Archive of Our Own

Minho loves Jisung. There’s no doubt about that, it’s been a fact, the truth, universally acknowledged by everyone around them besides Jisung himself, who’s painfully oblivious to Minho's yearning. Yes, Minho yearns strictly in private, yes, the only inkling Jisung would’ve gotten that Minho is painfully, hopelessly, so far gone for him is all the flirting that they do on an hourly basis which Minho simultaneously hopes Jisung thinks is and isn’t satire at the same time. 

It's confusing, he knows. He's confused, too.

But what’s more confusing is the knock Minho receives on his bedroom door that evening. He’s towelling his hair dry after coming out of the shower, prepping his laptop to watch a film because he thinks Jisung is jerking off and while he usually enjoys watching movies and series with Jisung because he’s so reactive and likes to ask questions the whole way through (which most find annoying but Minho finds hopelessly endearing), he doesn’t exactly want to interrupt. 

It’s unusual for Jisung to knock anyway, but he comes in without an invitation, greeting Minho with a bright, “Hi, hyung!” and sprawls out on his bed.

Minho, obviously, is the last person to object to Jisung coming anywhere, especially in his room, but precisely 20 seconds ago, Minho was in the shower fisting his cock with his face painted pink with shame over the thought of Jisung doing the same in the confines of his own room. Having the man in front of him so quickly after climaxing to the thought of his flushed face and high pitched whines feels like he’s crossing an invisible boundary.

“Hi, Jisungie," he says, feigning nonchalance as he faces him on the bed.

“I was wondering,” he starts, fixing Minho with an almost strained look, “if you’d want to have sex with me.”

…What?

That is the last thing Minho could have ever anticipated to come out of Jisung’s mouth. 

Jisung wants to have sex? 

With him? 

With the virgin loser that just so happens to be Lee Minho? Who fantasizes about fucking his bandmate so often it’s a wonder his cock hasn’t fallen off yet? Who’s so far gone for his best friend that he doesn’t see how bad of an idea this could possibly be?

Minho can do nothing but gape whilst Jisung blushes and rushes to cover up his tracks.

“I mean! Not if you don’t want to! Of course! I just thought, since you’re experienced and all, you might want to help me. Y’know..” he says, trailing off, “Prepare.”

Jisung thinks he’s experienced? Well, not to toot his own horn or anything but he is pretty well endowed if he does say so himself, and it comes with being best friends to have seen your best friend’s cock a few times, so he knows Jisung knows. 

But, prepare for what? Who, more likely? A future boyfriend? A current boyfriend?

This is a bad idea. 

He’s going to say no.

He should say no. 

“Yes!” he blurts, without a second thought. You didn’t really think he was going to say no, did you? “Of course. I'd like to have sex. With you. Because I’m very experienced.” he says, very inconspicuously, and Jisung practically beams. 

“Really? Okay! Okay. Like.. Now?” he says, and Minho blinks quickly. 

An experienced person would say no. An experienced person would say let's start off slow. A virgin would say please stop talking or my cock might burst thinking about you naked. 

He drops the towel down onto his desk and sits down next to Jisung, the bed dipping where his weight presses down onto the mattress.

“Maybe let’s start slow, Jisungie.” he says, maintaining eye contact even though he can feel himself chubbing up a considerable amount for such a simple conversation in his trousers. He hopes they’re baggy enough to hide any incriminating evidence, but for good measure, he crosses his legs pretzel-style on his bed, pulling the fabric at his crotch taut.

“This means there has to be a lot of trust on both sides if you want me to take your virginity.”

Minho’s not experienced, but he’s definitely thinking about Jisung naked. Flushed and pretty, mouth pulled into an ‘o’ as he’s fucked pliant and dumb, too fucked out to say anything but—

His train of thought is interrupted when he notices Jisung looking at him strangely and Minho realises Jisung never outwardly said he wasn’t a virgin, that was just Minho’s wishful thinking filling in the gaps and making his big stupid mouth move before his brain caught up.

But the look is gone as quickly as it came, and Jisung’s mouth is pulled into a heart shaped smile. 

“Yeah. Of course I trust you, jagi. A lot.” he says, offering a more cautious smile, and Minho can feel his heart swelling against his ribcage. 

“That’s good,” he muses, and he’s toying with the idea of suggesting kissing, but frankly Jisung’s already so close, smelling like cherries and cream and something saccharine, and there’s a chance he may combust if he shifts anywhere near Minho’s lap.

“Do you want to kiss? Maybe? Just to see if I like it?” Jisung offers instead, and Minho just stops himself from exhaling a large breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“You could talk me through it?” Jisung adds, looking up at Minho hopefully and the thought of talking Jisung through anything was enough to have him nodding eagerly, gripping Jisung’s waist with deft fingers and shifting him onto his lap.

For the record, Minho hasn’t kissed anybody before. Well, technically he kissed Chan once, drunk and because Changbin dared him to, and even though it, considering the circumstances, wasn’t a bad kiss, per se,  nothing can compare to the brush of Jisung’s lips against his own, the press of his chest against Minho’s, and the grasping of his shoulders that made Minho want to buck his hips up into Jisung. 

His skin is soft and smooth, Minho runs his hands up Jisung’s arms and sneaks them under his shirt to get a feel of the bands of muscle there. The feeling is euphoria for all of 7 seconds, until Minho realises he doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. Jisung’s there, darting his tongue out near Minho’s earlobe and nipping at his bottom lip like a professional, and Minho’s just sitting there like a loaf of bread, doing nothing but hardly responding to the press of Jisung’s lips on his own. 

It’s embarrassing, frankly, that Jisung’s so good at this even though he asked Minho to ‘talk him through it,’ so he pulls back for a second, scanning Jisung’s flushed, pretty features before kissing him again. 

It’s messy, a clash of teeth and spit when Minho meant for it to be softer than that, but Jisung seems to mistake this for newfound passion, kissing back fervently and moaning into Minho’s mouth when he mirrors Jisung’s previous action and swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, prompting him to open his mouth. Minho presses a kiss to Jisung’s jaw, then suckles gently when he hears Jisung let out a faint “hnngh一” from the contact. 

“You like that?” Minho murmurs against Jisung’s lips and actually, that was very cringe and he hated that but Jisung just chuckles breathily, saying, “Yes, hyung,” in a voice too fond to have been put off.

Minho pulls him closer by the waist, shifting Jisung fully onto his lap now, inhaling deeply as he tries his best to suck a mark into Jisung’s neck like they do in the movies. It’s working, if Jisung’s pretty noises are anything to go by, and by the time Minho’s tongue is back in Jisung’s mouth, there’s a red mark nestled in the curve of his jaw that was sure to bruise come morning. 

Jisung presses his hips expertly down on Minho’s thigh, moaning at the friction and Minho thinks he hears a little “Please,” whispered against his lips. He might die, he thinks, but at least he’ll die with a hard cock and Jisung’s tongue down his throat.

It’s a very funny feeling, actually, having your tongue in such close proximity with someone else’s, but Minho never considered the possibility of another human being tasting fucking delicious. God, Jisung tastes like honey and something sweeter, and he doesn’t even realise that Jisung’s pulling back until he’s mourning the loss of his saccharine mouth.

He giggles shyly, flushed pink under Minho’s dim ceiling lights, and Minho thinks he can’t look much more beautiful.

“You’re a good kisser, Jisungie,” Minho breathes, voice low and kissed raw, and he can’t believe he’s saying those words because at least a day ago the prospect of kissing Jisung was something Minho hadn’t even believed would ever become a possibility. 

“So are you,” Jisung smiles, and with the high of kissing wearing off, Minho feels the semi he’s developed pressing into Jisung’s thigh. Minho’s sure he was a terrible kisser. Although he can’t see very clearly, he’s sure his saliva is all over Jisung’s face right now.

If anything, Jisung’s a virgin too. Which, by process of elimination, must mean that Minho’s minimal experience was nothing short of mind-blowing, and he preens a little at the thought of being able to please Jisung in such a way.

Anyway, if Jisung noticed either of those things, he doesn't mention it, because he just shifts off of Minho’s lap and curls into his side. 

It’s probably just past eleven pm now, and Jisung’s stifling a yawn. Minho, on the other hand, is wide awake. Jisung is swollen-lipped and messy haired and curled up on Minho’s chest, sleepy, soft and pliant and Minho’s stiff as a board and only getting harder. An arrangement such as this one, where Jisung and Minho can make out and sleep together and cuddle one another can’t be good for Minho’s weak and fragile heart. But he tries to get over it, thinks about maybe what he should say because surely they have to discuss this more, right?

