Work Text:
Brrrrrrrr.
Seungmin was on the bed, donned in nightwear, and a few chapters deep in this week’s book club book when the nightstand started buzzing.
His cell phone rang loudly atop the wooden table. A glance at the clock showed it was an hour past midnight. He wondered who would want to call him so late in the evening but came up empty. It was why the flashing name on the little screen came as an unpleasant surprise.
Seungmin gulped.
***** 01:18 93% [ ]
Lee Minho
Remind Me Message
( slide to answer )
There were no honorifics, no emojis, just a name. It was not one Seungmin knew him by. In the 5 years they were together, Seungmin had always referred to him as Jagiya. Lee Minho was a name as foreign as curse words on his tongue.
Closing the book, Seungmin took the call.
“Hello?”
Heavy breathing crackled through the tiny speakers. Instead of Minho’s flexible voice, the person on the other line sounded dry and husky as he asked, “Seungmin?”
“Minho-ssi?” The tone of distress straightened Seungmin’s back. “Are you okay?”
“No. Yes. I mean… I’m sorry, I d-didn’t know who to call,” he mumbled. If Minho had minded the honorifics, he didn’t say it. Instead, a flurry of broken sentences filtered through. Minho talked in bits and pieces. Seungmin had to press his ears firmly just to catch phrases; something about snow and Dori and Seungmin being the only vet Minho knows.
“Slow down.” Seungmin was out of bed, hopping on one foot as he put on his socks. “What happened?”
“It’s Dori,” Minho clarified shakily. “She’s hurt. Just get here, please.”
In the time Seungmin had known Minho, never once had he truly neglected his pets. He presumed that if Minho had children, this was how they would be loved; equal parts endearing and suffocating. Which was why Seungmin knew what he needed to do before it even left his lips.
“I’m coming.”
It had been a few weeks since they talked and more since they’d seen each other. As much as he had longed for Minho’s touch, Seungmin was apprehensive to voice it out. A few times, he found himself a thumb press away from contacting Minho but the overwhelming fear of realizing Minho was doing well without him led his fingers to lock his phone instead.
Tonight was different. Tonight, Minho had contacted him, and though a sympathetic part of him was worried that Dori was hurt, a selfish part of him was overjoyed at the chance to see Minho again. Half excited and half ashamed, Seungmin stayed on the call as he grabbed his emergency kit, car keys, and whichever jacket his hands managed to snatch.
“I need you to tell me exactly how you found her.” The car rumbled to life, and Seungmin spent no time waiting for the engine to heat up despite the voice in his head telling him it was bad for his car. Minho needed him to hurry.
“In the balcony. She was buried under the snow. I think I accidentally locked her out.”
Seungmin bit his lips. He had treated many cats in various circumstances: ones who fell 10 stories high and sustained injuries, the common case of feline leukemia virus, and even the occasional hair loss due to ringworms. Though he knew it was possible and had read about it, Seungmin hadn’t come across a cat suffering from hypothermia and possible frostbite in his short career.
“That was hours ago. God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
“Don’t say that about yourself. You are not stupid.” Seungmin had always known how insecure Minho could get despite presenting himself as having a strong mentality. A flyaway promise of always supporting each other suddenly made it hard for Seungmin to swallow. “But I do need you to concentrate for Dori.”
Seungmin took Minho’s silence as compliance.
“Cover her in warm, dry towels. Don’t bathe her in hot water or use a really hot blow dryer. That might make it worse.”
Rustling noises could be heard from the speaker. Maybe some sniffling too, but Seungmin wasn’t completely sure. There were mutters, as if he was either berating himself or begging in prayer. Minho’s restlessness was contagious. Seungmin wanted to drive faster, but he knew the icy roads were dangerous at higher speeds.
“Now what?” And because Minho had always been impatient, not even two seconds had passed before he called. “Seungmin!”
“Inspect her paws. Are any of them swollen? Is there discoloration? Blisters?”
“No.”
“Her ears?”
“No.”
“Tails?”
“Not that I can tell.”
Good. Very little possibility of frostbite. Now they just needed to slowly bring her temperature to normal levels. But Seungmin had to get to her now. There was only so much Minho can do by himself. Everything else required equipment from Seungmin’s kit.
