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Seungmin sees what Minho wants him to. Someone he could always go back and forth with during practice, someone he could be comfortable around when they came home. Someone who admired how hard he worked, and took care of him with meals so he wasn’t ordering kimchi fried rice when they had all the ingredients in their fridge footsteps away. A testament to how well Minho had perfected his mask, Seungmin had no way of seeing how deep that care really went.
The only things Minho had no control over were his ears, the way they’d redden when Seungmin crowded a little too close or gave him an unabashedly genuine compliment. Minho hated the tangible feel of heat rising up to his face, how it obviously conflicted with the aloof okay, thanks he’d give in response. Minho also hated how honest Seungmin’s words were, and the way his heart picked up because he knew he meant it. Seungmin has never needed masks.
After maybe years, it’s Jisung who’s responsible for unraveling the indifference Minho wore when it came to Seungmin. It’s Jisung being nosy in things that shouldn’t concern him, and opening his mouth about gossip that shouldn’t concern Minho either.
“Has Seungmin told you about his escapades yet?” Jisung asks, mouth full of pasta he keeps reaching past Minho’s shoulder for.
“You’re gonna be eating a plain bowl of sauce if you don’t stop.” Minho smacks his grabby hand away.
Jisung pouts in resignation, watches Minho stir for a couple moments before he seems to remember the gossip he’s only started to spill.
“Seungmin is kissing someone, hyung,” Jisung says, shuffling to stand closer beside him, presumably to gauge his reaction.
“Ok,” Minho keeps his eyes on the sauce simmering, voice level. “Can you pass the oregano?”
“Don’t pass the oregano me!” he exclaims, even as he hands him the jar.
“Thank you,” Minho replies. He sprinkles some into the pot before moving to turn the heat off. “I’m gonna add the pasta now.”
Jisung crowds into his space further, pushing his face close to his. “I know you like him, hyung. You admitted it again after we drank last week.”
Hidden from Jisung, Minho grits his teeth behind his lips. “That was a joke.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I just walked into Seungmin’s room right now?” His voice drops to a sharp whisper. “Said that Minho hyung has a big crush on you? Because it’s just a joke right?”
“Don’t,” Minho says too quickly, practically spinning to finally look at him. He instantly wishes he didn’t, the way Jisung’s mouth curls into a smirk.
Minho rolls his eyes, goes back to pouring the pasta in. “Or whatever. I don’t care.”
Jisung’s tone softens. “I just wanted to give you a heads up. I don’t think they’re serious or anything.”
He starts saying something about not making himself suffer, but Minho’s not interested in continuing the conversation anymore. He walks away from the kitchen to knock on Seungmin’s door himself, letting him know dinner is ready.
He’s not suffering. He’s being a good member, a good friend, and an incredible roommate towards one of his favorite people by feeding him at least twice a week. When Seungmin slowly opens the door, looking stupidly cute in a hoodie two times big, he smiles as soon as he sees Minho standing there. More likely, the already set table and food Jisung is carrying over behind him.
“Thank you hyung,” he says, flopping his sweater paws excitedly.
Either way, Minho doesn’t want or need anything else.
▽
Minho won’t tell his best friend this, but he is actually thankful Jisung warned him before the jokes started coming up at practice. It seems like everyone is over the moon (except Chan, who frequently shoots him weighted looks that Minho has to spend an annoying amount of effort to ignore) that their diligent, focused Seungmin was entertaining any romance.
Minho laughs when he’s supposed to. He gives Seungmin a sympathetic look when Hyunjin won’t stop physically shaking him for more details. Even though really, he's listening just as intently as Jisung who is practically salivating for information next to him.
Minho learns that they met at their vocal coach’s office after Seungmin tried to squeeze in another lesson on a day he didn’t usually go. That they got coffee after their coach sent them both off to rest. They had a lot in common regarding music and where they grew up. And then, the lucky guy kissed Seungmin after walking him to the dorm.
