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“Please.”
The words are whispered into the crevice of Minho's neck, Chan's breath hot against his skin. Chan's hands twitch and hover over Minho's waist, his canting hips just shy of brushing against Minho's thigh.
Arousal pools in the pit of Minho's stomach from how desperately Chan's panting more pleas into his ear, but he keeps up the facade of indifference.
He hums to let Chan know he was listening though, hands busy turning to the next page of the book in his lap.
“Are you holding yourself back, Channie?”
Chan nods, hair flying over his face from how frantic the movement was.
“I am-“ Chan starts to mumble, but falters when Minho shoots him a look. He squeaks and tries again, this time much louder. “Yes. I am. You said not to- not to touch. M’not touching. I’m not.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, finally closing the book and setting it aside on the nightstand. He realizes belatedly that he forgot to put a bookmark, but he knows it’s a lost cause because he hasn't been processing a single word in it anyway.
Not since his needy little boyfriend got home thirty minutes ago, begging to touch him as he crawled up the bed.
Minho suspects something had gone wrong at work, and his first instinct, as always, was to worry and ask what was wrong. But then Chan had whined before he could even get a word out, shaking his head.
“I know my safeword.” He had whispered before pressing a reassuring kiss to Minho's parted lips, and that was that. His worries were sated for now, knowing it couldn’t have been that serious because he trusted Chan not to keep something like that from him. Though he'd definitely grill him later, Chan needed to be taken care of right now.
And what better way to take care of a needy little thing, if not to make him cry and milk him dry?
Chan perks up at the action, probably thinking Minho was going to give him what he wants now. But giving Chan what he wanted wasn’t taking care of him. It was spoiling him, something Chan frequently gets away with because of how weak Minho was to him. But the last thing Minho wanted right now was a spoiled brat in his hands, especially not when it was this needy.
Chan knew this, but that doesn’t stop the whine from coming out of his mouth when he sees that Minho doesn't make any other move. Minho sighs at the sound despite the heat coiling in his lower belly.
“Are you really holding yourself back, baby?”
“Yes! I’m not touching!” Chan exclaims, a touch more irritated now at having to repeat himself, and Minho turns to look at him with a disappointed frown.
“You’re not touching me but you’re humping the air like a bitch in heat. You can’t even sit still? I was reading, Chan. And you were distracting me. Need to have your cock somewhere warm so that whiny mouth finally shuts up?”
Chan gasps, visibly shuddering from the words alone. He abruptly stops canting his hips, but the way his cock twitches in his sweatpants and the visible wet patch was more than enough proof of how affected he was.
Minho tuts. “You’re not being very good right now.”
“No- no, no,” Chan protests, head shaking frantically. “I’m good! I’m being good!”
“You’re being loud,” Minho hisses, glaring. “Do you want to wake up the neighbors with your pathetic whining?”
“No, no, m’sorry, please.” Chan's eyes glaze over with unshed tears, but they don’t fall. Instead his shiny plump lips twist up into a pout, appealing to Minho's softer side with more pleas. “It- it hurts. I need to cum. You said I could cum if I didn’t touch, but you- you haven’t been paying attention to me because you were reading and- and it hurts-“
“Okay, shhh. Okay.” Minho soothes before Chan could get any louder, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips to quell his cries. Minho pulls away just as Chan's tongue swipes against his bottom lip, and Minho bites back a smile at the offended gasp. “Take your cock out, baby. Come on. You want to cum, right?”
Chan moves immediately, shimmying his pants down his thighs without compromising his place next to Minho. His pants only get to about halfway down his thighs, but it’s enough to free his rock hard cock from its clothed confines. The sizeable length slaps up against his stomach, leaving a glistening smear of precum just below his belly button.
Minho clenches at the sight, very acquainted with how it felt inside him. Chan had fucked him until his knees gave out against the shower wall just this morning, but that felt like ages ago, and Minho longed to feel Chan mold his walls into the shape of his cock again.
But. That wasn’t the goal here. Right now, the goal is to make Chan cum hard enough that he forgets whatever the hell happened today.
Chan whines again when Minho just continues to stare, hips bucking up impatiently, making his cock bob. Minho shoots him another stern glance.
