meet your maker
series: meet your maker (1/?)
pairing: jongdae/jaejoong
rating: explicit
warnings: dubcon, recreational drug use, forced homosexuality... this is a doozy
summary: jongdae’s goal is to collect a signature from a senior brother. jaejoong is intent on making him earn it.
notes: just.......... don’t read this. just don’t.
it’s a few minutes after jongdae rings the doorbell of one of the units of a seedy-looking apartment complex (and a few seconds after he thinks it might be time to give up) that the door swings inward and reveals a man behind it. he looks like he’s few years older than jongdae; good-looking in a devilish sort of way, with unkempt dark hair falling over sharp eyes and a joint resting between defined lips. his entire chest is covered in tattoos, which, while admittedly is well-formed and muscular, jongdae could have very happily gone without seeing if whoever the fuck this was had just put on a damn shirt before he answered the door.
dilated pupils take jongdae in, and the stranger rests his arm on the doorframe, leaning against it. “who the fuck are you?”
he looks like a fucking creep, and jongdae’s starting to feel like rushing was a bad idea. he frowns, looking back down at the message minseok had sent him with jaejoong’s address. “i think i’m in the wrong place.”
“could be.” maybe-jaejoong (god, please let it not be jaejoong) pulls the joint from his mouth, exhaling a cloud of smoke into jongdae’s face. “probably aren’t. you a new pledge?”
fuck, jongdae thinks. “are you kim jaejoong?”
the man flicks his joint, and the ash narrowly misses jongdae’s feet. jongdae takes a step back. he likes these shoes. “that’s me. you need my signature for the scavenger hunt, right?”
“they told you?”
jaejoong chuckles. “nah, but they always like to scare the new kids. come on in.” he places the joint back between his lips and holds the door open for jongdae.
it seems increasingly likely that this is a bad idea, but jaejoong is looking at him expectantly and jongdae thinks he probably won’t get what he needs unless he plays along, so despite his better judgement he finds himself crossing the threshold into jaejoong’s dimly lit apartment.
“sit down, make yourself at home.” jaejoong tells him as the door slams shut behind them. “you want a beer or anything?”
“no thanks.” the couch feels sticky and smells like stale beer, and despite his freshman status, the sense of revulsion jongdae feels vastly outweighs the appeal of free alcohol.
jaejoong tsks at him from the kitchen. “come on, don’t be like that. if you have the opportunity to drink for free, you should take it. besides,” he says, carrying two cans of the stuff into the living room despite jongdae’s protests, “it’d be rude to reject my hospitality.” he drops himself on the couch next to jongdae (he’s a little too close, but jongdae’s already sitting against the arm of the couch and can’t get away), opens one of the beers with a crack, and passes it to jongdae. “drink up.”
jongdae thanks him (more out of obligation rather than actual gratitude) and takes a sip. it’s cheap, but he drinks it anyway, because there’s something about jaejoong that makes jongdae think he doesn’t take very well to the word ‘no.’
“you a freshman? you look young.” jaejoong’s making small talk. jongdae hopes it doesn’t last very long.
“yeah.” he’s about halfway done with his shitty beer, and with any luck, halfway to getting the fuck out of this guy’s apartment.
“what year were you born?”
jaejoong’s arm finds its way behind jongdae’s shoulders, and jongdae realizes he’s gotten closer. shit, this guy really is a creep.
“ninety-two.” one-third left, about. still too much.
“oh, really? i was born in eighty-six.” jaejoong seems smug somehow, as if he got something he wanted. it’s unsettling, and jongdae can feel his stomach turn.
he swallows down the last of his beer as fast as he can and sets down the empty can on the coffee table in front of him. “can i have your signature now?”