Minho tries not to bristle at the fact this happened just outside his own home.
“I don’t really see us dating seriously, but it’s nice to have someone to meet up with every once in a while,” Seungmin says, shrugging slightly as he talks to the group. His white t-shirt hangs loosely around him, like Seungmin floats inside of his clothes instead of actually wearing them. Something about it makes Minho want to toss him onto his bed and wrap his arms around him for an hour.
“And to make out with?” Changbin unhelpfully pipes in, shaking him out of warm thoughts. The new visual that pops into Minho’s head is enough to make his stomach churn.
Seungmin just laughs, hard to embarrass as usual. “Yeah.”
His eyes flit over to where Minho’s sitting on the couch, and Minho doesn’t know why. He doesn’t say anything, so Minho just gives him a flat line smile and a thumbs up. Long ago, he established that Seungmin would do weird things that he’d never totally understand – though the prolonged eye contact now seemed a lot more deliberate, almost like he’s searching Minho’s expression for something.
Minho doesn’t have anything to give.
It looks like Seungmin’s about to walk over, but then Changbin’s trying to jump on his back demanding why he was the last to find out.
▽
In the privacy of his own room later, Minho is cursing under his breath thinking about Seungmin. And no, he doesn’t have a hand down his pajama bottoms, not this time anyway.
Jisung has sent him a link of Seungmin’s ridiculous fancall from earlier this week, and it might be Minho’s tenth time replaying it. It’s a video of Seungmin saying that Minho is, as always, his favorite member. The plain seriousness of his tone leaves Minho’s face red by the second loop. His next words that there’s no particular reason why I like him that much are too precious and simple, and Minho would like nothing more than to throw his phone, lit up by a smiley Seungmin, across the room. The whole thing doesn’t even make sense when it’s consistently obvious Jeongin was his favorite anyway.
When he finally scrolls, the next video is another fancall of Seungmin, for no reason, discussing how cute Minho is when he wakes up.
He groans and sits up from where he’s lying in bed. Before he opened his phone, all he could think about was the way Seungmin rushed out of practice earlier, the rest of the members snickering knowingly. If Kim Seungmin liked him that much, why was he so cozy with someone he wasn’t even interested in dating?
Minho rubs his face harshly, trying to get rid of the possessive streak of thinking he knows is wrong and useless. He was just supposed to get lost in his YouTube recommendations tonight. Searching for something to fault, he considers blocking Jisung’s number before getting up to refill his water bottle.
The kitchen is quiet tonight, only the muffled shouts from Felix’s room as he plays Genshin filtering in every once in a while. Minho leans against the counter, sipping water and trying to think non-Seungmin related thoughts.
He stiffens as he registers the jangle of keys outside the door, own body betraying him by staying rooted to the spot even though his brain is pleading for him to go back into his room.
It’s too late to do anything as the entrance swings open. Seungmin expectedly comes in, waddling into the kitchen in an oversized parka. Minho allows himself seconds to appreciate the adorable sight before promptly shifting his gaze to the floor.
“Hi hyung,” he says casually, peeling off the coat and hanging it over his arm. “Are you going to shower tonight?”
Minho looks up where Seungmin’s standing in front of him, tries to ignore the way his nose is cutely red from the windchill outside.
“Nah, I did earlier,” Minho replies. “You should go to bed soon after, it’s late.”
Seungmin nods, before beginning to shuffle past him to his room. As Minho’s gaze drops away, he notices the dark spots blooming just above Seungmin’s shirt collar.
His lungs start working overtime like someone knocked the wind out of him.
He knew Seungmin would eventually start to click with someone, compliment someone else as unabashedly, visit cafes around Seoul together. Yes, even kiss them. But really, nothing could have prepared him for what it’d feel like to see anything that tangible.
“Wait,” Minho says before any of the practiced restraint he usually relied on could kick in.
Seungmin stops, expression curious as he faces him. “What’s up?”
