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Jisung almost unhinges the leg curl machine when he sees Him walking into the gym. 

He has never seen this dude before, but now that he has, he can’t stop staring at him. His long hair is windswept, fringe falling in his eyes. Jisung looks down and, fuck, his shoulders are delicious. And his fucking arms? God. His tank top allows Jisung to ogle the full sleeve of gorgeous jagged tattoos adorning his strong arms.

Jisung’s eyes track his walk to the reception. He sinks his teeth in his bottom lip when he watches him leaning on his arms against the counter and smiling. 

Jisung wants to kiss him, he wants to kiss him so bad. 

“Damn,” Seungmin’s voice cuts through his thoughts and Jisung jumps, heart in his throat. He hadn’t noticed Seungmin was next to him.

“I’m going to kill myself,” Jisung says.

“That’s fair,” Seungmin muses. “Sometimes people are so attractive it just makes you want to meet your demise via bench press strangulation.”

Jisung side eyes Seungmin. “I’m doing leg curls, though?”

“Same shit.” Seungmin sniffs. “You done here?”

“Here as in the gym or the curling machine?” Jisung asks.

“I’m hungry.” 

“We only got here,” Jisung says distractedly, gaze straying back to the guy and trailing after him as he makes his way to the mats. His thighs. HIS THIGHS! Jisung is going to have an aneurysm, he’s going to need CPR. Oh god, he’s going to stretch himself, isn’t he? [spontaneous combustion]

“I don’t even know why we’re here in the first place.”

Jisung looks back at Seungmin and makes a face.

Seungmin throws his head back and groans. “Fine.”

“Go drink some water, you can wait for me while I do two more sets.”

“You’re not gonna do shit,” Seungmin counters. “You just need an excuse to eyefuck Mister Sexy Legs over there.”

Jisung’s eyes go back to Him, trailing them over his body, down his impossibly toned legs. He lets out a strangled moan. “I wish I could fuck his legs.”

Seungmin lets out a long suffering sigh and trudges back to the treadmill. Leaving Jisung alone with his criminally inappropriate thoughts. Jisung sighs, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. He can’t stop staring. He knows it’s rude, but there’s something about this guy. Aside from his mouthwatering build. Something Jisung can’t quite put a finger on. He’s too hot to be human, basically. No amount of leg days can make legs look like that. It’s almost obscene how hot he is.

“You gonna keep hogging the curl, Han?” someone asks. 

Jisung almost falls off the machine. A booming laugh echoes through the fairly empty gym. It’s 3pm, no one comes around at this time. Jisung knows because he planned his schedule around it and everything, to avoid the commotion, avoid the eyes he knows aren’t watching, but still feel like they are.

“What the fuck, hyung,” he heaves, hand pressed to his storming chest.

“Stare some more and he’s going to spontaneously combust,” Changbin teases.

“I wasn–”

Changbin gives him a look.

“Okay, I was.” Jisung slumps in his seat. “Can you blame me, though?”

“Mm.” Changbin’s eyes travel over to where the guy is almost folded in half. It’s a miracle Jisung’s dick is behaving so well right now. “He has a nice build, can deadlift like a champ too.”

“You talk like a dad,” Jisung teases, then Changbin’s words register and he’s perking up. “Wait, you know him?”

“He’s a regular,” Changbin says, but something in his expression tells Jisung there’s more to it than that. “Met him outside the gym, though.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It’s a long story,” Changbin says, his tone doesn’t give any indication that he’s about to elaborate, so Jisung doesn’t push.

“Huh,” he says instead. “Can you introduce us?”

Changbin hesitates. 

Jisung pouts, widens his eyes. “Please?”

Changbin sighs. “How many sets do you have left?”

Jisung grins. “Two.”

“Finish them and I’ll make him spot you at the leg press,” Changbin says. “Actually, do three of ten for me.”

“Wh–”

Changbin raises a hand and Jisung’s mouth clicks shut. “Nope. No complaints, just do as I say, yeah?” Changbin says, eyes serious. “You’ve been slacking over some ass, three sets of ten and you can meet him.”

Jisung gives him a helpless look, eyebrows downturned and bottom lip jutted out.

“I’m going easy on you,” Changbin says, giving him a flat look.

Jisung rolls his eyes but does two consecutive reps in one breath.

“Nah ah,” Changbin chastises. “Isolate the movement.”

Jisung clicks his tongue and proceeds to do his sets properly, too focused on doing them right to sneak glances. By the time he’s done, his legs are sore as shit. The last two reps were hell, but he pulled through. He always does.

“Good,” Changbin says, patting Jisung’s shoulder roughly. “Hop off, let’s go.”

Jisung grins and slides out of his seat, almost falling on Changbin as he tries to stabilise himself on his feet, his legs feeling a bit like jello, just barely. Changbin holds him steady.

“Come on,” Changbin gestures for Jisung to follow him. Jisung does and they end up by the treadmills. 

Jisung’s gym crush is running on the treadmill in the middle, fast and steady. He seems to sense them once they’re close, because he turns around and starts running backwards. All in one fluid movement that makes saliva pool under Jisung’s tongue. He needs him carnally, horizontally, biblically, raw.

Jisung sees him smirk as he keeps running without breaking a fucking sweat.

He definitely isn’t human.

“Hey, Changbin,” he says, not sounding a least bit breathless. Fuck. His voice is so airy and pretty. Jisung is going to die. His eyes flick to Jisung and the crook of his lips turns catlike, his eyes curious, dark. “What do we have here?”

Jisung feels like a mouse. Prey. His fight or flight kicks in, but Changbin pins him in place with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Lee Minho,” Chagbin says. “This is Han Jisung, can you watch him while I tend to my other clients?”

“I’m not a child, fuckhead,” Jisung grumbles, shrugging Changbin’s hand off.

“Cute,” Minho says, reaching backwards. The treadmill slows, slows, slows. He starts walking until it halts. “Of course, Bin-ah.” He hops off the treadmill and flicks his fringe out of his eyes as he approaches them. 

Jisung didn’t notice it before but Minho pulled his hair into a ponytail, probably because he wants to end Jisung’s life. Jisung almost falls to his knees, he’s two seconds away from begging for cock.

Minho eyes him with amusement. Jisung has never been good at hiding his expressions, it’s probably written on his forehead how much he wants to be railed.

“Spot him on the leg press, yeah?”

Minho pouts.

“Yeah, I know it’s not your favourite,” Changbin says, patting Minho’s arm. “But. Bonding moment and shit. You need more friends, hyung.”

Minho gives Jisung a knowing look. “Friends,” he says, like it’s a secret between him and Jisung. Jisung feels so out of his depth he’s about to drown in a puddle of his own spit. 

Jisung smiles shyly at him. Minho smirks, inches closer to Jisung. “Okay, friend.” He wraps an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung almost whimpers. His brain short circuits. Minho is so warm. So sturdy, solid, so… fuck. “Let’s go.”

Minho wiggles his fingers at Changbin and steers Jisung towards the leg press machine.

“So,” Jisung starts. Clicks his mouth shut. He doesn’t look at Minho, too scared he might explode the moment he makes eye contact, paint the walls carmine.

Minho squeezes his arm around him. “Yeah?”

“Come here often?” Jisung blurts out because he’s so smart, isn’t he?

Minho lets out an airy laugh. His breath tickles Jisung’s cheek, something metallic but not unpleasant to it. “You need to up your flirting game, baby.”

“Wh—I’m not—“

Minho pokes his cheek.

“Okay, I’m not not flirting.”

“Mm, why don’t you look at me and give me your best line?” Minho nudges Jisung’s cheek, probably to make him turn his face to look at him.

“I don’t have lines?” Jisung’s tone comes out as a question. 

“You don’t?” Minho asks. “Makes sense.”

Jisung finally looks at him. Almost whimpers at the devastatingly gorgeous smile on Minho’s face. His eyes crinkle when he smiles. His nose scrunches a little. Jisung is about ten seconds from collapsing in on himself. “Makes sense?”

“Someone as pretty as you doesn’t really need lines to get what they want, do they?” If it was anyone else, Jisung would be cringing. But it’s Minho and somehow it works. Way too well. Jisung is weak, weak, weak, weak.

“Uh.” Jisung is definitely about to take a bite too big for his mouth right now. “Thanks?”

Minho chuckles, letting go of Jisung. “Weight?” he asks as he approaches the leg press machine, crouches next to it. His thighs bulge like this, Jisung feels like a bird that just nosedived into a closed window thinking it was open. Minho rests a hand over the weight plates secured at the bottom and tilts his head.

Jisung shakes his head. “Huh?”

“How much do you press?”

“I’m just starting, so,” Jisung says, rubbing his arm. “I’m not really a leg day guy.”

Minho looks at Jisung’s legs. Smirks. “I can tell. You have anime legs.”

Jisung shifts from foot to foot.

“Bambi legs,” Minho teases.

“Shut up,” Jisung bites back.

Minho barks out a laugh. “It’s okay, jagi. They’re very pretty.”

It feels like someone doused Jisung’s face in gasoline and threw a lighted zippo at it. Gah. He almost screams. 

Jisung usually has the upper hand in conversations, he isn’t the type to stumble, stutter, but Minho has this power over him. Power no one has ever been able to hold. Jisung always gets the last laugh, always with something cheeky to bite back with, but he’s… at a loss for words. Minho is so straightforward Jisung doesn’t know what to do with himself. He might bite his fist.

“You usually this quiet?”

“You scare me,” Jisung blurts out.

Minho bites his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “Yeah? Fifty kilos okay for you?”

“What the fuck,” Jisung says. His gums hurt from the whiplash, or maybe because he was clenching his teeth without noticing it. He noticed it now. He relaxes his jaw, flexes his fingers.

Minho bursts into laughter. “I’m playing, we’ll start you with twenty, yeah? Get comfortable on the chair, princess. I’ll get your weights.”

Jisung isn’t going to survive this.

His experience in the leg press under Minho’s supervision is rather… uneventful. Minho doesn’t tease, he just instructs Jisung to go slower when he gets ahead of himself softly. Jisung wants to listen to him speak all the time. He wonders if he can have his number and wheedle late night calls out of him, so he can fall asleep to the soft timbre of his voice.

“It’s a little light,” Jisung says after he finishes the first set.

“Why didn’t you say so? Slacking on me now, Jisung-ah?”

Jisung pouts.

“You’re cute.” Minho pokes his nose. “I’m adding ten more kilos to each side.”

“Obviously, you don’t want my legs to be uneven, do you?”

“Oh?” Minho grins. “Is there an actual personality under all that blushing? Exciting.”

Jisung squints. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

Minho just blinks at him. Slowly. Like a cat. His lips crook and Jisung is hit with the same urge to kiss him from earlier. When he first saw him.

“You just seem easy to rile up,” Minho comments airly. “Now.” He grabs a weight plate, slides it into place and does the same on the other side of the machine. “There.”

He goes back to his place next to Jisung. “Ready?” he reaches for the little lever. Jisung braces himself, shifts his feet and nods. Minho pulls the lever and Jisung holds the weight of the leg press with the strength of his quads, bending his knees and letting out a punched out breath as he starts the new set, closing his eyes as he focuses on the repetitive motions. 

“Good,” Minho says. “Contract your abdomen.”

Jisung clenches his abs and keeps pushing. He feels like he could be doing heavier weights but he’s already starting to break out a sweat. His legs are starting to strain. He’s a chicken. He has chicken legs.

“I have chicken legs,” Jisung says through clenched teeth as he finishes the set.

“What was that?” Minho asks, but Jisung can hear the amusement in this tone. Minho just wants him to repeat himself. Fucker.

“Fuck you,” Jisung breathes out as Minho pulls at the lever. Jisung brings his legs to his chest after replacing the footplate back in its place and groans dramatically. His hair is sticking to his heated face, he feels like a wet chicken now.

“Chirp up,” Minho says, then laughs at his own joke like an idiot. Jisung still wants to kiss him so bad his sternum aches.

“Okay,” Minho says. “You’re doing another set, yeah?”

“Hyung,” Jisung whines.

“You can do that for me, can’t you?” Minho asks, batting his eyelashes and grinning. “Ja~gi.”

Jisung groans and lets Minho subject him to another set.

Jisung is curled up in fetal position on the floor next to the leg press machine. Has been for a little while, whining about his chicken legs. Minho’s feet are in his line of vision. Good soles. Jisung might be a little delirious. 

“You’re so dramatic,” Minho presses the tip of his sneakers against Jisung’s cheek. Jisung shrieks and bats it away.

“Disgusting,” he grumbles, wiping his cheek. He rolls on his back and looks up at Minho.

“Done already?” 

“I have three more exercises to do,” Jisung says.

“Do you need my help?”

Jisung makes a noncommittal noise. “Are you really just a regular?” he asks in lieu of an answer.

“Pretty much,” Minho nods. He has cute little pouches next to his mouth. Jisung wants to bite them. 

“You act like Changbin,” Jisung says, sitting up and reaching for his water bottle. “An actual personal trainer, I mean.”

“I’ve been working out since I was seventeen,” Minho says. “You pick up some things, you know?”

“Seventeen?” Jisung whistles as brings the bottle to his mouth and takes a swig. “That’s dedication.”

“I’m running low on time,” Minho says. “Getting old.”

“You said that like you’re dying,” Jisung says, then his eyes widen when his words sink in. “You’re not, right? Dying?” 

Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Not for a long, looooong time.” Jisung raises an eyebrow at the elongated word. Minho grins down at him. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from sick. Top shape. Promise. Now, what next?” Minho offers his hand to him. 

Jisung knows a dismissal when he sees one. He wants to pry, of course he does, but he just met Minho, doesn’t know what button he’s gonna push if he presses. He takes Minho’s hand and lets him haul him up like he weighs nothing. He makes the executive decision to ignore how his dick twitches at that.

“Uh, what’s the name of that thing,” Jisung says, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he looks around the gym. He joins his hands, pulls them apart then joins them again as if to mimic the movement of the workout. “The thigh wrestling machine.”

“The abduction machine?”

“Abduction? Like alien abduction?”

Minho giggles. “I feel like you’re gonna start calling it that.” 

“Alien abduction machine?” Jisung grins, puffing out his chest. “Absolutely.”