“huh? oh, right.” jaejoong looks down at what’s left of the joint in his hand and frowns. “shit, i need to roll a new one. give me a minute.” he leans over the coffee table, sifting through the mess to find a bag of pot. “if you’re done with your drink, you can go grab another. i don’t mind.”
he doesn't want another, but a trip to the kitchen seems like a welcome reprieve from the stench of weed and alcohol that jaejoong emanates, so jongdae gets up and grabs one anyway. when he gets back, jaejoong’s deftly drawing his tongue along the edge of the paper and sealing it shut.
jongdae moves to sit in a chair and, more importantly, not next to jaejoong, but jaejoong pats the seat next to him. “c’mere, sit with hyung.” when jongdae hesitates, jaejoong offers him a smile. “come on. you want that signature, right?”
he sits back down next to jaejoong, who scoots right back into jongdae’s personal space. he cringes a little. jaejoong doesn’t seem to notice, busy lighting the fresh joint. “want a hit? it’s the good stuff. i usually don’t like to share, but you’re cute, so i'll make an exception.”
“i’m fine,” jongdae says.
jaejoong shrugs, and for a few minutes jongdae is blessed with silence as jaejoong focuses on staying high.
then, far too casually, he speaks. “you ever sucked cock before?”
jongdae chokes on his beer.
“it's okay if you haven't,” jaejoong tells him, voice reassuring, “there's a first time for everything.” he reaches out, resting his hand on jongdae's crotch.
“what the fuck?!” jongdae recoils in an attempt to get away, but there's nowhere to go, so he shoves jaejoong's arm away instead. unfazed, jaejoong places his hand right back where it was, this time firmly rubbing jongdae through his pants. it might have actually felt nice if it didn’t make jongdae feel so fucking sick to his stomach. “are you hazing me? is that what this is?!”
jaejoong lets out a bark of laughter. “sure, sweetheart,” he says. “that's what this is.”
“i - i'm straight,” jongdae manages.
jaejoong snorts derisively in return. “and i’m the virgin fucking mary. you were staring earlier. i know what i saw.”
“that’s your fault for answering the door without a shirt on,” jongdae snaps back, defensive. “you're fucking covered in tattoos. you would have stared too.”
“but still, babe,” jaejoong croons, lifting jongdae's chin to meet his gaze, “my eyes are up here.”
jongdae grimaces and pulls away. smiling, jaejoong lets him.
“but still, asshole,” jongdae parrots back at him mockingly, “i'm not fucking interested.” this has gone way too far and taken far too long. “look, can i just have your signature so i can go already?”
“can't you blow me first?” jaejoong flutters his eyelashes at jongdae. it’s not in the least bit charming, but jongdae suspects he’s not getting out of this one with both his pride intact and jaejoong’s signature, so he reaches out for the joint from jaejoong and takes a hit.
it really is good weed, but somehow that makes jongdae feel even more annoyed. so he inhales again, deeper this time, hoping that the blatant, selfish use of jaejoong's high-quality pot will piss him off. maybe he’ll tell jongdae to get the fuck out of his apartment. at this point, that'd be almost as good as the signature.
jongdae can tell it doesn’t work, though, because jaejoong’s eyes are still mirthful. “if you're a good boy for me, maybe i'll even return the favor.”
“great. tell me how to be good so i can then do the exact opposite of that.” jongdae gets off the couch; kneels between jaejoong’s spread legs. “and take your fucking dick out already.”
“you're so picky.” jaejoong is pouting, even as he lifts his hips to pull down his joggers. jongdae thinks he probably offended him. he doesn't give a shit. “it doesn't matter who it comes from, head is head.”
“i already fucking told you, i don't like dick,” jongdae says firmly. he knows that it’s at odds with jaejoong’s junk in his face, but it’s still the fucking truth.
“i don’t know who you think you are to judge, considering you’ve never even tried giving head before. i guess it’s a good thing you're about to, huh?” his right hand is on the back of jongdae's head, fingers tangling in thick brown hair. the joint is still dangling from his left. “go ahead. suck me off.”
since apparently looks really can’t kill and glaring at jaejoong won’t fucking get him out of this situation, jongdae reluctantly takes jaejoong’s half-hard cock into his mouth. it feels heavy and foreign on his tongue, but jongdae squeezes his eyes shut and sucks at it anyway, just wanting this to be over as soon as possible.
(he doesn’t know how long jaejoong’s been erect, but that’s okay, because he really doesn’t fucking want to.)
