Archive of Our Own

“You like em’?” Jisung asks, spinning around in a circle so Minho can see his new platform boots from every angle. Minho nods, not looking away from his phone screen. He’s playing a very interesting game of virtual Boggle.

“You’re not even looking, Min.” Jisung whines, walking towards Minho. Jisung’s feet clunk against the tile of the kitchen floor as he walks. He plucks Minho’s phone out of his grasp, turning it off, before shoving it in his back pocket.

“Yah!” Minho yells, finally looking up at Jisung.

“I’m not giving it back until you compliment me.” Jisung states, his chin held high. Minho sighs, before reaching around Jisung, groping at the fabric of his jeans to find his phone. He ends up getting a handful of ass instead, and Jisung giggles coyly, slapping his hand away. Minho glares at him, patting around to get his phone, before giving up and slumping back down in the kitchen chair he’s seated in.

Jisung points at his boots with his eyebrows raised high in expectation. Minho gives a hearty eye roll before focusing his gaze on Jisung’s new shoes.

Jisung owns a lot of shoes. He probably has at least three pairs of those stupid chunky Converse. Minho knows, because they topple off the shoe rack every time he slams the door too hard. He has a pair of the Fila grandpa tennis shoes that look like marshmallows on his feet, and a pair of shiny black Prada boots that probably cost more than everything in Minho’s closet.

Jisung normally wears just socks in the house, but now his feet are clad in shiny black Doc Martens. They’re platforms, and the thought of Jisung being taller than Minho makes him frown.

In all seriousness, the boots flatter Jisung’s skinny legs. His toes point together like an anime girl’s, which juxtaposes the style of the shoe. Somehow, Jisung makes it work.

Jisung lifts his leg, pressing the new and clean sole of his new boot to Minho’s knee. He pushes a bit, making Minho’s leg fold outwards. It leaves his legs spread.

“If you don’t compliment me, your phone won’t be the only thing you’ll lose.” Jisung smiles evilly. His foot is poised above Minho’s crotch like he’s about to stomp on him. He’s obviously kidding; he would never purposefully hurt Minho.

Regardless, a shiver of… something runs up Minho’s spine. He hopes it’s fear. He really hopes it’s just fear.

Minho looks up at Jisung’s smirking face, his own eyes wide. Jisung’s expression falters, and he brings his leg back down, staggering to keep his balance.

“Hey- I’m sorry, did I joke too far?” Jisung says gently, a concerned frown overtaking his features. Minho flushes and shakes his head.

“Uh- no it’s fine. Your boots are cool, Sung.” Minho chokes out, pointedly ignoring the blush on his own cheeks. He stands up way too quickly, and the blood rushes to his head. He gives an awkward smile in Jisung’s direction, and then walks briskly to his room, shutting the door with too much force.

He sinks down to the ground, back against the door. Minho runs his hands down his face, letting out a quiet groan. What’s his deal? It’s just Jisung. Why is he so flustered all of the sudden?

A soft knock at the door behind his back startles Minho.

“Hyung?” Jisung’s muffled voice calls out. “Um. I still have your phone. I’m gonna slide it under the door.”

And true to his word, Minho’s phone slides against the laminate floor, zooming past where Minho is sitting, dully bumping against his foot. Minho turns his head. He can see the shadows of Jisung’s new boots from underneath the door.

Jisung stands there for a few more seconds, before turning around and walking away.

“T-thanks, Jisung!” Minho calls out after him. He doesn’t respond.

-

Minho rattles his doorknob, double checking to make sure his door is locked. He walks to his desk, plucking his laptop from the surface, and flopping down on his bed. He opens his laptop, and perches it on his thighs comfortably.

Minho pays no mind to all of his open tabs, and pulls up a private browser. He wastes no time, typing out the URL for his favorite porn site.

Jisung has already left for his night classes, so Minho should be fine. He’s totally alone.

Minho’s eyes are suddenly assaulted with oiled up bodies and Viagra ads. He grimaces, and clicks out of all the popups. He views the top videos on the home page of the website. Minho usually just defaults to whatever is popular, but tonight, his nose is scrunching in disgust at the titles.

“Busty Brunette POV Blowjob, HUGE Load!”

“Stepsister Gets Railed!”

“Anime Succubus Tentacle Fuck 4K!”

Minho sighs. He goes up to the search bar, and types in “Twink”. The results load onto the page. He scrolls down the page, before finding a video that piques his interest.

It’s simply titled “Korean Twink BDSM”.

Minho clicks on the video.

The speakers of Minho’s laptop spew out filthy sounds as the video starts. There’s no preamble, the two are already going at it after the company’s intro. Minho squeaks, and turns the volume down on his computer.

He blinks slowly at what he sees on the screen. It’s a close up of a guy sitting in a chair. He’s dressed in business clothes- neatly pressed slacks and a button down. The other guy is completely naked, and kneeling below him on the floor. Business Guy’s pants are undone to reveal his unfairly large cock, and Naked Guy is sucking him off. He’s moaning loudly. Weirdly loud for someone who’s just giving a blowjob. Does he have a vibrator or something? Minho looks closer, and then-

Minho lets out a gasp.

Business Guy’s dress shoe is flush against the naked length of the other man’s cock, and he’s pressing his foot down, squishing the flesh underneath it. It pushes up against his stomach with the force.

Minho gasps. His cock twitches from inside his pants, and he can feel the heat rush to his stomach.

“What the fuck.” Minho whispers to himself, enthralled in the video. The well-dressed man looks bored as the other sucks his cock, but his small groans say otherwise.

