Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jisung always thought he knew exactly what love looked like growing up. 

He had a good example. Two parents whose love was still as bright as the day they meant, a picture perfect marriage that made Jisung giddy and excited to grow up and find his other half. 

There were a lot of pit stops on the way— some highschool romances, girls who made Jisung feel dizzy and like a man in love. Small experiences that made him feel on top of the world. But none of them, not a single woman, made Jisung feel the rush like he did. 

Jisung never denied his sexuality. He knew that he checked out men he passed in the hallways the same he did the women, and he was okay with that. But there was still a sense of hesitance to making a move, scoping out the wrong person, picking up the wrong vibe. He wasn't ashamed of being biseuxal, but he would be ashamed of hitting on a straight man and dealing with those repercussions. 

He thought it was destiny when met Min-Jun. 

Jisung could've sworn it was fate. A long night spent at the library, studying for an exam to pass a class he hardly cared about. The man had downed the maximum amount of caffeine doctors recommend within the first hour, and found himself wandering towards the vending machines to get another. 

Digging into his pants for any spare change, he pushed each coin into the slot, absentmindedly looking at the energy drink he was craving. He didn't notice when his pocket got light, no longer weighed down with the coins, and slowly realized he didn't have enough for the drink.

"Dammit," He mumbled, patting himself down in hopes of finding the last bit he needed. With no luck, his finger jammed into the return button, waiting for his change to jingle down the machine. 

It didn't, Jisung standing idly as he pressed the button repeatedly. 

"My last few coins, seriously?" Jisung huffed, hands flying to rub over his face, "Fuck this place.."

“Need help?” A voice spoke behind him, Jisung turning to meet a man holding a singular bill, with a smile so bright it made his heart stutter.

It was history from there. A late night at the library that ended up with Jisung waking up in the man’s bed, and didn’t have the willpower to leave for a week straight. Min-Jun was nothing like he dreamed— but he was somehow better. 

He always paid, made sure to surprise Jisung with dates, showered him with gifts and words of affirmation. It couldn’t get any better than that, he always thought. This was where he was meant to be, in the arms of the love of his life. 

This is what his parents prepared him for. To be consumed with love, so willing to drop your walls and let somebody in and see the worst and best parts of you. To push away your fears, and allow yourself to fall into a bed of roses and imagine a future with the person you love most.

What Jisung’s parents didn’t prepare him for was the pain. 

The end of the honeymoon phase, is what his mother jokingly called it. But the honeymoon phase had fizzled long before Min-Jun turned into the man he was now. The end of the honeymoon phase was supposed to mean you were comfortable, domestic bliss as you lived your lives apart and came home to each other at the end of the day. 

This wasn’t that. 

This was anger. Anger that Jisung had never experienced before. He wasn’t a golden child— his father would scold him, ground him, sometimes even a gentle smack on the back of his head when he was being too loud with his mother. But it always comes from a place of love, discipline that would follow him and make him a better person. 

This wasn’t love. 

Jisung learned a year into their relationship how short of a fuse Min-Jun had. How quickly he could snap from one person to the next— how harshly he was ripped back into reality when that sweet, loving boyfriend turned into someone filled with so much rage, he couldn’t think straight. 

It was never physical, that’s what Jisung was thankful for. But there were enough nights spent with insults and venomous words being shot towards each other, he almost wished it was as simple as the man putting his hands on him so he had an excuse to leave. 

Because the next day, when they put their feelings to bed and they fucked their emotions away, it was good again. For weeks, Min-Jun would go back to normal. Shower Jisung with the love he hadn’t felt in a while, and make him feel special enough that he couldn’t leave, and buy him a gift. 

“You know I love you, right?” Min-Jun would whisper into his curly hair, lips pressing against temple, his nose, traveling down to his lips for a passionate kiss, “I know I’m difficult. And I can’t thank you enough for putting up with it.”

Putting up with it. Enduring it. Enduring the endless hours Min-Jun would scroll through Jisung’s phone because he stared at the waiter for a second too long. Enduring the way he’d brush Jisung’s hand off his arm when he was too friendly with the cashier. But Jisung was never allowed to acknowledge the way Min-Jun playfully winked at the man who lived next door, nor the fact that he’d find articles of clothes that didn’t belong to either of them when he slept over.

“I love you more than anything,” Jisung would mumble back, holding back tears as his hands moved to grip the man that showed him what love was like, “You just need to be a bit nicer to me..”

“For you? Anything. I’ll change, I promise..”

Promises are what kept Jisung going. Because as long as his boyfriend acknowledged the pain he was causing, that meant he knew where to start. It’d be a long road, but surely at the end of it all, there’d be his prize.

A life. A life with Min-Jun. Filled with happiness, love, and a family of their own. Something to show for their years of struggle— something to prove that, through all the pain, there was something worth it at the end. 

The first time he left was their second anniversary. A day that Jisung had circled on the little calendar beside his bed, hearts decorating the box with pink squiggles surrounding it. He got up early to shower, get himself as dolled up as possible, and wrapped up the gifts he had saved up for his boyfriend. 

And all day he waited. Because Min-Jun handled the plans, the reservations— he’s the man of the relationship, he always said, that was his job. Jisung was never to raise a finger, never to take control. 

He thought it was a joke at first. The fact that the man was radio silent all day, not even a good morning text or a little post to show the world their little achievement. Jisung thought it was because of a surprise, something so big it took the man’s attention away from him. 

But by the time bedtime rolled around, with still no text, he gave up. Took off the outfit he spent too much money on, and curled up in bed as he tried not to soak his sheets with his tears. His eyes stayed glued to the perfectly wrapped gift box, looking over the red bow. Min-jun’s favorite color, clashing against the green of the wrapping paper he chose. 

“How deep.” Jisung mumbled to himself, chuckling at how poorly the colors bounced off the other, a color palette that reminded him of cheesy Christmas sweaters and decorations. 

“Just like us, huh?” He continued to speak aloud, “We only work together sometimes.” 

Like a sign, his phone screen lit up, the contact photo of Jisung squished so close to his boyfriend taking over the screen. His eyes are bright, his smile wide, bouncing perfectly at the candid shot of Min-Jun laughing. 

Jisung just stared. 

Stared at how happy they looked on paper. How easy life was when the selfie was taken— on their second date, he took Jisung to a carnival and won him the bear that was cuddled under his arm. 

He let the phone ring, watching it dim back to black after he refused to pick it up. Another ring vibrated the room, piercing his ears as his fingers jammed the decline button. 

Minjie <3  9:57 pm 

I fucked up. I got the days mixed up. Please, sung. Just pick up. 

 

Me  9:58 PM

You don’t have to keep track of any more days. I’m done. 

Jisung blocked his number. He was fully prepared to leave it at that, a petty over-the-phone breakup, and move on with his life.

Min-Jun never let go that easy. Not when his talons were buried so deep into his skin, that it was like the scars burned whenever he was near. No, he was insistent, stubborn. 

Everyday, Jisung’s doorstep was decorated with flowers. Bouquets he’s never gotten in the duration of their relationship, now staring at him, begging to be picked up. 

Min-Jun came over that Friday. It was romantic. It was the passion that they had been missing the last few months of their relationship, a fire reignited after a few days apart. It was a wake up call, that Jisung wouldn’t be willing to stay if he wasn’t happy. 

And the next few months were blissful, so good that it was almost as if the last bit of their relationship didn’t happen. They had a clean slate, a chance to start over and find their groove again. Min-Jun had learned how to control his temper, learned when to walk away, and learned how to make Jisung happy. 

He could marry this man. 

With the way things were going, if Min-Jun had decided to get down on knee, and spewed a love ridden rant about how much he wanted Jisung– he’d say yes. He’d put on a show, let the tears run down his cheeks, and jump into the arms of the man he’d marry. 

They even spoke about it, all of it— moving in together, getting animals together, what kind of ring Jisung would want. Min-Jun took Jisung to a jeweler, to get an idea of the style he was looking for, getting his hopes up when he even spoke about fully customizing the diamond. 

It was all for show.

Old habits die hard, it’s how it ended up here— on the floor of his living room, cheeks stained with tears and a phone lit up with texts that were weighing him down. 

They had been at it all night. It started at breakfast, Jisung offering to pay for the meal, and Min-Jun insisting he’d pick up the bill. Jisung tried to be cute, sneaking his card towards the waiter and playfully winking. But as soon he turned to face his boyfriend, with a smile on his face, all he was met with was darkness.

“Did you really just do that?” He scoffed, “Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Embarrass you?” Jisung blinked, voice already small.

“You make me look like a loser when you do that. Like I can’t treat my boyfriend to breakfast.” 

“I was just trying to be nice, Minjie..” 

“Yeah? Well stop.” 

Jisung went quiet after that. Their hands never intertwined on the way back to the car, and his boyfriend didn’t bother to apologize for raising his voice in the middle of the cafe. 