“Keep her warm. Crank up the heater. Don’t put her directly under a vent. Warm up bottles of water and place them near her body.” Seungmin racked his brains of what else Minho could do while waiting, but that was all that came up. And because he wanted to reassure Minho, Seungmin added, “I’m just a few minutes away.”
Radio silence.
Seungmin understood. It would have taken a bit of courage to pick up the phone and call an ex-boyfriend past midnight. A few times, after several shots of soju, Seungmin thought about it. Contacting Minho to ask how he was doing. Inquire about his life. Maybe beg for him back. Seungmin never could, despite beefing himself with large amounts of liquid courage. He admired Minho for doing something he didn’t have the guts to do, even if his precious pets were part of the reason. Seungmin knew Minho was a prideful person, just as much as Seungmin himself. Perhaps more so. This only made his actions more admirable. And so to make Minho feel less embarrassed, Seungmin decided to shorten the conversation.
“Wait for me. Call me again if anything else happens.”
Just as Seungmin was about to drop the call, Minho replied. “Seungminnie.”
He shuddered. It had been weeks upon weeks since Seungmin had heard his nickname caressed out of Minho’s tongue. He said it so softly that Seungmin almost missed it.
“Hm?”
“Please stay on the line,” Minho requested. Like he had done all night, Minho spoke in a very ghostly tone. “I don’t want to feel alone. I might go crazy. You don’t even need to talk.”
Following moments of nothingness, as if he was contemplating, Minho added, “Just hearing you on the line is enough.”
Seungmin had read that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but nobody had told him that it also made the heart more vulnerable to palpitations. Just hearing his name in that familiar manner and then Minho asking him to stay on the line bombarded Seungmin’s eardrums with loud heartbeats. Suddenly, butterflies that Seungmin had long thought migrated began fluttering in his stomach once again.
“You’re already plenty crazy.”
In the time it took to get to Minho’s apartment, Seungmin had rediscovered a few things about himself.
One was that, despite the period he lost staying away from Minho, there still existed a part of him that desired to hold the other in his arms. Maybe he was pathetic for still feeling like this after so long, but his coworker had once told him that true, romantic love never really went away. They just became dormant. They’d fade, they’d wither; but they’d still exist deeply buried under the mound of things accumulated by time.
Seungmin wasn’t certain how much truth that statement held; however, he was certain that whatever he felt for Minho had not gone away.
Another was that, despite how much time had passed, Seungmin still felt like a teenager at the thought of Minho’s presence.
His hands wringing itself when Minho crossed his mind would attest to that. His chest, how it would stir awake just at the mention of the other’s name. Even now, with Minho’s breath audible on the line, Seungmin was simultaneously aware of his own skin while also at an extreme loss of what to do.
Too quickly, he was pulling into the parking garage of Minho’s apartment lot and hauling himself out along with his emergency kit. His fingers moved of their own accord, typing in the code to the entrance as if they had done it just yesterday. The elevator ride to Minho’s floor weakened Seungmin’s knees. It was as if the closer they got, the brittler his bones became.
The path to apartment 2522 was a straightforward one. In seconds, Seungmin was standing in front of the door with a hand in the air. Just as he was about to knock, it opened to reveal a rumpled-looking Minho.
The first thing Seungmin noticed was the headband adorning the other’s forehead. White and with cat ears, the same one Seungmin had gifted on one of their special occasions. An oversized shirt swallowed his torso. His eyes were puffy, a bit reddish perhaps from crying too much; his cheeks had hollowed out more than Seungmin remembered. Had Minho lost weight?
“You’re here,” Minho said. Seungmin noted the tinge of disbelief.
“Of course, I am,” Seungmin replied, swaying on his heels. He readjusted the strap on his shoulder for something to do. “Where is she?”
Minho gestured with his hands, and Seungmin took that as invitation to enter.
Heat greeted Seungmin’s face as soon as he came in. On top of the kitchen island was a bundle of towels that he assumed contained Dori. Sure enough, beneath the pile of white was a heap of black and gray fur. His chest twinged at the scene. Dori’s fur was damp. Bits of hard ice were still stuck to the tips. Just from a glance, Seungmin could confirm that Dori’s heartbeat was slower than normal. Seungmin fixed his glasses and leaned closer. A scan of the ears, paws, and tail proved that Dori was indeed not suffering from frostbite.
