Work Text:
It's at the gate when he gets to see him again. Though, he is not smiling.
Jisung's feet move without a thought, running right into his arms. One encircles his waist and the other comes up to his hair, weaving through his locks while holding him tight against his body.
"Jisungie..." Minho trails off, his voice catching on a sob. He can feel his head dipping to his neck, tears stain his black shirt. "Why."
Jisung's grip tightens around his neck, but all he does is try to comfort the older. "I missed you."
Minho only chokes back a sob at his confession, both his arms now at his waist, holding him so impossibly close. He won't disappear.
"I missed you so much, hyung." Jisung keeps his voice steady, though his vision starts to blur into all whites.
They stand in each other's arms for who knows how long. For who knows, there's not many eyes on them. A thing they do know is that they got all the time in the world now.
"You must be thirsty. Let's grab a drink." Minho's grip thightens for a second before he pulls away, this time with red eyes and a smile that makes Jisung feel all of his fondness in his belly.
They make their way towards a café far down the road. There are many things around them that could've grabbed his attention easily, but all Jisung has his eyes on is Minho, right now.
A waitress points to an empty table in the farther corner of the café. It isn't busy today it seems, a lot of the tables are unoccupied. Once seated, Jisung grabs for the menu. "Can I order food?"
"Cheesecake?" Minho gazes at him from across the table. He hadn't seen him for a month, but not much could have changed in such a period of time. Jisung shakes his head. "Something decent for now."
The waitress soon approaches them and they recite their orders.
With nothing on hand to do, waiting for their food. A silence falls.
Jisung looks down at his pale hands. He doesn't regret it, maybe that's his worst regret, though. He should've tried.
"I missed you so much," Minho finally says. His eyes water, but he tries to catch his composure before he breaks down again. He sniffs looking into Jisung's eyes. They are still full of life.
"Minho hyung-" Jisung stops before he crosses a line unbeknownst to him. He will only break down himself.
Their drinks and food arrive and Jisung eagerly gulps his glass of water down before continuing to sip on his Earl Gray tea.
Jisung then proceeds to quaff the mashed potatoes and breadcrumbed chicken breast as if he hadn't eaten for that whole month.
When he's halfway into his meal he asks, "Aren't you hungry?" His big curious eyes make Minho snicker.
"I have already eaten. Or halfway that is," he answers. An untouched cheesecake lays in front of him. He keeps looking at the younger, paying nothing else mind.
"Halfway?"
"You came." Jisung's gaze drops to his plate, seemingly having lost appetite.
"Eat. I know you're hungry," Minho notices. He holds his own café royale, sipping on it rather slowly, but hissing when it stings his throat. He will need it.
Jisung finishes his food. When he's almost done with his tea, Minho slides his plate to him.
"Why are you giving it to me? You ordered it," he asks, surprised, yet already digging into the dessert.
"Just eat," Minho mumbles into his hand when he put his chin on his palm, done with his coffee.
He sets down the mug and soon Jisung has his plate clean. The waitress comes back to pick up their tableware.
Both order tea.
They sit, Jisung keeps looking down at his hands, but Minho can't take his eyes off of him.
"You're here now. At least look at me! Isn't this what you wanted?" Minho sounds hysterical, contrary to his crossed arms. Jisung at once looks up and locks gazes with him. He shivers, though. As if he can't face what he wanted for so long.
"I don't regret it," he concedes. He doesn't dare to look away. He wants Minho to know. It was his decision. It's way too late. He can't fix it and he wants it this way. It is the better option for him. For the both of them.
Minho stares, his teeth clench and he mourns. Thickly, he swallows, keeping himself from bursting
Jisung looks away again, into his drink. The tea's too hot, so he blows and sips. And Minho gets reminded of those times, when they sat at their couch, wrapped up in blankets, hot mugs steaming and a series playing, which they don't pay much attention to. They talk softly about their day, about their past and about their future.