“Do you want me to open the windows so everyone out in the street hears how much of a slut you’re being? I’m not going to touch you until you shut up.”
Chan must be so worked up now because a lone tear finally escapes and trails down his cheek at the warning, teeth digging into his red bottom lip. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet. Channie will be quiet. Please please please touch me.”
Minho coos, a little bit fond but definitely a lot more condescending. It clearly goes straight to Chan's cock, if the fat drop of precum that beaded at the tip was anything to go by.
“It’s so wet,” Minho exhales in awe, fingers just barely shy of Chan's twitching cock. It stood tall and proud, flushed tip leaking with how turned on he was. The lack of friction must be bordering on painful right now with how his cock took on an angry shade of purple, but Chan obediently keeps his hands by his sides, fingernails almost tearing the sheets open.
Minho smiles, feeling something akin to pride bloom in his chest. “That’s my good boy.”
Chan inhales a shuddering breath at that, glazed eyes looking up at you pleadingly. Minho decides to take pity when another tear escapes from the corner of his eye, and the resounding gasp Chan lets out once Minho's hand fully wraps around his cock makes the decision worth it.
Minho doesn't waste any time. Considering that Chan was leaking so much, all it took was a couple strokes for his hand to be slick enough to build a steady rhythm. With every upward twist to his cockhead, Chan moans, head thrown back from pleasure.
Minho is busy teasing the head with his thumb when Chan suddenly jolts and grabs his wrist, effectively stopping Minho's movements. Minho loosens his grip immediately, worried.
“What’s-“
“Wait, ngh- wait- I don’t want to cum yet. Please wait.” Chan gasps out, but he doesn’t take Minho's hand off his cock. Minho's brows furrow, making Chan shy away from his questioning gaze when he adds, “I want to cum inside you.”
Oh.
Fuck.
Chan makes it so hard to hold back sometimes, and the throbbing between his legs was proof of that. Minho bites back a groan and squeezes his thighs together, grabbing onto any semblance of control left inside him.
“Oh, baby.” Minho coos again, but his voice gets drowned out by Chan's yelp as Minho squeezes the base of his cock tight. “Who said you get to decide that, huh? You were being bad earlier, and now you think you can just demand to cum inside me?”
Chan lets Minho's wrist go, whining, “I wasn’t- I was- ah, ah, I was good!”
“And now you’re lying to me.” Minho sighs, stroking faster now. Chan squirms against the sheets, barely holding himself back from fucking up into Minho's fist. “Look at you. You don’t need my ass to cum at all. Any hole is good enough for you, right? Maybe you don’t even need a hole. If I just let you continue to hump the air, would you cum from nothing?”
“No, no no no no that’s not true-“
“And you’ve got such a pretty cock, too. So thick and so. Fucking. Long.” Minho groans, slowly dragging his hand back and forth from the base to the tip, feeling every vein and every ridge. Then he tsks. “Too bad you don’t know how to use it.”
“Oh, fuck fuck fuck. Keep ah- ngh, going, keep going Minho, please- don’t stop-“
“Chan…" Minho starts, tone disappointed, and he's just about to take his hand off Chan's cock when Chan cuts him off with a sniffle.
“I just wanted your attention! You kept reading that stupid, stupid book instead of looking at me and I know you would- you would be distracted if I kept moving so I-“ Chan gasps when Minho squeezes his cock again, encouraging him to continue while also effectively distracting him. “Wanted you to look at me. Only me. Just look at me.”
Minho grins, smothering Chan in a messy kiss that he greedily accepts. Chan pants into Minho's mouth, slick lips sliding together as Minho sucks on his eager tongue. Minho loses himself in the kiss, as he always does with Chan, but when Chan makes a guttural sound at the back of his throat, he remembers the task at hand.
“Now that wasn’t so hard to admit, was it.” Minho praises quietly, nibbling at his boyfriend’s jaw with a newfound hunger. “Come on, baby. You definitely have my attention now. Fuck into my hand and make yourself cum.”
“But-!” Chan's protests get swallowed by his own moans when Minho's hand picks up the pace again, twisting and squeezing and tugging just the way you knew Chan liked.
“I know, I know, you’re very, very good for admitting it, but you were still bad earlier.” Minho sighs sadly, but there’s a smirk on his face when he says, “you cum now with my hand or you don’t cum at all.”