“Is she going to be okay?” Minho’s voice was right by his ear. Seungmin had been so focused that he completely forgot Minho was here.
“It’s good that you called me as soon as you could,” Seungmin said as he unzipped his emergency kit and pulled out the necessary tools. “I’ll just have to do a few tests, maybe warm her up from the inside as well, but I think she’ll be alright.”
Minho nodded.
“Do you want to sit down?” Seungmin asked. “It should be fine now.”
Despite the suggestion, Minho shook his head and continued to hover about as Seungmin began to check Dori’s vital signs. As expected, Minho was helpful in the operation. He had provided Seungmin a heating pad and a hair blower upon request, and Minho held the blower the way he was told while Seungmin administered warm water enemas and a stomach lavage to slowly bring her temperature back up.
Fortunately, Dori’s heart rate gradually went up and her fur and skin were dry and near normal to the touch. After half an hour, Seungmin finished the procedure and concluded that Dori was going to be fine despite the cat’s reluctance to move about.
It was satisfying to realize that their teamwork was as good as it had always been.
Later, when it was clear that Dori would be okay and Seungmin had talked about possibly needing to see Dori in the next couple of weeks for check-ins, Minho asked something Seungmin didn’t expect.
“How much do I owe you?”
The question was nearly offensive. Did Minho really think he was doing this for money? That Seungmin didn’t come of his own volition and the desire to help out his ex-boyfriend and his pet?
“Nothing. I’m not going to charge you,” Seungmin replied. “Despite how much I ranted about your pets, I actually am very fond of them, you know.”
Minho bit his lips. Perhaps he was taken aback by the sudden mention of their past. “Then at least let me grab you a drink before you go?”
Seungmin blinked. It was past 2 am. His back was aching from having to crane at an awkward position for nearly an hour. All of his common sense directed him away from this situation, but his heart was overjoyed at the prospect of possibly spending more time in Minho’s presence. And because he had always been susceptible to Minho’s wishes, Seungmin found himself agreeing.
“I could use a beer.”
If Minho felt anything but indifferent, he didn’t show it. It was one of the few things Seungmin had disliked about his ex: Minho was never the type to show his emotions and vulnerability. While Minho fetched a bottle, Seungmin sauntered over to the living area to inspect how the living room had changed. To Seungmin’s surprise, not much was altered. The couch still donned that ugly cream color. Cat fur still littered the pillows and carpet. The TV, despite being ages old, still stood at the same spot Seungmin placed it in years ago.
The main difference was that all of the couple photographs that decorated the shelves were replaced with Minho and his cats.
As if on cue, both Soonie and Doongie approached him and rubbed their faces against Seungmin’s pajama bottoms. Perhaps the fondness that he felt for Minho’s pets was reciprocated. Without hesitation, Seungmin picked up the both of them and placed Soonie on his shoulders while he carried Doongie in his arms. Soon, meows filled the room and Seungmin had to sit down on the sofa to play with the cats more efficiently. Just as he was petting the area behind Doongie’s ears, he noticed Minho leaning against the wall.
“How long have you been standing there?”
Minho shrugged in answer before offering him a bottle. “You like Hite, right?”
That Minho remembered things about him made Seungmin feel fuzzy. Could it be that even now, he still occupied some part of Minho’s mind? “Anything’s great.” Seungmin’s fingers grazed Minho’s at the exchange; they were incredibly warm. Just how hot did Minho’s blood run?
Minho plopped down on the edge of the couch and settled with soju and a toweled Dori on his lap. Awkward silence ensued. The elephant in the room refused to walk away. It was only made worse when, after tolerating the quietude for too long, both of them spoke at the same time.
“Do you want to watch?’
“It’s good seeing you.”
Seungmin gave Minho a tight-lipped smile. It figured that Minho would use a nearly apathetic question to start a conversation. Self-depracating laughter bubbled out of Seungmin. “I’m not really interested in watching right now,” Seungmin answered, taking a swig of his beer. “But I do want to know how you’re doing.”
