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A loud knock echoed through the dorm, reverberating in Minho’s drunk brain. He groaned loudly, looking from his bed to Chan’s. He was fast asleep, tangled in a naked girl.
The knocking sounded again and Minho swore, unfocused eyes barely managing to read the time. 4am. Stumbling out of bed, he swayed his way to the door, where the knocking was getting more insistent.
Eventually he managed to get it open, to reveal a scrawny kid, probably in his late teens. He groaned.
Chan had told him one of the boys he worked with at the café was a little too fond of him. To the point where it made him uncomfortable. To the point where he showed up to his dorm in the middle of the night it seemed.
The kid was still just staring at him, and Minho felt a little self conscious, realising he was only in his underwear. He sighed. Better to get this over with.
“Look, kid,” he said gruffly, trying to be firm but not too mean. “Chan is too nice to say it, but you make him uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to see you, especially in the middle of the goddam night.”
The kid looked taken aback, big eyes widening almost comically. Minho noticed there were tear streaks all down his red, puffy face. “He- he told you about me? About my- p-problem?”
Minho sighed again. “Yeah, he told me because it made him feel so uncomfortable. And Chan hyung is currently busy inside with a girl so I’d suggest you get it into your head that he doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“He-“ the boy choked on a breath, tears sliding down his face, “he said that?”
Minho felt a tiny sliver of sympathy for the kid. He did look truly distressed. This was probably his first crush or something, but he’d taken it too far.
“Yeah, he did. I know this might be hard to hear, but it has to be said, and Chan doesn’t have it in him to tell you himself. So just make it easy okay, and stay away from him unless necessary. Got it?”
The kid was sobbing uncontrollably now. He kind of looked like his entire world was collapsing in on itself. Minho’s heart lurched for him, he remembered what it was like to be young and fall for the wrong people. But showing up at their dorm in the middle of the night – that was stalking and needed to stop.
Still- this looked like it might morph into a full blown panic attack. Minho reached out, uncertain.
“Hey, it’s okay, take some breaths okay?” he said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The kid flinched away from it, eyes broken and desperate, then without further warning, he turned and sprinted down the hallway.
“Shit,” Minho swore, half considering going after him. But his head hurt and he was in his underwear and the kid was already out of sight, he’d never catch him. So he closed the door, and threw himself back on his bed, instead throwing a wish to the universe that the boy would find someone to help and would be okay.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
6 years later
Minho ambled down the wide driveway and opened the big wooden side gate with ease. He strolled into the yard as if it was his own, making his way to the pool, where he could already hear shouting and splashing.
He dumped his towel, shirt and phone on the side, before flinging himself in, gasping as the cool liquid shocked his sun-soaked skin.
As he surfaced, he was immediately grabbed by strong muscular arms that flung him to the side, immersing him in the water again.
“Chan, what the fuck!” he spluttered, glaring at his friend. The man just stood there, grinning, dimples on full show.
“Hey man, I let you use my pool for free, I should be allowed to have a little fun with you in exchange.”
“That sounds so wrong hyung.”
“Oh, did it give you ideas?” Chan wiggled his eyebrows, laughing at the disgusted look on Minho’s face as he tried to dunk the elder underwater.
Minho knew he was just joking. They were pretty much brothers at this point, and neither was a fan of incest. Chan had even declared on more than one occasion that he was closer to Minho than his actual younger brother - not completely surprising, as the kid had been living overseas for the last four years – but still a declaration of affection that warmed Minho’s heart.
“Oi, no fighting allowed unless I’m involved!” Changbin’s loud voice assaulted their ears and the two men turned to face him, grinning.
He took a few quick steps before hurling himself at them. Minho had never moved so fast, knowing the pain that getting hit by that many muscles would cause him.
Hours later, the three men slumped around the airy living room, freshly showered and devouring pizza. They chatted about their lives – Minho’s job, Changbin’s love life, Chan’s music, content in the comfort of people they could be totally at ease with.
“Oh, by the way, my little brother messaged me. He’s moving back,” Chan said casually.
“Oh, so we’ll finally get to meet the younger Han?” Changbin perked up in interest.
“Don’t get too excited. He’s a little nerd. I mean this totally affectionately, but he’s a bit of a loser.”
“Aww,” Minho cooed, “weren’t we all when we were younger? The awkward formative years.”
“He should have grown out of it by now,” Chan muttered. “Anyway, he’ll be living here, so don’t be surprised if you see a skinny dork walking around.”
“He sounds so cute!” Minho exclaimed. He didn’t have siblings, but he loved kids, and he wouldn’t mind having one around to dote on. Chan didn’t talk about his brother much. He hadn’t really had much to do with him for all the time Minho had known him, since Chan had been away for uni, and his brother had then moved away. It made Minho sad sometimes, to think that they weren’t close. He hoped this move would help to make them closer. Maybe he could help. He often worked with young people at his dance school.
“Maybe we should corrupt him,” Changbin said with a grin.
“There will be no corrupting,” Chan said sternly, “think what my parents would say when they get back.”
“How much longer are they gone?” Minho queried. Chan’s parents were diplomats – extremely rich and often shipped off to other countries for long periods of time.
“Another 4 months at least.”
“So we got a whole summer of debauchery ahead!” Changbin crowed. Chan hit him with a cushion.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho gulped at his aperol spritz, the bitter alcohol burning his tongue in just the right way. The bar was dark and dingy, and the bartender had looked at him strangely when he placed his order. He tried not to care. There was a band setting up in the corner, and classic pub hits being pumped out through speakers in the meantime. A small dance floor had assembled, but it was much too early in the night for him to be tempted by it.
Hyunjin stood beside him, drinking a daiquiri, complete with a tiny umbrella that he had requested specifically.
Minho had no idea why he had wanted to come to this particular bar, Minho had wanted to head to one of the city’s gay venues. Hyunjin had stubbornly quipped that every bar was a gay bar if he was in it. Looking around at all the butch men in their 40s trying to impress women in their early 20s with awkward dance moves, Minho was inclined to disagree.
“You’ll appreciate it more when you’ve had more to drink,” Hyunjin slurred near his ear. “This is the best place to find an older closeted type, and you know how much I’ve been craving that lately.”
Minho just looked at him in exasperation and took another mouthful of drink.
“That’s the spirit!” Hyunjin crowed, “you could totally find your own dilf if you just loosened up a bit.”
Minho sighed.
Hyunjin didn’t even notice, too busy smiling softly at a greying man across the bar.
Minho had had quite a few drinks by the time the band started to play. They were pretty good actually, and he and Hyunjin gravitated towards the stage to watch. Minho’s eyes roved over the members, a group of middle aged guys clearly enjoying themselves as they belted out classic rock. Minho smiled and nodded along, until his eyes landed on the lead guitarist who had just moved forward from the back of the stage.
Minho froze. The musician was a good 20 years younger than the rest of the band. He wore a loose white tank top that left his jacked arms and shoulders on display, sweat sheened muscles glimmering in the lights. Minho’s eyes devoured him, from the dark blue hair pushed lazily off his face to the ripped skinny jeans tucked into timberlands.
He moved about the stage like he owned it, flirty and alluring, the picture of confident charisma.
Minho had never felt so gay in his life.
He couldn’t help staring at him shamelessly, drinking in every cocky smile, every lip bite. Every thrust aimed at the gaggle of women gathered near him, screaming when he looked their way.
Minho tried not to be disappointed. He couldn’t expect every hot guy he lusted after to be gay, but he really would have liked this one to be. Not that he would have a chance anyway, but even the slight possibility would have been intoxicating.
Minho’s stare must have been intense, because the guitar player seemed to sense it, eyes roving over the sea of swooning women to land on him.
The big eyes gleamed with amused interest as they travelled over Minho’s form. And Minho felt tiny, helpless against it, like a rabbit caught in headlights. He couldn’t help the hardening in his pants.
The man’s eyes kept flicking back to him, smirking when every time he found Minho still staring at him like he was an expensive piece of art.
Minho knew he was being embarrassingly obvious, but he just couldn’t help himself. He was already lost to this man, and judging by the mischievous and heart stopping wink he just sent him, the musician was well aware of it.
When the set ended, the man took a swig of his drink, and then hopped off the stage. Why did it look like he was coming over? Shit . Minho panicked, turning to Hyunjin for help before realising he’d left to go talk to some guy across the room. Minho honestly hadn’t even noticed he’d gone. As the guitarist got closer, Minho’s heart pounded, his brain scrambling to work out how to act, praying that he wouldn’t just melt in a puddle at this gorgeous man’s feet.
“Hey,” the guy said, smiling at him. Up close he looked even more delicious, lips pouty and kissable, smile showing off large teeth Minho wanted to sink into his neck.
“Hi,” Minho managed after what was undoubtedly an embarrassingly long pause.
“I’m Jisung,” he said, holding out a hand. Minho took it, the bumpy calluses making his mind go haywire as he imagined the rough drag of them against his skin.
“What’s your name cutie?” he prompted when Minho didn’t offer it.
“Minho,” he blushed, hastily letting go of the hand he’d been holding for too long.
“Well Minho, would you let me buy the most attractive guy in the bar a drink?”
Minho tilted his head. “You don’t need my permission to buy yourself a drink,” he said, confused. Then the penny dropped. Oh. Jisung had meant him. He flushed scarlet.
“Wow, that was so smooth,” Jisung crooned, obviously thinking Minho had meant it as a pick up line. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Minho’s hand again and pulling him gently along with him to the bar. “You want another aperol?”
Minho nodded, impressed that the guy knew what he was drinking.
“Enjoy the set?” Jisung asked after he handed the drink to Minho and sipped at his own. Not beer, Minho noted happily. He couldn’t stand beer breath. Not that they would be kissing! He scolded his brain for its forwardness.
Jisung giggled. “You’re very cute you know,” he said, smiling up at Minho, who’d only just realised he hadn’t answered the question.
“You’re really good,” Minho said. “At playing I mean. The guitar.”
Jisung beamed. “Thanks! It’s my first time playing with these guys. Their normal guitarist got sick and cancelled at the last minute. I happened to be here having a drink and overheard. Thought I’d offer my services.”
Minho was stunned. “You’ve never played with them before? I never would have guessed!”
“I know, I fit in with them so well,” Jisung chuckled and Minho flushed at his unintended implication that Jisung looked like a 45 year old.
“I didn’t mean…”
Jisung laughed harder. “I know lovely, I’m just teasing. You’re altogether too adorable when you’re flustered.” He reached out and gave a little tug on one of Minho’s burning ear lobes.
“Wait for me to finish up?” he asked softly. “I think there’s only one set to go. They decided to cut it short tonight because they can’t really play their originals without their guitarist.”
Minho just nodded, unable to do anything else.
Jisung’s hotness somehow increased in the second set. Maybe it was because Minho had spoken to him and he had turned out to be a nice person. Or maybe because Jisung was giving him bedroom eyes whilst practically fucking the air. Either one of those options was plausible.
It made no sense though. Why was Jisung interested in him, of all people? He knew he had an attractive face, but his body… He glanced around the bar. Okay, so there weren’t many young guys here, and the ones that were were giving very strong het vibes. That would explain it.
Still, Minho was torn for a second, wondering if it was the best idea to be getting involved with someone so out of his league. It hadn’t gone well for him last time. But Jisung was winking at him and swiping his tongue out seductively, and Minho decided he didn’t care.
It had been a long time since he’d done anything with anyone, but if there was someone to break his drought for, this was it. And, for whatever reason, it was clear that Jisung wanted him.
Minho thrummed with anticipation of what would happen when the set was over, watching Jisung stick his tongue out lewdly again and imagining it licking his body. His mind was going haywire, the desire he hadn’t felt for so long coming back like a tsunami, waves of lust consuming his brain completely. He spent the entire time half hard, and when Jisung finally walked over, Minho grabbed him and dragged him to the dance floor, unsated horniness the antidote to his shyness and insecurity.
The bass shook the floor, and Minho didn’t even care which song was playing, he pulled Jisung against him and ground into him slowly. Jisung’s eyes widened for a second, and Minho relished with surprise at his ability to make the other guy flustered. But then Jisung was running eager hands over his body, hips grinding up so his crotch met Minho’s.
“The kitty got feisty,” Jisung breathed into his ear, lips brushing the lobe and making Minho’s dick jolt. Jisung’s smug, satisfied grin revealed that he’d felt it.
Minho whined as he fully hardened. “You did this to me. All your fault.”
“I’m happy to take responsibility baby. Just say the word.”
Minho stepped back to look at him, eyes wide and desperate. Jisung stared back, challenging almost, daring Minho to make the move.
Fuck it, he thought, and crashed their lips together.
It was hot and heavy from the start, lips colliding, tongues twisting, gasps and groans punctuating the air.
They kissed like they would never get another chance, like they needed it to live.
And Jisung was dragging Minho off the dance floor, into a dark quiet corner and pushing him down onto a cushioned bench, climbing on top to straddle his thighs. He ground his hard cock into Minho’s own as he bit at Minho’s lips and deepened the kiss even more.
Minho was on fire. He hadn’t wanted anyone this much in a long time, body pulsing with need to have this man inside him.
Minho ran his hands over Jisung’s arms frantically, the bare skin soft despite the hard muscles underneath. He needed to get Jisung out of his clothes, needed to touch him properly. All of him. He marvelled again at the thought – he hadn’t felt the desire to do anything like this since his ex, and his stomach lurched with nerves. They made him freeze for a second, and then Jisung was kissing down his neck and they were forgotten.
“Come back to mine?” Minho whispered in his ear.
Jisung grinned. “Thought you’d never ask. Give me 2 mins.”
Jisung went to say goodbye to the band, and Minho sent a message to Hyunjin.
Minho
Don’t come back to mine tonight 🍆🍑💦
Hyunjin
What?!?! YESSS hyung. get that d
See you next week. Be safe
Minho
You too
Then Jisung was back, pulling him up and throwing an arm around his waist as he directed him to the door.
The taxi ride was spent with Jisung inching his hand further and further up Minho’s thigh, teasing excruciatingly closer and closer to his still straining cock but leaving him desperately, gloriously wanting.
“You’re so pretty when you whine darling,” he whispered into Minho’s ear as the hand came a hair's breadth away before retreating.
“I bet everything you do is so so lovely. I can’t wait to see it.” Minho’s head swam with want, swam with desire to be the loveliest, prettiest person Jisung had ever taken.
Minho barely had time to close the door to his apartment before he was pushed against it, Jisung claiming his lips like they were his to take.
And tonight, they were. Minho was Jisung’s, to use as he pleased.
Minho made quick work of Jisung’s tank top, throwing the offending material to the ground and running eager hands over the glorious muscle underneath. The guitarist’s hands moved eagerly to pull at Minho’s shirt, grabbing at the fabric, lifting it.
Minho froze, panic stilling the blood in his veins. Jisung stopped immediately and stepped back, letting the shirt fall back into place.
“I’m sorry-" Jisung started, but Minho interrupted.
“No! No, you have nothing to be sorry for! I just- can I keep it on?”
Jisung’s face flashed with confusion before he controlled it. “Of course, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
There was an awkward pause, and Minho kicked himself for ruining the mood.
Hesitantly, Jisung stepped a little closer. “Can I kiss you again sweetheart?” His voice was cautious and gentle.
“Yes,” Minho breathed, and he latched his mouth back on Jisung’s, kissing him urgently. Jisung kissed back just as passionately, if a little more controlled than before. Minho tried to convey how much he wanted him, tried to allay the hesitation he had unintentionally evoked in Jisung. He bit at Jisung’s lips, his hands roaming down to Jisung’s arse and squeezing. Jisung groaned.
Delighted with the reaction, Minho slid them around to the front, and palmed Jisung through his jeans. He gasped.
“Want this,” Minho whined against his lips as he gave his crotch a light squeeze.
“Fuck,” Jisung groaned, and helped Minho’s hands as they struggled with the zip. He grabbed something from the pocket before letting them fall to the floor with his underwear. Minho glanced at the items he’d retrieved – a condom and a little sachet of lube. He tried not to think of the implications of Jisung carrying them around – he was obviously just looking for and expecting a random hook-up.
Whatever, he thought as he eagerly drank in the sight of Jisung, now fully naked in front of him. He wouldn’t let that stop him enjoying this. He’d just have to make it good enough to sear into his brain for lonely nights to come.
Glancing at the defined muscles, rivets and crests of sculpted honey skin, Minho was glad he had kept his shirt on.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jisung asked gently.
Minho both hated him and loved him for being so considerate.
“Yes. Yes, please. I want you inside me. I want you to take me here, I can’t wait another second,” Minho breathed, unbuttoning his pants and dropping them with his underwear to the floor.
“Fuck,” Jisung moaned. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
And with that he surged forwards, pushing Minho against the door, knocking all thoughts out of his mind as he kissed him, hard and messy. As Jisung’s lips worked, his hand travelled down to Minho’s cock, grabbing it and giving it a few tugs.
“God, you are fucking amazing,” he murmured against Minho’s lips. “Look at your dick, your arse, your thighs! You’ve got the most amazing thighs I’ve ever seen.”
Minho blinked with surprise and pulled back to check Jisung’s face for signs he was joking. He seemed utterly serious, staring at Minho like he was the hottest guy on earth. Minho gasped at the desire in his eyes and wrapped his hands around Jisung’s neck, pulling him closer, wanting to be devoured by him.
Strong hands turned him roughly, pushing his front into the door with his body, hands squeezing and kneading at his arse as hot lips attacked the back of his neck, making him dizzy.
The lubed finger against Minho’s tight hole made him see stars.
Jisung was good with his hands. He knew exactly where to press, exactly when to add the second finger, then the third. He played Minho’s arse like it was his guitar, confidently, deftly, hitting every note in Minho’s body like he had played it countless times before.
Minho had no idea when Jisung had put the condom on, but he felt the throbbing heat against him as Jisung whispered in his ear.
“Ready lovely?”
Minho whined and wriggled his arse back. “Yes.” Then threw in a soft “please” for good measure.
Jisung groaned. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, as he adjusted and pressed in slowly.
Full. So full. Minho’s body cried out at the delicious assault on his senses, the stinging stretch of his arse, the callused hands grabbing his waist and pressing into the skin as he thrust in hard and fast.
“You take me so well sweetheart,” Jisung growled into him, “you’re so fucking hot.” He adjusted to pound into Minho’s prostate, thrust after thrust providing not a second of release from the overwhelming pleasure. It was so much. Too much. He thought he might explode, crying out with every scrape of Jisung’s dick against his walls.
“It’s. Okay. Baby.” Jisung panted into him, the words strained and laced with pleasure. “Let go darling. Let. Go.” He punctuated the words with thrusts so strong Minho was sure he would be ripped apart and Minho’s control was obliterated in seconds, the waves of glorious contractions pulsing through him as he painted the floor and door white. Jisung moaned deep in his chest and thrust in a few more times before he was twitching and grinding through his own release. He stayed pressed into Minho for a while, both panting hard, sweat mixing where their bodies connected.
Then Jisung pulled out and pulled off the condom. He looked around for his clothes.
Minho panicked, turning to face him, feeling weak and needy. This was his first time having sex in so long, even if it was only a one night thing he didn’t think he could bear Jisung leaving so soon after.
“You’re leaving?” he croaked, trying to hide his dejection.
Jisung chuckled, planting a little peck onto Minho’s pout. “No baby, I’m not leaving. I plan to have you at least 3 more times before the sun comes up.”
He pulled Minho in against him, kissing the top of his head. “How could I possibly leave when I have such a perfect sweetheart in my arms.”
Minho couldn’t help swooning at that, burying his face into Jisung’s chest as he guided them into the apartment, trying a few doors before finding the bedroom.
He lay Minho down on the bed before pulling away. Minho whined at the loss of contact, but Jisung was smiling down at him. “Relax angel, I’m just getting us some water.”
Minho suddenly realised he was parched, so let Jisung go without further complaint, enjoying the way Jisung sat behind him and pulled him to sit upright in his lap to help him drink when he got back.
He liked feeling so cared for, having someone else look after him after so long relying on himself. He basked in the feeling. Minho was physically bigger than Jisung, but he felt so small and vulnerable in the strong man’s arms. He tried to savour the feeling, to make it last.
When the water was empty, Jisung laid them back down, still cradling Minho’s body in his own, planting a little kiss on his nose and humming softly as they rested. Minho briefly thought he should put some pants on before he slept, but he was so comfortable here, and Jisung had seemed like he actually liked his lower body, so he didn’t bother. He felt his eyes flutter closed and let sleep claim him, comforted in Jisung’s secure arms.
When Minho woke, he felt Jisung’s arms around him, his naked skin warm against Minho’s own... Hang on, what? Where was his shirt? Minho looked around in a panic, and saw it thrown off next to him on the bed. He must have taken it off while sleeping. Curse his habit of sleeping without it.
He tried to wriggle a little to grab it, but Jisung was holding him firmly. It was at this point that Minho realised he was uncomfortably hard, hot cock lying rod like against his now bare stomach.
Jisung’s words from earlier echoed in his horny brain. I plan to have you at least 3 more times before the sun comes up. Well, how was he going to do that if he was asleep? As soon as Minho got his shirt back on he was going to do something about it.
But as Minho tried again to move from Jisung’s grip, the other guy hummed, sleepy but awake, moving lazy hands down Minho's chest. Minho shuddered and whined. Damn his stupid sensitive chest.
He forgot about the shirt for a few seconds as Jisung pushed him gently onto his back. The next thing he knew, Jisung was propped up over him, now fully alert, staring at his bare chest, his hands now eager as they explored it.
His gaze was intense, and Minho wanted to hide away. Jisung wasn’t supposed to see him like this.
But Jisung was staring with a kind of awestruck expression as he moved his hands more slowly over the skin, like he was fascinated by every curve.
“Wow,” he said simply, eyes drinking in every inch of his body, making Minho flush and squirm.
“You look so gorgeous Minho. Truly. Your body is so so beautiful.”
Minho wanted to protest, to start listing all the things wrong with it, but the expression in Jisung’s eyes stilled his tongue. He glanced back at his shirt, lying just within reach.
“Sorry,” Jisung breathed, “do you want to put it back on?”
Minho looked at Jisung, at his kind, understanding eyes that spoke volumes. At his concerned face, not judging, not coercing. Just waiting for Minho to let him know what he was comfortable with. And somehow Minho felt that Jisung would appreciate his body no matter what it looked like.
“No, that’s okay, I’ll keep it off.” Minho spoke softly, as if almost scared at the words that came out of his mouth.
Jisung grinned. “Thank god, I might have cried if you’d said yes. You’re seriously beyond stunning. It should be a crime to cover up all of that.”
Minho smiled shyly, landing a soft play hit on Jisung’s chest.
“I’m serious!” Jisung cried, “you should walk around naked all the time. The world would be a better place.”
Minho chuckled and checked Jisung’s expression to see if under the obvious exaggerations he was making fun of him. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his eyes, not a drop of mocking.
Jisung hovered over Minho, seeming to have to tear his eyes away from his body to look into his eyes. “Can I please touch your body? Oh god, can I kiss your body?”
Minho nodded, breathing a soft, “yeah,” to be sure.
Minho shivered as he felt Jisung lips against his neck, soft, wet and warm as they sucked little kisses down it. He felt the slightest brush of teeth on his collarbone and let out a little gasp.
Then the lips moved down, to lightly caress the scar on his stomach. Minho tensed up for a second. Jisung lifted his head to look at him.
“I had surgery when I was young,” Minho said, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry you had to go through something like that, especially when you were so young,” Jisung murmured. “What a beautiful reminder of how strong you were.” His hand gently ran over the raised skin. Minho glanced at him, incredulous, as he planted a featherlight kiss there, then moved back up to kiss Minho’s lips.
Minho was a mixture of confusion, disbelief and wonder. Jisung had spoken with so much sincerity. His heart fluttered.
The lips left his, and there was a pause, a beat of anticipation. Minho’s eyes closed, waiting with bated breath to feel where those lips would land next.
Fuck. Minho couldn’t help the desperate noise that escaped his lips as Jisung sucked down on his nipple, a coursing of electricity flooding through him. He was a live wire, sparking uncontrollably, raw and reactive, whining and moaning as Jisung moved to the other and used his hand to play where his mouth had been. God, it felt so fucking good Minho thought he might short out. How pathetic would he be if he came just from this? Because the more Jisung suckled and licked, squeezed and caressed, the more Minho felt himself losing control.
“Jisung- I-" he stuttered, gasping, the insecurity somehow managing to seep through the horniness.
Jisung pulled back when he didn’t continue. “Sorry, is this okay?”
Minho realised he was panting. Panting from lying there getting his chest sucked.
“I- yes, it’s good, really good- I just- I-" he paused, ashamed. “I might end up coming from this if you don’t stop.”
“Fuuuck,” Jisung groaned, “fuck, that’s amazing.”
“Just it’s been so long since I’ve let anyone touch me there, even my ex- hang on, what!?”
“That’s amazing. Like so fucking hot. Please let me make you come from playing with your chest.”
Minho was stumped. “But- I- why?”
“Good lord you actually don’t realise how hot you are do you? Here,” he grabbed Minho’s hand and pulled it down, “feel that? That’s how fucking hard I am just from hearing you and touching you.”
Jisung was hard. Rock hard and already leaking. Minho’s eyes widened.
“So respectfully, I don’t want to hear any of this fucking bullshit whatever fucking arsehole has planted in your brain. Your body is ridiculously hot, everything it does is hot, and I won’t have you questioning my brilliant judgement again.”
Minho lay stunned for a second. Jisung seemed genuinely outraged that Minho thought of himself that way. “Okay,” he murmured.
“Good,” Jisung said, satisfied. “Now I’m going to go back to worshipping your amazing chest, because the thought of making you cum like this is fucking haunting me.”
Jisung bent down, placing a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. He stared into Minho for a second and Minho felt totally exposed and vulnerable- but he liked it. He didn’t feel scared by it like he normally did.
And then Jisung’s lips were back on his chest and all coherent thought left his brain.
It was good. So good. Better than that, but Minho’s mind wouldn’t currently provide him with any more fitting adjectives. He could definitely cum just from this, but- he didn’t want to. His brain was short circuiting and suddenly he felt the overwhelming desire to be closer to this man who was making him see stars. To make him see stars, to make him come undone.
He felt a strange feeling in his chest. It was a good feeling, but one he didn’t feel often. He struggled to place it. Then it hit him. Confidence. He was feeling confident. And Jisung must be a magician because how had he got Minho to feel like this, like he could take Jisung apart? He wanted to try at least, to test what he could do, because Jisung writhing below him was an image he needed cemented in his brain.
Minho knew he was rusty. Before tonight it had been almost a year since he last had sex. And before that the sex had been… mediocre at best, Minho too insecure to do anything but lie there – except the occasional blow job. Those he had never been criticised on.
Come to think of it, that might be a good place to start. Build this new found confidence up a little more.
So, taking a breath of courage, he grabbed a hold of Jisung and flipped them.
Jisung landed on the bed with a gasp, eyes wide as he stared up at Minho in shock.
“Oh!” he breathed, and he looked so turned on that Minho couldn’t resist leaning down to claim his lips greedily. His lips moved ravenously, tongue joining Jisung’s, pressing down into him as it worked, trying to taste all of him.
Jisung’s loud moans and the feel of his dick, so unbelievably hard, spurred Minho on, and he felt that sliver of confidence get thicker.
He moved down to Jisung’s nipples, licking over them and biting slightly. Jisung squirmed.
Okay, he could definitely do this. Jisung was like putty in his hands, clearly lapping up everything Minho put out. He worked his lips down further, until they were positioned just above Jisung’s cock. It twitched, leaking invitingly. He glanced up at Jisung, and didn’t even have to ask before he was stuttering a breathy “Yes. Please.”
Minho took his time, licking stripes up the base, flicking his tongue over the top. He relished every shaky breath, every whimpering moan he managed to draw from the guitarist’s lips, using them to fuel the feeling growing in his chest.
Without warning Minho ducked down and took in as much of Jisung as he could, hollowing his cheeks and sucking down. Jisung let out a guttural groan and started pulling at his hair desperately.
“Wait, wait a sec, I’m gonna cum!”
Minho had half a mind to take that literally – to only pause for a second, then have the satisfaction of making Jisung come undone so easily, of feeling his cum run down his throat - but the want for the guitarist to fill him up was stronger.
So he pulled off, moving back up Jisung’s body, surveying the man below him. He looked truly fucked out – panting, hair dishevelled and sweaty, look of absolute bliss on his face. And Minho had done all of that. Had made this guitarist - who was so hot and had so much charisma, who had been with so many people before him - come undone like that. But he was hungry for more.