Minho, rarely this purposeful with touch, suddenly can’t stop himself from reaching his hand out to shift Seungmin’s head up by the chin.
“What is this?” the words tumble out, eyes roaming the bruises all over Seungmin’s neck as he fails to maintain even a shred of disinterest.
Seungmin has the decency to look away, though he still stays in Minho’s grasp.
“We were just messing around,” he says, sounding embarrassed for once. If Minho could form a thought right now, he’d probably consider the tone cute. Seungmin tries to pull up his shirt to cover the marks when Minho doesn’t move.
Only then Minho blinks, dropping the hand he realizes was still gripping Seungmin’s jaw. He starts recovering immediately, picking up the pieces of the mask he’s worked determinedly on.
“We have a shoot tomorrow. Don’t make things more difficult for our stylist,” Minho says. He thinks it’s a pretty good cover too, until Seungmin opens his mouth again.
“Does it make things more difficult for you?”
Minho’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair, and he barely manages not to sputter. “What?”
Minho stares at him. Neither of them move.
“Nevermind, ignore that,” Seungmin laughs after a beat. It sounds hollow, but whatever tension held in the air around them dissipates with it. He turns to walk away.
Minho doesn’t really feel like he’s functioning. He’s barely in the right mind to know he has to hurry into his own room before Seungmin can come back out for his shower.
What the fuck was that?
▽
The confusion from the night is quickly replaced by irritation. The image of hickeys littering Seungmin’s neck haunts Minho every day, causing his hands to clench into fists each time he remembers until there are half-moon indents in his palms. It makes him act irrationally in other ways too, ones the logical part of himself disapproves of completely.
As much as Minho knows the proprietorial nature of his behavior is not just wrong, but also too obvious, he can’t help it either. And somehow, Seungmin’s responses just spur him on further.
The next time someone cracks a joke about Seungmin nailing moves quicker just so he can go rendezvous with his “boyfriend”, Minho bans all discussions regarding hookups. He claims they’ve been distracting everyone and that they need to focus with a comeback only a month away.
Felix shoots him a questioning look in the mirror since they’ve been on track just fine, but has the sense not to say anything. On the other hand, screw Hyunjin, who mutters something about Minho hyung getting jealous under his breath. The only reason he doesn’t toss him out is because of the sound of Seungmin’s soft giggle in response.
When Chan picks Seungmin up after practice, Minho calls him to bring him over. With precision, he smacks both of his hands onto Seungmin’s ass and claims that this is his.
“Sure hyung,” Seungmin laughs while trying to struggle out of Chan’s grip. Minho wants to ask him to prove that, but he has to ignore him to fight off Changbin from smacking him as well.
Even when they’re alone, and there’s no one even to compete with, Minho can’t help it. Jeongin and Felix are out getting sushi tonight, and Minho is reading in the peace of the living room when Seungmin walks in.
Minho watches him sit on the armchair across from him through his periphery. Like he's actually insane, Minho starts getting pissed they even bought that chair. What was the point? There was plenty of room on the couch.
“Sit over here,” Minho demands without a second thought.
Seungmin looks up and pauses, trying to read the crease between Minho’s brows, before sliding his phone into his pocket.
“You’re being weird these days,” he says, even though he sounds kind of delighted by it. He gets up to perch himself on the other end of the couch, which has Minho huffing into the pages of his book.
“Closer, Kim Seungmin.”
Seungmin fully laughs at that, but also sidles up to Minho until their thighs are touching all the same.
“Is this enough for you?”
Minho doesn’t answer or give an explanation, just begins reading again with the comfort of Seungmin’s leg pressed against his and not an inch of space between them. He waits for Seungmin to pull out his phone. At least ten minutes go by, but Seungmin just sits there.
“Now you’re being weird.”
“What do you think of me and the guy from vocal lessons?” Seungmin asks, never one to mince words when something was on his mind.