“What do you wanna do for dinner?” Jisung finally spoke up, hours of silence breaking down any bit of anger he felt. Silence was hard. Silence felt like loneliness. 

So it only hurt Jisung more, when he wasn’t met with a response, just a small glare as Min-Jun turned the tv up louder. 

“We can do takeout. That one spot you love.” 

More silence. 

“Or you can completely ignore me.” 

“Bingo.” Min-Jun shrugged. 

Jisung was dumbfounded, standing there with his eyes on the man. Everything had begun to bubble up, word vomit that was unable to hold down. There were no longer butterflies flying in his stomach, no, they were long gone. The only feeling was disgust, not only in Min-Jun, but in himself. For allowing himself to crawl back into the arms of someone who just didn’t care.

“Fine. You know what? Fine! Stay here and rot in your anger, Min-Jun! I woke up and wanted to have a good day, and you were determined to ruin it in any way you can!”

Min-Jun’s eyebrow shot up, the attitude finally capturing his full attention. Jisung tried to keep his ground, standing straight as his arms crossed over his chest. 

“And what have I done, Jisung? How are you the victim this time?”

This time. As if he had been considering reasons to be the victim every other time, as if it wasn’t Jisung who was at the tail end of the screaming matches, as if he was the bad guy. 

“Fuck you. God, fuck you!” Jisung tried to stop the tears, but they had a mind of their own, running down his face as he gathered his overnight bag. Min-Jun stood there, with no care in the world, as if he knew that Jisung would be running back in no time. There was no point in fighting for him anymore, not when he was so confident in his control.

“Put your bag down.” He mumbled, pausing his show and leisurely walking over. Jisung was halfway out the door before a hand gripped tightly onto the bag, Jisung’s head snapping towards him as he yanked it away.

“You keep your hands away from me. I’m not staying here.”

“Why? Because I made you upset? You know, Sung. If you want this relationship to work, you need to stop being so sensitive.”

Jisung’s face twisted, heart heavy in his chest as he watched how bored his boyfriend looked. As if Jisung wasn’t ready to fall apart in front of him. Shouldn’t his first instinct be to reach out? To soothe his worries, wipe his tears away?

“Or you’re just fucking heartless.” Jisung croaked, “Maybe there’s somebody out there who’ll comfort me instead of insulting me, how about that?”

“Yeah? Good luck finding that, Jisung. Good fucking luck.”

Jisung hardly made it home. His eyes were filled with tears, vision blurry and head dizzy as he tried to focus on the street in front of him. His key almost jammed itself into the wrong door, apologizing to his neighbor when the door cracked open out of suspicion. 

The stranger cared more than his own boyfriend, reaching out to Jisung and asking if he was okay. Jisung just wiped his tears and put on a brave face, smiling wide and thanking her for her worry. With a quick step away, he was safe in the comfort of his own home. There was hardly a trace of his boyfriend here, Min-Jun’s place always being the preferred place to stay. 

All of it was just Jisung’s.  His figures, posters, his favorite vinyls hanging up on his wall. A home that he had spent so long decorating, even when Min-Jun was mumbling in his ear about how childish it looked. He’d always brush him off, giggle at the harsh comments, even when Min-Jun would stare back at him with a straight face. 

This was the only place where Jisung could be himself. With a quick grab of his favorite blanket, and tossing a couch pillow to the ground, he let himself go limp. His body curled against the floor, hands gripping tightly onto the soft material of his covers, silent cries shaking his body as his mind wrapped around… everything. 

He wasn’t happy. Nothing about the relationship he thought was the best thing to ever happen to him made him feel good. The love of his life was hellbent on making Jisung miserable, when all he’s ever done was try and make him happy. 

I don’t deserve this. 

That sentence replayed in his head, circling around his brain as his ears rang. The room got darker as time went by— one of his only days off that he expected to spend with Min-Jun, now spent watching the sunset through his windows, blurred by the tears in his eyes. 

His phone screen lit up. Jisung went to shut it off completely, before realizing it wasn’t Min-Jun. 

Chan.

A much nicer greeting, a selfie of the two of them holding up a peace sign, smiles wide. Chan was also a safe space, someone he’s confided in with the hectic life he’s built himself. Changbin, the rest of their trio, was a bit more aggressive with his approach.

Being the youngest of the three, the moment things got tough, Changbin’s first instinct was to recommend beating his boyfriend black and blue. 

“I’d do it for free.” He’d mumble, “You pay my bail and we call it even.”

It was sweet, minus the violence. 

The phone continued to ring, Jisung hesitantly reaching out to pick it up and press it against his ear. He did his best to catch his breath, sniffling away the congestion and wiping away his tears. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his friends like he always did. 

“Hi, hyung..” Jisung hummed, clearing his throat as he nuzzled against the pillow, “Nice of you to call..”

“Get dressed!" Chan’s cheery voice rang through the phone, yelling over the music in the background and the obvious sound of Changbin’s signature laugh, “Right now! We miss you!”

“Where are you guys?” Jisung laughed, slowly sitting up as the blanket slipped off him, “It’s so loud! What are you doing?”

“Hyunjin brought us out for drinks, and we somehow ended up at a club! We’re with a few of his friends from some dance class, you have to join us!”

Jisung smiled. Chan always radiated a sort of happiness that radiated to you, no matter how sad you were. Especially when you could hear how wide his smile was, a tipsy laugh breaking up his sentences as the music bumped louder in the background. 

“I don’t know if it’s a good time, hyung..” 

The last thing he needed was Min-Jun checking his location, and seeing him at a club after storming off. He knew he’d wake up to an abundance of texts, and have to spend days apologizing to him and ensuring him that nothing happened. He was exhausted enough, there was no point in making his life harder. 

“Nooo! Please, come on! We’ll send you an uber! You can even bring Min-Jun!”

There was an audible protest in the background, Changbin groaning loudly and yelling no. Jisung just laughed, trying to conjure up the perfect excuse as to why the man he’s always attached to wouldn’t tag along. But every time he tried to speak up, his tongue went numb. It was like his body was refusing to defend the man any longer, mustering up none of the energy needed to spit out a satisfying answer. 

“I don’t wanna see his face right now.” Jisung blurted out, rolling onto his back and staring towards the ceiling fan spinning, “God. That’s the last thing I want, I can’t— no. Min-Jun would not be joining us.”

Chan went silent on the other line, excruciating seconds passing. The music got quieter as the sound of footsteps got louder, a door clicking closed before the man took a deep breath. 

“What the hell did he do?”

“Hyung, please…”

“What did he do, Jisung? God.. I told you getting back together was a bad idea, I tell you every time. He is so toxic, I don’t understand what you–”

“Please. I have been fighting all day, I can’t handle any more judgment.”

“Jisung-ah… I’m not judging you. I would never judge you. I know you’re in love with him, and you wanna make it work. I am worried. Because everytime you guys fight, it’s like you slip farther and farther away from yourself…”

Jisung sniffled, not realizing that the tears had begun to fall again. He was losing a part of himself, the part that made him happy. Min-Jun took that part and locked it away, only taking it out to damage it further.

“You’re crying..” Chan sighed, “Was it bad? Did he hurt you?”

“No..” Jisung sobbed, “Not physically no, but I–”

His voice broke off, a hand covering his mouth as he tried to contain the body shaking sobs that were slipping out. 

“I’m so tired of feeling like this..”

“I’m gonna kill him..”

“Why can’t he just love me, hyung? What else do I have to do? It’s like the harder I try, the more he hates me.. Why does he hate me?”

“Because he’s miserable,” Chan groaned, “Come out. Okay? You need to clear your mind. I know you’re laying on the floor right now. Aren’t you? Curled up in front of the couch?”

“...Yeah..”

“I’m sending an uber. Hyunjin’s hereee, you love Hyunjin.. You make fun of Binnie together..”

Jisung cracked a smile. 

“We do love making fun of Binnie…”

“Get dressed. Just for the night, we can pretend like your love life isn’t terrible, yeah? And we can talk about Changbin tearing that man apart in the morning..”

“Okay..” Jisung sighed. Chan had a point, there was no point in dwelling in his emotions for the entire night. This is what he needed, some time with his friends and to be surrounded by people who don’t find him annoying and a burden. 

Just for a night, some harmless fun. He’d spend endless hours downing drinks and curling up to Changbin’s boyfriend, making him jealous, and then laughing with Chan when they’re eventually dragging each other to the bathroom. Jisung will be too drunk about the consequences of his actions, and maybe, even wake up with enough confidence to leave Min-Jun for good.

“I’ll see you soon, Sung! Look cute!”

“You got it, hyung.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖   ✦    ‧₊˚ ⋅

It was loud. The blaring music didn’t help the dull pain in Jisung’s head, leftover from the small breakdown he had in the middle of his living room. The ride was short, not long enough for him to overthink and immediately demand the poor man to turn back around.