Minho’s grin turns dangerous. The air feel thick all of a sudden. Jisung braces himself for it. Whatever Minho is about to say can’t be SFW, not with the way his eyes rake down Jisung’s body, back up again—dark, all consuming. Jisung suddenly can’t suck in a breath. He’s fighting for his life.

Minho inches closer until his chest is brushing Jisung’s arm. Jisung’s skin breaks into goosebumps. He has a bad feeling about this. 

Minho leans in. “Personally,” Minho whispers, bottom lip ghosting the shell of Jisung’s ear. His breath tickles. “I call it the slut machine.”

Yup. Jisung’s knees buckle and he’s back on the floor. On all fours. He can hear Minho snickering. Jisung kicks a leg back.

“Nice view,” Minho comments airily. “You presenting for me already?”

Jisung collapses on the floor and lets out a pathetic little sob. He decides to become one with the maple wood.

Minho laughs more openly. Jisung jumps when he feels hands on his hips. “Never knew someone who liked the floor this much.” he teases.

Minho slides his hands up, curls them around Jisung’s armpits, pulling a shriek out of Jisung as he hoists him up like he’s, who knows, a fucking pillow or a doll or whatever the fuck. Jisung isn’t fighting for his life anymore, he’s fighting off a boner. Save him. 

Minho presses him against his chest, folding his arms around his waist. “You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, bumping his head against the back of Jisung’s. Jisung fights the urge to throw his head back and moan when he feels a bulge against the back of his thigh. 

Minho brushes his lips over the slope of Jisung’s neck, sucks on the skin. One of his hands slides under Jisung’s shirt, snaking up and cupping his pec. Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s suddenly hyperaware of their surroundings, but his dick doesn’t seem to get the memo, twitching as it fattens up. He needs Minho to let go, but he isn’t strong enough to disentangle himself from him, both physically and psychologically. He’s trapped. Minho is a fucking demon.

“Hyung!” Jisung flails. Weak attempt, but he isn’t putting up much of a fight, really. “We’re in public!”

Jisung can feel Minho’s lips curling against his skin. “I like that you call me hyung when you don’t even know how old I am.” 

“You guys seem awfully cosy,” comes Seungmin’s voice. Dry, unamused, even though his words are teasing. Jisung shrieks, flailing. Minho laughs against his skin, squeezing him before letting go of him.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Jisung says, hand to his chest. Heart in his throat. “Fuck.”

Seungmin chuckles. “You done? I’m still hungry.”

“I, uh,” Jisung flicks his eyes at Minho. Minho arches an eyebrow, smirking. “Not yet,” he says, turning back to Seungmin.

Seungmin throws his head back and groans. “Why are you taking so long? I wanna go home.”

“You can go,” Minho says. “Not Jisung, though.”

Jisung’s head snaps in Minho’s direction so fast he gasps when his neck cracks. He whines as he rubs it, bowing forward—too distracted by the pain to question Minho on what the fuck he means.

“Excuse me?” Seungmin says, voice icy. Jisung looks at him. Seungmin is in attack stance, which is funny because Minho could snap him in half like a twig if he wanted to. Jisung stifles a snort. 

“I can take him home,” Minho says.

Seungmin squints. “Yours or ours?” 

“Puppy, down,” Jisung says.

Seungmin bares his teeth at Jisung.

Jisung giggles. “You’re so cute when you’re protective.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Can we go?”

Jisung looks at Minho.

Minho pouts at him.

“You’ll take me home?” Jisung asks. 

“Your guard dog doesn’t seem too happy about that,” Minho notes. “But it’s up to you, really. I want to get to know you better.”

“Barf,” Seungmin says. Jisung sticks his tongue out at him. Seungmin yawns. “You know what, you need a dick up your ass. I’ll be off.” He turns around and walks away, but not before yelling, “I’ll have Felix fuck me on your bed!” 

Which, fair. Jisung deserves that.

“So,” Minho says after a stretch of silence. 

Jisung turns to him and raises an eyebrow.

Minho smirks. “Slut machine?”

Jisung chokes. 

Minho cackles.

Minho spreads Jisung’s legs as far as the machine allows. Closes them. Hums when he notices Jisung doesn’t struggle. Ups the weight and squeezes Jisung’s thigh.

Jisung likes Minho’s hands on him. They’re warm. Sturdy. A little on the smaller side, but it works for him. Jisung doesn’t even feel like teasing him about them because he wants his fingers inside him.

“Heavy?” Minho asks.

Jisung spreads his legs as far as they go with a little difficulty. Closes them. “A bit.” 

“You’re flexible,” Minho comments as he ups the weights.

“Yoga,” Jisung says, letting his legs squish together.

Minho looks at him with an eyebrow raised, lips crooking. “Oh?”

Jisung tilts his head. Smiles sweetly. “Wasn’t expecting that?” he chuckles. “Yeah. I started going because of my back. My roommate Felix is a yoga instructor and he told me it could help. It did, which surprised me. It was hard as fuck at the beginning, but I ended up addicted.”

“That’s hot,” Minho says. 

Jisung preens. “I know.”

“Cheeky.” Minho squeezes Jisung’s thigh. “Three sets of twelve.”

“But, hyung,” Jisung whines.

“Be good for hyung, yeah?” Minho says, grabbing the inside of Jisung’s thigh and pulling at it. Jisung yips but spreads his legs. It’s heavy. “Good boy. Isolate the movement.” 

Jisung groans as he does another rep, falling forward a little with the effort of it. “Heavy,” he grits.

“You can do it, baby,” Minho says, squeezing Jisung’s thigh. 

“Fuck you,” Jisung says as he does another rep. He can feel sweat starting to form in his upper lip. He bares his teeth with effort, grunting every time he spreads his legs. 

Minho doesn’t let go of his thigh as Jisung does his set, gently guiding him as Jisung struggles. Not only because of the effort, he’s actually battling a boner right now. He tries not to focus too much on the point of contact, but it burns, almost distracting him but he clenches his teeth and does as Minho instructs.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

He slumps on the chair, legs squished. 

“You did so well, jagi,” Minho says, running his hand through Jisung’s sweat-slicked hair. 

Jisung whimpers. “No more, please.”

“Again.”

Jisung almost sobs. “No.”

“Not that,” Minho pulls at Jisung’s hair. Jisung bites back a moan. “Say that again.”

Jisung turns to him and asks, “Say what again?”

“Figure it out and I’ll let you off the hook,” Minho says with a cat-got-canary grin.

“No more, please?” Jisung says.

“Warmer,” Minho says.

Oh, he’s evil. 

Jisung widens his eyes and says through a pout, “Please, hyung. I can’t do this anymore. Please.”

“Again,” Minho repeats.

“Fuck, pleaseeeeee,” Jisung lets it drag, whining through it. “Please, hyung. I’ve been good.”

“Mm.” Minho combs his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Good boy.” 

Jisung lets out a relieved sigh and relaxes against the chair.

“Was it that hard?” Minho asks, offering a hand to him. 

Jisung takes it and gets off the machine on wobbly legs. “Yeah, it was— ACK,” he yelps as he trips on something and falls forward, huffing when his chest collides with Minho’s. Minho steadies him with his hands on his hips.

“You okay?” Minho asks with a laugh.

“Shit,” Jisung lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know what happened there. That was embarrassing.”

Minho slips his hand under the back of Jisung’s sweat soaked shirt, Jisung gasps when his cooler hand meets his bare skin. “It was cute,” he says, knocking his forehead against Jisung’s.

Jisung’s heart blips. “Uh,” he says. Smart.

Minho brushes their noses together, caressing Jisung’s skin in gentle circles. Jisung goes crosseyed and Minho laughs, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s nose before pulling back. “Wanna go home?”

Yes. But. He probably smells like shit. “I need a shower, though,” Jisung says.

“How long does your shower last?”

“Um, at the gym?” Jisung asks. “Around thirty minutes, because I don’t have the luxury of doing that at home without the water freezing my balls within ten minutes.”

“I can work with that,” Minho says.

“Huh?” Jisung blurts.

“Go take a shower, baby,” Minho says, scratching Jisung’s back. “I need to finish my workout. I’ll take twenty, so maybe I’ll join you in the shower for the last ten minutes?” he grins as he lets go of Jisung.

Jisung swallows hard. He lets out an embarrassing high-pitched noise that has Minho cackling. 

Jisung turns around and runs to the locker room without looking back. 

Jisung considers walking back into the gym when he walks into the locker room. Just to watch Minho work out, you know? But he decides against it when his dick twitches at the thought of Minho deadlifting. 

How much does he deadlift? Jisung is too scared to find out, he might get a nosebleed. Or a stroke. Or he might die. 

He shucks off his shorts and proceeds to do his pre-shower routine trying really hard not to think about the veins in Minho’s arms bulging when he deadlifts.

He watches the water trickle down his stomach. He’s starting to get a suggestion of abs. Huh. He breathes in, watches the ridges form on his stomach, breathes out and laughs when they disappear. Breathes in again. Does that three more times.

“Boo,” he hears someone say and screeches, falling on his ass on the wet tiles. His temples pulse with his heartbeat from the scare. He instantly recognises the evil laugh that ensues, which is kinda fucking insane because he just met Minho. 

Minho knocks on his door.

“Now you’re knocking,” Jisung grumbles, flipping his wet hair out of his eyes. His ass hurts.

“Sorry, jagi,” Minho says, not sounding sorry at all. “Did I scare you?”

“Nah,” Jisung says as he carefully gets back on his feet, using the walls to push himself up. “I don’t get scared easily.”

“Why did you scream, then?”

“I didn’t,” Jisung says.

Minho laughs. “Sure, can I get in?”

“I’m naked,” Jisung says.

“I sure hope you are,” Minho says. “Considering you’re showering and everything, doing that while clothed seems a bit counterproductive.”

“Haha,” Jisung says dryly. “I’m almost done, though.”

“I just need to rinse myself,” Minho bargains.

Jisung isn’t ready to see Minho naked. He feels like the moment he sees Minho’s dick, the Earth’s rotation will shift, tilting just so, in a way that will have Jisung falling off the planet and sucked into a black hole. Okay, the metaphor makes no sense and it’s not fucking helpful. Jisung can’t be thinking about holes right now. 

He lets out a drawn out groan, full of anguish.

“You okay in there?” Minho asks.

“I’ll let you in,” Jisung says and unlatches the door. He opens it and pokes his head out. His eyes almost bug out when he sees Minho standing on the other side buck naked. Jisung plonks his head against the glass door with a whimper.

Minho snickers. “Let me in?” he asks, placing his palm on the door and pushing it a little. Jisung stumbles backwards like Minho had used his entire strength instead of just applying a gentle pressure. 

Minho gets in, closes the door, locks it without looking away from Jisung. Jisung tries really hard not to look down as Minho approaches him, he doesn’t want the last thread of his sanity to slip and swirl down the shower drain. But it’s an exercise in futility, really, his eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they trail down Minho’s firm chest, his soft-looking stomach, his… fuck. He’s big and he’s not even hard. Maybe Jisung should just drown.

“Eyes are up here,” Minho teases.

Jisung gurgles like he’s actually drowning. Maybe he is, in his own fucking spit. Minho laughs. “Enjoying the view?” he asks.

Jisung wants to shrink himself like Scott Lang and get sucked into the drain and die. He turns around and walks into the spray, the hot water feeling cold on his burning skin. Minho is plastering his chest to his back and hugging his stomach not even five seconds later. Jisung only doesn’t jump because he was somehow expecting it, anticipating it.

Minho noses a trail up Jisung’s neck. Jisung shudders, grabbing Minho forearms. Minho kisses his shoulder and squeezes his arms around him, pushing Jisung forward so he can also get under the spray. Jisung leans into Minho’s chest, resting the back of his head against his shoulder and closing his eyes, feeling the water stream down his chest. 

Minho hums. “I really need to rinse myself.”

“Lemme-” Jisung shifts when Minho’s hand slides down his stomach, gasps when it settles on the soft skin above his pubes. “Lemme wash you.”

Minho sucks on the skin of Jisung’s shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” he whispers against Jisung’s skin. “Okay, baby.” The water suddenly turns off.

Jisung frowns and turns around in Minho’s arms. “Why did you turn it off?”

Minho just grins at him, hands sliding down so he can grab Jisung’s ass. Jisung yips when he squeezes it. Minho’s eyes crinkle as he giggles.

Jisung slaps him, Minho squeezes his ass harder, has him squirming just a little. Jisung isn’t going to survive this. 

He heaves a breath and reaches for his bar of soap on the shelf and rubs it before placing it back and putting his hands on Minho’s chest, it’s solid but squishy. Jisung soaps Minho’s pecs up, squeezing his legs together to fight a boner, but it’s useless when he’s so close to Minho, when he’s sliding his hands down and rubbing his skin, feeling the give of his stomach. It’s even softer than he imagined. Jisung wants to bite it, so he bites his own bottom lip instead.

He grabs the soap again and gets on his knees. He looks up at Minho, leaning into his touch when Minho places a hand on his head.

“You look so pretty like this,” Minho says.

Jisung’s stomach clenches. He bites back a whimper and starts rubbing Minho’s left leg, fighting a moan as he feels the flex of Minho’s muscles against his palm. He gets a couple of squeezes in that has Minho chuckling and caressing his hair. Soaps it up, rubs it, trails his fingers over the skin before giving Minho’s other leg the same reverent attention, worships it quietly. Minho stays silent, lets him do his thing. A blessing, really, Jisung has embarrassed himself enough today.

His gaze flits to Minho’s cock. Oh, hello. It’s hard and curving slightly to the left. Jisung wants to put his mouth on it really fucking bad. He goes to lean in, but Minho is quicker, grabbing Jisung’s hair and pulling his head back with a tug. Jisung whines, but doesn’t fight it. He looks up at Minho through his lashes and pouts.

“Not now, baby,” Minho murmurs. “You done with my legs?”

“Yeah,” Jisung whispers. He looks at Minho’s cock, fingers clenching at the thought of touching it. “Can I…”

“Can you what?” Minho asks. Tugs on Jisung’s hair. “Look at me.”

Jisung licks his lips and meets Minho’s eyes. “Can I soap up your dick?”

The corner of Minho’s mouth ticks up. “You wanna touch it?”