Minho’s gaze almost made Seungmin recoil.
“I’m great. I’m good.”
“I see.” Perhaps it was the concept of solidarity, or maybe it was his ego, that made Seungmin believe he made an impact on Minho as much as Minho had done to him. Whichever the case, he reckoned Minho would have been as affected by the break up as Seungmin was. It stung to hear that this was not the case.
Seungmin drank half the bottle in one go. He only stopped because Minho cleared his throat.
“How about you? Been eating well?”
Seungmin nodded. The way Minho eyed him suggested he did not buy Seungmin’s answer for a minute. Minho had always been deceptively good at observing others. It wouldn’t be out of ordinary if he noticed just how much Seungmin’s appetite had declined. That he at times required reminders to consume a meal. Or that he had purposefully busied himself with work just so he could be preoccupied.
Minho had looked like he’d wanted to add something. Instead he just stared at Dori and shook his head. “Thank you for coming, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.”
“I’ll always come to you whenever you call.” Seungmin gulped. “You know that.”
He hadn’t realized the truth behind those words until he imagined various situations. In another timeline, perhaps Minho needed help because he crashed his car. Seungmin would have been there. Maybe Minho required a Veterinary note for missing work. Seungmin would have gladly signed papers away. Perhaps Minho was in need of an immediate lift after a date gone wrong. Bitter as that would have been, Seungmin would have swallowed his pride and drove to Minho anyway.
“Seungmin…”
“Did I do something wrong?” Seungmin had to know. He didn’t think he would get a chance to talk with Minho like this again, so he took his shot. His curiosity had been eating him up, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before it consumed him whole. “Was it the way I chewed my food? Did I not satisfy your needs? Tell me how, and I’ll be the perfect man for you.”
Thoughts that kept him up at night gushed out like a river off a broken dam. It didn’t help that he could feel the prickle behind his eyes. Minho’s lower lip trembled. This was the same expression he wore when he told Seungmin that what they had wasn’t working out. That alone made it much harder to swallow the lump forming in his throat.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Minho replied. A tremor on his chin. Deep breaths. A few blinks, perhaps to obstruct incoming tears. “I apologize if I ever made you think or feel like you needed to change. You’re great just the way you are.”
“Then… why?” The last part was more breath than word. Why did he flush five years down the drain? Why did he let their experiences become bittersweet memories? Didn’t Seungmin deserve an explanation for that?
“I don’t know.” Minho kept his eyes at Dori’s figure, as if he was restraining himself from catching Seungmin’s gaze. All Seungmin wanted to do was to have Minho look at him again, watch him, drink him in the way he usually did in between sentences, or during dinner, or when the dull moments in movies stretched for too long. “I know you probably think I’m an asshole. Or an emotionless git. But I do care about you; a lot.
“Breaking up with me was a strange way of showing it,” Seungmin commented bitterly.
Minho glared. And though it was a scathing look, Seungmin allowed himself a moment to relish at finally having Minho's eyes directed at him. “You think this was easy for me? You think I broke up with you because I wanted to?”
“I wouldn’t know, would I? It’s not as if you offered any explanation.”
“I know how much your work means to you. But I also know you'd probably put me first over your own path, and I couldn’t have that.” A challenging gaze from Minho made Seungmin swallow. He wasn’t wrong. Despite their banter, or perhaps because of it, Minho was Seungmin’s favorite person. Was it so wrong to love with his whole heart? Was it not right to give body, mind, and soul to one person, if he so chose? “If they offered you more hours, or moved you to a more demanding position, would you have accepted it?”
Seungmin had thought of it when they were together. Even then, they couldn’t see much of each other because of Seungmin’s schedule. Their moments came in the stolen hours at dawn, when Seungmin would get himself ready and Minho would kiss him goodbye despite only being awake for two minutes. Even the weekends were not sympathetic to their situation.
Had they demanded any more hours from him, Seungmin would not have accepted. It seemed Minho knew the answer too, and Seungmin’s silence only confirmed as much.
“I didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.” A bitter smile. “And l was right. Look at you now! The most sought-out veterinarian in the busiest veterinary clinic in Seoul.”
How did he know?