Jisung seemed to agree, and pulled Minho in with those strong arms, rough hands dragging with just the right amount of friction over his skin. He met his lips yet again, and god, now Minho thought he might be able to come from merely kissing Jisung. Honestly, Minho wasn’t a big fan of kissing. He found it wet and a little disgusting to taste the other person so intimately. But with Jisung… it was different. He couldn’t get enough.
He felt the throbbing of Jisung’s cock against his own, and ground slightly against it. Jisung groaned, kissing him harder.
Minho was so consumed by this man, so undone by him. Not surprising really, since he’d been entranced since the moment he saw him. He had to have him again. Like ten minutes ago. And Jisung seemed so into it that he found himself saying something he never would have expected to come out of his lips.
“Wanna ride you,” Minho breathed into Jisung’s ear.
“Fuuuck,” was the low, desperate response.
Minho smiled and reached behind himself to test. “Might need some lube though,” he said, a little shy.
Jisung seemingly pulled some out from thin air.
“Popped it under the pillow just in case,” he admitted at Minho’s awed expression.
Minho squeezed some out and set to work, opening himself quickly as Jisung kissed down his neck, then moved to his chest. The feeling of wet warmth dragging over his nipples again had him releasing strings of whines into the night as he judged himself ready.
He grabbed Jisung’s rock hard cock and rolled a condom on quickly, lathering it with lube. Jisung groaned, throwing his head back onto the bed. Okay, this was it. It was time to put this new found boldness to good use.
Jisung loves your body, Minho told himself. Jisung would love to see it perched on him.
Minho lifted a little and positioned Jisung below him. He sank down slowly, taking his time to adjust until Jisung was fully inside him. The stretch was glorious and he felt so full.
“Fuck. Fuck. Minho. Fuck!” Jisung moaned.
“Good?” Minho asked, even feeling a little smug at being able to fluster Jisung so much.
“Yes, fuck!”
Minho started to move, first slowly rocking his hips, teasing, as Jisung continued his stream of profanities, then fully pulling himself up and dropping down hard. Jisung cried out, writhing and grabbing the sheets. Minho continued, building his pace and riding Jisung’s cock like he was made for it, like it hadn’t been almost 2 years since he had tried this position.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. What did I do to deserve this?” Jisung groaned as Minho ground on him.
Minho chuckled, so pleased with Jisung’s reactions, so pleased that he was the one causing them. Because he could have said the same about Jisung.
Jisung’s groans morphed into a string of wailed profanities and he was shuddering with the force of his orgasm within minutes. Minho focused on his cries and the brush on his prostate as he reached down to grab himself and let go too. Waves of pleasure wracked his body as his release hit Jisung’s chest. He slumped down, exhausted, feeling floaty and tingly.
He hopped off tenderly and passed Jisung some wet wipes, before lying down against the pillows, sweat dripping off his face.
Jisung wriggled over until his head was resting on his chest.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t normally like to lose control, so that was really refreshing.”
“You don’t like to lose control? Like during sex?”
“I mean, yeah. But also in life in general. I feel like if I’m not in control, something bad will happen, you know?”
Minho looked at Jisung curiously. Maybe he had some issues of his own. Maybe they were more alike than he thought. He tried to think about what Jisung might mean. He really wanted to be able to be understanding – Jisung had been so accepting of him.
“Hmmm, like if you aren’t carefully constructing everything you say you might hurt someone?”
Jisung looked up at him, eyes shining with awe. “Yeah, like that. Or if I’m not who they want me to be, they’ll leave or reject me. So I have to make sure that I keep myself in check.”
Minho couldn’t help running a soothing hand through Jisung’s hair. “Oh, that sounds exhausting though.”
“It is. It really is.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and Minho brushed it away.
“I mean, I know I’m a random stranger, but you don’t have to be in control with me,” he murmured. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”
And Jisung’s tears soaked into Minho’s chest as he hugged him tighter.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The morning rays of light woke Minho gently, and he glanced down at the man still encased in his arms. Jisung’s head still rested on Minho’s chest, hair splayed. His face was squished up and it looked absolutely adorable. Minho found himself wanting to coo at him. Was this the same man who had railed him against the door last night?
As if he felt Minho’s gaze, Jisung’s eyes blinked open blearily and he smiled up at him softly.
“Hi,” he said, voice rough. “I- I’m sorry about last night. I don’t usually cry after sex I swear.”
Minho smiled warmly. “No need to apologise, really.” Minho meant it. It felt good to have someone be so vulnerable with him after he had allowed himself to be vulnerable. He felt weirdly connected to Jisung. But this was just a one night stand, he shouldn’t get too attached.
Minho expected Jisung to move away, but he didn’t, choosing to stay pressed to Minho’s chest. The physical contact was nice. It was nice to feel warm, bare skin against his own. It was nice waking up to someone like this. Maybe he should start dating again, Minho thought to himself as he rubbed his hand lazily over Jisung’s back.
An ant crawled past on his bedside table. Minho reached out to squash it.
“Shit,” he said, “better spray again.”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be an ant?” Jisung said thoughtfully.
“Like ant man?” Minho suggested.
“No, not like him, just like, a regular ant. It must be terrifying to have all these creatures walking around that are like a thousand times bigger than you, never knowing when one of them is going to step on you or squash you, when you’re just trying to do your job and collect food for your colony.”
Minho took a second to think through his surprise. “No, I haven’t. It must be awful.” Minho felt a little bad now for squishing it.
“Do you think that’s how God feels about humans? If there is a god.”
Minho looked down at Jisung, wondering if this was normal post coital conversation for him.
“I don’t really believe in god,” he said simply, “but if there is some higher being out there, yeah, I think we’d seem as insignificant as ants.”
“It’s kind of a depressing thought really.”
“I guess. But I like to think of life being about connection you know? About people, and animals. Little moments of happiness you create with them and for yourself. I think if people focused more on helping other people instead of some being in the sky, then we’d all be better off.”
“That’s a nice way of looking at it,” Jisung murmured, falling silent for a while.
A few beats passed, Minho focusing on the glorious feeling of Jisung’s chest rising and falling against his.
“I have trouble with connection though,” Jisung murmured. “I find it hard to make friends, real friends. I’ve been rejected by people very close to me, and it made it hard for me to open up with anyone.”
Minho glanced at him in surprise. “Really? But you’re so…” amazing, hot, caring, interesting, honest, real, Minho’s mind reeled off. But he couldn’t say that, not without seeming like he’d gotten too attached. “Nice,” he settled on eventually.
Jisung chuckled, and it was a little bitter. “That. That depends on who you ask.”
Minho wanted to ask more about it, but his stomach growled angrily.
“We better feed your gorgeous body,” Jisung said, propping himself up and giving Minho a little peck on the lips. “I’m just heading to the bathroom, I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”
Minho nodded, ecstatic that Jisung wanted to spend more time together. He pulled on some tracksuit pants (but decided with a triumphant feeling to leave his shirt off).
As he started making pancake batter, his mind wandered. Jisung seemed to be really open to him, someone he would most likely not see again. Maybe this could be more than just a one time thing? No, Minho shook his head, trying not to get useless hopes up. Why would Jisung want to start something with him when he could have anyone else?
Minho’s thoughts were interrupted as Jisung’s voice graced his ears.
“How can I help?” he said.
Minho glanced over, and almost dropped his whisk. Jisung had thrown on his tank top, but didn’t seem to be wearing anything else. Everything was covered, but just barely.
And yes, they had both been literally naked together a few minutes ago, but something about Jisung being mostly naked in the kitchen, while they were going to be making food – well it was driving him slightly insane.
Jisung chuckled fondly and repeated his question.
Minho finally pulled himself together to assure him it was okay, but Jisung insisted.
As Jisung reached up to grab the flour from the top shelf, Minho got a full view of his perfect arse.
Holy fucking shit. Minho could do nothing but stare, open mouthed, at the honey skin presented right in front of him.
He felt the blood rush to his cock and he tried to take a mental picture. This was A grade fap material. Not to be wasted.
Jisung turned and saw him gaping. He chuckled again. “You’re too cute, really.”
He lifted his arms above his head, and did a little twirl, showing off everything. Minho tried to think past the throbbing in his pants.
Jisung smiled as he went back to sifting the flour, and Minho hesitated for a second, before deciding that if he only had this smoking hot man for one day, he may as well get over himself and do everything he wanted.
Minho walked over to Jisung, pausing before pressing against his back. Jisung hummed at the feel of Minho’s hard cock against his arse, and stilled as Minho ran his hands over Jisung’s stomach, then his chest, slipping under the loose fabric to the skin. He pulled them out to roam downwards, until they reached the hem of the shirt, and Minho kissed the back of his neck as he dipped his hands beneath it, running up Jisung’s thighs and grazing lightly over his hardening dick.
Jisung moaned, hands stilling as Minho held him.
A thought crossed Minho’s horny brain, and his dick jolted in want.
“Oh?” Jisung breathed, “what did you just think about?”
“Hmm, nothing,” Minho lied, embarrassed.
“Your dick just like… spasmed, you must have been thinking something.”
“I, uh.” Minho fiddled with the hem of Jisung’s shirt. “I- uh, I- I was just thinking how it would feel to be buried inside you.”
“Oh?” Jisung said again. “How do you think it would feel?”
And Jisung was pressing his arse back into Minho. A helpless groan slipped out.
“Amazing. So amazing I think I’d explode. Your perfect arse laid out for me, around me, wet and hot, squeezing every sane thought from my brain.”
“Fuck,” Jisung said, pushing back further, rubbing his bare arse against Minho’s barely covered cock. Minho whimpered, already seeing stars.
“Why don’t you do it then,” Jisung murmured, now grinding back into him with more force.
“I- fuck,” Minho struggled to comprehend with Jisung rubbing against him.
“Why don’t you bury that huge dick inside me, make me forget my name?”
“Fuck.” Minho was sweating, precum pooling at his tip. “I- would you be okay with that?”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t,” Jisung said lightly. “So why don’t you show me how you can make me come undone?”
“Shit,” Minho grunted, and pulled his cock out of his pants, groaning as the air hit the wet tip.
He spread Jisung’s cheeks, and rubbed his leaking dick over the hole, jolting at the feeling. Jisung let out a whimper.
“One second,” Minho grunted, and pulled his pants back up before sprinting to the bedroom to grab a condom and lube, cursing himself for not having them stored in various areas around the apartment. He chuckled at that as he fumbled with the drawer. There was no need for secret lube stashes, this literally never happened to him.
By the time he got back to the kitchen, Jisung was adding baking powder to the flour, and Minho gaped at the sight – how could Jisung be focusing on pancakes right now?
He stepped into his space again, pressing himself against the other man, running greedy hands over his body. Jisung shivered at his touch. Minho hitched up the tank top, already lubed fingers playing around his hole. Jisung hummed, and Minho kissed the base of his neck as he carefully inserted a finger.
Jisung gasped a little, pausing before wriggling a little to loosen himself. Minho worked him open eagerly, using the sweet sounds falling from Jisung’s mouth as encouragement and guidance.
When he finally lined his aching dick up against him, Minho paused. He was so worked up he thought he may not even last long enough to get fully inside.
But Jisung was wriggling back impatiently, and Minho lost it.
Fucking into Jisung was something else. Up against the kitchen counter, Minho’s hand on his chest to hold him close as he ground in slowly, moaning with every inch, mind consumed with tight heat. Jisung was a whimpering mess, and Minho loved it just as much as when Jisung had so confidently taken him to pieces the night before.
Minho increased his pace, and Jisung was crying out as he hit his prostate again and again. Minho grabbed his chest, squeezing the pecs as he thrusted.
“FUUUCKK, Minho shit, fuck!” The cry was like a shot of white hot lust to his brain, and he found himself losing his grip on reality, totally lost in the heat and pleasure.
Jisung’s cries as he came, untouched, cum spouting up to land on the counter triggered Minho’s own orgasm, and his legs almost gave way with the force of the contractions. He hadn’t cum this hard this many times since… well, ever.
Jisung was certainly something else. A sex god maybe, sent to earth to give pleasure to lonely men.
Jisung slumped against the counter, panting heavily. Minho pulled out gingerly, and Jisung turned and pulled Minho forward, kissing him almost desperately.
“Thank you,” he said dreamily when they parted. Minho gazed down into the huge, starry eyes and felt something inside him flutter. He quickly squashed it down. This was a one night stand.
He tore his eyes away from Jisung to the counter behind him.
He gaped at the bowl of flour, now laced with wet white globs of cum.
“How about we order in instead,” he suggested, gesturing at the bowl and breaking into peals of laughter. Jisung joined him, slight red dusting his cheeks.
As they ate, they talked about their lives – Minho learnt that Jisung had just finished university, had just moved back to the country. He listened fondly to Jisung’s rambling stories of life in Australia, asking questions and laughing along to the jokes. He opened up about his job, sharing stories that he normally tried to forget. But with Jisung, it felt so easy to share. Like he wouldn’t judge.
“Did you like the food?” Jisung asked when they finished, almost apprehensive. He had been the one to choose it.
“Mmm… could have been better honestly. Think we should have stuck with the cumcakes,” Minho replied, keeping a straight face with difficulty.
“The cu-" Jisung started, confused, but interrupted himself as his brain caught up. “Oh my fucking god! You’re not suggesting…?”
“What!” Minho laughed at the disgusted look of Jisung’s face. “I’m sure they would have tasted great, extra protein too.”
Jisung grimaced. “You’re feral. I don’t think I can ever eat anything you cook in case it has a cum surprise inside.”
“A cum surprise,” Minho chuckled. “Sounds amazing.”
Jisung hit him with a couch cushion.
They played a few games of Monopoly Deal, and Jisung’s thinking face was just so cute, the puffy cheeks, the pouty bottom lip. It was amazing that this was the same man with the sculpted muscles who had made love to an entire crowd last night.
“It’s not fair,” Jisung whined, sticking those lips out even further.
“What isn’t?” Minho replied, pulling himself out of his wonderings.
“You’re not fair.”
Minho laughed. “What?”
“How can you simultaneously be both the cutest guy ever and the hottest guy ever?” Jisung sighed in frustration.
Minho just stared at him, blinking slowly.
“What the fuck?” he said, after a beat.
“What, it’s true!” Jisung was indignant now.
“No– I– I was literally just thinking the same thing. What the fuck?”
“You were thinking you were the cutest and hottest guy ever? Valid. 100% agree.”
Minho giggled. “No, I was thinking you were.”
He paused, face serious, looking into Jisung’s eyes intently.
“Lee Jisung. Did you just read my mind?”
“Lee?”
“I don’t know your last name,” Minho shrugged. “Lee Jisung, tell me now, have you been hearing my horny gremlin thoughts this whole time?”
Jisung giggled. God he was cute.
Minho reached out a hand to tickle his tummy. “Did you hear about my plan to take over the world with my cat army?”
“No!” Jisung shrieked, laughing and batting at his hand. “No, I swear I didn’t! All I heard was that you like to sniff cat bums, and hey, I don’t judge!”
With that Minho launched a full scale tickle attack, adjusting to position himself over Jisung and making him scream with laughter.
“I surrender, I surrender!” Jisung yelled.
“So you’ll get your sneaky mind out of my head?”
“Yes, yes. No more mind reading!”
Minho stilled his hands. “Well, okay then.”
He looked down at Jisung, face flushed beautifully and eyes dancing with mirth. God, he was gorgeous. He leant down to kiss him slowly, warm and gentle, and full of entirely too much feeling for a once off thing.
He pulled off once he got too in his head about it, suggesting a movie instead.
Eventually, as the credits rolled on the movie, hours of the day having drifted past like a warm spring breeze through a field of flowers, Jisung checked his phone and sighed.
“My brother is wondering where I am,” he said, sighing again.
Minho nodded in understanding. This was it then. This was the end of this unbelievable experience. He tried not to be bitter about it ending. Tried to tell himself he was lucky to experience it in the first place, to feel like this with someone again. He shouldn’t push it. Shouldn’t want more.
But he did. He wanted to see Jisung again. Wanted to fuck him again, sure, but also to talk to him, laugh with him, just be in his presence.
But, even though he felt all this, to Jisung, this was a normal, casual thing. Something he did all the time by the looks of it. By the sachet of lube in his pocket.
“I guess I should get going,” Jisung said, standing up and hovering nearby, looking strangely unsure.
“Yeah. I’m sure you have a lot to do. It was fun, thank you,” Minho replied, smiling at him and hoping that the slight heartbreak didn’t show in his eyes.
There was an awkward pause, where Minho had now begun debating how desperate he would seem to ask for Jisung’s number despite everything. No. It was clear that he was merely one in a long line of hookups. He was under no illusions about this being anything more… well, his brain wasn’t. His heart on the other hand…
But maybe Jisung wouldn’t be opposed to doing this again? Maybe he would grace him a second night. Maybe he should ask for his number…
Jisung moved to the bedroom, and Minho thought (obsessed) about it while the guitarist changed. He had had such an amazing time – but he didn’t want to make Jisung uncomfortable by asking for this to be more than it was. He didn’t want Jisung to feel obligated to contact him again.
And if he did contact him again, how would Minho know whether it was out of obligation or if he really wanted to? He would never be able to tell, always be wondering…
And really, why would Jisung want his number? He could have literally anyone. And Minho was, well, Minho. He was flawed, and he was self-conscious about it. Jisung was full of life and passion and deserved to be with as many people as he wanted, to have hot steamy sex with hot guys from the bar every night.
So, though it fractured his poor lonely heart, he decided it was better to have a clean break. He shouldn’t interfere with Jisung’s lifestyle.
“Did you… ah… enjoy yourself?” Jisung asked, coming back into the room, now fully dressed, obviously looking for anything to say to break the silence.
“It was amazing,” Minho smiled. “I hope I was up to your normal standard.”
“My normal… what?” Jisung’s eyebrows creased.
“Sorry, that came out weird. I just meant like I hope compared to your other… one nighters, I wasn’t too much of a let down.”
Jisung’s face twisted with something dark. When he spoke his tone was flat, emotionless.
“You weren’t, don’t worry.” He gathered his keys and phone, pausing at the door. “I’ll see you then. I mean, I guess I won’t… but yeah, okay, going now.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
1.5 years ago
The door opened, and Yunho waltzed into Minho’s apartment.
“Hey babe,” he said casually, “working out again?”
Minho just grunted, mid plank.
“It’s so weird,” Yunho said lightly. “You work out so much but your muscles aren’t that defined. I mean, you don’t even really have abs.”
The familiar sinking feeling pulled at Minho’s stomach.
His face must have reflected some of his thoughts, because Yunho added, “it’s not a bad thing. Just an observation. Guys who work out so much normally have a better chest, better stomach.”
Minho sank deeper.
“I guess it might look better if you didn’t have your scar. Have you ever thought of trying to reduce it or get it removed?”
“No,” Minho breathed through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry me having life saving surgery made me unattractive to you.”
Yunho snorted. “C’mon babe, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s just I know you’re insecure about it, and there might be a way to fix it. Not like your UFO nipples.” He laughed in a way Minho supposed was intended to be joking. “Those we just have to accept.”
Minho tried not to let it get to him. It’s not like it was the first time he was hearing these comments from Yunho, so why did they still hurt so much? Why did they claw at his stomach, dragging it down, down, into the vat of hopelessness.
It’s not like Yunho was trying to make him feel bad – he was just trying to help Minho. Yunho’s underwear model body was beyond perfect. He just wanted Minho to better himself so he wouldn’t feel so self-conscious next to him.
And he was so considerate of Minho’s insecurities. It had been his suggestion for Minho to just leave his shirt on during sex, to make Minho more comfortable. He always tried to help with diet tips and workout routines. He was so supportive, so understanding.
Even with sex, Minho wasn’t great at a lot of things, and whereas his previous partners had not even bothered to tell him, Yunho was willing to even give suggestions on how he could be better.
He was grateful for his boyfriend, really. He was lucky to have someone like Yunho love him. Not many people would.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Present
Minho stared at the dishes in the sink. Specifically the bowl of unfinished pancake batter. Specifically Jisung’s cum splattered inside.
An intrusive thought invaded his mind, and he shook his head, disgusted in himself. No, he was not going to reach out and scoop it up to taste it. First, it had been hours since it landed there. Second, there was a level of pathetic about the idea that Minho wasn’t willing to submit to just yet.
That didn’t stop him from getting hard thinking about that morning as he looked at the gloopy mess. The kitchen scene played back in his mind like his own personal porno, and he lost himself in the vivid memories.
He could feel Jisung's hot skin smooth in his strong grip. Could feel the pressure of his perfect arse around his cock, the warm heat that drove him crazy. Hear the glorious moans and gasps falling from his beautiful lips.
Minho shifted uncomfortably. He shouldn’t have let himself entertain those thoughts, because now he was so hard, so horny, that he felt desperate. Pathetic.
An urge overcame him, clawing inside his brain until it was all he could think about. He walked away, trying to distract himself, but he was too far gone.
He was alone. No one would see. No one ever had to know. Sighing at himself he pulled out his aching cock and started pumping, groaning at the feeling.
It really didn’t take long. Within a few minutes he was grabbing the bowl, spilling his own release into it, covering Jisung’s cum flour mix.
He stared down at it, at their cum together. He had wanted to see it for some unknown, probably deranged reason. But suddenly he was extremely sad. This would never happen in real life. Their jizz would never get to mix. Minho would never get to have sex with Jisung again.
Desperately fighting off the disappointment, he tipped the gloopy mess into the bin and set about washing the bowl. It was a good step. Needed to be done. Just like the sheets that smelt of Jisung needed to be changed. Just like his body needed to be washed. And like that, Jisung was cleaned from his life.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“So, how was it?” Hyunjin asked without so much as a greeting as they started stretching. Minho glanced around the empty studio, checking for students or faculty.
“It was amazing,” he said, flexing his legs and blushing at the memory.
“This was your first time since Yunho right?” Hyunjin asked cautiously.
Minho nodded, not really wanting to bring up memories of his ex.
“I’m proud of you,” Hyunjin said, voice dripping with sincerity.
Minho scoffed to hide how much the words meant to him. “You’re proud of me for letting some guy pound me into next year?”
Hyunjin smiled softly. “Yes, I am. Really proud. And you know why.”
Minho did.
“So are you going to see him again?”
“I didn’t get his number.”
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“It was clear it was just a one night stand for him. Just because it meant something to me, doesn’t mean I should bother him.”
“What if he wanted to see you again?”
“He didn’t. I mean he didn’t ask for my number either, so,” Minho shrugged. “I’m just chalking it up to an unforgettable experience and moving on.”
“Oh, so you’re going to start sleeping with people again? Or do you mean dating?” Hyunjin’s eyes were hopeful.
“Maybe dating, maybe sex, who knows. But it was nice. Made me want that again.”
Hyunjin patted him on the back jovially. “That’s so good Minho, I’m so happy to hear you say that.”
Minho grimaced exaggeratedly, but the words settled gently on his heart, comforting it like a warm blanket.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho must have some kind of disease.
A week passed and he could not stop thinking about Jisung. Could not stop getting hard randomly as thoughts of him drifted into his mind. It was as if a sex switch had been turned on in his brain – after so long of not really wanting anything of the kind, of hardly ever getting horny, now he was like a teenager again, rubbing one out a least once a day. He even got his old toys out, pretended it was Jisung he was sitting on top of, Jisung he was pushing into.
It was invigorating and heart breaking all at once. Because he knew he would never see Jisung again. He really regretted not getting his number, even if it was to tee up some kind of fuck buddy situation.
But Jisung hadn’t asked for his number either, he reminded himself again when the disappointment got too strong. Jisung hadn’t wanted to see him again anyway.
Still, he found himself pondering going to the bar where they met. Maybe Jisung would be there. Maybe he would want Minho again, grant him one more night.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The bar was busy on the Friday night that Minho finally gave in. He perched on a stool near the bar after an unsuccessful first sweep of the area, sipping a gin and tonic. The band was playing, sans Jisung, and Minho couldn’t help thinking how much the younger guitarist had improved their line up.
An hour, he told himself. One hour he would sit here, and then he would give up on Jisung forever. If it was meant to be, if Jisung’s dick was meant to be in his arse again, then he would walk through the door. If not, Minho would let go any hopes he had of a repeat occurrence.
A few people approached him over the next 60 minutes. A few women, blissfully ignorant at the futility of their attempts until Minho had to spell it out to them, and even a few men, who Minho politely declined. Murphy’s law would have Jisung walking in while he was in the middle of hooking up with someone else.
But, Jisung didn’t walk in at all, even though Minho stayed an extra hour just to be sure.
Eventually he had to admit defeat. Probably a good thing, as Jisung would have probably come here wanting to try someone different, and Minho might have forfeited all dignity and begged him for a second night together. So although disappointed for the lack of blue haired musicians, at least Minho could keep his appearance as a cool guy who understood and respected Jisung’s preferences for casual, once off sex.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The avocado face mask was cool on Minho’s face. He applied it quickly, before passing the bowl to Changbin and grabbing a handful of M&M’s. Chan was stretched out next to him on the rug, lazily shoving chips into his mouth.
“Where’s your brother tonight?” Changbin asked as he finished putting on the green goo. “I thought he came back last week?”
“Yeah, he did,” Chan replied with a grimace. “He’s probably out somewhere.”
“How has it been? How’s he settling in?” Minho asked curiously.
“It’s been… interesting. He’s a lot more confident and outgoing than I remember. Within his first few days back he stayed out all night, came home in the afternoon the next day smelling like sex.” Chan shook his head in what seemed like disbelief.
“I tried to ask him about it but he just muttered something about ‘some arsehole’ and slouched off to his room.”
Minho looked at him in shock. “Woah, hang on, I thought he was 16? He shouldn’t be out all night, let alone… you know.”
Chan looked at him strangely. “He’s 24…”
“What? I’m sure you told me he was 16.”
“I mean I did. 8 years ago when me and you first met. When he was 16.”
Changbin laughed. “Oh god, is Minho only just now realising that people age?”
“Shut up, of course I know people age… I just guess in my head your brother never did, because I never met him.”
“Well you probably will soon, he’s hard to miss.”
Changbin chuckled. “Well, I’m excited. The guy sounds cool. Much cooler than you two nerds.”
“Getting drunk and having sex doesn’t make you cool Changbin,” Chan said, at the same time as Minho blurted, “Hey! I have sex!”
Changbin ignored Chan to laser focus on Minho. “Oh, you have sex do you? When was the last time huh? Like a year ago?”
Minho huffed dramatically. “Actually I had a one night stand the other night.”
Changbin’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, you actually did? And you didn’t tell us? What the hell Minho!?”
“What was I supposed to do? Finish up and send a ‘just had earth shattering sex’ to the group chat while we cuddled?”
“It would have been appreciated, yes.”
Minho threw a pillow at him. Chan cackled.
Changbin was undeterred. “So, details please. How was it? Who was it? How did this happen?”
Minho sighed. “If you must know… I went out with Hyunjin two weekends ago, and there was this band playing.”
“Oh, were they any good?” Chan interrupted.
“We don’t care about the fucking band!” Changbin snapped at him, before turning back to Minho.
Minho grinned. “They were pretty good actually. Especially the guitarist.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Changbin's mouth dropped open. “No way, you scored with a member of the band?! Okay you have more game than I thought!”
“Firstly, ew, secondly… he was like… so ridiculously hot I couldn’t stop staring at him. He must have noticed cos he came over and bought me a drink. Then after he finished his set we got… very hot and heavy and ended up going back to mine.”
“And? How was it?”
“It was like the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. It was-" he stopped to compose himself, already getting worked up just thinking about it. “It was so good – like I can still feel him inside me, still feel-"
He was interrupted by a sound at the front door.
“That must be Jisung,” Chan said and Minho startled at the name, before remembering that Chan’s brother shared a name with the very guy he was talking about. Weird coincidence, he thought, before turning to look at the guy who’d just walked in.
Holy fucking shit.
There he stood, in the doorway, blue hair falling casually over his forehead, skin tight jeans trailing into big black boots, leather jacket thrown over a very low cut shirt.
Minho’s brain stopped working.
But Chan was speaking, greeting the guy with a friendly, “Hey Sungie!”
“Sup Chan,” he replied nonchalantly.
“These are my friends,” Chan said, gesturing at them. “This is Changbin, and this is Minho.”
Jisung nodded at Changbin, before shifting his eyes down to Minho.
Minho’s heart stopped.
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, and he stared at Minho with a blank expression. Minho suddenly became aware of the sloppy avocado mask on his face, of his hair in pigtails and held back by a fluffy bunny headband. Of the old stretched and faded t-shirt covered in chocolate stains.
He wanted to combust.
“Guys, this is my little brother Jisung,” Chan finished.
This could not be happening. Why, out of all the men on this earth, did the best fuck he’d ever had have to be Chan’s little brother?
The universe must hate him.
Suddenly, Minho realised everyone was staring at him. He looked around in confusion.
