Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What about you, Sung?” 

Jisung blinks, snapping out of his mini haze. He’s more than a little buzzed by now, the soju shots he’d taken over the course of the night starting to take effect. 

They don’t drink that often. Most of them are lightweights (cough, Hyunjin, cough) and because they’re always busy, they don’t have the luxury of free time to sleep off any hangovers. Tonight is special though. Tomorrow they get a free day to themselves for the first time after weeks of grind without end, and of course they had to dust off the abandoned bottles of alcohol from the back of the cabinets and celebrate. Chan insisted, going on about bonding and growing closer with the team by playing games and relaxing.

After a couple shots, Jisung feels relaxed. Too relaxed. 

“What about me?” he asks, trying to locate the source of the voice that had asked him.

Hyunjin blinks back at him, face flushed a pretty pink and eyes slightly glassy. He always gets easily drunk anytime they drink. He’s actually quite cute like this, mumbling flirty things without realizing how flirty they sound and getting even more handsy than he is sober. 

“Truth or dare?”

Jisung hums, deciding its best not to pick dare from someone so drunk. The last person who picked dare had to drink forgotten milk from the back of the fridge. Felix still looks pale from his choice.

“Truth.”

“Best sex you ever had?” 

Hyunjin also has zero sense of boundaries when he’s like this. 

It’s not like boundaries really exist anymore between any of them, lines had started to blur a long time ago. Privacy is a luxury living with seven other men, and they all know each other’s most personal secrets, deepest fears after years spent living with each other, seeing each other at their best and their worst. They all like to call each other soulmates with how close they’ve all gotten, how seamlessly they all seem to ebb and flow together. Like the universe meant for them to come together.

Jisung however, does like to keep some things to himself.

He looks down at his coke, absentmindedly watching the fizz. “Um...pass.”

“Nope,” Hyunjin shakes his head with a giggle. “You already used your last one when I asked the last person you jacked it to.”

“Maybe if you stopped asking questions like that,” Seungmin says under his breath, but loud enough to reach them all anyways.

“No more drinks for Hyunjin,” Jeongin declares, plucking the cup from the dancer’s hands. Hyunjin whines and makes grabby hands but doesn’t make it very far, his limbs a tangled, drunken mess. 

“Can you at least answer the question?” Hyunjin pouts at Jisung.

Jisung focuses harder on his drink. “No thanks.”

“What about the last question? You can’t pass more than once.”

Jisung grits his teeth. “Hyunjin I am not answering who I last fantasized about when I got off.”

“Why? Was it one of us?” Hyunjin gasps, voice falling to a whisper, “Was it me?”

Jisung chortles into his cup, taking a sip. “Nope. That was before the last time.”

“Come on, just answer one of them,” Changbin weakly throws a napkin at him. “We all have had to answer at least one of Hyunjin’s weird and invasive questions. It’s your turn.”

Jisung weighs his options, nervous energy boiling in the pits of his stomach. He’s definitely not sharing the last person he fantasized about. Not when said person is in the room, staring at him with too keen eyes, ever the observer. But the best sex he ever had? Well, Jisung can’t answer that at all. 

Which is more embarrassing, admitting to a room full of grown men that he’s never had sex, or admitting that he’s gotten off to the thought of one of them? It’s a lose–lose, pick your poison situation. 

“Can’t I just take a shot or something?” Jisung pleads. 

“You’ve barely answered anything,” Hyunjin whines. “Not even Felix’s dumb questions.”

“My questions aren’t dumb,” Felix pouts.

Seungmin pats his shoulder. “They were a little dumb.”

Hyunjin continues, “We’re supposed to be bonding.”

"No offense but my idea of bonding doesn’t include sharing my sex life,” Jisung forces out a laugh. 

“You’ve always seemed like the type of person to brag about it,” Jeongin chides in from the side. “You brag about the one time like four years ago when I kissed you on the cheek, but won’t brag about sex? Who are you?”

“Well, I–"

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Jisung brag about anything more than kissing,” Felix adds. 

“But that’s because–"

Chan sighs. “Guys, come on, maybe he’s just shy, we shouldn’t press if he doesn’t want to share an experience like that–"

“Oh my fucking god, I’ve never had sex!” Jisung blurts, hand slamming on the table.

Seven pairs of eyes stare at him in shock. They all look around at each other, clearly not expecting that answer.

Changbin stutters, “Well, that’s, er–"

“That’s fine!” Hyunjin chirps, not catching the change in atmosphere. “I’ll take it as an answer for the best sex thing. Who’s next?”

Nobody says anything, still processing Jisung’s confession. Jisung buries his face into his hands, cheeks burning in shame. He never wanted to admit it, at least not like this. 

“Um, I think that’s enough for game night,” Chan’s voice carries over. “We’ve all had enough to drink, especially Hyunjin, so why don’t we all settle down. Maybe watch a movie or something. Or turn in.”

Everyone starts murmuring and moving around him and Jisung slowly raises his head from his hands. He can tell everyone’s trying not to look at him, trying not to make a big deal out of it. But the fact that they’re moving on from it just makes it worse. He doesn’t want to be pitied or babied. 

What’s the big deal? So what, he hasn’t had sex? It’s not like he has the time or privacy. He’s an idol for god’s sake. He puts his blood, sweat and tears into his work. He’s never been worried about sex or dating or any of that, not when he has a role to fill. 

Of course he’s thought about it. Of course he wants to. It’s just not possible right now.

He hates the awkward tension hanging over them all now, everyone trying to skip over the whole ordeal and give Jisung some space. He practically suffocates in the atmosphere and decides to turn in for the night. 

He pads into his room and throws himself on the bed, pressing his face into the pillow. He lays there for a moment, contemplating suffocating himself, before opting to scream into it instead.

“Well, don’t ruin that pretty voice of yours, Hannie.”

Jisung jolts and pushes himself up on his hands, whipping his head toward the door. Minho stands in the doorway, hand still on the knob, watching him with an amused expression.

In any other situation, Jisung would be comforted. He’d let Minho crawl into his bed and hold him in his arms and cuddle him until he sleeps away whatever’s bothering him.

But right now? Minho is the last person Jisung wants to see.

Jisung rests his head back down on the pillow, this time on his cheek so he can still talk, but facing away from Minho, hiding from his too knowing gaze. He’s always able to read Jisung’s mind at an eerily accurate level, and Jisung does not need his mind read right now.

“Hyung,” he groans, not wanting to face him.

He hears Minho’s soft footsteps approach the bed before the mattress dips. Jisung sighs and rolls onto his back, casting a glance Minho’s way, finding his soft, feline eyes blinking back wordlessly.

“It’s not that bad, you know,” Minho offers.

Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, hands coming back up to his face as it heats up all over again. “It is. I’m twenty-two years old and I’ve never had sex.”

He can hear Minho’s eye roll. “You know that’s not like, a rare thing, right? Plenty of people wait until they’re older or for marriage or whatever. Sex isn’t everything.”

“But everyone else in the group has!” Jisung whines, dropping his hands from his face and staring at the ceiling. 

“Like I said–" Minho pokes his side, eliciting a shocked laugh from the younger. “–Sex isn’t everything. Nobody cares if you haven’t done it. They’ll all forget about it by tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” Jisung mutters. “It’s humiliating, hyung.”

“It really isn’t.”

“You wouldn’t know. You’ve had sex before,” Jisung sighs. 

"And would you care if I hadn’t?” Minho counters.

Jisung pauses at that. Of course he wouldn’t. Minho is still... Minho. His best friend, his soulmate. The moon to his sun. Someone who cares for him even when Jisung doesn’t ask for it. Someone who knows Jisung better than he knows himself. Whether he’s had sex or not doesn’t define him at all. 

“...No,” he says eventually.

Minho squints down at him. “That was a long pause.”

“I was surprised!” 

“Hmm. Alright.” Minho suddenly shifts, lying down beside him on his side, facing him. “Seriously, jagi-ya. Don’t worry about it so much. You know they won’t judge you for something like that.”

“I know. It’s just...a little sad. And maybe disappointing?” Jisung hesitates before continuing, “Like…I want to have sex. I just...can’t?” He smacks a hand over his face again. “Ugh. Nevermind.”

“Why can’t you?” Minho prompts.

"No time,” Jisung mutters. “And I wouldn’t even know where to start. Who would want to have sex with me?”

His insecurities are starting to bleed through, it’s painfully obvious. As much as his body desires it, sex is a scary concept to him. He wants to have sex with someone he trusts. But who is someone he fully trusts that also wants to have sex with him? 

Definitely not the one person he craves that sort of closeness with. The one person whose name he’s had to muffle through his fingers in the shower, hand wrapped around himself. The one person he’d give his entire being to in a heartbeat. He would never look at Jisung like that. 

Minho reaches forward and runs a hand through Jisung's hair, scratching his scalp in a gentle and soothing way that has Jisung’s eyes fluttering shut. A small sigh escapes past his lips, body going lax.

“So many people would line up at the opportunity to have sex with the Han Jisung of Stray Kids,” Minho says in a serious voice. “Singer. Rapper. Dancer. Producer. All-rounder. Ace.”

At every one of Minho’s words, Jisung releases a giggle. “Shut up.”

Sure, plenty of people might line up. Just not the one person who matters.

Minho chuckles softly. “Don’t worry so much about it now, Hannie-ya. One day it’ll happen, you don’t need to rush it.”

“I know.”

They lapse into comfortable silence, Minho continuing to gently pet Jisung’s hair. 

“Are you actually going to sleep now?” Minho murmurs after a few minutes.

“Mmm. Probably.” Jisung wants to sleep and forget all the events of tonight, lose himself in a little dreamworld far away from reality. And Minho feels really nice cuddled up in his space. “You’re warm.”

Minho chuckles, pulling Jisung closer and tangling their legs together, bodies intertwined. “You’re warm too.” 

He plants a kiss against Jisung’s scalp, Jisung's face heating at the gentle action. Minho’s warmth cradles him, wrapping him in a little cocoon of security. 

Far sooner than he would’ve liked, he finds his eyes slipping shut, lulled to sleep in Minho’s arms.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Jisung wakes to a finger poking his cheek. He ignores it at first, frowning and burrowing his face deeper into the warmth beneath him. The finger persists, poking his cheek over and over until he whines and raises his head. He glares at Minho, and the elder meets his gaze with a raised eyebrow. Jisung is aware he looks like a mess right now, conscious of the drool drying on his cheek and messy hair falling into his eyes, but doesn’t care all that much after being disturbed from peaceful sleep.

