Archive of Our Own

[08/30 18:55] HAN: hello my beautiful members

i come thereby with a proposal

[08/30 18:55] Kim Seungmo: wrong chat

[08/30 18:55] CB97: Has Minho finally agreed to get married?

[08/30 18:56] Yongbok: ooohh are we all going to be witnesses??!?

[08/30 18:56] HAN: i hate u guys so much it's actually insane

NO MARRIAGE HAPPENING

but i propose. a challenge.

losers treat the winner(s) to dinner at the winner's preference

[08/30 18:57] Seo Changbin: i'm listening

[08/30 18:58] CB97: I like dinner!

[08/30 18:59] HAN: have u guys ever heard of no fap september?

"Who do you think is going to win?"

"Huh? Me, obviously!"

Minho smirks from where he's sitting at the counter. Jisung stares back at him, quirking an eyebrow, almost offended. "You seem very confident."

"I am!" Jisung smiles, flicking the sauce packet twice before tearing it open and dumping it into their bowls. "Do you wanna know who I think will be the first to lose?"

"Who?"

"You."

Minho squints, tilting his head. Jisung smiles like a little deviant, grabbing their bowls and bringing them to the counter, dragging one closer to Minho and acting as if he didn't just insult Minho's pride.

"Why me?" Minho bites, using his chopsticks to mix his ramen. Jisung slurps obnoxiously.

"'Cause you're a pervert," Jisung says, giggling, tipping his chin up as if he has any authority on the subject — whatever little morale he has is quickly diminished by the stain of sauce stuck to the corner of his lips. "I bet you won't last a week."

"Is that so?" Minho's lips twitch into a smile. Jisung nods, eyes shining with mischief. "Guess we'll see at the end of the month. Now shush. Your face is all dirty."

"No—no, it isn't!" Jisung complains, but grabs a napkin nevertheless and wipes his face clean.

Day 1: Jisung is fine.

He jerked off the day before, of course, in preparation; and he might have done it more than once, you know, just to make sure he's well acquainted. But he's fine! He doesn't miss it, barely even remembers masturbation is a thing that people do — forgets he used to do it every day at some point in his life.

His members are also doing okay. No one has said anything yet, so Jisung figures it's too soon to be a problem. Hyunjin and Jeongin are the only ones who didn't agree to the challenge, so the first day is mostly spent poking fun at them and calling them perverts, telling them that they're oh-so-nasty to have refused, even though both of them had reasonable explanations — Hyunjin said he needed to let out stress or else he wouldn't be able to dance and sing, and Jeongin said that the challenge was stupid.

It's a good thing that they're sort of on a break now; Stray Kids is never really on a break, especially not 3RACHA, but they don't have any promotions or variety shows to attend, neither are filming anything for their YouTube channel, so they have a bit more of time to breathe. Jisung has taken on the task to fully write and produce at least one song all by himself for the upcoming album, with September 13th being his deadline — a tight schedule, but Jisung is eager to challenge himself. The others are focused on improving their skills, wanting to deliver the best possible version of themselves for the comeback.

Which is the perfect time to put all members in imaginary chastity cages and forbid everyone from masturbating for a month.

Realistically, there are plenty of reasons to participate in the worldwide famous challenge No Fap September; for starters, it's a good proof of self-restraint. Some people use it to overcome addiction. When you're not touching yourself, you become more aware of how your body responds to external stimuli. And, allegedly, the orgasm post-no-fap-september is earth shatteringly good — there is a reason why gooning is so popular.

So Jisung is excited. He can easily win this, that's why he brought it up in the first place. And the promise of an all-paid dinner at the end is very alluring; he can almost taste the fancy sushi in his mouth already, ah, just thinking about it makes his mouth water…

"What are you thinking about?" Minho pokes his cheek, waking Jisung from his sushi-filled fantasies.

"The dinner I'll get when I win No Fap," Jisung gives Minho a wide smile. Minho hums. "Are you going mad already?"

"Huh? I'm fine," Minho replies, kicking Jisung's legs so he can also sit on the sofa. Jisung kicks him back, but relents, giving Minho space to sit before resting his feet on Minho's lap.

"Mhm. I'm watching you." Jisung points back and forth from his eyes to Minho. Minho rolls his eyes.

"What are you getting for dinner? When you win?"

"Sushi." he shrugs, as if it's obvious. Minho hums.