Changbin chuckled. “Don’t mind Minho, he’s just a bit flustered. He was in the middle of telling us about the mind-blowing, life changing sex he had with the hottest guy on earth.”
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. How much humiliation was he supposed to take?
Jisung looked at him, smug smirk taking over his face. “The hottest guy on earth huh?”
“I never said that!” Minho hissed, trying to fight the redness taking over his body.
Changbin scoffed, “please, the way you were talking about him was like he was some kind of sex god.”
Jisung’s grin grew wider. “Oh, please continue, I’d love to hear about this ‘sex god.’”
Minho could only stare at him, wishing he could melt into the ground.
“He was in the band,” Changbin chimed in, “fucked Minho real good.”
Jisung chuckled, but it wasn’t the bright and free laughter he had heard the last time they met. It was harder somehow, cold. “Sounds like an amazing night. So did you get this guy’s number?”
Changbin scoffed, “Of course he did, my man has some game.”
Minho couldn’t meet Jisung’s eyes. “Actually no, I didn’t.”
Changbin just stared at him. Jisung’s grin hid something dark.
“The guy was obviously only after a one night stand. I wasn’t going to make things awkward by trying to pursue anything.”
“What makes you think he only wanted a one night stand?” Jisung said, all pretence of humour gone.
“Well I mean we met at a bar, and hooked up after talking for like one minute. And he carried a condom and lube in his pocket. And he’s just… that type you know.”
“What type?”
“You know, the type to not want anything serious.”
“A fuckboy?”
“I mean yeah. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Minho added hastily.
Chan cleared his throat. “Don’t you have something you need to be doing Jisung?” he said pointedly.
“Not really,” Jisung said with a shrug, “but I get the message.” He turned to go up the stairs. “I’ll be in my room. Nice to meet you Changbin. Minho.” It was said lightly, but why did it feel so… hostile?
“Your brother really is cool,” Changbin said in awe after he’d left.
Chan made a face at him.
“Seriously, I think I’m developing a crush, he’s so fucking hot,” Changbin continued, and Minho could tell he was only half joking.
Something ugly squirmed in Minho’s stomach.
Chan scrunched up his face. “Ew Bin, what the fuck? He’s my little brother, that’s so wrong. Plus, he’s straight.”
“Wait, what??” Minho’s voice came out way too loud. Jisung was straight? Surely not. What the fuck was going on?
Chan looked at him strangely. “I mean I’ve only ever seen him with girls or heard him talk about girls.” He shrugged. “Now can we please stop talking about my brother in that way? It makes me uncomfortable.”
Changbin dutifully changed the subject to a new band he’d been listening to, and Chan visibly relaxed.
Minho did not.
He was floundering. Treading water and barely just keeping his head from going under. A part of him was just happy to see Jisung again. But Jisung was Chan’s brother. He had fucked Chan’s brother. And now he had to see him and pretend it had never happened. But how was he supposed to do that when thinking about that night still made him hard within seconds? When he was still so hopelessly attracted to him?
Should he have just told everyone they’d fucked? That would make all this easier right? And maybe then he could ask Jisung for another night together... But there seemed to be some weird tension between the brothers, and Chan had NOT reacted well to Binnie even suggesting something along those lines… No. He couldn't go there again, as much as he wanted to.
Plus, there was the issue of Jisung being straight? What the fuck was that about?
But, that one he could get answers for. Minho fidgeted through the movie the others put on, not really listening at all, attention instead focused elsewhere.
Eventually he heard footsteps moving down the hall above and hastily muttered something about the toilet before rushing upstairs. He ran into Jisung as he was emerging from the bathroom. Minho grabbed his arm and dragged him back inside, shutting the door.
“I know I’m hot, but this is a little inappropriate don’t you think?” Jisung said with a dark smirk.
Minho flushed scarlet. “That’s not what- I-" Jisung chuckled. “I just want to talk,” Minho said.
“Let me guess, you want me to keep our fuckathon secret from good old Channie boy?” Jisung said, sighing.
“I mean, yes, I’d rather he didn’t know.”
“Of course. Don’t want to risk him abandoning you too.”
“Huh?” Minho was confused.
“You really don’t remember do you?”
“Remember what?”
Jisung sighed and shrugged. “Guess I didn’t realise until after I saw you here with Chan either.”
Minho stared at him, stumped. What on earth was Jisung on about?
“I don’t know what you mean by that. But-"
“Don’t worry,” Jisung interrupted, “and I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”
Minho grimaced at the phrase but thanked him all the same.
Jisung moved towards the door, but Minho reached a hand out to stop him.
“One more thing… you’re straight?” he questioned.
Jisung’s face contorted with surprise and confusion, but he didn’t answer.
Minho took his lack of response as confirmation. Anger started to bubble up in his stomach.
“So what, I was some kind of experiment or something? You decided you wanted to try out fucking a guy and used me?”
Jisung smirked but there was something dark underneath the cockiness. “Did it seem like it was my first time with a guy?” Jisung looked pointedly down at Minho’s crotch, eyebrows raised.
Minho could almost feel the shadow of Jisung’s arse around his dick. He flushed furiously and looked down. Jisung chuckled.
“You’re not my first guy, don’t worry. And I don’t identify as straight. I don't label my sexuality at all. Don't want to put myself in a box, you know?”
Minho could understand that he guessed. Everyone had a right to identify as whatever they were most comfortable with, and if Jisung hadn't found that yet, who was he to judge? But still… “Chan obviously thinks you're straight though. Why not tell him the truth?”
Jisung’s face hardened and the words that followed were tinged with venom. “Chan’s decided to think of me as straight huh? I should have known.” He scoffed, then seemed to resign himself. “Anyway, does it matter? He can think whatever he wants about me. I barely know the guy.”
Minho frowned at that. Seemed like things were worse between the Han brothers than he’d thought.
“You don’t want to get to know him? He’s your brother,” Minho said, more gentle.
Jisung scoffed. “Yeah, and he made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Even if he hadn’t, he's made zero effort with me for the past 8 years. Forgive me if I’m not jumping at the bit to try to get to know him when he clearly doesn’t want that and clearly doesn’t care.” Jisung’s voice wavered on the last few words, and he angrily pushed past Minho, out the door.
Minho stared after him, mind whirling.
He thought back to the Jisung from the other night, sweet, affectionate, open. The Jisung he met today was cocky, angry and walled off. What had happened to make him so different? Minho found himself thinking about it through the rest of the movie.
As the credits were playing and they were heading upstairs to sleep, Jisung brushed past them in the hallway, same outfit as before but now with his hair slicked back and dark makeup around his eyes.
“Where are you going?” Chan asked, surprised.
“Out,” was the response. His eyes glared at Chan, challenging.
“Okay, stay safe,” the elder replied.
A crash in the hallway woke Minho. He blinked at his phone, eyes bleary. 4am. Great. The crash was followed by giggles. Not just one voice, but two. He stilled, straining to hear more.
Footsteps stumbled up the stairs. Someone fell and let out a little scream. A woman. Then a clearly slightly intoxicated Jisung whispering, “Shhhh, my brother’s having a sleepover with his friends.”
“Oh, a fun one like ours?” the girl asked, giggling.
“No, not like ours baby,” Jisung replied, “now come here, I wana taste you.”
The sound of Jisung’s door shutting echoed in Minho’s mind, along with the words. Taste you. Taste you…
There was a pang in his stomach, which he tried to dismiss. Minho rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. He really did. But the moans and whines coming from Jisung’s room were too hard to ignore.
Firstly, because they were loud. Minho didn’t know what they were doing in there, but from the sounds of it, Jisung was as amazing in bed with this woman as he had been with him.
Secondly, hearing someone come undone at Jisung’s hands made Minho remember their night together, and that alone had him hardening uncontrollably. His fingers itched to touch, to give himself relief. Luckily his mind was stronger.
Lastly, the whole situation stirred up disturbing feelings in the pit of Minho’s core. He had absolutely known that his interaction with Jisung had been a one time thing. He knew it from the start. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel a trickle of jealousy drip into his stomach, sloshing around there with the M&M’s. He wanted to be the one screaming out Jisung’s name in ecstasy.
“Fucking hell,” Chan grunted from the bed he was sharing with Changbin. Minho hurriedly glanced down to make sure his crotch was covered before letting out an awkward chuckle to let Chan know he was also awake.
“I’m so sorry Minho,” he said grumpily, “you shouldn’t have to hear this.”
Minho shrugged in the darkness, though Chan probably couldn’t see. “Don’t worry about it hyung, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s really not. I shouldn’t have to hear my brother having sex, and you’re a guest! It’s unacceptable.”
“I’m a guest now am I?” Minho said lightly, trying to ease some of the tension in the air. “Thought I’d stopped being a guest years ago. Or was all that just so I’d help you wash the dishes?”
Chan grunted. “Whatever, it’s still not okay. I’m gonna go knock on his door.”
“Chan! That’s so embarrassing! You can’t do that!”
“He shouldn’t be having sex where we can all hear it!”
“Where else is he supposed to have sex huh? This is his home right?” Changbin’s voice was raspy and exasperated. “Would you prefer he did it in a public bathroom, or the back of someone’s truck or something?”
“But-”
“Sometimes, when you live with other adults, you’re going to hear them have sex. It’s basically inescapable,” Changbin added with a slightly sour expression. Minho wondered how much he had heard from his housemates.
“Still, they should be quieter,” Chan insisted.
“Give him a break, he’s young and obviously a little tipsy. It’s the middle of the night, he probably thinks we’re asleep. If it was daytime, I’m sure he’d turn his music up or give you some warning or try to be more quiet or something.”
Chan looked like he’d run out of rebuttals.
“I still shouldn’t have to hear it,” he said, looking disgusted.
“Well, we’re all awake now, why don’t we put some music on to drown it out? He sounds like he’ll be going for a while.” Changbin uttered the last statement with a hint of awe.
He fumbled for his phone and turned on a relaxing playlist. All but the loudest cries were effectively silenced.
Chan sighed. “I hope he doesn’t make a habit of this.”
“It’s twice already right? The arsehole and this girl?”
Three times, Minho thought to himself. The arsehole, this girl, and me.
Minho thought about that. Chan had said Jisung had hooked up with an arsehole pretty soon after he got back. Jisung had told him when they hooked up that he’d only got back recently. So what, had he fucked another person the night after him or something? He knew their night was a once off, but it had meant so much to Minho. It had been the best sexual experience of his life. So to think it meant so little to Jisung, that it must not have satisfied him at all, that he ran off so soon to fuck someone else… The thought made Minho burn with something ugly.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Chan was making them pancakes, a kind of tradition for them, when a girl stumbled into the kitchen. The girl, Minho assumed. The one Jisung had made scream his name in ecstasy the night before. She looked ruffled, hair sticking up at odd angles, eyeliner a little smudged, but she was gorgeous. Curves, long, thick hair, big, blinking eyes and soft swollen lips. A string of hickeys littered her neck. The three of them gaped at her for a second, and she stared back at them, blinking rapidly, before Chan sprang into action.
“Hi, I’m Chan, Jisung’s brother. These are my friends, Minho and Changbin.”
“Jessica,” the woman replied, still a little thrown.
“Nice to meet you. Do you want some pancakes?”
The girl looked very confused. “Uh, no thanks, I just came to grab some water, then I’m heading off.”
“Oh, right.” Chan grabbed a glass and filled it. “Here you go.”
Minho didn’t think he’d ever seen someone drink so fast. Within seconds Jessica was handing the glass back and awkwardly excusing herself.
When the door closed behind her, Changbin let out a chuckle. “Your house has become a lot more interesting Chan hyung.”
Jisung came downstairs as they were eating. His hair was also ruffled, and he was wearing an oversized shirt. Minho couldn’t tell if there was anything underneath.
His mind reeled with memories. Jisung in the kitchen. Jisung wearing nothing but his tank top. Jisung letting him fuck him slowly from behind. The feel of his dick completely enveloped in tight heat… shit, he really needed to stop thinking about this. He was already getting hard.
“Morning,” Jisung said cheerily, voice a little hoarse.
“Morning,” Changbin replied, smiling widely, eyes sweeping over Jisung’s barely clothed form. Chan grunted and nodded. Minho froze for too long and lost his chance to respond.
“Sorry if we woke you up,” Jisung said, a little sheepish. “Didn’t realise we got so loud. Next time I’ll do it down here or something.”
“You’re going to do it in the kitchen?” Chan squawked, appalled.
Jisung shrugged and grinned, “don’t tell me you never have?”
Chan blushed bright red. “Please keep it in your room. I’ll buy some ear plugs or something.”
Minho was only half listening. He was transfixed by Jisung’s shirt hem, staring at it, both willing it to lift so he could see what was underneath, and willing it not to, afraid that he would get a full hard on at the dining table in front of Chan and Changbin.
He watched as Jisung reached to get a glass from the cupboard. He saw two inches more of smooth thigh, but nothing else. He felt eyes on him and looked up. Jisung was staring at him, a knowing, smug look on his face. Like what you see? it seemed to mock.
Minho flushed and shoved his mouth full of pancakes.
Jisung draped himself in a spare chair at the table. “By the way,” he said conversationally, “I’m starting up a garage band.”
Chan dropped his fork. “What? Why?”
Jisung shrugged. “Why not? It will be fun.”
Chan looked at him, incredulous. “You’re just doing this to pick up girls aren’t you?”
Jisung’s eyes hardened almost imperceptibly.
“Trust me, I don’t need help to pick up.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “Though I guess it does make it easier. Some people seem to have a thing for musicians.” He looked straight at Minho as he said the last part. Minho flushed and looked at his feet.
“I dunno Jisung. It will be loud. I’ll think about it.”
Jisung chuckled, “I wasn’t asking you so much as telling you Chan.” He hopped up and walked off, frustrating Chan by stealing the last word.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Jisung didn’t waste any time organising his band. The first sounds of music drifted through the house only a week later, while Minho, Chan and Changbin were watching a movie.
Chan heard it and rolled his eyes. “Great,” he muttered, turning up the volume on the huge tv.
Minho found it hard to concentrate though, even though it was so loud. He thought back to Jisung on that stage. He played so well, had so much charisma. He longed to see it again.
His chance came a few days later. They were in the pool this time, messing around, escaping the heat when the noise started up from the garage.
Chan groaned. “Sorry guys,” he said, “so much for a peaceful afternoon.”
“Why are you sorry?” Changbin asked, looking genuinely curious. “I think they sound pretty good. Especially since they just started.”
“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Minho agreed. He hesitated, then added, “actually I wouldn’t mind going to watch for a bit.” Thoughts of Jisung playing in his band had been plaguing Minho’s brain almost every waking moment since he had started.
“Great idea hyung,” Changbin crowed, “I’d love to see Jisung in his element.” He wriggled his eyebrows.
Chan splashed him. “You guys seriously want to watch?”
“I mean yeah, why not? I’m curious, and it would sound much better from inside.”
“Fine, let’s go then.” Chan pulled himself out of the pool with practised ease, and grabbed a towel to dry off. Changbin and Minho did the same.
Once dry, Minho bent down to pick up his shirt.
“You don’t have to get dressed man, it’s just the garage,” Chan said, amused.
Minho froze, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for being so shy. It had taken him a long time to be comfortable enough to go shirtless around his friends after Yunho, and he knew this would make them worry. But he couldn’t meet new people without it.
“I uh- I have a lot of bacne, it’s pretty gross, don’t want anyone to see it,” he explained weakly.
Changbin tried to peer around him. “I don’t see anything,” he said, confused.
“It’s there okay! Just let me wear my damn shirt!”
Changbin held up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, sorry.”
They entered the garage through the house door, not wanting to disturb the band by opening the roller doors. It wouldn’t have mattered, Jisung stopped playing as soon as he saw them.
His eyes held a defiant challenge as he glared at Chan.
“This is my house too,” Jisung said, practically bristling. “It’s the middle of the day, and we checked with the neighbours, they don’t mind.”
Chan looked taken aback.
Changbin glanced at him, before speaking up, “that’s great Jisung, but we actually just came to watch, if that’s okay.”
Jisung’s eyes widened. “You… want to watch?” He was still looking directly at Chan. Chan nodded.
A strange expression passed over Jisung’s face. “Okay,” he said, simply.
There was a beat of strange tension, where they all just stared at each other.
Changbin (bless him) was the one to break the silence. “I’m Changbin,” he said, grinning widely. “And this is Minho and Chan.”
“I’m Seungmin,” said a tall guy with braces and floppy brown hair. “I play the keyboard and help with vocals.”
“Felix, bass,” said a small, cute man with a warm smile.
“And I’m Jeongin, I’m on drums,” the last guy said, eye’s disappearing into his smile.
“And what do you play?” Changbin asked Jisung, stepping closer to him in the guise of interest, although it was pretty clear from the guitar he was holding.
“I’m lead guitar and vocals,” Jisung said, slight confusion flickering across his features as Changbin entered his space. Minho didn’t miss the way Jisung’s eyes ran down Changbin’s shirtless torso. Changbin didn’t either.
“I’d love to hear you,” he said, “play I mean.” Minho held in a snort. Did he really have to lay it on so thick?
“I can give you a private concert later if you like,” Jisung replied with a wink.
Okay what the fuck? Were Changbin and Jisung going to be a thing? Seeds of jealousy sprouted in Minho’s heart. He felt a strong urge to yell something at them to get them apart. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Chan was marching angrily up to the two men and pulled Changbin away roughly.
“Nope, not a chance,” he said harshly.
“C’mon Chan, don’t be so uptight, we’re just having fun. And would it really be the worst thing in the world?” Jisung smirked.
“I don’t even… aren’t you straight?” Chan looked at Jisung, eyes crazy.
Jisung shrugged. “If that’s what you’d like to think. Not really any of your business though,” he said petulantly, before turning to the band. “Let’s play. Wonderwall, from the top.”
Chan and Changbin quickly moved away as the music started. There was an old couch nearby, stored there when the Han’s had upgraded, so they sat on that and watched the performance unfold.
Watching Jisung play in the garage was different to watching him on stage in front of an audience. That’s not to say he wasn’t captivating. He was, entirely, just in a different way. At the bar he had oozed charisma for everyone to see. Here, it was more intimate, and in a way, even more sexy and alluring. He wasn’t thrusting around or flipping sweaty hair off his face, but he was fully absorbed in the music, smiling genuinely as he played and interacted with his friends. And that smile, so full of joy and warmth and affection… that was the smile from their first night. That was the Jisung he knew. Minho felt himself slipping further under his spell.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Jisung’s band was heading out that night.
“We should go too,” Changbin whined, “we never go out anymore.”
“It’s a Sunday, we have work tomorrow,” Chan said. “And I’m tired, and don’t really feel like watching my brother get smashed and make out with some girl all night.”
“When did you become such a grandpa?”
“Pfft, don’t be so rude to grandpa’s, I know plenty of them that know how to let loose and have fun.” Minho chimed in, smirking at the betrayed look on Chan’s face.
“Seriously though, we should go out soon,” Changbin said. “Oh! Are Jisung’s band doing any gigs? It would be so cool to go see them play and make a night of it.”
“I have no idea,” Chan said, “and I’m not sure I like how much interest you take in my brother.”
“What, am I supposed to just ignore him? He’s objectively hot, and talented. Right Minho? Back me up here, Jisung is smokin.”
Minho started. He had clammed up at the very mention of Changbin’s attraction to Jisung. “Uhhhh, I mean – I guess – objectively.” He desperately begged his ears to stop heating up.
Changbin looked at him weirdly, then grinned. “See? Look how flustered Minho is just thinking about him. Point proven!”
“Whatever, you guys are messed up. He’s my brother, stop perving on him. Leave that to the randoms Casanova is probably hooking up with as we speak. Oh!” Chan got up suddenly, rummaging in a bag nearby.
“Here, I got you these,” he said, throwing something to each of them. Minho looked down at the small box in his hands.
“Ear plugs?” Changbin said, confusion evident in his voice.
“Yeah, in case the fuck boy brings someone home again.” Chan’s voice was laced with judgement.
It was silent for a few seconds. Then Minho couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Chan hyung,” he said, a mixture of curiosity and sadness, “why do you dislike him so much?”
Chan scoffed. “Are you kidding? He’s insufferable. Like somehow in your space but also rude and standoffish. And so arrogant and blasé. He never takes anything seriously, including all the people he fucks.”
“He’s young, he’s having fun. Maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Minho shrugged. “You should try spending some time with him hyung, get to know him again.”
“He’s in my face all the time, it’s impossible not to know him.”
“You can’t possibly think that this cocky persona is his whole personality,” Minho said, voice quiet. He had been thinking about this a lot. How Jisung had talked about controlling his actions, not letting people see the real him. How it seemed like that was what he was doing with Chan, with all of them.
Chan just stared at him, flabbergasted. “When did you become such a Jisung expert?” he said, looking a little betrayed.
“I just- I think you’ve judged him without trying to get to know him. I think he’ll surprise you. Just give him a chance.”
“Yeah, true,” Changbin chimed in. “We were all pretty bad when we were younger too. Don’t be so judgemental.”
Chan glared at them both but didn’t retort.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
This time, it was around 5am. The familiar stumble up the stairs, the hushed voices and giggles. Minho glanced at the ear plugs next to the bed. He really should put them on, he knew what was coming. Still, he hesitated, torn. On one hand, hearing Jisung fuck someone else made him insanely jealous. Like, ready to storm into the room, grab whatever girl and get her off his Jisung jealous. On the other hand, the sounds were so hot and hearing them set Minho on fire. And though maybe (definitely) that should also have been a reason for him not to listen, he found himself leaving the ear plugs and settling in, ears straining for any kind of sound except his own breathing.
“Oppaaaa,” the girl whined, high in her throat. Minho cringed. The word and the tone grated on his nerves. Maybe he should grab those ear plugs after all. His hand twitched towards them, but Jisung let out a loud groan and it stilled.
“Baby,” Jisung’s voice was deep and rough. It set something vibrating under Minho’s skin. Something insatiable. Memories of Jisung saying that word to him travelled from his hippocampus to his dick.
“Can I fuck you?” Jisung was always so sweet, always checking for consent, always making sure his partners were okay. Minho’s heart twinged along with his already hard cock.
“Uh, yes, give it to me! Give it to me Jiseng!” Minho almost went limp right then. Give it to me? Did this girl think she was in a bad porno? And she couldn’t even pronounce Jisung’s name right. What was he even doing with this chick?
She’s probably mindlessly hot, his brain replied. And in the end she’s just a hole to fill, just someone to provide Jisung some short term pleasure. Just like you were.
Minho grabbed the ear plugs.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho’s eyes were bleary and his mouth was a desert. He almost felt hungover though he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. Internally groaning, he rolled out of bed and headed to the kitchen downstairs to grab some water.
As Minho let the cool liquid flow into his glass, he heard a noise behind him. He turned around and promptly choked on air. There stood Jisung, in nothing but his form fitting underwear, outrageous muscles covered in a sheen of sweat, hair mussed and eyes mischievous.
“Morning,” he said casually, as Minho finally managed to breathe again.
His eyes roved down to Minho’s Hello Kitty pyjamas. “Cute,” he added with a smirk.
Minho wanted to evaporate.
“For god’s sake Jisung, put some clothes on!” Chan’s voice echoed through the room as he came to stand near Minho. “Can’t you see I’ve got friends over?”
“Oh, I don’t think he minds,” Jisung said, winking at Minho and chuckling to himself as he left.
Minho just stood, unable to move, unable to stop the flushing of his face or the interested twitch of his dick.
Chan looked at him apologetically. “Sorry about that,” he said, “I’ll have a talk to him.”
“Who are you talking to?” Changbin grumbled as he made his way into the room.
Chan sighed. “Jisung. He was walking around in his underwear. And… flirting with Minho? I dunno, just being a menace as usual.”
Changbin glanced at Minho. “Damn, can’t believe I missed it. Let me know next time yeah? Need some good food in the morning.”
Minho managed to recover enough to nod and give an almost convincing smile.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho wasn’t sure if Chan had talked to Jisung or not.
Either he had and Jisung was rebelling against any kind of censure of his body, parading it around even more. Otherwise Chan never got around to it, because Jisung had apparently decided he was allergic to shirts.
Over the next few weeks, almost every time Minho saw Jisung, regardless of whether he had brought a girl home the night before (which most nights he had) his huge pecs, with the little, perky nipples, were staring right at Minho’s face, taunting him. He longed to reach out and touch them, longed to run his hands all the way down Jisung’s naked torso.
And what made it a hundred times worse, was that when Jisung caught him staring - which was obnoxiously frequently - Jisung would get this smug smirk, like he was subtly mocking Minho, flaunting himself out of reach and enjoying seeing Minho malfunctioning, flustered and panicked. It was infuriating, humiliating but also somehow even more hot.
It was to the point that Minho started to wonder if he had some kind of humiliation kink, or was fond of being edged. Being so horny all the time and not able to do anything about it made him incredibly frustrated, which seemed to turn him on more . Needless to say, there were a lot of sessions spent alone in his room, imagining Jisung’s body finally on his after all the teasing, or Jisung’s cocky, demeaning grin staring down at him as he debased himself at his feet.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho was rock hard. He had a veritable diamond rod in his pants. This was not unusual of course, morning wood was extremely common, but for some reason now when it happened at Chan’s Minho was embarrassed about it when he hadn’t been before.
Maybe because now he sometimes saw Jisung in the morning, and being this hard seemed humiliating. Maybe because when he was alone he would use thoughts of Jisung to deal with them. Maybe he’d just gotten more self conscious.
Anyway, Minho had decided to go to the bathroom to deal with his problem after unsuccessfully trying to will it away or flex his muscles to redirect the blood.
He walked along, definitely not thinking about Jisung pushing him against the wall and fucking it away. He was totally focused on the real hallway in front of him, of course, not some imaginary one in his head. So focused in fact, that he didn’t notice the bathroom door open and someone step out. That is, until he had bumped into him, lost his footing and sent them crashing to the ground.
Minho must have walked into some kind of cheesy rom com. Or a drama. Cliched shit like this just didn’t happen in real life. People didn’t fall on top of their crushes, didn’t end up face to face, bodies pressed against each other.
Except Minho could feel Jisung’s hot, mostly naked body against his own. He could see the wide, shocked eyes blinking up at him in a way that made his brain stutter and short out. Could smell his breath, minty fresh against his face.
They both just lay there for a few seconds? minutes? lifetimes? and then Jisung was chuckling, whining up at him. “Hyung, it’s great that you’re so happy to see me, but your boner is kind of stabbing me right now.”
The cold crash of reality broke over Minho’s head. He scrambled up, blushing furiously, then reached a hand out to help Jisung up. And Minho definitely wasn’t looking, but he somehow caught a glimpse of Jisung’s dick under his towel as he maneuvered himself off the floor. That in itself was enough to drive him crazy, but seeing that it was a little hard? Minho was deranged.
“Sorry, bathroom-” Minho spluttered elegantly.
Jisung grinned. “Enjoy.”
Minho staggered through the door, and oh, he did.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho let himself into Chan’s and strolled down the hallway. Chan had already messaged to say he would be home late, and to just hang until then.
As he approached the living room, he heard loud laughter ringing out.
Minho stopped in the doorway, where could just see Jisung and his band members playing on the switch.
Felix and Jeongin were exaggeratedly stretching before their turn at Just Dance, and Jisung was in the corner doing a little cheer routine for them.
His fluffy hair bounced as he jumped up and down, moving his arms dramatically.
“Gimme an F! Gimme an E! Gimme an L! Gimme an I! Gimme an X! What does it spell? My one true love!” Felix was beamed through his laughter, clutching his hands to his heart as he watched Jisung roll imaginary pom poms around. “Gooooooooo Jeongin!!!”
“Hey!” Felix yelled, shocking Minho with how deep his voice was. He ran over to Jisung and tackled him down onto the couch, jumping on top of him and tickling him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I meant go Felix!” Jisung screamed out between breathless laughs.
Minho couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. They were so cute, so carefree, so adorable. This Jisung was the one he had seen the first time they had met, the real Jisung , Minho liked to think. Funny and playful. He found himself just standing, staring, warmth and fondness springing to life in his chest as they eventually untangled themselves and started the round.
Felix was actually a pretty good dancer, despite Jisung standing at the side doing the most ridiculous over exaggerated moves and cracking them all up. He was in the middle of a flamboyant turn when he saw Minho standing there and stopped abruptly, almost stumbling.
He stood, staring at Minho and Minho watched as his expression hardened in real time.
Felix glanced over to see what Jisung was looking at.
“Oh! Minho!” he called out cheerfully. “Want to come and join us? I don’t think Chan is home.”
Minho hesitated. He would actually love to see more of this Jisung. He was addictive like sugar. But Jisung was looking horrified at the mere suggestion.