“What?” he mutters, voice hoarse from disuse.

“You're drooling on my shirt,” Minho deadpans.

Jisung looks down and grimaces when he sees the drool pooling on Minho’s shirt. “Oh. Ew.” Minho rolls his eyes and sits up on his elbows, pausing when Jisung winces. “Ah. My neck.”

Minho tips his head. “What’s wrong with it?”

"You probably crushed it,” Jisung mumbles, reaching back and rubbing his nape. 

“Keep talking and I’ll sit on it.” Jisung shoots him a glare and slowly gets up, eye twitching at the stiffness in his neck. “You probably just fell asleep at an awkward angle,” Minho sniffs, trying to sound indifferent but eyeing him with mild concern.

“I guess.” Jisung shrugs it off. 

“What’s the plan for your big day off, then?” Minho asks. “Are you going to drool on me some more?”

“I really don’t feel like going anywhere,” Jisung admits, ignoring his hyung’s persistent teasing. “My battery feels low. I need a real day off.”

Minho stretches, face scrunching cutely as his joints pop into place. “Mmm. Okay. Sounds like a plan."

Jisung's lips twitch. "What, you're joining me?"

"Of course," Minho says like it's obvious. As if he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. "After I get breakfast."

“Get me something?” Jisung pleads, jutting his bottom lip out.

Minho barely spares him a glance. “No.”

As he says it, he’s already starting to make his way off the bed, presumably to get himself (and Jisung) something. Jisung watches him pad out of the room before deciding to get up himself. Even though he knows Minho will cave and bring him something, he trails behind him just to be sure. 

“You’re like a lost kitty,” Minho mutters without looking back at him. 

"I want breakfast.”

“Your legs clearly work, get it yourself.”

Jisung doesn’t respond, quietly following Minho into the kitchen. Without saying a word, Minho begins pulling out bowls and a box of cereal. Jisung lights up when he takes a yogurt out of the fridge, specifically the strawberry one, which Jisung really likes. Minho pours two bowls of cereal with milk and silently hands one to Jisung. 

"What about the yogurt?” Jisung asks, eyeing Minho when he starts walking to the table with it.

"Oh, this?” Minho waves the yogurt. “This one’s mine.”

Jisung watches him open the yogurt and take a big scoop, following the spoon into Minho’s mouth. He doesn’t eat any more yogurt after that, switching back to his cereal. 

They eat in mostly silence, only interrupted by other members passing through, getting ready for the day. Oftentimes they don’t have to speak, they simply enjoy each other's presence, understanding passing between them rather than words. Comfort fills the silence in place.

When they finish their cereal, Minho stands and slides the yogurt over to Jisung. Jisung beams at him, catching Minho’s fond eyes resting on him before he quickly looks away, feigning disinterest. 

By the time Jisung finishes his yogurt, brushes his teeth, and returns to his room, Minho is already sitting on his bed. He can’t say he’s shocked, and he welcomes Minho’s presence without a second thought. 

He sits on the bed beside Minho, leaning into his side and mumbling, “Thanks for the yogurt.”

Minho sniffs. “Only gave it to you because I didn’t want it anymore.”

Jisung merely smiles, understanding Minho’s indifferent behavior by now. “Whatever you say, hyung.”

He squirms a little as he tries to get comfortable by Minho’s side. His neck is still bothering him, and laying his neck on Minho’s shoulder isn’t entirely helping. He sits up and tries to crack his neck, hissing when he’s met with a sharp pain instead.

Minho looks over at him, looking a bit concerned. “Did you hurt your neck during practice or something?”

Jisung huffs, “I don’t think so. It wasn’t hurting yesterday. It’s probably just stiff from everything we’ve been working on lately.”

“Ah.” Minho is quiet for a moment, pondering. “Do you want hyung to give you a massage?”

Jisung tips his head. “I don’t think my neck hurts that bad…”

“Maybe not, but if it’s stiff from being overworked you probably have a lot of tension that needs to be let out,” Minho explains. Then, he takes Jisung’s wrist and starts tugging at him. “Come here.”

Jisung finds himself being pulled in between Minho’s legs, his encasing Jisung's waist. He blinks a little, praying Minho can’t see the redness he’s sure finds its way to his ears. Minho’s hands come up to his shoulders, half clasping around his neck, and Jisung doesn’t get any warning before the heels of Minho’s palms are digging into his skin.

He makes a strangled noise, jerking a little in Minho’s grip. Minho’s hands hold him in place. “Hold still, jagi-ya.”

Jisung tries, he really does, but Minho’s hands start working out the stiffness in his neck, tension he hadn’t even realized had built up bleeding out of his tired body. Minho’s thumbs press against the base of his skull and the small headache Jisung hadn’t even realized he’d woken up with starts to dissipate. He sighs, his head falling back and to the side, going limp in Minho’s hands.

Minho’s hands slowly start to move, sliding down to the curves of Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung is too relaxed in his hold, doesn’t think to prepare himself before Minho is pressing down on a particularly sore spot just beneath his neck. The moan he lets out is embarrassingly loud, his cheeks flooding with heat as soon as the sound escapes him. His head snaps upright and he quickly clamps his mouth shut, swallowing down the sound and stiffening in Minho’s hold.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, hoping Minho doesn’t think he’s weird or something. 

If Minho finds his outburst strange, he doesn’t show it, merely responding to Jisung’s apology with a hum and continuing his ministrations. Jisung sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, swallowing down every noise that threatens to escape as Minho’s hands press into him a little bit harder, working out all the soreness he can find. 

Just when Jisung relaxes against him again, neck feeling much better and looser than before, Minho’s hands travel to focus on his shoulders instead. He doesn’t realize there’s built up tension in his shoulders until Minho’s hands firmly press into them, barely constrained whimpers starting to become a little more audible in Jisung’s throat. 

Minho presses down on a knot beside his shoulder blade, a mixture of pain and something else etching into Jisung’s skin. He cries out, hands coming to grasp at Minho’s thighs around him.

Minho hesitates, hand lingering just above the knot. Then, he presses into it again, harder this time. Jisung’s head falls back into Minho’s shoulder, another embarrassing noise escaping him and a shiver wracking his body. He barely registers his fingers digging into Minho’s thighs, holding onto him like a lifeline.

“You’re really tense,” Minho whispers, sounding a little breathless. Jisung squirms, unable to respond save for a muted whimper. He feels a familiar heat curling deep in his gut and closes his eyes, willing it down as much as he can. “...Why don’t you lie on your stomach for me?” Minho asks quietly, hands stilling. “So I can reach you a little better.”

It makes sense, given how Jisung has completely fallen back, limp against Minho’s chest, squishing Minho’s arms between them. At the same time, the idea of being under Minho, giving him full reign of the expanse of his back, makes his head spin. 

Weakly, he finds himself nodding, scooching forward and lying on his stomach, pressing his face into a pillow. He feels the bed shift and a weight presses down on the lower end of his back, Minho sitting on top of him. Minho’s hands hover over his back, and Jisung’s breath catches when his fingers slip just barely under the fabric of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?” Minho asks. “It’ll help.”

Yeah, help drive Jisung even more insane. But once again, he nods, lifting himself up on his elbows so Minho can tug it off. Once the layer of clothing is gone, Minho’s hands are back on him, but this time, skin meets skin, his hands warm against Jisung. 

His lips part in a silent gasp as Minho’s hands start working at the knot again. He grits his teeth when Minho doesn’t let up, pressing harder and harder down into it, thumbs digging circles into his back. It’s like he’s trying to coax more sounds from Jisung, and slowly but surely, it’s starting to work. Jisung presses his face into the pillow and whimpers into it until the knot is finally gone, his muscles relaxing.

Just when he thinks he’s safe, Minho’s hands continue their journey down and across his back. He presses against random spots, no clear destination in his path, but it’s obvious he’s searching. He seems to find what he’s looking for when he presses down on another knot and Jisung cries out into the pillow, the heat in his stomach tangling into something unbearable. 

Minho’s thumbs press down hard into his skin, and that pain-pleasure mixture has Jisung shuddering and moaning all over again. This knot is undeniably worse, built up over months and months of practice. Jisung’s hands curl and pull at the sheets, writhing as much as he can with Minho’s weight still seated on top of him. 

In a moment of horror, he starts to feel his pants tighten, cock hardening where it's trapped between him and the mattress. The friction from his movements works him up to full hardness, more moans spilling past his lips before he can even stop himself.

“Hyung–” Jisung gasps out. 

Minho’s hands pause, then slide up his back noncommittally. “Hmm?”

Jisung struggles to find the words. How does he admit to his best friend that he’s fully hard underneath him from a back massage? 

“I–"

“Do you want me to stop?” Minho suddenly asks, hands stilling. 

There’s a tilt to his voice, a certain underlayer Jisung swears he isn’t imagining. Jisung silently wonders if he’s asking something else.

“...Do you want to stop?”

Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Don’t you think I would’ve before you’ve been moaning and squirming under me for the past five minutes?”

Oh. So Jisung wasn’t imagining the knowing tilt to his voice. 

“I…” Jisung trails off, still unsure. 

Minho’s fingertips draw soothing patterns into his back, reassuring him. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” 

There’s a brief moment of hesitation, Jisung debating whether or not he wants to cross this line with his best friend. They’ve always had a bit of a strange relationship, but this is something else entirely, this is leaping over the lines they’ve drawn over the years, even if those lines have sometimes gotten blurred. After the conversation from last night, Minho is aware of Jisung’s inexperience, and still is here, undeterred. Willing to be Jisung’s first.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Jisung quietly admits.

Minho’s hands gently come to grip Jisung’s hips, pressing him down into the mattress, pulling a shocked gasp from Jisung’s lips. Minho is so much stronger than him, easily pushing Jisung down. “I don’t want you to stop either.”

Shit. 

Guided by Minho, Jisung experimentally ruts down into the mattress, quietly moaning out. It’s better than the slight friction he was getting just from squirming around, more pointed and rougher. Minho's hands keep pushing, coaxing his hips down again and again. 

“Fuck,” Jisung whispers as Minho sets a steady rhythm. “Hyung.”

“You’re so sensitive.” There’s a smile in Minho’s voice. 

Jisung’s face warms and he squirms a little. “I’m a sad, pathetic virgin, remember?”

Minho hums. “It’s adorable. You get off just from a little back massage.”

Jisung’s cock twitches under his stomach, and a small whimper escapes him. “J-Just a little back massage? You were going hard on me on purpose.”

There’s warmth pressing against his back where Minho leans down, his breath brushing against Jisung’s neck. 

