theStarlessSky
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“I don’t think I can touch you.” Each word feels like its thrust from Minho's throat; he’s fighting every instinct in a way he’s never had to before. Deranged. “If you let me touch you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop, Sung-ah. We’ll go too far. I feel like I won’t… be reasonable.”
“That’s fine,” Jisung blurts. Minho startles, stares at him. A blush colors his cheeks, but, bravely, Jisung doesn’t break eye contact. “You don’t have to stop then. Just—do what you need to do.”
Minho nearly chokes on his spit. “No, what’s wrong with you? You don’t have to do everything for me."
Jisung huffs. “Who said I’m doing it for you? I’m a willing participant. Ignore the ropes—willing! I don’t want you to stop. You could—you could do whatever you want to me, hyung. Trust me, I’d want it. I’m genuinely worried I might wake up any minute.” He shakes his wrists. “C’mon—limited time here, and you’re kinda, like, falling apart.”
or: Minho gets sick; Jisung is the best medicine.
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Jeongin emerges from his room bleary-eyed to find Jisung catatonic. He gives Jisung a sideways glance.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I told him about my sex life, in detail,” says Minho, smiling sweetly.
Jeongin crinkles his nose. “Ew, hyung. Why would you torture him like that so early in the morning?”
“He asked.”
Jeongin scrunches up his face even more and turns to Jisung. “Ew, hyung. Why would you want to know that?”
When Jisung realizes Minho has been hooking up with other idols in the industry and not him, he decides something must be done.
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"Let me tell you what I want," he says, feeling Jisung shudder under the brush of his lips. "I want you naked and shaking while I take my time eating you out, until your thighs are trembling and you're crying for me to fuck you."
Jisung's breath audibly hitches. His hand white-knuckles the edge of the marble bar top as Minho brushes his lips across the shell of Jisung's ear, the soft curls of his hair tickling Minho's nose. Jisung's scent hits him like heat slamming through an open door. Peaches and citrus, a sugary sweet layer over the powdery florals from before.
Minho feels like he snorted a line of coke.
Or: Minho and Jisung meet at a wedding after parasocially pining for each other through social media. Naturally, sparks fly.
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A garbled, dry laugh bubbles up from his chest.
Yeah, sure. Of course. A wolf finds him, just in time for dinner. He doesn't even have the energy to panic, his body feels like it's dissolving into the dirt. Becoming one with the forest floor.
Death by wolf. So on brand.
The warmth of the wet snout vanishes and, weirdly, Jisung almost misses it. There had been something oddly comforting in the nosing. Gentle, even.
Then someone swears. Human. Soft. Nearly drowned out by the rain. Jisung hadn't heard anyone approach.
"Hey," that someone says, and suddenly there are hands on Jisung's shoulders. Gentle. Firm. "Can you hear me?"
(Or: Jisung is an aspiring producer in a slump, following his best friend out to the countryside for a change of pace. What he finds there might change more than just his perspective.)
Bookmarked by theStarlessSky
01 Jul 2025
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"It's so hot," Jisung complains.
"I should've worn shorts," Minho agrees.
"Yeah." Jisung licks his ice cream. "Don't wear grey sweatpants around me."
Minho looks at him. "Huh?"
Jisung blinks back, the picture of innocence. "Huh?"
or
jisung’s got one big thing on his poor little mind.