“Nah, I’ll mess up the teams if I play, but thank you,” Minho said, smiling warmly.
“There’s no teams, we’re just versing whoever. C’mon, it will be fun. And you’re a dance teacher right? You can teach us haha.”
Minho glanced from Felix’s friendly face to Jisung, who was still staring at him.
They met eyes and Jisung sighed exasperatedly and shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Minho doubted that from the way Jisung was still glaring at him, but he decided to push the boundary a little, see if he could get Jisung to show the other side of himself while he knew Minho was watching.
It was a rough and awkward start. Minho watched as Felix and Jeongin finished their round. Jisung sat perfectly still just watching them, nothing like his antics from before.
Felix kept shooting weird glances at his friend as they played.
“Okay, Jisung, Minho hyung you’re up!” Felix said too loudly when they finished.
“That’s okay, I’m just gonna watch,” Jisung said stubbornly.
Felix shrugged. “Okay, Minho hyung and Seungmin then.”
This was Minho’s chance. He was going to break that icy shell no matter the cost to his dignity.
The music started, and Minho grinned at Seungmin before launching into the most extravagant moves he could manage, making sure to get in Seungmin’s way as much as possible.
“Hey!” Seungmin grunted when he moved only to bump into Minho.
“So-rry,” Minho sing-songed unashamedly.
“Move!” Seungmin yelled when Minho effectively blocked his view of the screen.
“Whoops.”
“Minho!” he screamed, clearly about to punch someone in anger.
This time Minho just shot him a smug grin.
Felix and Jeongin were cackling away, but still no reaction from Jisung.
Seungmin finally lost it and pushed Minho out of the way. He fell on top of Jeongin, both letting out little shrieks before almost crying from laughter and clutching each other.
That’s when Minho heard Jisung giggle. It was soft at first, then it grew gradually louder until it was a full blown laugh. It sounded like warmth and victory. Minho glanced back at him, feeling triumphant, but his grin faded as he caught sight of Jisung’s toothy, heart shaped smile and bunched up cheeks, his eyes shining as he gazed at him despite being pushed into tiny crescents. Minho’s heart stuttered dangerously. Fuck.
“Minho? What are you doing?” Minho started. He hadn’t even heard Chan come in.
He scrambled up quickly. “Was just playing while I waited for you,” he said, trying not to feel irrationally guilty. “Thanks guys,” he said and waved at them as he followed Chan down the hall.
The smile had vanished from Jisung’s face the moment he heard his brother’s voice.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The sun was hot on Minho’s skin and he walked a little faster, eager to hop into the cool pool. He could hear Chan and Changbin already shouting and laughing as they splashed around. As he opened the pool gate, he heard a grunt and snapped his head towards it.
Jisung was working out at a little home gym he had set up in the shade. Shirtless. His muscles gleamed with sweat, and Minho swore he could make out individual droplets tracing down the golden skin.
Minho’s imagination was running wild. Him, licking those sweat droplets off Jisung’s body, tasting the salty goodness, making him squirm. And Minho was falling into the thoughts. Falling. Falling. Falling.
Minho’s stomach dropped as the ground disappeared beneath his feet. He hit the water with a splash, flailing around, spluttering as water went up his nose.
Changbin’s laugh rang out over the water surface. “Did you-” he gasped, “did you just fall in the pool?”
Minho glared at him, flipping his sopping hair out of his eyes.
His friends were in hysterics, struggling to breathe from laughing.
Minho was a tomato. He glanced over towards Jisung, who was also chuckling, pretending to be focused on his workout.
“How’d you manage that?” Chan was saying, remnants of the giggle fit still lingering.
“I didn’t-” Minho started, before realising denial was futile. “I was distracted.”
Chan’s eyebrows shot up questioningly and he turned to look around.
“By thoughts of my cats!” Minho cried, too quickly and too loudly. “My mum just sent me a video.”
“Oh, cute, you’ll have to show me after,” Chan said, smiling warmly.
Changbin just shot him a smug, knowing look.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The next weekend was scorching. Minho peeled himself out of bed and headed straight to Chan’s.
Changbin was already there.
“Knew you two would show up,” Chan said gleefully. “So predictable.”
“We just missed you so much Channie hyung,” Changbin fake sobbed.
“Pining for your company, withering away without being in your presence,” Minho added, swooning.
“Oh yeah? What if I told you the pool is out of action because someone screwed up the chemicals?”
“What?!” they both exclaimed.
“I think Hyunjin’s friend has one,” Minho said pulling out his phone.
“I’ll try Jacob,” Changbin added.
Chan hit them both with his cushion. “The pool is fine arseholes. I was just highlighting your duplicity.”
“Highlighting our duplicity? Have you been reading the dictionary again hyung?” Minho chuckled.
“You really should get out more,” Changbin added.
“Shut up and get changed, dickheads.”
When they reached the pool side, they found Jisung, Felix and Jeongin already there, yelling and splashing each other. Chan looked at them both for a second, hesitating, but Felix had already seen them.
“Hey guys!” he called brightly, beaming smile on his face, “come and join, it’s so nice in here!”
Changbin grinned and stripped off his shirt, bombing into the pool. Chan lingered a minute longer, before Changbin jumped out and basically wrestled him into the water. Minho stood there, awkwardly.
Being around Jisung’s mostly naked body, having to pretend he wasn’t staring at it all day… that sounded like a form of torture. Maybe he could pretend to have something to do and go home? No, no one would buy that.
“Come on,” Jisung called, looking at him, challengingly, “Or is kitty scared of the water?”
Kitty? The last time Jisung had called him that they had been making out furiously on the dancefloor. He flushed involuntarily. Maybe getting in the water was a good idea, it would stop his face from lighting on fire.
He paused a second longer, looking at the other guys with their chiselled chests and abs, and decided to leave his t-shirt on as he jumped in.
The shock of the water did wonders to cool him from the fiery thoughts blazing in his mind. They smouldered out almost entirely as he did a few little doggy paddles around.
“Why’d you keep your shirt on?” Changbin asked unsubtly.
Minho grimaced, trying to ensure Changbin didn’t start something in front of the other guys. “The UV is pretty bad today,” he said, as casually as he could manage. Changbin looked like he was going to argue but thought better of it.
They splashed around for a while, Minho sticking near Chan and trying to ignore Jisung’s ridiculous body in his periphery. Changbin chatted to the others, flirting shamelessly with Jisung and laughing fondly at Felix and Jeongin.
After a while Changbin’s loud voice boomed over to them, “hey guys, let’s play chicken fight! We normally only have 3 of us so we can’t, now is the perfect opportunity!”
“Why don’t you four just play?” Minho called back, wanting to keep as far away from dangerously hot mostly naked younger brothers as possible.
“Come on, we can make 3 teams and have a tournament. It’ll be fun!”
Chan sighed. “Fine,” he called back, then turned to Minho. “C’mon Minho, you know he’s not going to shut up about it until we play.”
Minho matched the sigh and moved over to where the others stood.
“Excellent!” Changbin crowed. “I bags Jisung’s team!”
Chan looked horrified. “Why don’t we play a game to decide teams so it’s more fair.”
They ended up doing rock paper scissors and if two people showed the same sign they were a pair. Of course, such was Minho’s luck that first round, he threw scissors and so did Jisung.
“Okay, Minho Jisung team,” Chan said, clearly pleased that it wasn’t Changbin with his brother.
Felix and Changbin ended up paired, and Jeongin and Chan.
They both decided quickly to have Jeongin and Felix ride on their shoulders. Jisung was not as co-operative.
“I think you should hop on my shoulders hyung,” he said. Chan shot him a strange look. Minho could almost see the words flash through his mind. He doesn’t call me hyung.
Minho gulped, hoping Jisung would be less obvious.
Chan scoffed. “Sure, if you guys want to lose,” he said. “You may have more flashy muscles Jisung, but Minho is a dancer. If you saw his thighs…”
Jisung looked at Minho, and Minho almost thought he’d developed some kind of mind reading power. Oh, I’ve seen his thighs, Jisung’s smirk said, I’ve seen them ride me. Luckily, he didn’t voice the thoughts, instead sighing exaggeratedly and relenting with a “fine, I guess I’ll top.”
Minho shot a warning glare at him.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Since when was this game so erotic? Minho thought, desperately trying to hold onto his composure as Jisung perched on his shoulders. His board shorts had ridden up scandalously high, and Minho could feel the bare skin of his thighs resting against his neck. As he moved, Jisung’s dick jostled against the back of his head and Minho might be losing it but it felt a little hard. He desperately tried not to think about that, very conscious of his own dick, barely kept at bay by the coolness of the water and his panicked brain trying to distract him.
The muscles of Jisung’s thighs squeezed around Minho’s neck as he tensed to land a heavy push on their opponent, Felix. Minho held back a gasp at the pressure, closing his eyes so no one would see his eyes roll back in his head. He took a deep, steadying breath and looked straight ahead at Changbin, who was holding Felix up. Changbin. Focus on Changbin, he instructed his brain, even as Jisung shifted to dodge a blow and rubbed a definitely semi hard dick against his hair.
Knowing this was turning Jisung on as well was the last straw for Minho’s poor dick. He felt it heat up, stiffening in his board shorts and he desperately hoped everyone was focused on the boys fighting instead of his crotch. He prayed for the game to be over quickly, before realising he could actually influence that.
He charged forwards, straight at Changbin, and luckily Jisung understood in seconds and tensed again, coiling, ready to push at just the right moment.
Felix screamed as he toppled off into the water.
Jisung cried out in victory and slid off Minho, beaming wide and hugging him. Minho froze, shocked, Jisung’s jacked arms squeezing him tight and making him feel like all oxygen left his body.
His joy at winning seemed to wear off as Jisung came back to himself, and he let go with an awkward throat clear, standing in front of Minho as he proceeded to tease the others for losing.
He was still very close to Minho, and Minho wondered for a second why he didn’t step away. Why he was standing so very close, back almost pressed against him. Then he realised.
Minho’s cock was very hard. If Jisung moved away, the others might notice and he would never live it down. Which meant two things. First, Jisung must have felt how hard Minho was when he hugged him, and second, Jisung was protecting him, shielding his crotch so the others couldn’t see.
Minho’s heart jumped and did a silly little flip.
Knowing Jisung had his back made Minho more comfortable and confident. He accepted that he might get hard - I mean, it was only natural with a hot guy on top of him, right? - and focused more on the game. He and Jisung worked well as a team, and even though Chan and Jeongin were both strong contenders, they managed to outmanoeuvre them, co-ordinating their movements without even speaking, and sending Jeongin toppling off within a few minutes.
Minho initiated their victory hug this time, and it felt so good to have Jisung in his arms again. He couldn’t explain it, he just felt so right there. His heart pounded as Jisung once again shielded his hard on, and Minho smiled gratefully at him when their eyes met.
They were watching the battle for last place together (losers had to pay for pizza) when Jisung leant over to whisper to him. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?”
Minho’s dick lurched at the same time he panicked. “The sun…” he started weakly.
Jisung looked pointedly at the sky, which was orange with the glow of sunset.
“It’s okay if you would rather leave it on. Just you know, if you felt like throwing a man a bone and gracing his eyes,” he wiggled his eyebrows and Minho smiled nervously. He looked at Jisung, real Jisung – sweet and funny and caring, who made Minho feel comfortable, made him feel attractive.
He turned and stripped off the shirt, standing, heart beating, as Jisung very obviously raked his eyes down his torso.
“Gorgeous,” he said with a smile. Minho blushed.
Once the drama of the competition was over (Chan and Jeongin won) Minho felt Changbin’s eyes on him, taking in his now bare chest. His friend shot him a beaming smile, looking almost proud, but didn’t mention it.
If the others noticed his change in attire they didn’t comment. Their behaviour to him didn’t change at all, and Minho found himself relaxing, forgetting he was so exposed and enjoying himself.
The only person who seemed to care about his body in the slightest was Jisung, and his eyes were far from disgusted – instead they devoured his skin hungrily.
They stayed in their board shorts while they played mario cart, Jisung cheering deafeningly when Minho managed to beat Jeongin.
“Fucking finally, someone to hand his arse to him and wipe that smug smirk off his face!” he crowed, hi-fiving Minho and nudging him playfully.
Jeongin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you should be this pleased that you have to get your brother’s friends to beat me.”
Jisung seemed to sober at that, and Minho wondered why the sudden change in demeanour.
It didn’t last though, thankfully, and the group moved on to karaoke, taking turns to sing while the others joined in or munched on pizza.
The sounds of Creep drifted through the tv, and Jisung and Minho both stood at the same time.
“Oh, you can sing it if you want,” Jisung said, sitting back down.
Jeongin gaped at him in shock. “What? Han Jisung letting someone else sing a Radiohead song? Are you feeling alright bro?”
He reached out a hand to feel Jisung’s forehead. Jisung swatted him away, flushing slightly.
Minho stared at him. “No, here, you do it, you’re a much better singer than I am.”
They looked into each other’s eyes, and Minho got lost for a second. It was like everything else faded away except him.
Felix cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, there’s two mics guys.”
Minho chuckled. “Right, of course.”
He handed one to Jisung and took one for himself.
“I don’t care if it hurts, I wana have control,” Jisung screamed into the mic. Minho took over. “I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul.”
The song always made Minho emotional, but singing it with Jisung felt freeing. He felt understood, and his mind soared with his voice as they turned to each other to sing the chorus together.
Jisung didn’t go out drinking, didn’t hook up with anyone that night. He fell asleep in the middle of a movie, head resting on Minho’s shoulder until Chan carried him up to bed.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho might have gotten a bit carried away with Jisung the day before. He realised this when Chan commented on it casually over breakfast.
“You and Jisung seem to be getting along really well,” he said as he spread butter on his toast.
Minho almost choked on his tea. “Uh yeah, he’s a good kid,” he said, trying to seem as indifferent as possible.
“Yeah, he seemed different yesterday. Not like his normal, cocky arsehole self.”
Minho faked a chuckle. “Yeah, none of his normal stuff. I wonder if the change will stick,” he said, feeling ugly at insinuating he agreed with Chan that Jisung was an arsehole.
There was a clatter on the stairs, and Jisung emerged, hair still a muss from sleep. “I’m heading out,” he said coldly, sauntering to the door and slamming it on the way out.
“I guess not,” Chan said with a sigh.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Jisung didn’t come home the whole day. Chan tried to hide it, but it was clear he was worried about him.
“I think he might have heard us this morning,” he said to Minho as they stood on his balcony, gazing out at the night sky. Changbin was in the bathroom.
Minho nodded. He had come to the same conclusion.
“I’m going to try to talk to him,” Minho said. “I think you should definitely talk to him too.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Chan replied with a sigh.
“I’m sure he does, you’re his brother, and though he pretends not to, it’s clear he really cares about you and what you think.”
Chan scoffed. “I doubt that.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We just used to be so close you know? We used to be inseparable. We used to sneakily stay up all night and make music together, play chefs and pirates and aliens. Ride our bikes around the streets until it was too dark to see. We used to beg our parents to buy us matching clothes, to call ourselves twins. And Jisung was the sweetest, cutest kid that ever existed. He used to smother me with hugs and kisses and cuddle me to sleep. He used to say he loved me. It was our thing. He’d say like ‘I love you more than anime,’ and I’d say ‘I love you more than 100 puppies’ or something equally ridiculous.” He smiled fondly at the memory, before his face turned sad. “What happened? What happened to that boy? I feel like I don’t know him at all anymore.”
Minho reached out a comforting arm to pat Chan’s back. He thought about Jisung that first night. How he had cried in his arms. How he had talked about people leaving if they saw the real him.
“I think the Jisung you knew is still there,” Minho said gently. “I think he’s hurting, and trying to protect himself from something, but I think he’s in there, wanting your love just as much as ever.”
He thought about it some more, then added, “did something happen? Did you two fight or something? When did things start to change?”
“No, we didn’t fight. I honestly don’t know. I guess we didn’t see much of each other while I was at uni, we used to talk a bit at the start, but it was so busy you know? And then at some point he stopped calling, stopped replying. He had moved to Australia by the time I finished my course. But nothing happened to cause it. Not that I know of.”
Minho hummed. “I think you should talk to him. Sit down and have an honest conversation. Maybe he’ll open up.”
“I can’t at the moment, he’s gone out again. No doubt he will bring home another random.”
Minho felt the all too familiar jealousy coil at that. It had only been getting stronger the more he got to know Jisung. The more he liked him.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho didn’t get a chance to talk to Jisung. He never came home that night, only sending Chan an ‘I’m ok’ message to stop him from calling.
Minho thought about Jisung so frequently over the next few days, he started to feel like he was going insane. He kept reminiscing about how much fun they had had together, how they sang together, and joked around. How Jisung had protected him. How he had called him gorgeous. How he had smiled at him, so, so bright and beautiful.
And then he thought about the change the next day. Back to the coldness, back to the indifference and contempt. Minho sighed, hating himself for being so careless with his words. Hating himself for possibly being a reason Jisung was hurting.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho sighed as he slumped down into the squishy booth at the stylish restaurant.
“That kind of day huh?” Hyunjin asked him sympathetically.
Minho sighed again, this time exaggerated. “End of year exams are coming up and the kids are all stressed about them. The level of moodiness and hormones flying around the studio was suffocating. I still feel on edge.”
Hyunjin tried for an understanding smile that didn’t quite land. He gave up after a second and chuckled. “I’m glad I stick to the little ones.”
“Really?” Minho snarked, "did you enjoy it when Taehoon was screaming down the entire centre yesterday?”
Hyunjin grimaced. “Fair point. But mine are so cute!”
Minho just shook his head and turned to the menu, though he already knew what he was having. They came here often – it was one of the places most frequented for their weekly dinners.
“So, how’s life?” Minho said casually, “Fucked any hot guys recently?”
“Oh, you know me,” Hyunjin said dismissively, then focused in on Minho, “I wanna hear about you. Have you fucked any hot guys? Or are you still pining over that guitarist?” The mischievous look in Hyunjin’s eyes told Minho he already knew the answer.
“I’m not pining!” Minho said, defensively. “He’s just really hot, and kinda fascinating you know? I can’t really work him out.”
“Ah yes, the guy with two personalities. You might have mentioned it once or twice.”
Minho kicked him under the table. “You asked!”
Hyunjin winced, “true, I did. And I do actually want an update. What’s the latest? He still bringing people over every night? Or has he finally realised you’re obsessed with him?”
Minho’s face fell. “Oh, I’m pretty sure he knows I’m obsessed with him. He just doesn’t care.”
Hyunjin scoffed, “I’m sure if he knew he’d have made a move by now.”
Minho opened his mouth to reply, but Hyunjin butted in. “And don’t give me that shit about how you’re not good enough or hot enough or whatever fucking bullshit because I will not hear such slander about my best friend.”
Minho closed his mouth.
A waiter came over to take their order, and as Hyunjin was explaining his special requests in detail, Minho noticed the soft sounds of an acoustic guitar drifting over. He sighed. Even just hearing a guitar made him think about Jisung. He really was a lost cause.
The waiter moved off and he glanced over to the little raised platform used as a stage.
His heart stopped.
There, perched on a stool and strumming away was Jisung.
But, of course it was Jisung. The universe really seemed intent on throwing them together. By now it was almost laughable.
“What, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, following Minho’s gaze.
He looked between Jisung and Minho. “No fucking way!” he said, gleeful. “That’s him, isn’t it?”
“Shhh, don’t speak so loud!” Minho hissed.
Hyunjin just laughed. “Oh my god, this is amazing. You should get his attention, make sure he knows you’re here.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m stalking him or something. Can we just go somewhere else?”
“We already ordered man, and even if we hadn’t, I’m not missing this for the world.”
Hyunjin turned back to Jisung, who was now singing sweetly, soft notes of some love song washing over them.
Minho was torn between trying to make sure Jisung didn’t see him, and his desire to watch him play and sing.
In the end, watching won. He just couldn’t resist the smooth emotional voice, couldn’t keep his eyes away from the man exuding warm charm and sentimentality. He was wearing simple jeans and a cosy looking jumper and barely any makeup. Simple, yet beautiful.
“He’s pretty good,” Hyunjin said, too loudly, and Jisung’s eyes drifted over to them.
Minho wanted to disintegrate. Wanted to break into tiny pieces and drift away on the draft coming under the door.
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn’t stop playing.
Well, at least now Jisung knew he was here Minho could stare freely.
Hyunjin chuckled and leaned in to whisper to him, “he’s pretty cute really. I can see why you like him so much.”
When Minho glanced over to the stage, irrationally worried that Jisung might have heard, he found the guitarist’s eyes focused on him, his gaze hardened.
Shit. Jisung didn’t want him here.
Hyunjin seemed to have noticed the change too. “Oh?” he said, like it was the most fascinating thing ever.
He reached out a hand to play with Minho’s fingers absently, still staring at the stage.
He seemed very satisfied with what he saw.
“I think I should leave,” Minho whispered to Hyunjin. “He clearly doesn’t want me here.”
Hyunjin chuckled. “He doesn’t want one of us here and I don’t think it’s you,” he said cryptically.
Minho shot him a confused look, but Hyunjin kept his face glued to the stage.
About half an hour later Jisung stopped for a break. He went to get some water from the bar, then headed towards them.
Minho’s heart beat triple time and he started to sweat – but Jisung just walked past them to the bathroom, pretending he didn’t even see them.
Hyunjin grinned. “Oh man, this is so good.”
When Jisung emerged a few minutes later, Hyunjin called out loudly, “hey, Jisung, over here!”
It was so loud that Jisung couldn’t possibly pretend he hadn’t heard.
Begrudgingly he headed over to their table.
“Oh, hi Minho!” he said, as if he had only just noticed him there.
“Hi Jisung,” Minho said, trying not to flush ridiculously.
“I’m Hyunjin,” Hyunjin piped up. “I’m Minho’s friend.” He held out a hand and Jisung took it, shaking it warily. “Nice to meet you! But I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you already.”
Minho was burning alive. Oh, Hyunjin had better enjoy this moment, because it was the last one he would ever have.
“Oh?” Jisung looked genuinely confused, glancing at Minho questioningly.
Minho scrambled to say anything to make that statement less embarrassing. “Yeah well um, Hyunjin was there the night we uh- first met- and he uh- liked your playing so he was – asking about you.”
“Oh, you were there that night? I didn’t really notice you, sorry,” Jisung said, turning back to Hyunjin, looking somewhat more relaxed.
“That’s okay!” Hyunjin said, too happy, “you were preoccupied with my best mate here, which is completely understandable. And I was fairly busy too with an older gentleman.” He punctuated the last statement with a wink.
Jisung smiled. “Well, it was nice to meet you Hyunjin, nice to see you Minho, but I better get back.”
“Yes, of course. You’re really good by the way. I can see why Minho likes you so much.”
Dead. So dead. Hyunjin had better have his affairs in order.
But… were Jisung’s cheeks a little redder than normal?
It must be the lighting, Minho told himself, as Jisung gave an awkward wave and moved back to the stage.
Minho couldn’t help watching Jisung despite his embarrassment. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from the stage, and Jisung’s eyes seemed to find his too often to be a coincidence. The hard look was gone though, and if Minho didn’t know better, he’d have said it was now almost friendly.
As he watched, his mind wandered back to Jisung’s comment. He had said he hadn’t noticed Hyunjin that first night in the bar. Hyunjin. A human, who was attracted to men, had not noticed Hyunjin, the godlike Adonis that everyone swooned over. Jisung had not noticed Hyunjin, but he had noticed Minho. The thought made him giddy and a bit delusional. Like maybe, just maybe, Jisung could like him. He stomped on the thoughts before they could grow too big.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
As they stepped out into the cool night air, Hyunjin turned to Minho, almost bouncing up and down with his enthusiasm. “Oh my god, oh my god!” he said, giggling like one of the hormonal teenagers in Minho’s class. “You two are ridiculously cute and smitten and adorable! I ship it so much, you don’t understand!”
“We- what? There’s nothing to ‘ship’, Jisung doesn’t like me like that.”
“Oh, I’m almost certain he does,” Hyunjin crowed. “Did you see how jealous he was when he thought we were on a date or something? And how he blushed when I said you liked him?” Hyunjin let out a little squeal. “And the fucking lovey dovey soft longing gazes from across the room, like aaaaa, I’m mentally keyboard smashing right now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Minho grunted. “None of that actually happened, you’ve been watching too many dramas.”
“I have, and that’s what makes me such an expert in this. Gah, I’m so happy for you Minho, you really deserve this.”
“Shut up,” Minho growled, but a little spark flourished in his chest.
Hyunjin ignored him. “I wonder how long he’ll take to come out? You should totally give him a ride home. Then give him a ride at home.” He wiggled his eyebrows obnoxiously.
“Okay, bye Hyunjin, lovely to see you as always!” Minho started walking off towards his car.
“Come on Minho, I was just teasing!” Minho keep walking. “Minho wait, I need you to help me with the car seats, you know I can’t adjust them properly and I have to take my bike with me to my family thing tomorrow!”
Minho stopped reluctantly. He had promised to help move the seats. He turned back around and stalked to Hyunjin’s car, muttering under his breath about adults needing to be more independent.
When they had finally wrestled the seats down in Hyunjin’s old bomb, Minho stood up to go back to his car.
He saw Jisung standing at the bus stop next to the restaurant, guitar on his back.
He glanced hurriedly at Hyunjin, trying to make sure he hadn’t seen him.
It was too late.
“Hey, Jisung!” Hyunjin called, way too loudly in the quiet night air.
Jisung turned around, looking confused until he saw them standing there. He gave a little wave and turned back to the road.
Hyunjin was not deterred. “Jisung, hey, Minho was just saying he wanted to offer you a ride, but he was too scared to ask you!”
Minho glared at Hyunjin. This man was determined to have Minho’s hands around his neck.
Jisung glanced back over. “That’s okay!” he yelled, “thanks anyway!”
“It’s going to rain soon,” Hyunjin yelled, “your guitar will get wet!”
Jisung turned back, probably about to refuse more firmly, but just at that moment, as if Hyunjin had somehow gained control over the skies, they opened up, and fat heavy drops of water were pounding down on them.
Hyunjin squeaked and jumped in his car. “Go and give him a fucking lift Minho. Don’t be a tool,” he said, turning on his engine.
Minho ran to his own car, hopping inside before he got totally soaked. He sat there, waiting for it to warm up, staring at Jisung barely covered by the small bus shelter.
Groaning, he started the engine and drove the short distance to stop in front of it.
“Hey,” Minho said, a little sheepish. “I really don’t mind, hop in.”
Jisung looked hesitant. “That’s okay, I don’t want to inconvenience you,” he said.
Minho scoffed. “You know how close I live to you, don’t be silly.”
Jisung sighed, looking out at the deluge.
He opened the back passenger door, threw his guitar in, then climbed in the front.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“It’s really no problem,” Minho repeated, staring ahead at the road.
“Hyunjin seems like a good friend,” Jisung said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.
Minho chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a lot, but he’s great. We have a weekly friend dinner, and we often go to that restaurant. I was so surprised to see you there.”
Jisung’s mouth stretched into a faint smile. “That’s really cute,” he said softly. “And I just got this job the other day. It’s only a few days a week but it means I can help out with food and bills until I get a real job.”
“What do you want to do?” Minho asked, curious. Jisung seemed so vibrant, he couldn’t imagine him doing some kind of office job.
“I mean, I want to make music. But I know that’s not realistic, so I have no idea.”
“I think you could do it,” Minho said softly. “You’re really good.”
Jisung glanced at him, searching his face. “Thank you,” he said, and it was genuine.
They pulled up outside Jisung’s house in no time, and Jisung looked at Minho a little awkwardly. “Do you… do you maybe want to come in for a bit?” he said, looking down at his lap.
Minho blinked. What? Jisung was asking him to what, hang out? Or something else…
Minho was ready to accept, no matter what Jisung intended for them to do, but then he stopped the words on his tongue.
“I would love to, but… you know,” he finished weakly.
“I know what?”
“Chan,” Minho said simply, “Chan will be there.” He tried to convey the regret he felt in his voice.
Jisung’s eyes blew wide and he blinked a few times before his face hardened, lips pressing into a thin line and eyebrows furrowing. “Right,” he said, his voice full of anger mixed with something Minho couldn’t decipher. “Right, can’t have Channie boy finding out your dirty little secret. Can’t have anyone finding out you stooped so low as to get involved with such an arsehole, a slutty fuck boy.”
Before Minho could respond, Jisung had hopped out of the car, grabbing his guitar and slamming both doors.