Minho is only a man. He can feel himself chubbing up in his pants from the video. The guy on the floor slurps loudly around the other man’s cock, making Minho’s eyes go wide. He looks like he’s having the best time of his life.

Minho picks up his laptop, and places it at the foot of his bed. He scooches up, and shimmies his pants down over his hips. His dick bounces out from the confines of the fabric. Minho is embarrassingly hard from just watching the short clip.

Minho moans at the first touch of his hand to his aching cock. His hands are cold in comparison to the heated skin.

“Ah-” He moans out as he fully grasps himself; his face scrunching up in pleasure. It’s been awhile since Minho has had alone time. He feels so… sensitive. He trails his hand up his cock, thumbing over the small bead of precum at the tip. Minho looks back up at the screen to see the well-dressed man thrusting into the other’s mouth. Minho whines along with the man on the floor. He can’t fathom how much practice it would take to deepthroat something that big.

The guy on the floor lets out a broken sob as the other man nudges the toe of his dress shoe under his balls, stepping onto them hard. Minho’s cock twitches in his grasp; another pearl of precum beads at the slit of his cock. Minho feels his cheeks grow red, and he slams his laptop shut. The moaning ceases, and he’s left with the sound of his own heavy breathing.

“Ugh!” Minho groans, covering his face with his hands, and flopping back down onto his bed. The uncomfortable feeling of shame settles in his stomach. Really? Cockstepping?

Minho spends what feels like ten minutes (but is probably only two) thinking about dead puppies before he gives up. His boner isn’t going away, and all the puppies are doing is making him sad. He frowns, uncovering his face and glancing at his erection with disdain.

Minho sighs in defeat and reaches his hand down to grasp his cock once more. He hisses quietly through his teeth at the contact.

Minho lets his thoughts drift away from boner repellant to more pleasant things. He imagines his own hand on his cock is someone else’s. The hand jerks him off slowly; teasingly. Minho’s breath hitches as he trails a single finger up his shaft, and circles it around the head.

He teases himself for a while; shivering at the slow building pressure, but it’s not enough. Minho sighs, and firmly grasps himself. He starts slowly, but gains speed as his patience diminishes.

“Good boy…” The imaginary voice in his head praises him. Minho whimpers. It sounds familiar, but Minho can’t place it. Minho moans as he speeds up, flicking his wrist on the upstroke. The imaginary voice hums in approval. Minho closes his eyes. He sees a tan hand with two silver rings, and a handsome face looking back at him. He’s smirking. It kind of looks like...

“Jisung!” Minho moans out.

Minho’s hand freezes, and his eyes go wide. That’s… not what he was expecting to come out of his own mouth. To be completely fair, Minho has a bit of a thing for Jisung. It’s just a little crush! Nothing extreme. Nothing worth moaning his name during your explicit sexual fantasies.

Minho shakes his head. He shouldn’t be thinking of his roommate in times like this. It’s kind of… scummy feeling. Minho tries to clear his mind. He thinks back to the porn video, ignoring the bubbling shame in his stomach.

Minho experimentally gives his cock a tight squeeze, and moans loudly at the feeling. Would it really be so bad to be… stepped on? Would it hurt? Is Minho in the wrong to admit that he kind of... wants it to hurt?

Minho whines in the back of his throat, and bucks up into his fist. The amount of precum he’s leaking aids the slide and makes his cock slick and shiny in the low light of his bedroom.

Minho looks down at himself, pressing his cock against his stomach with the palm of his hand and squeezing. He sighs, throwing his shame out of the window, and giving into his own twisted desires. He imagines a black dress shoe in place of his hand. It’s just like the guy’s shoe from the video. Minho gasps, squeezing harder as he imagines the shoe pressing down onto his cock.

The dress shoe he imagines morphs into a shiny black boot, and that boot connects to a skinny leg. Minho whimpers out a moan as he imagines Jisung’s face staring down at him.

Goddammit.

Minho groans. Thinking about his roommate in this context is bad enough, but thinking about Jisung doing such dirty things to him is even worse. Minho kind of feels like shit for submitting fantasy Jisung to this.

But then again… it’s all just a fantasy. Jisung never has to find out about Minho’s weird crush or his newfound weird kinks. Minho is home alone. He’s an adult, for fucks sake! He’s allowed to indulge in his sexual fantasies all he pleases.

He sighs, sinking back into the mattress. Imaginary Jisung is still there, and he’s smirking. Minho wants to wipe that smug look off his face.

Would Jisung be weirded out if he found out about Minho’s kinks? Would he humiliate Minho, or be sweet?

Minho’s brain opts for a mix of the two.

“You look kind of pathetic like that. It’s cute. I almost feel sorry for you.” Imaginary Jisung croons. Minho feels embarrassment bubble up in his stomach at the words. As soon as Minho thinks to talk back, Jisung’s boot is pressing down ever-so-slowly on Minho’s dick.

Minho whimpers as he jerks his slick cock in the silence of his bedroom. He squeezes himself to mimic the feeling of Jisung’s boot.

“I could just… crush you right now. I bet you’d let me. Would you like that, hyung?” Fantasy Jisung asks.

It’s the familiarity of it that pushes Minho over the edge. The “hyung” is the cherry on top. It just sounds so… real. Minho lets out a stuttering gasp as cum leaks out from between his fingers, and drips onto his stomach.

He lays there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow and ignoring the growing shame he feels after what he just did. Minho’s head jerks up as he hears the front door to their apartment open, and then shut. He sees the hall light flick on from under the gap of his door, and hears clunking footsteps heading to the kitchen.

Jisung is home.

Shit, did he really take that long to get off? Minho scoffs at himself, shaking his head and grabbing a tissue to wipe the cum from his hand and stomach. He needs a shower.