Minho’s body tenses in a familiar way it had been all week. The thoughts of Seungmin being with someone, letting them wrap around him and lick all over his skin –
“I don’t think casual hookups suit you,” he replies tightly, ignoring the acrid taste filling his mouth.
“That’s it?”
Minho sighs, closing his book and putting it on the coffee table. He doesn’t understand what Seungmin was after tonight.
“You should be careful,” Minho says, turning his head to look at him.
“We haven’t had sex,” Seungmin responds clinically while maintaining eye contact.
“I meant in terms of work,” he clarifies, gaze falling to the fading marks on Seungmin’s neck. He swallows down what has to be bile.
“Oh,” Seungmin says in a small voice.
Minho doesn’t miss the red creeping onto his skin, he can’t when Seungmin is right there in front of him and he can’t stop staring. His hand moves on its own accord again, brushing against the light mark next to Seungmin’s throat. The muted irritation he’s been feeling since the first time he saw the bruises must travel straight to his fingertips when he presses down. He listens to Seungmin’s shaky exhale.
“I will say, things are even better when you’re with someone you really care about,” Minho adds. He means for it to sound like he’s giving advice as an older member, but his thumb is still stuck on Seungmin’s neck – and nothing really explains why it got there in the first place.
“I can see that,” Seungmin nods slightly. Just like the night he walked into the kitchen, he makes no extra movements to shake off Minho. “What are you like with someone you care about?”
Minho drops his hand, finally looks up at Seungmin to see how his expression fares with the line of questioning. Frankly, he didn’t look like he was joking around. When Minho impulsively decides to lean closer to test it, he catches the way he silently gulps.
“I show them that I can’t get enough of them,” Minho says slowly, “I’m probably a little rough, I’d mark them up even worse than you got.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Seungmin asks.
The question catches Minho off guard. Really, Seungmin could have just punched him in the gut and it would have had the same effect.
He takes a moment to notice the way Seungmin’s hands are twisting nervously, the way his lip quivers in palpable anticipation when Minho looks down to his mouth before looking back up. His dark eyes are wide – and completely serious.
In the same moment, Minho ditches the faltering guise he’s tried to keep up with for too long. If he was being honest, it had been falling apart the minute Jisung told him Seungmin had started seeing someone. It took all the effort in the world to finish making dinner that day.
“First, stop fucking around with that guy,” Minho finally murmurs, grabbing the back of Seungmin’s neck and curling his fingers.
Seungmin lets out the softest gasp, and the sound shouldn’t turn Minho on as much as it does.
“Tell me you understand.”
“Y-yes,” Seungmin exhales, ”You don’t have to worry about it anymore, hyung.”
It’s too satisfying. To have Kim Seungmin, the one who pestered him just by existing, the one who made Minho's ears burn by calling him cute out of nowhere – now crumpling in time with Minho’s demands. Minho curls his fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck and drags his face forward so their lips are almost touching.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Minho whispers, searching Seungmin’s face for any hesitation. He doesn’t find any. “But I can show you something way better.”
“Please,” is the last thing Seungmin gets out before Minho’s bringing their mouths together.
He kisses Seungmin until his lips part, half in disbelief he’s gotten this far, half pissed that someone was this close to Seungmin days ago. Remembering, he pulls his hair harshly, and swallows down the moan that comes after.
Minho can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He moves his hand to his jaw, slotting their mouths better before licking into it. Seungmin’s a bit sloppy with his tongue, like he doesn’t have much experience, but he’s enthusiastic and it's wet and hot and it’s Seungmin.
Minho pulls back eventually, allowing himself to take in the sight of Seungmin’s slick, red lips and heaving chest before shoving his head into his neck. Seungmin smells like fresh soap. Minho wants to touch him until he’s painted in sweat and his own scent.
“I could fucking ruin you, Seungminnie,” Minho murmurs as he kisses up and down his throat. His hands roam over the planes of his lithe chest, feeling the skin and bones underneath his thin shirt.