“I’m just being helpful,” Jisung supplies, a little bratty.

Minho laughs, derisive. “Is that so?”

Jisung pouts. “Please?”

“Mm,” Minho’s hand slides down, cups his jaw. “Just soap it up, yeah? Don’t get any ideas.”

Jisung has never met a man that wasn’t eager to get off, so Minho denying it surprises him. Minho is so weird, but Jisung finds it exciting, being teased like this makes his stomach churn a little. Minho is giving him what he wants, but not entirely, he’s holding back. Jisung wants to make him come, but he feels like that won’t fly with Minho right now and it only serves to make Jisung even harder.

Jisung rubs the soap and reaches for Minho’s cock. He strokes it once, twice. Slides his hands down and soaps up Minho’s balls, fondling them, squeezing. Minho hums, thumbing the hinge of Jisung’s jaw. “That’s it, baby,” he says. “Now get up.”

“But–”

“Get up, Jisung,” Minho demands, his voice doesn’t leave room for protest.

Jisung sighs, but pushes himself up. Minho cups his face and leans in, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s cupid’s bow. Jisung reaches back, hand touching the tap and twisting it. Water starts gushing out. He walks backwards, pulling Minho with him so he’s under the spray and washes the soap off him. 

Minho steals Jisung’s towel when they get out of the shower. Jisung is about to protest, but Minho wraps the towel around Jisung’s shoulders and grins at him. Jisung rolls his eyes but lets Minho dry him. Minho is thorough, rubbing the towel all over Jisung’s body until he’s satisfied. 

“Aren’t you gonna dry my hair?” Jisung asks.

“I was getting to it,” Minho says before he starts rubbing Jisung’s hair dry. Jisung laughs when Minho sticks the towel in his ears. “There. Can I use your towel now? I forgot mine.”

“Sure,” Jisung says as he walks to the bench where he left his bag. Minho slaps him with the towel, making Jisung yip and almost trip on his own feet. Minho cackles. “Dickhead,” Jisung grumbles as he unzips his bag and starts pulling his clean clothes out of it. 

He looks towards Minho and can’t help but stare as Minho dries himself.

Minho flicks his eyes at him and winks as he rubs between his legs. Jisung focuses back on his bag, entire face burning like a house on fire. He gets dressed without looking at Minho after that.

Minho is leaning against the lockers as Jisung puts on his shoes. He’s already fully dressed, bag slung over his shoulder as he sips from his shaker. His bottom lip is red from it. Jisung wonders what’s in it. Is it blood? Jisung snickers to himself at the outlandish thought.

“What’s in there?” Jisung asks. “Blood?”

Minho’s lips curl around the lip. “You think I’m a vampire?”

“Well, first off,” Jisung starts. “You worked out, but you weren’t even sweaty when you came into the shower. Second, you’re strong as fuck. But I don’t see why a vampire would work out, considering they don’t need it, supernatural strength and all. So maybe that means you just like strawberry flavoured shit.”

“Well, maybe I’m not fully a vampire,” Minho plays along. 

“Yeah?” Jisung asks. “But why would a half vampire need to work out?”

“Maybe because they like to work out and the weights still tickle until a certain age? Then they can’t anymore, because they developed supernatural strength,” Minho offers.

Jisung barks out a laugh. “Why would that happen?”

Minho shrugs. “It’s just how things are. Vampire blood overpowers human blood, you become a full-fledged vampire when you hit thirty. It’s kinda like puberty but all in one night.”

Jisung laughs. “You seem to have considered this before.”

Minho smirks. “I have an overactive imagination.”

“Really, though,” Jisung says. “What’s in your shaker?”

“It’s a secret,” Minho says, taking another sip. 

“Come on,” Jisung whines. “I want to get big thighs like yours, share it with the class.”

Minho laughs. “You done?”

Jisung pouts, setting his foot down on the floor and crossing his arms. He’s not gonna move until Minho tells him the recipe of his protein shake.

Minho huffs in amusement. “I see what you’re doing, we’ll stay here all night. I’m very patient.”

“Please?” Jisung juts his bottom lip out further.

“You’re not gonna like it,” Minho says. “It’s not for everyone.”

“Can I take a sip?” Jisung asks, tilting his head in the direction of the shaker. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Minho uncrews the lid and brings the shaker to his mouth and starts chugging it.

“Hyung!” Jisung yells, voice echoing in the empty locker room. He gets to his feet and inches closer to Minho, tries to reach for the shaker, but Minho grabs his arm, turns him around and presses him to his chest in one swift, fluid motion, arm firmly wrapped around Jisung. Jisung is so turned on by it he doesn’t question how Minho managed to do that one handed. 

Minho lets out a little ah right in Jisung’s ear. Jisung’s entire body erupts in goosebumps. “You can’t overpower me, baby,” Minho whispers. Jisung doesn’t reply, still reeling from being manhandled so easily like that. Minho chuckles, squeezing Jisung’s waist. “You ready to go?”

Jisung just nods dumbly.

“Let’s go,” Minho says, patting Jisung’s stomach before letting go of him. Jisung stays pinned in place as he watches Minho grab Jisung’s bag and walk out of the locker room.

“Jisung, come on!” Minho yells and Jisung jumps, following after him like he’s under a siren’s thrall.

Minho’s car is not what Jisung expected. A black BYD Seal. Jisung didn’t peg Minho for an electric car type of guy. He actually didn’t consider what type of guy Minho would be at all, if he’s being honest. Was too busy ogling his legs and trying not to die every time Minho teased him or flirted with him. But now that he thinks about it, Minho is kind of an enigma. 

He didn’t share anything about himself, but, to be fair, Jisung also didn’t. They’ve only been flirting this whole time, which is fine if they’re only going to hook up and shit. That’s not Jisung’s usual MO, though. 

He doesn’t fuck strangers, he hasn’t fucked anyone in quite some time, actually. He’s a hopeless romantic, a home dates type of guy, but he hasn’t had much luck with that lately. Which. Sigh. Well.

“You’re in your head,” is what pulls Jisung back to reality. “Anything you want to share?”

“Didn’t expect you to drive an electric car,” Jisung says.

Minho tilts his head as he opens the passenger car door for Jisung. “I got it because it’s cute.”

Jisung laughs, sliding into the seat. It’s comfortable, which is to be expected considering it looks like a gamer chair. 

“And because of the ergonomic seats,” Minho adds. “That look like gamer chairs.” It’s like he’s in Jisung’s head. Is he? Makes you wonder.

Jisung hums, buckling his seatbelt. “You a gamer?”

“Sometimes,” Minho says, snapping Jisung’s door shut and walking around the car to get to his own door. Minho opens the door, slides into his seat and grins at Jisung. “You look like a Genshin player.” He closes his door.

Jisung huffs a laugh. Arches an eyebrow. “A Genshin player? Why?”

Minho grins. “Vibes.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Put on your seatbelt.”

Minho snickers but obliges.

“Good boy,” Jisung coos.

Minho snaps his teeth at him, making him laugh.

“Give me your address,” Minho says.

“You’re really taking me home?”

“Where else would I take you?”

“My roommates are home,” Jisung pouts.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?”

“I like privacy, though,” Jisung argues.

Minho purses his lips. “I don’t, uh.” He squints, licks his lips. He seems to be struggling with words, which surprises Jisung. Minho has been so sure of himself this whole time, seeing him like this makes him feel human. That relaxes Jisung. “I don’t usually take people to my place.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Jisung assures. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, we can go to my place. It’s no problem, for real. We don’t even need to fuck today, we can just hang out?”

“I wasn’t going to fuck you today,” Minho says.

Jisung frowns. “You’ve been flirting with me this whole time and you’re telling me you weren’t going to fuck me? Are you serious?”

“Don’t be mad,” Minho says, reaching for Jisung’s face and cupping his cheek. “I’m going to fuck you eventually, I just want to get to know you better. Tease you a bit more.”

“You…”

“I mean.” Minho rubs Jisung’s cheek. “If you want me to fuck you and never see you again, I understand.”

“No,” Jisung grabs Minho’s wrist. Looks straight into his eyes. Minho is looking at him with a soft expression. “I want to get to know you better. I just thought, well, I thought you just wanted to fuck me. I’m glad that’s not the case.”

Minho thumbs at Jisung’s bottom lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“We can go to my place,” Minho says. “I’ll make you dinner.”

Jisung perks up. “You cook?”

“Yeah,” Minho smiles. “You mind if we stop at the grocery store? I haven’t had time to go.”

“I don’t mind it at all,” Jisung says. “I love grocery shopping.”

“You’re cute,” Minho says and starts the car. “What do you want to eat, by the way?”

“What’s the house special?” Jisung asks.

Minho gives him an enigmatic little smile. “It’s a secret.”

Jisung throws his head back against the seat and groans. “Not that again!”

Minho snickers. “For real, though. I don’t want to end up making something you don’t like. What are you craving?”

“Mmmm. Dakgangjeong, not gonna lie,” he says.

“Dakgangjeong it is,” Minho says. “Can you make the list? I’ll tell you what we need to buy, I know the recipe by heart.”

Jisung whips out his phone. Unlocks it.

“Add my number to your phone while you’re at it,” Minho says. 

Jisung smiles and goes to his contact list.

Minho keeps bumping the back of Jisung’s legs with the shopping cart. Jisung thought it was an accident at first, but every time he’s distracted looking for the right aisle, Minho bumps the cart against his calves and makes him shriek.

Jisung decides to walk behind Minho after the third time it happens.

“You’re no fun,” Minho grumbles, looking at Jisung over his shoulder.

“Eyes ahead,” Jisung says. “We don’t want you bumping on anyone else, right?”

Minho pouts.

“Not gonna work,” Jisung says. “We need to get the chicken breast.”

Minho lets out a long suffering sigh and steers the cart in the right direction.

They finish shopping and take everything to the car. They load the car together. It’s so utterly domestic it makes something flip in Jisung’s stomach. He could get used to this, used to the calmness that comes with doing mundane tasks with someone he’s comfortable with. He wonders if Minho is thinking the same. He looks at him and smiles as he sees him setting the bags in the trunk with his bottom lip between his teeth as he hums.

He doesn’t know when Minho’s presence became familiar. It hasn’t even been two hours since they met each other, but being around him brings the kind of familiarity you only develop after years of knowing someone. 

It should be weird. Should feel weird, growing close to someone so fast, but Minho makes it feel so easy. They still don’t know a lot about each other, but it seems like their souls locked pinkies the moment Jisung laid his eyes on Minho.

Jisung lets out a soft laugh.

“What?” Minho asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Minho squints. 

Jisung smiles at him. 

Minho takes the bags from Jisung and sets them down. He grabs Jisung’s face. “You’re an overthinker,” he says.

“Great assessment, doc,” Jisung teases.

“I like when you talk, so be an overthinker out loud,” Minho says.

“You really don’t want to know what I’m thinking,” Jisung argues.

“You don’t know that,” Minho refutes.

“I was thinking that I feel comfortable around you,” Jisung says. “It should feel weird, shouldn’t it?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you’re not supposed to grow close to someone this fast,” Jisung says.

“Mm.” Minho tucks a strand of Jisung’s hair behind his ear. “I don’t know, I usually don’t question when good things happen. I prefer to enjoy them, because I know that worrying about it going to shit will take me away from it as it’s happening. I’m glad I met you, I don’t know where this will go, but I want to be fully present to enjoy your presence for as long as you let me.”

“I don’t even know how old you are and you’re already confessing?” Jisung jokes. Jisung always tries to be funny when he’s vulnerable.

Minho’s eyes turn soft. “I’m twenty-six. You?” 

“Twenty-four,” Jisung says. He suddenly feels like an exposed nerve with the way Minho smiles at him. It’s like he wants to unravel him, eyes dark and searching as they roam over Jisung’s face. Jisung squirms. 

Minho laughs. “I’m not gonna bite.”

“You look like you will,” Jisung says. 

“Mm,” Minho’s lips crook on one side. “Maybe I will.”

“Maybe I want you to,” Jisung says, inching closer and wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck. He lets their chest bump together as he leans in, ghosts his lips against Minho’s. Minho lets out a laugh through his nose, it tickles Jisung’s own, his upper lip. Jisung presses their lips together as Minho’s hands find his hips. 

“I’m not gonna make out with you in public,” Minho murmurs against Jisung’s mouth. “Unless you ask nicely.”

Jisung considers. “Well, we better get going, then?” he asks, pulling back to grin at Minho.

“Not an exhibitionist?” Minho asks.

“I can be persuaded,” Jisung says. “But only after the third date.” He lets go of Minho and makes his way to the passenger seat.

“I’ll remember that!” Minho shouts.

Jisung throws his head back and laughs.

Jisung is sitting on Minho’s kitchen island as Minho unloads the bags from the building cart.

“Are you just gonna sit there looking pretty or are you gonna help me?” Minho asks as he sets the bags next to Jisung. It doesn’t look like he needs any help, considering he grabbed almost all the bags with one hand.

Jisung flutters his eyelashes. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“I think you’re a little shit,” Minho says, but grabs the rest of the bags and sets them down. “Can you take the cart back to the garage? You can leave the door open.”

Jisung pouts. “But I’m comfy.”

“On a slab of granite?”

“My ass serves as great cushioning.” Jisung grins, slapping his ass.

Minho hums, inching closer to Jisung and grabbing his thighs. He spreads his legs and walks into the space they create, sliding his hands to Jisung’s ass and squeezing. “I can see that,” he comments, kneading Jisung’s ass. “Squishy. Good to bite.”

Jisung grabs Minho’s face and brings him into a kiss. Minho laughs into his mouth, bringing a hand to Jisung’s face and tonguing at Jisung’s bottom lip. Jisung lets his mouth drop open, gasps when Minho teases his tongue with his own before deepening the kiss. 

Minho’s other hand finds Jisung’s face as their lips slide together, as Jisung wraps his arms around his neck. Minho doesn’t let it get faster, kissing Jisung slowly like he’s savouring his taste. Jisung doesn’t mind, he likes that it’s almost lazy, likes how Minho takes his time to explore every corner of his mouth, angling his face so he can get deeper, just deeper, never faster.

Jisung moans against Minho’s mouth when Minho nips his tongue. Minho jumps away from him.