“You think I’m going hard on you?” Minho murmurs lowly into his ear. Jisung’s breath catches. Minho chuckles darkly, “You have no idea just how badly I could ruin you, Jisungie.”

Jisung whimpers, hips canting down into the mattress, chasing the friction. “Hyung...Please…”

Minho hums, lips grazing the back of Jisung’s neck. “Mmm. Maybe one day. For now I think you could easily get off just like this.”

Jisung could so easily cum just like this. Minho hasn’t even laid a hand on him–at least not where he’s aching to be touched–and he already feels like he’s bursting at the seams. He wants to be touched, he wants to be touched so badly, but he’s unsure if he could even face Minho like this. 

He doesn’t respond, embarrassed by the ideas of either facing Minho, or cumming just like this, completely untouched. Instead, he continues to grind into the mattress, Minho’s hands pressing into the skin of his back.

Minho idly drags his blunt nails across his skin, causing Jisung to shudder. Minho pauses for a moment and Jisung can hear the gears in his head turning before Minho is scratching him again, harder this time. Jisung gasps in shock, his skin singing in dull pain before it melts into a soft heat. Spurred on by his reaction, Minho continues, keeping one hand on Jisung’s hip to guide him down, while the other drags its nails across Jisung’s back. 

“M-Minho-hyung.” Jisung writhes, hips bucking faster. “Please.”

“Hmm? What do you want?” Minho asks, a soft tilt in his voice that Jisung isn’t sure is mocking or not.

Jisung swallows. “Harder.”

That incites soft, condescending laughter from above. “Harder?” 

Minho hums thoughtfully then obliges, nails digging in deeper, carving deep indents into Jisung’s back. Jisung sobs into the pillow, arching up into Minho’s touch. Flames ignite wherever Minho’s nails roam, and he can feel the red marks forming all across his back. Somehow the image of his back littered with scratches, proof of Minho’s presence, pushes him closer to the edge.

“This is interesting,” Minho murmurs, lips still pressed to Jisung’s nape. “Never took you to be one to get off on pain.” Jisung just moans, hips faltering in their rhythm as he gets closer and closer to the edge. “Close?”

Jisung nods as best as he can. “Yeah.”

“Cute,” Minho giggles, actually fucking giggles as if Jisung isn’t falling apart underneath him. 

Jisung’s whines and moans get louder and louder, and soon enough he snaps, back arching and hands clawing at the sheets as he cums. His head lifts off the pillow, desperate to breathe, moans unrestrained now. 

Before he can think to snap his mouth shut, a hand is clasping itself over it, pressing back into his skin and muffling his moans. Jisung whimpers into Minho’s hand, hips stuttering.

“As pretty as you sound,” Minho says into his ear, hand tightening. “Some of the others are home. Can’t have them hearing you like this, can we?”

 Jisung doesn’t respond–can’t respond with the hand pressed against his mouth. He pretends he isn’t imagining the possessive tilt to Minho’s words and basks in them. 

He rides out his orgasm until his hips are finally slowing, body going lax into the sheets. Minho’s hand pulls away from his mouth and he sits up, hands coming to rub soothing patterns into his back instead.

"You okay, jagi-ya?” Minho asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Jisung sighs, lying his cheek on the pillow. “I’m great.”

Minho subtly shifts above him, and Jisung inhales sharply. That’s Minho’s dick pressing into the curve of his lower back, hard. Hard because of him.

Minho seems to realize his mistake of the shift in his position, and lifts himself up, completely taking his weight off Jisung.

Jisung lifts himself up on shaky elbows and turns back to look at him. “Hyung-ah.”

There’s a blush creeping up Minho’s neck and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights. “Sorry.”

“I can–I can help,” Jisung finds himself offering. “If you want.”

Minho looks at him for a moment. “You really don’t have to. I know that you’ve never…” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence, doesn’t have to.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never done whatever just happened before either,” Jisung lets out a small laugh. 

Right. Whatever just happened.

"...Okay,” Minho caves after a moment, slowly nodding. 

Jisung turns over, lying on his back under Minho before pausing. He doesn’t really know what to do now, and it seems neither does Minho. They stare at each other for a moment before Jisung hesitantly sits up and reaches forward, fingers coming to the waistband of Minho’s pants. 

“Can I?” he asks shyly.

Minho nods wordlessly, shifting a little so he’s hovering just above Jisung’s lap. Jisung swallows thickly before tugging Minho’s shorts and boxers down, freeing him of their confines. Minho takes them down the rest of the way, pulling them off and tossing them to be forgotten somewhere. Jisung pauses a little when he’s faced with Minho’s cock, red at the tip and leaking. He can’t believe he is the one affecting Minho like this. 

“You don’t–" Minho cuts in, voice strained. “You really don’t have to, Sung.”

Jisung blinks up at him before timidly wrapping a hand around the base, heart stuttering when he hears Minho inhale sharply. 

“I want to.”

God, he really wants to.

He starts to move his hand, then frowns and retracts it, spitting into it before taking Minho again. Minho shudders above him, breath starting to stutter and hitch as Jisung moves his hand again, the spit smoothening the glide. Minho props his hands onto Jisung’s shoulders, fingers digging into the bare flesh.

Jisung’s never given a hand job before, but he thinks he gets the gist of it, having gotten himself off plenty of times. He starts off slow, trying to get a feel for Minho and what he likes. He thumbs over the head, holding back a triumphant smile when Minho’s hips jerk forward and he quietly gasps. He focuses on the head, using his thumb and forefinger to give it little jerks. 

Minho makes a strangled noise and Jisung looks up, startled. Minho’s eyes are darker than normal, irises nearly black as he looks down at Jisung. His teeth are working at his bottom lip, barely containing the little whimpers starting to come out. Jisung looks back down and tightens his fist, moving it faster. He watches in fascination as Minho leaks more precum onto his fingers, his thighs quivering. 

Jisung’s eyes are drawn to Minho’s thighs like a moth to a flame. He’s seen them plenty of times of course, but he’s never seen them shake like this. Minho is so strong, his thighs never seeming to falter when tasked. He figures it’s because Minho is trying to fight himself from thrusting into Jisung’s hand, which Jisung doesn’t entirely understand.

When Jisung’s hand moves faster, thumbing over Minho’s leaking slit again, Minho lets out a high pitched moan that sounds more like a whimper than anything. Jisung’s eyes round as he peers up at Minho in wonder. Minho’s head is starting to fall back, eyelashes fluttering and neck snapping back forward as if catching himself. Jisung’s never seen Minho like this, the walls he usually has built up crumbling down by Jisung’s doing. 

Minho’s hips start to stutter forward into Jisung’s hand on their own, more little whines escaping him. His lips are raw from where his teeth have gnawed into them, and he suddenly raises a hand pressing his fingers to his lips. Jisung’s eyes widen even further, believing for a moment that Minho is about to push his own fingers into his mouth. But Minho’s eyes open long enough to catch Jisung staring up at him and he turns a bright shade of red. He pulls his fingers from where they’d started to creep past his lips. When he places his hand back on Jisung’s shoulder, Jisung blinks when he feels Minho’s saliva against his skin.

“I’m sensitive?” Jisung can’t help but tease, flicking his wrist faster.

Minho makes another strangled noise and moves forward to press his face into Jisung’s neck, hips thrusting into his hand without restraint this time. 

“Shut up,” Minho somehow manages to hiss, but his voice is a mess, more vulnerable than Jisung’s ever heard.

Jisung’s hand finds its way to one of Minho’s trembling thighs, squeezing the soft flesh of it. Minho thighs twitch, flexing and hardening in Jisung’s hold with each thrust of his hips into Jisung’s fist. 

“Shit,” Jisung whispers, his hand running up and down Minho’s thigh, admiring the strength and fluidity he can feel coursing through it. 

He’s always admired Minho’s body, from a distance of course. He’s never had the privilege to see it like this, to touch and hold Minho like this. He’s always been beautiful, but he’s especially beautiful like this. Jisung’s eyes hungrily drink in every inch of softly tanned skin he can find, watching Minho’s body move in tangent with him.

He palms the head of Minho’s cock against his stomach, smiling when Minho’s body jerks and he whines high in Jisung’s ear. Jisung pulls back a little, brushing his nose along Minho’s cheek as he tries to catch a glimpse of Minho’s face. He’s met with flushed skin and wide, doe-like eyes. Despite their innocent appearance, Jisung doesn’t miss the darkness gleaming behind his irises.

“Pretty,” Jisung murmurs without much thought. 

Minho exhales shakily. Jisung starts a little when he feels Minho’s breath tickling his lips, eyes flickering down and realizing oh Minho is very close right now. It all felt so natural at first, to brush their noses against each other and lean his forehead against Minho’s. Now, all he can think about is how close Minho is, and how awfully kissable his lips look. 

Jisung tears his eyes from Minho’s mouth to peer up at him, his heart jumping when he finds Minho’s lidded gaze resting on his own lips now. He doesn’t know who leans forward first, maybe it was him, maybe it was both of them. It doesn’t really matter, because one moment they’re staring at each other with a question hanging between them, the next soft lips are meeting Jisung’s and he’s melting into Minho without a second thought.

It feels so natural, so easy to kiss Minho. Jisung kisses Minho like he’s done this a thousand times before, moving their lips in tangent, nipping his bottom lip, and swallowing the sweet little noises he lets out. Minho’s hand digs into his shoulder while the other slides into his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp. Minho arches into him, draping himself over Jisung and slotting their bodies together like puzzle pieces. Like they were made for each other.

“Jisung-ah,” Minho whimpers against his lips. “Jisung-ah.”

He doesn’t beg, not like Jisung, but there’s a silent plea in his eyes, a spark of vulnerability Jisung rarely ever sees. Then, his head is tipping back and he’s twitching in Jisung’s hand, cumming on Jisung’s bare torso. 

The moans he lets out are high and pretty, and Jisung dumbly stares at him with his mouth open until he realizes Minho is loud. Panicking, he reaches up and shoves two fingers past Minho’s parted lips. 

Minho’s eyes widen but he takes Jisung’s fingers without complaint, closing his lips and moaning around them. Jisung’s spent cock twitches in his pants, taking interest in the way Minho’s lips look wrapped around his fingers, how hot and wet his mouths feels and–fuck Jisung needs to stop thinking before he gets hard again. 

Once Minho’s finished riding out his orgasm, Jisung finally pulls his hand away. He tentatively pulls his fingers from Minho’s mouth too, stomach churning as he watches a string of spit fall from Minho’s puffy lips. 