"Nice. Then I guess I won't need to win either way, I'll just have dinner with you."

Jisung laughs. "See? You're already acting as if you lost! Ah, Minho-hyung, you're such a pervert."

Minho laughs as well. Jisung grabs the remote, scrolls through the catalog of animes, and the topic easily drops into nothing.

Day 4 is when things start getting real.

Jisung wakes up with morning wood. Which, yeah, annoying, especially when he goes to piss, but manageable. He thinks about home, about his grandma, about how the street behind his parent's old house used to smell like wet trash at night, and the offending erection quickly flops. He eats breakfast, works out, goes to the studio, meets up with Chan, works on the beats for his solo-produced track, has lunch with Jeongin and Minho, and follows the latter home for an early night.

While Jisung is happily singing in the shower, scrubbing his body diligently to get rid of the day's sweat and bad energies, his dick decides it wants to get hard again. Jisung feels like he has a right to be outraged; he had read a few comments online that it's expected for your body to betray you, especially if masturbation is a habit, but Jisung didn't think it'd happen so early. It's day four.

He ignores it, rushing to finish washing his body so he can get out of the shower. Jisung makes an effort to not register the weight of his palms against his body, the heat pouring from his skin, the streams of water trickling down his curves, the acoustic of the tiles that reverberate his voice… Jisung turns off the shower and dashes to his room to get dressed, leaving a trail of incriminating droplets on the corridor.

"Han Jisung!" Minho yells from outside Jisung's room. "Did you forget your towel again? Why is the entire house wet, you little shit?!"

Jisung would normally laugh, but—there's a crisis happening right now. Jisung is half-hard, wet, hot and panicking, and—and, fuck—hearing Minho's voice definitely did not make his dick twitch just now.

"Sorry, hyung!" He chokes back, grabbing a change of clothes and rapidly dressing himself. He stares at his full body mirror. Yeah, okay; he's safe. Everything is under control.

Then Jisung opens the door, and Minho is right there, leaning on the wall, holding a towel, one eyebrow raised, wearing a white tank top and loose gray sweatpants.

Jisung is not safe.

"Will I have to sew a towel to your hand, so you never forget it again?" Minho says, fake-angry.

Jisung's eyes are wide and unblinking; he's staring, because, even though they live together and Jisung is very comfortable with walking around in his underwear, Minho tends to be a bit more conservative, sporting shirts and sweatpants, at max a pair of shorts if the weather is too hot. But now Minho's arms are on full display, and his tank top doesn't make a good job of hiding his chest either, nipples budding against the fabric — as if mocking Jisung for being horny.

Minho crosses his arms over his chest, which pulls Jisung back to reality. He looks up at Minho's face, only to see him smirking like a Cheshire cat, eyes trained on Jisung's every reaction.

"Han Jisung," he starts, slow, dangerous, teasing, god— "Are you hard?"

Jisung's face goes pale. He looks down before he can contain himself, and—

"No," he denies. Minho chuckles, eyes darting down to Jisung's crotch and back up to Jisung's face. "No, it's—it's just my pants. God, you're such a pervert, hyung, what—"

"Ah, yeah, I'm the pervert. Sure." Minho's smile is infuriating. Jisung wishes the floor would open and swallow Minho whole and spit him in Antarctica, so he can never get on Jisung's nerves again. "Is someone going to lose?" He taunts.

"No fucking chance," Jisung says, frowning, then sighs, "don't you have anything else to do? Ugh, so annoying."

Jisung runs down the corridor, ignoring Minho's loud laugh behind him.

Jisung stares at the blank doc. The cursor blinks, borderline mockingly, a tiny hint of movement against the white canvas he should be filling.

His mind is empty; what should he sing about? Jisung feels he has said everything he wanted to… but, at the same time, there's still so much to bring up that he doesn't know where to start.

Jisung sighs, resting his chin on his hand. It's also not like he can just write whatever; first because he's part of Stray Kids, he has a reputation to uphold, second because he accidentally has set the precedent that he's the one who always writes deep, meaningful, emotional lyrics. The bar is too high. Jisung can't disappoint his fans like that.

He types a few things, but hits backspace just as often, going back and forth from a few sentences to a blank page. The words vanish from his mind. God, has writing ever been this hard?