“Wh–”

“You’re dangerous,” Minho says, eyes dark as he pants.

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “What did I do?”

Minho gets out from between his legs and goes to the grocery bags without explaining himself. Jisung watches him with a big question mark above his head. What the fuck just happened?

Jisung watches as Minho cooks. He keeps wondering what happened for Minho to just jump away like that. What did he mean by Jisung being dangerous? Was he getting horny? Jisung is so fucking curious.

“Why did you say I was dangerous?” Jisung asks.

Minho stills. “What?”

“You said I was dangerous,” Jisung says. “I was just wondering why.”

“You make me crazy,” Minho says as he keeps dicing the chicken. “But I need to be careful, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jisung frowns. “How would you hurt me?”

“You really don’t want to know,” Minho says, still not turning around to face Jisung.

“You’re being so cryptic,” Jisung pouts. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not intentionally,” Minho says. “But sometimes I can’t control myself, that’s why I haven’t fucked anyone in a while.”

“You–” Jisung stops. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Minho says. “I usually don’t do this, you know? I don’t really date, don’t really hook up, but you… I don’t know, there’s something about you. Something that tells me you won’t judge me for being who I am.”

“What does that have to do with you hurting me?”

“Can we please not talk about this?”

Jisung pouts. “I’m sorry.”

Minho finally turns around. He has a pained expression on his face as he leans against the counter. “It’s…” he hesitates, wringing his shirt in his hands. It’s kind of disconcerting seeing him so nervous. “Hard to explain. I need to make sure you’re not going to run away when I tell you.”

“You make it sound like you’re a serial killer,” Jisung says. Then squints. “You don’t seem like a serial killer to me.”

“You’re too trusting,” Minho says, but he seems to have mellowed out a little.

“So you are a serial killer,” Jisung says.

Minho laughs. “I’m not.”

“You worry too much,” Jisung says. “Are you, like, the type to get really into Dom space when you’re with someone else? Even when you’re not doing a scene?”

Minho smirks. “You think I’m a Dom?”

“If you’re not, I’m gonna have to leave,” Jisung jokes.

Minho barks out a laugh. “No need, you’re in the right place.”

“Not that I think BDSM is necessary for sex or anything,” Jisung says. “But I like it when someone orders me around a little, when they get a little rough, but, like, I don’t need it to get off. If you’re not into that, it’s totally fine. You’re hot, I’d go vanilla for you.”

Minho giggles. “Noted.”

“But, for real, you don’t need to worry about hurting me,” Jisung says. “I like a little pain.”

“Mm,” Minho says. “I’ll still be careful.”

“Are you still gonna kiss me?” Jisung asks.

Minho nods.

“Then I’m fine with it, whatever makes you comfortable.” Jisung grins.

Minho closes the distance between them in a blink and wedges himself between Jisung’s legs. Jisung’s eyes widen. So fucking fast. Minho smirks and grabs his face, bringing him into a quick kiss. “Thank you,” Minho says as he pulls back. “For being understanding.”

“I don’t want to force you into anything, hyung.” Jisung smiles at him. “I mean, I’ll be patient only if you tell me your protein shake recipe.”

Minho lets out a startled laugh. “You still haven’t forgotten about that?”

Jisung shrugs. “I want thick thighs.”

Minho plonks his forehead into Jisung’s, making him snicker. “You’re stupid,” he says, brushing their noses together. 

Jisung plays with the tips of Minho’s hair. “Please,” he says.

“I’m not telling you,” Minho says.

Jisung pulls Minho’s ponytail.

Minho laughs. “You can pull it harder.”

Jisung rolls his eyes and smooths his hand down Minho’s neck. “One day,” he says.

“Mm,” Minho hums. “We’ll see.”

“Go away,” Jisung pushes at Minho’s chest, but Minho doesn’t budge. “Go cook for me, be useful.”

Minho laughs, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s nose. “Whatever you want, princess.”

Jisung’s heart blips. He makes an involuntary little noise that has Minho smirking.

“You like that?” Minho asks, smoothing his hands up Jisung’s thighs. Thumbs at the seam of his sweats. “You like when I call you princess?”

Jisung’s entire face must be bright pink, considering it’s on fucking fire.

“Awww, you’re so pink,” Minho coos, eyes twinkling.

Jisung hides his face in his hands. “Go away,” he whines pathetically. 

Minho laughs, squeezing Jisung’s thighs. “Give me a kiss and I’ll go,” he says.

Jisung whines.

Minho grabs his hands and pulls them off his face. Jisung closes his eyes.

“Come on, jagi,” Minho lets go of one of Jisung’s hands to cup his cheek. “Just a kiss.”

Jisung flutters his eyes open and pouts. Minho grins and presses a kiss to his jutted out bottom lip before walking back to the chicken.

Jisung just stays there, still pouting.

Jisung gets bored roughly five minutes later, so he decides to explore. He jumps off the island, bare feet smacking against the tiles as he makes his way to the fridge. He opens it and gasps. There’s so many trays of jello inside. Dark red. 

“Why is there so much jello in your fridge?” Jisung asks, twisting around to look at Minho. “How into strawberry are you?”

Minho gives him a secretive little smile. “Very into it.”

“Huh,” Jisung says. “Can I have some?”

“It’s zero sugar,” Minho says.

“Blegh.” Jisung sticks his tongue out, closing the fridge. “Nevermind.” He walks towards Minho and wraps his arms around his middle, hooking his chin on his shoulder.

Minho is mincing garlic with his bare hands. Jisung shouldn’t be turned on by that, but would you look at that, his dick is already half hard.

“I can feel your dick poking my leg,” Minho comments as he throws the garlic into the bowl next to him.

“Are you complaining?” Jisung asks, pressing closer.

“It’s a bit distracting,” Minho says.

Jisung pouts. “Want me to let go of you?”

“Nah.” Minho leans back. “You’re comfy.” He slides the bowl to the centre and starts kneading the chicken. Jisung watches with rapt attention as he mixes everything together, it’s relaxing, watching Minho cook. Almost lulls Jisung to sleep.

Minho stops after a moment and walks to the sink with Jisung glued to his back like a giant pacific octopus to wash his hands. 

“Now we have to wait an hour,” he says as he wipes his hands on his sweatshorts. He turns around in Jisung’s arms and cups his face. “You into anime?” 

Jisung grins. “Yeah.”

Minho presses a kiss to his mouth. “Apothecary Diaries okay?” he asks as he pulls back.

Jisung nods. “More than okay.”

Minho lets go of Jisung’s face and reaches down, grabbing the back of Jisung’s thighs and hoisting him up. Jisung yelps, instinctively wrapping himself around Minho as Minho makes his way out of the kitchen.

Minho plops down on the couch with Jisung still in his lap. Jisung leans back, pressing his hands to Minho’s chest. Minho squeezes his arms around him. 

“Hi,” Jisung says.

“Hey.” Minho grins.

“So,” Jisung says. “Apothecary Diaries?”

“I kind of want to just stare at you,” Minho says.

“I can put my head in your lap and let you stare at my perfect side profile if you want,” Jisung offers, cheeky.

“I want to see your whole face, though,” Minho argues.

“You’re the one who offered to watch anime,” Jisung points out.

“I looked at your face and changed my mind,” Minho says with a pout.

Jisung reaches for Minho’s mouth and pulls at his bottom lip with his index and middle finger. Minho tries to bite them. Jisung jumps. “Hey!”

“You offered them to me,” Minho says.

“No, I didn’t,” Jisung says.

Minho looks at him through his lashes. “Maybe you should.”

“So you can bite them off?” Jisung huffs. “I don’t think so.”

“Put your fingers in my mouth,” Minho says.

“No.”

“Put your fingers in my mouth right now,” Minho demands.

“Why would I?”

Minho smiles demurely at him. “I wanna suck on them a little.”

Jisung squints. “I don’t trust you.”

Minho pouts at him. 

“Cute,” Jisung says. “But you’re gonna have to beg.”

“I thought you were a sub,” Minho says.

Jisung puffs out his chest with a grin. “I contain multitudes,” he brushes his thumb under Minho’s bottom lip. “Now beg.”

Minho purses his lips.

“It’s just one word, hyung,” Jisung says. “I promise it won’t hurt your ego.”

“It’ll bruise it a little,” Minho pouts.

“I’m gonna get off your lap,” Jisung threatens.

“I won’t let you,” Minho says. “I’ve been going to the gym longer than you.”

“You don’t know that,” Jisung says. “Maybe I’ve been going for years.”

“So that means you’ve been skipping leg days for years,” Minho says. “Considering you have a solid upper body and your legs are twigs.”

“You said they were pretty!”

“And they are,” Minho says, running his hands over Jisung’s thighs. “But they’re bambified.”

“You’re really not helping your case here,” Jisung says, glaring at Minho.

“Let me suck on your fingers,” Minho offers. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

“You know what you have to do,” Jisung says, tapping Minho’s upper lip. Minho tries to catch it with his teeth. “Ah, ah. Ask nicely, stop being a brat.”

Minho barks out a laugh. “I’m being a brat?” He arches his eyebrows. “Pot, kettle.”

“Only a brat can tame a brat,” Jisung argues.

“That’s enough Reddit for you,” Minho says.

“Oh my god, fuck you,” Jisung says, but he’s laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“Just the tip,” Minho says, widening his eyes.

“Just one word,” Jisung says, mimicking him.

Minho glares at him.

Jisung hovers his finger over his mouth like bait.

Minho sighs. “Please,” he mumbles.

Jisung cups his hands around his ears and leans forward. “What?”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Minho says.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to be saying, hyung,” Jisung says. “Be good for me, yeah?”

Minho lets out a sigh. “Meow.”

“I don’t talk cat,” Jisung says.

“Oh, fuck!” Minho exclaims. “My cats are locked in my room!” He grabs Jisung and deposits him on the couch like he weighs nothing, jumps off the couch and disappears in the blink of an eye. 

What the fuck.

Jisung huffs and follows after him.

Minho is opening the door at the end of the hallway when Jisung approaches him. Jisung looks over Minho’s shoulder and sees three cats on the bed. A mackerel tabby sprawled on his back and two identical looking orange cats sleeping on top of each other. Jisung coos.

“They’re not usually this quiet,” Minho says as he pushes the door open gently. “So I forgot about them. You’re also distracting.”

“Maybe you’re just a terrible dad,” Jisung jokes.

Minho kicks a leg back, making Jisung snicker. Minho huffs and walks towards the bed. The orange tabby rolls off the other one and sits on the bed. He blinks at Minho. Minho reaches for him and grabs him, bringing him to his chest. “Hey, Soonie. Sleep well?”

The cat meows softly. 

“Glad to hear it,” Minho says, scratching behind Soonie’s ear. He turns to Jisung. “This is Soonie, the king of the house and the oldest.”

Jisung inches closer and offers a hand for Soonie to sniff. Soonie eyes it before taking a wary sniff. He licks Jisung’s finger a second later, making Jisung giggle. “He’s cute.”

“The other cheese tabby is Doongie, he’s the prankster and middle child,” Minho says. Doongie is licking his paw when Jisung looks at him. “Then we have Dori,” Minho points to the mackerel tabby that’s stretching on the bed. “The baby. Well, he’s not really a baby, but you know what I mean.”

Jisung sits on the bed and Dori approaches him. Places a paw on his thigh. Jisung smiles down at him. “Hi,” he says, offering his hand to Dori. Dori sniffs it then proceeds to headbutt it. Jisung laughs and scratches at his head. Dori trills and tries to bite his hand. “He’s just like you,” he says, looking up at Minho. “Trying to bite me. Am I food or something?”

Minho gives him a secretive little smile. “Yes.”

Jisung kicks at him. Minho snickers. 

Dori meows, trying to get Jisung’s attention by headbutting his hand again. Jisung grins, reaching for his face and squeezing it. Dori tries to pry his hands away.

“You’re torturing my cat,” Minho says.

“Shut up,” Jisung says, leaning in and touching Dori’s nose with his. “This is affection.”

“That’s demoralisation,” Minho says.

Jisung barks out a laugh. “Shut up. You talk like I’m bullying Dori. We’re just getting acquainted.”

“You didn’t grab my face and touch noses with me when you met me,” Minho argues.

Jisung looks at him. Arches an eyebrow, a smirk spreading over his lips. “Are you jealous? Of a cat?” he asks. Minho pouts at him. Jisung giggles and gets off the bed. 

He approaches Minho, Minho takes a step back. Jisung grins as he takes a step forward. “Here, kitty kitty,” he says.

Minho scurries away from him and Jisung follows after him while cackling maniacally. 

Minho ambushes him by the entrance of the hallway. Jisung falls backwards and hits the floor with a shriek. Minho giggles and cages his head in. Jisung looks up at him and pouts. “Ow.”

Minho giggles. “Sorry, too rough?”

“You really are a cat,” Jisung says. “Pouncing on me like that. I’m just a defenseless little rat, you know.”

Minho hums, straddling Jisung’s thighs and sitting up. He takes out his ponytail and places the elastic between his teeth as his hair falls over his face. Jisung watches as he tucks his hair behind his ear with rapt attention. Minho is so gorgeous it makes Jisung’s stomach tie itself in knots. Minho takes the elastic from his mouth and slides it into his wrist. Jisung can’t take his eyes off him. He’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. So beautiful it makes Jisung hard.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung blurts.

Minho smiles. “Look who’s talking.”

“I’m literally a worm next to you,” Jisung says, pushing himself into a sitting position. He grabs Minho’s face and brings it closer, rubbing their noses together. “There.”

Minho laughs. “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Sure,” Jisung says, tilting Minho’s head up so he can kiss his upper lip. “Jealous kitty.”

Minho snaps his teeth at him, catching his bottom lip. Jisung snickers, kissing Minho fully on the mouth. “You think our hour is up?” he asks.

Minho takes his phone out of his pocket and checks it. “We still have forty minutes.”

“Are you still not fucking me today?”

Minho tilts his head. “You want me to fuck you right now?”

Jisung makes his eyes as big as possible. “You’ve teased me enough, don’t you think?”

Minho smirks. “Not really.”

“Please, hyung,” Jisung pouts.