“Jisung, are you sure you want to give this to me?” he says, and his words hang unsteady in the quiet of the room.

“Yes. I am. I really am. I trust you, hyung. More than anyone else.” 

Jisung shuffles closer to Minho, whispers into the crook of his neck, “I want it to be you first.”

Minho doesn’t know how to interpret that, passes it off as Jisung meaning he just wants to practice before his prospective suitors, so he kisses the crown of Jisung’s head, and tries to focus on the croaky, “G’night, Minho hyung,” coming from Jisung’s lips while he fastens his eyes shut. 

“Goodnight, Jisung,” Minho hums, and has to physically stop himself from tacking on an “I love you,” to the end of that sentence. Whilst it isn’t an unusual thing for them to say to each other, the sentiment feels too real to speak into existence. Minho just closes his eyes, flexes his right arm and falls right into the waiting arms of sleep.

Minho wakes up to Jisung already gone, the blankets fixed neatly so that Minho wouldn’t be roused from his slumber. Minho drags a palm down his face in an attempt to wake himself up fully, and the events of last night hit him like a freight train. 

Kissing Jisung. Feeling him grind down on his thigh, sucking a hickey into the soft skin of his neck and then falling asleep with the man himself in his arms. God, he can’t get hard, it’s only nine thirty in the fucking morning. To distract himself, he goes to see what Jisung’s up to.

Clearly, not a good idea if he wants to get rid of his boner, because Jisung’s at the stove, scrambling eggs with a spoon and looking very determined. He can just see the hickey on Jisung’s jaw, blooming crimson in the light of early morning. 

“Hey, you,” Jisung says, craning his neck to greet Minho, still whisking the eggs in the pan. 

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” he says, tossing the spoon in the sink, “but I keep burning the eggs.” Usually Minho would laugh at him a little, flick his forehead maybe and then cook a three course meal, but Jisung looks so dejected he doesn’t do anything besides nudge him gently to the side with his hip and adjust the heat on the stove. 

“Try that. It’s kind of finicky but I think it listens to me,” he says, smiling, and Jisung kisses the smile right off his face. 

Woah. Okay. So that’s a thing they’re doing now. Regular kisses, in the daytime and not a thing where it only happened once in Minho’s bedroom after eleven pm under the light of the stars or whatever.

Jisung’s back is facing Minho and he doesn’t really know whether to say thank you or cry, so he just sits down at the dining table and eventually, Jisung scrapes what looks like something edible onto the plate in front of him. Of course Minho’s going to wolf it down like it’s the best meal he’s ever eaten. 

“I wanted to thank you for doing this for me,” Jisung says, spearing some of his egg on his fork and looking at Minho sheepishly, and Minho can overlook this whole thing being some sort of big favour if it means seeing Jisung’s pretty, nervous face all the time.

“Because. You know. You’re doing so much for me and I get if you think it’s weird or whatever.” he says finally, looking down, and there are so many things Minho could say.

I love you so much it hurts, or There’s nothing I’d like to do more than fill your virgin hole, but he doesn't say either of those things.

Instead, he places a hand over Jisung’s and says, “You have nothing to apologize for. I trust you so much, and I know you know what you’re doing, so we can do what you like.” Minho doesn’t really think Jisung thought this through, actually, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Jisung brightens up significantly, flashing Minho a wicked grin from across the table. 

“Anything I like?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and Minho huffs out a laugh. He didn’t take Jisung to be some sort of succubus, but the last thing he’s going to do is complain. 

“Anything.” Minho says seriously, pointing his fork at Jisung. 

“Alright, hyung,” he says conspiratorially, eyes flicking back down to his half finished eggs and spearing a piece slowly, “You’ll get sick of me, but you’re not allowed to rescind your offer.” he says, lightheartedly.

Minho would never. He could never get sick of Jisung.

And for the next week and a half, Minho is glued to Jisung’s proverbial hip. They kiss. A lot. There’s copious amounts of kissing, so much so that Minho’s started to salivate whenever he sees Jisung.

However, Jisung’s streak of being almost suspiciously sexually competent has still not let up, and it’s starting to drive Minho insane.

He’s taken Minho’s cock down his throat without gagging at least three times now, and claims to have “watched a video or two” on it. 

Minho doubts very much that porn has the ability to get rid of one’s gag reflex, so he reckons he might have had help from Lixie in that respect. 

He’s kind of sour that he couldn’t have that first, but he can’t be too greedy. He’s still taking Jisung’s virginity, right?

Yesterday, however, he finally managed to get his own hands on Jisung’s cock. Jisung’s bulge was pressing into his thigh and he really couldn’t ignore it when Jisung was grinding down on his thigh so prettily and whining sweetly, could he? 

So he swallowed down his nerves and pulled down the front of Jisung’s sweats, eyes locked onto the place where his cock sprang free.

Minho was pretty confident about his handjob abilities, not that he’s tried it on anyone else besides himself (how sad?) but the way Jisung was arching desperately when he came, looking almost disoriented basking in the afterglow, he thinks he can say he did a good job. 

He did, by the way. Good enough of a job that Jisung said “Another. Please, hyung,” with watery eyes at least twice after Minho had finished wiping cum off his chest. His refractory period was shockingly tiny, and Minho was surprised he wasn’t limp and boneless after the third orgasm.

No, he just thanked Minho sweetly and curled into his side, carding his hands through Minho’s hair. 

And that was another thing. Jisung’s seemingly subconscious domestic tendencies were driving Minho up the wall. They’d watch a film or something and Jisung would find an excuse to press lazy kisses to Minho’s jaw like one might do to their lover. Minho, whilst he would enjoy being that to Jisung, won’t delude himself and act like he’s not basically prepping himself to hand Jisung over to some other guy. 

But still, it gets so hard sometimes that Minho has had to leave the premises on one or two occasions, lest his boner become a threat to anyone's eyes. 

Now is another one of those times (although not as hard as the others are wont to be. Heh heh.)

Minho is struggling.

Naturally, having any sort of problem, he goes straight to Chan.

They’re on a video call and both Minho and Chan are in bed, Chan with his green led lights switched on and curtains drawn at two in the afternoon, and Minho engulfed in Jisung’s heated blanket that smells faintly like the cocoa butter Jisung spreads generously on his body after he showers.

Minho’s hiding a little from Jisung, because he’s desperate to impress him and honestly, he doesn’t feel like he’s satisfying Jisung as much as he can. 

He feels terribly guilty to be stealing Jisung’s virginity away from him when all he’s given him so far are a few lukewarm make out sessions that can be nowhere near as enjoyable for Jisung as they are for Minho because of his lack of experience, and maybe one or three decent handjobs. Or four. Minho gets a bit distracted when Jisung’s writhing on his lap.

“Chan,” Minho whines, “We’re kissing at least on the hour and I can’t stop myself from getting hard every single time,” Minho says, and he’s glad there’s no such thing as embarrassment when he’s with Chan. Still, he withholds the graphic bits. Chan’s infuriatingly good at pressing Minho’s buttons.

Chan is still giving him this strange stare through the camera, and Minho narrows his eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“You said Jisung told you he was a virgin?”

“Yeah? What does that have to do with anything, besides make me hard every time I see him?”

Chan scoffs and shakes his head, leaning back against his headboard.

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you’d lost your virginity yet.”

“I haven’t. But how is he supposed to know?” Minho asks, brow raised. Chan’s acting like he knows something Minho doesn’t, and he’s infuriatingly loyal so Minho’s not finding out anytime soon. 

“You don’t think he’ll catch on?” 

“Well, no. He’s a virgin, he doesn’t know anything,” Minho says, sighing, and it sounds like Chan is trying not to laugh.

Minho doesn’t exactly see what’s funny about his frankly debilitating situation, and he shoots Chan a glare through the camera.

Chan just clears his throat.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Minho pulls a face. Chan’s being unusually unhelpful, and awfully cryptic.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He came to me saying he wants me to take his virginity. Experienced or not, am I going to say no?” Minho says, and Chan huffs. 

“Minho. Nobody just asks their friend that. The only person who’s oblivious enough to see this as a ‘friend’,” he puts this in very exaggerated air quotes, "thing is you, Minho. ”

Despite Minho’s incessant nagging, he won’t say what he means by that.