“Then–” Seungmin’s voice cuts off in loud sigh as Minho begins to suck just above his collarbone. His hands find Minho’s hair and grip like he has to ground himself to this plane of existence. Minho smiles victoriously into his skin, before continuing to work his tongue and mouth across Seungmin’s shoulders, chest, and pretty neck. Seungmin’s weak petting against his head and whines only encourage him to bite and suck harder than he usually would.
“No way you can see him anytime soon like this,” Minho says, breathless when he finally moves back. Seungmin’s bangs stick to his forehead, shirt askew, and Minho is proud of how disheveled his neatest member is, courtesy of his mouth.
Seungmin tries to look down, catches a glimpse of the bruises already starting to show. “I already said you don’t have to worry about that,” he sighs.
“Good. It was a waste of your time,” Minho replies too bitterly.
“It got you to kiss me though,” Seungmin smiles, infuriating as ever. He leans in as if to prove something, pecking Minho once, twice on the lips. Minho flutters his eyelids shut and tries not to get lost in how good a couple of kisses from Seungmin feels.
“I just wanted better for you,” Minho says stubbornly as Seungmin pulls back, like anyone would believe that’s why he made out with him.
“And what about not giving our makeup artists a hard time?” Seungmin teases, unfazed. “This is way worse.”
Minho scoffs, looking away. His ears are already starting to flare. “You’re annoying. Get away from me.”
As much as he would love to find other ways to keep Seungmin quiet, the other members were going to come tumbling in soon.
Seungmin obliges with an easy laugh. It’s light and airy, a stark contrast to the new marks pressed into his milky skin.
“Good night hyung,” he says, getting up. “I hope you keep wanting the best for me~”
Minho still doesn’t know why this is the guy he’s ended up liking so much.
▽
The next few days are hell. For one, Minho can’t stop looking at Seungmin without wanting to kiss him now that he knows how soft his lips are and how good he tastes. He blames the comeback practices, emcee schedules, and studio time as to why he doesn’t remind himself of exactly how good. Seungmin keeps catching him looking with a knowing smirk, which has Minho internally reeling and Jeongin muttering gross beside him.
That isn’t the worst part though, not at all. Somehow Seungmin had managed to become even more infuriating, aware of what Minho can admit as his mild susceptibility to possessiveness. Minho hasn’t made a real move since the day they met until now, of course Seungmin would assume the only way he’d initiate is by wielding his own irrationality against him.
It’s subtle enough to be mostly unnoticed by the other members, but Seungmin is definitely being more cuddly with everyone but him. He doesn’t just let Chan hug him without hesitation, but he also throws his leg over him, which makes Chan coo incessantly. Minho narrows his eyes at them, even though it’s nothing too out of the ordinary. He doesn’t really care how it comes off when he says they need to start practice immediately.
Afterwards, they dive into the snacks Hyunjin had brought earlier. Seungmin and him sit in a corner with the only Homerun chocolates, which is enough to beckon Minho over. As soon as he sits beside them, Seungmin opens his mouth at Hyunjin.
“Give me one,” he says as best as he can with his lips parted.
Minho watches in disgust as Hyunjin puts a chocolate in his mouth. Seungmin chews, then, “Another, hyungie.”
Hyunjin pokes his cheek before his long fingers push another in. Seungmin lets his teeth playfully drag along Hyunjin’s hand, which earns him a giggle and swat. Then he makes a big deal out of eating it, making savoring sounds for a fucking snack he has every other week.
“This is unbearable actually,” Minho grumbles, moving to get up.
Seungmin smiles sweetly at him, close mouthed and with his eyes squeezing shut. It’s actually very cute, and it’s all the more reason Minho needs to walk away.
The next time something similar happens, Minho knows for sure he’s doing it on purpose. Yet, he can’t help but take the bait anyway. As they’re collecting their jackets to leave the practice room, he overhears Seungmin coincidentally asking Jeongin if it would be weird to get someone he’s only been seeing for a month a Christmas gift.