“Tell you what,” Minho says. “I’ll plug you up, and if you manage not to come while eating, I’ll fuck you.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Jisung says.

Minho’s smile turns evil. “Even with a vibrating plug?”

Jisung’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth to protest, but Minho kisses him. Jisung whines into his mouth, making him laugh. Minho pulls back. “Do we have a deal?”

Jisung whines louder.

Minho grabs his face, dark eyes boring into Jisung’s. “Do we have a deal?” he asks, firmer.

“Yes,” Jisung grits out.

“Good boy,” Minho pats his cheek and pushes himself back to his feet. He offers his hand to Jisung. 

Jisung considers batting it away, but he’s actually excited. Not that he’ll tell Minho. He’s already way too smug. He grabs Minho’s hand and lets him haul him up, falling into his chest with a huff. Minho presses a kiss to the side of his head and turns him around, pushing him back towards the bedroom.

“Where are the cats?” Jisung asks when they walk in. 

“Living room,” Minho says. 

Jisung arches his brows. “How the fuck.”

“Cats are like that,” Minho says. “You don’t even notice when they relocate.”

“Huh,” Jisung says.

Minho laughs, squeezing Jisung’s hips before letting go of him. “You get used to it.”

Jisung walks to the bed and throws himself on it. He rolls on his back and pushes himself up into a sitting position as Minho closes the door. Jisung points his toes. “So,” he starts, puffing out his cheeks. He lets out a breath. He always feels a little awkward in moments like this. “Should I just take off my pants?”

Minho walks to his closet. “No, I’m doing everything. Just sit there and look pretty for me.”

Jisung tongues at his canine. “Are you gonna let me come this time around?”

“While I finger you?” Minho asks. “Of course, baby. I’m not that evil.”

“You’re literally plugging me up and edging me while I eat,” Jisung argues. “That’s pretty evil to me.”

Minho laughs, making his way to the bed with a pink plug in his hand. He sets it down on the nightstand, opens the drawer and grabs a bottle of lube from inside. It’s also pink. 

“Is that strawberry?”

Minho just grins at him as he tosses the lube on the bed.

Jisung barks out a laugh. “Of course it is.”

Minho shrugs. “What can I say? I’m predictable.”

“You’re weird,” Jisung says.

Minho tilts his head and smiles lazily at him.

“I like that,” Jisung says. “That you’re weird.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re a good weird,” Jisung says. “Type of weird that makes me want to sit on your dick.”

Minho laughs. “Good to know.” he climbs on the bed, knee crawling towards Jisung. “Arms up.” 

Jisung lifts his arms and lets Minho pull his shirt up and off him. Minho places his hand on Jisung’s chest and pushes him down on his back before manoeuvring around and spreading Jisung’s knees so he can settle himself between his thighs. 

“You’re definitely not a worm,” Minho says.

“Huh?”

“You said you were a worm compared to me,” Minho explains, running his palms down Jisung’s stomach reverently, dark eyes following the trail of his hands. Jisung’s breath hitches. “And you’re definitely not a worm. You’re perfect.” 

“Hyung…” Jisung breathes out.

Minho trails his fingers over the ridges of Jisung’s abs, flicks his eyes up. Meets Jisung’s wide ones. Jisung feels pinned in place by his burning gaze. He feels like prey. Minho is looking at him like he wants to eat him. Jisung’s cock twitches.

“You’re gorgeous,” Minho says, teasing at Jisung’s waistband. Jisung’s cock is fully hard right now, tenting his pants. Minho doesn’t pay it any mind, which only makes Jisung harder. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to touch you the moment I saw you, wanted to make you tick.”

Jisung swallows thickly. His throat is suddenly so fucking dry. He needs water.

“Can I, uh,” he rasps. “Can I have some water?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Smirks. “You thirsty, baby?”

“I’m fucking parched,” Jisung says. “Please, get me some water before I die.”

Minho snickers. “Okay.” he slides out of bed and pads out of the bedroom. 

Jisung heaves a sigh. He’s not going to survive how intense Minho is. He’s not complaining, far from it, but he needs to recompose himself so he doesn’t end up coming in his pants like he suffers from premature ejaculation. 

He runs a hand over his face and blows a raspberry. Fuck. 

“You okay in there?” Minho asks.

Jisung startles. He’s so fucking fast. He glares at Minho.

Minho laughs. “You’re so jumpy.”

Jisung sits up on the bed and makes grabby hands for the cup in Minho’s hand. Minho climbs on the bed and straddles Jisung’s lap. He tilts Jisung’s chin up.

“Open up,” he says.

Jisung blinks at him. “Are you…”

“Giving you water?” Minho presses the lip of the cup to Jisung’s bottom lip. “Yeah.” 

“Oh,” Jisung says. “Okay.”

Minho cups Jisung’s jaw and tilts the cup. Water hits Jisung’s tongue, slides down. Jisung swallows. Minho upends the cup, more water filling Jisung’s mouth. It trickles down the corners, slides down his chin as he swallows.

“Good?” Minho asks as wipes Jisung’s mouth with his free hand.

“Uh.” Jisung doesn’t even know what to say, he’s so hard he’s dumb.

Minho smiles knowingly at him before sliding off his lap and setting the half empty cup on his nightstand. He turns back to Jisung and smirks. Jisung is just staring at him like he’s never seen him before. 

“Did I get you dumb, baby?” Minho asks as he spreads Jisung’s legs and throws his own over his left one so he can settle between Jisung’s thighs. “Can you talk?”

“I’m so hard it hurts,” Jisung blurts.

Minho giggles. “I can see that,” he says, cupping Jisung’s cock through his pants and making Jisung jump with a hiss. Minho hums, tracing Jisung’s bulge with his index finger. 

Jisung clenches his eyes shut, grits his teeth as he tries really hard not to come in his pants. “Hyung, please,” he grits out.

Minho hooks his fingers in Jisung’s waistband. Jisung flutters his eyes open and sees Minho smiling sweetly at him. “Let’s get you out of these pants, yeah?” he says. “Give your dick a little space to breathe.” 

“Thank god,” Jisung breathes out.

Minho snickers. “Hips up.”

Jisung cants his lips and lets out a breath of relief when Minho pulls his pants down his thighs. Jisung forwent his boxers, so his cock slaps against his stomach when it’s pulled free. He grabs it and squeezes it once, twice. Minho bats his hand away with one hand as he discards Jisung’s pants with the other. Jisung whines, kicking his legs. 

Minho shushes him. “All in due time, baby,” he says.

“I’m gonna explode,” Jisung says, splaying arms over the bed.

Minho pats his hip. “You’ll survive.”

“I don’t think I will,” Jisung says. “I think I’ll pass out the moment you slide a finger in.”

Minho laughs. “It’s okay, I’ll let you sleep if that happens. Need a break from entertaining you anyway.”

“Are you complaining?” Jisung asks, pushing himself up on his forearms and squinting at Minho. “I’m a delight, you should be thanking me for gracing you with my presence.”

“Should I?” Minho asks, trailing his fingertips up Jisung’s thighs. Feather-like, drawing a shudder out of Jisung. 

Jisung suddenly feels self conscious. “Am I bothering you?” he asks, small.

Minho’s eyes soften. “No, baby,” he reassures, squeezing Jisung’s thighs. “I was just joking.”

“It’s just-” Jisung looks away. “People have said I’m too much before, so I–I don’t know, it’s stupid. Sorry, I’m ruining the vibe.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” Minho says, slapping Jisung’s thigh and making him yip. “Don’t apologise. You’re not too much. I’ve never felt this comfortable around someone in my life, honestly. You match me. You don’t make me exhausted like people usually do. You’re perfect.”

Jisung’s nose stings. “Shut up, you’re gonna make me cry. I can’t cry before you finger me.”

“What about during?”

Jisung barks out a surprised laugh, feeling more stable. “You can try.”

“I feel like you cry easily when you’re overwhelmed,” Minho muses. 

Jisung snorts. “What are you? My therapist?” he asks. “Be useful and get your fingers inside me.”

Minho smiles. “Whatever you want, princess.”

“How do you want me?” Jisung asks. 

“What is more comfortable for you?”

“Mm, no one has ever asked me that before,” Jisung says. “So I don’t know? I actually don’t like going on all fours and I wanna see you, so… maybe on my side? My legs will obstruct my view if you finger me on my back. Wait! I wanna be on top of you, actually.”

Minho gets out from between Jisung’s legs and crawls so he’s lying next to him. He presses closer, grabs Jisung’s leg and throws it over his thigh. Jisung moves to straddle his hips. He sits up, places his hands on Minho’s chest and looks down at him.

Minho smiles, squeezing his thigh before trailing his fingertips up the side of it and grabbing his ass. “Like this?” he asks.

Jisung shifts, reaching for Minho’s face and cradling his cheek in his palm. Minho turns his face and presses a kiss to it. “Yeah,” Jisung breathes out. 

“Get me the lube,” Minho says, sitting up and grabbing Jisung’s thighs. Jisung spots the lube and grabs it, handing it to Minho. He bites into his bottom lip when Minho pops the bottle open and squeezes some into his hand. He watches Minho rubbing lube along his fingers with rapt attention, heart thrumming in his throat in anticipation. 

He wraps his arms around Minho’s neck. Minho hums and slides a hand down his side before reaching for Jisung’s ass. Jisung gasps when he feels a finger circle his hole. Closes his eyes and lets out a moan when Minho sinks his finger inside, up to the first knuckle.

“You seem loose,” Minho comments. 

Jisung flutters his eyes open. Looks at Minho through his lashes. “Fucked myself last night.”

Minho takes a deep breath. “Fuck,” he says, looking pained. “You’re so hot.”

Jisung giggles, letting go of his ass to grab Minho’s bicep. He feels it flex as Minho prods at his hole with two fingers. 

“Think you can take two?” Minho asks, teasing Jisung’s rim with the pad of his fingers. 

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes. “Please.”

“Before I start,” Minho says and his fingers disappear. Jisung lets out a whine in protest, but Minho just shushes him with a kiss to his lips. “We need some ground rules.”

“Stoplight system?” Jisung asks.

“You don’t have a safeword?” 

“I, well.” Jisung licks his lips. “I’ve never done this before?”

“You–” Minho stops. “But you were talking like you had experience?”

“I said I liked when people ordered me around and were a little rough,” Jisung says. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve ever done a proper scene. I was just slapped around a little.”

Minho is staring at him like he’s seen a ghost. Jisung snorts. “You’re just edging me,” he says. “Why do you look so scared?”

“We need to discuss this properly,” Minho says.

Jisung rolls his eyes. “I know the rules.”

Minho makes a face. “Have you been edged before?”

“Well, no,” Jisung says. “But I just gotta say red if it gets too much, right?”

“I mean, yeah,” Minho says. “But-”

“You’re overthinking, hyung,” Jisung says. “Just tell me your rules. I promise I’ll be fine.”

“You really want to do this?”

“Really fucking bad,” Jisung says as he sits up and grabs Minho’s face to bring it close to his. “Don’t worry, yeah?”

Minho sighs, his breath fanning Jisung’s face. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jisung gives him a peck. He pulls back. “Rules?”

“You said you know the rules,” Minho says, corner of his lips lifting. “Recite them to me.”

Jisung makes a face, letting his hands fall on his lap. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” Minho says. “Let’s see how much you know.”

“I didn’t know there was going to be a test,” Jisung grumbles, crossing his arms and pouting. 

Minho nudges his thigh with a laugh. “You’re so cute. Come on,” he rubs Jisung’s thigh.

Jisung lets out an exasperated sigh, puffs out his cheeks. Blows his breath out. “Okay. Green to keep going, yellow to slow down, red to stop. There.”

“Good boy,” Minho says, squeezing his thigh. “What else?”

“There’s more?”

Minho grins.

“Oh, you’re fucking with me,” Jisung says, then slaps Minho’s arm. Minho laughs. “Idiot.”

“Hard limits?” Minho says.

“I don’t know if I have any,” Jisung says. “I mean, you’re just edging me, there aren’t many hard limits when it comes to it. Right?”

“Well,” Minho says. “It really depends from person to person. Some people don’t like being edged. What if you don’t like it?”

“Then I don’t like it, I say red and we stop,” Jisung says simply. “But you said you were only gonna fuck me if I let you edge me. So. I’m open to it. It made my dick twitch even, thinking about it.”

Minho smirks. “Oh?”

“Don’t tease.” Jisung smacks Minho’s arm, making him snicker as he dodges it.

“Okay,” Minho says. “Where were we?”

Jisung shifts, reaching for Minho’s hand and guiding it to his ass. Minho laughs, grabbing a handful and squeezing before reaching for the lube. “It dried up a bit,” Minho explains when Jisung raises an eyebrow in question. He squeezes some into his palm and starts coating his fingers carefully before rubbing them to heat up the lube. He slides his lube-slicked hand up Jisung’s leg. Jisung makes a disgusted noise. 

“What?” Minho asks, looking at him.

“Sticky,” Jisung says.

“Spoiled,” Minho teases.

Jisung slaps Minho’s arm. Minho snickers and reaches between his asscheeks, feeling for his hole. Jisung sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and whines when Minho circles his rim slowly, arching into the touch. “Just stick them in.”

“Patience,” Minho says, sinking just the tip of his fingers inside.

“Hyung,” Jisung whines again.

“Shhh,” Minho thrusts his fingers all the way in one swift movement. Jisung’s leg spasms when he crooks them, grazing his prostate.

“Right there,” Jisung breathes out. “Just…”

“No,” Minho’s fingers retreat just a little. He scissors them open before he starts fucking Jisung leisurely. Jisung is squirming, trying to push back against Minho’s fingers. Minho sinks his nails into his walls, making Jisung jump with a surprised whine at the sting. “Mm.”

“Fuck,” Jisung breathes out. 

“Colour?” Minho asks.

“That was nothing,” Jisung says.

“Colour?” Minho presses.

“Green,” Jisung grits out.

“Good boy,” Minho says and slides his fingers all the way inside, crooks them. Jisung whimpers as Minho starts massaging his prostate, every nerve in his body lighting up as Minho puts increasingly more pressure on it. 

“Fuck,” Jisung moans, resting his forehead on his arm. “Fuck, hah, more, please.”