Minho figures Jisung is probably eating in his room or the living room by now, so he doesn’t bother with a shirt. He pulls his briefs over his now soft cock, and opens his door. The air is noticeably cooler in the hallway than in his room. It feels nice against his sweaty skin. Minho makes his way to the bathroom, passing the kitchen on his way.

“Hi, hyung.” Jisung says through a mouthful of chips. It startles Minho, and he jumps before turning around to see Jisung sitting on the kitchen island. He’s swinging his feet like a child, and to Minho’s horror, he’s wearing The Boots.

“...Hi Jisung.” Minho says quickly, and turns back around to go to the bathroom. He wants to get out of here as fast as possible, but Jisung stops him again.

“You always yell at me when I walk around half naked- what gives?” Jisung says, a frown evident in his voice. Minho suddenly remembers that he’s only in underwear. It’s nothing Jisung hasn’t seen before, but Minho feels like he’s going to explode if Jisung looks at him any longer. Minho doesn’t know if he’ll be able to make eye contact with Jisung or his shiny black boots for a while- considering what he just vividly imagined them doing.

“What did you do while I was gone, hyung? Get up to anything fun?” Jisung says. He’s smirking. Minho doesn’t even need to look at him to know.

Minho doesn’t answer his question, instead he power walks to the bathroom, still avoiding Jisung’s gaze.

“Get your ass off the counter- we eat there!” Minho shouts, before slamming the bathroom door shut. He drowns out the sound of Jisung’s laughter with the spray of the shower.

-

Jisung does not stop wearing the boots. In fact, they seem to be all he wears nowadays.

Is it possible to feel like an inanimate object is mocking you? Perhaps threatening you with it’s mere presence? Because that’s exactly how Minho feels.

Minho tries so desperately to keep his eyes on the TV. He really does, but Jisung’s feet are kicked up on the coffee table, and Minho can’t seem to drag his eyes away. All he can see in his head is the vision of Jisung pressing that boot down onto his cock. Minho suppresses a shiver.

“Why are you wearing shoes in the house? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” Minho asks after a minute. He hasn’t retained a single detail from the film they’re watching. It’s some random action flick Jisung put on after they had dinner.

“I’m trying to break them in. The leather is really stiff when you get them, so you have to wear them a lot before they’re comfortable. I have blisters on the backs of my ankles. It sucks, dude!” Jisung moans in pain. Minho snickers.

“Do they… bother you? You’re always looking at 'em like they killed your cats or something.” Jisung says, quieter this time. Minho flushes to his neck. Shit.

“No! No, I don’t have a problem with your shoes, Jisung. I just… I like them is all. They look nice on you.” Minho bullshits. It’s not a total lie- they do look very nice on Jisung, but he’s looking at them for a totally different reason. Jisung turns to look at him, a huge smile on his face.

“Awwww, hyung! Maybe I’ll get you a matching pair for your birthday, we can be twinners!” Jisung grins. Minho snorts out a small laugh.

“Yeah... Maybe.” Minho says, finally turning his attention to the screen.

-

Minho is worked up.

Jisung was very touchy before he left for his afternoon class today. He was all over Minho, basically sitting in his lap on the couch. Minho had to physically push him off so he would go to class. He groaned all the way out the door.

Minho is usually used to Jisung’s need for skinship, but he hasn’t come to Minho like that in awhile. He must be having a bad week or something.

Regardless, Minho was not prepared to have a lapful of boy today. Minho will admit that he is pretty touch-starved on the daily basis, but having Jisung curl up on him like a big lapdog just solidifies the fact that Minho is very lonely and very horny for his best friend.

Minho digs through his underwear drawer. It’s all blacks and greys, so it’s kind of hard to find what he’s looking for, but soon his fingers find delicate lacy fabric. He pulls out the pair of panties from his drawer. They’re a little wrinkled, but they will still do the job.

He quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, and pushes his sweatpants and briefs down, letting them fall on the floor. He’ll pick it up later. Minho steps into the panties, pulling them over his thighs, and his semi-hard cock. His cheeks heat up. He gets hard so easily, it’s kind of embarrassing. He pulls at the fabric, making sure it sits right against his ass. Cheeky, but not too cheeky.

They don’t cover… much, but Minho still feels sexy as he looks at himself in the mirror. His ass looks great, and the mesh fabric on the sides accentuates his hip bones. The tip of his cock is starting to peek out of the top of his panties.

It makes sense. They are not built for men. Minho purchased the underwear on a whim. He bought them the last time he went to the mall with Seungmin- quickly dipped into a lingerie store, and picked the first pair he saw. He was red for the rest of their shopping trip.

Minho lets out a little whimper as he drags the tip of his finger around the head of his cock. He teases himself- one hand coming up to pinch one of his nipples.

“Hah-” He moans. His cock is straining against the tight lacy fabric. His hips jerk forward, rubbing his cock against the rough texture.

Minho flops back onto his bed. His sheets are a refreshing cold against his overheated skin. He reaches down, and cups his cock over the fabric. He squeezes himself, moaning at the sensation. Minho tends to like things a little on the rougher side. The way the lace scratches against the skin of his pelvis feels so good. He’s sensitive all over. Every movement feels like fire in his stomach.

Minho’s mind drifts back to Jisung and his stupid fucking shoes. It’s all his fault- if he hadn’t threatened to step on Minho, he would never be here in the first place. Minho’s brows furrow. Stupid Jisung. Stupid… sexy Jisung.

God.

Jisung’s smug expression pops into Minho’s brain. Is it such a crime to enjoy the humiliation of Jisung staring down at Minho like that? Sue him. He wants it all.