Following Chan’s absolutely stellar advice, Minho reckons he needs a bit of practice. He’s not entirely confident in his abilities just yet, in anything when it comes to Jisung. That’s kissing, thigh riding, blowjobs. Anything. So, what’s a little research? Minho reckons that’s not what Chan was getting at here, but Minho wants to be perfect for Jisung, and typically, Minho’s perfect at most things. There’s no way he’s going to fail when it comes to the one thing he wants to excel at most– and that’s pleasing the very love of his life.

So, as one does in the wee hours of the morning (or, well, as late as pro idols can stay up– it’s 10:30 pm and way past Minho’s bedtime) Minho opens his laptop in the comfort of his room, and navigates to wiki-how. 

His browser is set to incognito mode, obviously, because he wouldn’t be caught dead searching up whatever he was about to search up in explicit wiki-how by anyone. He wants to try blowjobs. What he wants, actually, is to get his mouth on Jisung’s perfect, prim little cock. But practice makes perfect and nobody knows that better than Minho.

The wiki-how article is surprisingly unhelpful, and Minho huffs in annoyance when he reads it twice over and finds his knowledge largely unaltered after doing so. He shifts under his bedsheets, annoyed.

As a last resort, Minho switches his VPN on, and pulls up twitter on a private browser. He doesn’t use the app, nor does he use much social media, (although he’s quite partial to Instagram on the infrequent occasion) but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The search query “blowjobs” has, unsurprisingly, thousands of results. Minho takes a deep breath before scrolling down. There’s a lot of shaky camera angles and shitty, homemade porn, but then again, Minho doesn’t really know what he’s looking for. He doesn’t really watch much porn, actually, in fact, he doesn’t jerk off with porn much at all. He can come easily picturing Jisung’s pretty face… which.. Is kind of immoral, he supposes. But what can you do?

With that, he finally sees something that catches his eye. The angle of this video catches the sub's face in frame perfectly, and it’s that, that grips Minho’s attention. The curve of his jaw and defined bottom lip makes him look a little like Jisung, and as the video plays and he watches his face contort in pleasure, Minho feels his cock fattening up quickly. He blinks in quick succession, before quickly restarting the video, and watching intently. The sub is lying down on white sheets that make his honeyed skin look darker with the contrast, and the dom is sat between the V of his legs. His cock is stood up against his stomach, tip red and angry, and Minho watches as the top collects the precum at the top of his cock and spreads it down the shaft slowly, as if biding his time. It’s done carefully and calculated, and it’s got Minho’s attention.

After a few flicks of his wrist, the dom gives a few licks right to the tip and the sub shudders with the sensation, letting out a small moan that’s entirely reminiscent of Jisung in similar throes of pleasure, and then sinks down entirely on the smaller’s cock, maintaining eye contact, while hands thread into his hair as if for purchase. He bobs his head lightly, teasing at first, and Minho’s watching with rapt attention– would Jisung like that? Like it if Minho maintained eye contact whilst swallowing him down?

Would Jisung like if his hands pressed bruises into his thighs, would he like if Minho’s teeth grazed lightly over his cock to help him climax? The dom had just pulled off with a wet pop, much to the clear dismay of the other man, who whined slightly in protest. Minho’s almost at full mast, but before he can do anything about it, the door to his room swings open, and Minho’s laptop slams shut.

“Hi, Minho!” Jisung says brightly, too bright for someone who should be asleep right now.

“Hi, Jisung!” Minho says, almost breathless with how close that was. “Are you alright?”

“What are you doing?” he replies, in sceptic, suspicious Korean, and Minho blinks quickly.

“Nothing! Just… watching a movie.” he says, and to absolutely nobody’s surprise, Jisung is not convinced. 

“Right, right, hyung. What movie makes you slam your laptop shut like that?” he says, coming closer. Whatever he came here to do has clearly been forgotten, and Minho shifts under his bedsheets uncomfortably, cock having sprung to life at the mere sight of Jisung. He can feel saliva pooling in his mouth— his only primal instinct is screaming at him to kiss Jisung till his lips are red and raw, to mark him, to do something to soothe his raging erection.

“Can I see?” Jisung says, sweetly, but the look in his eyes suggests he knows exactly what corner he’s got Minho backed into.

“No,” Minho says simply. Let Jisung watch the porn he was watching? That, besides being mortifyingly embarrassing, will also expose him for being a virgin loser!! Everybody knows that experienced people don’t watch porn, right? He wouldn't know, would he?

“What? Why not?” Jisung says with a pout, and then Minho kind of can’t deny him much.

He also really can’t weasel his way out of this one, so he supposes he might as well just tell the truth.

“I was watching porn.” he says, and Jisung’s not even shocked. Granted, Minho made it painfully obvious, but he could have at least acted surprised. 

Instead, he says, “Yeah. Obviously. Now, can I see?”

Minho purses his lips. It’s not as if the video screams tutorial, but it’s simple enough to garner a couple of raised eyebrows, Minho thinks, especially because he’s the critically acclaimed, ‘experienced’ one.. But then again, what does Jisung know?

With a sigh, Minho flips open the lip of his laptop and swivels it around to face Jisung, and he’s quite glad that the lights are dim enough to hide his burning face. Minho doesn’t get embarrassed— he takes things on the nose, but this… he doesn’t know how to deal with. Not like he’s ever had to show anybody what porn he’s watching— but there’s a first time for everything, he reckons.

If Jisung notices the person in the video’s face looking at all like his own, he takes the liberty not to mention it, which Minho is grateful for, 

After a beat, Jisung says, “That’s pretty vanilla, hyung. I’d have thought you’d be into kinkier stuff.” There’s a smirk on his face that suggests that he means it entirely.

Now, that piques Minho’s interest.

“Oh?” he says, voice a significantly noticeable octave lower. “Like what, Jisungie?” he says. His cock is hard, aching between his legs. Maybe it’s the universe telling him to put his practice to good use. Not like he did more than watch the video itself— but Minho picks things up quickly.

“Um,” Jisung says, noticing the switch in tone, “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do,” Minho quips, shutting his laptop and putting it to the side safely, “You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

Minho’s hands place themselves at Jisung’s hips, mimicking the way the top let his hands roam in the video. It was clearly the right choice— Jisung shudders at the simple touch, and there’s goosebumps where Minho pushes his shirt up to expose his smooth skin to the cool air. 

“Maybe,” he says, in a smaller voice, and Minho grins wolfishly. 

“Why don’t you tell me exactly what you were thinking about, hm?” The speaking part of this whole thing is what comes to Minho naturally enough, after having read the wiki-how page for it— (significantly more helpful than the one on blowjobs, by the way!!) and it works, if the foggy look on Jisung’s face means anything.

But, if Minho’s less than extensive knowledge on kink is correct, he’d guess that Jisung’s on the brink of subspace. Not good. Minho’s nowhere near experienced enough to help him through that— he wouldn’t know what to do. As nice as a blissed out Jisung sounds in theory, without the proper aftercare, Jisung would probably get hurt.

“Jisung! Are you alright?” Minho says, stroking his cheek and his sharper tone shocks him out of it.

“Yes! Yeah. Just… I’m thinking.”

“Okay,” Minho says, before adding, “Tell me if I go too far, alright?”

Jisung nods, and he’s lucid enough to make that decision.

“Now, d’you want to tell me exactly what you were thinking about?” Minho says afterwards, tone slightly more sultry, and Jisung shifts closer to Minho until he gets the hint to pull him onto his lap. He reckons his boner is the last of his problems, because if Jisung continues to shift like that on his lap anymore, his dick might fucking explode.

“You,” he says, breathy, from where Minho brushes his lips against the side of his neck, nosing against the skin of the throat there. “blowing me. Maybe spanking me if I get too loud.” he says, shakily. Minho’s cock throbs in his track bottoms, and he’s sure Jisung felt it too.

He’s also sure that what Jisung was really thinking about was a significant degree worse by the way he hesitates, but Minho decides not to press him further.

“You want me to blow you, baby?” he says, and Jisung nods eagerly.

“Please,” he begs, and moans when Minho nips his neck lightly. 

“Alright,” he says, because how could he say no when Jisung begs so sweetly? “But, maybe I’ll bend you over my knee another time.” Minho adds. Truth be told, he’s thought about spanking Jisung a stupid amount of times. He’s not going to experiment on him, though, and he’d rather try it when he knows how to do it safely. The prospect of that being the ‘next time’, however, makes Minho’s cock twitch in anticipation.

Jisung nods anyway, toying with Minho’s fingers as he shifts off his lap. Minho sinks to his knees in front of Jisung, and then, because of how eagerly Jisung looked on his hands, he offers them up to Jisung, who slots them between his lips desperately. 

