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Jisung is laying on the couch, scrolling through Netflix and searching for something interesting to watch, when his phone lights up.
Someone is calling him, but the number isn’t saved. He shrugs and picks up, clueless. It’d be rude to just not answer.
“Hello, who is this?” he asks, bored, still looking at the TV screen.
For a moment, he doesn’t hear anything.
He checks if the call is still on before trying again. “Who’s there? I don’t know this number.”
“Oh, sorry,” a voice finally answers him. It sounds a bit muffled and distant. It’s only a tad familiar, but his mind is completely blank when he tries to think of who it could be. “I must have dialled the wrong number again.”
“No worries,” Jisung smiles, finally picking a movie. Then he gets up to pick up some snacks, heading towards the kitchen. “Who were you trying to call? Maybe I can help if it’s a place I know.”
The guy on the other side on the phone chuckles, dark and mysterious. “Actually, just an old friend of mine. We were supposed to go to the movies tonight. Seems like he stood me up.”
Jisung takes a bag of chips and moves back to the couch, ready to enjoy his night alone. He finds it a bit odd for someone to not have a friend’s number saved on their phone, but who knows. Maybe the man just lost it or accidentally deleted it.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What you were going to watch?” he asks again, just to be polite.
“Terriefier 3, it just came out.”
“Yeah I’ve heard of it, but it sounded like crap to me.”
The guy seems very invested in this conversation, for some reason. He is probably away from the streets, now. Jisung can’t hear noise in the background anymore.
“Why? Ah, let me guess. You don’t like horror movies, do you? You think they’re for losers and nerds.”
Jisung laughs too and shakes his head, even if the stranger can’t see him.
“No, no. It’s quite the opposite, actually. I like them a lot,” he adds.
That seems to surprise the guy, who stays quiet for a while before speaking again. “Really? What is your favourite, then?”
Jisung frowns. “What’s my favourite what?”
When the guy speaks again, his voice is even deeper. “What’s your favourite scary movie?”
That question, for some reason, awakes something in Jisung. He feels a shiver running down his spine as uneasiness grows tight in his chest.
He quickly realizes that he spent the last five minutes having a conversation with a stranger, a man who could possibly be a psychopath, for all he knows. And now the creep wants to talk about his favourite movies – what is he doing?
“Uhm, sorry, I gotta go. My– uh– my friend is waiting for me and–”
But the guy interrupts him, laughing.
“I know you’re alone, doll. You don’t have to lie to me.”
Jisung’s heartbeat starts to increase.
How the fuck does he knows that?
Without thinking twice, he hangs up the call, staring at the screen. But as soon as he tries to relax, the number appears on his phone again, startling him.
He answers, trying to sound sure of himself. “Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you are but–“
“Don’t you dare hanging up again, bitch. You heard me? Try that shit again and I’ll kill you.”
Jisung freezes, his mind goes white for a couple of seconds.
“How–“
“Oh, you want to know how would I kill you, doll? Don’t worry about it, you don’t need to know,” he chuckles again, eerie and downright terrifying. “Honestly, what difference would that even make? You seem so innocent, all alone at night…Who would protect you?”
His throat is completely dry when he tries to speak again.
This man, whoever he is, is obviously spying on him. How else would he know that he’s home alone?
His own body jolts in fear while he looks around, searching for anything that could make him understand how this is possible.
“Cat got your tongue, Jisung?” at that Jisung fucking stops breathing, widening his eyes.
“How do you know my name?” he whispers, trying to close the heavy curtains in the living room with one hand.
The guy laughs again, and Jisung hears his steps in the back. He’s moving.
“Oh, doll. Is that what troubles you? You are cute like this, you know? Helpless, scared. I could do whatever I want to you right now, and no one would know.”
His body trembles. “That’s not true. My– my boyfriend– he’s going to be back home anytime now.”
“Oh, really now?" the stranger seems surprised again. “Well, then we have to give him nice welcome, don’t you think?”
Jisung is so focused on the guy’s words that he barely notices a noise from the door. Only after that he hears footsteps in the hallway, so subtle he thinks he might be imagining all of it.
He looks that way with wide eyes, feet glued to the ground, unable to move.
