wic4ky
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"Needy," he whispers, gathering the older man's hair, which has grown out on top of his head, into a fist. Jisung continues talking on the phone, and the sticky haze that clouds Minho's mind deepens. He swallows thick saliva, watching Jisung's kissable lips move, uttering flawless English phrases, while simultaneously sliding his fingers over Jisung's scalp like he's a large, affectionate cat caught in his grasp.
"Fuck," Minho bites his trembling Adam's apple with emotion, simultaneously squeezing Jisung's sides, pressing just below his ribs. "You're going to kill me."
Minho is always on top. Always the one in control and setting the pace. In bed, in relationships, in life. But with Jisung, control is a privilege the younger man generously grants him. Jisung lets Minho be on top, lets him think he's in charge.
And Minho falls into this trap every time with a grateful groan.