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Minho’s phone pings for the hundredth time as he finishes toweling off. Given how he's already incredibly late for their hangout, it’s easy to guess that the messages are from Jisung.
Admittedly, he lost track of time at the gym today. There was no lack of physical activity during his vacation, but there was way too much sleeping in that happened for his trainer’s liking. He’s made a habit of complaining about PT, but he always comes in and delivers anyway. Though a little too much some days, like today.
Minho makes a mental note as he buttons his jeans to pick up a drink for Jisung on the way home. Hopefully, that’ll grant him mercy for his tardiness. Maybe he’ll lose his jacket immediately upon entering the dorm too and casually show off his arms to placate his boyfriend—a tried and tested method. He thanks this morning’s Minho for packing a clean muscle tee.
He finally braves Jisung’s messages as he dries his hair and checks the damage.
jisung: hyung, are you done?
jisung: the food is getting cold!
jisung: i’m hungryyyy
jisung: lee minho where are youuu 😡😭
jisung: i’m going to start eating without you
Minho winces. There’s a 20 minute gap between that last message and the previous one. The lack of a cutesy tone and emojis has Minho chewing on his lip. He adds a chocolate donut to the mental cart of snacks that he’ll bring home. A double chocolate donut. Scratch that—a half dozen triple chocolate donuts.
He’s mapping out which of their favorite cafes he can visit on the way back to the dorm when he scrolls down to see the rest of the messages.
Minho’s thoughts screech to a halt.
“Fuck.”
jisung: [image]
jisung: done!
jisung: [image]
jisung: but you still aren’t home 😤
He clicks on the first one. It’s captured from a low angle with Jisung leaning back on a computer chair, eyes staring straight at the camera. The photo highlights his recently permed hair and his silver hoop earrings which Minho finds so fucking pretty on his already gorgeous boy. There’s a hint of a challenge in Jisung’s slightly raised eyebrows and the lazy way he’s biting a disposable red knife between his teeth and lower lip. It should look ridiculous, posing like that with a takeout utensil, but Minho’s interest is piqued anyway.
That interest grows tenfold when he notices the collar of Jisung’s tee hanging low—positioned as if unintentionally, but Minho knows better—showing off his long neck and collarbones. The urge to bite rushes through Minho. His gums ache with it, longing for him to put his mouth to work. That expanse of skin shouldn’t be left unmarked. They’ve been away from each other for too long and there’s little time left for new bruises to heal.
Minho calms himself. He’s still in public after all. He breathes in long and deep before releasing it. Braces for the next photo. He swipes right and gets all the air left in his lungs punched out of him anyway.
Jisung has switched it up, this time taking a photo from above his head. The perfect angle to make him look exactly like how he does when Minho is towering over him. With bratty, deviant eyes staring up at him through his pretty bangs. He’s almost pouting in this one but Jisung probably opted for a more stern expression.
Minho remembers to unhinge his jaw and unclench his fist. He’s getting hard in the locker room of the gym he regularly visits in the middle of the day because of his boyfriend’s thirst traps. Fantastic.
jisung: i’m sending these to stay
The final message—this threat—was sent eight minutes ago. It should be just enough time for Jisung to give him a chance to finally reply. Minho answers as quickly and as bluntly as possible.
minho: no
Jisung instantly types something back, but a full minute passes of Minho watching the blinking ellipsis before he sends a response.
jisung: took hyung long enough
jisung: i already sent them on bubble though 😋
Minho runs out of the gym, the slippery winter sidewalks of Seoul be damned. He’s arriving home in record time.
The walk home from the gym usually takes 25 minutes. Twenty if Minho isn’t bone-tired from the workout or excited to reward himself with a hearty meal. Today, he arrives at the dorm in seventeen minutes.
He slips past Seungmin as the younger member is just about to enter the apartment. His hand is still on the door handle as Minho drops his winter jacket and duffle bag on the floor, kicks off his boots, and sprints to his bedroom. Seungmin audibly sighs and promptly swings the door shut with him on the side of the corridor.
Jisung is still on Minho’s computer chair, scrolling on his phone when he finally gets to his room. There’s an untouched bag of food on the table and another with empty containers.
“Hyung!” Jisung greets, visibly perking up at the sight of him. Before he can fully grin though, he schools his face back to a neutral expression and flatly says, “Finally.”
“Han Jisung,” Minho starts, ignoring his boyfriend’s attitude. “I ran home. With a hard-on.”
Jisung sneaks a glance at Minho’s crotch to verify and bites the tiniest bit of his bottom lip. So much for being subtle or angry at him. But he tries again when he looks back up at Minho. “I don’t think that’s my problem, hyung.” He shrugs. “Maybe if you weren’t late to lunch…”
Minho huffs through his nose, deciding on which course to take.