“Try and be quiet for me, baby.”

He nods, and fuck, could Minho come just from Jisung suckling on two of his fingers? He slips off Jisung’s sweats and tries to ignore the swirling tongue over his fingers. Instead, he focuses on the shiny head of Jisung’s pretty cock— it’s as small and cute as the rest of him. Just like in the video, he spreads the copious amounts of precum beading at Jisung’s tip down his shaft, and jerks it a few times with his free hand, feeling Jisung moan around the other. 

It would be nice to have another free hand, to pinch Jisung’s waist or hip and watch him squirm, but he seems more than satiated being gagged with Minho’s fingers, if the moan he elicits from Jisung when he sinks his head down on his cock means anything.

He stops before he gags and is very disappointed to find that he’s only taken Jisung about halfway into his mouth. One hand of Jisung’s slides into Minho’s hair, and Minho nods sharply when Jisung double checks with him. Minho was expecting pain when Jisung tugged sharply, and not the thick waves of heat coursing through his body alongside the sharp ache of pain. He groans around Jisung’s cock and Jisung inhales sharply, before moaning when Minho bobs his head again. He smells clean, like a salty sea breeze and fruit in the morning, and it’s such a uniquely Jisung scent that Minho wants to remember it forever.

Suddenly, Minho pulls off of Jisung and looks him in the eye with a sharp, teasing look. “Does that feel good, Jisungie?” he pouts, and coos when all of Jisung’s words are an incoherent muffle. He blinks, wide eyes a little teary and oh the sight alone is going to make Minho come in his pants.

“That’s sweet, baby. You’re so pliant for me and it’s only my fingers in your mouth. I wonder how dumb you’d go if it was my cock, hm?” It’s not entirely true, not like Jisung hasn’t given him head and with skill, at that, but Jisung shudders when Minho’s lips seal around him again, and it’s MInho’s tongue swirling around the tip that shoves him over the edge– moaning around Minho’s fingers as thick ropes of cum hit the back of his throat. Clearly works then, if those breathy moans are anything to go by.

If anything, seeing Jisung in the throes of pleasure is enough to have Minho himself coming in his own sweatpants. It should be embarrassing, but he shakes and trembles through it like it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had. Jisung realises then, what’s happened, and coaxes out the last dregs with a palm over his crotch, making Minho groan and jerk weakly.

When Minho’s bones have returned to his body, there’s that look in Jisung’s eye that suggests he knows more than it seems, a probing smirk playing on his features. But, it’s gone as quick as it came when Jisung says, “Want to shower together?” and Minho presses a heartfelt kiss to Jisung’s lips, because of course he does.

If anything, Minho can’t get over Jisung. If this is a fling, he might as well say goodbye to relationships with any other man forever, now he’s got a taste of Jisung, literally. How can anybody go back after having a slice of perfection? Practising with Jisung was never going to be enough. He knows it now, he knew it then, and actually, he should call the whole thing off right now or else he’s going to break his own heart.

But, his half formed plan crumbles when he sees Jisung, sleepy in Minho’s bed when he comes out of the bathroom, leaving space for Minho to curl in beside him. Every part of his body is telling him this is what he’s meant to do, so he slips in next to Jisung and pulls him close, and his hands don’t leave his waist until they wake up in the morning.

It’s a few weeks later that Minho realises the sheer gravity of his situation. Jisung and Minho have been kissing, cuddling and basically dry humping on the daily. Granted, a bit of head is the farthest they’d gone, but Minho’s hand has been practically glued to his cock, jerking off every night after they’d parted ways like a horny, virgin loser, providing Jisung hadn’t already sucked him off beforehand, or vice versa.

Which he is, fine, but sue him.

Jisung, on the other hand, is perfect. 

His lips feel like heaven, slotting in perfectly just under Minho’s top lip, and he grinds and presses and moans in a way that drives Minho crazy. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s stayed a virgin for so long given how good of a kisser he is. 

That aside, Minho hasn't really wanted to take it further than that. He is content, kissing and being kissed by Jisung, a few hand slash blowjobs here and there, and he’s accepted that it’s all he’s going to be able to take, until he hands Jisung off to the person all this was preparing him for.

But, Minho can’t help but mourn that he’ll never see Jisung’s pretty, perfect features pulled into one of bliss and ecstasy as he orgasms from Minho’s cock pressing on his prostate. God, he’s been close, and it’s fuelling Minho’s wet dreams, but Minho always makes a move to shift off to the side if it veers in that direction.

Minho doesn’t want to take advantage of Jisung, or give Jisung the inkling that he’s taking advantage of him, so he doesn't go further than that.

He’s the experienced one here, the one that knows what he’s doing, so Jisung is going to have to spell out wanting to go further if that’s what he'd like to do.

Fortunately for Minho, that is exactly what happens.

Jisung’s back is pressed to the inside of his bedroom door, giggling as Minho nips at the supple flesh of his neck. He’s just come home from his last vocal lesson, and Minho is desperate to get his hands on him. Minho’s also gotten a lot better at this, and Jisung is moaning as a mark is sucked into his skin, high and keening, and Minho preens at his handiwork. 

“Minho,” Jisung murmurs against Minho’s lips, pushing him back slightly. “I want to do more.” he tacks on, as if Minho didn’t know exactly what he meant.

Minho stills for a split second, and Jisung pulls back further, scanning his face.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to!” he says quickly, moving his arms from around Minho’s neck. “I just thought that maybe–”

“No,” he starts, squeezing Jisung’s waist. “I do. I absolutely do,” he says, leaning down to capture Jisung’s lips in a kiss again.

“What did you have in mind?” he says, because he doesn’t trust himself not to suggest something like pressing Jisung’s face into the mattress and breeding his virgin hole, or something equally as depraved.

“I really, really want to hump your thigh,” Jisung returns, brazen and in a much more wrecked voice than Minho can handle. Minho lets out a harsh exhale of breath as Jisung bats his eyelashes in front of him. 

“God. That’s hot, Jisung,” he says after a beat, because he is incredibly hard and wants, no, needs nothing more than the image of Jisung, wet, desperate and needy, chasing his high on Minho’s flexed thigh. 

He hurries to the bed, taking Jisung with him as he sits him on his lap, and Jisung makes quick work of surging their lips together and unbuttoning Minho’s shirt, moaning into his mouth as Minho’s hands roam his body. 

From constant kissing, Minho was bound to get better at it, but he’s still a little clumsy, especially after the bus Jisung has just driven into him after saying, so casually, that he wants to hump his thigh. As if this isn’t one of Minho’s longest standing sexual fantasies involving Jisung. (One of many, sure. But still, one.)

Jisung doesn’t mind the clash of teeth, if the way he’s gasping into Minho’s mouth means anything, and in double time he’s pulling Minho’s shirt off his shoulders and throwing it onto the other side of his room. 

Jisung begins fiddling with the zip on his jeans, and it only comes down once Minho steadies his hands and does it for him, raising a brow with a look of apprehension that sends a full blown shudder down Jisung’s body. 

Jisung’s been naked in Minho’s lap before, but right now feels different. Jisung’s cock is hard and flushed pink against his stomach, small and blushing just like him. He can definitely feel Minho’s heavy gaze because he presses himself closer to Minho’s chest, desperate to get his sweats off.

Minho, on the other hand, is struggling. 

This is more than he ever expected to come out of his arrangement with Jisung, and it’s exactly what he needed. Sure, he fantasized about taking Jisung’s virginity and having him pliant and vulnerable for him to take, but he’d never expected himself to get this close to the real thing. He automatically assumed that Jisung would just come back to his senses or something, and they’d never exchange any type of bodily fluids. So, he hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls down his sweatpants, lifting his hips and Jisung up off the bed in one swift movement. 

Jisung is now fully naked, seated on an equally as bare, very hard, very horny Lee Minho.

“Hyung,” Jisung pouts, clearly impatient, “Tell me what to do.”

Okay. Now this, Minho really wasn’t expecting. Minho doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, let alone what Jisung’s supposed to do. But he’s watched enough porn of this exact scenario, imagining this very thing in the past to know what the gist is, and embarrassingly enough, he’d studied the Wiki-How article on ‘thigh humping’ multiple times, in case the need ever arose.

Minho gulps, hoping Jisung doesn’t pick up on his nerves.

“Hook your arms around my shoulders, Jisungie,” he breathes, and Jisung grips his shoulders firmly. 