Min-Jun hasn’t tried to contact him once. Not a text, not a call, not a single thing to show that perhaps he was feeling a bit guilty for overreacting. Jisung should’ve expected that, but it still stung. 

But, the others were blowing up his phone, making up for the radio silence from his boyfriend. Changbin had sent every threat possible, mapping out an entire plan on how he could make the man disappear without a trace. Chan was just being sweet, and sending a little-too-blurry photos of the drinks he was ordering. Hyunjin was in protective mode, making sure to bring up that Min-Jun was nowhere attractive enough to treat Jisung the way he did. 

He had great friends. Amazing, perfect. They knew how to make him feel better, and knew to shove a drink into his hand the second they laid eyes on him. Granted, the fruity cocktail almost spilled over as Changbin pulled him into a bonecrushing hug, Hyunjin saving the day as he quickly lifted the cup out of his hand. 

“Ohh you’re here!” Changbin kissed the top of his head, “Your face is puffy. I’m gonna kill him.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jisung’s nose scrunched, laughing at the way Changbin instantly pouted, “No more talking about him. I don’t wanna hear the man’s name for the rest of the night!”

Hyunjin cheered, pushing his boyfriend away and handing the man his drink. He was much nicer, letting Jisung get a good chug before pulling him in for a hug. His embrace was much more delicate, a hand rubbing against his back as Hyunjin mumbled how happy he was to see him. 

“You guys..” Jisung whined, peeling himself away, “No more. I wanna have fun!” As soon as he backed up, he was met with Chan’s chest, his arms wrapping around him and forcing him to accept the affection. 

“Channie-hyungg!”

“Just a small hug! You broke my heart on that phone call!”

Jisung did his best to wiggle away, Chan’s arms keeping him still as he pressed a kiss to the back of his head. There was no point in fighting, Jisung giggling to himself as he let himself lay against the man’s chest, chugging the rest of his drink and shaking the empty cup. 

“You’re gonna have to let go now,” Jisung huffed, “I wanna get drunk, and I can’t do that when you’re holding me hostage..”

“Fine,” Chan pouted, slowly letting his arms drop and quickly smiling when Jisung turned to face him, “I’m so happy you came. It’s not the same without you, Jisung… You complete us.”

Sweet words. Words that felt so foreign, words that didn’t feel like they belonged to him. All he could manage was a forced smile, tearing himself away and making his way towards the bar, his personal bodyguards not far behind him. 

Thankfully, they listened. None of them brought up Min-Jun again, instead finding a table where they could all sit and chat their night away. After a few drinks, long meaningful talks quickly turned into stupid comments broken up by the sound of unstoppable laughter. 

Jisung didn’t notice when Hyunjin had slipped away, too focused on Changbin dramatically retelling a story that he swears he’s heard a hundred times before. It wasn’t until a shoulder brushed against him that he noticed the blonde that had taken a seat beside him. 

His face must’ve looked just as bewildered as he felt, the stranger laughing as he set his drink down and held his hand out for a shake. 

“Hi! I’m Felix!” 

Jisung blinked in surprise at the cheery welcome, the man greeting him with a bright smile and cheery voice. But he took Felix’s hand, shaking it and smiling back, glancing towards the group for any sort of explanation of the new occupant at the table. 

“My friend!” Hyunjin smiled, “We all came out tonight! This is Felix, as he said. A ray of sunshine, our golden boy, the sweetest soul you’ll ever meet.. I think that covers all the bases.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t think I’d meet the literal sun tonight.” Jisung joked, smiling at the same Felix’s lips curled into a smile. His eyes closed with every small laugh, making Jisung smile wider.

“You’re too kind. I like you already!” 

“Did you say we all?” Jisung asked, taking a quick sip of his drink, “Is it just the both of you?”

“No! Minho-hyung’s with us but–” Hyunjin glanced around, standing up to get a better look over the crowd before sinking back down, “I have no idea where he went. When did he wander off?”

Felix shrugged, glancing over at Chan with a smile, “Do you dance?”

“Not well..” Chan laughed, Jisung raising an eyebrow before he softly nudged his friend with his elbow, “But.. Maybe you can teach me?”

Hyunjin whined, head falling back dramatically as Changbin reached out to catch it. He smiled fondly at the man, brushing his bangs out of his face and sighing, “Is this you telling me you also wanna dance?”

“You’re so smart..” Hyunjin smiled, quickly standing up and gripping tightly onto Changbin, tearing him away before Jisung had the chance to say goodbye. 

“You gonna be okay for a minute?” Chan asked, worriedly looking over Jisung, “I can stay. We can talk, just the two of us. I promise, it’s no big deal just say the—”

“Go, hyung. I’m fine, seriously. I’ll be waiting here when you guys get back.”

“You’re not gonna be lonely?”

“I’m used to being lonely, remember?” Jisung attempted a laugh, quickly masking it down with a last sip of his drink when Chan shot him a look, “I’m sorry, bad joke. Go! Have fun! I’m gonna get another drink anyways.”

With permission, Felix whisked him away, the two of them disappearing into the sea of people. Jisung just watched— watched the strangers dance against each other, moving with the music, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Jisung wondered how many of them were in the same position as him, dragged out of the house in hopes of forgetting the harsh reality of real life. 

Probably a lot more than he thinks. 

He wanted to be that carefree. Confident enough in himself to find someone he found attractive, drag them to the floor and dance the night away. But that just wasn’t him, it never was, and maybe he’ll never be that person. 

Alone, at the table, drink in hand. His face masked in the dark corner, only illuminated when the lights shine towards him. Hidden away, where he belonged. 

“Depressing.” Jisung mumbled aloud, forcing himself out of his seat and wandering through the crowd to get back to the bar. If he was gonna be alone, he needed to be more than tipsy. He took a seat at the end bar stool, smiling politely at the couple that were already getting up and towards the exit. 

“What can I get you?” 

“Margarita, please.”

“Topshelf?”

“Sure.”

Jisung’s fingers drummed against the bartop, looking around the various bottles of liquor perfectly displayed on shelves. He was never a big drinker, especially when it came to nights where he was feeling so bad. But it felt good to let loose after such an intense day, Jisung already craving the way the liquor soothed out his muscles and fixed the anxiety in his chest. 

A temporary fix for a problem he’d have to eventually deal with. 

When he turned, he caught a glimpse of a few familiar faces. Hyunjin, eyes squeezed closed as his hips swayed against the man behind him, hands running through his long hair as he mouthed along to the music. It was hard to see Felix, who was shielded by Chan’s broad shoulders, both of their backs towards the bars as they danced against each other. 

Min-Jun hated scenes like this. He also hated when Jisung would drink. Something about an already expressive man becoming hard to maintain with a few too many drinks. It always ended with Jisung being pushed away, his boyfriend shouting over the loud music that he was acting like a fool. 

Changbin never did that. He never let Hyunjin know when he was being annoying, because he accepted every bit of dramatics his boyfriend threw at him. But not Min-Jun, not for Jisung. Because Changbin could never dream of treating Hyunjin like he was too much, but somehow when it came to Jisung, Min-Jun spat those words like it was second nature. 

It was unfair. He was happy for his friends, always. They deserved all the happiness in the world, but didn’t he? Didn’t he deserve to be dragged towards the dance floor, to show off his terribly coordinated moves while he giggled without a care? Didn’t he deserve to let loose, and not be afraid that he’s making a fool of himself?

The drinks weren’t sitting well. Instead of bringing him bubbly relief and giddiness, the liquor had just begun to heighten his anxiety, Jisung turning to stare at the perfectly shaken drink in front of him. 

Or maybe he was too tipsy, the dizziness setting in as his hand missed the glass. 

“Need some water?” An unfamiliar voice caught Jisung’s attention, “Sorry.. You look a little out of it.”

Jisung wasn’t prepared. The drinks weren’t helping. As soon as his head looked up, he was met with a man that he swore only existed in his dreams. 

“Sorry?” Jisung repeated, dumbfounded as his mouth went dry. 

His lips. His lips. A plump upper lip, his cupid bows so pronounced it was almost bunny-like. It paired beautifully with his subtly glossed over bottom lip, one that Jisung can already tell he’d love to bite into—

“Water..” The stranger cut into his thoughts, “I was just asking if you wanted some water..” There was a subtle smile on his face, somehow Jisung could see how kind his eyes looked in the terrible lighting. Everything about him was soft, well, not the jawline that Jisung could see himself— 

“Are you okay?” The stranger once again interrupted his wandering mind, “Here.. Drink this.” 

A water bottle was pushed his way, Jisung’s eyes focusing on the item before furrowing his eyebrows and glancing back up at the man. 

“I’m not gonna take a random drink from a stranger.” He slurred, much more incoherent than he meant to, “Wouldn’t be very smart.”

The man nodded in agreement, pulling away the bottle and flagging down the bartender for another. 