It was a bratty move for Jisung to send him those photos while he was in public. Made worse by him also sending them to their fans. Jisung has shared selcas meant for Minho with their fans several times before, but never photos like those. Minho decides if and when to post those.
Still, he was late. So focused on his workout that he didn’t even send Jisung a text as a heads-up. Minho made him wait until he was hungry and left him to eat alone. Jisung always likes to playfully sulk to get what he wants, but Minho was actually a dick this time.
So he walks towards Jisung, taking a hand in his to plant a kiss on his knuckles. With him standing close like this, Jisung is the spitting image of the photo he sent earlier. Minho is still hard in his jeans, but he has to stay focused.
“I’m sorry, baby. I lost track of time,” Minho says in between kisses. “I’ll make sure to send a message next time.”
Jisung is still frowning, but he lets Minho hold his other hand. Allows him to press his lips on his palm. Down to the inside of his wrist. Minho can tell that Jisung isn’t seriously angry with him. All he wants is to be sweetened up and Minho is intent on making him syrupy by the end of this.
“Thank you for the photos,” Minho continues, bending so that his lips can reach the mole on the base of Jisung’s neck. He pulls down the neck of his white shirt even more with one hand and tucks a lock of curly hair behind Jisung’s ear with the other. This new hairstyle on Jisung makes him look unbelievably sweeter. Minho has to document him like this as much as he can.
Jisung starts breathing heavier as Minho kisses up the column of his slim neck, up to the back of his ear. “My thoughtful baby. Always giving me little presents even when I don’t deserve them.”
The angle is awkward and makes his already sore back ache even more. But Minho runs the tip of his tongue along the vacant dip of Jisung’s collarbone and the quiet moan Jisung finally lets out makes the discomfort worth it.
It’s when Minho is sucking bruises onto Jisung’s skin that he reaches for him. Jisung whimpers at the gentle graze of teeth and clutches the hem of Minho’s shirt when Minho bites into his shoulder. Minho pulls away then just to see his face. To see how this apology is treating him.
And it’s treating Jisung rather well.
His cheeks are rosy, glowing from Minho’s attention. The blush competes with the red of his bitten lower lip—a testament to Jisung’s dedication to keeping quiet, to deny Minho the proof of his pleasure. A trail of sweat shines against his temple and it takes everything in Minho not to swoop down and have a taste.
Jisung’s eyes are hungry with a need he won’t voice. Minho thinks that’s fair. Jisung will still get it in the end anyway.
“Look at you.” Minho holds Jisung’s face by the chin, tilting it up for a better view. Enchanted, he says, “Perfect.”
Jisung counters the compliment with a whine and a scowl. One hand still gripping Minho’s shirt, his other moves down to palm at his clothed cock. “Do something,” he demands.
The attitude makes the corner of Minho’s lips twitch as he smiles at Jisung, but he says nothing. Instead, he drops to his knees and pulls Jisung’s hips to the edge of the computer chair.
Jisung continues to work his hand on his cock as Minho pushes up the hem of Jisung’s shorts and kisses along his thighs. They’ve gotten even softer during vacation. Minho’s fingers easily sink gloriously into the flesh. He leaves a souvenir of bruises on each inner thigh and dreams of pressing on them tomorrow.
When Minho tugs down on the waist of Jisung’s shorts, he easily lifts his hips and lets Minho pull off the garment. He’s met with Jisung’s weeping length and wraps his hand around the thick of it.
“Pretty,” Minho sighs, making sure his warm breath hits the head. “Already so hard from just a few kisses on Jisungie’s neck.”
“Hyung,” Jisung calls. A reprimand. But he runs his hands through Minho’s hair, urging his mouth forward, closer to where he needs it. When Minho takes the tip into his mouth, Jisung’s fingers are restless—tugging, pulling, massaging.
The first time Minho sent Jisung a selca with his newly chopped hair over the break, his boyfriend replied an hour later with a voice note of him screaming, immediately followed by every heart-eyed and gushy sticker that he could find on KaTalk. When Minho dropped by unannounced at the studio to a startled Jisung, it only took two seconds for Jisung’s surprise to turn into glee. Jisung literally jumped him, messing up what he could of Minho’s short hair. “You look sooo handsome and manly, hyung-ah,” Jisung praised in between peppering Minho’s face with kisses.
It has grown an inch or two by now, but Jisung seems to be just as obsessed with the cropped style. They should take a selca before his hair gets any longer and before their staff decides they prefer Jisung with shorter hair again.