“That’s it, baby. Now move your hips slightly so that your cock is between your body and my thigh.” 

Minho supports Jisung’s movement with a steady hand to his waist, and coos when he whimpers at the stimulation. 

“All you need to do now is roll your hips, baby. You’re already so wet for me, this should be easy,” Minho finishes, and despite that being a less than comprehensive guide, Jisung complies immediately, grinding his hips down expertly and whining when the pleasure finally hits. 

“Please, hyung, need you so bad..” he whines, babbles, even, already so cockdrunk (thigh drunk?) whilst Minho’s doing nothing but flexing his thigh. 

“You’re doing good, baby. So desperate for me, aren’t you? Tell hyung how good it feels.” He doesn’t know where all this is coming from, but it’s clearly working from the way Jisung grits his teeth and whines, “Good, hyung, so good, need more, please–”

Minho uses the grip on his waist to press Jisung down and aid his movement, and it works because Jisung throws his head back and moans, slumping his body into Minho’s chest. 

It’s truly a sight, Jisung leaking and messy on his lap, and Minho’s trying his hardest not to come in his pants, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the column of Jisung’s throat. Jisung’s babbling through his teeth, whining pleas of “Please, hyung, please,” as he chases his orgasm.

Minho reaches a hand between them and rubs the head of Jisung’s cock, dipping his thumb into the slip on a whim, and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, just does what he likes to do to himself when he’s jerking off, and it works. Jisung moans, a high keen that’s stuck in his throat as he comes, hot spurts of cum painting Minho’s thigh and torso white. 

His face is one of pure bliss, neat mouth pulled into a silent ‘o’ and Minho really, really can’t help it and all of a sudden, he’s coming too, completely untouched, at the sight of Jisung’s beautiful face.

He shudders through his orgasm, but his eyes are glued to Jisung’s face throughout, and he never, ever wants to forget the sight in front of him. 

Jisung, flushed and panting, head hung with a small hand gripping Minho’s pec. He looks up at Minho with wrecked eyes, blinking blearily as he rides out the dregs of his orgasm.

Minho hopes Jisung doesn’t realise the mess he’s made of himself and the sheets he’s likely going to have to burn, but Jisung pays no mind at all.

In fact, he locks his own eyes onto Minho’s as he swipes a finger through Minho’s release, collecting a healthy amount before sucking on it fervently, and pulling off with a lewd pop. His vulnerable, dumb bunny demeanour from a second ago is gone, and Minho literally groans at the sight.

“Fuck, Jisung,” is all Minho can say, and he blinks twice like he’s collecting himself, and then whispers, “Was that good, hyung?”

Minho, with the little strength he has left, scoffs out a laugh and just shifts Jisung off his lap.

What do you say after you watch your best friend lick your own cum off your chest? Thank you?

Minho opts for not saying anything, and carries Jisung to the sink in his bathroom instead. He wipes the cum off their chests with a warm cloth, all whilst Jisung’s perched on the edge of the bathtub, swinging his legs and humming a jaunty little tune that feels not very fitting for their current situation. 

An experienced person wouldn’t let Jisung just leave, and nor would Minho in any situation, so he grabs Jisung round the middle and pulls him back into bed, curling him up and peppering kisses down his throat until Jisung’s breaths even out and he’s lulled into a gentle slumber.

The next day, Jisung wakes Minho up with a soft kiss and a sleepy, dopey smile.

“Morning,” he rasps, and Minho kisses the smile right off his face.

They get ready for work quickly, Minho even has time to whip up an omelette for both of them before they’re shoved into their car on the way to work. 

The ride there is silent, but Minho pointedly sits in the middle seat next to Jisung so that he can rest his head on his shoulder, and also partly so he can sneak his hand under Jisung’s jumper and pinch his waist every so often, and watch as he yelps and tries to pass it off as a cough.

Jisung is very fun to tease. 

Throughout the day, Minho has his hands glued to Jisung’s ass, and whilst this isn’t unusual, especially for Minho, but what is unusual is the flustered response it gets Minho every time he touches Jisung’s ass. 

It’s driving Minho crazy, and also gets him a few strange looks from the members, particularly Changbin, but he chalks that up to him spending an unhealthy amount of time with Chan and his weird conspiracies. 

Minho only realises that there might actually be something wrong with Jisung around their lunch break. They’re in the company cafeteria, and Jisung is constantly excusing himself to go to the bathroom and then coming back flushed and red every time. On the third toilet break, Minho gets suspicious, understandably, and follows him upstairs. 

Jisung doesn’t hear Minho come in, but he jumps when Minho’s hands slide around his waist, and he rests his head on Jisung’s shoulder.

“What are you hiding from me, Jisung?” he says slowly, and watches in the mirror the way Jisung’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat when he gulps.

“Nothing.” he replies, a beat too slow to be feasible, and Minho raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure?” Minho purrs, snaking a hand down Jisung’s waistband and circling his hipbone. 

Jisung shudders, an indication that Minho’s right on the money. With no indication to stop, Minho lets his hand go lower and lower until his fingers are hovering over Jisung’s hole, and he can feel that it’s lube slick and there’s something hard nestled in there. 

Oh.

It’s a plug.

Minho’s confident facade threatens to vanish when his hands ghost over the plug and Jisung squirms and whines, fluttering his eyes shut. 

Woah. Okay. 

Immediately, Minho’s mind is plagued with the image of Jisung, late at night, fucking himself dumb with his fingers or perhaps a girthy dildo, messily and desperately with too much lube because he’s desperate, so desperate to be full and no matter what he tries he feels so empty一

Minho is not fucking Jisung in their company bathroom. 

But he absolutely will suck his cock in their company bathroom.

Minho double checks the door is locked before yanking his trousers down to his ankles, leaving Jisung bare and leaning against the sink. He toys with the plug a little, grasping the gem that’s poking outside of Jisung’s entrance and bullying it in and out, imagining Jisung struggling to get it in, wishing he had some help, or preferably, the real thing. 

Although Miho's only ever tried once, he's also desperate to get his hands on Jisung. And, like for most things recently, he’s watched enough porn about it to see how it works, and he’s hoping that some of Jisung’s being a natural will rub off on him. He hopes his passion will make up for his abundant lack of skill, however, as he is itching to get a taste of Jisung’s cute little cock once again.

“It’s pretty, jagi. Did you wear that for me?” Minho asks, hot breath fanning over Jisung’s hole. He’s working on keeping his voice steady but his mind is clouded with lust, eyes darkening at the sight of Jisung’s hole clenching around the plug desperately. It threatens to waver before he’s even got Jisung’s cock in his mouth. 

Even though he reckons Jisung’s slipped in the plug to get used to feeling full for his future boyfriend, Minho’s enjoying believing that it was a ploy for his attention.

And at the moment, Jisung isn’t protesting, he just squeaks when Minho grabs his waist and turns him over so the sink is digging into his lower back and he’s gripping it for stability with sweaty palms. 

Jisung’s pretty cock is basically in his eyeline, it’s at half-mast and  Minho’s making direct eye contact with the precome beading messily from the tip.

He’s ready for this. He’s even read the Wiki-How article for this, despite its mediocrity. This is what he’s trained for this whole time. 

“Did you?” Minho says, eyes flicking up to Jisung’s from where he’s positioned by his knees. Jisung’s eyebrows knit together when Minho presses the neat gem into his hole slightly further. 

“Nnghh一N一no,” he whispers, barely audible over the hum of the ventilator. There’s a bratty tone to his voice but Minho can’t hear anything after the rush of blood through his ears.

Minho lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

No?

Jisung hadn’t done this for him. 

Jisung’s wearing it for someone else, Minho’s realising, and here Minho is, eye to eye with Jisung’s cock, messy and leaking, without consent.

Fucking obviously. Who even is Minho for Jisung to wear pretty things for? This is just a favour. He should know that by now. He should fucking know that by now.

He blinks twice, wordlessly goes to stand up and turn around and leave because he’s too mortified to look in Jisung’s direction— he’d practically accosted the poor guy and pulled his pants down without warning.

“No!” Jisung practically yelps when Minho opens his mouth to apologise and leave, eyebrows nanoseconds away from creasing up into one of concern.

“I’m sorry hyung, it is for you, it is, please, ’m—” he breathes, touching Minho’s wrist, and his voice is wet and close to a sob when Minho captures his lips in a hot kiss.

There’s a brief pause, and then, “That’s right, jagi.” Somehow, he’s playing it off. Somehow, this is stranger than Jisung genuinely refusing his advances. Isn’t semi-public sex somewhere deep in at least third date territory? 