Jisung grabs his laptop and scurries to Minho's room. He knocks twice, then cracks it open and peeks inside. "Are you busy?"

Minho has earbuds in and is reading on his bed. He removes the left piece and says, "not really. Do you need anything?"

"Can I work here?" Jisung does his best puppy eyes. "You don't even need to talk to me, just…"

Minho hums and nods, gesturing for Jisung to come inside. Jisung smiles and obliges.

He sits down at Minho's desk and brainstorms a few ideas. It's nothing palpable yet, but… better than an empty doc and its disgustingly sarcastic cursor.

[09/07 10:18] Seo Changbin: if i may be vulnerable for a moment

idk if i can do this anymore.

[09/07 10:18] Ayen: hyung? what happened?

are you okay?

where are you?

[09/07 10:20] Seo Changbin: it's fine yeni-ah

hyung's just being dramatic

I NEED TO FLICK MY BINNIE!!!!!!!!!!

[09/07 10:22] Ayen: …

why do I even bother.

[09/07 10:23] CB97: LMAO

Changbin, don't scare us like that. I thought it was something serious!

[09/07 10:24] Seo Changbin: it is serious. i think my crotch is going to explode.

[09/07 10:24] Hwang Hyunjin: hyung's going to the gym like 3 times a day now lol

[09/07 10:25] Seo Changbin: i've been running like crazy too

i'm gonna be mr korea by the end of the month

[09/07 10:27] Kim Seungmo: because i'm a miss korea~~

Jisung snorts. "Did you see Changbin-hyung's meltdown on the group chat?"

Minho looks up from his book. "I didn't check my phone today yet. What did he say?"

"He said he needs to flick his binnie."

Minho's face is torn between grimacing and laughing; he frowns, but can't help the smile that spreads his lips, and shakes his head in both disgust and amusement.

Day 7 is back to fine. Ever since Jisung's definitely-average problem followed by his definitely-not-awkward encounter with Minho in the corridor, things have been quite busy. 3RACHA is back to daily meetings, making use of the short period of rest to, ironically, work. It's different, though; making music with Chan and Changbin has always been a breeze, something that Jisung can rely on to take his mind off of unimportant things, even though Jisung's still stuck on writing the lyrics for that god forsaken track and the thought hammers his brain from time to time. Plus, they're working on some absolute bangers, which is a morale — and ego — boost.

Jisung throws himself on the couch, mostly to annoy Minho. He succeeds, hearing Minho groaning obnoxiously and scooting to give him space, and Jisung grins, relaxing on the cushions. "And how are you doing so far?"

"Hm?" Minho is back to his book. Jisung spies the cover; a plain black and white color scheme, with the original title in english and a korean translation underneath, an emblem adorning the center. Jisung manages to read the title: Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Minho's hands wrap around the book. It's short; he'll probably finish it today.

"Have you lost already?" Jisung leans his head on Minho's shoulder. He tries to peek at the pages, but finds he's uninterested, instead guiding his gaze upwards to catch Minho's expression. "You know you have to tell everyone in the group when you lose. And do the speech of shame."

"Ah, yes," Minho chuckles, never taking his eyes off of the book. "For a supposed pervert, I'm doing alright. It's not like I—"

He pauses, catching himself. Jisung blinks up at him. "Not like you what?"

A faint dust of red tinges the tips of Minho's ears. He clears his throat, now forcing his eyes to follow the words in the book. "Nevermind. You don't need to know that."

"Aw, c'mon! You know I'm curious!" Jisung protests, sitting up. He tries to pry the book away from Minho's hands, but Minho, predicting his movements, swats it from Jisung's grasp. "Tell me! It's not like I don't know too much about you already."

Minho sighs. He buries his face back on the book and mutters, "not like I did it every single day, so it hasn't been that big of a change."

For some odd, unknown, phantasmagoric reason, Jisung shudders. He stares into the side of Minho's face as if it could melt, unsure of what to do with that information. Well, Minho did warn him that it was TMI, and they were talking specifically about that, but, still—

Then, a little tug right below the waistband of Jisung's boxers. A tiny skip on his heartbeats. A speckle of warmth that blooms from his chest and irradiates up to his neck and ears.

Minho didn't jerk off every day, so the challenge hasn't really affected him that much. Not like he touched himself at every single opportunity he had — unlike a certain someone. Minho didn't masturbate as frequently. Minho—masturbating—fuck—

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Minho asks, still a bit flushed. Jisung shrugs.