“I agree. It’s unsafe. So is the way you’re swaying on that barstool, you’re gonna fall over.” 

“Oh.. Thank you.” Jisung blinked, opening the safe water bottle that was placed in front of him and chugging it. When he placed it back down, the stranger was swift, hand moving in to wipe away the trail of water that traveled down his chin.

“Sorry..” He smiled, “You just had something on your face..” 

Jisung felt like he was going to explode. 

“It’s- uhm. Thank you.” 

“No problem.. Is this seat taken?”

Jisung shouted no a little too fast for his liking, making his cheeks grow hot as he quickly snapped his attention back towards the liquor bottles. He heard the subtle sound of a chuckle before the man took a seat beside him, gently reaching over to move away the half drank margarita. 

“Maybe you should slow down on these. Are you here with somebody?”

“My friends..” Jisung was lucky the darkness was hiding his red cheeks, “They’re just dancing right now.”

“I see.. And you’re here? At the bar?” 

“Yeah..” Jisung shrugged, “My name’s Jisung.” 

“Very nice to meet you, Jisung. My name’s Minho.”

The name struck something in Jisung’s clouded mind, but he simply shrugged, taking another long swing of his water before letting his head lay on the counter top. 

“That’s probably riddled with germs,” Minho mumbled, “I can’t imagine how many people have thrown up there.”

“Gross..” Jisung mumbled, body quickly shooting up when his lips hit the table, earning a loud laugh from the man beside him. His eyebrows knit together, lips downturned into a pout when Minho looked at him, only making the man smile wider. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that!”

Minho’s nose scrunched with laughter, a hand politely covering his mouth as Jisung’s pout only got more dramatic. A hand reached out to swat at him playfully, only, his intoxication threw off his aim. With a loud gasp, the glass knocked over and spilled the drink onto Minho’s lap, droplets being thrown into the air as he quickly shot out of his seat. 

“Shit!” Jisung gasped, trying to catch the glass before it fell to the ground, loud clattering catching the attention of the bartender, “I’m so sorry! I’ll clean it up, fuck– Minho, I’m so sorry!” 

“Here.” The worker grumbled, not interested in Jisung’s drunk behavior in the slightest, leaving behind a towel before walking towards another interested customer. 

“Jisung that isn’t necessary–”

“I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry–” Jisung gripped onto the towel, dropping to his knees and dabbing away at the wet spot on Minho’s jeans without a second thought, “I’ll pay for your next drink, this is so embarrassing.”

“Jisung, seriously…”

Jisung shushed him, continuing to dab at the wet spot insistently, continuous apologies slipping past his lips as the towel moved over every area that Jisung could make out.

“Jisung.” Minho gasped, Jisung quickly realized that the spot he was confidently dabbing over was making Minho squirm, “Please. Just–”

Minho gently guided his hand away, grabbing onto his arms and slowly helping him back onto his feet. If Jisung was nervous a few seconds ago, it was nothing compared to now. The towel, still in his hands, clutched tightly between his fingers as his breath hitched. The redness spread over the bridge of his nose and towards the tip of ears. Minho’s composure was no better, eyes blinking rapidly as his face flushed. 

“At least buy me a drink first.” Minho joked, still clearly affected, but it made Jisung feel better than he was trying to lighten the mood.

“For you. Just you. I think I’ve had enough.” Jisung huffed, hands running down his face as he tried to mask the obvious embarrassment on his face. He had barely been in the man’s presence for a handful of minutes, and he had already managed to make a fool of himself. 

“I think so too.” Minho chuckled, looking down to brush off his pants, “But I do think you got most of it… Impressive..”

Jisung shook his head, whining before falling back into his seat. Minho was relentless, squeezing the man’s shoulder before taking his seat beside them. They had spoken for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing comfortably, Minho making sure to throw a few jokes in about how fast Jisung got comfortable. 

Minho was confident. His attitude wasn’t cocky, and the man was nowhere near egotistical, but he was sure of himself. A dancer, he’d make sure to introduce him to Hyunjin, and a good one at that. He had been at the studio he’s with for years, growing close to his team and even having his own shining moments of creating choreo for the group to dance to. Minho lit up while he was talking about the dances, his passion flowing through him as his face shined with love and admiration for the hobby. 

Jisung also learned, outside of dancing, he spent most of days curled up with his cats and a looping playlist of the few songs he keeps on there. The comfort of his own home was always too cozy to leave, meaning most of his days off were spent with a morning jog and then back to his safe place. 

This wasn’t his usual scene, but his friends had insisted they come out, and he for once didn’t say no.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Jisung smiled, “I really like talking to you.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty grateful I came out…”

There was something so alluring about the man. He wasn’t making any moves, not besides the little flirtatious comments he mixed into the conversation. But he kept a respectful distance, hands always on the table, keeping his eyes fixated on him for a majority of the time. But, Jisung could see it. He could see the way Minho’s eyes flicker down whenever he was talking, tracing over the lining of his lips. He could see the way his eyebrows would subtly move up when Jisung’s tongue would peek out to swipe over his bottom lip. 

“I like your hair..” The conversation had come to a natural end, but Jisung had no interest in parting ways yet, “It’s super pretty. I love the blonde.”

“Aish..” Minho’s hands went up to touch the blonde strands, running a hand through it instinctively before letting them rest back into his lap, “Thank you. It’s something I had wanted to do for a while, but just recently had the confidence to actually do it..”

“It really fits you..” Jisung didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. The more he observed the man, the more he found little things to be obsessed about. His nose, for example, took his breath away. Minho’s entire side profile was enough to make him almost fall out of the barstool again. 

Sharp. That was the best way to describe it. The bridge of his nose was straight, the tip of it only emphasizing his bunny look. It was perfect, he was perfect. It fit the rest of his face perfectly, proportioned and spaced. The God’s took their time with this one, Jisung thought, the man was too perfect to be real. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Minho smiled, taking Jisung by surprise. 

The man couldn’t keep still in his chair, could hardly grab items directly in front of him, and managed to push the only glass near him onto the lap of the poor man. Nothing he’s shown would suggest that Jisung had any sort of coordination or rhythm, why would he wanna dance with a professional?

“And make a complete fool of myself?” 

“It’s fine! I’ll guide you, huh?”

God. 

“Guide me?”

“It’s not rocket science, Sung-ah. Just follow my lead.”

Before he could protest, Minho gently grabbed onto his arm, leading him towards the bodies his friends were still mixed in with. The lights got darker as they got deeper into the crowd, LEDs and lasers illuminating their figures as they found their way towards the middle. Jisung had no idea what to do, standing idly as Minho turned to face him. 

His lips opened to say something, but Jisung could hardly make out a word. The bass had only gotten more intense, thumping deep in his chest as he watched Minho’s mouth form around each letter that he couldn’t hear. The man seemingly gave up, laughing and looping his hands around Jisung’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the sudden lack of space, chests bumping against each other and causing Jisung to slightly stumble. But it wasn’t a worry, Minho pulling him back in and moving along to the beat of the song. He tried his best to copy the motions, trying to just feel the music and let it take over. It had seemingly already swept Minho away, his eyes closed and head tipped up as he swung to the music. 

“I’m bad at this!” Jisung yelled over the song, laughing when Minho’s already closed eyes crinkled in happiness, “Seriously! I think I’m dragging you down! You’d do much better without two left feet hanging off you!” 

“You just gotta let go, Sung-ah! Follow hyung’s lead!” 

The thoughts that kept running through Jisung’s head were terrible. If he was anymore sober, he’d feel guilty about it all. But all he could focus on was trying not to completely melt in the man's arm, and contain some composure. But it was near impossible considering how beautiful Minho looked in his element. His words were no help either, the idea of Minho guiding him and talking him through it….

“You’re killing me!” Jisung laughed, “How do you know you’re my elder?! I could be older than you, for all you know!”

Nothing could prepare for the way Minho leaned in, invading any bit of space they had left. He could hear the smirk on his lips as he moved to whisper in his ear, shivers running down his spine as he spoke.

“Because you’re too cute to be older than me.”

The lips that Jisung had been staring at all night brushed against his ear, subtle enough to easily be a mistake, but enough to make Jisung whine with how much he missed the feeling when he pulled away. Something must have snapped inside the man— his gaze no longer soft and kind, but replaced with a sort of hunger that made Jisung weak in the knees. 

“Cute?” Jisung tried to mask the way his voice wavered, unknowing if Minho could pick up on it amidst the blaring music. 

“Cute.” Minho solidified his answer, bottom lip catching between his bunny teeth as he looked over Jisung’s face, “Very cute.”

Jisung was in too deep. The logical part of his brain wasn’t working. Consequences didn’t exist in the bubble that had surrounded him and Minho, the world outside having no rules for the pair as their bodies got closer with each grueling second. Somehow, even with the people that were bumping against them, it felt like they were alone. 

“Can I kiss you?” Minho whispered, quiet but Jisung somehow picked it up enough to nod eagerly. 