Jisung’s back arches as Minho runs his tongue up and down his length, getting him wet and messy. Minho teases the tip of Jisung’s cock one more time before taking all of him in, sucking in his cheeks every time he comes up. At a particularly hard suck, Jisung jerks in his seat, almost falling off. Minho adjusts his grip on Jisung’s hip and guides Jisung’s legs to drape on his shoulders to secure him in place—all that with cock still in his mouth.
“Fuuuck, nghh!” Jisung cries, squeezing Minho’s head between his thighs. It’s hot all over, almost suffocating. Minho believes this is the perfect way to die.
He works the tip of his tongue in and around Jisung’s slit when he comes up, savoring how Jisung spasms from the pointed attention. Realizing he hasn’t done so since he started, Minho looks up to meet Jisung’s heavy-lidded eyes. His hands are clutching on the arms of the chair. He’s weak, almost melting into the furniture.
Minho taps him on the thigh, signaling for Jisung to keep his eyes on him, and swallows Jisung’s cock until pubic hair tickles his nose.
“Hyung, I’m— fuck! Hng— AH!” Warm cum shoots down Minho’s throat, making him gag a little at the sudden release. He swallows around Jisung, milking him till the last drop. Once Minho regulates his breathing, he helps himself to shallowly fucking his own throat until Jisung is clawing at his nape and tugging him off.
“Enough, enough,” he pants. “Can’t… anymore.”
Minho wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The skin will be tacky with saliva and cum in a couple of minutes, but Minho doesn’t mind.
Jisung, boneless and spent in his seat, is a completely sinful version of himself from his earlier selca today. A trail of bruises now blooms beautifully on his honeyed skin. Minho’s aching cock throbs in his pants at the image, desperate to be touched. But also desperate to capture Jisung like this.
Minho pulls out his phone from his pocket, waving it in front of Jisung’s face, and asks, “Jisungie. Baby, can I?”
Despite his state, Jisung nods encouragingly. He’s heard that question countless times and grants Minho the privilege of documenting his pleasure more often than not. Minho thanks him each time a thousand times over.
When the photo is taken and the phone pocketed away, Minho helps Jisung sit properly again. Jisung needs a new set of clothes and a good wiping down with a damp towel so Minho ignores the ache in his back and knees when he stands to grab them. Before stepping away, he cups Jisung’s face in both of his hands, thumbs caressing his round cheeks.
“I haven’t kissed you yet,” Minho tells him.
Jisung nods more vigorously now. He’s pouting again when he scolds, “Hyung has been neglectful today.”
Minho presses his lips against Jisung’s in apology. They’re raw from being bitten, so Minho licks along the bottom lip to soothe him. He does this a couple of times with no intention of going further. But Jisung doesn’t seem to think so because he opens his mouth slightly and Minho just chuckles, moving away after a final peck.
“I’m gonna get a towel and clean pajamas,” he says, stepping away.
Before he can turn toward the closet, Jisung grabs Minho by the waist, stopping him in his tracks. “Hey, not yet,” he mutters. Sluggish but determined hands paw at the button and zipper of Minho’s jeans. “Let me—”
Minho covers Jisung’s busy hands with his own, forcing them to be still. Gently, Minho assures him, “Jisung-ah, it’s okay. You don’t have to.” He kisses Jisung on his sweaty forehead for added measure. “I was an asshole today, so you deserve all the attention.”
“But I want to,” Jisung argues firmly.
Minho chuckles at his resolve. “You’re tired, baby.”
I tired you out, he doesn’t say. Jisung looks eager to prove him wrong, but his movements are slow. No fight left in his muscles to free his hands from Minho’s grip.
“But I’ve been wanting to all day,” Jisung groans. His eyebrows are knitted, annoyed at Minho arguing with him about getting sucked off of all things. He scoffs before asking, “You think I’d send you an aerial shot like that if I wasn’t thinking of sucking your dick? You already made me wait for lunch, now you’re making me wait for this too.”
Minho snorts, amused at today’s turn of events. “You really want to?” he confirms.
“Do you want to?” Jisung questions back. “Because I’m starting to think hyung doesn’t want to, and that’s fine, of course. But you should tell—”
Jisung is cut off by the hiss of Minho’s zipper, the pop of his jeans button, and the light thump of the denim as it slides off Minho’s legs and down to the floor. Minho guides Jisung’s face to tilt up, to hold his gaze.
“Knock yourself out, darling,” he offers, smirking at the pleased expression on Jisung’s face.