Minho lets out a loud moan as he touches himself over the fabric. What would Jisung’s hands feel like instead? They’re about the same size as Minho’s, maybe a little bigger. The thought makes Minho shiver, but he files his growing size kink away for future reference.

He thrusts up into his own hand, letting his hips do the work, and moaning at the feeling of the lace dragging over the skin of his cock. He almost doesn’t hear the clunking footsteps from the hallway outside his door.

Shit.

Shit. Fuck.

Jisung is home early.

“Hyuuuuuunggggg!” Jisung calls, pounding a fist on his door. Minho gasps, fear shooting through his veins. He rushes to cover himself with his blanket. Jisung knows better than to barge in, but he can never be too safe.

“Hyung, come play video games with me. Class ended early.” Jisung whines from outside the door.

“Um- I’m kind of busy right now-” Minho starts, but Jisung just groans louder.

“Minhooooo, c’mon, don’t you wanna hang out with your favorite person?” Jisung says. Minho can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. Minho doesn’t answer.

“I’m not leaving until you come out of your room.” Jisung states, and Minho hears him flop down on the floor. Minho sighs.

“Okay- okay. I’ll come hang. Just… give me a minute.” Minho compromises. He feels anxious shivers run down his legs. That could’ve been disastrous.

Minho quickly gets up and plucks his clothes from the floor. He slips his t-shirt over his head.

“Hyung is taking so long…” Jisung whines from the hallway.

“It’s literally been like- five seconds, Jisung. For fuck’s sake.” Minho says back as he pulls his sweatpants over his hips. He can hear Jisung quietly mocking him in a high pitched voice.

Minho tugs his shirt down over his crotch, hopefully hiding his erection. He’s wearing black, it’s kind of hard to see, but who knows where Jisung will be looking.

Minho creaks open his door to reveal Jisung sprawled out on the floor. His blank expression brightens into a smile as he sees Minho.

“Minho!” He chirps out with a bright smile. Minho suppresses his mild annoyance at being interrupted, and gives a light smile back to Jisung.

“D’you wanna play Mortal Kombat?”

-

Their gaming session starts out innocent enough. It doesn’t last long.

Jisung defaults to his usual sexy lady character on the selection screen. Minho can’t be bothered to learn any of the names. It’s not that he doesn’t care- he just likes seeing how angry Jisung gets when he refers to them as “the green bitch with the tits” or “muscle guy”.

Minho takes his time on the character selection screen. Jisung’s character’s head and shoulders bob back and forth in an idle animation while he picks.

“Dude. Just pick.” Jisung groans.

“You know I’m only going to take longer if you rush me.” Minho says. He lets out a small gasp as Jisung’s hand grips onto his thigh. It’s way too high up for comfort. Jisung shakes his leg back and forth in his grasp, probably just trying to annoy Minho, but Minho’s thighs are… sensitive. He can’t help the way his cock twitches in his lacy panties at the action.

Shit, Minho never changed back into his normal briefs, did he? He was in such a rush that it slipped his mind. It’s fine. They’re hidden under his sweatpants- there’s no possible way Jisung could see them or know Minho’s secret.

Jisung seems to notice how Minho is completely frozen. He stares blankly at the screen as he tries to will his boner down. It’s not working.

“Hyung, you okay?” Jisung murmurs, looking at Minho with concern. Minho just swallows, nodding his head and trying to relax. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

“M’kay.” Jisung says, still sounding skeptical. He gives Minho’s thigh one last hearty squeeze, and then retracts his hand. Minho lets out a breath he didn’t know he was even holding.

-

Once Minho (finally) picks his character, they begin to play. The living room is filled with action music and fighting sounds.

Jisung wins the first round. And the next. And the next.

Minho frowns, his grip on his controller loosening as he watches his character’s neck get snapped on the screen. Jisung lets out a happy squeal, his hands dropping his controller to flap around in his excitement.

“How.” Minho says dryly. Jisung just laughs.

“It’s called having skill, hyung.”

“I’ll fucking show you skill…” Minho says.

-

Minho eases into his plan slowly. He starts by scooching over on the couch in small increments. Jisung doesn’t seem to notice- which is good. Minho is all up in his personal space by the mid-point of the round.

He enacts the next phase of his plan.

When Jisung is distracted, he puffs a small breath of air right into Jisung’s ear.

“Hah! Dude…” Jisung laughs, but he squirms in his seat. Minho smirks.

The end of the round consists of carefully aimed jabs to Jisung’s ribs. Jisung whines after each one, telling Minho he isn’t playing fair. They’re almost tied up near the end, but it’s the tickling that seals Minho's win.

“Minh-ooooooo! Stop, dude- Hah! I’m gonna lose, no!” Jisung wheezes out between fits of laughter as Minho uses one hand to jab his wiggling fingers into Jisung’s ribs. Jisung watches in horror as his character’s spine gets broken over the knee of Minho’s character.

Minho lets him go, and Jisung catches his breath as he watches the end game screen come up. It proudly displays Minho’s win in big bold letters. Minho looks way too proud of himself.

“You-” Jisung starts. His eyebrows are shot up past his hairline. “You fucker!” He laughs incredulously. He reaches a hand out to jab into the soft spot in Minho’s neck, but Minho swiftly dodges out of the way. Minho squeaks out a laugh as he rolls off the couch, ducking Jisung’s attacks.

“You’re a dead man!” Jisung screeches. Their game is long forgotten, as Jisung sets his sights on torturing Minho instead.

Minho pushes himself off the floor, and crouches down into a ball so Jisung’s wiggling fingers can’t reach his sides.