“Huh? I thought you weren’t talking to him anymore.”
“He’s not Iyen-ah,” Minho cuts in, evaluating the innocently smug look plastered on Seungmin’s face as he steps in front of them. Jeongin pauses, looking between them.
“Oh god, are you guys playing some weird game? It’s been so weird lately between you two,” Jeongin says in clear distress.
“No it hasn’t,” Minho objects.
“Yeah, it has,” Jeongin rolls his eyes, “I’m leaving.” He picks his coat up from the coach and makes a leeway for the exit where everyone else is filtering out of, even before Minho has the chance to defend himself.
Instead he lets Chan know they’re going to stay behind to refine some of the moves, which isn’t unusual for him to do with the members. He orders Seungmin back towards the mirror as everyone leaves, and when the door shuts for the last time he finally spins around to face the menace himself.
“What are you doing?” Minho asks sharply. Standing in front of him like this, even the few centimeters Seungmin has on him is vexing, pushing him towards an edge he isn’t sure what’s on the other side of.
Seungmin, on the other hand, looks delighted.
“What am I doing?” he parrots back happily. Minho’s jaw flexes involuntarily.
He takes another couple steps forward, cornering Seungmin between himself and the mirror behind him. When Seungmin’s expression doesn’t change, he gets the nagging feeling that Seungmin particularly likes this. He looks at himself in the mirror briefly, the tension in his face, the way his eyes smolder with muted anger. Then he looks back at Seungmin, and it only confirms his suspicions.
“Thinking about that guy again today?” Minho doesn’t hold back from letting him hear the prickly irritation that’s crawling under his skin.
“I think I miss him.”
First there’s only white noise cracking in between Minho's ears, and then he’s shoving his forearms onto the mirror on either side of Seungmin’s face.
“I’m kidding hyung! You know I’m kidding,” Seungmin says quickly.
Minho knows he is, knew from the moment he rattled off the lie to Jeongin. If anything, he’s more angry at himself for reacting as strongly as he is regardless.
And then there’s the other part of him, the aching want below his navel every time Seungmin acts like this. Whatever power game he’s been initiating, it’s made Minho only more determined to fuck it out of him until he couldn’t play anymore.
“Seungmin-ah, what do you want from me?”
Seungmin smiles. “What you said earlier this week.”
“That you need to fix your angles during the prechorus?” Minho smiles back sweetly, which has Seungmin grimacing.
“No,” he pauses, “You said you could, quote, fucking ruin me.” Another pause. “Is that still on the table?”
Minho’s head is rushing again. When he doesn’t say anything, Seungmin quips once more, reaching for the phone in his pocket.
“Or I could give my friend a call—”
One of Minho’s hands instantly drops from the mirror and shoves against Seungmin’s front pocket. He presses his palm on his thigh with enough pressure for Seungmin to get the message.
“I promised Yongbok we’d get massages today. Be in my room when I’m back.”
▽
As much as Kim Seungmin knew how to poke and prod until he got the reaction he wanted from him, he was still dutifully obedient. Expectedly, he has let himself into Minho’s bedroom by the time he returns.
When Minho first walks in, he’s a little disappointed Seungmin isn’t lying on his covers with less clothes on. However, the feeling doesn’t last long. The wide smile Seungmin shoots at him, braces on full display, could convince Minho the entire sun was in his chest the way he warms from the inside out.
“You’re cute, Kim Seungmin,” Minho admits out loud, dropping his backpack unceremoniously on his chair.
“I didn’t do anything though,” Seungmin says from where he’s perched on the bed. Minho walks over to him, looks at his smile, the way it’s slightly lopsided with confusion. He takes in the gray hoodie, the way his hair has air dried fluffy from a shower, his big eyes that are always honest. He’s wearing cotton shorts that graze high above his knees, and his pale legs hang off the edge of the mattress.