Jisung immediately hooks his fingers on the garter of Minho’s boxers and pulls it down. He maintains eye contact with Minho the whole time, neither of them willing to break it. Even when his cock springs free and grazes Jisung’s cheek, Minho hisses through his teeth but keeps his gaze steady.
Jisung barely opens his mouth, just enough to let his tongue loll out and the ends of his front teeth to show. He pillows the head of Minho’s cock on his tongue before guiding it fully into his mouth, the girth of it stretching out his lips. Jisung closes his eyes as if savoring the taste. Minho feels himself twitch inside him.
It’s slow as it always is when Jisung is sucking him off. He takes in an inch at a time, taking a deep breath through his nose before going down further on Minho’s cock. He has to be careful no matter how greedy and impatient he is. No amount of training or experience ever lessens his throat’s sensitivity.
Minho is already so close to coming, having been hard since the gym, but he knows how to wait. How to make it good for both of them.
Jisung looks up at Minho again when the head hits the entrance of his throat and maybe Minho is sick for thinking his boyfriend looks adorably sweet like this—his doe eyes huge and his long lashes wet as a cock fills his pretty mouth. He continues to bob his head up and down Minho’s length, not yet pushing himself further. His face is a little tense as he concentrates, bracing himself for the intrusion.
“Haah—you’re doing so good, baby,” Minho praises. He combs Jisung’s damp bangs away from his eyes before loosely keeping his hand on the back of his head. “Always wanna prove that you can take all of me, huh? So greedy, Hannie.”
Jisung whines around Minho’s cock at the words, embarrassed, but they push him to swallow around the tip. His throat is tight, the heat around him searing that Minho’s mouth hangs open as he moans. Minho keeps Jisung there for a few seconds, hand firmly keeping him in place, before letting up. Except Jisung doesn’t come up for air. Jisung breathes heavily through his nose and swallows again. There are stars behind Minho’s eyes now. He can’t hold on much longer.
“Baby, I’m clo—mmmmgh fuck. I’m close,” he pants, tapping on Jisung’s cheek.
Not heeding his warning, Jisung sinks even further and gags, and Minho is left gasping as his orgasm hits him. He pushes Jisung away, afraid of coming directly down his throat, and releases on Jisung’s tongue instead. Jisung gulps as much of the cum as he can, but there’s just too much coming out of Minho. So he finally opens his mouth and lets Minho finish on his slack tongue.
“Baby, breathe,” Minho instructs as he also catches his breath. His legs feel like mush, but he thumbs away the cum on the corner of Jisung’s lips as he takes in lungfuls of air. “Jisung-ah, darling, are you with me?”
Jisung hums in affirmation and finally opens his wet eyes to meet Minho’s concerned ones. He looks even more ruined now. Deliciously debauched. The boy of Minho’s wet dreams.
Minho wants to take another photo but decides against it.
“I’ll be right back,” Minho assures Jisung with a peck on his lips.
He prepares a damp towel and a change of clothes for the both of them as fast as he can, almost tripping on his jeans on the floor. Jisung is helping himself to a bottle of water from Minho’s desk when he comes back.
“Here,” Minho offers after wiping Jisung clean, unfolding the pajamas to help Jisung into them.
“It’s okay. Let me do it. I need to stand. Been sitting for too long.” Jisung snatches the set from Minho before he can argue. He braces himself before standing, but still winces when he rises, “Owww.”
Minho presses his thumbs in circles on Jisung’s lower back as his boyfriend changes into the pajama top. It’s only when he’s shooed away that he dresses himself too.
Once he’s done, Minho browses on Yogiyo as he waits for Jisung. He’s adding a dozen donuts to his cart when he’s hugged from behind, Jisung’s chin hooking over his shoulder.
“What are you doing on your phone?”
Minho raises his phone for Jisung to see the screen better. “Ordering snacks.”
“Wooow,” Jisung bellows into Minho’s ear. “The first thing you wanna do after coming down my throat is to order snacks?”
“They’re for you, stupid.” Minho attempts to shake Jisung off him, but his boyfriend holds on tight. Not that he has to. Minho doesn’t use his full strength to dislodge him anyway. “I was already planning on getting you some on my way home from the gym, but I got… distracted. Went straight home instead.”
“Awww, Hyung-aaah,” Jisung coos, his voice high-pitched and delivery exaggerated. He wraps his arms around Minho, both hands squeezing his biceps. “That’s so sweet. You loveee me.”
Minho sighs as he submits the order.
He does love him.
“Kinda want to blow you again,” Jisung now croons, pawing at Minho’s dick.
Even when he fools around like this. Or especially when.
“Han Jisung,” he answers back, saccharine. “Please let me eat.”