“Oh, so you can give it, but you can’t take it?” Jisung giggles, stomping over to where Minho is curled up. He uses the toe of his boot to lightly kick at Minho’s shins. He doesn’t do any damage, but it makes Minho fall backwards. He lands on his back with an “Oof”.

Suddenly, Jisung is grabbing his ankles. He yanks Minho’s body across the wood floor, making him slide closer to Jisung. He lets out a giggling squeak, trying to crawl backwards, but Jisung raises his foot, and gently places the sole of his boot against Minho’s sternum. He doesn’t use any pressure, but the gentle weight of having something pressed to his chest makes Minho’s breath hitch.

Oh no.

“I think you’re taking this way too seriously.” Minho tries to reason, but Jisung just laughs sardonically. He’s like a movie villain. Minho doesn’t like this one bit.

“I don’t take cheaters lightly.” Jisung replies.

Jisung rests a little more weight on his foot. He’s smirking, but Minho has gone dead silent. Jisung pays his frightened expression no mind. They’re still play fighting, right? Jisung doesn’t seem to register the change in Minho’s mood. He trails his foot up Minho’s chest until the toe of his boot reaches Minho’s chin. He presses it to the skin of his jaw, angling Minho’s head upwards to look at Jisung.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
Minho whimpers at the action. He’s ignoring the heat in his stomach. He’s praying it’ll go away before Jisung notices it. He’s been half hard since he left his room, and Jisung’s thigh grabbing and… whatever this is definitely isn’t helping.

“Are you done being a little shit?” Jisung smirks. Minho clenches his jaw and doesn’t respond. He’s too busy silently praying for Jisung not to look down.

What the fuck does he even say in this situation?

“Hm. Guess not.” Jisung purses his lips and pushes Minho’s head to the side with his foot. His eyes start to trail downwards. Minho goes into panic mode.

He squeaks, drawing Jisung’s attention back to his face. He grabs his black t-shirt tightly in his fists, and pulls it over his crotch; hopefully hiding his erection from Jisung.

Jisung’s eyes dart down to where Minho’s hands are clutched tightly in the fabric of his shirt.

Plan failed.

“Hyung.” Jisung starts, an eyebrow raised. Minho opens his mouth, and then immediately closes it. He doesn’t know what to say. He can feel his cheeks glowing red, and they match Jisung’s.

Jisung takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, and then opens them.

What is going ON right now?

He trails his foot down Minho’s chest. His boot hovers above Minho’s hands. Jisung uses the toe of his boot to nudge them out of the way. Minho sucks in a small breath, but reluctantly moves his fists, dragging the hem of his t-shirt with them to reveal the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

Jisung’s lets out a soft gasp from above Minho. Minho covers his face with his hands and lets out a small embarrassed whine. He feels shame bubbling up in his stomach, but it’s doing nothing to deter his erection. Jisung isn’t helping either- his foot is hovering above Minho’s dick. Minho just wants him to-

Oh.

Minho lets out a gasping moan as he feels Jisung’s boot curiously press down on the bulge in his sweats. Minho slaps a hand over his own mouth, but he’s too late to stop the loud and embarrassing sound from escaping his lips. He peeks through his fingers, only to see Jisung with his mouth hanging open, and a look of dangerous curiosity in his eyes.

Jisung presses his foot down once more, and Minho is quick to muffle his groan. Jisung pushes his hair off his forehead.

“You… like this?” Jisung says, almost too quietly. Like he’s afraid to break the tension.

“...S-shut the fuck up!” Minho sputters, already leaning up to push Jisung off of him, but Jisung’s foot pins his chest down to the floor. He smirks. Minho knows that look, and it’s not good.

“I wouldn’t be mouthing off like that if I was in your position, hmm?” Jisung says in a low voice, dragging his foot back down to Minho’s crotch. Minho whimpers. He’s never seen Jisung like this. He’s so… dominating. It’s stange, but good. Definitely good. Minho can feel himself growing even harder under Jisung’s shoe. When Minho doesn’t reply, though, Jisung seems to falter. His dominating act falls apart for a minute.

“Is this… okay? You’re good with this, right?” Jisung hesitantly asks.

“Yeah. Yes. It’s… good.” Minho stutters out in response.

“It’s good?” Jisung smirks.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” Minho groans.

“No, I don’t really. Tell me. What do you like about it? How is it good?” Jisung questions, this time, with a little more sincerity. His foot presses down ever so slightly, making Minho’s breath hitch.

“I like um… the pressure. And feeling like… I’m at someone’s mercy.” Minho squeaks out. This is so embarrassing. Jisung hums in response.

“And…” Minho says, almost a whisper. He’s not looking at Jisung. “It’s different when it’s… you. I don’t want a stranger to step on my dick. That’s weird.”

“Sooo… It would be the same if Seungmin stepped on you? Or Chan?” Jisung questions. There's something teasing about the way he says it. It almost feels like a trap. Minho is silent, but Jisung’s foot presses down like a warning.

“N-no…”

“So… This is just for me to see, hm?” Jisung smirks. He takes his foot off of Minho, and sits down on the couch. His legs are spread wide, and Minho’s eyes widen at the bulge in his jeans.

Jisung follows Minho’s line of sight, and blushes, pulling his shirt down to cover his erection; much like Minho had done previously. It makes Minho feel a bit better- like he’s not the only one who’s embarrassed. It’s the good kind of embarrassment, though. The kind that thrums through your veins and makes you jittery. Maybe it’s more anticipation than embarrassment?