He strode off to the house, not even glancing behind him. Minho sat there in shock for a full minute before recovering himself and driving off.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho had tried to talk to Jisung about what he said in the car. Tried to approach him when Chan wasn’t around, to explain that that wasn’t why he hadn’t wanted Chan to see them together. But Jisung was being very stubborn, and clearly avoiding him. Minho was incredibly frustrated – he felt like he had been making progress with Jisung, but was now back to square one.
The whole thing seemed incredibly hopeless.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The dance studio was empty, dark. Minho used to hate this time, the time when everyone had gone home. When he was alone with his thoughts. Those thoughts never used to be good. Not while he was dating Yunho. Not when they finally broke up.
Now… would these thoughts be classified as good? The almost incessant thoughts of Jisung? His thoughts of Jisung were… complicated. They varied like the colours of the rainbow. Red passion, blind lust, a heady attraction that left his body craving. Orange happiness, the glow he felt around Jisung like the flickering of a friendly fire. Yellow fondness, affection like the warmth of sun streaming into his previously cold heart. Green envy, the monster taking over as he thought of him so close, but out of reach, always in the arms of another. Blue, the devastating sadness that came from knowing Jisung didn’t want him. And indigo and violet, hues of purple, a confusion, an intrigue, a need to know why Jisung was so changeable, a desire to understand him, a longing to be let in.
It was a lot, and Minho grew exhausted by it.
He reached for his phone, connecting to the speakers and selected a song. It boomed through the empty studio, and Minho closed his eyes, feeling it.
Then, he started to move. He danced that whole rainbow, poured it out into the universe through his body, throwing it around to the beat until the whole room was bursting with colour.
When he felt the last shades leave his body, he slumped down, panting hard, sweat making rivets on his face. It felt good to be free of it for a while. Free from the thoughts of Jisung. So good.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho woke, head pounding and stomach shooting stabbing pains through his body. They had drank last night without properly eating, and now Minho’s body was screaming for food even though it was - he went to check his phone but it wasn’t there. He glanced at Chan’s side table instead - it was 3am. He rolled himself out of bed, heading downstairs to find his phone and grab a muesli bar or muffin or something - anything that could tide him over until the morning.
He stumbled down the stairs, movement still slightly affected by the alcohol. Not bothering to turn on any lights (he knew the house as well as his own) he made his way to the kitchen.
He froze at the doorway. There, splayed on the table was a naked woman, flushed skin highlighted by the moonlight streaming through the window. Above her, rolling his hips slowly to thrust into her, was Jisung.
Minho’s heart fractured. He stood, unable to move, watching as Jisung leant down to kiss the woman tenderly, softly.
Minho’s heart smashed on the tiled floor, shattering.
It was one thing to know that Jisung was hooking up with lots of girls. It was another thing to hear them together. This- seeing him, seeing the man he liked fucking someone else- this was too much. More than his heart could take.
And then, Jisung looked up. His eyes widened, horrified, as he saw Minho standing there. His face filled with emotions Minho couldn’t completely decipher, but there was an apology there, and a haunting sadness. It was so raw and unfiltered that it had Minho transfixed.
“Baby,” the girl whimpered at Jisung’s lack of movement. Jisung looked down at her, and Minho turned around and practically ran back up the stairs.
He threw himself in bed, pulling the covers over his head, trying in vain to block the image from his mind. Jisung, naked, vulnerable. Jisung, giving himself to someone else. Jisung, making love to someone that wasn’t him.
It hurt. It hurt so much that Minho wanted to run out of this house and never come back, so he never had to be reminded of this ever again. Except Minho knew the moment would still live in his mind. He was stuck with the nightmare.
He barely slept the rest of the night.
The next morning, Minho got up early, eager to excuse himself as soon as possible, preferably without having to see the girl, or Jisung.
But the universe was never on his side, and he ran into Jisung as he was coming out of the bathroom.
“Can we talk hyung?” Jisung whispered, eyes wide and pleading.
Minho wanted to say no, wanted to just get out of there, but even when he was this upset, he couldn’t deny the desperation in Jisung’s face.
He sighed, and walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Jisung followed him in before closing it.
He was fidgeting with his t-shirt, not meeting Minho’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry you had to see that hyung,” he murmured, now playing with his fingers. “We shouldn’t have done it there, in a common area. I assumed you were all asleep, I didn’t really think it through. I’m sorry.”
Minho didn’t know what to say to that. He should say it was okay. Jisung had thought no one would see them. It was his house. It was the middle of the night. But Minho was not okay. His heart was not okay. Even after spending all night trying to put all his pieces back together, it was a lost cause.
“Hyung?” Jisung prompted, clearly even more uncomfortable with the extended silence. “I disinfected the whole table and the floor. And I promise to keep everything to my bedroom from now on.”
“Good idea,” Minho finally managed to say. “Don’t think Chan would be happy if he saw you fucking in the kitchen.” And with that, he opened the door and walked out.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Sweat streamed down Minho’s face as he collapsed down on the floor of the studio, muscles aching, chest burning. Moonlight made the space eerie and cold, and brought painful reminders of the scene he was trying desperately to forget.
He was finding himself here often, dancing to clear his mind. To stop the thoughts from consuming him. The thoughts of Jisung, the longing for him, the hurt at seeing him with someone else, at knowing he didn’t want Minho back. They were eating away at him.
He looked at his face in the mirror, sweat drenched, hair stuck to his forehead. Exhausted. But his eyes were determined. He would stop the corrosive thoughts. He would beat them, take control back.
It was time to get over Jisung.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
John sat, drinking a beer and perusing the menu at a very pretentious downtown restaurant. He was older, tall, built, and chiselled. He looked like a really mature, really butch man. The opposite of Jisung. Which is why Minho had chosen him in the first place. He didn’t need to be reminded of Jisung at all while he was on this date.
“What would you like?” John boomed over at him. “You’re such a tiny, delicate, pretty thing, let’s get some meat on those bones.”
Minho tried to not be immediately put off. Tried to not stand up and storm out with a sharp jab about how people should stop commenting on his body. Tried not to think of Jisung. Jisung would never say something like that. Jisung loved his body. Would love his body no matter how he looked. Jisung saw his strength, admired it.
“I’ll have the risotto,” he said, trying for a genuine smile and failing.
John raised his hand and clicked at the waitress. Minho wanted to melt onto the floor, horrified. Jisung would never click at a waitress. Not that he’d ever eaten out with Jisung, but he just knew.
“One steak and one risotto,” John barked.
Their food took hours to come out. It didn’t matter that when Minho checked the time it had only been 20 minutes. It took hours. Hours upon hours upon hours. Hours he had to sit there and listen to this man drone on and on and on about his job and how much money he had. About finances and politics and every boring thing Minho could possibly think of.
Minho zoned out. He had to, it was a matter of survival for his poor brain. It needed to be occupied, not wasting away here in this monotonous monologue.
It drifted off, away from the fancy table, away from the snobby, awful man, and landed on Jisung’s cute, squishy face, bunched up as he laughed about reading Minho’s mind. His cute giggle filled his mind and Minho smiled, basking in the warmth of it.
Jisung would never ‘subtle’ brag about his money. He would never let someone he was with be bored. His conversation was playful, interesting, funny, honest. His mind was a glorious mystery that Minho relished getting glimpses into.
And yes, maybe he was immature with his never-ending hookups, his drastic mood swings and his brattiness to his brother. But Minho would take that immaturity any day over this dull selfish arrogance. Especially when he knew there was more to it. More to Jisung’s actions, something hurting him deep within, causing him to lash out.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be an ant?” Minho blurted the question, right in the middle of whatever boring adult thing John was talking about. Probably his taxes.
John blinked at him in surprise. “What?”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be an ant?” Minho repeated. “Don’t you think it would be scary with all these giants around you?”
John gave him a look that said he was concerned for Minho’s sanity.
“No. Ants don’t have that kind of mental capacity. They’re ants. They don’t feel anything.”
“But how do you know that? Have you ever been an ant?”
“Minho are you okay? Do you have a fever or something?”
Minho clung onto the unexpected lifeline. “Actually yeah, I do feel like I might be burning up a bit. I’m so sorry, I think I better go.”
He pulled out money to cover his meal, leaving it on the table and standing up.
“Thanks for being so understanding,” he said, giving John an awkward wave and turning, trying not to run out of the restaurant.
Once the door swung shut behind him he inhaled deeply. Finally, he could breathe again. That man’s company was suffocating.
He pulled out his phone and called Hyunjin.
“That was quick,” Hyunjin’s voice drifted through the device.
“Yeah. Hyunjin, he was so boring I thought I might die.”
“Well his name was John, and he was an accountant. What did you expect?”
Minho sighed. “I just wanted someone that wasn’t like Jisung. I didn’t want to think about him the whole time.”
“And how did that work out for you?”
“I thought about him the whole time.”
Hyunjin chuckled. “How did you escape?”
“I faked illness. I wouldn’t have survived a whole dinner with that man.”
“Yeah, dinner? That’s a rookie mistake. First date should always be a coffee, or a drink. That way if they’re awful or there’s no vibe, you can excuse yourself easily. You don’t have to sit there for hours with someone you don’t like. But if it goes well, you can always extend it.”
“You make valid points.”
“I do, I think you’ve learnt your lesson for next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, I’m traumatised.”
“So we’re not trying to get over Jisung anymore?” Hyunjin’s voice was smug. He hadn’t wanted Minho to do this in the first place. He seemed to think that Jisung liked him. That Jisung was good for Minho.
“I never said I was going to stop trying to get over him. I’m just stopping dating.”
Hyunjin sighed, clearly about to launch into some kind of sermon. Minho hung up the phone before he had a chance to start.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“Jisung is having a party at the house,” Chan said, “can you guys come to help make sure he doesn’t demolish the place?”
“House party? Fuck yeah,” Changbin crowed. “Who’s coming?”
Chan shrugged. “Jisung’s band and their friends I think. Probably their swarm of groupies too. Might end up being some kind of orgy knowing him.”
“Orgy? That’s a great idea hyung,” Jisung said, sauntering into the space.
Minho looked at him intently. He stood, confident, arrogant mask firmly in place, gazing at them all with a defiant smirk.
“Jisung…” Chan started.
“You don’t have to come if it makes you uncomfortable.” Jisung said casually, then turned to look at him. “I’m sure Minho wouldn’t mind watching me instead.”
Minho could only stare at him, open mouthed.
Chan scoffed, “don’t be such a menace, and stop making my friends uncomfortable.”
“Oh, are you uncomfortable with the idea of watching me at my orgy, Minho hyung?” Jisung’s eyes were dark, challenging. Minho swallowed.
“That’s enough,” Chan said, warning saturating his voice. “And of course I’m coming to the party.”
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“Oh, yes, fuck yes, you have to wear this,” Hyunjin crowed, pulling a clingy, skin tight shirt out of Minho’s closet.
“It’s too tight,” Minho complained after throwing it on.
“It is not too tight, it looks fucking amazing. Even I wanna squeeze your tits.”
Minho sighed, checking the mirror. “You can see everything.”
“That’s exactly the point.”
“But-“
“You said you wanted to be mind-blowingly hot. This,” he gestured wildly at Minho’s outfit, “this is mind-blowingly hot.”
“But my stomach-“
“Do not fucking start with that shit Minho I swear to fucking god.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m gonna fucking find Yunho and I’m gonna-“
“I said sorry! I’ll wear the fucking shirt!”
“Good. Because you look so good, I’d even consider fucking you. And I do not think of you that way.”
“Ew, gross, don’t say things like that.” Minho checked the mirror again and sighed. “Can’t you ditch your date and come with me?”
“Sorry, man has to get his dick wet.”
“You could wet your dick at the party. Knowing Jisung there’ll be heaps of attractive guys there.”
“No. Now shut up so I can do your makeup.”
Minho took a shot of courage first, then another. This was fine. Hyunjin wouldn’t lie to him. If he said Minho looked good, he looked good. It was fine. And Jisung… Jisung would like it. Jisung liked his body. Jisung would think it was hot… But this wasn’t for Jisung, he scolded his brain. This was to find someone else, to get over Jisung.
Hyunjin leant back, inspecting his work and making a noise of satisfaction.
“Wow, you look seriously stunning. Jisung is going to jizz his pants when he sees you,”
“I’m not doing this for Jisung,” Minho said, as much to remind himself as Hyunjin. “I’m getting over him remember?”
Hyunjin made a face.
“You should be getting under him,” he muttered.
Minho sighed, pretending like that hadn’t been what he had been dreaming about for months.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Changbin had been at Chan’s since earlier, they were getting ready together. Minho had opted for Hyunjin’s expert skills instead. Like he said, he wanted to look hot – hot enough to lure some random so he could have sex and forget about Jisung.
It ate him from the inside that the only person he’d fucked since Yunho was Jisung. It gave the guitarist too much importance. Made him the star of all his sexual fantasies, made it impossible to forget their time together, even when they were just laughing and talking.
He needed new experiences to drive those ones out of his mind. He was sick of it. Sick of his brain being a prisoner to Jisung and his actions. Sick of wanting and pining for someone who was so hot and cold, who seemed to enjoy teasing him but want nothing more.
So he walked into Chan’s, trying to fake a confidence that even the alcohol couldn’t help him muster for real.
No guests were there yet, but the house was set up, and everyone seemed ready. He strode over to the group of guys, the band and Minho’s friends, who were drinking in a circle together.
“Holy shit Minho, you look amazing!” Chan yelled, seeming to notice him first.
Then, all eyes were on him, 6 pairs full of shock and awe.
“You look like you should be at a celebrity club, not some loser’s house party,” Seungmin said, looking him up and down.
“Or a runway,” Felix added.
“Great,” Changbin muttered, “Now I’ve got no chance with anyone. Every guy is going to be salivating over Minho.”
“Aw hyung, I’ll salivate over you,” Felix said, chuckling.
Minho’s eyes flicked over to Jisung. His eyes hadn’t moved from Minho the whole time. They were still fixed on Minho now, even though everyone else had started teasing Changbin.
Those eyes held a look that made Minho want to crawl up and hide. It was like they were devouring him, undressing him until he was stripped bare, exposed and vulnerable, waiting to be consumed by him. Minho shivered, unable to escape that glare. It was almost predatory.
“Minho?” Chan was looking at him, confused, and Minho realised he’d missed an entire question. He turned to Chan.
“Sorry.”
“I asked what you wanted to drink,” Chan chuckled. “Come on, there’s plenty in the kitchen.”
When Minho returned with his alcoholic seltzer, the others were all chatting. Now that Jisung wasn’t holding his gaze captive Minho noticed what he was wearing, and, oh, this wasn’t good.
Nor was it fair. Jisung seemed to be wearing the same tank top as when they hooked up, bulging arms on display. But- it was cropped. Minho’s eyes widened as they traversed the toned skin of his stomach, abs taunting him, and tiny waist on display for all to see. His tight leather pants sat low on his hips, and Minho could see the tops of his v line poking out. Fuck. Fucking fuck.
Minho’s dick was already twitching in interest, his mind already imagining scenarios. A fucking cropped top, low pants combo? Definitely against the rules. Definitely evil. And, Minho realised with a jolt, even though the pants sat so low, Minho couldn’t see even a hint of underwear. WAS JISUNG NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR!?
Look away Minho. Breathe, he scolded himself. You are not here for Jisung. You are getting over Jisung.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
It was not going well.
Minho’s eyes seemed to find Jisung on their own, broodily watching as he chatted to his guests. Minho was supposed to be seeming approachable and available. He was supposed to be sending flirty smiles to everyone who looked at him, not drooling over the guy he came here to forget.
Luckily Jisung went upstairs for a few minutes, and Minho couldn’t physically see him anymore. He looked around him, at the guests laughing, drinking and dancing. He caught a tall, good looking guy staring at him and sent him a smile.
The guy came over.
“Hi, I’m Donghoon,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Minho.” He shook the hand. Big. Soft.
“How do you know Jisung?” Donghoon asked. Ah, what an unfortunate question.
Minho shook away visions of their first night. “I’m friends with his brother Chan.”
“Oh, nice. I knew him from high school actually. Though I was a bit of an arsehole to him back then.”
“Oh.” Minho was surprised that this guy was at this party then.
Donghoon chuckled. “I reached out to him recently to apologise. He invited me here as a peace offering I think.”
Minho nodded, trying not to get lost thinking about why Jisung would give this guy a second chance if he had been that bad. He must not have been that bad.
“So, you watch baseball?” Donghoon was asking.
“No,” Minho said, well aware that Jisung had come back and was staring at them. “Wanna dance?”
Donghoon looked delighted. “Sure.”
Donghoon had no natural rhythm. He was too tall to have proper control of his limbs. He just kind of flailed them around, making awkward hip movements. It didn’t matter though. He was clearly interested in Minho, and Jisung clearly hated it. Two very good things. Scrap that. One very good thing. He didn’t care what Jisung thought.
Minho led Donghoon away from the dancefloor, batting his eyes up at him suggestively.
Donghoon kissed him, and it was sloppy. Minho was reminded how much he disliked kissing. He shifted to kiss Donghoon’s neck instead, the faint taste of sweat still preferable to the taste of stale beer on his breath.
Rough hands grabbed at Minho’s arse, and his dick twitched in interest. This was good. This was it. Time to fuck someone else and get over Jisung.
Minho pulled Donghoon with him up the stairs, to Chan’s room. Chan would hate his room being used for this purpose, but Minho’s need was dire and he would get over it.
Donghoon paused beside the bed. “You’re good with me fucking you yeah?” he said.
“Yeah,” Minho replied, absolutely not thinking about Jisung that night asking gently if he could kiss him, eyes kind and understanding.
Donghoon manoeuvred them to the bed, and pushed Minho down on top of it, pressing him down so he was on all fours. He pulled Minho’s pants down slightly, and Minho heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. A moist finger prodded at his hole and Minho wondered where this guy had found lube. He spent barely any time feeling around before poking it in roughly and making Minho hiss in pain.
“Geez, slow down,” he murmured.
“Sorry,” Donghoon grunted. He waited a little, moving his finger awkwardly, before pushing a second finger in more slowly. Minho tried to relax to help the process, but all he could really feel is the pain. He couldn’t help crying out, clenching his teeth.
“You right?” Donghoon said, pausing.
“Yeah,” Minho replied. “Just give me a minute to adjust.”
The guy did, and when Minho gave him the okay, he was more gentle.
But why couldn’t Minho relax? He’d been totally fine when he was with Jisung. But then again Jisung had had magic hands. Jisung had been sweet and understanding and considerate. Jisung had told him he was gorgeous. Jisung had been mind blowingly hot, not just in his looks, but in the way he moved his body, the way he touched… Oh, Minho was a little more relaxed now, and a little less flaccid.
“Ready babe?” Donghoon asked, and Minho thought surely he must be. But when the guy lined his dick up and pushed in, the stretch was still too much. “Ah, fuck!” Minho cried, wincing at the pain. “Careful!”
"Sorry," Donghoon muttered, letting out an irritated huff, "wanna stop?"
Minho considered this. "No," he replied. "I'll be fine once I relax."
Minho took some deep breaths, trying to conjure those images again, pretend this was Jisung pushing into him… but that didn’t really work. It was never this uncomfortable with Jisung.
A familiar cough broke into Minho’s concentration. He whipped his head to the side and saw a figure standing at the now open door, letting light flow in around him to illuminate the pair on the bed. Oh fuck. Jisung.
What the fuck!? Had he somehow summoned him by thinking of him too much? Or shit, had he accidentally called out his name?
“Hi Minho hyung,” Jisung said casually, like he had just walked in to find him reading a book, not with a guy’s cock shoved into his arse.
Minho just blinked back at him, stunned. It was probably a good thing because if his mind was working right now…
Jisung cast an appraising eye over them before saying. “Chan’s looking for you. He’s pretty wasted and won’t let anyone else help him except you.”
“O-Oh,” Minho stuttered, “okay.” Jisung didn’t move.
“You want me to go now?" Minho asked in disbelief.
Jisung shrugged. “I mean, I don’t really care if he embarrasses himself in front of everyone, but I figured you might since you two are besties and all.”
Minho just gaped at him. Did Jisung seriously expect him to stop in the middle of being fucked to go help Chan, a grown adult in his own home who had other friends around?
Not that the sex was good, but who knows, it might have gotten better. The chances of that now, after being so weirdly interrupted, were miniscule considering they were slim before.
Minho sighed. “Okay,” he said, resigned. Jisung still didn’t move.
Was Jisung really just going to stand there and watch as he extracted this guy’s dick from his arse? He was about to ask Jisung to give him a minute, when the Donghoon spoke up, seemingly having recovered from his shock.
“Jisung, bro, could this not have waited 2 minutes?”
Two minutes? This guy was going to be done in 2 minutes? Minho probably wouldn’t have even gotten fully hard by then.
Jisung tried to hold in a grin. “Sorry man, didn’t realise you were almost done.” He looked straight at Minho, shooting him a strange look, before talking to Donghoon again. “It’s probably good I caught you though, I think someone threw up on your car, looks like it might start eating the paint soon.”
“What the fuck!” Donghoon yelled, pulling out quickly and doing up his pants as he rushed out the door.
Minho winced, slumping on the bed and trying to cover his angry, gaping arsehole. Jisung finally looked away. “I’ll be out here,” he said, closing the door softly.
Minho quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe off the lube and pulled his pants and underwear back on. He took a second to fix his face and hair in the mirror before pulling open the door.
Jisung shot him a big, innocent smile, as if he hadn’t just completed the cockblocking of the century.
“Where’s Chan?” Minho asked roughly.
Jisung gestured for Minho to follow him.
As they walked, Minho started to get annoyed.
“Was that really necessary? Changbin could have helped Chan.”
Jisung shrugged. “Sorry for ruining your terrible sex.”
“Who says it was terrible?”
“Minho, you sounded like you were in pain. And you weren’t even properly hard.”
“I would have got hard. Eventually.”
“Yes, I’m sure the two minutes of awkward thrusting would have made you extremely satisfied.”
Minho huffed, unwilling to admit that Jisung was definitely right.
They reached the living room. Minho glanced around and spotted Chan.
He was asleep. Snuggled up quietly on the couch.
Minho turned to Jisung angrily. “What the fuck?!”
Jisung merely shrugged. “Weird, he was acting up so much a few minutes ago.”
Minho stood there gaping. Had Jisung just been making up shit to stop him having sex? Was he… jealous? Surely not. Jisung had probably fucked a hundred people since they’d had sex.
But maybe, just maybe Jisung might have felt something.
“I feel like you kinda owe me an orgasm,” Minho said, carefully constructing his tone so that the statement could be taken either as a joke or something more depending on Jisung’s intentions.
Jisung scoffed. “Like you would have orgasmed with that guy. You clearly weren’t that into it.”
Minho sighed. “Fine, it was pretty awful, is that what you want to hear? He just wanted a hole to use, and I was close by.”
Jisung smiled. “See, I did you a favour. Next time try someone who isn’t a total arsehole.”
“Won’t be you then I guess,” Minho snapped, too tired to fight his pettiness, and stalked off.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Things were looking up. A very charming man had asked Minho to dance, and he was grinding with him on the dance floor. It was pretty hot. Not Jisung hot, but much better than Donghoon. Plus, this guy seemed very interested, seemed like he would like nothing better than to make out here, in the living room. What the hell, Minho thought. He may as well try to salvage something from tonight after his rude interruption earlier.
Minho looked up, finally meeting the guy’s eyes. The man leaned in slightly. Minho closed his eyes, waiting to feel the moist lips meet his.
Instead, he felt a rough hand grab his arm. His eyes snapped open in surprise, and he saw Jisung standing there.
“Come on,” he said simply, tugging at Minho’s arm.
“Jisung,” Minho said, annoyed and exasperated.
Jisung just tugged again, and something in his eyes made Minho give in, shooting an apologetic glance at the guy as he let Jisung drag him away.
He pulled Minho up the stairs and into the bathroom, not saying a word despite Minho’s attempts to ask what was going on.
When they were inside, Jisung locked the door and stood there, looking at Minho with a strange expression in his eyes.
“What-" Minho started to say, but lost all train of thought when Jisung stepped into his space. So close he could smell Jisung’s breath, fruity and sweet. A second passed where Minho stood, transfixed, barely remembering to breathe while he waited for Jisung’s next move. And it was only another second before he leaned forward, round eyes fluttering closed as he let his lips brush Minho’s ever so softly, gently.
He pulled back and they stared into each other for another charged second, and then Minho was grabbing the back of Jisung neck, pulling him in.
Kissing Jisung was like coming home after a long period away. It felt so right, so natural, so good. Again, Minho marvelled at it. At how kissing other people made him squirm and cringe but kissing Jisung made his body come alive.
He burned with want, his dick already hardening, which Jisung noticed when he pressed closer. The slightest pause for Jisung to grin smugly at him told Minho that Jisung was also comparing this to his utter lack of response to Donghoon earlier.
Minho wiped the smirk off by diving in again, deepening the kiss, exploring Jisung’s mouth. Jisung pushed him back against the door, his hands travelling greedily over Minho’s body. He pulled away for another second, hands paused at the top button of Minho’s shirt, eyes asking the question. Minho answered with his hands, reaching up to undo it himself.
Ten seconds later the shirt was on the floor, and Jisung’s mouth was ravaging Minho’s sensitive chest, suckling kisses making him gasp and whine, head thrown back in bliss.
Jisung’s lips moved lower, and before Minho knew what was happening he was on his knees, gazing up at Minho with wide pleading eyes, hands resting at the zip of his pants. Minho inhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes so he didn’t come undone at the mere sight of Jisung gazing up at him like that, so desperate, so vulnerable, so gorgeous.
“Minho hyung?” he breathed, when Minho still hadn’t responded to his unvoiced question. Hearing his name come out of those pouty lips, in the voice he was borderline obsessed with, was even more overwhelming.
Minho just nodded, not trusting his voice to work properly.
Jisung held his pants taught, undoing the zip with his teeth. Minho drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself so he wouldn’t cum the second Jisung touched his leaking cock.
Jisung quickly pulled the pants down and they bunched at Minho’s ankles. Minho tensed, waiting for his return to remove his underwear, but Jisung’s hands didn’t come back. Minho looked down, confused, and saw Jisung fiddling with his shoelaces.
“Wh-what are you doing?” he croaked, confused. If what he thought was going to happen was actually happening, there was no reason his pants couldn’t just sit around his ankles.
“Take them off,” Jisung breathed, “want you naked.”
Minho jolted at the words and he quickly kicked off his shoes, socks and pants as he felt pre cum start to leak slowly from his tip. Jisung loved his body.
Satisfied, Jisung knelt up again, sucking kisses into his inner thighs, making them tremble. Minho braced his hand against the corner of the room for support.
When Jisung reached up to pull the elastic of his briefs down, Minho sighed in relief as the cooling air hit his aching dick. The relief didn’t last long, as Jisung opened his mouth, tongue flat, and licked a strip right down his length.
“Fuck,” Minho moaned, squirming a little and realising that Jisung had somehow managed to remove his underwear entirely without him even noticing.
He gazed down in surprise at his now fully naked body. Jisung looked up at him, smiling warmly.
“See? Isn’t this so much better hyung? Nothing covering your beautiful body.”
Minho was overcome with so many emotions – relief, gratitude, horniness and an affection for Jisung that was honestly frightening.
He wanted to tell Jisung to take off his clothes too, wanted to tell him how amazing his body was as well, but Jisung had brought his mouth back to Minho’s cock, and there was no way his brain could form any coherent thoughts.
He placed little kitten licks over the head, making a show of tasting the precum. Minho watched in awe, fascinated at the skill of that fat, pink tongue and gasping at the waves of desire it sent through him.
And then Jisung was taking him into his mouth, sucking down gently on the tip while gazing up at Minho with those wide doe eyes. Minho’s whole body trembled, and he fought the urge to thrust. Jisung hollowed his cheeks and sucked down, taking in more each time until eventually Minho’s cock was fully encased in his mouth. Minho had to look away, the sight of Jisung’s nose pressed against his skin, along with the tensing of his throat as he swallowed around him was too much. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he wanted to hold on for as long as he could.
Jisung started moving, bobbing his head and gagging a little, before setting a ferocious pace. Minho cried out, grabbing for Jisung’s hair and trying to slow him, his body tensing already, glorious waves of pleasure building, higher and higher, ready to break.
“Jisung- I- can’t- hold- it!" he called out desperately, clinging to the last thread of control. Jisung just squeezed his arse comfortingly, glancing up at him as he bobbed down again, and it was too much. Minho groaned as he came, contractions pulsing through him, glorious ecstasy flooding his senses as he vaguely registered Jisung swallowing down every drop.
Minho was panting and sweating when Jisung popped off his spent cock. He hummed warmly when Jisung placed sweet kisses to his thighs, his scar, his chest, and then finally his mouth.
When he pulled back Minho sighed, gazing at him, satisfied, content, and so, so fond.