Fuck. He should say no.

“Please.”

Minho dove in, hands moving to cup his cheeks and pull him close, lips pressing against Jisung’s with passion he hadn’t felt in years. Their lips completed each other, both of them humming happily before their lips parted to make space for the soft pants, Minho’s tongue perfectly licking against the other’s. 

The adrenaline rush made it all better, the rush of kissing someone new, something forbidden but so perfect. Jisung melted into it, completely surrendering himself to Minho as he arched his body to press against him even more. If it was possible to be any closer, Jisung needed to succeed, wanting every inch of Minho to press against him perfectly. 

Minho kissed him hungrily, like he had been waiting to taste Jisung all night, licking and biting to break up the intense press of their lips. It felt like heaven, Minho being perfectly soft and sweet with the kiss, but also knowing the exact time to pull on Jisung’s bottom lip to make him grip onto Minho’s shirt. 

His hands were on his back, resisting the urge to feel down Minho’s muscles, instead settling on letting his nails gently scratch against the material keeping them apart. He could feel how toned the man was, years of dance and consistent jobs doing wonders for his body. 

The only thing Jisung could think at that moment was how good it felt. How good he felt with Minho’s attention on him, quickly picking up on all the things that make him squirm in his arms. Like when his thumb pressed against his jaw, dragging out a moan that Jisung didn’t mean to let out. 

The noise made Minho freeze, slowly pulling away and leaving a wide eyed Jisung stunned at the sudden loss of his lips. Jisung opened his mouth to… Whine? Consistently apologize? Plead for him to kiss him like that again? He didn’t know. All he knew was that the drinks were nothing compared to how drunk he felt off the man, fingers gripping onto his shirt as he tried to press their lips together once again. 

“Wait..” Minho mumbled, subtly moving back, making Jisung’s heart drop. 

“Shit..” Jisung blinked, hands dropping from their spot, and stepping away from Minho, “I’m so sorry… Heat of the moment, fuck, I got too carried away–”

Jisung cut himself off with a shocked squeak, eyes widening as his body flipped around. Minho wrapped his arms around his waist, palms resting upon his stomach as they felt over the skin. His hand slipped under the material of his shirt, hiking it up and exposing Jisung’s stomach. Those same skilled lips pressed against his neck, nosing under his jaw before Minho left wet kisses down to his shoulder. 

“Hyung..” Jisung gasped, hand reaching up to cradle the back of Minho’s head, “More..”

This was very out of character. Jisung was never this brave, never would he imagine himself getting marked up in the middle of a club with a bunch of people surrounding them. That would be enough to make him cower in fear, hide himself out of pure embarrassment. 

But Minho made it all worth it. If anybody was judging them, or sending them unpleasant stares, he didn’t care. Because Minho’s teeth were grazing against his skin, sinking down and sucking hard enough to mark him.

“You wanna get out of here?” Minho whispered into his ear, kissing over it before biting down on the soft part of his lobe, “I wanna hear more of those pretty noises without the stupid music drowning you out..”

This is where Jisung crosses the line, doesn’t he? Maybe, if he stopped now, he could pretend this night never happened. He could get a ride home, sleep off the drinks he had too much of, and wake up the next day ready to crawl back to Min-Jun. Consistency was safe, a routine was safe. If he didn’t break from the shell he was forced into, there was no room for change. Because change was scary, change was the thing Jisung feared most. 

This isn’t who he was. He wasn’t a cheater. Min-Jun hurt him more times than he could count, but Jisung had never expected to stoop so low to be disloyal. This should feel wrong, right? Nobody would ever be Min-Jun, and that should be a good thing. Because his boyfriend was his whole world, through thick and thin. 

So this should be the part where he says no. He should push Minho away, along with all the feelings and giddiness he brought with him. He should erase his touch, his voice, his perfect eyes. Because Minho wasn’t his, Min-Jun was. 

Jisung was obedient, that’s what Min-Jun showed him. Or was he just a pushover? So desperate to make two parts that don’t fit together work, that he allowed himself to give into the smallest amount of pressure? Routine. This was the part in Jisung’s story where he realizes that he could do no better than Min-Jun, he’s the only man that would ever love him. The only thing Jisung knows, a disgusting pattern he’s always been too scared to break. To keep his life the way it is, to stay on path and not stray away from the routine, he should say no. 

No.

“My place or yours?” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖   ✦    ‧₊˚ ⋅

“Open the door..” Jisung whined. It was quite a scene, if any poor soul decided to peek outside their apartment door, they’d be met with a show. Jisung, back pressed against the door, shirt riding his body. Minho’s hands explored every bit of skin he could while his mouth worked to attach his neck with marks. The two of them were eager, their hips moving to grind against anything to feel a form of relief. 

The drive home was somehow more intense than a makeout in the middle of a club— the two of them squished together as close as they could get, hands politely kept on their laps. They didn’t want to make the driver uncomfortable, but there was no way he saw how Minho was practically eye-fucking Jisung, so it was fine. 

It was a shocker they made it to the elevator, Jisung yanking Minho in for another kiss as the doors closed, Minho giggling and trying to tear the hungry man off. It didn’t work, Minho didn’t complain, and they made out for the entirety of the ride. Of course, a poor woman gasped when the doors opened, the pair quickly pushing each other off and wiping their mouths. 

“I’m so sorry.” Jisung bowed his head politely, fixing his shirt and stepping aside so the lady could walk on, “What- what floor?”

“Third.” She scoffed, looking towards the wall. 

The rest of the ride was silent, the two of them holding in their snickers as they stared at each other. Minho’s door was only a few steps down, but they still managed to make it quite the trip getting there. Stopping to kiss, then resume walking, stopping so Minho could yank Jisung close and feel him up, then resume. 

Now, Minho was just being mean. A particularly harsh rut of his hips had Jisung gasping, head falling back to the rest against the door behind him. He had Jisung exactly where he wanted him, eyes rolling back as those fingers moved up to brush over Jisung’s nipples. A protest attempted to come out, a demand for Minho to unlock the damn door so he could tear him apart in private. But the only thing he got out was a moan, one that he immediately tried to muffle. 

“So loud.. God, you’re sensitive.”

Oh, Jisung hated that word. That word held too much above his head, and the last thing he wanted was to be consumed by the reminder of how much people hated that about him. 

“Is that okay..?” Jisung mumbled, voice timid as he pulled Minho from his neck, staring into his eyes. He could see Minho perfectly in this lighting, and it was terrible how unreal he looked up close. Something in Jisung’s eyes must’ve shifted, Minho’s eyes furrowing together in worry as he moved out of the shirt. He brought it up to his face, thumb brushing over Jisung’s bottom lip as he mumbled out how beautiful he was. 

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect, Jisung.” Minho whispered, leaning forward to press their lips together, pushing the words back into Jisung like a promise. To be kept there safely, Minho mumbled the word once again before sliding his tongue back into his mouth. It was stunning how easily Minho soothed the man’s worries without a second thought. It wasn’t like pulling teeth getting him to mumble the right words, like they had been at the tip of his tongue the entire night. 

Minho dug into his pockets as one hand cradled Jisung’s face, drinking down every moan Jisung let freely roll off his tongue and into Minho’s mouth. The sound of keys jingling made his face go red, giggling as he pulled Minho closer. He did the best he could with the space given, Minho blindly feeling for his housekey, managing to fit into the keyhole and twist it. 

“Jump.” Minho mumbled into the kiss.

And Jisung listened. Hopping up and letting Minho’s free arm catch him, legs wrapping around his waist as the man kept him upright. Their mouths never left the other, their lips like magnets, never to be separated as Minho kicked the door closed behind him. The two of them were so deep in their moment, Minho walking them towards the bedroom, that they hardly noticed the stubborn fall of fur that stopped in front of them.

“Soonie!” Minho finally separated, trying to stop the both of them from falling flat on the floor, “Fuck, I didn’t feed them before I left..”

Jisung blinked, trying to recoup himself as his head fell forward to rest on Minho’s shoulder. Suddenly, his body was shaking, giggling spilling out of him as he began to laugh against the man. Minho scoffed, teasingly giving his ass a small smack, only making Jisung laugh harder.

“We just got interrupted by your cat?”

“Hey. You’re lucky it's just the one..”

Minho gently shook his shoulder, nudging Jisung’s head up so he could get another look at him. He hadn’t laughed this hard in so long, little tears shrinking as he shook his head, Minho doing his best to keep a straight face as Jisung snorted. 

“Oh my god, you’re adorable.” Minho shook his head, eyes fond as he pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, “Let me feed them. You go lay down, I’ll meet you there..”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Down the hall and to the right..” 

He slowly let Jisung down, reaching back in for one more kiss before walking his way towards the dim lighted kitchen. Jisung smiled to himself, glancing down at the orange cat, who was already waiting with his eyes locked on the man.