“Of course I’d know.” Minho scoffed, flushed. “You think I wouldn’t keep tabs on the one I let get away?”
But this didn’t make any sense. Surely, Minho wouldn’t break up with him just because he thought he was holding Seungmin back. Minho had always been the right amount of selfish; he would never be a martyr. Or had Seungmin been wrong this whole time?
“No,” Seungmin argued, biting his lip. “There’s more.” It was more statement than question.
At Seungmin’s comment, Minho’s stilled. His expression crumbled in increments, cracks branching out at each minute movement.
“I make just above minimum wage being a law firm secretary. Some extra cash from my dance instructor gigs. Not exactly the best person to bring home to your parents,” Minho laughed humorlessly before gesturing at Seungmin. “And you. You’re the golden boy. You’re a vet. Haven’t you thought for a second how that would look to your family? Haven’t you wondered how other’s judgmental looks would make me feel?”
Was that what Minho had always been insecure about? That he didn’t measure up to Seungmin? Or that he was somehow lesser just because people measured their worth in how much they can fill their bank in an hour?
“I don’t care what people think.”
“But I do!”
“Well, they can go fuck themselves.” Curses coming out of Seungmin’s mouth were few and far between. He wanted, needed, Minho to know that when it came to him, Seungmin was neither fickle nor insincere. If there was ever anything Seungmin was certain of, it was what he felt for Minho. “They’re wrong. There’s a reason you’re my favorite person in the world.”
“...”
“You’re caring. And kind. And it’s the type of genuineness that doesn't boast,” Seungmin explained. “You’re amazing.”
Shadows hung on Minho’s gauntish face. He avoided Seungmin’s eyes. Even when Seungmin approached and lifted his chin, Minho refused to look at him. There was a tiredness there that Seungmin wasn’t familiar with. They had aged a decade in the months they spent apart. It made him wonder if he, too, wore lines that Minho didn’t recognize.
“Can you please look at me?”
Maybe it was Minho’s own volition. Maybe it was the desperation that tainted Seungmin’s voice. But finally, he gave Seungmin a glance. Amber eyes had never looked so clear, so easy to adore. They were deep and warm despite the cloudiness; like sunrise.
“I’m still so in love with you.”
Admitting it was simultaneously freeing and unnerving.
It was like the chains that dangled behind his steps had finally disappeared but the aftereffects of hauling it for so long had made his ankles seize up every half a step. The thought that Minho no longer felt the same frightened Seungmin, but in the months he spent isolated from the world, he came to realize that fear was much easier to handle than loneliness.
“If you don’t feel anything for me anymore, then I won’t bother you. But I don’t want you to let me go just because of other people’s opinion. If you want to release me, do it on your own terms and not someone else’s.”
Minho only looked. Come on, Seungmin told himself. He hoped Minho could read on his face the words he threatening to spill out of his mouth. Fight for me. Fight for us.
The refrigerator hummed. Chatter from outside trickled its way through the crevice between Minho’s door and the floor. Minho, ever the non-conformist, stayed silent. It was answer enough. He was as disappointed as he was heartbroken. He knew… He thought for sure Minho would…
It didn’t matter. If this was what Minho truly wanted, then Seungmin had no choice but to accept.
With a defeated sigh, he stood up and walked away. He didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Would probably stay here forever if he did.
Seungmin had a hand on the doorknob when arms wrapped around him from behind. Minho pressed himself along Seungmin’s back, leaned his forehead against the wide space between Seungmin’s shoulders, and took a harrowing breath.
“Don’t go.”
Some said a picture was worth a thousand words, some said ten of that. But Seungmin thought that that severely undermined their value. To Seungmin, two simple words were worth five years. They were memories made inside hallways or under the shade of a big oak tree. They were mornings wasted in bed and evenings spent pressed up against shower tiles. They were raised voices and cold shoulders and enduring sleepless nights in the living room.
They were the answer to the question that had been hanging between them this whole night.
Seungmin turned to gather the other in his arms. The grip on Seungmin’s back tightened as Minho rested his head on the crook of Seungmin’s neck. His emotions raged like roaring waters, heartbeat echoing in his ears like waves against a cliff.
