Chapter Text
Minho wakes up alone with the distant sound of a shower from their shared bathroom.
He stretches languidly, wrapped in Jisung's scent that's only gotten clearer since it's not confined by his human form.
He buries his face in the pillow for a moment, rubbing his cheek on it in hopes the scent would engulf him for the whole day.
After he deems it good enough, he decides to get up and make Jisung's bed, but also his own which is messy from Jisung sleeping in it.
It's a common occurrence that Minho falls asleep in his friend's bed, the latter having to sleep in the unoccupied one. But he never complains, knowing now Minho is very sensitive to smell and seems to prefer Jisung's over his fabric softener.
Jisung once jokingly asked if he could have his bed back, which resulted in Minho pettily refusing to sleep in his own for days.
Not that Minho would mind Jisung simply joining him in the singular bed, but he never vocalizes the idea.
Just as Minho is fluffing up his pillow, now carrying so much of Jisung's unconcealed scent, the man emerges from the steamy bathroom. Minho's throat goes dry as he fights the urge to stare.
Jisung, in his whole demonic glory, is wearing a muscle tee.
A black Metallica shirt, with the sleeves cut off so haphazardly, half of his ribs are showing on the sides.
To top off Minho's misery, he's wearing loose shorts that show off his lean legs covered in sigils and intricate designs.
Minho's face goes warm, as he is blinking rapidly and trying so hard to concentrate on the pillow in his hands. He subconsciously clutches it so hard his knuckles go white.
Jisung is whistling a tune to some overplayed TikTok song and looking for his socks before he spares him a glance, his face a mix of amusement and concern.
„You good?”
Minho stands up straighter, trying to find a quick excuse as to why he looks like he's shitting out a brick, but nothing is coming to mind when Jisung is slowly approaching, imposing height and built arms be damned.
He casually takes the pillow out of Minho's hands, placing it on the bed and grabbing his friend's shoulders carefully.
„You okay Min?”
He looks so concerned Minho could laugh, if he wasn't too busy inhaling the heady scent of something so citrusy and sweet, which is Jisung's usual smell but increased tenfold.
„I'm good, yeah, I was just,-uhh, folding the bed-I mean the pillow. Yeah, anyway.”
Minho scratches the back of his neck, his white ears going flat in shame while his tail swishes anxiously behind him. He would be a much better liar if his cat parts weren't such traitors.
„Am I.. Like, do I make you uncomfortable? Because I can switch to human agai-”
„No!” Minho cuts him off, causing Jisung's eyes to go wide at the volume.
„No, no, it's not that Sung, I promise you, you're fine.” Minho explains in a much calmer tone, not even realizing he placed both hands on Jisung's biceps in his attempt to stop him from walking away or switching back to his human form.
„What's happening then, talk to me hyung.”
Only after a few moments of silence and Minho's face going more and more red, do Jisung's eyebrows relax from their confused furrow, and he spares a quick glance to Minho's hands placed on his bulging muscle.
He looks back at Minho, who refuses to look anywhere but the side, deciding their room is the most interesting thing to analyze right now.
„Minho, look at me.”
Ha has no other choice but to spare him a glance, his fingers lightly flexing in the process, and he would be mortified if Jisung's black eyes didn't display such fondness and amusement.
He wants to scream.
„Am I making you flustered?”
Jisung's cocky smirk would be annoying if Minho could only stop finding it so unfairly attractive, especially the way his fangs glint when they press on his lower lip when he smiles.
„Shut up.” Minho tries to bolt out of the situation, but Jisung is grabbing onto his wrist and laughing like he's having the time of his life.
„No, no, let's get to the bottom of this, you're red as a tomato and I'm finding it highly amusing.”
His big palm fits perfectly on the slope of Minho's waist, making his heart beat wildly, unbeknownst to Jisung who is finding it all hilarious.
His eyebrow raises when Minho refuses to look him in the eyes again, and he boldly pulls him close to his much bigger form.
„Ah hyung, if I know it was this easy to make you flustered, I would be walking around like this way sooner.”
Minho doesn't grant him an answer, and the teasing only continues.
„Is it my handsome face? Or is it the fact that I'm, contrary to popular belief, so much taller than you?”
Jisung means it in a lighthearted way, but there's only so much Minho can take before his ears flatten against his head again, betraying the fact that everything Jisung is saying and doing is greatly affecting his sanity.