“I think your dad wanted you to follow him.” Jisung hummed, chuckling at the stubborn Soonie refusing to move, “What? Do you need something from me?”

Soonie blinked, slowly standing up and letting his paws fall forward on Jisung’s feet, using him as an anchor to get a good stretch in. Jisung just watched happily, the cat nuzzling against his leg before padding away to follow the sound of a rustling food bag. 

Eagerly, Jisung thought about what was waiting for him at the end of the hallway. A glimpse into the world of Minho, a man that he’s just met but needed to discover. His shoes were kicked off and pushed near the door, watching Minho’s shadow move around in the kitchen.  

“Your cat’s cute!” Jisung called out before continuing down the hallway, glancing over the art on the wall as he passed by, happiness still flowing through his veins. He could still feel Minho’s fingerprints all over him, the eager pressure of his lips, it made Jisung’s nerves explode and relax all at the same time. 

The door was cracked open, Jisung pushing it the rest of the way open and taking in the sight in front of him. It was neat, no piles of clothes or stray items scattered on the ground. Books were lined up neatly on his desk, one pulled out and perfectly in center with the chair that was pushed against it. His bed was made, a dark duvet covering it that matched perfectly with the plush pillows that were practically inviting him in. 

“Were you expecting someone, huh?” Jisung called down the hall, “This is freakishly clean!” 

Minho laughed from his spot in the kitchen, Jisung finally pushing himself forward and falling flat onto the bed. It was as comfy as it looked, his body melting into the soft mattress, rolling around and messing up how neatly the covers laid. He could get used to this, the man thought to himself, rolling to his side to look at the framed pictures of the same cat he saw and two unfamiliar ones. 

Next to it was a half used candle, the lid neatly placed on top with a lighter resting near it. It was probably the most cluttered place in the room, a charger splayed messily on it, headphones almost falling off the edge of it. Jisung smiled, gently pushing the case of the headphones closer to the middle so they didn’t topple over. 

Everything about the spot was cozy, even if it looked like it had been professionally cleaned. The lights were warm, and the smell of the spiced candle lingered in the air. Jisung wondered what he was meant to be doing at this point, Minho would probably be creeped out if he came back and saw the man just observing all of his things. 

Jisung dug his phone from his pocket, looking at the screen and groaning at the amount of notifications he had gotten. Maybe he should’ve warned his friends that he was leaving the club, but it was a little hard to think about the perfect excuse when Minho was practically dragging him out the door. Most were from Chan, ranging from a few lighthearded ones, to anger, to worry. 

Channie   1:24 AM

 

Just give me a sign of life, please. 

Jisung just gave the text a thumbs up reaction, sighing and letting his phone fall from his hand onto the blanket below. When it lit up, his wallpaper sent panic through his chest. It was a close up of the man he was not supposed to be thinking about right now, Jisung quickly turning it over as Minho leaned against the doorframe. 

“You’ve made yourself comfortable.” He hummed, “Your friends mad that I tore you away?” 

“A little.” Jisung smiled, “But I think it’s worth it. Are yours?”

“A little.” Minho repeated, laughing as he crawled on the bed, “But I know it’s worth it.” 

Jisung watched him as he crawled over him, arms caging him in as he wasted no time crashing their lips together again. Minho picked up where they left off, letting their hips rut together once again, smirking into the kiss at how quickly Jisung was whimpering again. 

Minho was gonna drive him crazy. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” 

“Stop asking me questions,” Jisung panted, “Just do it already. Everything.. God..”

Minho raised an eyebrow, pulling away to lift the shirt off, throwing it onto the floor with no care for the clean clutter-free space. Jisung’s pants were next, unzipped and thrown somewhere in the blink of an eye. 

“Fuck,” Minho whispered as he soaked in Jisung’s body, “There are so many things I wanna do to you.”

“Do them.” Jisung was unable to keep still, reaching out to pull Minho back down, “Everything. Anything you want, hyung, please.” 

“Anything?”

“I’m all yours for the night..” 

“What if I want you longer than that?”

Jisung groaned, using all the strength he had to grab onto the man and flip them over. He straddled him, Minho’s hands gripping onto his hips. This position was even better, Minho’s big eyes looking up at him with admiration, a drunk smile on his face. The blonde hair that Jisung has quickly become obsessed with was messy, some strands sticking to his forehead. 

“You don’t mean that.” Jisung hummed, slowly beginning to roll his hips against Minho, smirking when he felt him harden in his jeans. 

“I do..” Minho breathed out, guiding Jisung’s movement and letting himself grind up with him. 

“You barely know me..” He moved faster, hungry to feel more as his hands laid flat on Minho’s chest, “You’re drunk.” 

“Maybe.” Minho’s composure was cracking, a breathy grunt encouraging Jisung to keep moving, his fingers digging into his hips, “I wanna know you.” 

“Fuck me like you mean it, and maybe you will.” 

Minho moved quickly, looping an arm around him and easily lifting him up, shoving him back down into the mattress. Jisung gasped, laughing at how quickly Minho was discarding his clothes. 

“You keep talking like that, and you’re in for a long night.” Minho huffed, reaching over and digging into his nightstand, pulling out lube and a condom. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Jisung scoffed, attempting to sit up before Minho pushed him back down. 

“A promise.” His voice was sweet, not matching the darkness in his eyes at all. Jisung just laid there only propped up by his elbows, desire eating him whole, watching as Minho yanked down his boxers. Jisung’s eyes widened when his length slapped against his stomach, trying to hold in a moan. Minho smirked, taking in Jisung’s reaction. 

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up..” 

Jisung couldn’t stop staring. His eyes grazed over every breathtaking inch, breath hitching as he watched the drop slide down his already neglected tip. He was just as eager, just as hungry, every part of him needed to devour Jisung at that moment. 

“Gonna stretch you real good, jagi, don’t worry.. I’ll make sure I fit..” 

The words shot a chill down Jisung’s spine, pathetically whimpering as his head tipped back. Just the way Minho spoke had embers sparking that hadn’t been ignited in years, to be spoken so delicately like the words weren’t filthy enough to make him squirm. 

“Please hyung..” He choked out, legs spreading instinctively, the material of his boxers getting tighter against his hardened bulge. 

Minho acted— wordlessly tapping on Jisung’s hips to lift them, swiftly yanking the barrier away and smirking at the state of Jisung’s cock. There wasn’t a subtle bead of pre-cum on his head like Minho’s, instead dribbles already coating his length, physical evidence of how badly he needed to be touched. 

“Desperate little thing..” Minho licked over his lips, hands slapping down on his thighs, massaging into the meat of his toned legs and spreading them further. 

Jisung felt exposed. Every bit of him was being inspected and explored in ways by a new man, the experience exciting and terrifying all the same. Minho looked at him like he was brand new, something beautiful, something he could ruin. The attention was intoxicating, Jisung wanting to do anything he could to soak in more. 

“So fucking pretty..” Minho practically growled, reaching over to grab the lube and squirting a generous amount on the tip of his finger. Teasingly, he circled around Jisung’s hole, laughing meanly at the way his body jolted in surprise.

“Hyung!” 

Jisung clenched around nothing, body practically begging for anything to relieve the tension burning through his veins. Minho didn’t give in that easily, humming nonchalantly before gently slapping Jisung’s hole. 

“Minho!” Jisung gasped, legs trying to close. Minho was having none of it, one hand gripping tightly onto his knee and slamming it back down onto the bed. 

“Let me play with you, baby..” He cooed, “Trying to prove how badly I want you..” 

There was no point in resisting, not that he wanted to, or could with how easily he held Jisung’s leg down. 

The first finger went smoothly, only taking a few thrusts for Jisung to start relaxing and moaning from the sensation. Minho was slow, quite gentle with his moments as his one hand continued to massage his thighs. The point wasn’t to get him off, but to open him up, but Jisung felt greedy nonetheless.  

His hips did their best to push down onto the finger, eager for the speed to pick up as he quietly panted pleas. Minho didn’t entertain the gesture, just moving his hand to press down on his pelvis, keeping him still as his finger curled. 

The second came with a slight burn, Jisung’s hands twisting the blankets beneath him as Minho’s fingers spread open, his hole clenching around the intrusion.

“Relax.” Minho smiled at him, “Doing so good.. You’re gonna take me so well…”

“Wanna be good for you..” Jisung tried his best to contain himself, contain the way he was already being pushed over the edge on Minho’s presence alone. His body had never felt more relaxed, so safe in the hands of the stranger— his body drank up every bit of pleasure, his emotions only heightening the experience.

“More..” 

“Already?” Minho questioned, slowly thrusting his fingers. A third scooped up the bit of lube that had dripped out, not daring to push in yet, but pressing against him to let Jisung know it was there. 

“I need more, hyung.. God, I need all of you.. What are you doing to me?”