“You’re mine, right?” Minho says against his lips, feigning nonchalance by kissing Jisung again and ignoring the fact that he honest to god thought Jisung was telling him to stop. He manages to act as if it was a scolding for Jisung’s brattiness, which seems to work well enough.

“Mmh— yours, just please—” Jisung says between wet kisses, and Minho makes a quick note to re-read the wiki-how article on dirty talk. 

He re-focuses his attention to Jisung’s cock, pressed against his stomach and leaking messily.

“Can I?” he asks and Jisung nods with watery eyes, and Minho takes his whole cock into his fist. Jerks it experimentally and watches as Jisung grips the porcelain of the sink tight and sucks in a breath through his teeth. His cock twitches and Minho thinks his eyes might get lost in the back of his head. 

He licks the tip experimentally— it’s slightly salty yet Minho laps at it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Jisung swears under his breath when Minho’s teeth lightly graze over his skin when he takes him half in his throat. It was an accident, but he doesn’t miss Jisung’s cock throbbing in his mouth. 

Despite Jisung being pretty average sized, he can still (yes, even after practice. Don’t ask). only fit about half his cock in his mouth because any more and he’ll choke, and that's not really reminiscent of the experienced aura Minho’d like to exude. When he looks up, one of Jisung’s hands are snaking towards Minho’s hair— in hindsight, that’s probably a terrible idea, given they have to leave the bathroom looking somewhat presentable, but current Minho is only paying attention to the golden strings of ecstasy that wrap their way around his ribs and tighten when Jisung grips a handful of his hair, tight. He moans, a broken little noise, and there’s a sharp intake of air where Jisung stands.

Minho runs his hands in a feather light pattern down Jisung’s ribs, aching to touch him anywhere, shocked that he’s even able to do this to him a second time, have his face contort beautifully and have his mouth where Jisung’s most sensitive. Jisung’s letting out staccato little moans each time Minho bobs his head shallowly. Minho’s no expert, but he gets the impression that this isn’t the best blowjob ever given, maybe not even comparable to the first, but since this is Jisung’s second, there’s not really any competition, is there? 

This is definitely the best blowjob Minho’s ever given, given the way each tug of Jisung’s hands in his hair sends that same coursing rush of heat throughout Minho’s entire body.

“Fuck— Minho, hyung, ‘m gonna cum, I’m—” Minho cuts Jisung’s breathy pleads right off by reaching behind him to press on the plug absentmindedly. Jisung lets out a noise halfway between a guttural moan and a sharp inhale, coming out as more of a spluttering noise and it’s still the most beautiful thing Minho’s ever heard. 

His eyes flick up to meet Jisung’s own teary ones, making sure to lightly graze his teeth over Jisung’s cock before sucking harshly on the tip, and that’s the combination Jisung needs to send him careering into his orgasm, trying and failing to stop his hips bucking into Minho’s mouth.

Minho swallows quickly before he coughs, hard, still not used to having something so close to his uvula but it doesn’t go noticed because Jisung’s still panting, in the dregs of his ecstasy, and not paying attention to Minho’s spluttering.

“Minho, that was—”

Minho cuts him off with a kiss. It was probably terrible, so he doesn't want to hear it. 

“Are you alright, baby?” he says, because Jisung’s face is flushed still. He nods, then smirks slyly. He presses the heel of his palm to the bulge in Minho’s trousers, pressing hard. Minho gasps, because his own erection went mostly forgotten when he was admiring Jisung in the throes of his own pleasure, but now it is rudely demanding attention, now that Jisung’s palming it teasingly.

“Let me return the favour. Please?” he tacks on, seeing Minho’s sceptical look. It’s not as if he doesn’t want a handjob from Jisung, it’s just he’s kind of seeing how irresponsible this is— sex during company hours. Is this a good idea? What if there’s someone waiting outside to use the bathroom? Worse, what if it’s someone they know? Worse, what if they notice Jisung’s rosy lip balm staining Minho’s neck? But he hardly gets time to ponder these thoughts before Jisung practically whispers another sultry, “Please?” and snaking a hand down Minho’s trousers.

He groans, and it’s a guttural noise, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth and trying his absolute hardest to not make too much noise, lest someone actually is outside. 

“Fuck— yes, Jisung, alright–” he says, sucking a breath in between his teeth when Jisung leans him against the sink and curls a hand around his waist, bringing him closer so that he can jerk him off whilst being in comfortable kissing distance. 

Minho is absolutely not going to last long. 

Jisung’s squeezing the base of his cock expertly and flicking his wrist at the tip and smearing precum all down his length and it’s insanely hot, Minho can hardly bear to look at the man. 

“Does that feel good?” Jisung asks, and it could pass as innocent if Jisung hadn’t had such a wanton look caught in his eyes when saying it, and Minho just moans in lieu of an answer.

Looking at Jisung even now still makes his heart jump excitedly and swell, knowing that he’s the first one to have Jisung like this, knowing that Jisung chose him. Even though it’s temporary, his stubborn heart is still tied to Jisung, and so when Jisung swirls his thumb over the tip, his hips stutter into Jisung’s fist and he comes with a keening cry of “Jisung–” followed very closely by an embarrassingly high pitched moan that Minho didn’t even know was a noise he could make.

Jisung grins as he tucks Minho back into his trousers and washes his hands, expression on his face akin to pride. This, Minho can get behind because he’s just given Minho one of his most intense orgasms yet, which honestly isn’t saying much since most of Minho’s orgasms are self-inflicted anyway, in his company bathroom. 

“You’re pretty when you come,” Jisung says, smiling sweetly, too sweetly for the vile language coming out his mouth.

“You’re pretty always.” Minho says and pinches his cheek fondly. He’s dangerously fucking close to letting his fat mouth expose him from being hopelessly in love with him, and so he settles with a small, “thank you,” and a kiss to his cupid’s bow before they unlock the door again. 

Somehow, Minho manages to keep his fat mouth shut the whole way back to the cafeteria.

After Minho presses a fond kiss to the crown of Jisung’s head (that could pass as platonic, if you squint, but he reckons nobody’s looking hard enough to pay them any mind anyway), and sits him back down at the table with Felix, he rushes right back upstairs to the 26th floor, where the recording studios are.

He knows he probably sucks for leaving Jisung so soon, but he’s got a Predicament with a capital P, and it’s beneficial for both parties if he solves it right now.

Chan, no doubt, is up there right now.

He bursts through the door of the studio after spotting Chan through the glass window in the heavy doors. Chan sees him coming and takes off his headphones in anticipation, giving him a tired smile.

“Chan.” Minho says, slumping into the sofa and hugging the pig shaped cushion into his chest, pushing the second door shut behind him.

He doesn’t get to explain himself further before Chan asks, “Is this about Jisung?”

“Yes!” Minho huffs, as it's the most obvious thing in the world. Nothing motivates him more. 

“Chan, you’re not going to believe it. I一” He stops himself. Maybe he shouldn’t tell Chan he sucked Jisung off in the bathroom, he probably wouldn’t find that very professional (even though he and Changbin have likely done worse) so he errs on the side of caution and shuts his mouth.

“We, made out in the bathroom.” 

Immediately, Chan’s eyebrow is raised.

“Yes yes, we can’t get caught, whatever,” Minho says, waving a hand, ”But this time was different, Chan.”

“How different?”

“Just.. Different. Trust me. He’s so fucking good at kissing. And一 other things.” Minho swears he feels his eyes fucking gleam. He wants to tell Chan he’s in love with Jisung, but he suspects he knows that already. 

“What else did you do in the bathroom, Minho?”

“Nothing! But doesn’t the fact that he’s so good at sex like, strike you as weird?”

Chan just shrugs, but Minho knows he knows more than he’s letting on. He usually does.

“He told you he’s a virgin. Besides, maybe he just likes you enough for the passion to translate into skill. You know what they say. If there’s a will, there’s a way.” he says, and Minho looks at him like he’s grown a second head, because he might as well have.

“Right, right. You’re so right Chan," Minho says sarcastically, "Jisung likes me. That’s ridiculous. If he liked me he wouldn’t ask me to fucking train him like a dog for his future lover!” he exclaims, glaring at Chan, who rolls his eyes. “You know I love him. Why am I just giving myself false hope?” he tacks on for good measure.

Chan just sets his mouth into a line, and sighs. 

“Listen. If Changbin came to you asking you to have sex with him simply because he’s a virgin, what would you think?”