He ignores the cum on one hand and saliva on the other, reaching out for Minho immediately. 

He rubs soothing patterns in the small of Minho’s back with one hand, while the other squeezes his hip. 

“Are you um, are you okay?” he asks quietly, blinking up at Minho.

Minho drapes his shaking body over him, sighing against Jisung’s lips, “I’m okay.”

Before Jisung can think of saying anything else, Minho’s lips are back on his own. The kiss isn’t as heated as before, but the way Minho slips his tongue past his lips and licks into his mouth isn’t entirely innocent either. 

They spend a few minutes just like that, lazily exploring each other’s mouths (with the occasional wandering hand) but never go any further, content with basking in each other’s presence for now. After a minute Minho disconnects their lips with a resounding smack and a shaky exhale.

“Okay, we need to clean up,” Minho says, though he looks like the last thing he wants to do is clean up. Jisung wants to protest, having gotten far too acquainted with Minho’s lips. Then, Minho’s eyes fall pointedly down to his pants and the obvious wet spot at the front of them. “You probably need to shower.”

Jisung’s cheeks heat up and he squirms a little. He’d been distracted enough to (almost) forget about the uncomfortable wetness in his pants, but now it’s all he can focus on. 

Minho lifts himself from Jisung’s lap and collects his own forgotten boxers and shorts. Jisung blinks a little when he slips off his shirt, his back muscles flexing distractingly. 

Minho glances over his shoulder and Jisung quickly averts his eyes. He scoots off the bed and slips his own shirt on before grabbing a fresh pair of clothes. He waddles off to the bathroom, cringing with every step. 

Once the door is shut behind him he turns to the mirror and drops his clothes in shock. It’s painfully obvious what he’s just done, with his bruised lips, messy hair and the layer of sweat beading across his forehead. He stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment, half detached to the image in front of him. Then it hits him.

He just let Minho get him off and then gave his first ever handjob in return. Minho. His best friend.

Jisung’s first instinct is to smack a hand across his face, his second is to scream (he holds himself back, thankfully), and the third is to start overthinking. 

He’s never done anything beyond heated makeout sessions. While he’s glad his first time doing something was with someone he trusts, he doesn’t know what happens next. How do you come back from letting your best friend get you off and then returning the favor? 

Minho is probably getting hit with the same revelations. Jisung got hard from something as simple as a back massage, Minho probably thinks he’s not only embarrassingly inexperienced, but also weird. 

Jisung sighs and turns on the water, stripping himself and stepping under the spray. He scrubs himself a bit too firmly, skin rubbing raw as he desperately tries to wash away the residue of his own mistakes.

That’s what it was, right? A mistake. 

How on Earth is he supposed to face Minho after this? After so many years of skirting along the line of friendship and something else this time they’ve gone over the line by a long shot. They’ve finally snapped and done something they can’t ignore or rule off as just them being oddly close. 

How do they go on from here?

Jisung reluctantly steps out of the shower, drying off and throwing on his clothes. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, swallowing thickly. He doesn’t want to face Minho after that, but realistically, he knows he has to. There’s no way to avoid Minho, given that they live together, so it’s best to just rip the bandaid off.

He peeks his head out from the bathroom, looking both ways in the hallway before slowly making his way back to his room. His heart slams in his chest as he turns the handle to his own room. When the door opens, he stops breathing.

Minho isn’t there. 

Jisung exhales, relaxing, then stiffens again. Where did Minho go? 

Jisung turns tail and heads down the opposite end of the hallway, dejected. Maybe he’s decided to avoid Jisung. Maybe it was that bad. Maybe they went too far this time, or–

He stops in his tracks at the end of the hallway, blinking slowly.

Minho doesn’t notice him at first, scrubbing something in the kitchen sink. Then, he glances up, blinking right back at Jisung. He looks back down, and Jisung’s heart sinks, until Minho speaks.

“Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix are going out for lunch in a little bit,” Minho says quietly, setting the plate down and shutting off the sink. “They asked if you wanted to come too.”

He raises his eyes to look at Jisung, tipping his head to the side. Jisung opens and closes his mouth a few times. 

“I–Sure?”

Minho’s lips twitch. “Is that a question?”

“Are you going?” Jisung asks instead.

Minho steps away from the sink, keeping his eyes on Jisung as he starts to make his way over. Jisung’s heart thumps in time to Minho’s soft footsteps. Minho stops a meter or so away. 

“I think we should probably talk about what happened,” Minho says softly. 

Jisung forces himself to nod, his eyes averting themselves once Minho’s gaze gets too much. Minho steps forward and sets a tentative hand on Jisung’s back, guiding him forward. 

They head quietly back to Jisung’s room, sitting slightly apart on Jisung’s bed. Neither of them say anything for a long minute, sparing each other silent glances. 

Jisung wrings his hands together. “So...that happened.”

Minho laughs nervously, “Yeah.”

Another beat of silence.

“...Do you regret it?” Jisung whispers.

“What?”

Jisung forces himself to turn to Minho, repeating louder this time, “Do you regret it?”

Minho’s lips part. “No. Of course not.”

Jisung releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Oh.”

“Do you?”

“No,” Jisung responds earnestly. “I don’t. I really–" He hesitates for a moment. “I really enjoyed it.”

“Jisung-ah–"

“Was that too far?” Jisung blurts before Minho can continue, hot shame creeping up his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I–"

  "Jisung,” Minho cuts him off. Jisung quickly shuts up. “It's not weird for you to enjoy getting off. And trust me, I enjoyed it too. I just want to make sure we’re okay.”

"Why...why wouldn’t we be?” Jisung asks nervously.

Minho smiles reassuringly. “I’m not implying anything, I just don’t want things to be weird because of what happened.”

“Right. Yeah. We’re okay.”

Are we?

“Good.” Minho suddenly looks away, hands picking at an imaginary thread on his pants. “And…if you’re ever looking for more experience...I’m here.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “Huh?”

“Like–” Minho’s ears are starting to turn a bright red. “I know you’re embarrassed about being inexperienced-and you shouldn’t be-but if you really want more experience, I...I’m offering. To help you with that.”

Jisung can’t believe his ears. Minho is offering to do that...again? To give him experience?

"You’d do that for me?”

Minho laughs and scratches his neck. “Well, don’t make me sound so selfless. It’s not like you’re the only one getting anything out of it.”

“Right, but...you really want that?” Jisung has to make sure. 

Minho turns to face him again. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to,” he says seriously. “If you don’t want to, we can totally forget this ever happened and I won’t mention it again. But the offer is on the table. You can take your ti–"

“Okay.”

Minho does a double take. “Okay?”

Jisung’s heart is thumping rapidly in his chest. He’d said it without even thinking, overcome by the idea of getting to touch and feel Minho again. To experience things he’s only ever imagined with Minho. It feels like he’s dreaming, and he’ll be damned if he wakes up now.

“Okay,” he repeats. “We can do that.”

“R–Really?” Minho asks, eyes widening. “Like I was saying, you can take your time to think.”

“I know what I want,” Jisung reassures him.

And it’s true, even if a small part of him is wondering if this is a good idea. If he should continue to lose himself to Minho even more than he already has. It’s already too late to take it back, and Jisung really doesn’t want to. He’s had a taste of Minho, and now he’s wholly addicted.

Minho looks at him for a moment, an array of emotions crossing his face before he slips on an easy smile, eyebrow teasingly arched. “I guess my back massages are that good, huh?”

The nervousness in Jisung’s chest immediately begins to dissipate, a warmth settling in its place. No matter what, Minho always knows how to break the ice, he can make anyone feel comfortable and safe, even someone as anxious as Jisung. 

Jisung’s lips twitch, trying and failing to hide a smile. “Oh, shut up.”

Minho laughs, bright and easy, the warmth in Jisung’s chest increasing tenfold at the sound. 

“We have the rest of the day for ourselves,” Minho says after a moment. “What do you want to do?”

It’s an innocent question, but Jisung knows Minho too well to ever believe for a moment anything he says is rooted in innocence. He catches the glint in Minho’s eye, can feel the gentle pull like an invisible string drawing him to Minho’s form like a moth to a warm flame.  

“I–um,” Jisung stumbles over his words, not wanting to read Minho wrong. Minho tips his head, watching him flounder with barely concealed amusement. “...Why don’t we go out to eat?”

Jisung fights the urge to smack himself in the face. Minho just very clearly gave him the opportunity to continue messing around together on their day off, and he blew it like the big idiot he is. 

Instead of being disappointed Minho smiles and pats Jisung’s knee, squeezing it once before releasing it. “Alright. I’ll put some clothes on and we can head out.”

The rest of the day is normal, far too normal. It’s strange how easily they fall back into their dynamic, like nothing ever happened. 

Jisung isn’t sure how to feel. Should he be glad nothing between them has changed? Should he be afraid this will just become something that will haunt him night after night and they never speak of again? 

No matter the answer, one thing remains the same in their push-and-pull relationship. Being with Minho is easy. 

Being with Minho is right.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

At first it’s hesitant, slow. A shy touch here and a wandering hand there. Neither of them want to make the first move.

Then, one week into whatever little dance they’ve started, Minho pins him down in Jisung’s bed and attacks his lips, feverishly grinding their bodies together. Sweet, breathy moans fill Jisung’s ears and the steady rock of Minho’s hips against his own has him seeing stars. Minho whispers his name as he cums, the quiet Jisung-ah's haunting Jisung’s dreams for nights after.

No touch shared between them afterwards is shy. 

Jisung becomes well acquainted with Minho’s body over the course of the next month and a half. It’s hard to find free time, even harder to find alone time, but any time they do find ends up with hands roaming across bare skin and bodies intertwined. 

Jisung gains quite a bit of experience thanks to Minho. He learns what it feels like to have Minho’s hand wrapped around him, jacking his cock while whispering sweet words into his ear. He learns what Minho’s mouth feels like, humming around Jisung while he blinks up at him through his lashes. He learns what it feels like to cum down Minho’s throat.

But more importantly he learns about Minho too. He’s more than eager to return the favor, drinking in the sweet sounds he coaxes from Minho when he cums. He feels a sort of pride knowing he’s the reason behind those sounds, knowing he’s the source of Minho’s pleasure. 

More than anything, Jisung loves to please Minho.

Minho seems to feel the same when he sinks to his knees one evening, blinking up at Jisung through lidded eyes. He gently nips the skin of Jisung’s thighs, sucking a few bruises while his hand slowly works Jisung’s cock.

Jisung squirms and whines. “Hyung. Please don’t tease.”