“Tell me what you want,” Minho says as he keeps rubbing, rubbing, rubbing. Jisung is going insane.

“More,” Jisung breathes out.

“More what?”

“Give me another, please.” He writhes when Minho presses harder.

“Another what?” Minho asks. God, Jisung is going to kill him. “I need full sentences, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Give me another finger!” Jisung almost yells.

“Shh,” Minho shushes him, still relentlessly rubbing Jisung’s prostate. Jisung is going to fucking come. “What was that?”

“Please, give me another finger,” he pants, shifting. He curls in on himself at the overwhelming pleasure. It hurts, hurts so good, he’s so close. “Please, I’m about to, fuh–about to come. Hyung, please, please, please.”

Minho pulls his fingers out and Jisung sags into him, sweat trickling down his temples. He tries to catch his breath, but Minho is fucking three fingers inside him and making him keen as he focuses back on his prostate. He’s not gonna make it, he’s not gonna fucking last. He’s so fucking close.

“Close,” he moans, fisting Minho’s sleeve. “Close. Please.”

“You can come, baby,” Minho says, rubbing Jisung’s thigh and the coil in Jisung’s gut tightens, tightens. Minho fucks him with his fingers. It releases, Jisung coming with a shout, clawing at Minho’s neck as his entire body convulses with it. Minho fucks him through it until he’s settling with little overwhelmed whimpers.

“That’s it,” Minho says, pulling his fingers out and rubbing Jisung’s ass. “That’s it, you did so well.”

“Holy shit,” Jisung breathes out, arms shaking. “I– fuck. Oh my god.”

Minho laughs. 

“That was–” Jisung is still reeling. “Fuck, I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

“Good?” Minho asks.

“Holy fuck,” Jisung says, then starts laughing. “God! You broke me, I think.”

Minho giggles. “You’re so dramatic.”

“No, for real,” Jisung insists. “I’m literally ruined.”

Minho presses a kiss to his head. “You’re delirious.”

“Absolutely,” Jisung says through giggles.

Minho flips them over and settles on top of Jisung, arms caging him in. “You ruined my shirt, by the way,” he says, wiping tears Jisung didn’t feel falling from his cheeks.

“You ruined my prostate,” Jisung counters, looking up at him. “So I think we’re even.”

Minho hums, then he frowns. “Are you okay?”

Jisung laughs, sliding his hands up Minho’s tattooed forearms. The lines are beautiful, jagged, curling around it in sharp swirls that look like inkblot tests. Jisung wants to lick them. “I want to lick your tattoos,” he blurts.

Minho huffs out a laugh. “You’re really out of it.”

“I’m fine,” Jisung says, rolling his eyes.

“Can I plug you up, then?”

“Give me a second,” Jisung says. “Just lie on top of me for a second.”

Minho lets his entire body weight fall on Jisung. Jisung wraps his arms around his shoulders and lets himself sink into the mattress with a contented sigh. “Just like that,” he says. “Mm.” 

Minho laughs, resting their foreheads together. Jisung closes his eyes.

Minho huffs out a laugh. “Don’t sleep on me, baby.”

“Sleepy,” Jisung murmurs.

“Let me plug you up and you can sleep while I cook,” Minho says.

“Okay,” Jisung says softly, eyes still closed.

Minho rolls off him. Jisung whines at the loss, but then Minho is lifting one of his legs and sliding the plug in. Jisung moans softly as it sits snugly inside him, legs spasming as it presses into his sensitive prostate. 

Minho presses a kiss to his calf and places his leg back on the bed gently. Jisung flutters his eyes open and pushes himself on his elbows. Minho is wiping his hands clean with a tissue when he looks at him. 

Minho turns to him and smiles. “Doing good?” he asks.

Jisung nods.

“I’m gonna go cook, okay?” Minho says.

Jisung falls on the bed and curls on his side. “Wash your hands,” he mutters before his eyelids go heavy and he falls asleep.

Jisung wakes up with a hand combing through his hair. He blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” Minho murmurs. “Sleep well?”

Jisung stretches his arms in front of him and yawns. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Minho says.

“Mmhm,” Jisung licks his lips. Frowns. “Need to get dressed.”

“One of my shorts okay?” Minho asks.

“Yeah.” Jisung sits up, gasping when something nudges his asshole. His cock twitches. Oh. The plug. “Shit.” he laughs.

“What is it?” Minho says as he rummages through his closet.

“The plug,” Jisung says, rubbing his hands over his face and pulling his cheeks. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Minho says as he walks back to the bed and offers Jisung a pair of shorts. 

“I’ll get used to it?” Jisung huffs in amusement, letting his hands fall in his lap. “You’re literally going to edge me with it, making it impossible for me to get used to it.”

“Mm,” Minho hums. “Get up.”

Jisung groans as crawls out of bed, ass up so as to not disturb the plug. Minho gets on his knees and grabs his foot, sliding the leg of his shorts around it. Does the same with the other and pulls the shorts up, pushing himself to his feet and slapping the waistband against Jisung’s hips. “There,” he says.

“Thanks, hyung.” Jisung grins.

“Dinner?” Minho asks.

“Dinner.” Jisung nods. “Lead the way.”

Minho doesn’t tell him when he’s going to turn on the plug. Jisung braces for it the entire walk to the living room, but nothing comes. He’s wary, though. He can’t let his guard down, but Minho doesn’t do anything, doesn’t take the remote from his pocket—Jisung assumes it’s in his pocket, because it’s nowhere to be seen. Jisung is on the edge, his teeth are aching from the way he keeps gritting them.

Minho leads him to the dining table and Jisung gasps when he sees the food. The chicken looks mouthwatering, evenly coated with sauce and sprinkled with sesame seeds. His stomach rumbles.

Minho laughs. “Come eat.” He pulls out a chair for Jisung.

Jisung eyes him warily but makes his way to the chair and carefully takes a seat, dragging the chair forward. “Fuck,” he spits. “I’m not gonna survive this.”

Minho hums and takes a seat in front of him. Takes the remote from his pocket and sets it on the table. Jisung considers stealing it, but he knows Minho is faster than him. Jisung looks at him. Minho props his chin on his palm and smirks. 

“Dig in,” he says, pushing the dish of chicken towards Jisung. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Jisung asks as he grabs the chopsticks by his plate. 

“Ate while cooking,” Minho says.

Jisung squints. “Did you really?”

Minho laughs. “Eat, Jisung.”

Jisung harrumphs, but reaches for a piece of chicken and, when he’s about to take a bite, he sees Minho reaching for the remote. He braces for it, but the vibration still makes him jolt in his seat with a startled gasp. “Hyung!” he whines, kicking Minho’s leg. 

Minho snickers. “Just testing it.”

“Good thing you didn’t turn it on while I was about to swallow,” Jisung grumbles, his legs spasming as the plug vibrates inside him. He grips the edge of the table with one hand and picks his chicken up with the other. He shoves it in his mouth and moans at the taste.

“This is so goo— ack,” he bucks forward when Minho ups the speed of the plug. “Fuck you,” he spits. Glares at Minho.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Minho chastises.

“You’re such a dick,” Jisung says, leaning back in his seat and gasping as the plug presses deeper. The vibrations are bearable after he gets used to them, but the buzz is still annoying as he eats.

Minho ups to full speed a few minutes later and Jisung almost stabs his throat with the chopsticks. He coughs, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as his body shakes. “Fuck,” he heaves. “Jesus Christ.” 

He tries to control his breathing, but it’s coming out in pants as the plug vibrates. He’s glad it doesn’t reach his prostate, otherwise he’d have already come embarrassingly fast, but it’s a dull ache, he feels like his gut is bruised, tender to the touch. 

Jisung grabs another piece of chicken, but promptly drops it when he feels something press flat to his cock. He looks down and sees Minho’s foot sitting pretty between his legs. 

Oh, no.

“Please, don’t,” he says.

Minho blinks innocently at him. “Colour?” 

Jisung hangs his head. “Green,” he confesses.

“Mm.” Minho puts pressure on Jisung’s cock, making him whine. “Keep eating.”

The pressure on his cock and the vibrations up his ass make Jisung’s entire body tremble. He was right, he’s not going to survive this. He’ll die and go to the ninth circle of hell, or maybe he’s already there, being tortured by a fucking incubus. Minho is a demon and he wants him fucking dead, he’s sure of that as Minho starts rubbing his cock with his foot in torturous little circles. 

Jisung is leaking profusely, he didn’t know a footjob could turn him on, but the more you know and shit like that. He’s about to lose it. 

“Keep eating, Jisung,” Minho says, stepping fully on Jisung’s cock and making him jolt forward with a drawn out moan. Fuck. 

Jisung forgoes the chopsticks entirely, he has no coordination for that when he’s literally being tortured by Minho. He grips his thigh with his free hand, nails biting into his skin as he reaches for a piece of chicken. He can feel sweat beading on his upper lip, can feel it trickle down his temples and into the dip of his neck as he stuffs the chicken in his mouth, biting his finger in the process when Minho kneads his cock with his foot. It feels so good, but it hurts, it’s too much, he’s too sensitive, the plug doesn’t fucking help—vibrating relentlessly inside him.

Jisung can feel precum sliding down his hip as he tries to eat, but he chokes every time Minho presses his foot to his cock. It’s like Minho wants to see him crying, and he is crying, he’s reaching overstimulation. It’s so fucking intense. He’s going to fucking come.

“I’m gonna–” before he can finish his sentence, Minho’s foot disappears and the plug goes back to a slow hum. Jisung sags against the chair, whining feebly at being denied an orgasm when he was so close.

Minho taps Jisung’s foot with his own.

“Get that thing away from me,” Jisung hisses.

Minho bursts into laughter.

“God, you’re so fucking evil,” Jisung gripes. “Who the fuck just puts their foot on someone’s dick when they’re eating? Insane.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” Minho says.

“I was literally horny gripping, but still!” Jisung lets out a drawn out groan. “God, I thought I was gonna die.” He sniffs, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“It’s intense, right?”

“You have no idea,” Jisung breathes out.

Minho grins. “Maybe you can try doing that with me sometime?”

Jisung arches an eyebrow. “You want me to edge you?”

“I torture you, you torture me.” Minho waves the remote around. “Equality.”

Jisung laughs. “I don’t know if I can be as evil as you.”

“You think this is evil?” Minho tilts his head. “I haven’t even started.”

“Please, have mercy,” Jisung whines.

“Mm,” Minho says. “Eat.”

Jisung is scared for his life. “How much more should I eat?”

“Mm.” Minho eyes the plate. There’s still around fifteen pieces of chicken on it. “Seven,” he says.

Jisung can’t eat all that, he refuses to eat all that, he doesn’t know how long that would take. He doesn’t want to come and miss out on the opportunity of having Minho in his oesophagus. He needs to bargain. 

“I went easy on you in the first round,” Minho says.

“Easy?” Jisung scoffs. “You call that easy? Are you trying to kill me?”

Minho just cat-smiles at him. Jisung is about to meet his demise via evil cat guy.

Minho still hasn’t adjusted the speed of the plug, but Jisung is still eyeing him sceptically. Minho waves at him with an innocent little smile. Jisung squints. He still has three chicken pieces to eat. Minho has been nice enough to let him eat in peace, but Jisung has been on high alert the whole time.

Minho tilts his head. “Nice tattoos,” he comments.

“Thanks, designed them myse— fucking hell,” he jolts when the plug suddenly starts going ballistic, buzzing inside him like it wants to get out. Holy shit. His cock twitches, reminding him that he’s been hard this whole time, which is a record for him. “A, hah, warning would’ve been n-nice,” he pants, trying to adjust to the vibrations. 

He squeezes his legs together and shifts, stomach clenching as a spike of pleasure jolts up his spine. His arms are trembling with the buzzing.

“Yeah?” Minho hums. “I don’t think so.” He pushes himself off his chair and rounds it. He stops behind Jisung. Jisung looks up at him with a frown. 

“What are you–oh,” he moans when Minho slides his hand into his shorts and squeezes his cock. “Okay.”

Minho hums, trailing his other hand down Jisung’s collarbone, his chest. He teases a finger around Jisung’s nipple, Jisung’s breath hitching when he pinches it lightly. Okay. Minho decided to be hands on, it’s fine. Jisung is strong, he can do this. 

The vibrations are so fucking distracting, but he’s getting used to them, what he’s not used to is the way Minho is playing with his slit. Sinking his nail into it and making Jisung’s legs shake, making him let out a little whimper. Jisung throws his head back, Minho grabs his throat and squeezes, not enough to cut his airway, but enough to have Jisung moaning like he’s a bitch in heat.

“You like that?” Minho asks, stroking Jisung’s cock slowly. “Colour?”

“Green,” Jisung breathes out obediently. He’s fucking lightheaded.

Minho squeezes his throat again and Jisung closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. Just the mere suggestion of being choked has him on the verge of coming. “Close,” he moans. 

Minho’s hand slides down his cock, squeezes the base of it hard. Jisung whines in protest. “No, let me come. Please, please.” he thrashes, but Minho doesn’t relent.

“No,” Minho says, squeezing his cock harder and making Jisung let out a punted, devastated noise.

“Fuck,” Jisung pants. “Fuck.”

“Colour still green?” Minho asks.

“That was the hottest fucking thing,” Jisung pants, resting the back of his head against Minho’s stomach as he tries to catch his breath. “Fuck.”

“So, green?” Minho presses, thumbing at the hinge of Jisung’s jaw.

“So fucking green,” Jisung says, almost delirious. He flutters his eyes open, a tear trickling down his cheek. Minho wipes it before reaching for his pocket. The vibrations stop completely and Jisung slumps in the chair. “Fuck. I’m discovering so much about myself tonight.”

Minho laughs. “I had a feeling you’d like that,” he says. 

“Any other feelings you’re having?” Jisung asks.

Minho looks down at him. Arches a brow.

Jisung grins at him.

“You pass,” Minho announces.

“Huh?”

“I’ll fuck you,” Minho says.

Jisung perks up. “Really?”

“Yeah, just let me wash the dishes,” Minho says, finally letting go of Jisung’s cock. Huh. Jisung didn’t even notice Minho was still holding it. 

Jisung pouts. “Do you have to?”

Minho just walks away. 

“HEY!”

