Zen told him flatly. He had to resolve these urges one way or another, and the other was absolutely out of the question. Violence it was.
"Do it."
"What?"
Jumin stepped into the room, just at the edge of Zen's personal space. "Do it."
"Are you serious?"
"Are you?"
He was smirking again. Zen couldn't see his face with the light behind him, but he could hear it in his voice.
"You fucking - "
Zen meant to punch him. He really did. He meant to launch himself forward, grab Jumin's collar to hold him in place, and plant a fist right in his smug face. But instead he crashed into Jumin face-first, smashing their lips together with almost bruising force.
It might as well have been choreographed. Zen pushed him back towards the wall, blindly flailing an arm out to catch the door and swing it shut, remembering at the last moment not to let it slam. The room plunged into darkness broken only by the dim safety lights overhead. Jumin's hands went around Zen's waist, pulling him in and grinding his hips in a long line against Zen's that made him swear against Jumin's mouth.
"Fuck," he hissed, biting down on Jumin's bottom lip. Jumin was as hard as he was, the pressure muffled through the layers between them but the hard line of his cock still very much present.
"No time," Jumin said, and Zen could feel his smirk against his mouth, and he growled in irritation before pinning Jumin against the wall with his hips, driving their cocks together and making Jumin bite off a moan before it fully escaped. He was going to ruin the other man, make him come in his pants and have to either walk around the party like that or hide in this room until everyone left. His disappearance would be a news piece overnight and his PR team would be scrambling to explain his absence, which he would never admit the actual reason for.
He just had to avoid coming in his own pants, first.
Jumin was panting against his ear, little whiny needy sounds that drove Zen's arousal higher, burying his hands in Jumin's hair as he tilted his hips upward, catching a different angle that made Jumin catch his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle the sound that tried to escape.
The next moment he was slapping at Zen's shoulders, forcing him back and away from the wall.
"Wh - you started this," Zen protested. "You don't get to just - "
"Technically you kissed me," Jumin pointed out.
"That was not a - " Zen fell silent as Jumin sank to his knees, bracketed between Zen and the wall behind him. Even in the low light Zen could see the flush in his cheeks, the almost expectant way he looked up at him. It made his head swim a little and he froze in place long enough that Jumin reached out and hooked two fingers into his belt.
"We don't have all day," he muttered, working to unbuckle Zen's belt.
"Fuck off," Zen muttered, slapping Jumin's hands away and unfastening the buckle himself. He shoved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, making his cock spring free and a sigh of relief slip past his lips.
Zen wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, guiding him forward, and Zen noticed fleetingly how long his fingers were before Jumin's mouth enveloped the head of his cock and thought became too difficult to bother with.
Jumin set a pace almost immediately, bobbing his head along the length of Zen's cock and taking a little more in each time until Zen could feel it nudging the back of his throat. If this bothered Jumin he gave no indication, simply continuing his pace with his hand wrapped around the base of Zen's cock.
Zen sank his fingers back into Jumin's hair, stopping his motions, and Zen saw the way his eyes flicked up in confusion as he started to pull off, thinking Zen wanted him to stop. But Zen followed his head back, keeping his cock in Jumin's mouth, and Jumin made a noise in the back of his throat as he realized Zen's intentions.
Zen started fucking Jumin's mouth, holding his head still and braced against the wall as his hips worked back and forth. If Zen closed his eyes and tipped his head back, he could pretend it was literally anyone other than Jumin, but he found that wasn't as satisfying. Fantasy replacements didn't compare to the sight of Jumin Han on his knees, taking Zen's cock almost to the hilt, letting Zen use his face as he worked his own dick out of his pants.
He laid one hand against Zen's thigh as the other started working along his shaft, his eyes drifting shut. The small noises he made were muffled by Zen's dick in his mouth, and Zen's fingers tightened in his hair as his hips stuttered against Jumin's face.
Jumin's hand stopped, his eyes screwing up as the head of Zen's cock nudged a little farther than he was used to. Zen held it there for just a moment, until he felt Jumin's throat start working against the intrusion, and pulled back enough to give Jumin space to breathe. Jumin coughed, trying to muffle it with his shoulder, and Zen pushed his cock back against Jumin's lips.
To his surprise, Jumin let him back in readily, even leaning forward to meet Zen's initial thrust before Zen pushed him back against the wall. He pinned Jumin's head there, thrusting into his mouth in a steady rhythm until he felt the coil in his belly threatening to snap.
He had every intention of pulling out and ruining Jumin's shirt, since his plan of making Jumin come in his pants had been thwarted, but Jumin's hands flew up to wrap around the backs of Zen's thighs and hold him in place, fingertips digging into his skin.
The realization sent a shock of heat through him that pushed him over the edge, doubling over and bracing one arm against the wall as he shuddered through his climax, straight down Jumin's throat.
One of Jumin's hands disappeared back between his legs, working his cock furiously as he swallowed Zen down, until he moaned low in the back of his throat and came into his hand.
Zen pulled away, shivering in the sudden cold, and turned his back on Jumin as he put himself back together. When he turned back around Jumin was similarly re-dressed, disposing of a handkerchief in a nearby wastebasket.
"Damn," Zen said. "I was hoping you'd ruined your pants," he explained in response to Jumin's lifted eyebrow.
"Sorry to disappoint," Jumin said mildly, though not without an edge to the words.
"Will you knock it the fuck off now?"
Jumin just shrugged and Zen felt another surge of irritation, but he just sighed and shook his head. It was easier to shrug off now, for reasons he refused to contemplate.
He did, however, get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight of Jumin's hair when he opened the door. Let's see PR get him out of that one, he thought smugly, and slipped out of the room once Jumin had already disappeared into the crowd.
