xiea
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Summary
Jisung felt a weird shift the moment he heard those low groans coming from his roommate's bedroom. But things took a truly dizzying turn when he caught a glimpse of Minho's veiny hands through the tiny crack in the door and heard his own name slip from Minho's lips.
“How much longer are you going to stand there?” Minho’s voice cut through the silence like a lightning bolt.
And Jisung knew right then that he was utterly fucked.
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Jisung's dreams have never been his own, always watching someone else's life. Until they're his enemy's, and everything changes.
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Jisung paused. “How are you feeling so far?”
“I like this. All of it. Very very much. I want to put my hand on your leg. And as soon as possible I’d like to make out with you.” Minho’s tone was all business.
Jisung laughed in surprise before his smiling eyes fell back to Minho’s.
“PowerPoint kink, huh? Noted.”
— — —
Han Jisung writes a PowerPoint on how to date. Lee Minho follows every instruction to the letter.
This is a story about two hot nerds that agree to follow a few simple rules and accidentally communicate their way into a healthy relationship.
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Minho opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but Jisung was so scared that his best friend would get punched because of him, and he knew he had to stop it. What can I do? He knew he couldn’t fight Joon; the senior was much bigger than him, and even Minho, who’d done a considerable amount of bulking up while Jisung was living in Malaysia, probably wouldn’t last long against the older boy. Maybe if he took Minho by surprise, it would be enough to prevent a fight. His eyes flicked over his hyung’s face, taking in the anger in his eyes, the rage in the set of his jaw, his pretty lips twisted up in disgust. His pretty lips…
Before he knew what he was doing, Jisung darted forward, grabbed Minho’s cheeks, and kissed him.
OR: To prevent a fight between his bully and his best friend, Jisung takes a drastic measure-- and learns something about himself in the process.
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Jisung’s fingers tightened slightly on the shirt as he literally covered his whole face and breathed the mint in. His lungs filled, slow and deep, like he couldn’t get enough of it. His grip tightened unconsciously, knuckles whitening slightly as he buried his face further into the fabric.
Suddenly, a low, soft vibration in his throat made his eyes blink wide open.
No fucking way.
Had he just purred? Like an animal? Like a fucking cat?
Or Han Jisung has two problems. He still hasn't presented, and he's hopelessly in love with his best friend.