Minho hums and finally relents, wrapping his lips around Jisung and sliding down his cock. Jisung moans and slips a hand into Minho’s hair, tugging gently at his locks. Minho lets out an appreciative hum, eyelashes fluttering as he takes Jisung deeper. He sets a slow pace, teasing as ever as he bobs his head up and down Jisung’s cock. 

Jisung sighs, leaning back on one hand as he watches Minho. He always gets so focused when he blows Jisung, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth taking Jisung as far as he can. He claims to have a little “trick” for holding back his gag reflex, calling himself a magician. 

Dumbass, Jisung thinks fondly, lips twitching upward.

Jisung’s thighs shake when he feels the tip of his dick hit the back of Minho’s throat. Minho chooses that moment to suck hard around him, mouth making a pornographic noise that has Jisung groaning and leaking into Minho’s mouth. Minho redoubles his efforts, tears beginning to stream down his face as he works Jisung’s cock deep into his throat.

Jisung’s teeth sink into his bottom lip as he peers down at Minho, taking in his hyung’s debauched appearance. His breath hitches when Minho blinks up at him through teary eyes, a silent question behind his gaze.

“Feels so good,” Jisung whispers. His hand tightens in Minho’s hair when Minho moans around him. “Fuck, hyung, you’re so beautiful.”

Minho’s eyelashes flutter, clearly enjoying the praise. Jisung takes that as his cue to continue, using his free hand to gently brush Minho’s bangs aside as he whispers more praises. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” Jisung finds himself gasping out all too quickly. 

Minho hums around him, and Jisung’s hips begin to jolt forward on their own as he races towards his climax. Before he can reach it, however, the intoxicating heat around him suddenly disappears.

Jisung blinks down at Minho in shock. “What? Why’d you stop?”

Instead of responding, Minho wipes his lips with the back of his hand and stands. Minho’s hands suddenly dig under Jisung’s thighs, manhandling him across the bed until he’s straddling Jisung's thighs. Jisung gapes up at Minho breathlessly, arms instinctively coming up to loop around his neck.

“I want to try something with you,” Minho finally says, voice quiet and bordering on shy. 

Jisung tips his head to the side, heart stuttering in anticipation. “W–What is it?”

Minho once again doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses a kiss to Jisung’s lips and says, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Jisung watches in bemusement as Minho crawls off the bed and leaves the room. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, his skin humming in excitement. Clearly he went to his room to get something, but what? What could Minho possibly have in store for him?

The door creaks open and Jisung sits up on his elbows searching Minho’s person for whatever he went to retrieve. Minho only smiles at him as he approaches, his hands hidden behind his back. 

Jisung whines quietly. “Can I at least know what you’re going to do?”

Minho kneels onto the bed, setting whatever he has down behind him. “Where’s the fun in that?” he chuckles. 

Minho tugs off his shirt and pants, stripping himself bare in front of Jisung. Jisung stares at him in wonder, like it's the first time he’s ever seen Minho naked. Nothing can ever prepare him for the beauty and strength Minho holds in his small but compact body. He’s strikingly beautiful, and every time Jisung sees him, he falls just a little more. 

“Close your eyes,” Minho whispers, a teasing smile finding its way onto his lips. 

Jisung whines again and pouts, but after a moment he relents. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes, nibbling on his lower lip nervously.

He jumps when Minho wraps a hand around him, his skin slick. Jisung’s eyebrows furrow together, a confused moan falling from his lips as Minho slowly works his cock. His confusion only grows when Minho’s hand pulls away, only to be replaced with–

Jisung gasps, something tight and warm sliding down around his cock. “W–What…?”

He instinctively bucks his hips up, moaning when he’s met with a softness that drags deliciously up and down his cock.

Minho laughs softly. “Never used a fleshlight before, baby?”

That’s what he’s using, Jisung thinks dizzyingly. 

He cracks open his eyes and blinks them open, gaze immediately falling down to the fleshlight currently wrapped around his dick. Minho tips his head at him from where he’s kneeling between Jisung’s parted thighs.

“Did I say to open your eyes?” Minho asks suddenly, causing Jisung’s gaze to jerk back up to him.

"I already know what it is, why do I need to keep them closed?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Because I told you to.”

Jisung pouts but once again does as told. Minho still seems to plan on making his life hell, because even when Jisung listens, the slow, teasing movements of the toy never seem to let up. Jisung squirms and fists at the sheets, more whines escaping the longer Minho teases.

“Hyung,” he pleads quietly. 

Minho hums, finally relenting, “Hold this. Keep your eyes closed.” 

Jisung blindly reaches forward and wraps his hand around the fleshlight. He lets out a wanton moan and jacks his cock faster than Minho had. 

He hears Minho moving around and feels the bed shift under him. Jisung feels the mattress dip behind him and shudders when he feels a warmth press against his back. Minho’s breath fans against his nape, lips sliding along his pulse and stopping beside his ear. His arms snake around Jisung’s waist, one hand creeping up his chest and the other gently pushing Jisung’s hand aside. Minho takes control of the toy again, slowing the frantic pace Jisung had set. 

“How does it feel?” Minho murmurs warmly into his ear.

Jisung instinctively relaxes in Minho’s arm, his back pressed against his hyung’s chest. Minho’s voice is naturally soft and just the slightest bit raspy in a way that makes him sound so intoxicatingly sultry. He loves Minho’s voice, could get off on it alone. Jisung feels goosebumps rise on his neck, heat curling deep in the pits of his stomach. 

“Good,” he whispers. His hands cling to the thighs encasing his body, nails digging into Minho’s skin. “Feels good. 

“Yeah?” The toy starts to move faster, Jisung’s hips jolting up and a whimper escaping him. “That’s it. Fuck that toy for me. Good boy.”

Jisung trembles. “Fuck.”

Minho mouths at his neck, gently nipping along his pulsepoint. Jisung instinctively tips his head to the side to give him access. They don’t have the luxury to leave any visible marks, but feeling Minho’s soft lips drag hotly across his skin is intoxicating enough. Even if Jisung does secretly wish those lips would bruise.

When Jisung thrusts up particularly hard into the toy, he hears Minho take a sharp breath.

"Wish it were me, baby?"

Jisung gasps. He's entertained the idea of fucking Minho more times than he can count, but hearing it from Minho himself has electrifying excitement racing up his spine. 

"H-Hyung..."

Minho presses their bodies together, one arm unwinding itself from his waist. Jisung hears Minho's breath begin to stutter, and feels the body draped around him start to tremble. It's only when Minho lets out a soft moan that Jisung realizes what he's doing.

"So pretty,” Minho whispers. “Filling up that thing so well. You’d feel amazing inside me.” Jisung whimpers. “You’d like that hmm? Want to fill your hyung up? Make me feel good with your big cock?”

Jisung quietly cries out, his hips stuttering. “Yes, yes. Please. Want to make hyung feel good.”

With his vision lost, his other senses are heightened. He can focus on feeling the toy tightly wrapped around him and the soft friction gliding across. He can focus on the pretty pants and moans Minho quietly lets out against the shell of his ear. 

He can even pretend for a moment that he really is fucking Minho. That the tight heat he shamelessly fucks into is him. That the moans Minho lets out are because of him. 

“Want to ride you until you cry,” Minho purrs. “Want you to lay there like a good toy and let me use you.”

Holy shit. 

Jisung tries so hard to picture it, his mind conjuring the image of Minho seated on top of him, thighs shaking and head tipped back as he rides Jisung. Uses him.

“Please,” Jisung gasps out. “Want it so bad. Want you.”

“I know. How many times have you fantasized about me, Sungie?” Jisung’s cheeks burn in shame. “How many times have you had to muffle your pathetic little sounds while you thought about fucking me?”

Jisung scratches at Minho’s thighs, his gut curling. “Please, hyung,” he whimpers. 

Minho moans and pants into Jisung’s neck. “Want you to cum in me. I know you’re close, Jisungie. Fill that toy up and pretend it’s me. Be a good boy and cum in your hyung.”

Jisung’s whole body shakes, heat licking at his insides with every word from Minho’s lips. He digs his fingers into Minho’s thighs and desperately thrusts his hips up, shamelessly fucking into the toy to chase his own release. Spurred on by more pretty sounds that Minho lets out in his ear, Jisung finally cums with a deep groan, spilling into the toy.

Minho works him through his orgasm, continuing to move the toy even as Jisung twitches and gasps. Only when Jisung starts squirming a little too much and whining about oversensitivity does he let up, taking the fleshlight off him. 

Jisung cracks open his eyes and dizzily stares at the toy, dripping with his release. Fuck, would Minho drip like that if Jisung came in him? 

Minho hums and gently pets Jisung’s hair. “You okay, Hannie?” he checks.

Jisung nods tiredly, leaning back against Minho’s chest. Minho reaches over beside the bed to grab tissues off the nightstand. He wipes down the toy and sets it to the side before cleaning Jisung’s now soft cock. When Jisung whines and pouts at the oversensitivity, Minho murmurs a soft ‘sorry’ and presses a kiss to his temple in apology. 

Minho’s hand finds its way to his chin, turning his face to the side so he can crane his neck and connect their lips in a messy kiss. Jisung sighs into Minho’s mouth, threading his fingers through Minho’s hair and tugging gently. Minho moans, his still-hard cock pressing into Jisung’s back.

“Want help with that?” Jisung says in the most ridiculously deep and sultry voice he can muster, not trusting his voice to be serious. 

Minho snorts. “Not with that attitude.” 

Jisung turns in Minho’s lap and surveys his appearance. Minho's bangs are sticking to his forehead, his lips are bitten raw, and his irises are completely eclipsed. One look at him and Jisung can tell Minho was close before he stopped to focus on working Jisung through his own orgasm. 

Jisung glances down at Minho's cock, flushed red and weeping. Minho took care of him, now it's time for Jisung to do the same. 

Hesitantly, Jisung meets Minho's eyes. "Can I suck your cock?"

Minho's eyes widen in shock. It's not something they've done before. While Minho certainly isn't shy when it comes to blowing Jisung, Jisung's nervousness regarding his inexperience has stopped him from returning the favor. 

It's not that he doesn't want to, he's just scared of not being good at it. Minho blows his mind–no pun intended–everytime he puts his mouth around Jisung. Jisung desperately wants to make Minho feel just as good, if not better. He just doesn't know where to start. 

"Are you...Are you sure?" Minho asks quietly. "You've never–"

"I know," Jisung cuts Minho off before he starts thinking too hard about his own inexperience. "But...we all start somewhere, right?" He offers Minho what he hopes is a cocky grin.

