Vazonas
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Summary
“I think you’re lying, all the time. I think you think about me too.”
Jisung is close again, in a place he should never have entered. A place Minho had willingly opened to him, luring him into his den. A wolf trapping an unsuspecting lamb; pretty, blinking up at him with trembling eyes. Trembling eyes, but a steady, manly voice. Half a man; apparently more of one than Minho himself.
“Because I do think about you, professor Lee.”
For the sake of his less-than-likely redemption, Minho wants to think he’s not the one who bridges the distance. For the sake of his poor, rotten soul, he decides to think it’s Jisung who leans in further. And if his own back is no longer touching the wood of his chair, and he’s leaning over the desk just barely, then it’s a secret between him and hell.
Or Professor Minho shouldn’t fall for his new research assistant and his sweet, sad, angry eyes. He still does.
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“We are all animals, dressed up in our finery. Hoping the silk and brocade and the manners will keep our primal instincts at bay. That somehow it will leash the beast inside us. Don't you feel it?”
The Duke had been awakening the beast inside of him since they met. The hot, almost angry surge of desire inside him. To press close to Minho's body, to feel his hands and lips upon him. The beat of it pulsed within him, hot and heady.
The salty smell of humid skin and something else lying below. If he pulled off Minho's cravat would he be able to smell him? The real him. The scent of the alpha beast that lived inside his handsome body. Under the silk and skin.
His unpresented nose was too weak to pick up such things, but if he pressed close? As close as their clothes and flesh would allow. If he placed his nose right on the warm spot between the Duke's neck and shoulder, would he be able to smell it then? Perhaps using his tongue could help. If he could taste it–
Or: Unpresented Jisung returns to town for the summer and goes into a snap presentation heat at a public ball, while dancing with Duke Minho Lee.
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Forced into a marriage he had no say in and humiliated by the coldness he finds there, Jisung makes it his mission to become a thorn in his husband’s carefully controlled life.
He’s a moth flying closer and closer to a flame—and he is just bored enough to dream of burning.
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Jisung is a hustler used to selling his body.
Minho is billionaire who offers something he’s never been given—time, conversation, care.
What starts as a strange arrangement slowly unravels into something raw and real. Where bruises run deeper than skin, trust is a luxury, and love was never supposed to enter the room.
Or
After a chance crossing of paths, a shared meal and a stolen item—they agree to terms.
No feelings, no mess. But the lie falls apart the moment Minho touches Jisung like he means it.
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"I was wondering..." He hesitates, then continues in a rush, "I know this is weird to ask, but... would you teach me? How to do… kissing and stuff? I feel comfortable with you." His face reddens deeply, and he looks down at his lap.
The hurt swells in his chest, but he pushes it down, forcing his features into something neutral.
The request hangs between them like a live wire. Minho's pulse thunders in his ears, his mouth going dry.
Minho's breath comes faster now, his hands unsteady where they grip the couch cushions. He wants this - god, he's wanted this for so long he can hardly believe it's happening. But the reality of it makes his stomach twist. Jisung wouldn’t be kissing Minho because he wants to, but because he wants to learn. He can feel Jisung's gaze on him, warm and expectant, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to lean in immediately.
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One night during their weekly movie nights Jisung confesses to Minho he’s never been kissed and that he’s scared to confess to the guy he likes because of his lack of experience. Obviously the only logical thing to do is to ask his best friend to teach him, right?