He could handle half-naked Jisung in his human form that he got used to in their two-year friendship. But this, actual Jisung in his natural state, with disheveled hair and pointy horns, is making Minho's brain lag.
Jisung's smile falls after realizing Minho isn't laughing with him, and the grip on his waist tightens ever so slightly. Minho wouldn't even notice if he wasn't in a hyperaware state.
„Wait, you actually-, am I actually making you flustered?”
Jisung sounds dumbfounded, ever the humble one, too insecure to accept he's actually extremely attractive and half of campus would sell their kidney to get a chance with him.
But Minho would never admit he is one of them as well, always teasing and babying Jisung to conceal how he truly feels.
Minho then realizes that there is only one way out of this. He takes a deep breath and nods, looking Jisung straight in the eyes.
„Yeah, Sungie, you actually are.”
Jisung's black eyes go wide, a very familiar doe-look to them that Minho usually finds unbearably cute.
But it's only for a moment before his expression is twisting through confusion, realization, and then fondness.
The hand previously holding his wrist carefully moves the messy bangs from Minho's face, combing them back and rubbing over his ears in the process.
Minho closes his eyes, relaxing into the touch as he always does when Jisung initiates it.
„Okay.. Can I do something about it then?”
Minho freezes, opening his eyes slowly to a very serious Jisung still combing his fingers through his hair.
His eyebrow raises, expecting a response from Minho.
„I hope I'm not reading this wrong, but I think it's unfair how much you've been going around campus looking for a good time, when I'm right here.”
Minho's breath hitches at the possessiveness in Jisung's tone, the low register he never heard from him causing his tail to curl around the hand on his waist.
„I never knew.. I've been losing it over you for months, and I never knew?”
Minho whispers his confession, feeling the weight from his shoulders drop straight to his stomach that's turning into a pool of arousal at the way Jisung is looking at him.
„Jagi..” Jisung's hand progresses from scratching his ears to caressing his cheek.
„You couldn't have known, I made peace with you seeing me as a friend.. But I also drank my weight in alcohol when you kept coming home with new hickeys and a frown on your pretty face.”
Minho closes his eyes again, remembering every time Jisung would come to the dorm late at night, smelling of whiskey and sadness, pinning it to stress and anxiety.
„I got so messed up the day you left Chan's party with the vampire guy, right when I was about to confess too.. I thought it was a clear sign I should just keep it to myself.”
Minho leans his head on his chest, cringing at every single moment he unknowingly messed up any chance they had.
„Shit, I slept in your bed for days to get rid of his scent, I hated it so much.”
Jisung laughs, embracing him and gently swaying them while they process how dumb they've both been all these months.
Jisung moves them to the bed, laying down with Minho sprawled on top of him and hiding in his chest still. He draws random patterns on his back, seeing how much surface his palms can cover, triggering Minho's purring in the process.
„I.. This is so-, I thought you were straight?”
Jisung bursts out laughing, jostling them both, while Minho frowns at the reaction.
„I'm not laughing at you, I swear, it's just insane to me that you thought so after seeing me cry over Ryan Reynolds at least three times.”
Minho laughs at the memory as well, feeling both relieved and happy, but still a little hot and bothered, especially since his whole body only barely covers Jisung's with how much bigger he is.
„I'm bi, I just never had anyone over. Didn't want anyone since I met you, honestly.”
Minho melts at the comment, but his sweet smile doesn't last long.
„You, on the other hand..”
Minho knows Jisung is only making fun of the situation, but he can't help but feel a pang of guilt knowing he kept hurting Jisung when he was trying to get over him by sleeping with other people.
Jisung tuts, his gentle back scratching turning into a slow, deliberate drag of palms over his back.
„So insatiable.. Going out with lame werewolves and vampires when I know how to handle you best.”
Minho rises on his elbows, shocked at Jisung's boldness.
He looks so confident even when he's under him, the smile on his face causing Minho some serious trouble, both in his heart and below waist.
He supports Minho's weight by holding his waist, his legs casually crossed at the ankles and his hair disheveled from moving around the bed. Minho gazes down where his cut shirt has slipped to the side, revealing a nipple adorned with a simple metal bar. He feels saliva pooling in his mouth.
„You talk a lot Hannie.”
Minho tries to sound cocky, but his voice shakes for a split second, and Jisung takes that chance to grip his waist the way he wanted to since the beginning, pulling him between his now spread legs, their faces barely an inch apart.