"How," Minho inquires.
"I leaped." Jisung's lip quivers and his grip around the mug tightens. He hides his lowered head behind his mug, as if it'll give him some kind of protection.
"Why?"
"I- I miss- missed you, you know," his voice cracks as he stumbles over his words.
"Okay." And that's it. "Hey," Minho calls out with a simper. Jisung puts his mug down and is taken aback by the older's behaviour.
"I missed you too. A lot," he trembles and that's how he knows it's genuine. Jisung returns his smile.
They drink their tea and leave.
Once back on the street, Jisung keeps his eyes on him.
"Jisungie," Minho starts, he's encouraged by a low hum from the younger. "Do you want to move in with me?"
Jisung snorts at the question and Minho startles, worrying that he crossed a line.
"I thought it was a given," he explains himself with an apologetic grin when he notices the negative reaction. Minho visibly relaxes.
"You know." Minho now takes a route he's memorised by heart. "I wished you'd valued your life more." Jisung ignores it and slips his hand into his, holding tight.
They enter a flat and then his apartment.
Jisung looks around, his eyes met with cozy browns and dark reds. A cat tower awaits in the corner and he feels himself smile.
Standing in the middle, he hears quiet footsteps before familiar arms circle around his waist from behind, on instinct his own wrap around them. Minho noses his nape, his warm breath making his belly feel ecstatic.
He mouths and sucks at the side of his throat. Licking it in retaliation. Jisung whimpers, but quickly closes his mouth. He can't be loud.
"Let me hear you, baby. You can be as loud as you want to here." With that, Minho snakes his hand down to feel up his thigh. Inner thigh and then his bulge. Jisung tenses and shivers in his arms.
He bites on his lip and when Minho notices it, he reaches up to pull it out. "I said to be loud, Sungie." Without a warning he presses into his clothed erection. Jisung moans so loud and Minho loves it. All the sounds. All of Jisung.
Minho chuckles lowly and pulls away. The younger almost stumbles, from just being held up by him, he feels weak in his legs.
Minho takes his hand and drags him towards a door. He's quick to close it behind them and push Jisung onto the bed. He climbs on top of him and gazes down at him.
Jisung reaches up, holding his face in his hands. Minho can't handle it. He surges down to capture his lips. Jisung hums appreciatively.
They kiss rather softly. Taking in what they've missed in that month. Their lips move with slighter fervor.
Minho keeps himself upright on his forearm, one hand in Jisung's hair.
The moment Jisung licks his lip, Minho grasps Jisung's wrists and pins them above his head into the bedding. His whimper gets quietened by Minho's eager tongue intruding.
Jisung breathes through their kiss, already feeling lightheaded. Minho smirks, but doesn't let up. His tongue licks his inner cheek, behind his teeth and his palate. The latter makes Jisung breathe in shakily.
Minho snakes his hands upwards, interlacing theirs. He sits down on Jisung's crotch, still looming over him, he dips down and starts kissing on the other side of his neck. Sucking and popping off with an obscene smack.
Jisung squirms under his weight, whining, he only makes himself feel the drag of their crotches together. He moans grinding up.
Minho grinds down, mumbling into his neck, "Did I get you so worked up, baby?"
Jisung nods hastily. Minho bites the skin on his jaw, pushing for words. "Yes," Jisung whines out.
"Good. You're mine." He surges again for a bruising kiss, but cuts it short.
He sits up on his lap, untangling their hands. Jisung's find home on his thighs, squeezing the muscle. Minho giggles at that. For a moment, he admires the sight underneath him. Jisung's flushed cheeks, his hazy eyes and droopy eyelids, disheveled hair and the crimson blossoms on his neck. He missed this.
Minho stands up and quickly takes off his shirt, Jisung takes him in too.
It was just a month, yet they keep taking each other in as if they haven't seen each other in years. As if that month made a difference. In an aspect it did, but they don't mind. Rather, they don't have to care anymore. It's just them.