Seungmin was always playing for the upperhand without realizing the simple ways he had power over him. Minho makes a mental note about mentioning it later, mostly because he wasn’t going to delay any longer what he’d been thinking about since he left the practice room.
“Sweatshirt off,” he says, taking another step until he’s standing between Seungmin’s bare knees. He doesn’t hold back from letting ice sink into his tone, pretty confident that Seungmin enjoys it based on the way his pupils practically double in size when he realizes what’s happening.
Seungmin lifts it over his head without talking back for once, drops it to the side as Minho sucks in a breath at the marks peeking below his shirt.
Seungmin had carefully been wearing high necks and oversized tracksuit jackets all week. It’s Minho’s first time seeing how he left him, purple watercolor flowers on skin that leave his mind ringing with only one thought. Mine.
He reaches out to trace a thumb lightly over his partially marred collarbone. “Do you like it?” he asks, feeling Seungmin palpably shiver under his finger. He presses again. “Baby?”
“I like it,” Seungmin breathes out.
Minho drags his hand to tilt his chin up, bends down to kiss him with pressure. Seungmin’s mouth slackens against his pliantly as he kisses back, and Minho has no idea how he went days without it. When Minho licks into him, Seungmin sighs, hands flying up the sides of his thighs.
Minho pulls back, starts pushing at Seungmin’s shoulders until he’s flat against his bed and Minho can straddle his legs and take in how pretty he looks under him.
“Have you done this before Seungmin-ah?” Minho asks softly, but seriously. He’s fairly sure he already knows the answer.
Seungmin shakes his head, confirming. “No…but I want to.” He looks away for a second, before looking back with more determination. “With someone I like.”
Minho’s heart stops beating. When it starts again, he picks up Seungmin’s hand.
“I don’t think I could let anyone else have you again,” Minho admits. It’s not a full confession, but Seungmin’s wasn’t technically either.
Seungmin seems on the same page when he squeezes his hand.
“Hyungie keeps saying he could ruin me but he hasn’t done anything yet,” Seungmin teases, mouth curling into that self-satisfied smirk that begs to be wiped. He untangles their hands, takes both of his and places them on Minho's thighs and looks up at him expectantly. Minho wants to keep him in his room forever.
“I’m going to break you,” is all he says, leaning down to crush their lips together.
Minho doesn’t know how long they spend kissing each other, each one getting increasingly sloppy, grinding against one another, hands flying everywhere to touch. They peel back their clothes gradually, and Minho sighs at the feeling of his skin against Seungmin’s each time another article of clothing hits the floor beside them. Eventually they’re completely bare, and Seungmin is moaning everytime Minho moves on top of him and drags their cocks together in delicious friction.
Minho sits up, chest heaving, face sweat slicked. Seungmin might as well be a mirror of him. He grabs lube from the nightstand, returns to sit in between Seungmin’s legs. With his permission, he pushes a finger in, in awe as it slides in easily.
“You opened yourself up for me?”
Seungmin gasps as Minho pushes another finger in, then begins his unnecessary explanation, “In the shower earlier. I also read some tutorials. I used a silicon based lubricant, it honestly took a while and Jeongin kept knocking–”
“Please shut up,” Minho groans, “Just let me enjoy how hot this is, please.” He adds another finger, letting his other hand to fist up and down Seungmin’s length. Judging by the way Seungmin's head falls back to face the ceiling and how he bites his lip – it’s an effective way of getting him to be quiet.
“I can’t wait to fuck into you,” Minho says lowly as his fingers disappear in and out easily in time with Seungmin’s shaky breaths. He removes them only to open a condom. He rolls it over his length, then climbs over Seungmin as he aligns himself. The tip of his dick is already leaking a significant amount of precum as it prods Seungmin’s entrance. “You’re good puppy?”