Even in the darkness of Jisung's eyes, only the two irises glowing red, Minho can see so much hunger. A pleasant shiver goes down his spine and his tail intuitively curls around the wrist holding him up.
„You got other ideas for my mouth then?”
The tension grows so fast, Minho doesn't fight the urge to lean in and kiss the man below him. Jisung wastes no time in kissing back with fervor, seemingly devouring him while his hands pull their bodies together. It feels overwhelming in the best way.
Even though Minho is still on top, his control slips easily the more Jisung touches him all over. Hot kisses travel to his neck, fangs gently nipping at his sensitive spots and making him whimper embarrassingly fast.
He can feel Jisung smiling against his skin, big hands progressing under his shirt to touch his bare back and drive him mad.
Seeing this confident, almost cocky version of Jisung is fucking with his head so much, he's unable to decide if he's content just like this or wants Jisung to ruin him completely.
He doesn't have time to decide before he's flipped over in an unfairly hot display of strength, Jisung's biceps bulging in his sleeveless shirt in the process. Minho closes his eyes so hard he sees little white specks behind his eyelids. He realizes briefly that he's already ruined.
Jisung is all over him, caging him in, kissing his lips and nipping at his neck. Inked hands pull the collar of his shirt down so he can leave little blemishes all over his collarbones too. It feels like he's everywhere at once, and the heat in Minho's stomach is spreading all over his body at record speed.
Sensing Minho's already slipping to cloud nine, Jisung pauses and smiles at him, his hand gently caressing his waist under the bunched-up shirt.
„You know the traffic light system, yeah?”
Minho nods rapidly, wanting his mouth and hands back on his skin.
„You'll stop me if anything is too much, alright?” Jisung looks so reassuring, Minho doesn't know if he wants to cry from fondness or horniness first.
„Yeah, please, just please keep going.” He's already out of breath, and they haven't even done that much.
Jisung smiles and nods, pecking his mouth once in agreement, but he can't seem to get enough, briefly licking between his lips in a way that's so filthy and messy, Minho's hands shake where they grip Jisung's.
The combination of getting his tongue sucked and Jisung's fingers rubbing his nipple makes his back arch until their groins rub against each other and send tingles all over their bodies.
It only spurs Jisung on, as he obscenely licks his own finger before returning it under the shirt and circling Minho's nipple while staring right at him through half-lidded eyes.
„Fuck, fuck, fuck-”
Jisung noses right behind his ear, smiling at the chant of moans Minho can't conceal.
„I'm getting to it, baby.”
Minho rolls his eyes, a growing smile interrupted by a furrow of his brows at a particularly harsh suck on a sensitive part of his neck.
„You're,-ah, so annoying.”
Jisung boldly palms his dick, and he is certain his legs would give out if he wasn't already laying under him.
„You seem to enjoy it anyway.”
Minho can't believe the cockiness keeps on adding to the pool of arousal in his stomach, and the hand rubbing him through the sweatpants only confirms he has every right to be cocky, when he is driving him crazy with a few simple touches.
His pants are off before he can even process it, Jisung's dark eyes fixed on him from between his thighs.
It's a sight that leaves him feeling faint, and he only nods before lifting his hips for Jisung to pull down the only barrier separating them.
His shirt is bunched up and he resists the urge to bite down on it to stop himself from making so many sounds. He's one harsh suck on his thigh away from purring and moaning at the same time.
He is usually pretty much silent in bed, but something about the pools of darkness dripping desire and staring right at him, bring out every single whimper out of him.
The contrast of his pale thighs and Jisung's heavily inked hands gripping them makes his dick leak on his stomach, and he would be embarrassed if it didn't cause Jisung to bite his lip so deliciously in response.
„Fuck, Minho. So perfect.”
Jisung shudders and licks the tip, where a line of precum connects it to Minho's wet stomach. His sinful tongue slowly circles the pink head, before he's completely engulfed in the wet heat of his mouth.
His legs twitch under Jisung's hard grip that is keeping him from thrusting up, and he feels himself throb in his mouth. Mortified, he places his own palm over his mouth and feels the way his hole is already leaking too.
Jisung looks him in the eyes, his pink lips stretched around him still, before he grabs the palm that's gripping the sheets unforgivingly, and guides Minho's hand to his head.
His horns, more exactly.
„F-fuck, really?”