Is it possible that he’s already inside? How did he do that? For how long has he been watching him?
“We have two options, here,” he’s speaking again, and his voice feels incredibly closer now. “Option one: I kill you right now, so when your boyfriend comes home, he finds you torn into pieces on the living room floor.”
He regains the ability to move again and starts slowly walking backwards, eyes still trained on the hall. He tries to ignore the words even if he hears his own stomach curling in fear and despair and something else he can’t understand.
“Or, you know. We could make this a bit more fun…” he adds, and his tone is different now. Still menacing, but somehow seductive.
Jisung tries to move again without letting a single noise out, holding his breath. He is almost in his bedroom, and once there he’ll lock the door and call for help.
But then, the guy talks again.
“Option two: as soon as I get my hands on you, I’ll fuck you so hard that you’ll forget about everything, even your man. So when he’ll get here and he’ll find you opening your legs for me, he will realize how much of a slut his boyfriend is.”
Jisung’s eyes fly open and lets out a shrill noise of surprise, shock and arousal.
Fuck, why that idea doesn’t sound repellent at all?
To be fucked by a total stranger in his own apartment. While waiting for his boyfriend to be home. A stranger who claimed to wanting to kill him a minute ago.
His wondering is abruptly interrupted when he realizes that his little noise must have reached the guy’s ears. Jisung knows he’s right when he hears a quiet laugh, followed by the bip sound.
He hung up.
Next thing he knows, two strong, gloved hands are one him.
One on his mouth, stopping from yelling even if he wanted to and the other on his throat, squeezing lightly.
“No screaming, got it?” the stranger whispers now, right behind him. Jisung just nods, breathless. For some reason, he didn’t even consider it. “At least for now – don’t worry, doll, I’ll make you scream later.”
Jisung mumbles against the leather of the glove, not even sure of what he was trying to say.
He should be frightened by now. A stranger just broke into his apartment, possibly armed and with clear intentions of hurting him.
But when he feels the guy’s cock against his ass, he whimpers, his state of awareness slipping away by the seconds. He doesn’t even seem hard, but Jisung can still feel him through their clothes.
He must be so big, shit–
The guy chuckles, slightly facing him, and Jisung finally realizes why his voice sounded so muffled even up close.
He’s wearing a fucking mask. Like the one from the killer in Scream movies. Fuck. Fuck.
That’s even weirder and definitely makes this guy a psycho, but for some reason Jisung starts sweating. He feels hot all over and, against his better judgement, he feels his own dick hardening in his shorts. Oh, shit.
The stranger turns him around, slamming him against the wall behind them, and he keeps him there with one hand still around his neck.
“Mhm. You’re even prettier up close,” the stranger says, chuckling again through the mask. “Yeah, it would be a waste not to have a little fun with you. I’m sure your boyfriend won’t mind, right? If he’s even real, that is. Maybe you were just saying that to make me think you weren’t here all alone.”
Jisung opens his mouth, trying to say something, but nothing comes out. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and his brain is slowly fogging up. He tries to move away, at least show some resistance. A resistance he’s supposed to put on, but he’s almost forgetting why.
But the stranger seems stronger than him and easily puts him back in his place.
“Oh, c’mon. Where were you going? I barely even started with you,” the man adds, and Jisung can almost hear his smile in his twisted, teasing voice. He’s enjoying this way too much. “We’ll have fun, I promise.”
When Jisung tries to move again, the other pushes him back into the wall to keep him still and presses his entire strong, muscular body against him. He’s about to say something else, but then he stops. To his horror, Jisung realizes he must have felt his fucking boner poking his leg.
“Oh, well…look what we have here,” he teases and Jisung never wanted to die so badly. If only he had the time to choose, he would’ve definitely went with the first option.
The guy moves one of his hands, moving closer and closer to Jisung’s groin, and he splutters.
“D-Don’t touch me,” he chokes out, weakly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but the man is unbothered by his reaction.
He squeezes the hand around Jisung’s neck, making his breath hitch, and moves closer to him.