"Just—weird. To, y'know. Have you say that. 'Cause now I know that you, uh—"

Minho rolls his eyes and grunts. "I told you you didn't need to know that."

Yeah, fair. Jisung didn't need to know that. It was probably better if he didn't know that. Because now that he knows that, his mind keeps making up images that Jisung would rather not see.

Minho, forehead glued to the tile, one hand braced on the side of his head and the other working his cock under their shared shower. Minho, laid on his back, earbuds in, some sort of pornographic material displayed on his phone — probably a webtoon, the nerd —, one hand scrolling down the pages and the other shoved down his boxers. Minho, locked in a bathroom at some filming location, biting his lips and rolling back his eyes, thrusting up into the curl of his fist until he spills all over his palm. Minho, spread on their couch while Jisung is out, touching his chest, playing with his nipples, muffling a moan on the cushions as he teases the tip of his cock, thumb and forefinger sticky with precum.

Jisung is pretty sure he can hear his own cock stirring in his pants.

"Stop staring at me like that, you're freaking me out."

Jisung gets up and runs to his room. He closes the door a little too late to muffle Minho's "Jisung?!"

Day 7 is most definitely not fine.

Part of the morning routine in the MinSung household involves Jisung going to Minho's room to wish him good morning. Every day, after washing his face and stretching every fiber of his body, Jisung, unbothered by the modern concept of decency, storms to Minho's room in just his boxers, pushes the door open and greets, "good morning, Minho-yah!" in a singsong tone.

More often than not, Minho is already awake, either scrolling through his phone or doing neck stretches. On day 8, Minho is frowning at the SKZ group chat, focused expression melting when Jisung's voice comes from the door.

"Good morning, Jisungie," he greets. "Did you check our group chat today?"

"Not yet," Jisung widens his eyes. He enters the room and sits next to Minho. "Why, did someone lose already?"

Minho shows him the messages.

[09/08 7:42] Seungmin: extremely-suspicious-link.com

[09/08 8:01] Chan: SEUNGMIN????

[09/08 8:08] Hyunjin: bro is sending porn at 7 am

[09/08 8:12] Felix: i thought porn was illegal in korea??

[09/08 8:12] Chan: It is.

[09/08 8:13] Felix: oh.

Jisung snorts. He considers clicking on the link, just to annoy Minho, but scrolls down to see the other messages:

[09/08 8:15] Seungmin: chan is telling me to apologize 🙄

so i'm sorry I GUESS

[09/08 8:15] Chan: Kim Seungmin.

[09/08 8:16] Seungmin: it was just a joke!!!! no one has lost yet and i'm getting boredddd

[09/08 8:18] Leeknow: It has been, like, only a week

[09/08 8:24] Changbin: SOME OF US HAVE NEEDS, OKAY.

[09/08 8:25] Hyunjin: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

"Changbin-hyung is really going through it, huh," Jisung comments, passing the phone back to Minho, who chuckles as he nods.

"I thought he'd have lost by now, to be honest, so I guess he's doing better than I imagined." Minho puts his phone on the bedside table and yawns. "No one wants to do the speech of shame."

"I made sure to make the rules incredibly embarrassing and demeaning," Jisung smirks, proud of himself. Minho shakes his head.

"You're the worst."

Jisung laughs. Minho looks at him for a second, two, eyes longing on Jisung's face, then dragging down his exposed body. Jisung blinks, quirking his eyebrows.

"You know I don't like bad boys," Minho mutters, leaning closer. Jisung widens his eyes.

"Huh?"

"Bad boys deserve—" Minho crawls on top of Jisung, easily manhandling him so Jisung is laying on his stomach. Jisung tries to fight back, but— "to be punished!"

Minho lands a slap right on Jisung's ass.

And Jisung fucking moans.

The silence that overtakes the room is deadly. Jisung buries his face on the mattress, praying for whatever god is out there to just take him, bring a glowing hand down from heaven to grab Jisung and drag him upwards until he disappears amidst the clouds. His ears, cheeks and neck are burning, his fingers are clenched on the sheets, and his lower stomach pulls obnoxiously.