Minho is distracted from his thoughts as Jisung brushes a gentle hand through Minho’s hair, pushing it off of his forehead. He makes a small whimpery sound in the back of his throat, and pushes up into Jisung’s hand. Fuck. Why did he do that.

But Jisung doesn’t seem to care. If anything, he seems enthralled by Minho’s behavior from the last five minutes or so.

Jisung’s hand falters, but continues the petting after a moment. It’s relaxing. Minho almost forgets he’s on his knees, eye level with Jisung’s cock. His roommate’s dick. His best friend’s penis.

God. He’s pathetic.

If Minho plays his cards right here, he can turn this awkward encounter into something more.

He doesn’t have to work very hard, though, because Jisung speaks up.

“Can… I see you?” Jisung asks, almost shy. Minho blushes.

“Like… see me?” Minho squeaks out. Jisung nods. Guess there’s no cards to play on his part; Jisung is doing all of the heavy lifting.

“Okay.” Minho whispers, biting his lip. He’s nervous. This is the first time they’ve ever been sexual with each other. They’re not even really touching, but something about it feels extremely intimate. Jisung brushes his bangs out of his eyes, and Minho brings his hands to the waistband of his pants- but he hesitates. Jisung is tolerant of Minho’s other… quirks, but who knows what he’ll think of what Minho is hiding under his sweats.

“Oh, so you’re getting shy now?” Jisung smirks. Minho blushes. Yes. He’s getting shy. “C’mon, it’s just me.”

“You’re gonna laugh…” Minho says quietly. Jisung frowns.

“I’m not gonna laugh at you; I promise.” Jisung says with sincerity. Minho lets out a breath, but nods his head. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants reluctantly, and slowly pulls them down over his hips.

The way his hard cock strains against the black lace of his panties should be embarrassing, but Jisung’s reaction makes up for it. He lets out a gasp, leaning back on the couch and pressing a palm to his erection through his jeans.

“Shit, Minho…” Jisung groans. It makes Minho blush. He didn’t think Jisung would react so positively.

‘God… you look…” Jisung starts, his eyes trained on the lacy material. Minho stares back at him with wide eyes.

“I look…?” Minho questions hesitantly.

“Really fucking hot.” Jisung finishes. Minho lets out a quiet whine in response. It makes blush rise to both of their cheeks.

“Can I…?” Jisung starts. He doesn’t need to finish. Minho understands, and he nods. He wants it so bad.

Minho gasps as Jisung trails the toe of his boot up the length of his cock, before pressing down on the tip. His movements are gentle and slightly unsure, but the rough texture of the rubber sole is unfamiliar on Minho’s sensitive skin; even through his underwear.

Jisung’s eyes are wide, and his mouth is open slightly in awe of the sight before him. Minho looks absolutely wrecked, and Jisung has barely done anything. Experimentally, Jisung presses the sole of his boot slightly harder against the hard flesh underneath it, and Minho shudders, letting out a shaky whine as his shoulders slump forward.

“Shit…” Jisung thinks, and then quickly realizes he’s said it out loud as Minho lifts his head to look at him. His bottom lip is red and shiny with spit, like he’s been biting it. His eyes are watery- Jisung almost calls it all off now, but Minho whimpers out a tiny “Please…” That makes Jisung twitch in the confines of his jeans.

“You really like this, huh?” Jisung asks, a smirk slowly growing on his features. Minho flushes scarlet and looks away, crossing his arms. “It’s okay. You can talk to me.” Jisung smiles. When Minho doesn’t look up, Jisung reaches down to thread his hand in Minho’s hair. He caresses his head, and then fists his hand in the silky strands, pulling his hair, and forcing Minho’s head upwards so he’s looking at Jisung. Minho’s eyes widen in surprise, as he’s not expecting the sudden force. Jisung presses his foot down ever so slightly, making Minho’s mouth fall open in a breathy “Ah….”. It’s almost like driving a car- one foot on the pedal, and one hand on the wheel. Jisung stifles a laugh at the thought.

Minho leans forward, resting his cheek on Jisung’s thigh. His breaths are heavy, and Jisung can feel the warmth of them seeping through his pant leg.

“You’re not gonna talk?” Jisung murmurs, stroking Minho’s hair softly. Minho looks away, too embarrassed to face Jisung. He tightens his grasp in Minho’s hair every so slightly; almost like a warning. Minho squirms where he’s kneeled on the floor. His hand is gripped around Jisung’s ankle, but he’s not pushing Jisung’s foot away or pulling it closer.

“Minho.” Jisung says warningly. Minho bites his lip and turns his gaze up at Jisung instead of the floor he was so focused on before. Minho opens his mouth, and then closes it. He doesn’t know what to say. Jisung’s eyebrows furrow, and his expression softens.

“Do you want to stop?” He says gently, cradling Minho’s face in his palm. Minho pauses.

Does he want to stop?

This is all so sudden. Just 10 minutes ago, Minho and Jisung were acting like normal best friends would, and now Minho is pressed to the floor by Jisung’s boot.

What’s going to happen when Jisung takes the boots off, and Minho puts his sweats back on? Are they just going to go back to their rooms and pretend all of this never happened?

Jisung wouldn’t do that, right? Minho has bared himself to him- hell, he’s literally at his mercy right now. Jisung isn’t the type to just… drop someone like that, but he isn’t the type to talk it out either.

Fuck it. Minho can take a few days of awkwardness before they talk it out. He wants this, and what happens after is seeming less and less important as Jisung strokes the pad of his thumb over the swell of Minho’s cheek.

“I don’t wanna stop.” Minho says. He ignores how his voice cracks. Jisung looks relieved.

“Okay. Okay cool.” Jisung laughs somewhat awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, and then ruffles his hair into place. “Um… what do you wanna do?”