At the words, Chan's hips immediately buck up, fucking his cock into the tight space of Minho's slick hand. He was a sight like this— face pinched in pleasure, dark hair a halo over his head as he frantically chased his orgasm, using Minho's hand to get off like he couldn’t just flip him over and easily demand control himself.
No, Chan was giving up control right now, placing his pleasure and trust in Minho's hands. Minho reveled in the fact, feeling dizzy with power and love.
“That’s it, just keeping fucking my hand like that, Channie. Imagine it’s my tight hole, hm?” Chan moans at that, losing his rhythm now. “You always fuck me so well, too. Feel you all the way up in my belly when I sit on it. You’re lucky it’s so big, or else it’ll be useless since you don’t know anything aside from jackhammering like a desperate little slut.”
“Fuck!”
Chan grunts, pale skin flushed red all the way from his chest up to the tip of his ears. His legs kept bending and stretching, unsure whether to tense up or relax as his toes curl. His eyes have gone all glossy, and the drool down his chin was a product of his inability to keep his mouth shut, panting loudly like a dog. There was sweat— tears?— dripping down his red cheeks, glistening lips scrambling to form words.
He looked stunning.
“I’m gonna cum- gonna- oh, fuck fuck. Shit. M’so close. It feels good, feels- feels too good- I-” Chan whines, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. Minho watches with a parched throat as Chan's hands come up to his own chest and head, one hand plucking at his nipple and one hand tugging at his own hair, clearly at a loss on how to ground himself. “I’m so close, Minho please! Please please please let me cum!“
Minho relents at Chan's desperate wail, meeting his thrusts now as he uses his other hand to thumb at his other nipple.
With a whisper, Minho commands, “cum for me, hyungie. Cum inside me.”
Chan's mouth parts into a silent scream as ribbons of cum shoot out of his throbbing cock, some of it even landing as far as his chin. Minho continues stroking as Chan keeps cumming, wanting him to ride out the pleasure more than anything else.
Chan only starts to make noise again when he starts to get sensitive, cock slowly dripping out the last of his release. Minho bit his lip at the sight, knowing how warm that would have felt inside him. Maybe next time.
Minho slows the movements of his hand as soon Chan's noises get quieter, too tired to protest the overstimulation. Minho pulls his hand off Chan's cock as gently as he could, but he still catches sight of a wince. Minho hushes him, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder in an effort to soothe.
Minho looks away for a moment to clean his soiled hand, but when he looks back Chan has already melted down on the bed, hair covering his face, chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.
Minho's heart swells.
“Baby,” Minho whispers after a few minutes of cooling down, gently smoothing Chan's curly hair away from his sweaty face so you could see him. “My pretty baby. You did so well. Can I get a color, hm?”
Chan's eyes flutter open at that, dopey smile blooming on his face as he leans into Minho's touch. Minho smiles back. “Green. So, so green. Thank you. I-“
Minho frowns when Chan suddenly cuts himself off, hiding by turning his flushed face into the palm of your hand.
“Hey, you know you have to speak up when we’re in this space, right?”
Chan whispers a yes into his palm, so Minho waits patiently for him to collect himself. It takes a while, but when Chan finally musters up the courage, he pulls back with a lick of his lips and a brand new glint in his pretty eyes.
“I want to keep going. I wanna- I want-“ he swallows, eyes flickering down to where Minho's sleep shorts had ridden up, showcasing his thighs. Minho blink, confused.
Chan decides to move instead, pushing you backwards until Minho drops down on his back with a gasp. He settles in between Minho's legs, eyes flicking up from Minho's crotch to his slowly understanding gaze.
“I want to taste. Want you all over my tongue. Can I? Please?”
Minho's eyes darken, watching contentedly as Chan impatiently but obediently waits to dive in. He’s clearly antsy to get to it, plush bottom lip bitten cherry red as he practically salivates at the thought of Minho in his mouth.
So with a fake exasperated sigh, Minho uses his foot to push Chan down, tangling his fingers in Chan's dark locks once his head is right between his thighs. Minho tugs once, and Chan moans from where he’s wetly mouthing at Minho's through his shorts.
“Well, since you asked so politely.”