"Did you—" Minho creaks, "did you just—"

Jisung whines, mortified, and kicks his legs, trying to hit Minho. "Look, I'm sensitive, okay?! It's been eight fucking—"

Minho slaps him again, now on his other cheek, and Jisung groans, biting on his lower lip, his whole body shivering and locking in place. Minho clicks his tongue; Jisung can only imagine what kind of facial expression he's sporting now: probably smug, perhaps a little disgusted, mostly amused at Jisung's suffering. Mr. I like seeing him flustered and all.

"Han Jisung," Minho calls, voice lower, calculated. Jisung can feel Minho's stare on the back of his head. "Are you hard?"

Jisung sighs. "No," he says, even though the pressure of the bed against his cock has been growing increasingly hard —ha!—to ignore.

"Don't lie to hyung."

Fuck, Jisung has to bite his lip again to hold back a moan. Fuck, he loves it when Minho calls himself hyung. Unjustifiably sexy and so, so vicious.

"I'm—I mean, it's not like I can see it," Jisung argues, trying to lift his upper body to look back at Minho.

Their eyes lock. Minho's expression is… different from what Jisung imagined. There's clear amusement, of course there is, a hint of intrigue, and no signs of disgust. Instead, there's a glint in Minho's eyes, something that Jisung can't quite pinpoint what it is or how to describe it; it's like when Minho looks at a menu in a restaurant and catches something that piques his interest, like when Minho is reading a thriller and the suspect finally leaves an incriminating hint behind, like when Minho is eating a new dish and the pepper hits his palate just right, burning up slowly down his insides.

"Turn around, then," Minho says. There's plenty of space for Jisung to move; he could easily roll out of bed and run back to his room. "Let's see."

Jisung holds Minho's eyes, almost daring, and keeps looking at him when he obliges and turns on his back. Minho tries to win their stare-off, but curiosity gets the best of him and he finally trails his eyes down Jisung's body.

Yeah. Yeah, he's hard.

The thing is, when Jisung inevitably looks down to check himself, he catches something else.

Minho. Is also. Very. Fucking. Hard.

Jisung wants to scream. He wants to poke fun at Minho, to call him a pervert, to yell at him for making up this whole scene when he himself is not one to talk, but it's suddenly incredibly difficult to articulate words. Suddenly Jisung doesn't have a voice anymore.

Minho, kneeling on the edge of his bed, staring at Jisung's erection, with his face flushed pink, hair disheveled, and a bulge sitting in between his legs.

God, bring that glowing hand now.

"You should do something about that," Minho comments. His voice is raspy. Jisung looks up at him. "You probably want to, right? Go on."

"W-wait," Jisung clears his throat, "wait, no! I can't!"

Minho smirks. "Of course you can. C'mon, I promise I won't tell anyone."

Jisung widens his eyes, his jaw going lax in shock. "No! I'm not gonna betray my members like that!"

Minho laughs. "Is someone scared of the speech of shame?"

"Look who's talking!" Jisung finally says, sitting up. He points at Minho's crotch. "Why don't you do something about that?"

Minho looks down at where Jisung is pointing. His blush deepens, seemingly only now realizing he was mocking Jisung while having a tent in his pants as well. Minho averts his gaze, pulling on the hem of his shirt to try and cover his front, and Jisung can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, cover yourself, you pervert!" He barks; doesn't miss the irony of being a half-naked guy saying that to a fully-clothed guy — unlike Minho, who apparently just lost the plot.

"What kind of guy moans when he gets slapped in the butt?" Minho objects. "You're the pervert!"

"What kind of guy gets hard when he slaps someone else's butt?!"

Minho groans, covering his face. "It's—it wasn't because—"

Jisung sweats. God, this whole thing feels hysterical. This is not part of the MinSung household morning protocol.

"It's because, fuck—" Minho's voice is quieter, muffled behind his palms, "why did you moan like that? You—you know I like men, you little shit, I swear you do it on purpose sometimes—"

A cold shiver drags on Jisung's spine. His pores dilate. He lets out a shaky exhale, fingers twitching on his sides. "Hyung, are you—are you saying that—that you got hard," Jisung gulps, "because of me?"

Minho folds in on himself, groaning again, frustrated and on edge. Jisung doesn't know what to say or do. How are you supposed to act when your best friend and roommate just admitted to getting horny because of you?