Minho gives him a calculating look. "I guess. But I don't want you to do this because you think you owe me something. You can just touch me like you normally do."

Like you normally do. God, this is really just becoming normal for them.

Jisung shakes his head stubbornly. "I want to. Really. Just tell me what to do."

"That I can do. You're always good at listening to your hyung."

Jisung flushes and pouts, opting to ignore Minho's teasing words. Instead he begins to shift in between Minho's legs, lowering himself so he's only being held up by his elbows. 

He almost feels trapped between Minho's thighs, cornered to face his cock. Jisung stares at it for a moment, eyes trained on the string of precum dribbling down. Fuck, Minho is so pretty.

Jisung glances up in question, eyes rounding. "How do I do this?"

"Eager?" Minho smirks. 

"Do you want me to suck your dick or not?"

Minho giggles. "Okay, okay, um...Just start with your lips. Use your tongue a little. Don't worry about taking me in your mouth yet. Get a taste first.”

Jisung nods and shifts again, adjusting himself so he can reach Minho. He slowly leans forward, his breath fanning along Minho's shaft. He looks up to see Minho's reaction when Jisung just barely brushes his lips along the skin. Jisung presses an open mouthed kiss to Minho's cock, letting his tongue glide along his shaft. Minho's eyelashes flutter and he exhales shakily.

Jisung takes Minho in his hand and then drags his tongue up to the head, lapping up the precum spilled over Minho’s slit. He lets the taste rest on his taste buds, mulling over it for a moment. It’s salty, not exactly the best thing he’s tasted, but certainly not the worst either. It’s something he could come to like once he gets used to it. He continues eagerly lapping at Minho’s head, roving his tongue around the edges. Minho’s hips jerk up, threatening to push past his open lips.

“Fuck, fuck. Okay, okay,” Minho breathes out. “P–Put your mouth on me. Go slow. Don’t take more than you can handle. And watch your teeth.”

Jisung takes a calming breath before parting his lips, pushing his tongue over his bottom teeth. He wraps his lips around the tip of Minho’s dick, his own spent cock twitching in interest at the quiet groan Minho lets out. He slowly begins to slide up Minho’s length, lips stretching to accommodate the intrusion. 

“Fuck that’s good. You’re doing so well,” Minho whispers, his voice trembling as hard as his thighs. Jisung curiously peeks up to see Minho’s face, flushing when he finds Minho’s own dark eyes already watching him. “So pretty, too.”

Minho reaches forward, gently sweeping Jisung’s bangs out of his eyes as he takes Minho deeper and deeper. He takes as much as he can, relaxing his throat and getting a good way up Minho’s length before he has to stop. He begins to bob his head, setting a slow rhythm up and down Minho’s cock. He wraps a hand around whatever he can’t reach and twists it in time with his movements. 

Minho’s hands thread through his hair, his head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut. “Ah, fuck, yeah. Just like that, baby.”

Jisung hums at the pet name. He barely has time to react to Minho’s hips jolting forward at the vibrations, pushing further into his mouth and brushing against the back of Jisung’s throat. Jisung just barely escapes choking, his throat constricting in a gag half a second after Minho pulls back. Minho quickly tugs Jisung off him by the hair, Jisung quietly gasping at the dull pain in his scalp.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Minho cups Jisung’s face with both hands, eyebrows pressing together in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” Jisung reassures him in a raspy voice. 

“I’m sorry," Minho whispers, looking like a kicked kitten.

“Hyung, it’s okay, really,” Jisung lets out a small laugh. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Minho relaxes, but not entirely, his fingers coming up to play with Jisung’s hair nervously. “Do you want to keep going? We can stop.”

Jisung is quick to shake his head. “No. I like it.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” Jisung’s skin flushes. He pats Jisung’s cheek in a way that's bordering on demeaning. “So eager, it’s adorable. Go on then.”

Jisung is about to take Minho in his mouth again before he timidly asks, “Can you tug my hair while I do it?” Minho’s response is to thread his fingers through Jisung’s hair and questionably tug at his roots. “A–A little harder than that.”

Minho’s eyes narrow just slightly before he’s yanking at Jisung’s hair, tugging his neck back into a painful arch. Jisung’s lips part, a broken gasp falling from them. His spent cock twitches in interest at the pain and the thought of how he probably looks right now, completely at Minho’s mercy.

“Like that?” Minho purrs.

“N–Not that hard,” Jisung barely manages to get out. 

Minho hums thoughtfully, “I don’t know. Think my Hannie likes a little bit of pain.”

He does, but he would rather die before admitting it. 

“Can’t move my head if you’re holding me like this,” Jisung says instead.

“I’ll move it for you.” Jisung blinks up at him. “Open.”

Jisung obediently lets his mouth fall open, allowing Minho to push his head down. He guides his cock past Jisung’s lips, pushing Jisung down his length. Jisung relaxes his jaw and throat, letting Minho slowly fill him up, brushing up against the back of Jisung’s throat. Minho’s grip remains tight in his hair, guiding Jisung’s mouth up and down. Jisung suctions his cheeks around him to create the tight pressure he knows Minho likes by the way he twitches in Jisung’s throat.

“Such a good toy for me,” Minho purrs. “Taking me so well.” Jisung whines around him. “Fuck, your mouth feels amazing.” Minho moans quietly, his head tipping back. 

Jisung blinks up at him, watching Minho in awe. He’s so beautiful when he comes undone, the veil of mystery he uses to shroud himself falling apart, leaving him vulnerable. Jisung loves seeing Minho like this, loves seeing the more vulnerable side of him completely exposed. Only he gets to see Minho like this, something to be shared between them.

He continues to let Minho use his mouth as he pleases, hips fucking up to brush against the back of his throat. Jisung feels so wonderfully full, his throat beginning to burn pleasantly at the feeling of being used. Like his only purpose is for Minho to chase his own pleasure. 

“Shit,” Minho suddenly curses, his cock pulsing in Jisung’s mouth. He pulls Jisung off him, Jisung gasping at the dull pain and the air he’d forgotten he needed. “Keep your mouth open. Gonna cum on your face.”

Jisung doesn’t protest, keeping his mouth slack and letting his tongue slightly loll out. Minho keeps a firm grip on his hair while pumping his cock. It only takes a few moments before Minho is groaning and cumming ropes across Jisung’s face. Jisung screws his eyes shut and doesn’t move until Minho is completely done, cum painting everywhere from his eyelashes to his chin. 

When he peeks his eyes open he finds Minho staring down at him with an unreadable expression, his hand lazily jacking his cock, even as his thighs shake and twitch from overstimulation. 

“So pretty for me,” Minho murmurs. Jisung’s skin burns. 

The hand in his hair loosens and instead moves down, thumb dragging across his skin and gathering up the cum. Jisung’s eyes flutter as Minho’s gentle touch dances along his skin, delicate, like he’s handling precious and fragile art. He only opens his eyes when Minho’s thumb pushes past his lips. 

“Swallow.” 

Jisung obediently sucks the contents off Minho’s thumb, swirling his tongue around the pad of it and swallowing the salty taste. Minho hums, clearly pleased. He finally takes his hand off his cock and begins to pet Jisung’s hair instead. Jisung relaxes at the familiar action, chest warming as Minho gently dotes on him. 

“You did so well,” Minho reassures him in a low purr. He pulls his thumb from Jisung’s mouth, cupping his cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”

“T-Thank you,” Jisung croaks out, face flushing even further at the state of his voice. It sounds like...well, like he got his throat fucked.

Minho’s lips curl upward. “Cute.”

Jisung shies away from Minho’s warm gaze, sitting up on his knees and trying to pull from his grasp. Minho tuts and keeps his hands firm on Jisung, pulling him back in. Jisung fumbles a little, falling against Minho’s chest. 

"Sorry,” he mumbles, but Minho doesn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, Minho brushes Jisung’s bangs from his eyes and loops his arms around his neck. 

“You know, your cheeks are absolutely adorable when they’re stuffed full of cock.”

Jisung splutters, “Huh?”

Minho pats his cheek with a giggle. “You heard me.” 

Jisung tries to calm his pulse and how it accelerates. Once he gets his heart rate somewhat back to normal he leans into Minho’s warmth. 

“Hyung, did you…” he trails off, frowning a little. “Did you mean it earlier?”

“Hmm?”

"When you said you wanted me to…” Well there goes his heart again. “You know.”

Minho’s head tips, his lips quirking up. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’d love for you to do many things. Starting with picking up your clothes off the floor.”

Jisung laughs, albeit a bit nervously. 

He and Minho haven’t talked about having actual penetrative sex before today. He’s not sure if Minho actually wants to, or if he was just saying it to help Jisung along. 

Why would he want to have sex with someone as inexperienced as Jisung?

Sensing his nerves, Minho smiles at him gently. “Promise I won’t make fun of you for asking.”

Jisung breathes out shakily. He knows Minho would never make fun of him, not seriously at least. But he can’t control what Minho thinks of him.

“When you said you wanted me to fuck you,” Jisung mumbles quietly, eyes lowering themselves.

Minho blinks at him slowly, thoughtfully. “Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” His eyes suddenly soften, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Did that make you uncomfortable, Jisung-ah? You know we don’t have to rush anything if you’re not ready.”

Jisung immediately starts shaking his head to reassure him. “No, no. I just–I just didn’t know if you really meant it or not. I don’t know. But I do want to.”

Minho looks relieved, then smug. “Oh? You want to what, Sung?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, but how will I know what you want to do if you don’t tell me?” Minho asks, batting his eyelashes to feign innocence.

Jisung knows better than to think Minho will give up on this.

“I want to fuck you,” he says in a voice smaller than he’s ever heard. “Or you can fuck me. I don’t really care, I just like, um, making you feel good.”

“Oh?” Minho feigns shock, his eyes widening. “My innocent Sungie wants to get fucked? Hmm. Maybe one day. Would love to fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.” Jisung’s body sets aflame at the words. “But for your first time, I think you should be the one on top.”

“But I don’t–I wouldn’t know what to do.”

"There’s a first time for everything,” Minho reassures him gently. “It’ll be like today; I can guide you through it. You want to make hyung feel good, right?” Jisung nods eagerly. “Then listen to me and you’ll do just fine.”

“O-Okay.” He pauses. “When will we…?”

Minho laughs, squeezing Jisung’s shoulder. “Not today. I’m worn out. Plus, the others will be home any minute.” His face suddenly turns serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re positive you want your first time to be with me?”