Jisung stepped back, gathering Minho’s clothes from around the room and handing them to him, before nudging him out of the way and slipping out the door.
Minho stood, body still reeling from such an intense orgasm, mind whirling with confusion. Why had Jisung just left like that? Minho hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour, let alone to suggest for Jisung use his body to get off however he liked.
He took a few minutes to gather himself before dressing and heading out, trying not to overthink, telling himself to just talk to Jisung and find out what was going on.
Minho spotted him talking to Changbin, smiling and casually touching his jacked arms as Changbin preened. Minho fought off a fresh wave of angry jealousy and approached, crafting his face into a smile.
“Jisung, can I speak to you for a second?” he said, when they turned to acknowledge him. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead grabbing Jisung’s arm and pulling him away, where curious ears wouldn’t hear.
He dropped the arm when they were alone in a corner of the kitchen.
“Wh- what was that?” he asked, desperate eyes searching Jisung’s for clues.
“What was what?” Jisung said, stubbornly faking ignorance.
“You know what!” Minho said, frustrated. “Upstairs, in the bathroom. What was that?”
Jisung grinned. “Oh, that!” he said, “that’s called a blow job.”
Minho had to fight the urge to punch him in his smug face. He took a calming breath. “Yeah, but… why?”
Jisung shrugged. “You said I owed you an orgasm,” he said matter of factly, then stepped deftly around Minho and walked back to Changbin.
Minho stood, staring after him, fighting the frustrated, longing feeling in his heart.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
When Minho woke up, the first thing he felt was anger. As he extracted himself from Chan’s long arms he felt the full force of it wash over him. Jisung had taken someone with him to his bedroom last night. Jisung, after interrupting his sex, after interrupting his flirting, after kissing him and giving him the best fucking blow job he’d ever had, had walked off into some other guy’s arms. He felt like some kind of plaything, that Jisung had picked up for a minute, only to decide he didn’t want it anymore. But at the same time, he didn’t want anyone else to have it.
He hadn’t heard what had gone on in Jisung’s bedroom. He had shoved his ear plugs in, and then Chan’s expensive headphones on top, playing an ocean sounds playlist. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of how stupid he was to fall into Jisung again, to let him be played by him in his silly childish game.
He would not be so foolish again.
It was afternoon by the time most of the house was awake. Changbin and Jeongin were in the kitchen trying to cook some chicken wings and chips for everyone. The screeching of the smoke alarm and thick black cloud coming from the kitchen meant that they hadn’t been successful.
Chan, Minho and the rest of the band except Jisung were draped around the living room in various states of hungover agony.
Jisung strolled in, shirtless, rubbing his messed up hair. Minho glared at him with as much venom as he could manage.
And then another man walked into the room, tall, lithe, and extremely handsome. Minho did a double take. He hadn’t really seen much of the guy last night – just Jisung talking and laughing with him and then them going upstairs together. He hadn’t realised how breathtakingly handsome the guy was.
Minho hated him.
He shifted so he was sitting straighter, smoothing his hair down a little, and went back to glaring at Jisung.
Jisung ignored him, instead speaking to the room, who were all looking at Jisung’s new guy.
“Guys, this is my friend Minkyu, he works at the restaurant with me.”
There was a chorus of hellos and then Jisung went to point them all out.
“You’ve met the band,” he gestured in their general direction. Hang on, what? Jisung actually knew this guy? He wasn’t just a random?
“This is my brother Chan, his friend Changbin, and Minho,” Jisung barely looked at him, just waved a hand in his direction.
Minkyu, however, stared at him openly. Minho felt like he was being assessed, judged. He tried not to feel self conscious.
Why was Minkyu staring at him in particular? Had Jisung told him about him? Had they laughed together about Jisung cockblocking him and then leaving him pathetic and wanting? Had they giggled about how desperate Minho was while they fucked?
Minkyu sat down on an empty couch cushion, pulling Jisung down beside him when he just stood there awkwardly.
“Nice to meet you Minkyu, sorry the house and all of us are such a mess,” Chan said, ever trying to be the gracious host.
“No problem! I was here for the party, I saw how crazy it was. Thank you for letting me crash here.”
Minho scoffed at that. Crash here? As if this guy hadn’t been railing Chan’s brother into the mattress all night.
Chan shot Minho a weird look.
“So Minkyu, you work at the restaurant?” Chan said conversationally, turning back to him. He was probably happy Jisung had someone so polite as a friend. And it hit him, Chan probably did think this guy and Jisung were just friends. Chan still thought Jisung was straight.
“Yeah, I do. It was the only job I could get at such short notice. I had a bit of a car crash and had to pay for repairs. It was really hard there at first, I felt really uncomfortable. Until I became friends with this one.” Minkyu smiled at Jisung and squeezed his thigh gently.
Minho might throw up.
He had thought it was a despicable betrayal that Jisung had spent the night fucking some guy after what happened between them in the bathroom. But this was so, so much worse. This guy was clearly smitten by Jisung - and judging by Jisung lacing their hands together and leaning his head on Minkyu’s shoulder, the feeling was mutual.
Forget throwing up, Minho might cry. Might sob, out loud. Release the painful twisting and stabbing in his gut as wails of anguish, right here in this living room, surrounded by all their friends.
Minkyu looked up from patting Jisung’s hair to meet Minho’s gaze. His eyes were curious, searching. And Minho couldn’t take any more. He stood up and walked outside.
Minho really should go home. He really should stop torturing himself. But he couldn’t seem to leave. He knew that imagining what Minkyu and Jisung were doing would be worse than actually watching them. And boy, was he watching them. His eyes stayed glued to the pair the entire afternoon, watching every little flirty touch, every little giggle. It was disgusting.
“Minkyu seems so nice,” Changbin said casually, once they had retreated to Chan’s room upstairs, starting to gather their stuff to head home.
“Yeah, I really like him actually, and he seems like such a good influence on Jisung,” Chan chimed in.
“What about you Minho, what did you think?” Changbin asked, curious.
“He’s too tall for Jisung,” Minho said, with more venom than he intended.
“What does that matter between friends?” Chan asked, laughing a little awkwardly.
“Is that why you were glaring at him the entire day?” Changbin’s voice held a challenge.
“I wasn’t- I just don’t like him. He’s not a good fit for Jisung,”
“Since when did you care who my brother is friends with?”
Minho scoffed. “Yeah, friends. Sure”
“What do you mean by that?” Chan asked, genuinely confused.
Minho snapped his mouth shut, horrified. No matter how mad he was at Jisung he was not about to out someone against their will.
“Sorry,” he sighed, “I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just tired and grumpy. Ignore me.”
“Okay,” Chan ran a soothing hand down Minho’s back. “Well, if anything is up, you know you can talk to me right?”
“Yeah, thanks Chan. I’m gonna go grab my stuff from the pool, be back soon.”
He sighed as the cool evening air hit his face. He had needed an escape from that conversation, needed a break from talking about Jisung and his new lover.
He walked towards the blue water, then stopped suddenly.
Ah. Minho had forgotten the universe hated him. He was reminded, harshly, when he saw Jisung sitting by the pool, strumming his guitar lazily.
Fucking universe.
“Hey,” Jisung said softly. Like he hadn’t fucked Minho over and then made love to an extremely hot guy, then proceeded to rub it in his face the entire day.
Minho grunted, hurrying to grab his towel and sandals.
“Minho hyung, can we talk?” Jisung said, putting the guitar down and walking over to him.
“Talk about what Jisung? Your new lover boy? How hard you fucked him last night straight after we…” Minho trailed off. He would not give Jisung the satisfaction of saying the rest out loud.
Jisung looked hurt and confused.
“Actually I was going to apologise for the way I acted on the dancefloor, and in the bathroom. For leaving you there, for making it seem like it was nothing to me.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure it meant so much to you. I’m sure you were crying about it while you fucked your newest conquest.”
Jisung’s eyes widened in shock, and he opened his mouth to respond.
And Minho couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stand here and have Jisung yell at him and tell him it was none of his business. He couldn’t. So he got in first.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Minho could hear his voice, a mixture of anger, sadness, desperation, hurt. “Why are you torturing me like this? You know I like you, you know I want you. Why are you flaunting your body in my face? Why do bring your hook-ups here when I’m staying over? Why did you interrupt my sex, give me a blowjob and then fuck someone else? Why does it seem like you’re trying to make me hurt, make me jealous?”
Jisung stood for a second, seemingly stunned, before his face hardened, features rocky. “I know you like me? What the hell Minho? Why would I think that even for a second? You’ve never given me any indication that you liked anything more than my body.” Jisung’s voice was getting louder, indignant. “And yes, I have been teasing you when I see you perving. You deserve it.”
“Deserve it? What did I ever do to you?” Minho’s anger was bubbling up, overflowing.
“Are you kidding? Not even considering what you did back then, don’t tell me you forgot our first night together? And the morning after?”
“Of course I remember. We had a one night stand. It was amazing. For me at least. But I guess I was just one of your many conquests.”
Jisung scoffed, rolling his eyes. “See, there you go again, judging me, speaking for me.”
“What?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Jisung paused, taking a shaky breath. “Minho, that night you- you made me feel like you understood me, like you weren’t judging me like everyone else does. That I could be myself around you, open up to you. I thought we could have something. Something real. But you were just the same as the rest of them. You just decided what I was, and you judged me based off that. And to think I let you in that night, let you see me. And you didn’t even want my fucking number. Didn’t even pretend like you wanted to even talk to me again. I showed you myself and you rejected me, just like Chan did all those years ago. Just like Seungjoon did, just like all my friends. I’m so fucking dense. And you fucking suck Minho.”
He picked up his guitar and stormed out. Minho heard the front door slam in the distance.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho was trying to sleep. He lay in bed, eye mask and ear plugs in, trying to look at the backs of his eyelids. But all he could think about was Jisung. The pain in Jisung’s eyes, the quiver in his voice. The betrayal on his face. The words he had spoken, how hurt he had been that Minho didn’t want to see him after that first night. How he had said he was rejected by Chan and his friends.
And Jisung had gone out again. Jisung was probably hooking up again. Jisung was probably making some random scream with pleasure. Some random that didn’t even know him. Didn’t deserve to have his attention.
Frustrated, Minho pulled off the eye mask. Closing his eyes just meant he saw Jisung more clearly, naked, fucking into a girl on the kitchen counter.
He groaned, rolling over to check the time on his phone. 4:30am.
As if by design, the phone started ringing in his hand. He almost dropped it in surprise. It was a number he didn’t recognise.
He squinted at it. Probably a spam call. No one he knew would be calling at this hour. Most people would be in some stage of a REM cycle by now.
Still, curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled his ear plugs out and pressed accept.
“Hyung,” a soft, broken voice called down the line. Minho’s heart stopped.
“Jisung?” he breathed.
He was answered with a sob.
Minho’s heart pounded wildly, all traces of tiredness gone. “Jisung, where are you? Are you okay?”
“’m in a street. There’s no ubers. S’all busy.”
“Can you see the street name? Or just drop a pin. Can you do that?”
There was rustling on the other end, then Minho got a notification.
“Okay, I’m coming now alright? Stay there.”
“Kay.”
“And stay on the line, so I know you’re okay.”
“Okay.”
Minho grabbed his shoes, wallet and keys, and headed downstairs. It was quiet on the other end of the line. Too quiet.
“Hey Jisung?”
“Mmm?”
“Can you sing me a song? So I can hear you’re okay?”
Jisung chuckled wetly. Faint notes came through the speaker, interspersed with little sniffles. "You're just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry..."
When Minho pulled up to the location, he saw Jisung sitting on the curb, hunched up, knees to his chest, looking so very tiny and vulnerable. Minho’s heart lurched.
“Jisung?” he said softly, as he approached the little ball.
Jisung looked up, and Minho’s heart lurched again. His face was puffy and red, tear tracks crossing over, ruining his makeup.
Minho crouched down next to him and reached out a hand, hesitantly. Jisung took it and just held it for a second, staring at Minho. His eyes were full of so much pain.
Minho shuffled closer, draping an arm around him cautiously. Jisung melted into his embrace, curling up into his chest and clinging there, fresh tears making their way down his face.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jisung sobbed.
Minho just held him for a while, until the sobs subsided a little.
“Baby, what happened?” he asked gently.
“There- there was – a guy – and he wanted- but I didn’t want to- he didn't do anything, but I got scared. I ran away. Got l-lost.”
“Oh Jisung, that’s so awful, I’m so sorry, you must have been so scared.”
Jisung just clung to him tighter, sobs starting again. The wind picked up, and Jisung trembled in his arms.
“Hey, c’mon, I’m going to take you home,” Minho said comfortingly.
Jisung shook his head violently. “No, Chan will be angry at me.”
Minho gaped at him. “You don’t really think that do you? Chan cares about you. He won’t be angry.”
“He will, he will! He hates me!”
“Baby, baby. He doesn’t, really. He loves you. He will want to help.”
“No! No he won’t! He never helped before,” Jisung was clearly drunk, and getting increasingly agitated.
Minho decided not to push it, not when Jisung was in this state. “Okay, okay, we won’t go to your house. Let’s go back to my apartment then. Come on.”
Jisung looked up at him, eyes wide and blinking slowly. “Okay,” he said.
As soon as he closed the door, Jisung’s lips were on Minho’s.
Minho froze for a second, a mixture of shock and a flood of feeling at the touch of the person he had craved so much rendering him motionless. Then he came to his senses, and softly pushed Jisung off him, holding him at arm’s length.
Round, hurt eyes blinked up at him. “You don’t want me.”
Minho sighed. “Jisung, no. You know that that’s not it. But you’re way too drunk now to consent to anything, and I would never take advantage of you when you were so hurt and upset.”
Jisung pouted up at him, tears forming in his eyes once more. “Please,” he said softly. “I don’t want to think.”
Minho hardened. “And I don’t want to be just some toy to distract you. Plus I’ve told you, you’re too drunk and too upset.”
The tears spilled over and traced down Jisung’s already puffy face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m sorry.”
Minho sighed, pulling him back into his arms. “It's okay. Now come inside, let’s get you cleaned up.”
He helped Jisung down the hall, helped him change into an old t-shirt and track pants. Helped wipe the makeup off his face. Got him some water, a towel and a bucket in case he needed to be sick. Jisung was pliant and obedient, not saying anything as Minho worked.
Minho set him up in his bed, and grabbed a pillow to go to the couch.
“Minho hyung,” Jisung’s voice rang out through the night air, hesitant. Minho turned back to face him. “Could you cuddle me?”
Minho froze. He wasn’t sure where cuddling fell in the appropriate behaviours around drunk people handbook.
“Please, I won’t try anything, I swear. I just want someone close.”
Minho looked at the boy. His friend’s brother, so small and vulnerable and broken.
“Okay,” he said softly. “But only cuddling.”
Jisung nodded eagerly and Minho climbed in next to him. Jisung shuffled over until he was next to his chest. He was asleep in seconds.
Minho woke to the sounds of retching. Jisung was not in the bed. He stumbled up and to the bathroom, where the younger was draped over the toilet. He ran a soothing hand down his back while he emptied his stomach.
When he was done, Minho helped him flush and move to the basin to wash out his mouth. He rummaged in the drawer for a spare toothbrush and handed it over.
He had ibuprofen and rehydration salts waiting for him on the coffee table when he came out.
“Thanks,” Jisung said, throat raw and husky.
“Are you feeling a little better?” Minho asked.
“Yeah, yeah, a bit better now.” He took the tablets and settled back with the drink.
“Sorry for calling you in the middle of the night. And for kissing you. And forcing you to cuddle me. And throwing up in your bathroom.”
Minho chuckled. “It’s okay, I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“You’re glad I threw up in your bathroom?” Jisung said, corners of his mouth lifting a little.
“Yeah, it hasn’t been thrown up in nearly enough.”
Jisung chuckled.
Minho hesitated, before venturing cautiously, "about what happened last night at your party..."
Jisung chuckled dryly. "It wasn't that bad. A guy came onto me, really crude and sleazy and I said no. But he kept trying to convince me. Then he touched my arm and I kind of screamed 'DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME' in his face and ran off."
"Jisung, that's awful," Minho said, looking at him sadly.
"I'm alright," Jisung said with a shrug. "You know how it is."
Minho did. He loved men but sometimes he really hated them.
"Well if you want to talk about it, I'm here."
Jisung smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks hyung, but I'm really fine. I was just too drunk and emotional last night in general."
Minho let a few beats of silence pass. "I'm glad you called me," he said softly.
Jisung shrugged again, looking away. "You're all I could think about all night."
Minho's gut swirled with emotion - the words sounded so good coming from Jisung's mouth, but he knew from context that they wouldn't have been good thoughts.
His mind wandered over the events of the night, their fight by the pool, Jisung storming out, Jisung's phone call.
“By the way,” Minho asked cautiously, “how did you get my number?”
“Hyunjin gave it to me, that night you guys came to the restaurant. He slipped me it on a bit of paper when he shook my hand.”
Ah, of course, Hyunjin. Minho would normally have fried him for doing something like this, but he was glad that Jisung had called him, so his friend got to live another day.
They sat in silence for a while, Jisung sipping at the salty drink, Minho getting lost in his thoughts.
“I didn’t fuck Minkyu you know,” Jisung said quietly, breaking into Minho’s reverie.
“What?”
“Me and Minkyu, we didn’t fuck. We really are just friends.”
Okay, that didn’t make any sense.
“But, I saw you-"
“You saw us what? Talk? Friends talk Minho hyung. You saw us go upstairs together? Yeah, that’s where the bedrooms are and I invited him to crash the night. Friends can do that hyung. You and Changbin hyung do it all the time.”
Minho was surprised. “But in the morning, the way you looked at each other, and you were so touchy…”
“There’s nothing there hyung, really. I don’t like him like that, and even if he liked me, which I seriously doubt, he knows I don’t like him like that.”
Minho still wanted to protest. He opened his mouth, but Jisung saw and continued.
“You know why I was talking to him hyung? You know why I asked him to stay?” he took a breath. “I was really confused after what happened with us. I hated seeing you with those other guys. And I know I shouldn’t have interrupted, but I couldn’t stop myself. And then the blow job… I was using sex to try and keep your attention, and that wasn’t healthy for either of us. I freaked out, I freaked out about my feelings, I freaked out about what I’d done. And I saw Minkyu, and Minkyu already knows the whole story of me and you, because I’ve talked about it to him at work before. So I practically begged him to come upstairs, begged him to stay. Spent the night crying to him about you, about the mess I’d made of everything. Crying because I liked you so much but you didn’t seem to like me for anything except my body.”
Minho sat, stunned.
They both just sat, for a good few minutes, letting the confession wash over them like waves hitting the sand.
“You- you like me?” Minho tried after a while, still not trusting the statement.
“Hyung… I liked you right from the start. From that very first night. And I desperately wanted you to ask for my number, to ask to see me again, but you didn’t.”
“I- I thought I was just a one night stand for you,” Minho breathed.
“Did it seem like a one night stand hyung? We spent most of the next day together, talking, laughing. Connecting. Or so I thought.” Jisung’s eyes turned sad. “Though I guess I’d never really had a one night stand before then, so I didn’t really know how they normally went.”
“You’d never? But you-” Minho took a breath to steady himself. “You’d never had one before? You had a sachet of lube and a condom in your pocket!”
“Yeah, Felix had some lying around at his house when I went to see him. He told me to take some ‘just in case’ – which we laughed about because nothing like that ever happened to me before.”
“So that night… it was… special to you?”
“Special? Hyung I don’t think I’d ever felt that kind of connection to someone before. Sexually, physically, emotionally. It was so easy, so fun, so honest. That’s why it really hurt me when you rejected me afterwards.”
“I thought you were rejecting me.” Minho sighed in exasperation, then a thought occurred to him. “Is that why you brought all those girls home to Chan’s house? Were you trying to hurt me back?”
“I- that part’s a little more complicated hyung.”
“Can you try to explain? I really want to understand.”
“Well, after I saw you there, in the living room with Chan, when I realised you were friends, I suddenly remembered, it suddenly clicked in my brain. The memory of that night. It all came flooding back. The rejection, the pain. And I hated you for it. I hated Chan for it. So yeah, I kind of wanted to hurt you, but I also just wanted to distract myself from the pain. And since you already thought I was a fuckboy I thought... may as well.” He shrugged.
Minho furrowed his eyebrows, but listened as Jisung continued.
“I was so angry at Chan. Why could he accept you and Changbin but not me? It just made me feel like a pile of shit. And I wanted him to hurt. I wanted you to hurt. So I’ve been bratty and rude and aggravating. I tried to fuck away the memory of being with you, my feelings for you. And even though you didn’t want me, I saw the way you looked at my body and I did everything I could to rub it in your face.”
Minho was very confused. He had assumed Jisung was talking about the first night they hooked up, but Chan wasn’t there then. So what on earth was Jisung talking about?
“I don’t understand. Why were you angry at Chan after the night we met?” Minho asked gently.
Jisung sighed. “No, not that night. And that wasn’t the first time we met.” He glanced at Minho’s confused face and his own face drooped. “You really don’t remember do you? It was a night that changed me so much and you don’t even remember.”
“Can you tell me?”
Jisung sighed. “It was when I was still in high school. 18 years old. I had this friend, Seungjoon. Me and Seungjoon were really close. We did everything together, saw each other every day and never got sick of each other. We would say we loved each other all the time, we were everything to each other. Well, he was everything to me. But I started to develop feelings for him. I wanted to kiss him, I got jealous when he kissed girls. And one night I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I liked him, as more than a friend. That I was in love with him. I kissed him. But he pushed me away. Told me I was disgusting, and he hated me and he never wanted to see me again. I was heartbroken, but worse was the knowledge that someone who knew me better than anyone hated me. Rejected me, didn’t want me around. I was in a bad way. I tried calling Chan so many times. But he didn’t answer. He never answered back then. But I was so lost, so desperate that I hopped on the bus and went to his dorms.” Jisung paused, taking a few breaths. An ominous feeling started to wriggle under Minho’s skin.
“But Chan didn’t answer. Another guy did. You did.”
The ominous feeling turned into a kind of dread, seeping into Minho’s stomach, gripping him and making him unable to move. His memory slowly provided details of that night. The boy at the door, looking like he’d been sobbing for hours. The scrawny boy with a baby face, that had changed so much, but was also exactly the same. What he had said to the boy, how he had looked like his world was ending. How he had started hyperventilating and ran off into the night.
“Jisung, I-”
“Oh, you remember now do you?” Jisung’s beautiful face was marred with bitterness. “You remember telling me Chan wanted nothing to do with me because I liked guys? You remember telling me to stay away, that I made him uncomfortable? I- I was so broken after Seungjoon rejected me. And then to have my own brother do the same – but not even have the guts to tell me to my face, to talk about me to his friends, to have them do the dirty work. I- I honestly don’t know how I made it through that night. I already half hated myself for how I felt about boys, but then to have the two people I cared about the most reject me because of it- it was a pain so deep, it destroyed me. Changed me.”
Minho’s dread was transforming into pain, regret. The boy at the door. That was Jisung. Not some stalker obsessed with Chan, but his brother, who needed his help more than anything. And Minho had sent him away, told him Chan didn’t want him.
“Jisung I-” Minho tried. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
Jisung just sat, waiting for him to continue.
“I- that night, I thought you were someone else. Chan told us about a kid at work who liked him, but had been making him uncomfortable. Making comments, giving him gifts, following him. I thought that you were that kid. That’s why I told you Chan didn’t want to see you, that you were making him uncomfortable. If I had known…”
“What?” Jisung’s voice was small and weak. His eyes desperately searched Minho’s. “You’re saying Chan didn’t tell you those things? That he never said he didn’t want to see me?”
“No, he didn’t.” Minho's voice was laced with hurt and regret. “Actually I remember he was really worried about you the next day, because you’d sent a bunch of messages and called like 20 times. And when he tried to call you back you didn’t answer.”
“This is- he- I-”
“I’m truly so sorry Jisung. So so sorry. If I had just asked who you were instead of assuming, then you wouldn’t have had to go through that. Then you and Chan might have still been close. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
Jisung sat still for a few minutes. Minho wondered if he also felt like his whole perspective of the world was tilting on its axis.
“No,” Jisung croaked out eventually, “no, it’s not all your fault. You made a mistake. If Chan had been around, if he had answered my calls in the weeks leading up to that, then it wouldn’t have happened. If I had spoken to him about the things I wanted to, about my feelings, then I never would have assumed you were talking about me. I would have realised you weren’t, because I would have known that- that Chan accepted me. But he was too busy with assignments and friends, only ever had time for a quick surface chat on his way to do something or meet someone. He didn’t care enough to listen, didn’t care enough to realise I was screaming for help.”
Jisung was crying now, and Minho longed to hold him, to wipe away the tears marring his beautiful face. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Why should he get to hold Jisung when he was the one to cause this pain?
So they sat, Jisung crying, Minho awkwardly next to him. Until Jisung looked right into his face, and then Minho couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled Jisung into his arms, cradling him tight.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Minho repeated the words like a mantra. And he was crying too. Crying for all the pain he had unintentionally caused. Crying for misunderstandings that had ruined relationships and lives.
Minho wasn’t sure how long it was before the tears dried up. Hours maybe. They sat, holding each other even after the salty streams had cleared, after the pain began to dull.
“I think you should talk to Chan about this,” Minho murmured softly, afraid to break the tentative silence. “I can be there too. We can do it together. I played a big part in this.”
“You can’t blame yourself Minho. It was a mistake. And like I said, mine and Chan’s relationship was already starting to fray. It would have snapped anyway, even without you.”
“You would have talked. Chan would have got a wake up call. He would have been there for you.”
“We don’t know that. Anyway, it’s pointless to think about what ifs. This is the reality that happened. We have to make the best of it. And I will talk to Chan. But not right away. Honestly, he hasn’t been very nice to me since I’ve been back, and I don’t want him to suddenly be nice because of this, because he feels bad. I want to try opening up a little, see if he can accept me as I am, see if he can love me for me, and not just out of guilt.”
Minho wanted to argue, but he understood where Jisung was coming from. Saw his need for Chan to accept him honestly.
“Okay,” Minho said. “We won’t tell him yet.”
After a while, Jisung stood up.
“I guess I should get going, I’ve already taken up so much of your day,” he said, cracking his neck.
Minho panicked a little. The thought of being left alone with his thoughts was terrifying. He knew he didn’t deserve Jisung’s company, but he desperately wanted it.
“You can stay if you want. I don’t have any plans. We could watch a movie? Or play a game?”
Jisung looked at him, assessing. “Okay,” he said simply, and sat back down.
They ate, watched tv, went for a walk. It was nice, quiet but comfortable. The mood wasn’t exactly sad, but it definitely wasn’t as fun and vibrant as the last time they had spent so much time together. Minho didn’t mind though. This was nice too, and he didn’t feel much like being loud and playful.
“Did you mean it when you said you liked me hyung?” Jisung asked quietly as they sat on the couch, half watching an anime.
Minho hesitated. He didn’t deserve to like Jisung, not after what he did to him. But Jisung was staring at him, eyes as round as golf balls and intense despite the shyness. He deserved the truth.
“Yes,” Minho said simply. “Yes, I really like you Jisung.”
“But I’ve been such an arsehole to you,” Jisung whispered.
“You were hurting.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“Jisung, I literally caused you to lose your relationship with your brother. Let’s not play this game.”
Jisung sat in thought for a moment.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s agree then: we both let go of the past. Focus on what happens from now.”
“But-”
“Minho hyung, I’ve wasted so much of my life being hurt and scared. I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t want to dwell in the past. I want to push for the future. So can you do that for me? Can you let it go? Can you forgive yourself for what happened?”
Minho was silent. He didn’t know.
“I really like you hyung. I want to be with you one day. But it will never work if you can’t let it go.”
Minho stared at Jisung, at his nervous, hopeful face.
“I’ll try,” he said softly.
Jisung nodded. “Good. Channel Elsa.”
It took Minho a second, then he was chuckling.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“So let me get this straight. Jisung likes you. And you like Jisung. And you both admitted that to each other. But you’re not together. And you’re not even dating?” Hyunjin stared at Minho in disbelief.
“We agreed it was better to wait. Everything is still so raw, we both got hurt by each other. And he’s just starting to repair things with Channie hyung. He needs to focus on that. Plus, it wouldn’t be a great start to his new relationship with Chan hyung to be dating me in secret.”
“You guys are so frustrating! Why don’t you just tell Chan hyung, and work on healing each other while you’re together?”
“I think it’s better this way. Better to do the healing as friends, then if we still like each other, we can explore it later.”
Hyunjin made a pained noise in his throat. “What if he does things with other people while you’re waiting?”
“He won’t.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No… but I trust him. He wouldn’t. He knows how much it would hurt me.”