An innocent question, but enough to make Minho’s ears turn a bright red. He had kept his composure for the most part, the cocky attitude high and in charge. But just the smallest bit of attention on him made him blush, rosey cheeks and all. 

“Making you feel good, baby..”

“I feel fucking amazing.. Another, please..”

Who was Minho to deny him? Jisung was being sweet, absolutely melting in his hands and begging so politely for more. There was no way to resist, the third sinking in as Jisung’s back arched off the bed. The cry was a mixture of many things— pain, pleasure, the reality that nobody has ever taken the time to make Jisung feel so amazing. 

Minho leaned down to kiss him through it all, drinking down the broken cries and moans, his tongue soothing over the incoherent words he was attempting to form. Kissed him through the burn of the stretch, and only pulled away to coo at him and shushed his small complaints before pressing another peck to his cheek.

“I’ve got you..” He mumbled against his cheek, lips wandering over his face, “Hyung’s got you..”

His fingers worked like magic, making sure to prioritize stretching him open before giving him the relief of pleasure as he thrusted the digits into him. Jisung was already a mess— gasping and moaning before sharply inhaling, a small signal for Minho to slow down and kiss away the pain. 

“How do you sound so beautiful?” 

Jisung’s heart ached. 

“You’re too much..” He replied, his voice quiet and lazy as he gave into the pleasure, “Fuck, Minho..”

“How are you feeling?”

“Want you..” 

“Not yet, baby..” Minho’s fingers worked deeper, curling towards all the right spots, Jisung’s head falling back, allowing Minho to attack his neck with more kisses and licks. 

A certain spot made Jisung cry out, hands rushing to grip tightly onto the man’s back, nails digging in as waves of pleasure washed over him. He was already close, teetering towards the edge as Minho continued to perfectly hit the sweet spot, body tensing with each thrust. The pace picked up quickly from there, Jisung no longer focused on the burn, but accepting the pleasure that distracted him from it. 

“Minho– hyung–” He could hardly catch his breath, eyelashes fluttering closed. He was trying, trying to hold back the orgasm that was ready to wash him away. Trying to be as good as he can for the perfect man taking care of him. Trying not to think about how terrible of a boyfriend he was. 

Minho didn’t let up, his pace only getting quicker, moving away to fixate on every little reaction Jisung was giving him. He tried to warn him, the words failing every time, moans interrupting every letter he began to form. But Minho knew— Jisung’s legs were shaking, his back was already scratched up enough to scar, and his cock was twitching and leaking endlessly against his stomach. 

“Think you can cum twice for me, Sung-ah?”

Fuck, he’s never done that. 

“I dont– I’ve never–”

“God, who have you been hanging around with?” Minho shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed, “You are the most perfect person I’ve laid my eyes on, fuck.. And no one’s ever taken the time to make you feel like this, huh? Take their time with you? Make you cum until you see stars?”

All Jisung could do was whine. Mind mush, the words enveloped him in a tight hold, knocking the air out of him as his legs once again tried to squeeze closed. This time, Minho let them, trapping his hand between his legs and keeping him there as he slammed the three fingers into him. 

“Where have you been all my life, jagi? Could’ve shown you how good you deserved to be fucked ages ago..”

“I’m gonna–”

“Answer my question.” Minho interrupted, fingers pulling out to once again slap over his hole, “Are you gonna cum twice for me?”

“Fuck– yes just–”

“Louder.” Another slap, much harder this time, Jisung’s cock twitching with the feeling.

“Yes! God just let me cum, please!”

Without warning, Minho pushed three fingers back into him, giving him no room to adjust as he slammed into him with no mercy. It didn’t take long— just a few perfect drives against his prostate— before Jisung was spilling all over his stomach. 

It was euphoric, Jisung feeling as light as air. He couldn’t tell how loud he was being, but by the way Minho gently cupped a hand over his mouth, it had to have been loud enough to alert the neighbors. But he didn’t care, he couldn’t, not with the way his hips bucked wildly against his fingers, determined to drag out the pleasure for as long as he could.

And Minho let him, perfectly riding out his orgasm and intensely watching as Jisung tried to trash around under him. The feeling weighed down him like a blanket, like every little tension or tweak in his body had been temporarily numbed and replaced with giddy contentness, Jisung already fucked out of his mind. 

The cries and curses dwindled into tired whimpers as his legs slowly went limp, once again spreading and falling back down onto the bed. Minho stayed there, fingers still as they laid inside him, letting Jisung fully relax before slowly pulling them out. 

“That was perfect..” Minho mumbled, leaning over to press a soft kiss against his forehead, “You’re so incredible..”

“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life..” Jisung croaked, throat already dry from the screams. 

“And we’re not even done..” Minho gave his thigh a small slap, “If you’re still up for it, that is.. We don’t have to, I’m happy to end it her–”

“Don’t be stupid..” Jisung giggled, “Look at you. It’d be torture to leave you like this..”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jisung.. I just liked making you feel good, if you’re too tired we can stop..”

Jisung smiled, admiring how selfless the man was. He wanted to push himself, he needed to feel how full he’d be with Minho’s cock inside of him. Jisung allowed himself another glance, Minho’s length red and angry against his stomach, ready to drive itself into him and chase the orgasm he desperately needed. 

“I need you inside me. Like.. Yesterday.” Jisung scoffed, “Fuck.. Come on, before I get soft..”

“Needy-”

“Hyung!”

Minho smirked, settling himself between Jisung’s legs and grabbing the condom. Jisung watched as he tore the wrapper open, rolling the rubber down his length and lubing himself up. He was anxious, biting down on his lip as Minho positioned himself closer. A few strokes made the man grunt, pressing the tip against Jisung. 

Jisung braced himself, relaxing his body and letting out a soft sigh. Sweetly, Minho laid down, pressing their bodies together as he slowly inched himself inside. Jisung sucked in a breath, hands going back to their respective place on the man’s back. Minho closed the space as best he could, letting their foreheads rest against each other as Jisung took him inch by inch. 

The mixture of small gasps and pants filled the room, both of them too focused on feeling every inch of each other. Jisung whined softly at the stretch, Minho softly shushing him as his nose brushed against Jisung’s. This was all so intimate, passionate in a way that made Jisung’s chest burn. There were many times Jisung had been thrown onto the bed, fucked and then pushed to the side. 

But Minho was taking his time. Making sure Jisung was ready, stopping for a moment every time one of his noises were a little more painful. He didn’t have to, Jisung thought, he’d take everything Minho would give him. 

“Doing okay?” Minho whispered, “You feel so good, fuck..” 

The overstimulation set in as Minho bottomed out— Jisung was full, incredibly full. He swears he could feel Minho on every inch of his body, and somehow he was still silently begging for me. 

“I’m okay..” Jisung’s voice was as shaky as the rest of his body, “Move, please..”

Minho couldn’t help but moan, pressing their lips back together as his hips pulled back, a single harsh thrust jolting Jisung’s body. With his hips pressed perfectly against his ass again, grinding against him, Jisung practically mewled against Minho’s lips. Greedily, in the middle of Minho pulling back out, Jisung’s legs wrapped around his waist. The motion sent him slamming back in, both of them moaning out against each other. 

“Fuck me, hyung.. Don’t gotta be gentle just– use me, please–”

Minho muttered something Jisung didn’t care to understand, all he could focus on was the way his hand was grabbing and digging into his outer thigh. The other snaked up to loop through Jisung’s brunette strands, gently petting him before gripping tightly, yanking his head back. Minho nosed his jugular, his tongue rolling out and flattening as he licked a stride up his neck to his jaw. 

The thrusts got snappier, Jisung’s hands moving down to grip tightly onto his ass, using all the force he could to guide Minho harder into him. The overstimulation didn’t matter— he embraced how blurry the line was between pain and the best thing he’s ever felt, ignoring how his legs ached with how much he was tensing them. 

Jisung’s mouth hung open, drool pooling at the side of his mouth, Minho greedily licking the spit up and swallowing it down before resuming to bite down at the thin skin covering his jawline. It was filthy, disgusting really, but it had Jisung reeling as Minho continued to drive his cock into him. 

“So fucking good for me,” Minho moaned out against his neck, the man surprisingly more vocal than Jisung thought he’d be, “Like that, huh? Does my baby like it rough?”

Tears formed in Jisung’s eyes as he nodded, vision clouded as he looked at Minho. The grip on his hair released, Jisung’s head falling back, Minho’s hands perfectly clasping around his exposed neck.

 The rings that decorated Minho’s fingers felt cool over the heat that radiated off Jisung’s neck, eyes fluttering closed as the feeling of metal made his cock twitch. The hold wasn’t tight, his hand simply lying there as his thumb rubbed over his carotid, pushing down to feel their pulses mesh. 

“Do it.” Jisung gasped out, “Choke– choke me..”