“Now, now. No reason to be rude, doll. After all, it doesn’t seem like you’d hate it so much if I’d touch you,” he whispers directly into Jisung’s ear, and to prove his point he quickly takes off one of his gloves, and touches Jisung’s bare leg with his rough, warm hand.
Jisung jerks, and with him also his dick in his boxers, which are starting to feel a bit too tight by now.
“Just like I thought. You seem to be enjoying this,” he squeezes his throat a little harder, just for a few seconds, and Jisung moans, eyes half-lidden and one of his own hand reaches out to circle the guy’s wrist, but not to stop him. Just to feel him.
The man laughs when he realizes he’s right, and leans closer again. “Is that what you’re waiting for, mh? You want me to touch you, even if you have a boyfriend who might be here any second?”
Jisung gasps when he feels the stranger’s fingers pinching and twisting his nipple through the thin shirt he’s wearing.
“You really like it, don’t you?” he goes on, moving his hand lower. “You are seeking for attention, sweetheart? So bored and hungry for cock that you would even let a random guy have his way with you?”
The other moans again when his mind focus on the nickname. Sweetheart, the one Minho always uses.
For some fucked up reason, that turns him on even more.
“Please–,” he begs, not even sure of what he’s asking. But luckily enough his body seems to know the answer for him, because when the stranger’s hand finally cups his clothed dick, his back arches and he grinds into the touch. “Fuck, fuck, please–“
The man laughs briefly, still touching him through his shorts.
“You’re a such a little slut, shit,” he whispers and Jisung shivers yet again. “Don’t worry, doll. We won’t tell your boyfriend for now.”
When Jisung remembers his hands are still functioning, he tries to touch the man as well, but he’s quickly stopped by him. He lets go of his neck and clutches his wrists instead, blocking them together against the wall, over his head.
Instinctively, Jisung lets out a noise of disappointment before he realizes it. But the other catches on that very fast.
“Huh, what’s wrong? You wanted to touch me?” he asks, pretending not to know. Jisung doesn’t answer, but he’s quite sure his red cheeks will speak for him.
“Oh, you did. You're really desperate, hm? Basically begging to be fucked.” And with that he fucking rips the shorts open, leaving an alarmed Jisung in his stained boxers before he can even blink. Then he does the same for his underwear, though he keeps the torn fabric in his hands.
“Want me to keep touching you?” he asks, as if Jisung isn’t half naked and rock hard from just a few touches. He nods slowly, shame and desire building together in his stomach.
“You need to tell me, doll. Speak up. I wanna hear you beg like I know you can.”
Jisung blinks, eyes feeling heavy and glossy. Surrendering never felt quite this good. “Please– touch me, please, please–“
“Good,” he states, and uses the fabric in his hand to tie Jisung’s wrists together after removing his shirt, too. “Kneel down.”
Jisung’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t even think about it and quickly sits his knees on the cold floor.
He uses the little bit of awareness left in his brain to realize the current situation: he’s completely naked, on his knees for a man he doesn’t know, while the other is still fully covered and wearing a fucking ghostface mask–
The whole thing sounds ridiculous, but when the man unzips his sweatshirt and reveals his toned chest, he loses focus again. Then he unfastens his belt and starts pulling down his pants and boxers, all at once, revealing his huge, veiny member. The tip is red and wet, meaning that he’s just as horny as Jisung.
At that view, his mouth opens automatically and feels spit start to collect on his tongue.
The man chuckles while stroking himself slowly, clearly enjoying his reaction. “What is it, doll? Want this in your mouth?”
Jisung nods furiously, so hard and desperate that he doesn’t care how ridiculous he must look, begging like that for a random dude with a mask. “Please, yes, yes–“
“Mhm…” he pretends to think about it. “So you’re saying your man will be okay with coming home to you gagging on another man’s dick?”
The more he refers to Minho and to how all of this is wrong, the more Jisung gets in his headspace and feels needier and needier. He just wants to take, take and take until he can’t anymore. He wants this man to use him, and nothing more.
“I–I don’t care. I need it now,” he stutters, and he feels so dirty and good at the same time.
The man laughs again, stepping closer to him, one hand still around the base of his cock. “Well, if you say so– open up, doll.”