“I trust you more than anyone,” Jisung says without a second thought. “There’s no one else I’d rather have my first time with.”

Is he imagining the rosy flush creeping up Minho’s cheeks? No, his ears definitely are pinker than Jisung's ever seen them.

“That’s good—trust is good. I’m glad you trust me,” Minho says with a shy smile. “Maybe next time we’re free we can do it—if you feel like you’re ready.”

Excitement fizzles in Jisung’s gut. “I’ve never been more ready in my life.”

“Slow down there. I’ll have to check my schedule, I’m quite a busy man. I’m in demand, as some might say.” 

Jisung laughs. It’s not an exaggeration, their schedule is quite packed as of late. They were very lucky to get away with this today, to have free time while the others were out and about doing their own thing. Usually they just try to stay quiet, and even then it’s difficult with the risk of others walking in. Privacy is a luxury.

“I think the next time we’re both free is in a few weeks,” Jisung thinks out loud, furrowing his eyebrows. “If we can convince the others to go out–"

“I’ll handle that,” Minho says with a mischievous smile. 

“Someone’s eager,” Jisung teases. 

Instead of getting shy like Jisung anticipated he would, Minho places a hand on Jisung’s waist, tugging him closer.

“You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you inside me,” Minho murmurs against his lips. 

Jisung’s eyes widen and his heart stutters in his chest. He can’t imagine Minho fantasizing about him. Why would Minho want someone like him, someone so inexperienced? 

“Y-You’ve thought about it before?”

Minho hums. “So many times. Long before I even got the chance to finally get my hands on you.” Jisung’s head spins with the new information. “But I’m sure you have too.”

“I–” Minho raises his eyebrows, challenging him to lie. Jisung swallows thickly. “I have.”

Minho smiles, pleased by his answer. “Don’t worry. Promise I’ll make your dreams come true very soon.”

As he says it, his fingertips trace up the curve of Jisung’s spine sending sparks where they roam. He sends Jisung a warm smile when he shivers, bumping their noses affectionately together once again, before sealing his promise with a heated kiss.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

The day comes far faster than Jisung anticipated, his body vibrating with nerves. It’s funny how time begins to move faster the less sure he becomes about his decision. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to anymore, it’s just that he doesn’t want to mess up. Minho is more experienced than him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint him in any way. How could he possibly compare to anyone else Minho has slept with? 

Jisung’s fingers tap nervously against his mattress. The others are already starting to take their leave. A giant pit of anxiety coils in the depths of his stomach. 

He jumps when the door opens, meeting the eyes of his best friend and the very near future  thief of his virginity. Where Jisung feels like a coiled spring tensed to pounce, Minho is all relaxed, smiling warmly at him. 

"Felix and Hyunjin are leaving in a few minutes,” Minho says as a way of greeting. 

Jisung’s heart thumps in time to Minho’s steps as he moves toward him. Minho stands in front of him, making him feel smaller than ever, despite only being a couple centimeters taller. Minho reaches forward, taking Jisung’s hands from where they rest in his lap. 

“Nervous?” Minho asks gently, caressing the back of Jisung’s hand with his thumb.

Jisung nods and chews on his bottom lip. “Just a little.”

Minho squeezes his hands. “You can be honest with me, Jisung-ah.” Jisung gives him a questioning look. “We don’t have to do this.”

Something warm glows in Jisung’s chest, burning away some of the anxiety built up. 

“I want to,” Jisung reassures him quietly, squeezing Minho’s hands in return. “I really want to. I’m just nervous.”

One of Minho’s hands comes up to find Jisung’s cheek, cupping it gently. “You don’t have to be nervous, it’s just me.”

Just Minho. Just his best friend, his rock, his first and only love. The one person he never wants to disappoint.

Minho’s smile turns wry. “I’m guessing that doesn’t make you feel much better.”

“I just–"

Jisung sighs. He leans forward and wraps his arms around Minho’s middle, pressing his face against his chest. He breathes in Minho’s scent, warm and grounding, overwhelming his senses and calming him down. 

“I don’t want to mess up,” Jisung eventually mumbles into the fabric of Minho’s shirt.

Minho’s hand combs through his hair. “Me neither.”

Jisung pulls away, frowning up at him in confusion. “What?”

“You think I’m not nervous?”

Now Jisung is even more confused. “Why would you be?”

Minho’s breath comes out in an amused huff. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His face suddenly turns more solemn, some of the anxiety Jisung feels within himself appearing. “I want your first time to be comfortable. It’s unrealistic for it to be completely perfect, but I still want it to be as good as possible for you.”

Minho is nervous, and it's written all over his usually indifferent demeanor. He’s just as nervous as Jisung, and he’s allowing himself to show it, just to make Jisung feel better. He’s expressing a vulnerability he normally doesn’t to make Jisung comfortable.

“How could you possibly mess it up?” Jisung asks incredulously. “You have more experience than me.”

Minho laughs. “I’m not some sort of sex god. I have just as much free time as you.” He pauses, regarding Jisung with a fond look. “I’ve got to take care of you.”

"You don’t always have to take care of me,” Jisung protests weakly.

"I care about you a lot, Jisung-ah.”

Jisung’s heart thumps wildly in his chest. “I care about you too.”

Minho’s thumb traces his bottom lip. “I know.”

A door closes in the distance, leaving them all alone in the dorm. They stare at each other for a long moment, questions and doubts hanging between them. 

“Can I take care of you this time?” Jisung asks after a long moment.

Minho starts. “What?”

“You–You’re always taking care of me.” Jisung looks down, losing confidence with every word. “I want to–I want to return the favor this time. I don’t want you to worry about taking care of me all the time. You’re always taking care of everyone. Shouldn’t you be taken care of too?”

Minho is quiet for such a terrifyingly long moment, Jisung almost retracts his statement.

“I’m not really–” Minho fumbles with his words. “I’m not really used to being taken care of.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I suppose not.” Another pause. “You’re sure? I don’t think you should be worried about me for your first time–"

“I want to,” Jisung cuts him off firmly. “You can still guide me through it if I need help, but let me take care of you this time. I like making you feel good.”

Minho’s shyness is evident now, a bright blush creeping up his neck and dusting across his cheeks. 

“If you really want to,” he mumbles, now the one avoiding eye contact instead of the other way around.

“We don’t have to,” Jisung reiterates. He reaches up, taking Minho’s hands again. “I know you don’t like being vulnerable, it was just an offer.”

Minho’s eyes lift up. “I don’t mind it when I’m with you.”

Jisung’s heart flutters. “Oh, okay.” Minho giggles and suddenly starts to pull away. “Where are you–oh.”

Right in front of him, Minho begins to slip off his shirt, tugging the material over his head and letting it fall to the floor, forgotten. When he reaches for his pants, Jisung bats his hands away, pulling down Minho’s pants himself. 

With Minho in nothing but his boxers, Jisung suddenly finds Minho’s hands at his shirt, tugging instantly at his clothes. Once they're both in just their boxers, Minho climbs into Jisung’s lap. He cups Jisung’s face with both hands and finally kisses him.

He grinds down in Jisung’s lap, steadily rocking their clothed cocks together. Jisung groans quietly into Minho’s mouth, taking him by the waist and aiding him in his movements. Minho shifts above him, the cleft of his ass dragging along the upside of Jisung's cock. Jisung’s cock twitches in interest, and he inhales shakily when he realizes soon enough he’s really going to be inside Minho.

"How do you want me?” Minho whispers.

Jisung’s brain short circuits. “What?”

A roll of eyes. “Do you want to finger me or do you want me to do it myself?”

"Oh. Um. I want to uh, I want to finger you. Please?”

Minho raises his eyebrows. “Is that a question or an answer?”

Jisung pouts. “You know what I meant.”

Minho laughs and gives him a deceivingly innocent peck on the lips. “Go get the stuff.”

The weight on top of Jisung vanishes and Jisung scrambles to grab the previously mentioned items they had stashed in his drawer. (They usually do things on Jisung’s bed, probably because Minho doesn’t like it when they make a mess on his.)

Once he’s retrieved the lube and condom he turns back to find Minho laid back and spread completely bare on his bed. Jisung gives him a quick once over, noting the faint but pretty blush that seems to cover Minho’s body. 

“You’re pretty,” he decides, kneeling between Minho’s spread legs.

Minho squirms a little and averts his eyes, not responding. Jisung doesn’t push for a response, knowing Minho doesn’t do well with shyness. 

Despite his usually indifferent demeanor, Minho gets shy rather easily. It’s easy to fluster him, easy to paint his skin in that same pink blush spread across him now.

Minho slides a pillow under his hips, giving a slight arch to his back to give Jisung easier access. Jisung hesitates where he sits, fiddling with the bottle.

“Ever fingered yourself before?” Minho asks with a smirk.

Jisung feels his face warm and he nods shyly. “A few times.”

A few amazing times. He never has the time or privacy to finger himself unfortunately, otherwise he’d do it all the time. 

Minho’s eyes sparkle knowingly. “You’re definitely telling me more about that later on.”

“We’re supposed to be focusing on you,” Jisung counters before his face turns too red.

“You’re the one stalling.”

Jisung ducks his head at being caught and promptly opens the bottle. He pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and warms them up. He places his clean hand on Minho’s thigh and curiously brushes his fingers against his hole, watching it flutter. He circles it a few times with one finger and gives Minho’s thigh a tentative squeeze.

“Relax,” he murmurs.

Minho exhales shakily, relaxing his muscles and allowing Jisung to push past his rim. He’s unbelievably tight just around one finger, but he doesn’t complain and only tenses up slightly as Jisung slides in. 

Jisung can’t tear his eyes away from how Minho’s body seems to swallow his finger. He’s actually going to be inside there soon, feeling the same tight heat he feels now but even more intense. The mere thought has him twitching in his suddenly tight briefs. 

He begins to push in a second finger, closely monitoring Minho for any sign of discomfort. He goes in slowly, letting Minho’s body get used to the stretch. 

He can tell Minho’s having a hard time relaxing, so he gently caresses his free hand up and down Minho’s thigh in soothing motions. Jisung wraps a hand around Minho’s cock, jerking it in the same pace he keeps with his fingers. 

Bit by bit Minho’s body opens up to Jisung, his breathing coming out in pretty pants. He whines and squirms under Jisung, tugging at the sheets with his eyes squeezed shut and lip caught between his teeth.

Jisung wants more. He knows Minho is holding back, hiding how truly sensitive he is. He wants to coax the prettiest sounds from Minho’s sweet lips. He wants to watch Minho come undone, every wall he’s built up torn down to leave him stripped bare in a way only Jisung will ever see. 

