umeboshi_heart (umeboshi_heart) wrote,

[fic] Legs, Jeans and Hotdogs

Title: Legs, Jeans and Hotdogs
Genre: Smut, PWP
Rating: R
Warning: Nasty!Min (is that even a warning?)
Summary: People always fuss about Changmin’s legs, while the guy himself has an obsession of his own.

A/N: Training my smut making skill. I always think of it as my weak point. :(

Legs, Jeans and Hotdogs

Jaejoong has issues about his legs. He rarely shows them to people, not to mention camera, and even in the most suitable occasion like sauna variety show he had purposely hidden them under a piece of towel and ridiculous tights and made it too obvious that he indeed has a problem with self-esteem.

Interestingly, people fuss about my legs instead. Fangirls adore my long and slender legs and squeal about wanting to gnaw them like cannibals or worse fantasizing me wrapping my legs around their waists. I wouldn’t mind really, if only they didn’t pour those hormonal surges into fanfictions sprinkled over the internet about me being a ‘fragile’ underage bitch that acts innocent but actually very eager about my member’s cocks and likes to stutter p-p-p-p-please and s-s-s-stop and h-h-h-h-h-hyung when my members rip my virginity because Jailbait!Changmin plus forced sex equals major turn on. Well I jerked off once reading a fivesome one but that’s not the point.

“Hmm… Changmin-ah, with buttons or without buttons?”

“With buttons.” So I can pluck them off one by one.

“Blue or red?”


The point is, I rarely find a detail observation, scientifically trust-able report or Ninja photo of Jaejoong’s legs. Not that I need it, but it intrigues me to know whether there’s a fan who shares the same obsession as mine.

“Okay, stop looking.”

“Hyung, I’m here to look and comment on those clothes.”

Jaejoong rarely shows his legs, even in front of the members. Shorts are his enemy aside from the end-of-month acne and cheap razor. Few occasions where I can see his legs are when he subconsciously lifts the end of his trousers to scratch the itchy bug bites along his calf while watching TV or when we change clothes in the same room during concerts or photoshoots, and depressingly, that time I could only do less than glancing before he noticed my curiosity and immediately hid those milk-colored pair of heaven.

Unless I have this once in a million opportunity, like now, to accompany him in the fitting room when he shops for clothes (which may take centuries, considering a petty shopaholic he is), because then I’d have an unarguable reason to stare at him.

But yeah, he’s being a tease (in my point of view at least), he just tried those expensive-for-nothing thin tanks, flexing his well-trained muscles along the process, showing me the navel ring and the band of his low-riding brief and all, but now that it reaches the part when he should pull off his old pair of jeans to try some new ones, he chickens out.

I mean, how could he?? Seriously I feel like watching an amateur striptease.

And it’s damn hot.

Frankly speaking, he’s not the one who has something under his pants that ought to be neatly hidden at the moment. What can I say? This fitting room is quite big and comfortable, and has real door without bottom space instead of insecure curtain. And the last time I checked no one was queuing for this room.

“Why don’t you wait outside? I’ll call you when I’m finished.” He huffs the bangs in front of his face and leans against the mirror wall, looking hesitated. The new jeans is around his arms, untried, still with the price tag. So far he’s been trying on tops, tops and tops.

“My legs are sore, Hyung… we’ve been here for too long. I need chair.” I reason, wiggling against the square seat attached to the wall where I’m sitting at across him.

“There’s a chair outside…“

“Yeah, quite far, and I should walk here again each time you finish put on something, no thanks.”

Jaejoong nibbles his lower lip. Then he unhooks the buckle of his jeans, reluctantly, and tugs down his zipper, only to stop at the half-length of it and zip it back again.

I scream a big, loud FUCK-IT-ALL inside my head.

“Why are you acting like a girl? Hurry up and try those jeans.” My impatience begins to be obviously shown. The last time I watched him fitting a year ago he hadn’t become this difficult, though I hadn’t become this hard either that time. Hormones.

He blushes and whines, “Changmin, you know I don’t like people to see my legs!”

“Come on Hyung, it’s not like I’ve never seen your legs, I’ve seen you butt naked anyway, we all have.”

I know his legs, very well, even the number of dark spots and pattern of the hair-growth there. I’ve memorized the shape of his toe nails, his ankle-knee-knee-waist ratio, the shape of his calf muscles and the not-so-well-defined veins over the back of his feet. I know the exact starting point where the skin turns pinkish from snow-white and vice versa, and maybe that’s because I’ve observed more than necessary.

You know, the harder you get it, the more you want it… or in my case, the harder I get it, the harder I get.

But still, honestly I don’t see the importance of keeping the legs hidden when we’ve all seen them, especially Yoochun, because only that grease ball gets a privilege to see Jaejoong’s legs deliberately though only when he fucks him.