“that’s a good boy.” jaejoong’s clearly enjoying himself, voice a little breathless. he pushes jongdae’s head further down onto his hardening cock, muffling the younger boy’s squawk of indignation. “keep going, just like that. fuck, your pretty little mouth looks so good wrapped around my dick.”
his jaw hurts, but he does it anyway, and he keeps doing it until the bitter taste of jaejoong’s cum coats his tongue. it’s fucking disgusting, and jongdae wants nothing more than to spit it the fuck out, but jaejoong won’t move his hand to let him up.
“swallow it,” jaejoong instructs, and with no other way out jongdae obeys. finally, jaejoong allows him off his cock, instead using his hand to stroke jongdae’s hair affectionately. “good boy,” he coos. “that wasn’t bad for your first time. don’t worry. you’ll get better with practice.”
jongdae shudders. he should have given up on the scavenger hunt a long time ago, but he’s gotten this far already, so what the hell. “just give me your fucking signature.”
“but, baby, i have to thank you properly first!” he lifts jongdae easily back onto the couch. jongdae makes a mental note to bulk up in case he ever runs into jaejoong again. “it’s my turn to suck you off now.”
“i don’t fucking want it,” jongdae whines.
“don’t be like that. i’ll make it good for you, i promise,” jaejoong says, and jongdae figures he doesn’t have much of a choice. he sighs.
“give me that,” jongdae says, and reaches out and plucks the joint from jaejoong's hand.
“help yourself,” jaejoong tells him, mouth curled into a grin, “i won’t be needing it for a while, anyway.” he makes quick work of jongdae’s pants, then tugs them down over jongdae’s hips, exposing jongdae’s soft cock. he spits on it (“that’s fucking gross,” jongdae grumbles. jaejoong ignores him.) and gives it a few pumps, eyes focused on jongdae’s hardening dick.
“so that’s what i’m working with,” he says, looking pleased. then he leans in and closes his mouth over jongdae’s cock without hesitation.
jaejoong's mouth is hot and wet and he seems like he knows what he’s doing, so jongdae leans back and focuses on smoking, trying not to think too much about the fact that it's jaejoong giving him head and not someone he doesn't completely despise.
it mostly works. the higher jongdae gets, the more out of it he feels, and the less he cares that it’s jaejoong between his thighs. thoughtlessly, he reaches out grabs the back of jaejoong’s head much like jaejoong had done to him, because now that thinking straight has become a challenge… well, this all feels pretty fucking good to him.
jaejoong’s practiced mouth combined with his own high push jongdae over the edge faster than he’d ever like to admit, and he finishes with a loud cry.
“told you i’d make it good,” jaejoong says. he seems pleased. it’s irritating, but jongdae doesn’t feel like fighting him on it.
“whatever,” he says gruffly. he passes jaejoong’s joint back to him and tries to redo his jeans, pushing himself up off the couch once he eventually succeeds. “i’m fucking going.” and he tries to. it’s a valiant attempt, really, but his limbs don’t seem to understand what he wants anymore, so instead making his way towards the door, he makes his way to the coffee table, hitting his shin hard against the wood.
“shit,” he swears, and tumbles back towards the couch.
surprisingly, jaejoong reaches out and steadies him gently. “you’re not going anywhere like that. sit back down, i’ll order us some food.”
feeling powerless, jongdae flops back down on the couch obediently. “your couch is fucking nasty,” he says, trying to exact some sort of petty revenge for all the bullshit jaejoong just put him through.
much to jongdae’s chagrin, jaejoong doesn’t seem bothered by it. “well, next time you come over, i’ll clean it just for you.”
“i’m not coming back over,” jongdae mutters.
“we’ll see about that,” says jaejoong.
later, after a whole lot of chicken, a couple more beers, and an hour long nap, jongdae finally walks out of jaejoong’s apartment, signature in hand. he stops and looks at it once, just to make sure jaejoong actually fucking signed his name properly and isn’t just stringing him along for more entertainment.
it’s there, but so is his phone number. jongdae tears the paper in half, crumpling up the number and chucking it hard onto the floor.
fucking asshole.