“You obviously know what I wanna do.” Minho deadpans. Jisung’s eyes dart down to where his foot rests on Minho’s cock, and quickly looks back at Minho’s face. He blushes in embarrassment.

“Well- yeah but like… I don’t know! I can multitask!” Jisung stutters. Minho snorts out a small laugh.

They grow silent as Jisung strokes his hand through Minho’s hair. It’s calming, and Minho can feel the warmth grow in his chest.

“I like when you tell me what to do…” Minho nearly whispers after their moment of silence. Jisung looks surprised.

“Oh... You do?” Jisung blushes. “Cause like- other people, they usually hate that. Um.” Jisung stutters. “I can do that.”

Jisung runs his hand through Minho’s hair while he speaks. Minho plops his face back down on Jisung’s thigh once he finishes talking, and Jisung smiles at him. Minho can feel the heat emanating from Jisung’s body. It makes his blushing face even warmer.

Jisung’s hand trails down the side of his head, rubbing his thumbs behind his ear, and cupping his hand around the back of his neck. He slowly pulls Minho forward, so he’s eye level with the bulge straining against Jisung’s zipper. Jisung looks almost sheepish.

“Ok?” He murmurs, as his hand leaves Minho’s neck, and goes to the button of his black jeans. Minho nods. Very okay. He pops the button of his jeans with one hand, and slowly drags down the zipper. Minho grabs the waistband of his pants and shimmies it down as far as it will go. Jisung’s foot leaves the floor, nudging the toe against Minho’s balls from over his panties. Minho gasps, his hands stuttering against Jisung’s pants.

“Did I say you could touch?” Jisung murmurs low. Minho pauses, and then shakes his head.

“Hands behind your back, baby.”

Minho moans at the pet name. It sends heat down his stomach, and he can feel himself leak into the black lace of his panties. He drags his hands down Jisung’s thighs, and then clasps his hands behind his back obediently.

Jisung strains against the gray fabric of his underwear. Minho takes it all in for a moment. Jisung looks almost too good- his hair is a mess, and his complexion has been getting redder and redder over the course of their… activities. Minho leans forward, and boldly nuzzles his nose against Jisung’s cock. Jisung gasps, his hand coming down to grab at his hair. Minho pokes his tongue out, and shyly licks at the wet patch at the head of his cock. Jisung’s hand twitches in his hair, almost like he wants to pull, but is holding himself back.

“You can pull.” Minho quietly mumbles into the gray fabric. Jisung groans, and then his hand tightens in Minho’s hair, pulling at the strands. Minho quietly gasps.

Minho leans back from Jisung to get a good look at him. His hair is tousled, and his cheeks are seemingly stained a permanent red. Minho is sure he looks worse- he’s basically kneeling naked on the floor, and he probably has a huge wet patch on the front of his panties. Jisung smirks at him. Minho’s eyebrows furrow. Bastard. He knows he’s hot.

“Pull em’ down, hyung.” Jisung says. It’s quiet, like he’s unsure of himself, but he still wants it.

Minho almost hesitates, but throws all shame out the window as he leans forward and bites down on Jisung’s waistband. He slowly pulls his head downward, dragging the fabric with him. It gets stuck halfway down, revealing the light trail of hair at the base of Jisung’s cock. Minho whines in annoyance, jerking his head to tug the fabric down.

“Help.” He murmurs into the gray fabric between his teeth. Jisung looks like he’s holding in a laugh, but he’s merciful, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband. Minho leans back, letting the now wet fabric drop from his mouth as he watches Jisung slowly drag his briefs to his mid-thigh. His cock bounces up, curving against his hip, and leaving a shiny patch of wetness against his hip bone. Minho whines quietly in the back of his throat.

Jisung’s hand leaves Minho’s hair, and grasps him by the jaw, pulling him forward, so his nose is nearly pressed to the underside of Jisung’s cock. He taps the side of his cheek with his finger.

“Open.” Jisung says, and Minho’s mouth falls open obediently. Jisung grasps his cock by the base, guiding the wet head into Minho’s awaiting mouth. He taps it against Minho’s tongue, which is lolled out lewdly.

“God…” Jisung breathes out. He’s never seen Minho like this. Minho isn’t a submissive person- quite the opposite, actually. Seeing him on his knees for Jisung is doing things to his head.

Minho leans forward, taking the head of Jisung’s cock into his mouth, and licking wetly over the tip. He takes about half of Jisung’s length in his throat, using his tongue to do the rest of the work.

Jisung squirms under him, trying his best not to thrust up and hurt Minho. It’s very difficult. His mouth feels heavenly against Jisung’s sensitive cock.

Jisung suddenly remembers he’s also supposed to be doing something, and his foot returns to Minho’s cock. He rubs the toe of his boot slowly up and down Minho’s length; not applying much pressure.

Minho moans around his cock. It sends a shiver up Jisung’s spine. He can feel small movements against his shoe. Minho is grinding against it.

Shit.

Jisung throws his head back. That’s so hot. Minho is so hot.

Minho moans as he sinks down, taking almost all of Jisung down his throat. Jisung moans too, but the sound he makes echoes against the walls of their small living room.

It gets wet and messy pretty quick. Without a hand at the base of his cock to stop it, spit trails down his cock and onto his balls. Minho seems to notice, because he pulls off and licks a broad stripe from his thigh to the tip of his cock. He sinks down almost all the way, and swallows around Jisung.

“Hyung- fuck, ah-” Jisung stutters. His hips stutter too, almost choking Minho in the process. “Can- can I fuck your mouth? I’ll be gentle.” He asks. Minho looks up at him through his lashes, before pulling off Jisung’s cock. A string of saliva follows him.