While me? I’m always a left-out. Jaejoong thinks I’m a pure white silk and porn videos are enough to make my penis jumps out and cheers national anthem.

“Okay, I won’t look at you. See? I’ll be concentrating on Gardening Mama I’ve just downloaded.” I show Jaejoong the colorful display of my iPod application and (pretend to) be busy with it.

He sighs, and looks down to his zipper, tugging it down with lower lip jutting out.

My crotch twitches as I watch him from my extra-wide field of vision.

“Wait, this must be too big for me. Should go get the smaller one…” He concludes unreasonably and zips his pants again.


“Hyung, try that first while you’re here, if that’s too big I’ll take the smaller one.” I fist my iPod hard, hoping my tone isn’t dripping with too much horniness.

He frowns.

Then, as if not having a responsibility about something, he slurs, “Oh, I remember now, Yoochun had just bought me some pants last week. I haven’t even tried them. I think I don’t need pants at the moment.”

My jaw drops wide as he turns the door lock open.

Na-ah, no, he won’t get away with this.

“No.” I swat his hand from the door knob and lock the door again.

“… huh?”

“You’re not gonna leave, Hyung. Not until you pull off those pants and show me your legs.”

“W-w-what??” He shrieks. Okay maybe I sounded a bit like a psycho but I didn’t mean it really.

But I’ve said it. Now there’s no turning back.

“Do like I said and after this I’ll jerk off by myself, or act difficult and turn me on even more so I’ll have to force you and it won’t end with just me jerking off.”

“Dongsaeng!” He snaps in shock at my sudden outburst, but still maintaining his voice to be only whisper. “Do you realize what mf-- ”

I cut his line with my palm. “You choose the second option, don’t you.”

In normal situation Jaejoong is stronger than me, but after I slam a fist onto his crotch hard, it’s no longer a normal situation. He can’t even finish his painful groan as I muffle his face with the jeans he’s holding, and with a bit of maneuver, making him lying helpless on the floor is easier than twirling a baby’s finger.

I climb atop of him and pin his wrists over his head, having his stomach tenses under my ass and chest heaves against my crotch. He’s still in too much pain to move, not even try to yank his wrists away, and so I lure some seconds to watch him grimacing – eyes shut, glistening drop from the corner of his eyes, flushed and sweaty forehead, defining veins. I don’t know what I’m feeling, whether the sight of him like that actually gives me a guilt, pity or hard on, but the way he’s gapping like a dead fish is definitely priceless.

I brush the shiny, brown-colored bangs aside, and wipe every trickle of sweat with my fingertips, while mouthing a voiceless ‘sorry’.


In this situation most people will yell for help or struggle for their life, at least they’ll waste no time to stare back with questioning eyes like what he’s doing. But Jaejoong loves me too much, he loves me too much to even shout me curses, after all I’ve been a very good dongsaeng. Seriously, even his voice just now still sounded so gentle and pleasant. No matter how much pain I bring him, as long as I can turn it into pleasure in the end, he’ll love me again.

He shivers, but apparently decides to keep silent rather than putting the group’s reputation in line by making a scene in this public place (or could it be because he actually enjoys this?), so I lean forward and bring my face onto the sweating neck, nuzzling it with the tip of my nose and exhale the skin under his jaw. My kisses leave smacking sounds; and his hips jerks upward at the last one, as I placed it right on one of his nipples.

God bless the freaking tight and thin tanks.

“Sorry Hyung, I didn’t mean to hurt you…” I crawl down, inch by inch, until his half-opened zipper, the culprit that tortured me earlier, rubs my ass. His arms stayed limp over his head even after being released.

“I just wanted you so bad and you weren’t helping…” I crawl another inch down and begin grinding him softly, swinging my ass back and forth while stroking the sides of his torso, getting him used to this.

I assume that only when he’s a mess of hormones he’ll show me his legs, even show me his legs spreading wide with a nice prize between them.

So I lean forward again, before rolling his tanks up to the level just above his pecs, and let his rosy-colored, dewy nipples hardened between my thumbs and index fingers.

“Changmin-ah… how could you….uh…” He whispers, almost not audible enough between weak moans. His eyes fall back as he squirms, and finally little Minnie cheers for little Joongie resurrects from his slumber.

I guess it’s been a while since he had someone done this kind of thing to him; the last time I peeked on Yoochun banging him was six months ago if I’m not mistaken.

Still grinding his hips, I pucker my lips. “Sorry…”

His breath goes uncontrollable. He shakes his head slowly, staring at me as if I’m someone else. “Y-you scare me…”

“I won’t. I promise. Now be generous and shut up, your dongsaeng is desperate here.”

It’s not that I’m against warming-up but I don't have much time, I just fucking want to see the goddamn legs and maybe taste them (and that little prize between them a bit) and if some random impatient housewife knocks the door before I manage to get rid of this damn pants off, I’ll shoot corrosive liquid instead of sperm in the end, I swear.