Seungmin opens his eyes and nods, arms curling around Minho’s neck as he pushes in gently. With Seungmin’s whispers of please keep going, hyung, eventually Minho’s buried to the hilt. He builds rhythm, watches and listens for Seungmin’s confirmations until he’s sliding in him with ease. He’s shaking, just because watching his cock disappear within Seungmin is on the edge of being too good, so much so Minho has to bury his head into the crook of his shoulder if he wants to last. He kisses his neck and bites down as he fucks him slow and deep, lets himself get lost in the physical feeling of Seungmin clenching all around him.
“So tight and perfect for me,” he murmurs.
“More,” is all Seungmin can whine in return, fingers grazing uselessly on Minho’s back. “You’re holding back.”
Minho laughs in his ear. “I’m just enjoying myself.” When Seungmin makes another pouting noise, he stops moving altogether and sits up.
“So demanding.” Minho tuts, watching the glint in Seungmin’s glassy eyes at his tone. “I wanted to be gentle. But after the bullshit you put me through.” The real frustration he endured for weeks finds its way back under his skin, only this time he could get it out the way he had been meaning to.
He caresses Seungmin’s jaw, then slides his hand down to curl around his throat. Seungmin whimpers.
“You’re a fucking brat, Seungminnie,” Minho tightens his fingers. “Don’t complain when I treat you like one.”
He starts thrusting deeply then, forcefully enough for their skin to slap obscenely loud in time with Seungmin’s choked off sighs. Minho holds his neck for leverage to keep him in place, snaps his hips as hard as he wants, like he’s just trying to get himself off and using Seungmin for his tight ass. He watches him fall apart beneath him, but it’s still not enough.
“Say my name, say you’re mine while I fuck you,” Minho demands through gritted teeth as he keeps up the brutal pace. Flashes of Seungmin letting anyone else kiss him flood his mind.
“Minho hyung, hyung,” Seungmin tries, though Minho’s grip on his throat and relentless thrusts do nothing to help.
“Louder Seungmin,” Minho snaps his hips again, watches pretty tears prick in his eyes.
“Minho hyung owns me,” Seungmin manages with strained effort, his voice breaking. Minho doesn’t let up the pressure around his throat. “Hyung owns all of me.”
He watches as tears leak down the sides of his red cheeks, his hands wringing the sheets below them, focuses on how tight Seungmin feels around him.
“Good boy,” Minho breathes. The heat in his core is building fast, but he still wants him even closer.
He releases the hand from his throat to bring up Seungmin’s legs over his shoulders, and the deeper angle has him groaning immediately. He has Seungmin folded practically in half and nothing has felt better in his life, nothing has never looked better than Seungmin choking through sobs as gets pushed into the mattress with each thrust.
His movements become ragged and sloppy, and then he’s coming, seeing some combination of stars and Seungmin writhing below him.
In a haze, it takes him one, two jerks of Seungmin’s full, leaking cock and whispering You were good for me, baby until he’s coming apart into his fist with a whine.
Minho promptly falls on top of him afterward, their sticky bodies just rising and falling together in the stillness of his room.
“You’re heavy,” Seungmin says eventually, never able to leave Minho’s life in a state of peace for long. The only satisfaction he finds is in the rawness of his voice, the slight croak he’s fully responsible for.
Begrudgingly, Minho uprights himself just to throw out the condom and wipe his hand with a tissue. Then he lays back down, this time beside Seungmin. He pulls the blanket at the end of the bed over the both of them.
“Changbin hyung would kill me if we had studio time tomorrow.”
Minho ignores him, starts pulling Seungmin into his chest instead.
“What about a shower?” Seungmin giggles, letting himself loosen into Minho’s arms anyway.
“Later,” Minho murmurs, kissing the side of his forehead. “You’re mine now, so we can do things whenever we want.”
He doesn’t care that it barely makes sense, just lets himself kiss Seungmin’s cheek and feels the way it shifts under his lips when he smiles back.