“If you choke me, I’ll bite your dick off.” Minho says, before sinking down once more. He looks up at Jisung, presumably waiting for him to start.

“Tap my thigh or slap me or something if you need me to stop, okay hyung?” Jisung says. Minho rolls his eyes, but nods anyway.

“Don’t get smart with me, hyung. I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge.” Jisung smirks as his hand tightens in Minho’s hair. He uses his grasp in the strands to bring Minho’s head forward on his cock. Minho whines as the tip hits the back of his throat.

Jisung starts slow. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Minho. The amount of self control it takes not to just thrust into the tight wet heat of Minho’s throat is immense, but Jisung manages.

He gently works his hips into a slow rhythm, but stops as Minho pulls off.

“You don’t have to go that slow. C’mon, I’m not fragile.” Minho almost snaps. He’s getting impatient. He wants to be ruined, goddammit!

“Hyung likes it rough, hm?” Jisung smirks. His teasing tone makes Minho shrink back a tad. Jisung hums. He pulls Minho back to his dick, and presses it against his lips. It’s obscene. Everything is wet and shiny with the mix of Minho’s saliva and Jisung’s precum. Minho doesn’t hesitate to take Jisung back into his throat; like he was made to be there.

Jisung’s grip in Minho’s hair turns harsh, and Minho whines at the harsh tugging. The pain sends fire to his stomach. Jisung uses his hold on Minho’s hair to drag him down onto his cock. Minho almost chokes, but he breathes through his nose slowly. Jisung gives him a minute to settle in, and then thrusts into his mouth.

Minho’s moans are broken apart by the cock abusing his throat, but he still sounds absolutely filthy. He only gets louder when Jisung presses his boot down on his cock. He’s peeking out of his panties again. The tip of his cock is red and shiny against the black rubber.

“God- look at you.” Jisung whines. “So perfect. Such a good boy for me.” Jisung babbles out. His balls slap against Minho’s chin as he fucks his face. Minho rolls his hips up into Jisung’s shoe at the praise. He isn’t going to last long, and Jisung seemingly isn't either.

Minho has to pull off of Jisung’s cock as Jisung presses his foot down- hard. It hurts, but it hurts so good. It sends a thrill up Minho’s spine. He feels absolutely filthy, and he loves it.

“Shit- c’mere.” Jisung huffs out, and grabs the back of Minho’s neck. He drags him up off the floor to straddle Jisung’s lap. Minho blinks slowly, and wipes the wet mess from his lips with the back of his hand.

Jisung grabs the sides of his panties, and yanks them down, exposing Minho’s hard length. He’s dripping and bright red. Jisung feels like drooling.

He pulls Minho forward by the hips, and they both hiss when their cocks come into contact. Jisung grabs both of them in his hand and squeezes. Minho’s hands scrabble for purchase against Jisung’s shoulders, and he rolls his hips forward into Jisung’s slick grasp. It’s so dirty, but it’s so good.

“Shit- I’m close.” Jisung groans out, tucking his head between Minho’s neck and shoulder. Minho just whines in response and jerks his hips faster.

Jisung’s hand trails down his back, and grabs a handful of his ass, pushing him forward. Minho lets out a stuttering gasp, and he’s coming all over their cocks and Jisung’s hand. It’s so warm and slick, and suddenly Jisung is coming too. He shoots all over his hand, and all over Minho’s t-shirt.

Minho sits in Jisung’s lap, twitching and breathing heavily. Jisung isn’t much better. He pants against Minho’s neck, resisting the urge to bite down and mark him. Minho brings his hand up and runs it through Jisung’s sweaty hair. It’s a little gross, but he doesn’t mind. Jisung melts against him.

They sit like that for a while, but soon their cum starts to dry. Minho leans back. His whole face is red, and he won’t meet Jisung’s eyes. Jisung uses his clean hand, and tips Minho’s chin up.

He means to say something encouraging, but all coherent thought is lost when he sees Minho’s soft pout and red face.

Jisung should’ve thought twice before leaning in to kiss him. He really should’ve.

Minho squeaks, his grasp tightening in Jisung’s shirt, but then he sinks into the kiss.

It’s… really nice.

Jisung kisses Minho gently. He takes his time- the wet smacks of their lips fill the room for much longer than they probably should, given they’re both sweaty and covered in cum.

Minho finally leans back, his giggles forcing them apart.

“This is great, but you need to go wash your hands.” Minho laughs, shoving Jisung’s surprisingly solid chest. Jisung whines, but shuffles out from underneath Minho. He pulls his underwear up with his clean hand, and waddles over to the kitchen to wash his hands.

Minho grimaces as he pulls off his cum-stained shirt. He’s never been naked in their living room, but hey, there’s a first for everything. He pulls the panties off of his legs as well, and steps into his sweatpants. Shirtless and commando is better than totally naked.

When Jisung comes back, he’s holding two bottles of water and a clean t-shirt. He tosses the shirt at Minho. It’s one of Jisung’s- that stupid Supreme tee he always wears. Minho slips it over his head. He would complain about the brand, but it’s soft and smells like Jisung, so he has nothing to say.

Jisung sits next to him on the couch, and hands Minho a bottle of water. He accepts it appreciatively, unscrews the cap, and gulps half of it down. Jisung sips on his own, albeit much slower. This situation holds none of the awkwardness Minho was expecting. It’s.... good. Jisung snickers from beside Minho.

“What?” Minho asks quietly.

“Soooo… Cockstepping, huh?” Jisung smirks.

Minho jabs him in the side.

“Ow!”