Not that Jisung minds, obviously; Minho has starred too many of his wet dreams for it to be an issue. But Jisung has never outright said it, nevermind to Minho himself. It all feels—

Minho looks at him, looks into his eyes. They're dark, precise, with that particular glint that Jisung can't describe. Jisung breathes out. His naked torso goes up and down. Minho watches, also breathing heavily.

They could. Jisung has known Minho long enough to know that they're both thinking of the same thing. They could; it's not against the rules to reach climax if the stimulation comes from someone else. Both of them are obviously wound-up, it's been a long week, and it'd help with the nerves. It's clear as day that they want it.

They could.

Jisung wants to crack a joke. It'd be so easy to; he'd say something stupid, Minho would laugh, they'd be a little awkward for the rest of the day and then tomorrow everything would go back to normal. But he doesn't want to be the one to end this, whatever it is; doesn't want to be the one calling the shots on what happens next, doesn't want the responsibility of carrying the weight of their actions if things go south.

"Jisung," Minho mutters, testing the waters. Jisung's throat bobs.

"Hm?"

"…Have you eaten?"

Jisung breathes. "Not yet."

Minho slides off the bed. "C'mon. Hyung will make you some coffee."

On the way out, Jisung sees Minho adjusting the fabric of his pants in between his legs.

Day 8: whatever happened in Minho's room can NOT happen again. Ever.

(Or, at least, not until September ends.)

([09/08 21:54] Seo Changbin: i want everyone to know i'm being so brave today.

[09/08 21:55] Hwang Hyunjin: he really is~~

Jisung frowns. He wonders what those two have been up to.)

[09/09 01:32] CB97: Uh

Well this is awkward

Hello! Hope everyone is having a good night of sleep :)

I uh

I lost lol

[09/09 01:33] Ayen: …it's so weird to read that knowing we said good night like half an hour ago

[09/09 01:33] CB97: Yeni, close your eyes, please

Dear fellow superior members of my beloved group,
I've succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh, like the ugly, disgusting pervert that I am, and I don't regret anything. It has been fun, but unfortunately today has been a very long day and I don't really care that much about this challenge since I always pay for our dinners anyway.

Was that all the rules?

Ah, the hall of shame. One sec

SKZ HALL OF SHAME.docx

Done 👍 gnight yall

[09/09 05:37] Seo Changbin: I WASN'T FIRST!!!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[09/09 05:37] Hwang Hyunjin: you can finally set yourself free, hyung

[09/09 05:38] Seo Changbin: SHUT UP INCUBUS ✋✋

Jisung is already laughing as he pushes the door to the studio open. He has a shit-eating grin, laser focused on Chan, who's blissfully unaware of the evil presence that rapidly approaches his behind. Ah, feels good to have a new reason to poke fun at the leader! Jisung is so excited to tease Chan he momentarily forgets the chaos going on inside his own mind.

"Good morning, disgusting pervert!" Jisung greets, slapping Chan's shoulder twice. Chan sighs, shaking his head, but he has a tiny smile twitching his lips.

"Is that any way to talk to your hyung?" Chan says, but he's not mad. There are various papers and pens scattered all over the table, most of them with notations, circles, scribbled chords and suggestions of new words and/or how to sing them. Jisung snorts.

"Do I wanna ask what made you lose?"

The blush that blooms over Chan's entire face says it all. He answers, nevertheless, "absolutely not. Unless you wanna learn a thing or two about me that you really don't need to."

"Yeah, thank you, but no, thank you." Flashes of Minho's admission flutter to the front of Jisung's mind. He shakes his head; enough TMI about the members.

"How are you doing so far?"

"Uh, it's okay," Jisung mutters, sitting next to Chan and opening his laptop. "I guess it's more annoying than, like, difficult? If that makes sense?"

Chan hums. "It's weird to suddenly kill a habit. But it's fun to challenge yourself. I was reading more about it and you actually went quite soft with the rules, huh?"

Jisung nods. He figured it wouldn't be as interesting if they also restrained porn, although consumption of it was heavily discouraged; as for gaining pleasure through a partner, well… they're all a bunch of nerds, plus the superstardom status kind of harms any chance at partaking in hookup culture, so…

"I guess not jerking off is already bad enough for some people."

As if on cue, Changbin opens the door and strolls inside. He's wearing gym clothes, as usual, and his hair is stuck to the sweat dripping from his forehead. He takes off his mask and cap and nods in Chan and Jisung's general direction as a greeting.