“Can I take out the plug?” Jisung asks as he walks into the kitchen after recovering himself. 

“Right here?” Minho asks as he washes Jisung’s chopsticks. He places it in the dishrack. “I’ll do it for you, baby.”

“You’re washing the dishes,” Jisung points out.

“Wanna wash the plate for me?” Minho asks. “I can take out the plug that way.”

“You’re just trying to get out of work,” Jisung says, but makes his way towards Minho, hipchecking him to push him away from the sink. Minho snickers as Jisung grabs the plate, moving so he’s standing behind Jisung. Jisung grabs the sponge, squirts some soap into it and starts scrubbing the plate clean. 

Minho runs his hands down his sides, pulls at the waistband of Jisung’s shorts and lets it snap back into his hips before pulling it down so Jisung’s ass is exposed. Jisung hums, rinsing the plate. Minho feels for his hole, Jisung sucks in a breath and releases it when Minho pulls out the plug.

“There,” he says, palming Jisung’s ass as he sets the plug down next to the sink before pulling Jisung’s shorts up.

“That’s nasty,” Jisung says, placing the plate in the dishrack and shaking his hands.

Minho wraps his arms around him and ruts forward. Jisung can feel his bulge press into his ass, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to fight back a moan. Minho is so big.

“How long have you been hard?” Jisung asks.

“Since I grabbed the remote,” Minho says.

“So you enjoy torturing people,” Jisung says, tracing the prominent veins on Minho’s arms. He wants to lick them.

Minho trails a hand down and grabs Jisung’s cock. Oh. Jisung is still hard. “You enjoy being tortured,” he breathes into Jisung’s neck as he squeezes him, punching a hiss out of him. 

Jisung sucks in a breath, lets go and turns in Minho’s arms. “Are you gonna fuck me now?” he asks, tilting his head and widening his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Minho says, smiling sharply. “Have you been good?”

“Please, don’t be a dick,” Jisung pouts.

“You don’t like dick?” Minho asks playfully.

Jisung slaps his arm, making him giggle. “You’re so annoying,” he complains. “Please, fuck me.”

“Right here?”

“I’m prepped and ready,” Jisung says, grinning.

“I’m not fucking you in my kitchen,” Minho says flatly. “I don’t want our first time to be quickie-style. I want to take my time with you.”

“Take me to bed, then,” Jisung says.

Minho purses his lips. 

“Please,” Jisung whines. “I’ve been good, I’ve been so good. You edged me and I didn’t come, I deserve this. Please.”

“Mm,” Minho hums. “I don’t know…”

“Please, hyung,” Jisung says, wrapping his arms around Minho’s shoulders. He pouts, blinks prettily at him. “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Suck your dick a little? Just say the word. I want you in me so fucking bad, I’d do anything.”

Minho smirks. “Anything?”

Jisung nods. “Anything.”

Minho chuckles, cupping Jisung’s cheek and thumbing at his bottom lip. “You’re so desperate, it’s cute.”

“Please,” Jisung begs.

“You want hyung to fuck you?” Minho asks.

“So fucking bad,” Jisung says. “You’ve teased me enough, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Minho says, grabbing under Jisung’s ass and lifting him up like he weighs nothing. Jisung winds his legs around him. His cock twitches as it’s pressed into Minho’s bare stomach. Jisung ruts into it. Minho slaps his ass, making him jump. “Behave. Don’t hump me like a dog, I’ll let you come soon.”

Jisung grumbles but stays still, looking at Minho through his lashes. “Are we gonna just stand here?” he asks.

Minho squints. 

Jisung smiles innocently at him. “What?”

Minho just rolls his eyes and makes his way out of the kitchen.

Jisung is splayed on the bed with Minho hovering over him. He shifts under his intense gaze. Minho is just staring at him. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Minho says. He sits up, pulls Jisung’s shorts down and starts tracing the lines of ink on Jisung’s hip. Goes up, fingertips tickling Jisung’s skin. Jisung shivers. “I didn’t pay attention to your tattoos before. You said you designed them yourself?”

“Yeah, I was a tattoo artist for a while,” Jisung says. “Didn’t really pan out.”

“What do you do now?” Minho asks.

“I’m a producer for an indie record label,” Jisung says. “It isn’t much, but I like it. I can make my own hours and everything.”

“You should let me listen to your music sometime,” Minho says, eyes still following the trail of his fingers over Jisung’s inked skin.

“Ah,” Jisung breathes out when Minho rakes his nails over his side. “Sure.”

Minho hums. He moves so he’s propped on his forearms and leans down to press a kiss to Jisung’s collarbone, lips dragging down so he can lick over the ink on his chest. His long hair tickles Jisung’s skin. Jisung threads his fingers through it and shifts, humming as Minho traces his skin with his tongue. 

“Pretty, so pretty,” Minho whispers as the sheets rustle when he moves down. Bites at the jut of Jisung’s ribcage. Jisung squirms as he feels Minho drag his tongue down his body. 

He isn’t used to this type of attention, no one really has ever taken his time with him, too desperate to get off to even check if Jisung was into it. Minho isn’t desperate, he treats Jisung’s body like it’s holy, brushing his lips over his skin like it’s going to break. His hands palm at his hips, up his sides, his fingers find Jisung’s nipples as he dips his tongue into his navel, making Jisung’s stomach concave. 

Jisung moans when Minho tugs at his nipples. Squirms when Minho bites his stomach. Minho noses at his skin, playing with his nipples and making Jisung’s back arch. 

Jisung’s entire body is on fire. He can feel the blush kiss his cheeks, his neck, his chest.

Minho bites into his hip bone, licks to soothe. Jisung is so hard it makes his head spin a little. He’s dizzy from the attention.

“God,” Minho breathes into his skin. “You make me crazy.”

“Then fuck me,” Jisung breathes out. He’s starting to get impatient. He loves the attention, but he wants to be as close to Minho as possible, wants their bodies to meld together so he doesn’t know where his begin and Minho’s ends. “Please.”

Minho nuzzles Jisung’s cock, making Jisung’s legs close around his head. Fuck. He breathes hot on it, Jisung is so rubbed raw he almost comes. 

“Fuck, hyung,” he moans.

Minho hums, kissing the head of Jisung’s cock.

“Please.” Jisung squirms.

Minho suddenly sits up and Jisung almost screams. He props himself on his elbows and watches as Minho gets up on the bed and shucks off his shorts before kneeling down between Jisung’s legs. 

“You’re so impatient,” Minho says, inching closer and grabbing the waistband of Jisung’s shorts. “So desperate for cock. Lift up your hips,” he commands. 

Jisung does and Minho slides the shorts down his legs. He discards them and presses a kiss to the arch of Jisung’s foot before sliding his hands up. He hooks them under the back of Jisung’s knees and throws Jisung’s legs over his shoulder.

Minho looks down at him like he’s about to pounce. Pupils blown wide. “You’re just a little cockslut, aren’t you?” he teases, making Jisung’s cock twitch.

Jisung knocks his knee against the side of Minho’s head, grumbling, “Shut up.”

“You don’t like that?” Minho asks. “I saw your dick twitch.”

“You didn’t see shit,” Jisung bites back. “Fuck me.”

“Mm,” Minho presses forward, almost bending Jisung in half. “Where’s the lube?”

“I don’t care,” Jisung asks. “Just fuck me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Minho says as he pats the bed. “Aha.” 

Jisung wants to kill him, but he forgets about it when Minho fucks three fingers inside him. The lube squelches when he starts pumping them. Jisung squirms and moans softly, grabbing the sheets and rocking into Minho’s fingers.

“That’s enough,” he breathes out after a moment. “I’m wet enough.”

“There’s no such thing as wet enough,” Minho argues as he thrusts his fingers in and out.

“Hyung, please,” Jisung whines.

“Fine.” Minho pulls his fingers out. “I need a condom.”

“I don’t care, I’m clean,” Jisung says, looking at Minho with wide eyes.

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Are you really gonna trust me like that?”

“You said you haven’t fucked anyone in a while, right?” Jisung asks.

“I could have been lying,” Minho says.

Jisung makes a face. “Were you?” 

“You shouldn’t be so trusting,” Minho says.

“Save the lecture and stick your cock in me, will you?” Jisung says.

Minho bites his bottom lip. “Are you sure?” he asks. 

“A hundred percent,” Jisung says, making his eyes round and pretty. He pouts. “Please?”

“God,” Minho says. “I can’t say no to you.”

Jisung grins. “Come on, hyung. Fuck me, yeah?”

Minho presses closer and Jisung’s breath hitches when he feels the blunt head of Minho’s cock press into his rim. Minho turns his face and starts pressing kisses to Jisung’s thigh as he fucks into him, torturously slow. Jisung’s stomach clenches as he feels it drag inside him, spit pooling under his tongue as his hands clench in the sheets as his hole moulds around Minho’s cock like it was made for it.

Minho bottoms out with a gasp that echoes Jisung’s own. Jisung blinks up at him. Minho rubs his hands down the side of his thighs as he lets him adjust. The stretch is so fucking good, Minho is so big and thick Jisung feels blissfully full. He could just sit here cockwarming him for an hour, but he wants more, he wants Minho pounding into him until he passes out.

“Move,” Jisung says. 

Minho raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Fuck me,” Jisung demands.

“No,” Minho pulls out a little. Jisung’s composure cracks.

“Don’t pull out! No! Please, fuck me!” Jisung begs desperately. “Please, I’ll be good! Please, please.” He’s on the verge of tears.

“Shh,” Minho soothes his hand down the side of Jisung’s thigh as he fucks his cock back into Jisung. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jisung whimpers. God, he’s never been this pathetic in his life. 

“Please,” he whispers.

“Yes, princess,” Minho says as he starts a slow grind. Jisung relaxes into the bed and licks his lips as Minho shifts. Minho’s cock skims his prostate and Jisung stills. 

“There,” he moans.

He claws at the sheets when Minho presses into his prostate with intent. Throws his head back as he grins into it. His legs shake, closing in on Minho’s head as Minho picks up the pace, hands gripping Jisung’s thighs so hard Jisung prays they’ll bruise.

“Harder,” Jisung moans. “Harder, please.”

Minho bends Jisung in half as he fucks him like Jisung just asked. He pounds into him, has Jisung thrashing on the bed every time he hits his prostate, grinds into it before pulling out and fucking back into him in tight, brutal strokes. Jisung isn’t going to fucking last.

“Fuck,” Minho moans. “Close.”

“Come on, come on, come on,” Jisung begs. “Give it to me. Please, fill me up.”

Minho sinks his teeth into Jisung’s thigh, the pressure followed by an overwhelming sting makes Jisung writhe as he comes all over his spasming stomach with a silent moan, entire body shuddering with it, hole clenching around Minho’s cock as it fills him up. 

Before he can register what just happened, he passes the fuck out.

“Shit, shit, shit,” is what Jisung wakes up to.

“Hyung?” he asks, rubbing his left eye and yawning.

“Fuck,” Minho says. “Jisung? Don’t come into the bathroom.” He has a little lisp, like there’s something in his mouth.

Jisung slides out of bed, hissing when the skin of his thigh pulls. He looks down and his eyes widen when he sees two scabbing puncture wounds on the inside of his right thigh. What the fuck? He doesn’t dwell on it, he needs to check on Minho.

He makes his way to the closed door of the bathroom and knocks. “You okay in there?”

“Well,” Minho says. “Define okay?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, but I hurt you,” Minho says.

“You mean the puncture wounds on my thigh?” Jisung asks. “I’m fine. Let me in.”

“No,” Minho says.

“Let me in, Minho,” Jisung says, firmer.

“It’s better if you go,” Minho says.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jisung says. “Not until I can see you’re okay. Open the door.”

“You don’t want to see me,” Minho says.

“Stop being ridiculous, hyung,” Jisung says. “Open the fucking door before I get pissed.”

“Maybe it’s better if you get mad,” Minho argues. “That way you’ll leave.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Jisung says. “Open the door, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’d go if I were you,” Minho says.

Jisung lets out a groan. “You’re not me! Let me in!”

Jisung hears the door unlock. He opens it and steps into the bathroom to see Minho covering his face with his hands.

“What are you hiding?” Jisung asks, inching closer to Minho. “Hyung, come on.”

Minho whines.

“Hyung,” Jisung touches Minho’s hand softly. Minho jumps and backs away, his back hitting the closed shower door. It rattles. “Minho.”

“What?” Minho snaps.

“Let me look at you,” Jisung says, wrapping his hands around Minho’s wrists and pulling at them gently. It’s a suggestion, he knows Minho is stronger than him. “Please.”

Minho lowers his hand, but his mouth is closed tight.

Jisung frowns. “Why were you hiding?” he asks. “I don’t see anything.”

Minho hesitates, looking pained. He seems to consider something. After a moment, he’s baring his teeth for him and Jisung is gasping when he sees fangs. 

“Are those real?” Jisung asks.

Minho gives him a hopeless look.

“Oh,” Jisung says. “Can I touch them?”

Minho’s expression turns baffled. “What?”

“I’ve never seen fangs in real life before.” Jisung smiles sweetly. “Let me touch them, please.”

“You’re not screaming,” Minho says. “And running away.”

“You thought I would?” Jisung asks with a laugh. “Ye of little faith.”

In retrospect, Minho did entertain the vampire talk. But it was such an outlandish thought, there was no reason to entertain it. Now that he thinks about it, it checks out. How strong Minho is, how unrealistically pretty he is, how he didn’t eat anything during dinner. There’s no way someone like him would be human. Not to mention Minho literally sunk his fangs in his thighs during sex, that’s just the icing on the cake. It was staring Jisung right in the face. The fact that vampires exist doesn’t even surprise him. It’s actually… exciting. 

“Hello? I’m a vampire?” Minho says, like that’s gonna make Jisung run for his life.

“I can see that,” Jisung says, smiling.

“You’re supposed to be scared,” Minho says, frowning. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“I’m kinda hard, not gonna lie,” Jisung says.

Minho looks at him like he’s the vampire.

Jisung bursts into giggles. 

“You’re so strange,” Minho says as Jisung laughs.

Jisung wipes a tear from his left eye. “And you’re a vampire.”

“Half,” Minho corrects. “For the next four years.”