Jisung does, even though he knows how wrong it is. He straightens his back, puts his tied hands on his knees and opens his mouth, letting his tongue slightly hang out.
For the first time, the man shows a sign of pleasure too, groaning when he sees the position Jisung assumed. He grabs his hair with one hand, making him whimper, and with the other slaps his tip on the other’s tongue.
Then Jisung takes him in his mouth, closing his lips around him. He can’t help but moan. Fuck, he really is big. He wonders how it would feel if he fucked him–
The guy moans, too, deep and primal.
“Fuck, there you are,” he says, beginning to thrust his hips back and forth. “Such a good slut for me.”
Jisung moans again around him, feeling his own dick twitch from the pleasure. He stills his head completely, encouraging the man to fuck his throat. He seems to understand, because he increases his pace, his cock moving in and out of Jisung’s mouth, so deep he can barely breath. He loves it so much.
“You like this, don’t you?” the guy teases, but Jisung doesn’t give a fuck and nods, closing his eyes, because he really does. He could come like this if he wanted to.
He really is sick.
The man continues his frantic rhythm and Jisung feels himself growing more restless and desperate by the seconds. Without even fully realizing it, he starts grinding his hips against his own tied hands, searching for a release.
When the other notices, he snorts.
"Look at you– so eager and needy, you’re cute like this,” he says, groaning when Jisung starts to suck harder on his tip. He slowly pulls almost all the way out, stopping and looking down at him.
Jisung can’t see his face, but he can imagine his dark, fierce eyes as he realizes how strong his grip on him is. He is literally at his mercy, mentally and physically.
“You know, I’m not very sure of what to do next, so just for this one I’m letting you choose,” he begins, and Jisung can almost hear his own heartbeat in his chest. “I kinda want to come on your pretty face, doll. But I would also love to fuck you until you go stupid.”
He plays with the short strands of hair on Jisung’s nape and he shivers again. Fuck, why does that sound so appealing? Why this whole situation is turning him on so much? Why he submitted so quickly?
“So, what you’d choose?” the man asks, chuckling while moving away from his mouth to let him speak. Jisung hates how he suddenly feels empty. “Of course, I can still do both of those things if you wanted to…and by the way you look right now, I think you do want that.”
Jisung hears the smirk in his voice and trembles.
He sounds so sure of himself. But then again, how could he not be? He basically offered himself to him on a silver platter.
From the way he sounds, he must be thinking the exact same thing. He starts stroking himself, right in front of Jisung's face, and he feels spits pooling in his mouth again.
Fuck, why is he like this?
Without rethinking it, he moves his face closer to the man’s cock, taking the tip in his mouth. He starts sucking lightly, and the other hisses over him.
Jisung looks up at him through his lashes, trying to look as innocent as he can despite his mouth still moving on him. “Come on my face, please–” he whispers, embarrassed but also so, so horny. “Come on me and then fuck me ‘til I can’t take it anymore.”
The man seems pleased with his answer; he growls and pulls at his hair again, making him wail, and starts fucking his own hand right over Jisung’s face.
He can’t look away from the man.
His lean and toned body, those strong legs, the fucking mask, the angry red cock over him. He subconsciously licks his lips. He can’t wait to have him inside.
“Fuck, you look amazing like this,” the guy says and Jisung grins, blissed out, realizing he’s probably close. “So ready for me, like a perfect toy for me to use– want me to use you, sweetheart?”
Jisung whimpers, nodding as much as he can with his head stuck in that position.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he urges, starting to grind his hips again just to show how desperate he is. “Please, please, I need it–”
The man slaps his face once, briefly, and Jisung almost comes on the spot. It burns even though it wasn’t that harsh. His skin stings where he was hit, and his eyes flutter shut when he imagines the red, fresh imprint on his cheek. He needs more.
“Again,” he begs, his voice dripping in lust. He barely recognizes it.
“Again, doll?” the man asks, sarcastic, and Jisung nods again, wide eyes and ragged breath. “Are you sure? What will your man think when he’ll see you with my hand printed on your pretty face, hm?”
Jisung’s body splutters, and the guy hits him again before he can even try to answer. A second later he’s coming untouched, brows furrowed and his mouth hanging open, moaning over and over again.