"Did you come straight from your workout?" Chan asks, eyeing Changbin as he rolls a chair back and sits, slumping like jelly.

"I came here running," he mutters, out of breath. Jisung and Chan widen their eyes.

"From the dorm?" Jisung asks. "Hyung, what—why?"

"A man must resist the — how was it? — the pleasures of the flesh," Changbin says. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, messing with his fringe, and takes a deep breath. "Congrats on losing, disgusting pervert."

Chan giggles. "Thanks."

"I didn't think it'd make you so… miserable, hyung," Jisung lowers his voice, furrowing his eyebrows with a tinge of guilt. Changbin laughs and shakes his head.

"Hyung's just being dramatic," he repeats, "I think it's good for me. I'm so focused on my body twenty-four-seven that I guess this is a good chance to find other ways to take care of it. The thing is that Hyunjin—"

Changbin catches himself, but the bait has been planted and it's too late to backtrack now. Chan and Jisung lean closer, eager and interested, work be damned. "Hyunjin…?" Chan prompts.

"Hyunjin's being a menace." Changbin rolls his eyes, moving his chair closer to the table. He fumbles with the papers for a moment. "He's not even in the challenge and still keeps trying to make me lose."

"What is he doing?" Chan asks. "Should I… talk to him?"

"No, no! It's nothing serious. Chan," Changbin smiles, "it's a challenge to not crank your hog for a month. C'mon. No need to go leader mode because of this."

Jisung laughs, throwing his head back. Chan shrugs, letting the topic drown out, and begins their daily meeting.

They go over the songs they're currently producing, deciding which ones have "title track potential" and organizing everything into folders. Chan makes some notes on the concepts he imagines, and Jisung helps him with creating vision boards with references; Changbin refines their lyrics and makes some notes on how each phrase should be enunciated when they eventually record. Before lunch break, Chan asks Changbin to text Hyunjin and ask him if he needs any adjustments to his vocal parts on any of their new songs.

"He says it won't be necessary," Changbin says as soon as Hyunjin answers. "Says he's been doing his treatment and that he's—" Changbin suddenly blushes. He clears his throat, "that he's being a good boy and taking care of himself."

Jisung and Chan exchange knowing glances. "That's good. Tell him to keep being a good boy for hyung."

"Uh, 'kay," Changbin mutters, and reads out loud as he types, "Chan said to—"

"No, no," Jisung interrupts. "Just say keep being a good boy for hyung. Don't say it was Chan who said it."

Chan snorts, holding back his laughter. Changbin gulps, but obliges, deleting and rewriting his message. "You're something else," Chan whispers to Jisung, who winks at him.

"Minho-hyung says I'm a little shit."

It's late; Jisung toes off his shoes at the entrance and clicks the door close as quietly as he can manage, cursing under his breath at the beeps of the electronic lock. He spies the living room and the kitchen, not finding Minho, and strolls to the bathroom to take a shower.

So. We have our first loser.

Jisung doesn't indulge the weirdness of thinking about Chan jerking off while Jisung himself is naked and in the shower; it's a borderline scientific approach, really. He's thinking about it to evaluate his own performance so far.

Chan said he didn't mind, and, judging by how he acted, it was the truth. To him, No Fap September was simply a challenge that he didn't have to endure after it stopped being fun. And good for him, honestly, to know himself like that.

Jisung scrubs his arms. What reasons are there for him to keep pushing?

Sushi, mostly. God, he can't wait for the soft fish to melt on his tongue — it tastes so much better when he's not the one paying for it. If any other members end up winning, they'll probably need more than one dinner to accommodate everyone's choices. How divine is it, really, to have more than one free dinner simply for not jerking off for a month? It's almost as good as an actual orgasm.

Jisung lathers his chest with soap. He gets goosebumps as his thumb rubs against a perky nipple.

Exerting such level of self-control is truly admirable. Jisung will ride the high for months after September is gone, knowing that he had plenty of chances and chose not to take any of them. It's perfect; a stroke to his ego that's almost as good as a stroke to his dick.

Jisung massages his sore calves.

He feels more attuned to his body already. The brush of wind against his nape, the tips of his fingers against pens and keys, the saliva crackling inside his mouth as he speaks, the heel of his feet digging into the floor, the arch of his lower back when he lays down…

Jisung looks at himself.

Fuck, he's hard.