Stripped of his clothes, but boxers, he crawls back onto the bed, beside Jisung.
"What are you waiting for?" Minho questions impatient. Jisung snaps out of admiring the older, quickly catches on and strips himself.
He gulps under Minho's gaze. His eyes set on his ribcage. Bones prominent under his skin. Minho drags a finger over them, stoic.
Jisung's not sure how to feel, but a touch of his is electrifying and goosebumps form over his arms nonetheless. Minho smiles gravely.
"Take these off." Minho pulls up the band of his briefs. He lets go and it hits Jisung's waist with a soft clap, he jumps at the feeling. Promptly, he takes them off and throws them somewhere on the ground.
"On your back by the headboard," Minho orders, his eyes following Jisung's hard cock moving obscenely side to side.
Jisung props himself on a pillow. He keeps his knees up and closed. Heat gathers on his face. He doesn't understand why he feels as if he's seventeen again under the same familiar sly eyes.
Minho scoots towards him. He grips his knees and forces them apart. His hands shoot out to hold onto the comforter. Jisung whines at being exposed. Like this. To him again.
Minho inspects under, as if trying to find out what he's working with, if something's changed. Both know that it didn't.
Without a care, Minho lays down in between his legs and licks a stripe up his length. Jisung moans and squirms and tries to close his knees, but Minho keeps forcing them apart.
He licks up and swirls his tongue over his flushed cockhead, Jisung shrieks, his hand coming to tangle in Minho's hair and he downright screams when Minho drives the tip of his tongue into his slit.
Jisung grips the locks inbetween his fingers. Minho hums, the vibrations making him breathless.
With a smirk, he lets his tongue slide down his length, over his balls, licking in between and to his rim. He circles his tongue and watches as Jisung falls apart at the feeling. His mouth gasping for air. Eyes barely open, following his every move.
Minho keeps his hands on his inner thighs as he sucks on his entrance, while slowly licking inside. Jisung moans and arches his back the moment Minho's tongue enters. He's relaxed, though.
He licks his walls and goes as deep as he can, his teeth mouthing at the muscle. He slowly fucks him with his tongue. The grip in his hair tightens and tightens, and Minho's not even sure if he can have a stronger grip, but somehow he does.
Minho snakes his hand back down to his hole and pushes a finger in beside his tongue. It's a tight fit, but it's better so. He thrusts in along with his tongue. Jisung shivers, but doesn't make a sound this time, he gasps, his breath catching. His eyes shut tightly, face morphed into a raw image of ecstasy.
He adds another to scissor him open, his tongue licking into open space. He took away his mouth and plunged in a third finger. Slowly moving it.
When he finds Jisung enough stretched, Minho pulls off completely, gaining a loud whine at not being filled up anymore
"What's that for? You know what you'll be getting next. Or, maybe not?" Minho teases, streching towards his bedside table drawer to grab lube. "You should start begging. I might change my mind."
Jisung's eyes follow his hand, as he retrieves the lubrication, while he finally takes off his underwear, his cock springing right back up against his belly, already wet with precum, as he pumps it once, twice, gets tired of the dryness and drips some lube onto it.
"Baby, I don't need to do this. I can easily jerk myself off to your pretty desperate face. It's all up to you," he teases more. He keeps pumping himself in a slow manner, looking all over Jisung's body and when his eyes, dark with lust, meet his, he can't help it.
"Please-" he whimpers, gripping the bedding once again. Minho sees over with amusement as he falls apart even more.
"Please what?" Minho smirks mischievously, knowing he's got him right where he wants him.
Jisung's cock bops pathetically untouched. He can hear a cry from his throat. "Please, hyung! Please fuck me. Please! I need it so bad." Jisung's voice falters at the end of his sentence, but that's alright. It was more than enough for Minho to indulge him.