Jisung nods carefully, closing his eyes and going deeper until his nose connects to Minho's stomach and his throat contracts around the tip.
Minho's eyes roll back as he grips one horn, the other hand still firmly over his mouth in hopes he could hide the mix of purring and whimpering Jisung is causing.
When he pulls off with a final wet kiss to his tip, Jisung's eyes seem hazy, lips red and dripping with a mixture of saliva and precum.
Minho's hand goes from holding on to his horn to slowly dragging his fingers to the root hidden by messy black hair. He watches Jisung's face become even more lax, the whole view of him debauched and messy.
„Mm, taste so good baby.” Minho sees a shift in Jisung's composure, his face going from fucked-out to I'm-about-to-fuck-you-out, and his whole body suddenly feels like it's on fire.
Jisung wipes his chin with the back of his hand, pulling Minho's wrist and sweetly kissing the fingers that scratched around his horns.
„I wanna eat you whole.”
The contrast between the sweet kisses and his confession is giving Minho whiplash, and before he knows it he's flipped on his stomach.
The hands on his hips drag him back, until his lower body is arched in the air, supported by one arm wrapping under him to hold him up. He grabs Jisung's pillow to have something to hold on to, burying his head in it to try to muffle the embarrassing moans and whimpers of Jisung's name.
He's caught off guard by a quick, sharp slap to his thigh.
„None of that baby, wanna hear you.”
Jisung's voice is dangerously low, Minho grips the pillow between his fingers and buries his face even deeper after a surprised cry leaves his mouth.
„Color?”
It takes a moment for Minho to gather his scattered brain before he stutters out a muffled response.
„Green, so green, please-”
The next slap is harder, followed by a gentle kiss to the same spot.
Same lips travel from the back of his thighs to his ass, leaving behind a trail of saliva that breaks out in goosebumps when Jisung blows cool air on it, the spots he left red handprints on moments prior soothed immediately.
Jisung's eyes follow a trail of sticky wetness, steadily dripping from Minho's balls and leading up between the cheeks. He groans when he opens him up and sees just how wet he's already gotten.
His tongue follows the same path, all the way from the perineum to the source of the sickly sweet fluid steadily leaking out of Minho. He replaces it with a thumb, hooking it gently in the fluttering hole and causing Minho's whole body to twitch and arch towards him more.
Minho's hole seems to suck him in, greedily swallowing more and more of his thumb until he's knuckle-deep. He pulls out with a line of slick stretching between the hole and his thumb. He spreads it on his fingers, dipping the two inside while Minho keeps begging for more.
Jisung's own dick twitches when he meets no resistance, his long fingers disappearing deep inside and Minho pushing back at him eagerly. When he gets to the fourth finger, the stretch of Minho around him is so obscene he could cum on the spot, just from fingering him.
He closes his eyes as he feels Minho's hole flutter around his long digits. Sweaty, with slick running down his legs and dick hanging heavily in between, he looks like a wet dream. His legs are already shaking, barely holding up the weight that isn't completely supported by Jisung's arm.
A possessive feeling crawls up Jisung's back, making him shudder in need to give him everything he wants, and more.
He pulls the fingers out, quickly taking off the remainder of his clothes and Minho's ruined shirt.
He spreads the remaining slick covering his fingers on the length of his dick, already wet from all the precum leaking while he was torturing Minho, and kneels behind the man.
The feeling of Jisung's tip entering him has Minho gushing out so much slick, it creates a sound so sloppy he would be mortified if it was anyone but Jisung behind him.
Jisung only tightens his grip around his hips, breathing heavily and holding on to the little control he somehow still has.
Just as Minho thinks he's bottomed out, another inch enters him, the girth feeling like he's getting split in two. His eyes roll back and his chest heaves as the hands from his waist grab his elbows and pull him back until he's upright and seated on Jisung's kneeling lap.
He chokes at the feeling of Jisung buried to the hilt, the only thing keeping him from reaching his peak embarrassingly fast being the hand firmly holding the base of his dick.
„My pretty kitten, so eager for a big cock, yet barely keeping it together when he's sat on one.”
Minho is so far gone, saliva drips from the corner of his mouth while one big palm is rubbing his stomach and the other one is preventing him from cumming.
Jisung licks the trail of drool on his chin, plunging his tongue inside Minho's mouth while he gently rocks upwards to get Minho used to the size. The palm on his stomach grabs his hand, bringing it to the spot where it just resided.