What the fuck was that?
He doesn’t even have the time to recover from his high that the guy comes too, right on his face. He moans, letting out a breathy laugh. “Hah, shit…so dumb and pretty, the perfect whore.”
His load continues to land on every inch of Jisung face, but he just closes his eyes and sticks out his tongue, taking it.
He opens his eyes again when he feels the man pull him by his arm to making him stand up, and one second later he finds himself pressed against the wall, his face touching the cold surface.
The guy is quickly all over him again, pressing their bodies together.
“So, is that what you like?” he asks, perfectly collected like he wasn’t just nutting two seconds ago. “Every time I mention your boyfriend finding you with me, you don’t sound worried or ashamed at all. Is there any chance that this is exactly what you want?”
He presses one of his warm hand against Jisung’s back, to push him closer against the wall. Not that he would move away, anyway. He brings the other hand close to Jisung’s face. He collects the liquid on his face before he unceremoniously brings his fingers near his mouth.
“Spit,” he orders, sternly, and Jisung does it without any question, his dick coming back to life at the implication of what’s about to happen.
The man decides it’s not enough, so he gestures for him to open his mouth and suck on his fingers. Jisung obeys right away, incapable of holding back a low moan while doing so. That makes the stranger laugh.
“So you really are that needy, huh? Guess this is my lucky day, then,” he murmurs, gently thrusting two fingers in and out of his mouth, watching the spit drip from his lip. “So hungry for everything I give you. Really the perfect slut. I’m sure your man would love to see you like this.”
That makes him moan again, choking on his own spit. The man chuckles once more.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he pulls his fingers away, directing them to his most sensitive spot. When he feels something wet and warm against his hole, Jisung almost purrs. “Imagine his face when he’ll come home after a long day at work and he’ll find you crying out like a bitch in heat with just my fingers inside you.”
He begins entering him as he speaks, just the tip of his two fingers, and Jisung whines. He wants more, he never wanted something more in his life.
“Please–“
“Imagine how would he react when he sees a man in his own house, balls deep inside his cute little boyfriend–” he goes on, teasing his entrance without really prepping him. “Do you think he would get mad? Disappointed? Or maybe he’ll like that. Maybe he’ll get hard by watching you being fucked by someone else. He must know what a cockwhore you are by now, no?”
He spits directly on his hole and Jisung moans both from that and the words, clenching around nothing. The man completely removed his fingers, using them just to massage his entrance and spreading the spit. That’s when Jisung realizes it, and almost loses it again.
“Y-You’re not g-going to…?” he asks, turning his head a bit. But before he can move again, the man uses his clean hand to grab the back if his neck again, making him gasp.
He snorts, devious and cocky. “Why would I? You’re more than ready to take me.”
And with that he starts pressing himself against his hole, already perfectly hard again. Jisung is speechless again, mouth hanging open as he pushes inside, inch after inch.
He wasn’t wrong.
The man behind him is so fucking big. The stretch is amazing, and he is not even all the way in yet.
He whimpers while trying to adjust himself, but before he can the man starts fucking him hard and fast, making him scream abruptly. One of his hands is still around Jisung's neck, squeezing lightly and making him see stars, while the other is holding him by the hip, the grip so tight Jisung is almost sure it will bruise.
He can’t really focus on anything else beside the way this man is fucking him, hard and deep and perfectly nailing his sensitive spot with every thrust. He moans and moans and moans, focusing only on the feeling of having him inside. The consequences of it will come later.
But, of course, the man can’t have that.
“Tell me, doll–" he curses, hips faltering for a second before moving even harder than before. Jisung whimpers and clenches around him. “Is this how you like to be fucked? Is this how your boyfriend fucks you?”
For some twisted reason, every mentioning of Minho makes him even hotter. Even if it’s not his cock he’s grinding onto right now.
“No– uh– fuck, fuck–“
“No? He doesn’t fuck you this good?” the other says, interrupting him, still fucking him. “So that’s why you took me so fast, mh? That’s why you didn’t put up any resistance– you needed someone to fuck you the way you like, the way you deserve.”