“I still think you should talk to him about that. But if you’re sure…” Hyunjin didn’t sound the least bit sure.
“I am. We’ve been texting quite a bit. He’s so cute and funny. I’ve been encouraging him to reach out to Chan hyung, ask him to do something together.”
“Do you think he will?”
“Yeah, he seems like he wants to try having a relationship with him.”
“Well I’m glad. I like Jisung, and I like Chan hyung. It’ll be good if they can be friendly again.”
“Yeah, it will.”
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho, Chan and Changbin were watching a show, draped around the living room when Jisung came in, looking very nervous. He stood in the doorway, fidgeting with his jacket.
Minho paused the TV. They all turned to face him.
“Hey Chan, I have tickets for this special anniversary screening of Titanic tonight. Felix was supposed to come with me, but he can’t now.” Jisung spoke so fast it was almost unintelligible. He took a deep breath, glancing at Minho. Minho smiled at him encouragingly. He continued, slower this time. “I was wondering if you might want to come with me? You know, cos we used to play Titanic all the time when we were little.”
Chan stared at him, eyes wide. “You- you want to go with me?”
Jisung shrugged. “I mean I have the tickets anyway. It would be a waste not to use them.”
Chan glanced at Minho and Changbin, clearly torn.
“That’s so cool, you guys should definitely go!” Minho said, smiling wide. “Me and Bin have to go do something anyways.”
Changbin looked at him, perplexed. “What do you mean? What do we have to do?”
“You know, that thing.” Minho enunciated the words, hoping Changbin would catch on.
“Oh right, yeah, we do.” Thank fuck.
“Well, I mean if you want to go, sure,” Chan said.
“Okay, well it starts at 7 at the Sunshine theatre. Would you be able to drive?”
“Yeah, sure,” Chan said, still looking shell shocked.
“Cool, let’s leave at 6:30.”
Chan nodded, and Jisung walked upstairs.
“What- what was that?” Chan asked, bewildered.
“You’re going on a brother date! How cute!” Changbin teased.
Chan punched him.
“Seems like he’s trying to reach out hyung,” Minho said. “How do you feel about it?”
“Suspicious,” Chan said. “He hasn’t made any effort to spend any time with me since he’s been back. Why now?”
“Maybe he’s realising that he wants to get to know you again.”
“Maybe.”
Minho smiled, patting his arm. “This is a good thing hyung, really.” He stood up. “Now, I’m off to the bathroom. I can feel something brewing, might be a while.”
“Thanks, for letting us know. Very vital information,” Changbin quipped. Minho flicked his ear.
Minho headed upstairs and down the hallway. He paused outside Jisung’s room, before calling as softly as he could through the door.
“Jisung?”
The door creaked open, and there he was, fidgeting with his watch.
A wave of emotion swelled up in Minho’s chest.
“I’m so proud of you Jisung,” he said, smiling widely. Unable to stop himself, he reached forwards and pulled Jisung into a hug. “That must have been really hard.”
“What if it’s awkward? What if I still can’t let him in? What if I do and he decides he still hates me?”
“Baby,” Minho cooed, the pet name slipping out unconsciously as he ran soothing hands down his back. “It probably will be awkward, and you probably won’t be able to let him in right away. But this, this is a really good step. This shows him that you want to get closer, that you’re willing to try. No matter how weird or awkward it is, this is such a good thing. And he won’t hate you. He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t understand you, doesn’t know you. And once he does, he’s going to love you just as much as he ever did. But that will take time, yeah?”
Jisung nodded, head still buried in Minho’s chest.
“Now I better get back, but you can do this. Baby steps.” He hesitated for a second, before planting a soft kiss on the top of Jisung’s head, then leaving before Jisung could see how much he was blushing.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho waited until late that evening to message.
Minho
Hey Jisungie how did it go?
He watched the message turn to read, the typing stop and start a few times, before his phone started to ring.
He pressed accept and held it to his ear.
“Sorry to call hyung, it was just a lot to write out,” Jisung’s voice sounded a little different over the phone.
“No problem Sungie, how was it?”
“It was good actually. Chan bought us popcorn, and when I was crying at the end he put a hand on my arm to comfort me.”
“That’s really cute! Did you guys talk much?”
“Well, most of the time was just watching the movie. But he took us out to get ice cream after, and we chatted a bit. Just light stuff, about my band and his job.”
“That sounds really great. Really positive. How do you feel about it?”
“It felt nice. Nice to talk to him again. It’s been a really long time.”
“I’m so glad Sung, you have no idea.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Everything okay Sung?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything is great, just – thank you for encouraging me to do this hyung.”
“No problem. Are you sleeping soon?” Suddenly Minho was very anxious. What if Jisung was stressed and decided to go out drinking?
“Yeah, just gonna listen to some music and relax a bit first. Good night hyung.”
Minho tried not to sigh in relief. “Goodnight Sung.”
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“The first High School Musical is clearly superior in every way!” Minho declared, standing to drive home his point.
“Are you kidding? Are you going to deny the whole existence of Bet on it?” Changbin retorted, also standing.
They both turned to Chan angrily. “Don’t look at me,” he said, raising his palms in a placating gesture. “You know I like the third one.”
“Soaringggg flyingggg,” Minho started singing, in his loudest voice.
“I’m not gonna stop, that’s who I am,” Changbin bellowed over the top. Chan covered his ears.
There was an awkward cough from behind them and they stopped singing abruptly and turned to see Jisung standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised.
Minho flushed bright red.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” Changbin exclaimed.
Jisung chuckled. “Really? looks like you were having a High School Musical off.”
Chan laughed. “That’s exactly what they were doing.”
Minho wanted to melt into the floor. The guy he liked, the beyond cool, hot, musician in a rock band, had just caught him screaming the lyrics to High School Musical, of all things.
“I was going to make homemade pizzas. I have heaps of ingredients though, if you guys want some too?” Jisung said, glancing around at them shyly.
“Oh!” Chan said, smiling in surprise, “that would be great. Do you need help with the dough?”
“Nah, I made it earlier, it’s been rising for a few hours. You guys just need to tell me what toppings you like.”
“Don’t be silly, we can make our own ones, you’ve done enough already.”
“Yeah!” Minho chimed in, shelving his embarrassment, “we’ll come make our own.”
They all filed into the kitchen, rolling out the dough and choosing their toppings. Changbin got frustrated because his dough kept sticking to the rolling pin.
Jisung laughed at his swearing and grabbed the flour and pin to help him. God Minho loved the sound of Jisung’s laugh. It was almost unbearably cute, just filled with unfiltered joy. He couldn’t help the fond smile as he gazed at him. Jisung seemed to feel it, meeting Minho’s eyes before blushing and looking away.
Minho turned to find Chan looking at him with a curious expression on his face.
He cleared his throat and went back to slicing mushrooms.
When the pizzas were done, they moved back to the living room.
“We’re going to watch one of the High School Musicals, do you want to join?” Chan asked as Jisung hovered awkwardly in the kitchen.
Minho was about to butt in, suggesting they watch something else, something more Jisung’s style, when he spoke up.
“Uh, yeah, sure, if you don’t mind,” Jisung said.
“Great. You can choose which one, as you saw before, there’s been some disagreements about it.” Chan chuckled.
“Gotta be the first one,” Jisung said, throwing a smile Minho’s way. “Can’t beat the original.”
Minho beamed at him, then turned to Changbin and stuck his tongue out at him.
They settled down with their pizzas, Minho quietly thrilled that Jisung had chosen to sit in between him and Chan. It was a big couch, but somehow Jisung’s thigh ended up against his. The closeness made Minho tingle.
Once the pizza was done and cleared away, Chan threw a blanket over them as the weather had cooled.
And as Gabriella sang about her heartbreak over Troy, Minho felt a warm hand touch the back of his under the blanket. It rested there, setting Minho alight with giddy internal squeals, before moving slightly and slipping into his own, long, calloused fingers entwining with his.
Minho stared straight ahead, at the movie he was not paying any attention to, afraid that if he looked at Jisung he wouldn’t be able to hide the strength of his affection for him.
They held hands for the rest of the movie, and Minho was dangerously smitten, falling deeper and deeper.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho
Hey sung!
What are you up to?
Jisung
Hi Minho hyung
I’m just watching Wednesday with Chan
Minho
You’re watching together??
Jisung
Yeah
It’s become… kind of our thing I guess
Minho
💖🥺💖
I’m crying
Jisung
Pfft hyung
It’s just a tv show
Minho
But it’s your thing! You have a thing now
😭
Jisung
You’re so silly
I like it
Minho
😊
I like…
potatoes
Jisung
😂
i like potatoes too hyung
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“How’s things with Jisung?” Minho asked Chan casually as they sat around the lounge room. The band was practising in the garage.
It had been a few weeks since Minho and Jisung's big talk, and Jisung had been acting more like the guy he met on their first night. More open, less arrogant and antagonising, more cute and funny. He was clearly still feeling vulnerable and hesitant about everything though, which made him seek comfort in Minho when he could - little hugs, comforting touches when no one was looking. He seemed to lean into the fact that they liked each other. To treat Minho as his safe space. It made Minho want to hold him close and never let go.
Chan smiled. “It’s… really good actually. It’s so weird, I have no idea what happened, but suddenly he wants to talk, wants to spend time together. He’s changed so much, it’s actually crazy.”
“I don’t think he’s changed,” Minho said gently. “I just think maybe he’s started to trust you now.”
Chan thought about that for a minute. “Maybe. I guess it would have been hard for him coming back here, seeing me again after so long.”
“Yeah, it would be.”
Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. Minho’s heart stopped. Jisung.
He glanced at Chan, who’s face reflected his own, and they ran towards the sound.
Swinging open the garage door, they saw Jisung jumping around in circles with Felix, beaming and laughing.
Minho breathed a sigh of relief.
“Jisung, you scared me,” Chan said, holding his chest.
Jisung looked over and stopped spinning. “Sorry,” he said, “didn’t mean to be so loud.”
“What are you celebrating?” Chan asked, looking around at their elated faces.
“We got our first gig!” Jeongin blurted.
“You did?” Chan looked back to Jisung. He nodded. “Oh my god, that’s amazing, congratulations!”
Jisung beamed and blushed a little.
“When and where is it? I’ll invite everyone I know,” Chan said, pulling out his phone.
“Oh, you don’t have to come,” Jisung said sincerely.
Chan looked at him like he was crazy. “I want to come. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Jisung looked like his mouth might split open from smiling. Minho’s heart was going to burst.
“How did it happen?” Changbin asked, coming in behind Minho. “Did you audition for them or something?”
“Actually, it was all Jisung,” Seungmin said, gesturing for Jisung to explain.
“Right. Well I filled in for this band at a bar a few months ago. The band remembered me, put in a good word for us when a spot opened up on the line-up.”
Jisung glanced at Minho when he mentioned the night, looking away quickly as if afraid to give them away. Minho tried not to flush at the memories that swarmed his head. Him pressed against the door, riding Jisung on the bed, taking Jisung in the kitchen…
He shook his head slightly to clear it. Would be very suspicious to get a boner right now.
“You guys will have to think of a name now,” Chan said thoughtfully.
“Actually we already talked about it the other day,” Jeongin chimed in. “We’re Austra-sized!”
“Ostracized?” Chan asked, curious.
“Yeah. But spelt A u s t r a - s i z e d.”
“Oh. Why?” Changbin asked.
“Because we’re going to be as big as Australia. And Felix is Australian, and I lived there as well.” Jisung was looking at them, insecure. “What do you think? Is it silly?”
“I like it,” Minho said. “I love the word play.”
“Yeah, the double meaning is sick!” Chan added.
Jisung beamed.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The levels of nervous energy in Chan’s house were setting Minho on edge. Four anxious band members and one anxious volunteer roadie brother were making the very atoms in the air thrum.
“Sung, can you check the list one more time? I wanna make sure I haven’t forgotten anything,” Chan called, and Jisung looked it over, muttering to himself.
“I think that’s all, Seungmin can you check too?” he replied.
The doorbell rang, and Minho bounded over to open it.
Hyunjin was there with his makeup case and a suitcase.
“Thank god,” Minho said, giving him a quick hug, “everyone is freaking out, I need someone sane.” He turned to address the room.
“Guys, this is my friend Hyunjin. He’s here to help with makeup and outfits for anyone that wants some.”
Hyunjin waved at everyone, before greeting Chan and Changbin then turning to Jisung.
“Jisung! So good to see you again,” he said, smiling and shaking his hand.
Chan shot him a confused look. “You two know each other?”
Minho froze.
Luckily Hyunjin was on the ball. “Oh, Jisung was playing at the restaurant me and Minho were eating at one time. He introduced us.”
“Oh, that’s cool. You didn’t tell me you saw him at the restaurant Minho.”
Minho shrugged.
“I haven’t been yet,” Chan continued, looking disappointed. Minho could almost see him making plans in his head.
Hyunjin introduced himself to the other band members, then launched into discussing their looks for the night.
He started to go upstairs with them to help them get ready, but paused to speak to Jisung. “Make sure you come up soon, I have something special planned for you.”
Jisung’s eyes widened as he nodded.
The look Hyunjin shot Minho as he walked off had Minho fearing for his sanity.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho was right to be scared. When Jisung finally came downstairs, all Minho could do was stare. And blink. And stare. And try not to drool.
Jisung’s hair had been styled to give it a bit of volume and was parted over his forehead. His eye makeup was dark and smokey, and silver accessories contrasted beautifully with his golden skin.
The kicker though, was his outfit. Loose black pants tucked into big black boots. A chunky belt around his waist, making it look extra tiny. And a sleeveless vest. A sleeveless vest that showed off all his gorgeous arm muscles. A sleeveless vest that was very low cut. So low cut that Minho could see Jisung’s cleavage, and the beginning of his abs.
Now, not only did Minho love having his chest sucked and played with (by Jisung at least). But he also liked to touch and play with other people’s chests: a fact which Hyunjin definitely knew, and that had definitely been used against him.
Jisung’s outrageous pecs were just sitting there, begging to be squeezed, and Minho could not look away. He heard Hyunjin giggle, and managed to flick his eyes to him for a second – he was clearly loving this. The bastard.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Minho should have prepared himself more. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. Because he was not prepared. Not prepared in the slightest for the assault on his wellbeing. He should have realised. Realised that this time, Jisung had practised a lot more. This time, Jisung was with his own band, people he knew. This time he was singing. This time he was not the unknown unattainable guitar player. He was Jisung, who Minho had taken apart by the seams. Who had worshipped Minho’s body. Who he clicked with, sparked with. Who he liked, an insane amount.
Minho had been captivated by Jisung the first time he saw him play at this bar. This time he was completely conquered by him.
Jisung moved about the stage like he owned it, oozing charisma from every pore in his body. He hit every note, voice raspy and delicious, hands moving smoothly as if by magic to play the melodies. He interacted with the audience, flirting with them, and with his bandmates, hyping them up, bringing an electric energy to everyone around him. Minho was in awe.
When Jisung hopped down from the stage he was immediately swarmed by women. Women flirting, women asking for pictures, giving phone numbers, offering drinks, touching his arms, his shoulders, his back.
Minho’s heart beat double time, insecurity raising it's ugly head. Maybe Jisung wanted to hook up with one of them. Maybe he would.
Minho turned away, no longer able to look at Jisung smiling at them. He tried to listen to what Hyunjin, Changbin and Chan were talking about but his mind wouldn’t focus. Was too busy thinking about Jisung and all those attractive women.
He started as a hand gently rested on his lower back for a second, and turned to see Jisung there, smiling his beautiful heart shaped smile.
“Jisung!” Chan exclaimed, “you were amazing! Like I’ve never seen that much charisma and stage presence, you were totally unreal!”
“Thank you Chan hyung, that means a lot.”
Chan gripped Minho’s arm, turning to him when Jisung turned to talk to Hyunjin.
His eyes gleamed with surprise and adoration.
“He called me hyung,” Chan breathed, looking like he was about to either cry or jump up and down squealing.
If Minho wasn’t internally squealing so hard himself he definitely would have teased Chan for being such a sap. One ‘hyung’ from Jisung and Chan would have forgiven him anything.
“I understand why all those girls are drooling over you. That was like sex on stage. I think I’m pregnant,” Hyunjin was saying to Jisung as Minho tuned back in.
Jisung blushed and hit him playfully, before turning his eyes to Minho expectantly.
When Minho didn’t answer straight away he prompted, “Minho hyung? What did you think? How was it?”
Shit. What could Minho say that was appropriate for Chan to hear?
“I- uh- you-”
“You’ve made him speechless,” Hyunjin chuckled. He rubbed Minho’s back. “It’s okay, you can tell Jisung later.”
“How long until your next set?” Chan asked.
“About half an hour. I might grab a drink.”
“Don’t be silly, Minho will get it for you,” Hyunjin said.
“Actually the band gets free drinks,” Jisung said.
“Oh, perfect. Minho can help you carry them then.”
Jisung turned to Minho and smiled, shrugging his shoulders.
He walked towards the bar, Minho following.
An extremely cute girl came to take their order.
“Five double blacks please,” Jisung quipped, smiling at her.
She eyed him suspiciously. “You know it’s only the band that gets free drinks, and I just served your bandmates a couple of minutes ago.”
Jisung shot her his best, most beaming smile. “Yeah, one of these is for me. The others are for our stylist and two roadies over there.” He gestured back to their group.
“And the fifth one?”
“That’s for this cutie here, he’s my groupie.” Jisung flashed Minho a cheeky, heart shaped smile and nudged him playfully.
Minho tried to glare at him, but failed miserably, instead smiling and blushing helplessly.
The girl sighed. “Fine. But only because you two are so adorable.”
“Thank you Anna,” Jisung sing-songed, smiling in triumph.
There was a DJ playing between sets, so after they had their drinks they headed to the dancefloor to let off some steam. Most of the band’s nerves seemed to have dissipated so they bounced around together, enjoying the atmosphere until their next set.
Each of the band’s sets got somehow progressively better through the night. Minho was amazed – how was that even possible when the first one had been so good?
And Jisung… he got more and more sexy, more energetic, more charismatic. It was truly an experience to behold. And god, Minho was down so very bad for him. He silently thanked Hyunjin for telling him to wear the tight underwear and oversized shirt, because he was hard almost the whole time. He recorded a few songs with his phone to use for totally innocent purposes later. Just a few though. He wanted to be present to soak up all of the energy, to jump around, screaming the lyrics out and headbanging. To wolf whistle and yell after every song – their friends somehow making more noise than the rest of the audience combined, even though there were only 4 of them. And not because people weren’t cheering. They just had a natural gift for loudness.
Once Austra-sized’s final set ended, the band took extravagant bows and almost collapsed down off the stage. They made their way over to the group, lapping up the endless praises.
Jisung came to stand next to Minho. He was literally dripping sweat, little beads soaking his hair and making it even sexier, rolling down his chest, traversing the hills of his cleavage. Minho couldn’t help but stare, transfixed. He knew he was being too obvious tonight. But what was he supposed to do? The guy he liked looked like pure sex and he was only human. A very gay human.
“Celebration shots?” Felix called, and they all headed over to the bar. Jisung successfully wrangled them for free from Anna and they toasted to the band’s success.
“We better pack up our stuff before we do any more drinking,” Seungmin said.
Jisung pouted, “ergh, I can’t be fucked right now.”
And Seungmin was a stronger man than Minho because the pout seemed to have no effect on him. “C’mon the sooner we finish the sooner we party,” he said.
It didn’t take long with everyone helping and they downed more drinks before moving to the dancefloor.
Minho felt like he was possessed. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from Jisung even for a second. It definitely did not help that this dancefloor was the first place they kissed. The memories were so fresh in his mind, as if it was yesterday. He longed for more.
Jisung moved so well to the music. He had no dance training but he found the beat and moved his body to it in a way that was addictive. Minho couldn’t do this. Couldn’t just stand here watching. He had to have him.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he declared loudly, before heading off.
Please, he begged the universe. Please let Jisung come after me.
He entered the little room and waited, impatiently, checking himself in the mirror. No sign of Jisung. Sighing, he went to the urinal to actually pee. He didn’t know what he expected, the universe had let him down until now, why would it suddenly start cooperating?
Minho was mid-stream when the door banged open.
Minho didn’t bother to turn, it was common decency to keep your eyes down when relieving yourself.
But the person didn’t step any further into the room, and Minho did end up turning to see what was up.
“Shit, sorry hyung, I didn’t realise- I thought maybe- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Jisung was flushed bright red. He turned to leave hastily.
“Jisung, wait!” Minho called, cursing the alcohol for the sheer volume of urine.
Luckily, Jisung stopped. He waited awkwardly for Minho to finish and wash his hands.
Ah universe, you’ve done it again, Minho thought. So much for a sexy rendezvous in the bathroom, instead Jisung got a front row view of his toileting.
It was okay, Minho could come back from this. He stepped closer to Jisung.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hey,” Jisung replied, eyes darting around.
“I can’t stop watching you. On stage, on the dancefloor. You’re so talented, and so fucking sexy I could scream.”
Jisung flushed even more, before trying to claw some of his confidence back. “You’re so lucky you get to watch me,” he said, only the slightest uncertainty in his voice.
“I am.”
“Minho, I- we-”
“Please Jisung, please let me kiss you before I go fucking insane. Please, before my brain explodes all over this fucking bathroom.”
Jisung looked up at Minho. His eyes dropped to his lips.
Minho’s heart rate doubled.
“Okay hyung. Kiss me,” he breathed, leaning forward into Minho’s space.
Minho didn’t need to be told twice. His lips were on Jisung’s in an instant, and he pressed against him, as close as he could, trying to taste more, get deeper. He wanted to consume this man.
Rational thought abandoned him as he pressed impossibly closer, licked impossibly deeper, surrendered himself to the desire that had been building like raging water behind a dam. A dam that had now broken, the feeling rushing wildly out, consuming his every movement.
Jisung was letting out little whiny moans as Minho bit at his lips, sucked on his tongue. It was filthy, sloppy, desperate, but Minho couldn’t get enough. His body screamed for more as he pushed Jisung against the wall, grinding against him, moaning in want, heat already painful in his pants.
“Hyung,” Jisung whined, and Minho was ready to give this man everything, ready to surrender himself completely.
But suddenly Jisung was pushing him away, stepping aside quickly.
The door opened a second later, luckily a guy they didn’t know. He cast them a suspicious look as he went about his business.
Once he left, Minho sighed in frustration and relief. He pulled Jisung into his arms. “Do you think we can tell people soon?” he breathed, eyes hopeful. “I really want to date you Jisung.”
“Hyung, you’re the one who didn’t even want to tell anyone about our hookup.”
“Right,” Minho said, really regretting that choice right now.
“Can I – can I ask why that was? Why didn’t you want anyone knowing?” Jisung sounded insecure.
Minho sighed, gazing into Jisung’s eyes. “I guess it was just instinct at first – I was caught off guard, and I was… I dunno, just really surprised. And then after, Chan was so weird about even the idea that Changbin might like you, so it seemed best not to mention our thing.”
“Changbin said he liked me?”
Minho slapped Jisung lightly. “You know he thirsts over you. Not as much as me, obviously, but he doesn’t hide his attraction.”
Jisung smirked. “Really now?”
Minho whined.
“Just kidding,” Jisung grinned, reaching out to hold Minho’s hand. "You know I like you. And I think I’m almost ready to tell Chan hyung everything. Maybe I should tell him what happened with us as well. Would you be okay with that?”
Minho barely hesitated before nodding. Surely Chan would get over any reservations and be happy they liked each other. He might not feel great about the lying, but there wasn’t much they could do about that now.
“I can’t wait to take you out to fancy places,” Minho said wistfully. “Like places with tablecloths.”
“Fancy,” Jisung breathed, planting a kiss on Minho’s lips before extracting himself and leaving the room with a smile.
The rest of the night was fun. They all got pretty smashed, except for Chan who was designated driver. They mainly danced and drank together, and Minho thought he did a pretty good job of not staring at Jisung constantly. He would say he only stared about 80% of the time, an amazing accomplishment considering how much he’d had to drink and how hot Jisung was.
For those same reasons, Minho couldn’t be blamed for his reaction when girls came near, wanting to talk to the guitarist. He used his body to get between them, blocking them from approaching, or dragging Jisung away. Minho thought he was pretty subtle about it too and congratulated himself for that also.
And, it wasn’t Minho’s fault that Jisung snuggled up to him in the van, or that Minho followed him into Jisung’s room before a drunk Changbin caught him and dragged him back to Chan’s.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The next morning, Minho’s phone buzzed with a message way too early to be acceptable. He groaned, going to silence it until he saw the contact name on the screen. He pulled up the messages quickly.
Jisung
Hyung
You awake?
can you come to the pool for a sec?
Minho
Yeah, I’m awake
I’ll be right down
When Minho stumbled to the pool, shielding his eyes from the inconsiderate sunlight, he saw Jisung standing there nervously.
He waved hello before Minho gathered him in his arms, holding him tight.
He pulled back, asking, “what did you want to talk about?”
Jisung hesitated. “I know we kind of talked about this last night,” he said, fidgeting with his jacket. “But I think I’m ready… I want to tell Chan hyung about what happened back then. Today.”
“You do? That’s great Sungie.”
“Yeah, I think it’s time. I think I trust him. But hyung… do you think you could be there when I do? To explain that night, with the mix up?”
“Of course, it’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you.”
Jisung smiled at him softly, gratefully. Then he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Minho.
“You’ve been so supportive hyung, thank you for everything.”
Minho’s heart thrummed.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
Their friends hung out for most of the day, before slowly heading to their own houses. When it was just the Han brothers and Minho, Jisung approached his brother.
“Hey Chan hyung, when you have some time do you think we could have a proper talk?”
“Yeah Sung, of course. We can do it in about half an hour? Gotta finish this washing.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Jisung walked up the stairs to his room.
Minho excused himself to use the toilet.
“How are you feeling? Have you planned what you want to say?” He asked a Jisung that had flung himself into Minho’s arms the moment he opened the door.
“I feel sick. But I think I’ve got a basic idea,” Jisung replied, breathing Minho in deeply.
“You’ve got this angel,” Minho said, kissing his forehead.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“Okay,” Chan said after the washing was finished, “I better go talk to Sung.” He looked at Minho pointedly, probably expecting him to take the hint and go home.
Ah. This was awkward.
Minho was trying to think of how to word his refusal, when Jisung came down the stairs. “It’s okay, I asked him to stay,” he said.
Chan shot them a confused look.
“I’m kind of directly involved…” Minho added.
“What?” Chan looked between them suspiciously.
“Just…” Jisung sat down on the couch. He gestured to the others. Minho sat next to him, Chan on the other couch.
“Okay,” Jisung said, taking a deep breath. Minho couldn’t resist squeezing his hand. Chan noticed, but didn’t say anything.
“Firstly… I don’t really like to label myself, but- but I’m not straight hyung. I like guys as well.”
Woah, what a strong start. Minho squeezed his hand again, so proud.
“Wow, Sung, that’s…” Chan blinked, looking surprised, before collecting himself. “Thank you for telling me. I know it must have been hard. And I hope you know that I love you no matter what.”
Jisung looked a bit unsure. “Actually hyung, I didn’t really know that. I mean I’ve known I felt like this for a long time…”
“Oh, and you didn’t think you could tell me,” Chan murmured, looking a little hurt. “Why Sung? What happened to us? Why did you stop wanting anything to do with me?”
“I- that’s- that’s a long story. Let me back up a bit and explain. Remember we used to be really close before you went away to uni?” Chan nodded.
“Well, with you gone I started to get closer to my friends, one of them in particular, Seungjoon. I did a lot of things with him, kind of replaced you with him I guess. I loved him so much, he was my everything. But I started to realise my feelings for him weren’t just platonic. I started to like him, to want to kiss him.
I was so confused. And I wanted to tell you, to talk to you about it, but you were so busy with your new life and your new friends. Every time we talked you were just heading out, or you were in between classes, or at some party. So I didn’t get to tell you, and it just kept building and building until it kind of exploded.”
Jisung drew a shaky breath. Minho squeezed his hand tighter. “I- I kissed Seungjoon. Told him I loved him. He got really angry at me. He spat at me, called me a disgusting pervert, told me to never talk to him again.”
Jisung blinked rapidly, desperately holding his tears.
“I was broken. He was everything to me and he told me I was disgusting. And you weren’t answering your phone. I felt so, so alone. So desperate. So I got on the night bus and came to your dorm.”
“You what? I don’t remember that,” Chan interrupted.
“That- that’s where Minho hyung comes in,” Jisung said, turning to him.