The fluorescent lights had witnessed their embrace. Quiet sniffles were the only noises in the otherwise silent night. Too long had he gone without Minho’s touch; Seungmin had to reacquaint himself with how hot Minho’s blood ran.
“I missed your warmth,” Seungmin whispered into his hair.
“Me too,” came the stifled reply. Minho surfaced, red-cheeked and glassy-eyed. “Your heat. Your supple skin. God, I even missed your fucking smell.”
Seungmin snickered in disbelief. Until now, he found Minho's sharp tongue strangely endearing. Like most times, it took no effort to get lost in Minho’s pout and pale scarlet ears.
Minho was gnawing at his lips as he made a request. “Please stay the night.”
And like Seungmin had mentioned before, he had always been susceptible to Minho’s wishes.
“Okay.”
“What are you doing?”
Minho was toweling his hair as he asked. Droplets of water still adorned the ends of the strands. He had looked aghast at Seungmin's actions. Embarrassed, Seungmin continued laying out the blanket on the carpet without looking back at the other. “I’m… being respectful by sleeping on the floor.”
He knew they were civil now, but being civil and being back together were two completely different things.
“Why must you make this awkward…” Minho commented. Seungmin could almost hear the roll of his eyes. Just as Seungmin placed a pillow on his makeshift bed and sat down, another pillow landed next to his with a soft thud. And then Minho was crowding his space and taking up half the blanket.
“If you’re going to sleep on the floor, then I want to spend the night on the floor with you,” Minho had said with nonchalance, as if he was bringing up the weather or mentioning his next weekend plans. Seungmin had nearly forgotten how charmingly straightforward Minho could be.
“You’re ridiculous.” With a shake of his head, Seungmin lifted Minho onto the mattress. “If we’re going to spend the night together, might as well do it somewhere comfortable.”
Minho smirked as if it was his plan to get Seungmin in bed all along. Knowing him, it probably was. Minho was lavishly spread on the duvet in his silk pajamas and porcelain skin. Seungmin couldn’t tear his eyes off him as he laid himself down. The bed dipped. The comforter rustled. Minho was framed by the soft light of the bedside lamp, and if Seungmin could have his way, he’d kiss the places where the warm yellow made Minho’s skin look almost golden.
And have his way, he did.
Minho had gasped when Seungmin’s lips touched his chin. And then again when Seungmin’s lips reached his cheekbones. And nose; the tip of it and then the bridge. His jawline. Eyelids. Even the lobes of his ears. When Seungmin bit at it, the way he knew made Minho squirm, Minho immediately succumbed to the pleasure and hung onto Seungmin’s neck to bring him down with him.
“I want you,” Minho whispered as he carded his hand at the back of Seungmin’s head, playing with the short hairs of his nape. Minho’s pants were hot and heavy between them. “I always want you.”
“Me too.”
Kissing Minho was as natural as breathing. Despite the time lost in between, Seungmin’s lips did not forget how it liked to suckle at Minho’s. How it bit and sucked and swept. Minho’s hands were everywhere: at Seungmin’s shoulders, on his hips, and on the dip of his back when his shirt was discarded.
It should have been cold. The temperature should have been freezing shirtless. The winter had made it a habit to creep through the walls at night. Instead, Seungmin was warm all over. And it was exactly because Minho was touching the correct spots, as if his fingers remembered exactly the places that Seungmin’s skin desired to be pushed and pulled and pressed.
Minho’s tongue had always been wild. And it hadn’t changed when Minho licked into his mouth; Seungmin had become accustomed to his flavor again. They were still on their sides when Minho turned so that his back was pressed right up Seungmin’s front.
“Please,” Minho murmured, gazing at Seungmin over his own shoulder. “It’s been so long.” Minho pulled down his pajama bottoms and underwear, his bottom naked and on display. Seungmin’s member twitched where it was restrained by his briefs. The desperation was apparent in Minho’s tone as he added, “I haven’t. With anyone.”
Seungmin tongue swiped at his lower lip. He palmed himself through the fabric before pulling the garter down to reveal his already leaking length. He spat at his fingers to wet Minho’s entrance before doing it again to his own member.