“No, no, no–"
“No?”
Jisung shakes his head, beginning to feel lighter by the seconds. “No! No– ah, shit– he is good to me, so good–“
“And yet here you are, taking my cock like you were made for it,” he grunts, moving his hand from his hip to his stomach, pressing where his tip touches inside him. Jisung almost screams at that, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah, like that. You weren’t even that tight, took me so well…did you open yourself up earlier, or are you always this loose?”
He sobs, shaking his head again. “No, no…I was– we–“
“Oh, you let him fuck you this morning,” the other realizes, laughing almost hysterically. “So you took two cocks in one day. You really are a whore, after all. A very greedy one.”
Jisung can’t take it anymore. He feels his guts tightening and his whole body burning up. “Please, please‐“
“What is it? Is my cock not enough for you, either? Want another one?” he goes on, teasing, and Jisung’s mind goes blank. “Wanna be stuffed until you’re ruined?”
“No, fuck, fuck– I want–“ he sobs again, interrupting himself. It’s hard to speak, words losing meaning before they can finish to roll off his tongue. He feels like he’s about to combust.
Everything is so wrong: the hands touching him, the body against his own, the words he’s been listening to…But then again, if it’s all wrong, how come he feels so fucking good?
“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me,” the man asks again, condescending, almost sweet. For some reason, Jisung likes it even more than his harsh tone.
“Need– I need to–"
The man hums, wrapping a hand around him, making him flinch. “You need to come?”
“Yes, yes, please– ‘m so fucking close,” he says, breathless, feeling his legs begin to shake.
“Then be a good doll and come for me,” the man whispers, gently, and that’s all it takes for Jisung to scream again, clenching hard on him and painting his hand white.
His legs give up for a second and he thinks he’s about to fall, but the hands around him keep him still and safe.
The man groans behind him, still holding his neck. “You sound so good when you come. Might take you with me forever– make you my personal whore. What you think?”
Jisung still feels shaky and out of breath, but he gasps a laugh at that. Fucked out, head still in the clouds, he keeps grinding back despite the overstimulation. “Mhm, yeah. Want that– want to you to use me until I break–”
The man full-on moans, squeezing his neck harder and grabbing his ass. “Fuck–"
That seems to be his final straw, because a couple of seconds later Jisung feels him tensing, realising inside him with a low groan.
Jisung slumps forward against the wall, tired and breathless. The strong arms are still around him, supporting him like a life line.
“So,” he begins, taking off his mask and declaring their little roleplay completely over, “how was it?”
The younger laughs, shaking his head. He still can’t believe Minho went along with this stupid thing.
“Shouldn’t I ask you that? I’m the one who talked you into it, and you’re the boyfriend who got hypothetically cheated on.”
Minho chuckles, too, carefully exiting his body with a little hiss, and then he gently turns him around so they’re face to face.
“That was really hot, y’know? Better than I expected,” he eventually says, grinning, gently pushing Jisung’s bangs away from his sweaty forehead. He’s so cute and sweet. If Jisung wasn’t used to it by now, he would never believe he was the same man from five minutes ago, choking him and fucking him against a wall.
Jisung pouts, just to tease him. “You don’t have any faith in me.”
His boyfriend rolls his eyes at him, but his smile doesn’t fade. “You’re insane, and so are your ideas. But I’ll always be here with you to make them work.”
The idea in question, this time, tormented Jisung’s brain for a whole week before he decided to go ahead and talk to Minho about it.
It all started when he came across a particular video on tiktok: a cute girl was laying against a wall; she was facing away, ignoring the camera and acting nonchalant. Then a man came from behind the door, silently, and when he was close enough he gently grabbed her by the neck, forcing her to look at him. As expected by the tags on the bottom, he was wearing a mask – the ghostface one – and black sweatpants. Nothing on his torso.
For some confusing, unexpected reason Jisung found everything unbearably sexy. But the last caption was what made him seriously lose his mind.
If you have a mask kink, go ahead and try this with you partner. I'm sure they will love it, too. ;)
Jisung didn’t even realize he had a mask kink, but when he imagined recreating it with his own boyfriend, he whined out loud.