He moves his fingers faster, curling it inside Minho, searching. It doesn’t take too long, the spot swollen and pulsing when he manages to brush against it. 

Minho gasps and arches off the bed, thighs bumping against Jisung’s hips. “Fuck.”

Jisung’s own lips part in a silent gasp. He presses down on the spot, watching Minho’s body twitch and tremble. He redoubles his efforts, pumping his fingers in and out slowly but deeply, keeping a constant pressure on the spot. All while still working his leaking cock, hand slick with precum. 

“You’re so wet,” Jisung murmurs in awe, more to himself than anything.

Minho’s lips part like he’s going to say something but a saccharine moan forces itself out instead. His arms come up to hide his face, as if embarrassed by how he’s coming undone. 

"Hyung, please don’t hide,” Jisung whispers. “You have nothing to hide. You’re so beautiful. It’s just me.”

Minho’s eyes slowly blink open, lidded and hazy. “Just you?” he repeats breathily. 

Jisung nods, and gently caresses Minho’s cheek with his fingertips. He watches Minho’s eyelashes flutter as he leans into Jisung’s touch. He knows Minho secretly loves being pet, being doted upon in the catlike way he usually dotes on others.

“Just me.”

Minho seems to relax in his hold, if only for a moment, before he’s clenching around Jisung’s fingers where they brush against his prostate again.

“Jisung-ah,” he whispers, voice beginning to break. “Add another.”

Jisung blinks a little at the pleading tone, but obliges. Soon enough he’s pressing three fingers inside Minho, his body pulled taut, moans falling freely now. He’s trembling so hard Jisung is almost worried. He knows how much praise affects Minho, so he begins soothing him with quiet praises, still gently petting anywhere he can reach. 

A caress on his hip; hyung is so pretty. A scratch under his chin; you sound beautiful. A cup of his cheek; you’re doing amazing, jagi-ya. 

Minho suddenly gasps, “Jisung-ah. I’m ready.”

Jisung hesitates. “A–Are you sure?” 

And then, he whispers the one word Jisung never thought he’d ever hear. 

“Please.” Minho’s voice trembles with fervent need, freezing Jisung in his tracks. “Please, Jisung. I need you.”

Jisung’s eyes widen and he doesn’t move, unsure how to proceed. Minho is staring up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes. So much unbridled trust and vulnerability lie just behind his irises, open and inviting.

At that, Jisung pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the bed and reaching for the nearly forgotten condom. Once he’s successfully rolled it on he positions himself between Minho’s thighs, hovering over him uncertainly. 

Minho’s arms come up to loop around his neck. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, brushing his nose against Jisung’s. “You’re gonna do great.”

Jisung lets out a nervous huff of laughter, but finds no humor in Minho’s eyes. Only want.

And how can Jisung deny Minho what he wants?

He slowly begins to press inside, sucking in a sharp breath at how tight Minho feels, even with all the prep. Minho feels breathtakingly tight and warm, wrapped so surely around him, Jisung can’t believe he ever managed to wait so long to feel this. To feel Minho. 

He goes slow for both of their sakes, letting Minho adjust and letting himself adjust so he doesn’t blow his load in two minutes. Once he’s fully bottomed out he has to take a breather, panting heavily into Minho’s mouth, his arms threatening to collapse from under him.

“Oh god,” Jisung whispers.

“How does hyung feel?”

“Really fucking good,” Jisung breathes. “Please don’t make fun of me if I cum in like, two minutes. Holy shit.”

Minho laughs—which is terrible because he clenches unbearably tighter around Jisung when he does it, pushing Jisung embarrassingly close to the edge. “It’s okay. I probably won’t last long either. It’s been a while and you feel…”

Jisung blinks at him. “I feel...?”

“Amazing,” Minho finishes earnestly. 

“Oh. Thanks.”

Minho laughs again (he really needs to stop doing that) and reaches up to fondly brush Jisung’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “You can move now, baby. Just start slow.”

Jisung swallows thickly. This is it. He’s actually going to fuck his best friend now. 

“Can I see your hands?” he asks shyly. 

Minho gives him a bemused look but offers them without question. Jisung laces their fingers together and squeezes his hands gently. Minho squeezes his in response, sending him a shaky smile. The simple act has warmth seeping into Jisung’s chest, already feeling less anxious about everything.

This is Minho, he tells himself. You’ll always be safe with Minho.

He brushes their noses together and connects their lips, kissing Minho slowly. At the same time, he slowly pulls out of Minho and pushes back in, both of them gasping into each others’ mouths. He repeats the movement a few times, the drag of his cock inside Minho’s walls intoxicating. 

“Shit,” Jisung breathes. He’s definitely not going to last. 

“You can move faster. You’re doing great so far,” Minho reassures him. “Just keep doing–oh fuck.”

Jisung moves his hips faster, fucking into Minho at a steady pace now. He can tell when he brushes against Minho’s prostate from how high pitched and whiny Minho’s moans become, like his breath is being taken away. 

Minho feels so fucking amazing wrapped around him and looks amazing too. His lips are cherry red and swollen, fallen open with the prettiest pants and mewls falling from them. His eyes sparkle with a shining vulnerability Jisung’s never seen before. He’s never looked so small, completely broken down, stripped bare of everything. It’s like Jisung is truly seeing him for the first time, no mask or walls to hide behind.

“You feel so good,” Jisung whispers.

Minho whimpers, his thighs encasing Jisung’s hips. “You feel–you feel good. ‘M so full.”

Jisung’s ego inflates at the praise. He believes Minho, he doesn’t even need to hear it from how fucked out he looks and sounds right now. He’s making Minho feel good, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

He unlaces their fingers and slides one hand up Minho’s cheek, tracing the delicate bone structure beneath his fingertips. He pulls back, sliding his hands down Minho’s body, cupping his strong chest and dragging his fingertips across Minho’s nipples. He relishes in the soft whines Minho lets out, unable to resist leaning down and grazing his tongue along the sensitive nubs. 

Minho’s body arches up into him, their bodies molding together in tangent to form a symphony. A beautiful work of art, composed by and for only them. 

He sits up again, hands continuing their journey downward until he reaches Minho’s hips. One hand slides under Minho’s thigh, gripping it firmly. 

“Can I try something?” Jisung asks with a squeeze of his thigh.

“Y–Yeah. Of course.”

Jisung ptakes Minho’s leg and hooks it over his shoulder, pressing back inside him. They both gasp, the new angle allowing Jisung to bury himself even deeper into Minho. He slams his hips into him with vigor, fucking into him hard and fast. 

“Oh god,” Minho whispers. “Fuck, jagi-ya, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Jisung almost laughs. Not at Minho, but because he feels like he’s right on the edge already. He holds back, wanting to help Minho before himself. 

He squeezes Minho’s hip and keeps a firm hold on his thigh, digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises. He thrusts into him again and again, his breath coming out in ragged puffs as he gets closer to the edge. 

“Hyung. Minho-hyung,” he gasps after a while. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna-”

Minho is quick to quietly reassure him. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You did well. Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

Jisung groans, his body growing hot at Minho’s words. A few more thrusts into him and Jisung is spilling into the condom, cock twitching where it’s buried deep inside Minho. He continues to fuck Minho through his orgasm, while jerking his cock in equally rough and sloppy movements.

Minho suddenly shudders and cries out, clenching hard around Jisung as he spills onto his stomach. He moans Jisung’s name like a mantra, over and over, his face contorted in pleasure. 

Jisung works him through it, even as his body starts to scream at him to pull out when the oversensitivity starts to become unbearable. He ignores it, solely focused on Minho. 

Only when Minho is completely finished, his body relaxing into the sheets, does Jisung begin carefully pulling out of him. He hisses at the slight burning sensation and takes a moment to catch his breath as he comes down from his high.

He takes a tissue from the night stand and wipes the cum off Minho’s stomach, his free hand gently caressing Minho’s hip. “You okay?”

Minho smiles up at him. “Great. You?”

Jisung nods, tossing the tissue into the wastebasket before leaning forward and draping himself on top of Minho, his own body feeling shaky and exhausted. Minho snakes an arm around his waist and runs a hand through his hair. Jisung buries his face inside the crook of Minho’s neck, inhaling his sweet, intoxicating scene and pressing a kiss on his pulsepoint. He smiles when he feels Minho shiver.

“Hope your first time lived up to your expectations,” Minho says quietly. 

“Are you kidding?” Jisung pulls away to search Minho’s face. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

Minho’s eyelashes flutter, a shy blush creeping up his face. He seems to be blushing around Jisung more and more these days. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now you don’t have to be embarrassed anymore about being a virgin.”

Jisung frowns a little. “I didn’t do this just to say I’m not a virgin anymore, hyung. I really wanted this.”

“O-Oh,” Minho breathes. 

“And-” Jisung hesitates for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. “I hope it doesn’t just stop here. I hope this doesn’t stop just because I’ve gotten the experience you promised.”

Minho’s eyes soften, his fingers brushing along Jisung’s cheek. “It was never about the experience, Jisung-ah. I wanted this too.”

Jisung’s heart beats faster. “R-Really?"

“Of course.” Minho smiles softly. “You think I don’t want you?”Jisung pauses for a long moment. “Why would you?”

Minho’s smile only widens. “You’re the smartest idiot I’ve ever met, you know that?”

Jisung blinks at him, confused. “What does that mean?”

Minho shakes his head fondly and doesn’t respond, instead leaning up to capture Jisung’s lips in a gentle kiss. Jisung melts into him, into the way he gently cradles Jisung’s face, into the softness of his lips, into the warmth he brings. 

“I think we should probably clean up,” Minho murmurs against his lips.

“I don’t want to leave,” Jisung whispers. 

Minho smiles. “Neither do I.”

“Just a few more minutes?” Jisung pleads. “We have time before they get back.”

Minho nods and doesn’t argue further, letting Jisung curl on top of his chest. 

The world feels delicate right now, like if they move, the moment will be lost, and everything they’ve built will shatter. Jisung doesn’t want to lose that. He doesn’t want to lose Minho. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Minho suddenly says, like he knows exactly what Jisung is thinking.

Jisung blinks at him, his heart warming and a relaxed smile finding its way onto his face.

He’s wrong to doubt Minho. Of all the ever-changing chaos in Jisung’s life, Minho has always remained a constant through the years. He’s not going anywhere, and neither is Jisung.

Instead he closes his eyes, listening to the steady beat of Minho’s heart, relishing in its constant thump, never changing. Just being.