Minho just stared. Stared in awe, surprise, every emotion conveyed in those beautifully dark eyes present on his face. There was no way this was the same man he saw at the club, right? That’s what Jisung could sense Minho thinking— there was no way the man that went bright red at the slightest bit of flirting was laying beneath him, taking his cock like he was made for it, and was asking to be choked. 

“Am I dreaming?” Minho scoffed, but there was nothing funny about it. His voice was awfully serious, at that, peering into Jisung’s tear filled eyes and letting those decorated fingers put pressure against his throat. The feeling had Jisung inhaling, and exhaling with drunk giggles. 

The combination was too much. Minho’s hand on his throat, his cock slamming into him with a messy rhythm, and the way Minho was looking at him like he was something straight from heaven. Without knowing, Minho was making up for months without the attention he knew deep down he deserved. How cruel of the universe to remind him what perfection looks like. 

But there was no time to think about that, there was no time to think about anything. Minho had him exactly where he wanted, each thrust harder than the last. His cock was driving into him like it’s only purpose was to carve its feeling into Jisung and leave him aching for more. Every little noise that Minho let out was like a forbidden sound, one that Jisung knew he’d be chasing for the rest of the time.

“Close, fuck, I’m so close..”  Jisung’s back lifted off the bed, Minho’s hand catching underneath the small of his back to hold him up, the angle perfect for him to guide the slams into the same spot as earlier. Each nudge against the nerve forced cries from his throat, screams that were sure to pierce the thin walls of the apartment complex. Everyone would know. Everyone would hear the name of the man pushing Jisung farther than he’s ever gone.

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah, gonna cum again on my cock?”

Skin slapped against skin, Minho’s hips breaking up every few hips to grind himself and prove just how deep inside Jisung he could get, slamming against his prostate with no remorse. Shaky hands slid up Minho’s body, grabbing ahold of his cheeks and yanking him back down for a kiss.

It was almost symbolic that Minho’s lips were the last thing needed to push him over the edge, those perfect lips on his enough for Jisung’s body to force out another mind-numbing orgasm. It was better than the last, cum spurting out from his already wet and leaking dick, pooling on his stomach and dribbling down onto the once-clean and neat blankets below him. 

Every second Jisung thought the high was over, the feeling would pass, the pleasure would stop, it didn’t. The feeling was insistent, a second-wave crashing over him as Minho continued his brutal attack on his prostate, never letting up as he chased his own orgasm. Every other thrust forced out another string of cum, Jisung’s body overloaded on pleasure as Minho’s jaw clenched underneath his hold.

“Fuck.. Fuck Jisung.. Gonna- holy fuck–” Minho’s body shuddered, both hands falling to hips and lifting him up once more before slamming himself as deep as he possibly could, making Jisung squeal, “Cumming- I’m cumming–”

Jisung could feel the way his cock pulsed and twitched, Minho keeping him perfectly in place as he emptied himself into the condom. The sounds were perfect, music to his ears, a string of deep moans that cracked into breathy gasps. It was cute, Jisung thought, watching Minho fall apart. His hair stuck to his forehead, some strands in his eyes, Jisung quickly brushing them away so he could look into his eyes as the pleasure overtook him.

The poor bed. Jisung tried not to laugh out loud at the thought, slowly coming to and realizing just how loud the mattress below them was. The squeak of the springs, the slam of the headboard, and Jesus, Jisung could even swear he felt the scoot of the bedframe with a particularly rough thrust.  Even riding out his high Minho was rough, using Jisung’s hole to milk out every last drop. Minho’s eyes were trying their best to stay open, to stay with Jisung through the aftershocks, Jisung smiling as they both slowly found their composure.

“There you go..” Jisung hummed, “Kinda wish you could’ve filled me up..”

Minho panted, shaking his head and letting their noses bump against each other before tiredly laughing.

“Can’t just say stuff like this, Sung-ah..”

“Mm.. Welcome back to earth, Minho-hyung..”

Jisung giggled at the little glare he received, gently petting down the messy hair that Minho’s acquired, he couldn’t imagine the state of his own. There was a look of bliss on the man's face, the afterglow of their little hookup heavy on his face. As heavy as Minho’s eyes, head falling forward to nuzzle against Jisung’s shoulder and yawning. 

“Tired already?” Jisung teased, “Yeah. You’re definitely older.”

Minho gave his hip a smack, pulling away to scowl at him before Jisung pressed forward to kiss the frown away. It worked, Minho’s lips upturning into a giddy smile as they lazily kissed. 

“You’re incredible…” Minho mumbled into the kiss, pulling away to press a soft peck to the tip of Jisung’s nose, “Seriously. Are you real? Has this all been a dream?”

“Mhmm..” Jisung smiled, wincing and gasping as Minho slowly pulled out, “I was sent here to invade your thoughts, hyung. My real job is to let you know that you’ve overslept and your boss has actually been spamming your phone for about an hour now.”

Minho grimaced as he pulled the condom off, tying the end of it and leaning over to discard it in the trash. Reaching into his side drawer, he pulled out a few tissues, cleaning over his softened length and chucking it. He was much sweeter with Jisung, delicately wiping against his skin and getting him as clean as possible. 

 Jisung just watched, legs spread as the soreness settled in, silently mourning the loss of the best cock he’s ever had inside of him. 

“Don’t bring up my boss when you’re laying naked in my bed.” Minho shivered, pretending to gag before his hands landed on Jisung’s thighs, “But, I suppose if this is a dream, I hope I never wake up..”

Minho’s hands massaged at his sore thighs, fingers digging into the meat of the muscle to release the tension that was starting to set. Jisung hummed happily, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Minho sleepily stared off into space. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung laughed, “You are absolutely adorable when you’re tired.”

“Not tired..”

“Lay down, hyung..”

“Don’t want you to be sore in the morning..”

This had to be a joke. What was the catch here? What part of Minho wasn’t perfect? 

“I’m tired too.. I wanna sleep..”

Truthfully, Jisung was craving a few more hours getting his fill of Minho. He knew that they were meant to part their ways after this, especially with all the things Jisung had to deal with when he got home. So, selfishly, he felt the need to squeeze every bit of attention he could get from the man in the small time they had.

But Minho was slowly blinking, his head kept falling towards the side, and he slurred his speech even worse than he did at the peak of his intoxication. It was fucking adorable. Jisung slowly sat up, gently moving Minho’s hand away and placing one on his chest. Tiredly, Minho watched, humming curiously before Jisung pushed him down onto the pile of pillows below them. 

It was almost instant the way Minho curled up, laying on his side as Jisung yanked the blankets down and crawled in beside him. Jisung could hardly contain his squeal when Minho yanked him close, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling his nose against his hair. Jisung felt protected, his body relaxing like it was the first time it felt safe. 

“I really meant it, Sung-ah..” Minho tiredly mumbled, “I really, really meant it..”

“Meant what?” Jisung could feel his chest tightening. 

“I wanna get to know you. I don’t want this to be a one night thing.. Maybe I’m selfish, but fuck, somethings telling me I can’t just let you go…”

You have to. Those words were on the tip of his tongue, but Jisung swallowed them down and hid them away. Because he didn’t want that. What he wanted was just as selfish as Minho. It’s crazy how big of a wakeup call this all was— how much more comfortable he felt in a stranger’s arm than he ever felt next to his boyfriend. 

Boyfriend.

The boyfriend that was waiting for him at home. The boyfriend that had been there for Jisung’s lowest moments. The boyfriend who thinks he’s at his apartment, in his own bed, sleeping soundly next to the mountain of plushies Min-Jun bought for him. 

The boyfriend that hurt Jisung. That never listens, never learns. 

It’s hard to feel guilty about it. Min-Jun had checked out of their relationship long ago, and had only cared enough to put on a mask that would slip away as soon as it was secured. It was easy to ignore for all those years, because Jisung had nothing to compare it to. As painful as it all was, maybe love was meant to be complicated. Maybe Jisung wasn’t worthy of a stress-free life like that. 

But Minho.

God, Minho.

The man that’s holding him so tight he can’t breathe. The man that had shown him what true passion feels like, how good it can feel. Minho, who was kissing his head over and over as a silent plea for Jisung to stay. 

And he will, for the night. Because as selfish as it was, he needed to live out that fantasy. Even if it lasted less than 24 hours, and the night next would be spent in the arms of a man who never truly loved him. Even if he’d have to live the rest of his life wondering if Minho was the sign he needed. Even if it made Jisung the villain, he needed this. 

“I want that too.” Jisung finally got out, “So bad. I don’t think you understand everything you’ve changed for me tonight.”

He didn’t get a response. Minho’s snores were quiet, but breathy enough to tickle the back of Jisung’s head. The grip on his arms got loose, but still secure enough to keep Jisung tight against his chest. He was asleep. 

Jisung would soon be too, the tiredness settling into his body as it got heavy. The anxiety that was supposed to be looming wasn’t there, because tomorrow didn’t exist. It was all about now, where was at the moment, and who he was with.

For the night, he repeated to himself, just for the night.