He spent days obsessing about that video – and the hundreds more he’d seen after it, because of fucking course it went viral and became a trend – until Minho finally came to him, asking what was wrong and why he seemed so distracted all the time.
At first, if he has to be honest, Jisung avoided the conversation on purpose. He was afraid Minho would find it too much, too weird even for a freak like Jisung.
How was he even supposed to ask for it, anyway? 'Hey, wanna fuck me while wearing a mask?’
The years spent together taught him that Minho is respectful, and caring, and so devoted to what they have that sometimes Jisung is still a bit overwhelmed by it. Still, he had this irrational fear that he might be grossed out, that he might leave Jisung, or never want to touch him again.
But when he finally mentioned it Minho reassured him, like the angel he is, and they sat down to talk about it. Discussing the details, trying to make it as close as possible to the fantasy that was plaguing Jisung’s mind.
“They might be my ideas, but in the end you love them as much as me,” Jisung teases him, and Minho just rolls his eyes again. “And just so you know, I wouldn’t cheat on you with anyone. Besides your sexy alter egos when we do shit like this.”
Minho burst into a laugh at that, and Jisung hits him playfully.
“You know what I mean! You’re the only one for me.”
The older looks at him fondly, leans into him and kisses him. Jisung automatically sighs against his lips. The whole playact was amazing, but he missed Minho’s lips on his.
His boyfriend seems to think the same as he moves more urgently and passionately against him. “I wasn’t too harsh on you, right? Or too soft.”
“No,” he pants against his mouth. “It was perfect. You were.”
“I’m glad,” he says, a bit shy. “I was worried it got a bit underwhelming towards the end. I just…I can’t help it, you know. No matter how I treat you or how I call you during sex, you’re still the man I love. I don’t want you to get hurt, not for real at least.”
“As I said, it was perfect. Just how I pictured it, if not better. And you didn’t ruin it, I liked it even more that way,” he kisses his cheek, leaving a sweet peck on his skin.
His boyfriend grins, tilting his head to the side. “I'm glad. Now, how about we go shower? You’re clearly freezing and we’re dirty and sweaty. I love you to death, but this is beginning to be a bit gross. You’re dripping all over the floor.”
“And whose fault is that?” he remarks playfully, sticking his tongue out, but in the end he follows him down the hall and then in their bathroom.
They clean themselves and end up making love again against the shower wall. Because Jisung is, in fact, greedy, but Minho might be just as much when it comes to him. It's way softer now, comforting; Jisung sighing in pleasure as Minho slides perfectly into him, as if they’re one, as if they belong together.
Minho rarely expresses his feelings out loud, but he makes sure Jisung knows anyway. His actions speak better than any words could, and his eyes are screaming when Jisung looks into them.
You’re the only one for me, too.
Jisung had some fair shares of lovers, through the years, and he’s always been pretty open about his sexual life. He never liked slow, gentle, vanilla sex before meeting Minho. It bored him – he always looked for fun, and nothing else. However, when they did meet, he realized how much he was missing out.
It's Minho who makes it special, though. He takes him apart, let Jisung melt into his careful, loving hands, and he's ready to build him up again as soon as they're done.
He might love pain, but Minho managed to make him love pleasure even more. Not just with his body, but with his soul.
Jisung gets on the bed as soon as he reaches their bedroom. His heated skin, still sensitive from the shower and Minho's hands, covers in goosebumps as soon as it meets the fresh sheets.
He closes his eyes, already half asleep, when Minho throws something in his face. A shirt and some briefs. "Get dressed. You'll be cold during the night and you'll whine to me about it as soon as you wake up."
Jisung puffs his cheeks, pretending to be offended. "I don't whine."
Minho comes to lie next to him. Kisses his cheek.
"That's all you ever do," then he smirks, 'cause he's the most evil, handsome asshole ever existed. "My whiny slut, hm?"
Jisung shivers, but he hits him on his chest. Minho laughs like it's the funniest thing ever. "Keep that shit for pillowtalk."
Minho proceeds to joke on how they're both, quite literally, lying on a bed right now, with their heads on pillows. Jisungs smacks him again, and they call it a night.
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