Minho crawls forward, his lube covered hand caressing his inner thigh, leaving the substance behind. He pours more lube onto his fingers and plunges them without remorse inside his hole. Jisung cries out at the sudden intrusion. His back coming off the bed in a pretty arch.
Minho immediately takes them out again and spreads the rest of it over his length, he wipes his hand clean on the bedding.
Minho crawls forward till his hips brush against Jisung's thighs and lines himself up.
"How are we feeling?" Minho asks. Jisung's hazy eyes stare onto him, but are mostly unfocused. He pinches under his thigh, earning a shriek. "Good. I'm feeling good," he breathes out.
With a chuckle, Minho proceeds to push his tip in, hissing at the tightness. He pushes himself up, so he is hovering over Jisung. Quickly, the latter's hands come up to claw at his back.
He bottoms out and both groan under the feeling, the nails dig harder into his back.
"Hyung feels so good. So good," Jisung says inbetween gasps. Minho buries his face in the younger's shoulder, nipping at his skin. His hand roams over Jisung's side, making him squirm slightly.
Jisung rocks back, wanting more, but Minho just wants to stay like this, forever, inside him. It is the most inconvenient, yet the most comforting position.
"Hyung, please." Jisung puts his forehead on his shoulder. "Please move."
That's all it takes for him to pull out and plunge back in. His thrusts are slow but quick snaps, he holds him down by his hip. With every smack of their skin Jisung cries out. Clawing into his skin, without a thought to spare.
He isn't sure how long they've been at it. They want to feel everything what the other can give.
The moment his stomach starts to clench up, his hand reaches in between them to jerk Jisung off hastily. He writhes under his touch, under all the stimulus. His staccato moans are loud in Minho's ears, but it only surges him on.
In less than three thrusts Minho was cumming, he bites hard on Jisung's shoulder. The younger stays pliant in his arms, while he rides out his orgasm, filling the younger up and pumping Jisung's cock.
Soon overstimulation kicks in, but he thrusts in little and little with the wet sound of gliding with his cum, pushing it back in, only for it to come back out, keeping his teeth in Jisung's skin.
With a scream Jisung comes all over Minho's hand and his own chest. Minho by the time pulls out and jerks Jisung's length till he's all over and sensitive. He pumps even though no more cum comes out anymore.
"Hyung, plea- Please, stop. It hurts," Jisung whimpers, his hands coming to wrap around his forearm.
Minho does just that, takes one of his hands into his not cum covered hand, interlaces their fingers and dips down to kiss him. Softly, their lips move against each other, as if a conclusion to the night.
Minho smiles into the kiss, deepening it. Though, he pulls away again.
"I'm gonna go grab a cloth, be right back, sweetheart." Minho places a peck on his nose, making Jisung scrunch it up. "Be quick."
"Of course."
Jisung lays there, tired, but nice and warm all over. A smile plays on his lips and he thinks again; he doesn't regret it.
Minho comes back, gives Jisung a glass of water to drink up and wipes down the younger.
Both naked, they lay in each other's arms, no space in between them, under the covers.
Jisung places kisses over Minho's chest. Minho hums softly at the ticklish feeling, carding his fingers through the younger's hair and massaging his head.
"Jisung?" He calls out. He gets a hum for a reply, of which he feels the vibrations right at his chest.
"When's the funeral?" He finally asks.
Jisung stills for a second, but relaxes right back into his arms.
He places one peck on Minho's jaw and rests his head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. "Tomorrow."
That night they finally feel at home again.
¤
"Please lower the coffin," the priest says.
The people are all dressed in black. A woman up front cries loudly into her husband's shoulder, he holds her tight as he buries his face in her hair.
Men throw dirt down into the grave as some come up front and throw a flower in to be buried along with the coffin.
The tombstone of the grave reads: "Han Jisung".
"Let's go back," Jisung whispers to Minho, leaning into him, their hands intertwined.
And they do, go back to their cozy home.