“So the talk back at the gym,” Jisung says. “You were being for real.”

Minho nods. “Yeah.”

“Huh,” Jisung says. “That’s hot. Half vampire.”

Minho makes a face.

“Okay, mister half vampire,” Jisung says. “Wanna sit on my dick?” 

He wasn’t lying, he is kind of hard, getting harder by the minute thinking about having a supernatural creature milking an orgasm out of him. They can talk about the logistics of Minho’s vampirism later.

“What the fuck,” Minho breathes out, looking a little faint.

“Is that a no?” Jisung asks.

Minho’s eyes darken. He recomposes fast. Jisung wonders if it has anything to do with the fact he has vampire blood coursing through his veins. “Get on the bed.”

“It’s been a while,” Minho says as he grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand, his fangs are still out so he speaks with an adorable little lisp. “I mean, you don’t really need to prep me that much, pain doesn’t really register to me. It’s more like pressure.”

 “Does it feel good?” Jisung asks, propping himself on his forearms as Minho climbs into bed.

“Yeah,” Minho says as he straddles Jisung’s lap. “It feels really good, so I prefer it if you don’t take your time with me. I mean, I’m riding you, so. You’re only in charge of fingering me.”

Jisung sits up and palms at Minho’s thighs, feeling how thick and solid they are under his touch. “How do you want me to finger you?”

“Like this,” Minho says.

“Are you copying me?” Jisung asks.

Minho bares his teeth at him.

Jisung reaches for Minho’s face. Pokes his fangs. Minho jumps. “What are you doing?”

“Your fangs are still out,” Jisung says.

Minho frowns. “Oh, thank god,” he breathes out, no fangs in sight. “I was trying to retract them for almost fifteen minutes.”

“Is that why you were locked in the bathroom?”

“I didn’t want you to see them,” Minho says, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s neck. “Didn’t want to scare you.”

“I fear I like you too much for anything about you to scare me,” Jisung confesses.

Minho laughs, eyes crinkling. “You just met me.”

“I have a good vibe meter,” Jisung says. “And your vibes? Immaculate.”

“Even though I drink blood?” Minho asks.

“You have a weird diet,” Jisung says. “But it’s okay, I’ve dated a vegan before.”

Minho barks out a laugh. “We’re dating?”

“Well, I know your secret,” Jisung says. “You have no choice but to settle with me.”

“I wouldn’t be settling with you,” Minho says. “I’d be lucky to have you.”

“Awww.” Jisung pokes Minho’s hip. “Gay.”

“Extremely,” Minho nods seriously. “For you.”

“Only for me?” Jisung bats his eyelashes, grinning. “Aren’t I lucky? A supernatural creature is gay for me. Can’t wait to tweet that in my priv.”

“Okay, now you’re getting annoying,” Minho says, but his tone is fond. “Prep me.”

“Give me the lube,” Jisung says.

Minho hands the bottle to him. Jisung takes it and cracks it open before squeezing some in his hand. He sets the bottle next to him and starts rubbing it all over three of his fingers.

“I can take two,” Minho says. “I like the stretch.”

“You said I’m not gonna hurt you, but my brain hasn’t fully processed that yet,” Jisung says. “So let me start with one, for my peace of mind.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Fine, but one doesn’t really do anything, I’ll start demanding more in two seconds flat.”

Jisung hums and reaches behind Minho. He grabs his ass and looks up at him. Minho is staring at him with his bottom lip sucked into his mouth.

“Now that I think about it,” Jisung says as he grabs Minho’s ass and spreads it. He feels for his hole with his other hand, circles lube-sticked fingertips over his rim. “You didn’t kiss me when you fucked me.”

Minho threads his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t want to bite you,” he says. “My fangs pop out when I’m about to come.”

“You bit my thigh, though,” Jisung points out.

“I-” Minho licks his lips. “Well, I got too overwhelmed and I needed to regulate myself, so.”

Jisung’s cock twitches. He groans, letting his head fall on Minho’s shoulder. “That’s so fucking hot.” He teases the tip of his middle finger against Minho’s rim. Dips it inside. Minho’s nails bite into his nape as he laughs. 

“Glad you think so,” he says. “This could’ve gone bad real fast.”

“I love surprises,” Jisung says, pressing a kiss to Minho’s shoulder as he slides his finger inside. He circles it, taps the side of Minho’s wall. “And who the fuck doesn’t want to be bitten by a sexy vampire? I’d be crazy to run away.”

“I think you’re already crazy,” Minho says, grabbing the hair by the back of Jisung’s hair and pulling. He tilts Jisung’s head up and looks at him like he wants to either kiss him or bite him. He settles for the former, Jisung wanted the latter. He whines. Minho laughs. “Why are you whining?”

“Bite me,” Jisung says. 

“Are you asking or being a brat?”

Jisung bats his eyelashes. “What do you think?”

Minho leans down and kisses him again. Tongues at his bottom lip, Jisung drops his mouth open and groans when Minho licks into his mouth. “Finger me,” he whispers against his lips.

Jisung starts pumping his finger inside him as Minho tries to consume him, licking at the back of his teeth, swirling their tongues together before sucking Jisung’s into his mouth. Jisung moans, hand faltering as Minho grinds down on him. “Keep going,” he breathes out.

Jisung’s cock twitches at how breathy Minho’s voice sounds. Minho grabs his wrist and pushes it further inside him. Jisung’s nails sink into his skin as he feels Minho’s warm hole suck his finger all the way inside.

“Be good for hyung and add another, yeah?” Minho says. 

Jisung is weak. He pulls his finger out and fucks two back in. Minho shudders, kissing Jisung’s cupid’s bow before licking into his mouth again. Jisung scissors his fingers, feels Minho’s hole contract around them and almost comes on the spot. He curses, fingers of his other hand digging into Minho’s skin. He’s so tight.

“That’s it, baby,” Minho moans. “Just like that.”

Jisung crooks his fingers and Minho stills for a second before relaxing. “Yeah, right there,” he says, nose bumping against Jisung’s. “Doing so good for hyung, Jisung-ah.”

Jisung isn’t going to survive this. How many times has he thought that today? 

He fucks Minho with his fingers until his hand starts to cramp. “Fuck,” he groans. “My hand.”

“What happened?” Minho asks, pulling back to look at him. He cups the sides of Jisung’s neck. “You okay?”

“Cramp,” Jisung mutters.

Minho looks at him for a second before giggling. “You got a cramp?”

“Haha,” Jisung says flatly. “Hilarious.”

“Pull your fingers out,” Minho says.

“But-”

“I’m not letting you injure yourself while finger-fucking, Jisung.”

“But-“

“No,” Minho grabs Jisung’s wrist and pulls his fingers out of him. He settles them on his ass. “Spread my ass for me, let me do the work.”

Jisung pouts but does as Minho says.

“Good boy,” Minho says.

He grabs the lube, swirls some in his hand, dropping the bottle on the bed before coating his fingers with it. He reaches back, hand knocking against Jisung’s and smearing lube over his knuckles before closing his eyes and gasping. Jisung can’t see what he’s doing, but it’s not hard to guess. 

Jisung watches every single one of Minho’s microexpressions as he fucks himself. Watches him drop his mouth open, his eyebrows twitch every time he hits his prostate. Jisung is so fucking hard he doesn’t know how long he’ll last once Minho sits on his cock.

Minho rocks into his fingers, moaning when he does something right. Jisung wants to watch his hole sucking his fingers in, but watching Minho’s face is better than anything else. Minho wraps his arm around Jisung’s shoulder and bumps their foreheads together as he pants and fucks himself. 

“Ah,” he breathes out. “I’m ready.”

“Please,” Jisung begs.

“So desperate.” Minho chuckles as he kneels over Jisung. “Okay, baby. Lie down for me.” He presses his palm to Jisung’s chest and pushes him down. He braces himself on that hand and reaches for Jisung’s cock. It jumps when he wraps his hand around him. 

“No condom?” Minho asks.

“We’re long past the need for one,” Jisung says. “Considering you probably can’t even catch anything.”

Minho laughs. “Good point.”

He leans back, Jisung’s breath hitches when the head of his cock nudges Minho’s hole. Minho looks down at him. Jisung’s gut clenches at the look on his face, dark and hungry. Minho shifts and lowers himself slowly on Jisung’s cock. Jisung grabs his hips and sinks his nails into them as he feels every ridge of Minho’s hole dragging down his pulsing cock.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Minho moans as he bottoms out. “God, feel so good. Fuck.”

Jisung doesn’t even know if he’s able to say anything. He’s overwhelmed by how tight and warm Minho is. Minho clenches around him and Jisung’s jolts. Fuck. He’s going to die. He’s going to die and Minho isn’t even riding him yet.

Minho sits back and braces his hands on Jisung’s knees as he starts a slow bounce. Jisung pushes himself on his forearms and watches as Minho’s hair falls on his face as he rolls his hips. Minho clenches hard around him and Jisung collapses back on the bed, throwing his head back and gasping.

Minho chuckles, swirling his hips in a way that has Jisung’s legs shaking. His feet are starting to get numb, he’s so fucking close.

“Close,” he breathes out.

Minho hums and squeezes his knees. Jisung props himself on his elbows again and watches Minho’s thighs flex as he rides him. They’re so fucking thick it should be illegal. He pushes himself up into a sitting position with shaky arms and reaches for Minho’s thighs. Palms them and moans as he feels them ripple under his touch.

Minho grabs Jisung’s face as he picks up the pace and kisses him softly, the contrast makes Jisung’s head spin. Minho kisses him loosely as he bounces on it. Jisung wants more. He tries to kiss back harder, but Minho does something with his hips that renders him useless. He bucks forward, moaning pathetically when Minho does it again.

Minho seems pretty much unaffected, bouncing on Jisung’s cock like it’s a stroll in the park. Jisung should be offended, but he’s so close he has no thoughts at all. Head empty. 

“You’re all tense, baby,” Minho says. “Close?”

“So close,” Jisung whimpers.

Minho rolls his hips, clenching around him. “Wanna take the reins?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Wanna be on top of me?”  he pants, hair tickling Jisung’s collarbones. “Fuck me stupid?”

“You’d let me?”

“Of course, baby,” Minho says. “Wanna see what you’re made of.”

Jisung groans and wraps his arms around Minho’s waist. Flips them over so easily he’s sure Minho helped him somehow. He props himself on his elbows on either side of Minho’s head and looks down at him. Minho smiles at him—gorgeous, breathtaking.

Jisung buries his face in his neck and starts fucking Minho like he wants to break him. Minho lets out a startled laugh, but moans when Jisung presses deeper into him.

“There,” he moans.

Jisung grinds into it. Minho’s nails bite into his back as he rolls his hips before pulling out so only the tip is nestled inside before rocking his hips forward in a violent thrust. Minho breathes out a whimper. 

“Filling me up so well,” Minho moans, pawing at Jisung’s shoulder blades. “Fuck, fuck me so well.”

Jisung picks up the pace. He pulls back to watch Minho’s face contort as he fucks him brutally. His thighs are straining from it, but the look on Minho’s face is worth all the fucking effort. 

He rams into him faster. Minho claws at his skin, throwing his head back when Jisung starts hitting his prostate relentlessly. Minho doesn’t cry, but he sobs like he’s crying. Jisung needs to up his game, he shifts and pounds into him until Minho is arching off the bed as he comes. Jisung follows the moment he sees Minho’s fangs pop out, collapsing on top of him and panting.

“You switched up so fast,” Minho says with a laugh.

“Something came over me,” Jisung says. “I’m not usually like that.”

“I’m glad it did,” Minho says.

Jisung snorts. “You also switched up pretty fast.”

“You know how to fuck, what can I say?”

Jisung giggles and pulls out of Minho. He slides out of bed and pads to the bathroom. “Where are your towels?” he yells as he turns on the sink.

“Under the sink,” Minho yells back.

Jisung grabs one and runs it under the warm water before walking back into the bedroom.

Minho is splayed out on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

“You okay in there?” he asks as he climbs into bed.

Minho hums. “No one has ever fucked me like that. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Me neither,” Jisung says as he starts wiping Minho’s stomach. “Guess you bring out the beast in me.”

Minho snorts. “Sure.”

Jisung slaps his stomach. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t be so cringe, then,” Minho says, propping himself on his elbows. 

“Look who’s talking,” Jisung says. “Cringe master.”

Minho bares his fangs at him, making Jisung snicker. “Clean me up,” he says. “There’s cum cooling on my crack.”

“Knees to your chest,” Jisung says.

Minho makes a face.

“Please?” 

He grins and grabs his knees, bringing them to his chest. Jisung groans when he sees his own cum trickling down his hole. He moves, lies down on his stomach and licks at Minho’s hole.

“Ah!” Minho lets out.

Jisung snickers.

“Please, don’t,” Minho says.

Jisung pushes himself up and sits on his haunches. “Boring.”

“Just clean me up,” Minho says.

Jisung presses a kiss to his thigh and starts wiping the cum from his ass. 

“Fangs still out?” he asks.

“I think they only took so long to retract because I tasted your blood,” Minho says.

“Wait, for real?” Jisung asks.

“I don’t know,” Minho says. “But it makes sense.”

“How so?” Jisung circles Minho’s rim with the towel. 

“Long story,” Minho says.

“Come on,” Jisung whines.

“You done?” Minho asks.

Jisung pouts, even though Minho can’t see his face.

“Stop pouting,” Minho says.

“Then tell me,” Jisung says. “Please.”

“Can it be later?” Minho asks. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.”

Jisung sighs as moves out from behind Minho. “Fine.”

Minho lets his legs fall on the bed and props himself on one elbow. He beckons Jisung’s closer. “C’mere.”

Jisung crawls towards him and settles next to him. Minho throws a leg over Jisung’s thighs and hugs his middle. “So comfy.”

“I’m gonna bother you about your fangs when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Okay, baby.” Minho presses a kiss to his face and cuddles closer. Jisung threads his fingers through his hair and breathes in.

Yeah, he can get used to this.

Jisung gasps when a thought hits him a few moments later. “Wait,” he says, looking at Minho with wide eyes. “There’s blood in your protein shake? And the jello? It wasn’t strawberry?!” 

Minho blinks, then bursts into laughter and smothers Jisung with kisses.