Hmm.

If Chan wanted to bring up stupid hypotheticals, he’d play along.

“He wouldn’t, because he’s not, but I’d say no. As much as I love him, I know he doesn’t see me like that.”

“And Jisung does?”

Minho looks at Chan as if he’s grown a third head on top of the second one he grew earlier, but after further consideration, that makes sense. 

A stupid amount of sense.

It’s Chan levels of Hopefulness and Sense-making, which is annoying because he always manages to make things make sense.

Minho is speechless for a while, and Chan just smirks and ruffles his hair. 

“You got there in the end, Minho.”

Minho just clicks his tongue and bats his hand away. 

But, Minho’s Chan-induced epiphany does not go forgotten. He thinks about it when he returns to their cafeteria table, all throughout vocal training and his English lessons, then he thinks about it some more when they’re in the car and Jisung’s hand has made its way to his thigh, and then it’s still on his mind when he’s licking the roof of Jisung’s mouth where he’s got him pressed against their kitchen island.

“Mmmh一 Minho一” Jisung murmurs against his lips, because Minho is desperate and craving the taste of Jisung’s irresistible mouth, and he couldn’t bring himself to even take off his shoes before he dragged Jisung to the nearest viable surface. He sucks in a breath when he pulls back and Jisung’s flushed and looking almost fucked out, face glowy and he’s offering Minho a little smile that makes his heart spasm. 

“I’m hungry,” he says, smiling sheepishly and Minho couldn’t help but giggle. He thought virgins were supposed to have this insatiable sexual appetite once they had their first sexual encounter一 or maybe that was just him, since he can’t get enough of Jisung.

They’d picked up dinner before they came home, a grease stained bag of fried chicken from Jisung’s favourite place. He’d all but forgotten about it, sitting on their kitchen island, but he couldn’t deny the prospect of food being extremely enticing right now, so he lets go of Jisung’s waist and reaches for the stack of plates in the cupboard to his right.

“Can we eat in the living room? I kinda wanna watch a movie.” Jisung asks, toeing off his shoes by the door and Minho nods.

“If you like.” Minho shrugs. He would never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with Jisung. 

“We could watch that zombie drama you’re forcing me to enjoy?”

“Pfft. Don’t be such a baby, jagi. It’s all CGI.”

“It’s so gory. I don’t know why you like it so much.”

“Yet you’re the one who suggested it… must’ve been the wind…” Jisung murmurs, tapping his chin in mock thought, and Minho rolls his eyes and shoos him away into the living room with a hand.

Once he’s plated the food, Minho manages to balance them all the way to the living room, which, admittedly, was only about three steps from the kitchen. Jisung had already assumed his position under his favourite heated blanket, and he gestured for Minho to come and sit next to him. 

“By the way, I was working out with Changbin this morning and I accidentally stole his headphones. So, I told him to come around whenever he wants to pick them up. Just FYI.” he says, picking up a piece of chicken and shredding it with his teeth. 

“Alright. He better not stay for long, because I want you all to myself tonight.”

“You’re seriously telling me you don’t want him to join in?” Jisung quips playfully, mouth full and Minho stares at him. Blinks twice, slowly.

“Minho. I’m kidding.” he laughs when Minho raises a brow, but there’s no mistaking the blush at the tips of his ears. Minho’s eyes flick back to the television, but he can still see Jisung looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type.” Jisung says after he’s nestled his head in Minho’s lap, cheek pressed against his thigh. Not the safest position for eating, but Jisung makes it work. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

Surprisingly, the next hour or so is domestic enough, with Jisung enthusiastically rooting for his favourite characters behind the screen while Minho looked on fondly. Minho, of course, manages to keep a hand on Jisung’s waist, rolling the pad of his thumb over smooth skin, and feeling as Jisung shudders ever so slightly. 

It makes him think more about Chan’s theory.

Minho has come to terms, long ago, that he’s in love with Jisung. But the thought of those feelings being reciprocated seems so unlikely Minho has trouble wrapping his head around it. Minho and Jisung have always been best friends, will always be best friends, and although Minho’s always hoped that it could be more, he’s never actually believed in it.

That’s not for lack of trying. But he’s sort of slowly realising that Jisung’s way out of his league and too good for him. He deserves someone who’s not going to lie to him about being experienced just so they can get laid. Granted, it’s not the getting laid part that made Minho lie, but the getting laid by Han Jisung part, but still. 

But, Chan still raises a fair enough point. It is kind of out of the ordinary to ask your best friend to take your virginity. Surely that’s kind of like, weird, actually? Isn’t that something you save for someone you really love? Or at least are looking to be in a relationship with? Minho wouldn’t say that Jisung doesn’t love him, but not in the way that screams Lee Minho please take my virginity. 

Unless he is?

Minho’s kind of preoccupied with his thoughts that he doesn’t realise that the episode they were watching has come to an end. He’s jolted back into reality by a wet, open mouthed kiss to his throat by none other than a very eager looking Han Jisung.

Minho doesn’t want Jisung’s first time to be on their sofa, so when Jisung presses a kiss to Minho’s hipbone and goes to take off his sweats, Minho stops him.

“I don’t want your first time to be a quickie on our living room couch, jagiya.” he says fondly, and Jisung giggles, which seems inappropriate for the situation. Minho chalks it up to nerves, which also can’t be right because Jisung is a Natural with a capital N, and he’s ninety nine percent sure he knows it.

If anything, Minho picks Jisung up bridal style and deposits him on his bed so that Minho can deflower his best friend the way he was always destined to.

An experienced person would marvel at Jisung’s body the way it was supposed to be admired.

Not like Minho needs to be anything in particular to appreciate Jisung’s abundant beauty; his hair falls around his face like a halo, his eyes are sparkling and his skin is flushed, glowy, even in the dim light of his bedroom.

He’s beautiful.

Minho gets on top of Jisung, framing his legs with his thighs and straddling him, and Jisung’s racing to pull off Minho’s shirt and get a feel of bare skin. It’s not the first time Minho’s kissed Jisung, (obviously, it feels like all he does nowadays) but this time feels different. He can feel the need static in the air, cherry sour and tasting like the sweet on Jisung’s lips. It’s turning Minho’s inner monologue into a chant of Jisung Jisung Jisung that only intensifies when Jisung’s lips are back on his again.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Minho says, because it’s true, “You should’ve let me have you like this earlier. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

If Jisung hadn’t cut him off, he’s sure he would’ve kept going on like that instead of drinking up Jisung’s moans like a starved man.

Praise. He’ll have to add that one onto the wiki-how research list.

For now, he tries the best he can.

“You're doing so well for me, jagi. Want to take these off?” Minho asks, tugging at Minho’s sweats and Jisung nods, shifting their position so he can lift his hips off the bed letting Minho slide down his sweats and underwear in one go, revealing honey, tan skin that Minho wants to bite. 

Jisung’s now completely bare, and Minho’s sat above him, shirt hanging off his shoulders and legs fully fabric clad. The dichotomy is real and it’s making Minho’s cock swell larger in his trousers. 

Jisung, as it seems, is eager to help with that. He sets to work unbuttoning Minho’s trousers, mouthing against Minho’s bulge like a man starved. The sight is pornographic, frankly, and Minho is shuddering before his underwear has even been taken off. If he cums now, he’s never going to fucking live it down. 

“Can I suck your cock? Please?” Jisung asks, voice heavy and laden with his desire. He’s not looking at Minho now, eyes instead trained on the tent in his boxers and Minho nods, then says yes when he realises Jisung’s not looking at him, dragging himself up at the headboard so he can have a better vantage point of Jisung taking his dick down his throat.

He’s grateful he did that, because the sight is electrifying. It’s not the first time, but somehow this time feels so much different than the others. The air is charged with something electric— the air is thick with lust, and maybe, just maybe, there's something else. Something lighter, saccharine, Jisung-flavoured and strawberry-scented. Minho knows for a fact, 100 percent clarity, that it is love, but he decides to ignore his pitiful predicament in favour of watching Jisung moan around his cock.

He throws his head back with vigour, forgetting about the large slab of wood behind him, and groans at the thump noise made when his head collides with the board.

Jisung does not let up. Maybe he thought that was a passion groan instead of a hurt one, which isn’t good because if he doesn’t get up soon, Minho might come or worse; Jisung might suffocate because it’s like he hasn’t stopped to breathe once and fuck, Minho is so fucking close—

Jisung squeezes his hand around the base of Minho’s cock, pulling off with a lewd pop. Minho is practically panting, eyes wet from being femtoseconds away from orgasming.