Jisung presses their joined hands on the stomach where Minho can feel the length moving inside him. He shivers at the realization, closing his eyes with a mix of purrs and breathy whimpers, as he feels his stomach trying to accommodate Jisung.
He didn't get the chance to see him, but it feels like he's so much bigger than any of his large toys. His eyes roll back at the thought, ears flat on his head in complete surrender to Jisung who is slowly bouncing him on his dick.
Every torturous drag feels like it's rearranging him from the inside, his prostate being stimulated unrelentlessly until all he can think is Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.
Jisung grabs his arms firmly, crossing them on his back and preventing him from moving when his thrusts become sharper, punching out moan after moan from Minho's dry throat.
He's reduced to a crying mess and it feels like hours have passed when Jisung slows down, leaning them both forward until Minho is back on his knees. His back is glued to Jisung's chest as he cages him in on all fours.
The obscene sounds of Minho's slick make Jisung's head spin, and he fights the urge to bury his fangs right where the shoulder meets the neck. He nips at the area instead, Minho's moans so loud he can feel their vibrationswhen he kisses his nape.
He tries to pull away, but Minho's hand reaches over his shoulder, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back into the crook of his bite-covered neck.
„Please, feel so good, you're so good.”
Jisung groans at the praise, licking a fat stripe over all the hickeys he left.
Minho's hand, instead of urging him on by holding the back of his head, grabs his horn instead. Jisung's hips stutter in a brief loss of composure and his black eyes roll back, thier darkness replaced by a deep red color.
Minho is squeezing the soul out of him, and he's aware the man is one deep thrust away from orgasm, so he speeds up, burying himself deeper with every stroke.
His hand reaches between Minho's legs, taking hold of his neglected dick, and he immediately locks up, his whole body shuddering through an orgasm.
His face contorts in a silent scream, dick leaking all over the sheets and Jisung's hand. His hole squeezes around Jisung as he keeps fucking into him through copious amounts of slick leaking around his dick and down Minho's thighs.
„A-ah, I can't, I can't, it won't stop, Jisungie I can't stop-”
Minho keeps shaking, hands giving out under him as the side of his face hits the pillow in a mess of tears and drool.
The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours, his body locking up and relaxing every second as he struggles to think, let alone breathe properly.
His eyes go wide as Jisung keeps thrusting at the same pace.
He kneels on one knee, the other leg balancing him while he keeps pulling Minho's hips back into him.
Minho, feeling absolutely fucked out, can't hold himself up and they both slowly fall flat on the bed, Jisung stretching his legs so he lays fully on top of him.
He leans over him on one elbow, his other hand under Minho and splayed over his stomach while he changes the pace to deep grinding, barely lifting his hips from Minho's. His groans get louder, as he pushes Minho into the bed with every deep rut.
Minho's eyes fill with tears, overstimulation mixing with rapidly growing pleasure.
A gentle kiss is placed on his tear-streaked cheek, before his eyes are rolling back and another orgasm is ripping through him.
The tight squeeze of his hole brings Jisung over the edge with him, as his hips stutter and he buries himself to the hilt one last time. The sounds Jisung lets out would make Minho cum again, if he wasn't already entirely spent.
Jisung holds him close while his hips stutter a few more times, and Minho completely relaxes into the sheets, the aftershocks slowly leaving his body.
Jisung pulls out as gently as he can, flopping to the side where Minho's face is half-smooshed in the pillow.
He smiles at his fucked-out expression, pecking the lips that are probably still covered in a mix of saliva and tears.
He slowly brings Minho back to earth by rubbing his back and peppering his face with kisses. His petting progresses from the fluffy white ears on his head to the tail laying limply behind him.
Minho smiles at the affection, fighting his eyes to stay open and admire Jisung's fond expression. He wants to say so many things, but it feels to exhausting to even blink, so he keeps purring and pushing his head closer to Jisung's hand.
Jisung understands him wordlessly, just like he always has, and cleans him up while peppering kisses all over his spent body.
He dresses them both, blushing slightly when he pulls his favorite band shirt over Minho's head, who only blinks at him sleepily.
When he deems them both clean enough, he gets Minho to drink some water and places him on the unruined bed.
He changes the sheets on his own, and after a good five-minute battle with a fitted sheet, he looks back at Minho who is already out like a light.
He carefully picks him up, bringing them both to his own bed that he wouldn't mind sharing forever.