“Me neither.” Seungmin held himself by the shaft, aiming his head between Minho’s cheeks such that the spongy flesh kissed Minho’s damp hole, but only just. They didn’t move; Seungmin didn’t thrust forward, and Minho didn’t push back. Instead, they were content with Minho incrementally shaping itself to Seungmin’s wet tip.
They spent impossibly long minutes rediscovering each other. Seungmin’s hands traveled all over; the inside of Minho’s strong thighs, his collarbones, the divots of his abs, his fleshy neck, anywhere Seungmin’s fingertips could reach. They locked lips over Minho’s shoulders. The angle made it difficult, but it made Seungmin giddy that Minho was willing to be in discomfort just to have his lips on Seungmin.
Much later, Minho had naturally loosened. A ton of precum had oozed from Seungmin’s slit, and it had somehow eased his way in. The whole tip was now tightly gripped by Minho’s walls, no longer putting up much resistance.
Still they did not push; they waited and waited until Minho’s entrance swallowed a couple of inches. And when Seungmin could slide without much force, Minho was first to shove himself back until Seungmin was driven to the hilt.
Minho had always liked the burn; Seungmin knew this. But it was so much more pronounced tonight, with Minho’s voice reaching notes higher than Seungmin had ever heard him. They were almost fully naked now, Minho in nothing but his socks, Seungmin with his underwear just rolled down enough so that he could fuck.
His hand snaked its way to Minho’s nipple, playing with it while Minho worked himself on Seungmin’s member. Seungmin found himself biting Minho’s shoulder to refrain from whining. The speed at which Minho fucked himself on Seungmin was mind-numbing. Too much time had passed since Seungmin’s length was this wet. This stimulated. This hot. He hadn’t been this hard in weeks that he almost forgot the pure bliss of fucking a tight hole.
“Seung-” Minho gasped.
“Yeah?”
“You’re perfect. I haven’t felt this full in so long-”
A groan escaped Seungmin’s lips as Minho ground himself onto Seungmin as he said it.
“Toys don’t compare,” Minho admitted, voice straining with effort. The steady slap of wet skin was accompanied by the creak of the bed springs. Seungmin wondered if anyone could hear them and figured probably not. He didn’t even know what time it was anymore; too lost in Minho.
“This hole is just right for me, isn’t it?” Seungmin commented as he gripped Minho by the hipbone and rocked themselves together. Minho’s hand had found its way to Seungmin’s hair, clutching at it as they stared into each other. It was pain and pleasure and everything that embodied their relationship. “I’m ruined.”
And because Seungmin needed to emphasize just how much, he repeated it in between thrusts. “I’m ruined. You’ve ruined me, jagiya.”
Perhaps it was the confession. Or maybe it was the term of endearment that did Minho in. Regardless, Seungmin was certain Minho’s moan could be heard in a crescendo from the hall. White fluids shot out in strings. So many of them, pearly and warm, like paint splashes on a canvas. Through it all, Minho had clamped up with each release, and Seungmin was nothing short of a madman as he chased his own climax. It had been only seconds before Seungmin followed through, jerking uncontrollably as he spurted much of his seed inside Minho. For a second, he wondered if Minho could feel the faint thrum of Seungmin’s cum hitting his walls. But the thought disintegrated into wisps as Seungmin shut his eyes to experience nirvana before slowly blacking out from the intensity.
It had been years since Seungmin fell asleep so quickly after an orgasm; it was probably the first time with Minho, Seungmin could no longer remember. When his eyes opened again, Minho was on the verge of covering themselves with the blanket. A quick glance down showed that both Seungmin and Minho were only in their underwear. His privates didn’t feel sticky, and Seungmin presumed Minho had taken the liberty of cleaning him.
As Minho settled on top of Seungmin’s arm, Seungmin couldn’t help but pull him in until his chest felt the warm press of Minho’s back. This was his favorite part of bedtime, fitting together like puzzle pieces and inhaling that fruity scent.
Seungmin kissed Minho’s nape the way he did every night when they were together. And because he needed to know, Seungmin asked, “Can I come back home?”
Minho reached for Seungmin’s hand and fitted their fingers together. “Will you promise to still be here when I wake up?”
As if he’d want to be anywhere else. “I promise.”
“Then yes.”