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“I can’t come again,” Jisung tries even though he knows it’s futile. Minho has that look in his eyes, the kind of look he gets when he’s hours deep into new choreography, the look he gets when they’re walking home from the convenience store and he sees a stray cat across the road, focused and alight.
Jisung’s probably not going to make it out of this alive and he can’t really bring himself to care.
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“If we’re doing this, we need written rules,” he said, spelling out “Rule Number One:” on the paper in front of him.
“Rules?” Minho asked, sounding confused.
“Yes, rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
Or Jisung’s broken heart leads him to make an arrangement with his mysterious classmate Minho. He believes everything will work out, as long as neither of them breaks the rules.
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They both stare at each other for a moment, and it finally, truly dawns on them. Something has changed. Switched. Been flipped around.
“You’re not my Minho.”
“And you’re not my Jisung.”
or: jisung is transported to a universe where he's dating minho. he handles it.
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right and left.
right
or
left.“Fuck it. It’s just sex. It’s just a match. It’s just a body. I need to win this bet.”
right and left.
right
or
left.
Then he swiped right.
Instant match. -
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"I get it now," he says again. "Why she cheated with you."
Minho freezes. And that feels good, for half a second, like handing someone a grenade just to watch them panic.
"I'm sorry, what?" Minho says slowly.jisung gets cheated on and decides the only logical next step is to track down the hot guy his ex slept with and see for himself if he's really all that. by letting him fuck him.