Minho cleared his throat. He turned to Chan. “Remember when you worked at the café hyung? And you said one of the boys there was making you uncomfortable, even following you?” he paused. Chan nodded. “Well, I opened the door to this kid in the middle of the night and I assumed it must be him. I was pretty drunk at the time. I told him that he made you uncomfortable, that you wanted nothing to do with him except when absolutely necessary. And he ran off crying.”
“Yeah.” The tears were pooling in Jisung’s eyes now, and one broke free and trickled down his cheek. He tried to collect himself. “I assumed Minho hyung was talking about me. I mean it seemed to fit exactly. Plus I’d already been rejected by the person closest to me, it seemed logical that another would do the same.”
Chan sat staring between them, open mouthed. The silence stretched on endlessly.
Finally, he spoke. “What kind of bullshit Romeo and Juliet communication is this?”
Jisung chuckled wetly. “I always hated that play.”
“So, hang on, you came to our dorm to find me, and Minho hyung thought you were some other stalker guy and sent you away, told you I didn’t want you around? And you believed him?”
Jisung nodded. “It seemed reasonable at the time.”
Chan came over, kneeling on the floor in front of Jisung, holding his other hand. “I’m so sorry Sung, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there that night either. I’m so sorry you felt like I was disgusted by you, that I rejected you. I would have never done that.” And Chan was crying, pressing his face into Jisung’s hand.
“I think I know that now,” Jisung murmured, tears flowing unchecked. “But back then it just seemed logical. I hated myself so much, Seungjoon hated me, my other friends too. It made sense that you did as well. So I stayed away after that.”
“God, no wonder you were so standoffish and rude when you moved back. You thought I didn’t want anything to do with you because you liked guys. That I was pretending none of that even happened. God, I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me.”
“I’m sorry too hyung, I should have known you never would have thought that. At the very least I should have asked you about it. But I didn’t, I assumed the worst about you.”
“It’s okay Sung. I wish you had talked to me, but I understand you felt like you couldn’t. And I hadn’t been a very good brother. I should have listened to you. Should have realised something was wrong.”
Minho felt his own eyes moisten as he watched Jisung pull Chan into him, holding him tightly as they both sobbed.
They stayed like that for a long time, the embrace filled with hurt, regret, but mostly with love. And Minho knew it would take a while, but they would be okay.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
“Get your arse in the van Changbin, we don’t have all day!” Chan yelled into the house.
Minho chuckled, then flicked his eyes to Jisung in the back seat, heart skipping when he saw the younger smile and wink at him. He turned back around quickly, so no one would see the blush spreading over his cheeks.
Luckily, Changbin’s noisy arrival distracted any potential observers, and they set off, windows down and radio blasting.
“How are you always so slow Changbin hyung?” Jisung asked, teasingly.
“I like to take my time,” Changbin replied, “comes in handy in the bedroom - I can last for hours.” He smirked and wriggled his eyebrows at Jisung.
“Everyone already knows you sleep forever Changbin,” Minho agreed, purposefully ignoring the obvious innuendo to satisfy his need to interrupt.
The rest of the group burst into giggles. Teasing Changbin had quickly become one of their favourite pastimes when they hung out all together like this. It happened more and more frequently these days, Jisung’s band had kind of merged with Minho’s group, and Hyunjin had even started tagging along. Minho suspected this may be more due to his obvious affection for a certain band member, but Minho enjoyed having him around just the same.
The ride was filled with laughter and singing, and Minho felt a moment of pure happiness. It took up his whole being, the joy like a huge bubble of light.
When they pulled into the car park, Minho’s senses were assaulted with the smell of salty air, the sound of the waves crashing on the sand. The feel of the sun on his skin.
He breathed in deep as he waited for the others to pile out of the van.
“Yo, Minho, stop being so lazy and help with all the stuff,” Hyunjin called. “You and Jisung can carry the cooler.”
The statement reminded Minho that he hadn’t told Hyunjin about any recent Jisung developments - that they had made out at the gig, that it felt like they now had a secret little thing, even though they weren’t dating and hadn’t had sex.
That they snuck away to talk to each other alone, that they shared hugs and forehead kisses and little pecks. That Jisung was at times adorable and shy, easily flustered by the tiniest things, but also sometimes a menace, teasing and confidently flaunting himself. That Minho liked both sides of him a ridiculous amount. That he was so besotted it was honestly disgusting.
They had talked again about telling Chan and decided to give it a little longer, to let him and Jisung have some time to bond properly before doing anything to potentially disrupt their new relationship. Minho had agreed at the time, and agreed they shouldn’t do anything else physical until they did, but now… he was kind of regretting it. He wanted nothing more than to take Jisung on a cute date, to hold hands as they walked around the city, to kiss those lips that haunted his dreams.
And… do other things as well…
The man in question nudged him lightly, nodding his head to the cooler and raising his eyebrow. “Where were you just now?”
Minho jumped a little. “I- I was thinking about you actually.” Why could he feel his face heating up?
“Oh,” Jisung said, very obviously noticing the blush on his cheeks. “They must have been some good thoughts to have you so red baby. Feel free to continue as we lift this thing.”
Minho glared at his smug face, picking up one side. It was huge, and heavy, full of alcohol and other drinks.
Minho noticed Jisung was sweating by the time they set it in the sand under their freshly constructed beach tent. Not that he was imagining licking the little beads up or anything. He was just observant.
They spread out beach mats and towels, stripping down to their board shorts. Minho paused. This was such a public place. There were so many strangers around. Strangers that would see him. See his body.
He glanced around at the group of guys around him, currently taking turns to whip each other with their towels. At Jisung, who was laughing as he dodged a blow from Seungmin.
He reached up and pulled his shirt off.
And… nothing happened. No one looked at him or said anything. No children ran screaming. No women shielded their eyes or fainted. He spread out his towel and lay down.
“Hyung, I think you might need some sunscreen,” Jisung said, coming to stand over him. “I can help you with it if you need. You know how important it is to be sun smart.” His face held a sweet, innocent smile, but his eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Good point Jisung! Everyone put on sunscreen!” Chan called, to a chorus of begrudging groans.
“I guess I might need help with my back,” Minho said warily, sitting up, and Jisung smirked and came to kneel behind him.
Minho subtly placed his hat in his lap. He knew Jisung well enough to know how this was going to go.
Really, it wouldn’t have mattered what Jisung did. The mere fact that he was touching Minho’s bare skin would have had Minho hard anyway. The fact that Jisung’s hands were rubbing so sensually, that they dipped so low, that he pressed a kiss to the back of Minho’s neck when no one was looking - well that was just the nail in the extremely hard coffin.
“Now you do me!” Jisung smiled, after what was a suspiciously long time.
He plonked himself in front of Minho and handed him the tube. Minho stared at the skin before him. Jisung had been working out every day with Chan to get to know him better, and quite frankly, it was unfair. Jisung’s back looked like a Dorito. His shoulders were so wide and his waist was so tiny. Minho couldn’t stop himself imagining grabbing it as he bent Jisung over and fucked into him.
A cough interrupted his thoughts, and Jisung was turning to whisper to him. “I know I’m hot, but you’re being a little suspicious just staring like that.”
Minho jolted out of his fantasy and tried to not think about how good Jisung’s skin felt as he slathered him up.
They spent the day drinking, talking and mucking around. Felix and Jeongin lost their game of Mafia and were carried and thrown into the water as punishment, screaming the whole way.
They stayed in the water a while, letting the strong waves beat their bodies around, pushing and pulling and crashing into them if they weren’t paying attention enough to brace themselves or duck underneath. It was fun, and strangely therapeutic getting totally pummelled by the ocean, feeling as small as a leaf, battered around by something so big and powerful. It was exhausting though, and Minho went back to the sand after a while to lie down and read his book in the sun.
He was immersed in the story when a shadow fell over him.
“Hey,” said a very attractive guy wearing a very tight, revealing swimsuit. “Uh, I was wondering if you would like to play volleyball with me and my friends,” he said, gesturing towards a group of guys nearby.
“Oh,” Minho was taken aback. “I’m, uh- not very good at sports. I’d rather not, sorry.”
“Right, sure, of course.” The man hesitated before squatting down next to him.
“I’m Jason,” he said, offering his hand.
“Minho,” he replied, sitting up.
“So, Minho, you enjoying your day? You guys ’ve got a nice setup here. I’m lowkey jealous.”
Minho smiled at him politely. “Yeah, it’s been really good. My friends are just in the water, but I got a bit sick of the taste of salt.”
Jason laughed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to swallow it babe.”
Babe? Was this guy hitting on him? Him, out of all the ripped hunks lying around on the sand? He told himself off. That might just be what this guy called everyone.
“The sea kinda goes wherever it wants. Including in my mouth.”
“I’d like to go in your mouth,” Jason replied with a smirk, putting a hand on Minho’s arm.
Minho was stunned for a second, then floundered for an answer.
“Hey!” Jisung’s voice cut in, and he smiled widely at them, flipping his sopping hair off his face. Minho watched, entranced, as little droplets ran down his exposed neck. He couldn’t stop his eyes from travelling lower, taking in the pecs, the abs, the arms, the waist.
Jisung sat down next to him, much closer than he had been before, and Minho burned with the urge to touch him. The younger lay down, closing his eyes, folding his hands behind his head. His arm muscles positively bulged and Minho had sudden visions of them manhandling him.
“Uh, I’ll leave you to it,” Jason said awkwardly, and Minho swivelled to look at him guiltily. He had forgotten the other man was even there.
“Nice to meet you mate, have a good one!” Jisung called casually to his retreating back. Minho turned to find him sitting up and smirking, a satisfied look on his face.
Minho flushed. Was he so obvious that even a complete stranger could see how totally whipped he was for Jisung?
“He seemed nice,” Jisung said lightly. “Pity he had to rush off so soon.”
Minho gaped at him. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t seriously be lusting after that guy in front of him.
Jisung saw the look on his face and chuckled, running his thumb over Minho’s cheek. “I was kind of enjoying getting a little taste of what I’ll have to deal with when you’re my boyfriend. Think how many other guys I’ll have to scare away.”
Minho malfunctioned. Boyfriend? Boyfriend. Jisung wanted to be his boyfriend. He had envisioned them dating for a while before dropping any labels. But the thought of getting to jump straight into it, to be able to call Jisung exclusively his…
He felt like rolling around giggling, kicking his legs in the air.
“Someone’s very confident,” he said instead, doing his best to seem composed as he cocked an eyebrow.
“What, you don’t want to be my boyfriend?” Jisung asked, and it was light, casual, but Minho saw the flash of insecurity in his eyes. He recognised it well.
Minho reached out a hand, grabbing Jisung’s own. “I do, I really do,” he said sincerely. “I dream about it.”
Jisung smiled shyly, looking into his eyes, and suddenly he was close. So close. “God I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he murmured, and his gaze dropped to Minho’s lips.
“Do it,” Minho breathed.
And Jisung did.
Minho swooned at finally having those lips against him again. For the umpteenth time he marvelled at the reaction his body had to them, these beautiful lips that belonged to a more beautiful man. The kiss was like effervescence, tiny little bubbles of happiness popping in Minho’s heart with every soft drag against him.
Minho adjusted them to lie down, positioning himself over Jisung, propping himself up on an elbow as the kiss deepened, Jisung’s arms wrapping around him. He got entirely lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being close to Jisung in a way he had been longing to for so long.
Even when they parted, they stayed close, unwilling to leave the feeling of connection.
“I think we should tell Chan hyung, I can’t wait any longer,” Jisung said softly, gazing into him with eyes swimming with affection. Minho nodded.
“Yeah, I think you should tell Chan hyung,” a familiar voice echoed near them.
Minho’s head snapped over to look at Chan, standing there, eyes wide and arms crossed. Behind him was the whole rest of the group.
“Shit,” said Jisung.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Minho stammered, in some kind of movie like reflex as he scrambled to sit up.
“It looks like you two like each other,” Chan said, still a little taken aback.
“Oh,” Minho said. “Well then… yeah.”
Minho cast his eyes over the group. Hyunjin looked like he was about to start jumping up and down squealing. Felix also looked delighted. Jeongin and Seungmin just looked surprised. Changbin looked… a little hurt. Shit. And Chan… his expression was unreadable.
He raised his eyebrows at them. “So, what are you telling me?”
Minho glanced at Jisung, who nodded.
“You better all sit down and we’ll explain.”
“You remember when I told you I had a one night stand?” Minho asked when everyone had taken up spots on the sand.
“With the hottest guy on earth?” Changbin questioned.
Jisung giggled. Minho rolled his eyes but nodded.
“And when I stayed out all night with some arsehole?” Jisung added.
“Holy shit,” Chan breathed. “No fucking way.”
“Wait - are you saying- Jisung was the hottest guy on earth? And Minho was the arsehole?” Changbin’s eyes were saucers.
Jisung nodded.
“Hang on what?” Minho turned to him, indignant. “I was the arsehole? Why was I an arsehole?”
Jisung rolled his eyes. “You made me think you liked me then assumed I was a fuck boy and didn’t even ask for my number! We’ve been through this.”
“I didn’t realise-”
Chan cleared his throat. “Please continue with the explanation. How did this happen?”
“Well, exactly like I said. Jisung was playing in the band, and we hooked up at the bar, then back at mine. I had no idea he was your brother until he stepped into your lounge room.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Chan said quietly, the tiniest bit of hurt creeping in. Minho was reminded of his comments to Jisung about his sexuality.
“At first I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to do, so I just pretended not to know him,” Minho explained. “Then I saw how weird your relationship was, and how you hated that Changbin was interested so I kept my mouth shut. It was just a once off anyway. No one needed to know, we could forget about it.”
“Except they’re totally smitten with one another,” Hyunjin practically squealed.
“Except that we had to see each other all the time, and Jisung is… pretty unforgettable.” Minho smiled at Jisung, reaching out for his hand. “I just kept falling deeper and deeper for him despite trying not to.”
Hyunjin let out an ecstatic noise and bounced on his heels.
“And I really liked Minho, even though I was hurt when I thought he rejected me,” Jisung said.
Minho squeezed his hand. “At the party we… hooked up again, and then we had a big fight after, because I thought Jisung was playing with me and Jisung was mad that I thought that.”
Jisung cut in. “And later that night I called Minho drunk and he rescued me. We talked, about all the misunderstandings with us and Chan hyung, and admitted our feelings.”
“But we decided to not act on them until we’d had time to process and heal, and time to talk to you.”
“And we really didn’t do anything except one kiss in the toilets at the gig, and this just now,” Jisung added.
“But we want to be together, and we’re hoping you can all support us.” Minho gazed around at them all, before looking back at Chan.
There was a chorus of happy noises and exclamations from most of the group. Only Chan and Changbin sat silent.
“I really wish you’d just been honest from the start,” Chan said, looking disappointed.
“I’m sorry,” they both said in unison, then grinned at each other.
“No more secrets hyung,” Jisung said sincerely, smiling softly at his brother.
And Chan chuckled. “Wow, so you guys met by chance all those years ago outside my dorm, then at a random bar, then again at my house… the universe really kept throwing you two together until it stuck.” He looked impressed.
“Don’t forget the time at the restaurant when Jisung was playing there while we ate,” Hyunjin chimed in.
“Well, can’t argue with the universe, can we?” Changbin said, putting an arm over Chan’s shoulder.
“No, I guess we can’t.”
Did Minho mention how much he loved the universe?
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
The sun dipped towards the horizon, filling the sky with splashes of red, orange and pink that blended together to form a breathtaking finale to an almost perfect day.
They sat along the beach, watching every colourscape merge into one that was more beautiful than the last. Jisung’s eyes shone with wonder as he gazed at them, and he was so beautiful that Minho couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Wordlessly, he stood up, holding a hand down to Jisung, who looked at it curiously before reaching out to take it.
No one commented as they moved away from the group, walking hand in hand along the sand. When they had arrived at a quieter section of the beach Minho pulled Jisung with him into the water. It was still warm after absorbing the scorching sun for most of the day.
Minho stopped when they were about waist deep, and thankfully the waves had calmed. He turned to Jisung, bracing himself, heart beating wildly. This was it. What he had wanted for so long. He prepared the words in his mind, and was about to voice them when Jisung finally spoke.
“I don’t think this is a good idea hyung.”
Minho froze. What? Jisung didn’t actually want this after all?
“I mean the sand would cause too much friction and we don’t have any lube. Also, there’s like families around and stuff, what if they saw us?”
Minho’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “I- you- I-” he stuttered, unable to form a sentence.
Trust Jisung to ruin his romantic moment.
“I didn’t pull you away to have sex,” he said after finally composing himself. “I pulled you away so that I could talk to you in private.”
“Oh.” Jisung looked at him, eyes wide, both anticipating and apprehensive.
Minho took both of Jisung’s hands in his.
“Jisung, from the moment I saw you on that stage I was drawn to you in a way I hadn’t experienced before. And you were so hot and sexy that I couldn’t believe you would want to spend the night with me. You were so kind and funny and we clicked so well that I felt it was too good to be true. Too good for me. And sometimes it’s been painful, and we’ve hurt each other, but I know now that what I thought isn’t true.” He paused, checking Jisung’s reaction. His eyes were shining with hope and affection.
“You’re not too good for me,” Minho continued. “You’re perfect for me. We’re perfect for each other.”
Jisung was smiling now, wide and heart shaped and Minho’s heart thumped in his chest.
“I like you so much Jisung. You’re so talented and caring and funny and smart. I love how one minute you can be a teasing menace, and the next a shy, flustered baby. I love your vibrancy, your joy, but I also love just sitting with you quietly. You’re just… everything I could ever want and more.”
“So.. Han Jisung, will you take a leap, skip a few steps and be my boyfriend?”
Silence.
More silence.
Why was there so much silence?
Then Jisung was stepping closer, reaching forwards. Cupping Minho’s neck. Pressing his lips against his, salty but soft. Minho melted into the touch, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s waist, pressing their bodies together fully. The kiss was gentle, tender, but somehow conveyed so much emotion. Minho poured his feelings into each drag of his lips, each swipe of his tongue. Affection, attraction, longing, receiving.
Jisung pulled away after a while, keeping his face close.
“Minho hyung,” he said, still a little breathless. “Since the moment I saw you I had to have you, and when I did I couldn’t deal with not having you again and again. Not just sex either. If I had just wanted sex I wouldn’t have been so hurt by everything, wouldn’t have lashed out so much, tried so hard to get over you. I wanted you, to be with you, talk to you, play around with you, share myself with you. I still want that, so much.” He paused to smile that amazing heart shaped smile that Minho wanted to engrave in his mind forever.
“I would love to be your boyfriend, it would make me so happy.”
And Minho reached forward to kiss him again, falling deeper into each other as the waves crashed gently around them and the glorious sky faded to black.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
There had been so much teasing and discourse about Minho and Jisung going off together, about the others searching for them to go home and finding them still in the water, Jisung’s legs wrapped around Minho and still kissing passionately, that Minho didn’t mind so much when Jisung elected to sleep in his own room with his band members.
Well, he didn’t at first. Now, he was lying awake, on the mattress on Chan’s floor, wishing he had Jisung in his arms. His boyfriend, he corrected himself with a silly flip of his heart. Wishing he had his boyfriend in his arms.
Sighing, he pulled out his phone, intending to watch the videos he’d taken of Jisung at the gig, but was surprised to see a message had come through a few minutes ago.
Jisung
hyung
sneak out and meet me by the pool?
Minho smiled, glancing over at a snoring Chan wrapped around Changbin on the bed, and at Hyunjin lying next to him.
Minho
heading there now <3
He carefully rolled off the mattress, trying not to move the springs too much, and slipped through the door as quietly as he could. Jisung was already sitting by the pool when he got down there, gazing up at the stars.
He grinned wide when Minho came into sight. “Hi boyfriend,” he called softly.
Minho thought his smile might cause his cheeks to split open. “Hi,” he said, coming to a stop in front of him.
Jisung reached out a hand and held Minho's gently. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said softly, gazing into Minho. Minho heard the unsaid ‘because I was thinking about you.’
“Me neither,” he agreed. “My heart was too full.”
Jisung stepped closer. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.
Minho answered by stepping forwards and leaning in.
When their lips met they were hesitant, like a lamb just learning to walk. They soon found their rhythm though, and Minho sighed into the bliss that was being so close to his boyfriend.
The kiss was slow, sensual, and Jisung pulled away after a while.
“Wana, go for a swim?” he asked, still holding Minho’s hand.
Minho glanced at the gleaming blue water. “I don’t have my swimsuit,” he said, a little confused at how eager Jisung seemed to go back in the water when they had spent so long immersed today already.
jisung just looked pointedly at him, and Minho finally understood.
“Oh,” he breathed, blush starting to creep up his cheeks.
Jisung stepped back and pulled off his shirt, gracing Minho’s eyes with his ridiculous body yet again. Then he slipped off his shorts and suddenly he was naked.
Minho lost all ability to function.
He took in the body before him, the one he had been drooling over for the last 3 months, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t staring. But now, he was allowed to stare, and he did, looking shamelessly at the man he wanted so much, presented for his eyes only.
Jisung seemed to eventually feel a little self conscious, and stepped closer, reaching for Minho’s shirt.
“Can I?” he asked, and Minho could only nod.
He lifted the shirt over Minho’s head, before running his hands down his chest.
That delicious, familiar, calloused drag against his skin was driving Minho insane. Jisung’s hands reached his waistband, and he slowly tugged Minho’s shorts and underwear down his legs. Minho kicked them off and tried not to squirm as Jisung stepped back to look at him.
The hungry look on Jisung’s face was all that held him in place, all that stopped him from running at being so exposed. Jisung looked like he wanted to devour him entirely.
It grew a little too much though, and Minho suggested they hop in the water.
As soon as they found their footing after jumping in, Jisung’s body was pressing against him, hands running over his skin like it was the only chance he would ever get. Minho grew hard within seconds, the thought that he might finally get what he had been craving for months making him lose all inhibition.
Minho tilted his head forward, searching once again for Jisung’s lips, and groaning in relief when they finally connected.
Minho was sure that if his lips hadn’t bruised from all the kissing earlier they would now. That was something he hadn’t experienced before - he never really kissed for long if he could help it. But with Jisung he couldn’t seem to stop, even if it made his lips swollen and raw. It was like their mouths were meant to fit together, and just wanted to taste him constantly.
He rubbed their chests together as they kissed, and Minho was a whiny mess, sensitive skin and nipples making him writhe at the attention.
Jisung bit down on his lower lip and Minho let out a gasp, pulling Jisung tighter against him, feeling his hard crotch rubbing against his own. It set off firecrackers all over his skin, sizzling as the want consumed him. If Jisung didn’t fuck him or let Minho fuck him right now he might just explode.
“Want you, please,” he moaned, not caring how desperate he sounded. Jisung groaned, grinding into his straining cock. Minho whimpered.
“What do you want baby?” Jisung asked, gentle. “You want me to hop on your cock or you want me to fill you up?”
“Yes,” Minho breathed.
Jisung chuckled. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Minho couldn’t decide. With two options so perfect, how was it possible to?
Jisung ground against him again, and Minho just wanted to be as close as possible to him. And the sudden urge to have Jisung surrounding him, to be inside him… it was too big to ignore.
“Can I fuck you?” he asked, needing the answer to be a resounding yes for his own sanity.
Luckily, Jisung was grinning at him, “thought you'd never ask,” he said playfully, then reached for something sitting by the pool edge.
Silicon based lube.
Minho’s mind shorted out. There was lube by the pool. This was pre-planned. Jisung had come here with exactly this in mind. Minho got impossibly harder.
Jisung wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist, letting Minho hold him up in the water. Minho reached around, squeezing his arse, kneading it, pull it open… and holy mother fucking shit. Jisung was wearing a plug.
Minho’s mind shorted out again. Jisung had a plug in. Jisung had snuck away to stretch himself before he invited Minho here, probably thinking about this moment as he did.
Jisung was going to be the death of him.
Jisung’s kisses brought Minho back to life, and he glanced around the pool side. Shit, Jisung seemed to have forgotten one thing.
“Ah, I didn’t bring any condoms,” Jisung said sheepishly as he saw Minho’s disappointment. “I, um, heard you telling Chan that you got tested and were negative, so I decided to as well. I was thinking maybe we could… go without?”
Minho’s brain stuttered dangerously. “I’d love that baby,” he said, reaching back to the plug again. He pulled it out slowly, before releasing it to be sucked back in. Jisung shuddered against him, moaning.
Minho couldn’t help repeating the action a few times, just to hear more of those glorious noises. But eventually he grew impatient, the urge to be inside taking over. He gave one last tug, then pulled the little heart tipped plug out. Jisung groaned, and Minho was quick to squeeze some lube on his fingers before reaching behind to fill up the hole.
The sounds Jisung let out as he was playing down there went straight to Minho’s dick, and he could feel his precum leaking into the water around them. Jisung grabbed the lube from Minho’s other hand, squeezing some onto his hand before bringing it to Minho’s dick.
A noise escaped from deep in Minho’s chest at the contact, and he shuddered as the pleasure wracked through him. Jisung attached their lips, and they swallowed each other’s sounds as they both continued to tease.
Then, Jisung was hoisting himself up further, nudging Minho’s hands away and positioning Minho against his hole. He moved his body down to sit on Minho’s cock, the water making his movements slower, dragging out the mind blowing feeling of finally being in Jisung again, of feeling him completely, no barriers between them.
When he bottomed out they clung together, gazing into each other for what could have been seconds or minutes or centuries, before Jisung started to move, lifting himself off, then back down on Minho’s cock. Minho helped him, creating a frantic pace, both desperate to feel as much as possible of the other. The water splashed around them and the noise, the glowing blue light and cool feel on Minho’s skin made the experience almost surreal.
Minho was in heaven, in a pure state of bliss, his mind and body floating on air. He tried to take in every drag of Jisung against him, commit every moan, every whimper to memory. It was too amazing to forget. He lost all semblance of thought, only the feeling of pleasure echoing in his brain. He dug his fingers hard into Jisung’s thighs as he lifted him, his body’s desperate urge to anchor itself.
The pressure built quickly, and Minho was teetering on the edge much sooner than he would have liked. But the pleasure was just too good, the feelings for Jisung were just too strong, that before long Minho was crying out a warning and exploding into Jisung. The orgasm hit him like a truck, causing his whole body to shake with the pleasure, crying out Jisung’s name to the stars. He panted, sweaty and jittery as he forced his body to keep going, to fight the oversensitivity kicking in, to make his boyfriend lose control. He reached down to pump Jisung’s dick between them and he came a few thrusts later, straight into the water, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
“Fuck, hyung, that was…” Jisung panted after he came down.
“Yeah, it was,” Minho agreed, moving them to the edge and propping himself against it. He helped Jisung lift off but kept him in his arms, leaning in for a soft kiss.
“God, I can’t wait to do that again,” Jisung murmured. “I can’t wait to be with you Minho hyung,”
Minho chuckled, “You are with me.”
“Yeah, but I want to be with you more.”
Minho leaned in again, pecking his lips, before adding, “remember you said that when you’re annoyed at me for spamming you 600 messages a day.”
Jisung laughed, clear and lovely. “Only 600? I’m offended,” he said with a pout.
“Okay, okay, I’ll send a thousand,” Minho giggled, leaning in to kiss him again.
“That’s more like it,” Jisung grinned.
♫ ♪♫ ♪♫
3 months later
Minho’s phone vibrated against his leg.
Jisung
you’re so fucking sexy hyung
i love you
Minho glanced down at his boyfriend, cuddled against his chest. How had he even managed to send the messages? He couldn’t see his phone anywhere.
Minho
you too baby <3
i love you more
Jisung tilted his head back to smile at Minho. “Impossible,” he whispered.
Minho took the opportunity to plant a soft kiss on his lips.
A gagging noise sounded from nearby, and Minho turned to see Seungmin looking at them, disgusted. The noise brought the others’ attention as well, and soon six pairs of eyes were on them.
Changbin faked an exasperated sigh. “What are they doing now?”
“Just being disgustingly in love as usual,” Seungmin groaned.
Chan chuckled as he turned back to the movie. Minho ran his hands over Jisung’s belly and kissed the top of his head.
Jisung sighed dramatically. “When will their jealous obsession with us ever end?” he wailed to the heavens.
Minho chuckled, “never, I’m afraid. They’re all too pathetic and lonely.”
Suddenly a huge muscular man was barreling towards them. Minho quickly dove on top of Jisung, bracing himself on the floor over him, shielding him from the weight as laughing bodies piled on top. They ended in a mess of tangled limbs, breathless from laughing.
As they untangled themselves, and the weight on his back lifted, Minho looked down at Jisung, smiling bright as sunshine beneath him. He kissed him softly, ignoring the groans around them.
And everything just felt so right. He felt like he belonged here, with these people that made his life complete.
Minho sent a silent thanks to the universe. Maybe it didn’t hate him so much after all.