Not wasting time, I climb off of him and pull his jeans down; a bit struggling at first since the thing hugs his hips really tight. I wonder if he has anything that’s tight other than the jeans.

“God, Hyung…” My erection hardens multiple times when the flawless beauty that’s his thighs is finally revealed. Not patient enough, I neglect his jeans around his knees to land my curious hands over a thigh, memorizing its precise description like a map.

Jaejoong jumps up to a sitting position and desperately tries to pull his pants back, but I swat his hands, catch his arm, ‘Shh’ him to calm down just like how you deal with an over-excited, untrained dog, except it somehow end up with my arms around him and tongue all over his mouth.

“Changmin, you’re crazy…” I guess it supposed to be an expression of shock, however it sounds like a weak plea, especially with his lips wet and swollen.

“But you like it.” I quickly slip my hand inside his brief and tug his slick, moist manhood out, rubbing circles around the precum-coated slit with an index finger while the other fingers stroking his steel-hard shaft slowly.

He winces and bites his lower lip, trying hard to prevent moans from escaping that succulent mouth. It escapes a bit, however, when I stop stroking him to pull his jeans off completely.

………………..holy mother fucker.

I’m seeing Jaejoong’s legs. Legs, legs, legs, legs.

“Hey… stop staring…” His face is redder than ever, it’s like I can see steam floating up from his cheeks.

The legs are still as beautiful as I remember; toned, few hairs, white, and only whiter, smooth like baby skin. The calves muscle weren’t too big, just fit, and there’s still some scars adorning the line under his left knee, and how I always want to count them one by one with my tongue, so I’m doing exactly like that, feeding my fantasy.

I don’t know how long I enjoy licking and kissing his legs, trailing from his toe to his knee with my tongue, nibbling the soft flesh on his inner thigh, I think I’m losing my mind. And I guess I’ve been too absorbed in it that I don’t realize he’s stroking his own erection, not until that back of his arches, thighs muscles twitch, eyes daze and teary from lust, a sight that shoots me straight to the groin.

“Enjoy yourself, Hyung?”

He looks away, half scowling, “Stupid dongsaeng… finish what you’ve done…”

Smirking victoriously, I flex his legs, pressing his knees against his shoulder. The cute, firm little ass bounces upward when I lick the curve between his balls, dragging wet rail down to his clenched, nervous hole. He can’t help but writhes and elicits breathy mewls when my tongue dances and intrudes his tight, pink entrance, even yelps when I shake my head while nibbling the soft flesh.

I quickly put a finger in front of my mouth and glare, ordering him to shut up.

“Please, Changmin… don’t tease, please…” he whispers softly.

Being an obedient dongsaeng, I grab the base of his cock and mouth the tip.

Just when he’s tensing and breathing harder, a phone vibrates inside my back pocket. I stop to pick up the phone and Jaejoong crosses his arms over his face in frustration.


It’s Yoochun.

“Yes, Hyung?”

“Are you with Jaejoong?”

“Yes, but...” I glance at Jaejoong. He waves his hand, forbidding me to pass the phone to him. “He’s in the toilet.”

“Oh, what are you guys doing? We’ve been looking for you!”

“We’re… eating.”

There’s a groan. “Man, I’m hungry too! Why didn’t you tell me you went to eat?”

“It’s just… hotdog, Hyung. I’m not even full. I guess I’ll eat again later.” I wink at Jaejoong. He rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back.

“Hotdog? Is it delicious?”

“Very, but also expensive.”

“Oh well, not interested then. Anyway, I’ll be waiting in front of the Otoya from before, hurry up and come here!”


I hang up and stare at Jaejoong’s desperate face for a while, and knowing that we don’t have much time, I grab his cock and suck it hard and fast, even too fast that I have no time to swallow the salty precum, and so the thick, clear liquid messily dribbles from the corner of my mouth. Being treated like that, I thought he’s going to grab and fuck my head, or tangle his fingers between my hair and yank it like what he did to Yoochun, anything rough like that, so I’m rather surprised when he only strokes my cheek with his index finger while gapping silently and lost in his own world, flushes and helpless.

Still treating me like a maknae, isn’t he?

It doesn’t take long until he comes, shooting the white cream quite a lot on my face and everywhere.

I use whatever fabric near me to wipe my face as he pants and gathers strength.

Some moments pass with silence until he breaks it first. “Changmin… you bring your credit card, right?” He asks.

“Yeah… why?”

He looks around uneasily, at the branded tops and jeans scattered around us that now are stained by cum and sweat. “I guess… we have to buy all these clothes, even the ones that don’t fit.” He pouts.

I chuckle and unzip my pants, releasing my persistent hard-on. “Better don’t waste our money then.”

Tags: [one-shot] legs jeans and hotdogs, jaemin

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