It’s not made better by the fact that Jisung’s eyes are slightly wide and watery in that rabbit-like expression, saliva surrounding his mouth and slathered over his cheeks. He’s beautiful. MInho is so, so far gone. There is no way he’s getting out of this without Jisung. There’s no way that he’s just going to hand off the most perfect, certain constant in his life to a faceless, nameless person. You must be having a laugh.

There’s more important matters at hand when Jisung practically sighs, “Please fuck me, hyung,” in a wet voice, Minho’s cock slapping against his cheek and making him messy with precum. It was a frankly pornographic sight, and Minho’s cock twitches.

“Yes, yeah, of course baby. How do you want me?” he asks earnestly, because despite this also being his first time, it is mainly Jisung’s and therefore, via process of elimination, it needs to be perfect.

In lieu of words, Jisung squirts lube onto Minho’s fingers and guides them between his legs, ushering Minho to circle his rim with his index and middle finger. Feeling Jisung’s spasm and flutter makes Minho impossibly harder, and he settles between Jisung’s legs again once more.

Now, Minho’s not at all practiced in this area, because he can’t exactly practice on himself, can he? He has, once, fyi, and that ended horribly and he’d rather not recount it (although he’s always willing to try again if it’s Jisung fingering him… food for thought) but he has read the wiki-how page and also has a bit of common sense. He starts with one finger, slow, and Jisung squirms even around that as it pistons slowly in and out of him. Jisung begs sweetly for another, then another, until Minho’s worked himself up to four and is simultaneously about four seconds from combusting.

Jisung is too– his cock is at fall mast, precum beading messily at the tip and Minho swipes a delicate finger over the top as he pulls his other hand out, wiping them clean on the bedsheets and rolling the condom into place. Jisung lets out an indignant whine at the lack of contact, but Minho replaces his fingers with his dick swiftly, pressing the blunt head in probing and teasing. He presses lazy kisses to Jisung's neck too, it feels natural and before he knows it, there's a little red mark nestled in the curve of his jaw.

“Please,” is the choked little word that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and actually, he’d be a fool not to heed that warning. So, he pushes in further, still at a slow pace, mind you, until he bottoms out. Minho wants to allow Jisung to wait and adjust— this is likely an overwhelming new myriad of sensations and feelings and pleasure, but as soon as Minho’s hips make contact with the backs of Jisung’s milky thighs, he’s instructing him to move immediately, guiding Minho away from where he's peppering kisses on Jisung's cheeks.

Obviously, who’s Minho to argue? So he starts up a lazy pace, Jisung's walls tight around his cock and his hands on Jisung’s thighs which press down hard rough to leave little thumbprint marks on the skin there, which Jisung seems to like.

“Go faster, hyung. Please. I can take it,” he whines, and then adds, “Don’t you want to?” There’s a pert little pout on Jisung’s face which Minho swears at the sight of, and Jisung gives a sly little smile when he gets the reaction he wants

Does Minho want to go faster? Is grass green? Unfortunately, Minho also isn’t looking to come in three seconds, so he speeds up as much as humanly possible, skin hitting skin in a rhythmic squelch, all a sound and pretty sight Minho could absolutely get used to. 

Jisung’s splayed out in front of him, thighs spread, cock bouncing against his stomach smearing precum all over himself, hair mussed and sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Minho reaches a hand over to pull Jisung’s hair just the way he likes, palm splayed out and gripping tight, and Jisung shudders with the contact. Minho loves how responsive he is. He likes to be touched, soft and hard, light flutters of fingers over his ribs garner a similar reaction to a hand fisting his cock. With just a hand in his hair, tugging every so often, his eyes are already scrunching shut tearily, and Minho couldn’t be happier with himself. Happy he’s able to pleasure Jisung like he deserves, happy because Jisung’s everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Even though Minho's thrusts are kind of clunnky and not really very well co-ordinated— he's never done this before, you see— Jisung doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact it's kind of like he's helping guide Minho's hips, a palm resting there to coax him forward and backward. Minho wants this to be perfect, of course he does, but he expected more liberties to have to be taken given that neither of them have done anything like this before, but the white-hot pleasure building up in his stomach tells him it's nothing short of perfect.

Jisung's letting out staccato little moans which multiply tenfold when Minho angles his hips just right— and he hopes that means he’s close because actually Minho’s been teetering on the very edge since he started. Jisung solves that fir him, as he does most things, and comes with a keening cry of Minho’s name, gripping the sheets below him. His spasming hole around his cock is enough to hurtle Minho into his own orgasm, shuddering and groaning whilst holding Jisung bruisingly tight, keeling over and kissing his chest, his shoulders, every mark on his beautiful body.

How is he supposed to let go after that? Not to say Minho’s not been in love with Jisung long before they’d ever had sex, but him being also so perfectly sexually compatible with Minho, along with all the other things he’s perfect at is doing stupid things to his head, and maybe the reason why instead of an “Are you alright?” or perhaps a “Would you like to take a shower?” he says, “I’m in love with you,” just as his spent dick slips out of Jisung.

Jisung raises himself onto his elbows, seemingly not having heard a thing and Minho’s already panicking, he can feel the already potent sheen of sweat that had collected over his brow drip down his forehead because what if Jisung actually did want to just practice and it’s only Minho who read everything wrong and maybe he should tape his mouth shut instead of letting himself speak before he thinks about the words coming out of his stupid mouth, until Jisung whips his head up straight with a “What?”

His frankly confused expression was not what Minho was expecting. Disgust, maybe, disappointment totally, but not the actual bewilderment on Jisung’s face. To hide his mortification, he ties up the condom and throws it away, not daring to glance back at Jisung who’s stayed speechless for the better part of five seconds.

“No you don’t,” Jisung says, and that makes Minho stop. He turns around, and Jisung’s sitting up properly now, fixing Minho with a calculating stare. “Minho, I know you just want to practice with me,” Jisung says, folding his arms. “You don’t have to say stuff like that just to make me feel better.”

What the fuck?

Minho drops his clothes and sits back down, stark naked and very, very worried. No way Jisung thinks that that was some sort of pity confession?

“Jisung, I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” Minho starts, cautiously, because Jisung has a habit of shutting people off if he’s overwhelmed. “It didn’t come out how.. or when I wanted it to but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

When Jisung does not say anything, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I guess this means you don’t need me anymore, right?” He chuckles drily but it’s so pitiful it can’t even be counted as a laugh.

Instead of maybe making a face of disgust now, Jisung says, “You know I’m not actually a virgin, right?” It’s blurted fast and quick, like it was on the very tip of his tongue, and he blinks very fast after he says it, blushing slightly.

“Okay, Jisung. You don’t have to lie now.” Minho says, because clearly Jisung's saying things just to say things, and that’s actually insulting and frankly explains nothing.

“What? You seriously think that I’m a virgin?” Jisung is the one to look insulted now, and cocks a concerned eyebrow in Minho’s direction. “I fit that thing down my throat and you think I’m a virgin?” He points at Minho’s dick, and he blushes and looks away.

“I guess? Why? What does that have to do with anything?” Minho splutters. Actually, probably everything. It explains Chan's cryptic-ness, for one. And why everyone seems to be looking at him funny if he mentions Jisung at all because there is no doubt they knew about Minho and Jisung's situationship. Actually, more than apparently what Minho knew himself.

Jisung gulps before saying, “I needed an excuse to sleep with you because the truth is, I’ve been in love with you for years and I thought if you were a really bad lay I’d stop, but you weren’t and honestly, even if you were I still don’t think I would have changed my mind and I don’t know what to do.” he says in one breath, chewing on his bottom lip and he looks exactly like the Jisung Minho fell in love with 6 years ago, and has never once stopped loving.

So, because Minho’s sure everyone in this room’s had enough of talking, he captures Jisung’s lips in a kiss, long and deep, one where Jisung, instead of pulling back with nerves, sighs into it instead and kisses back with a fervent passion.

When Minho pulls back to press his forehead against Jisung’s, he whispers, “I love you,” against his lips. It’s soft, and telling of all the unspoken feelings Minho’s ever felt for Jisung since he first laid eyes on him. “I love you too,” is the response, equally as tender and filled with just as much emotion as there is laden in Jisung’s eyes.

But, because Minho’s got a knack for comedic timing, he adds, “I’m a virgin, just so you know. Or, I guess I was.” and is left gob-smacked when Jisung doesn't even blink.