He looks around, as if he was almost caught stealing; he considers cheating. He's alone, Minho's asleep, and the shower will quickly wash away any evidence. A perfect crime with no repercussions.

Except he can't. Not because he's a fair player or anything like that, but because if he allows himself grace once, he'll allow himself grace forever. And that's not the point of the challenge; even if there's no one to see and no one would ever find out, Jisung will know, and he'd like to try a bit harder before giving up. Yeah, he's confident. He doesn't need it.

Jisung steps out of the shower, towels off and, knowing Minho is already asleep, puts on just a pair of boxers before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. He doesn't acknowledge how obvious his erection is; it's not like anyone will—

"Ah," Minho mutters, turning around, "you're home."

Jisung freezes.

Minho stares at him quizzically, eyes casting downwards, probably to poke fun at Jisung's bright neon green boxers, but…

"Han Jisung," he starts, a smile tearing his entire face.

"Don't—!" Jisung protests, "don't fucking ask me if I'm hard."

Minho laughs, shoulders shaking, and Jisung considers committing a crime for real. "Are you going to do something about that?"

"Of course not." Jisung rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding Minho's eyes. So distracted with his own misery that he almost, almost loses the way Minho's gaze lingers on his erection, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Jisung shivers. He ends whatever is happening and goes after his glass of water, and Minho walks back to his room.

What the fuck, honestly. Jisung is going mad before September ends.

"If you want," Minho's voice comes from the door hanging ajar. It dominates the corridor, travels across the silence and hits Jisung's chest with full intensity, "hyung can give you a hand."

He chuckles and closes the door.

What the fuck.

Jisung looks behind him to check the microwave clock. 00:58. It's day ten.

Jisung hurries back to his own room, covers himself up to the top of his head, clamps his eyes and aggressively tries to sleep. He's confident. He doesn't need it.

Maknae line goes out for dinner on day 11.

Jisung is the last to get there; he lost track of time while sketching — and scrapping — lyrics for his solo-produced track, but fortunately Changbin offered him a ride to the restaurant so Jisung could go straight after work. He's greeted with claps and cheers and the occasional tease at his lateness.

"Sorry, sorry," Jisung says as he sits down next to Yongbok, "this superstar thing makes me hella busy." He shrugs, smiling like a smug bastard, and the others laugh at him.

"How's production going? Any spoilers?" Yongbok asks. Jisung grabs his chopsticks and stuffs his face with fried pork, smearing hot sauce over his cheeks, and hums.

"It's gonna be awesome," he covers his mouth while chewing. "We have so many bangers, I can't wait for you guys to hear everything. By the way," Jisung swallows down and looks at Jeongin, changing topics before he admits defeat and talks about the lyrics he can't get out, "Chan-hyung asked if you're free to record some guides tomorrow."

"Hm, sure!" Jeongin nods, fiddling with his ear. Seungmin hits him with his elbow and they exchange a look. Jisung quirks an eyebrow.

"What's with the telepathic conversation?"

"Nothing," Jeongin disperses, shoving rice inside of his mouth. Seungmin giggles.

"Jeongin-ah is going through a crisis," Seungmin singsongs, cheeks a little pink due to a probable beer consumption. Jeongin glares at him.

"Crisis?" Yongbok leans over the table, reaching for Jeongin's hand. "Ayen, what happened? Can hyung help?"

"Well, a certain hyung can, but—ouch!"

"Seungmin-hyung! Shush!" Jeongin grits, pressing his finger to his lips. Seungmin pouts, rubbing the spot where Jeongin just hit him.

"Ay, ay, what's going on?" Jisung thickens his voice, trying to exert his authority as the older one in the group — nevermind that it's only by a day.

Jeongin grunts, hiding his face in his hands. "Don't worry about it. It's… stupid. And embarrassing."

"Jeongin saw Chan jerking off—ouch!"

Jisung and Yongbok drop their utensils, both with their eyes doubling in size. Jeongin rests his forehead on the table. "I'm never telling you anything ever again."

"Sorry," Seungmin smirks, clearly not sorry, still rubbing at his arm, "but maybe the hyungs can help. You can't just ignore him forever, Innie."

Jeongin sighs. "…I know."

"Well… I can only imagine how embarrassed you are, but… that happens, baby. It's part of living with someone else," Yongbok softens his tone, caressing Jeongin's hair.

"That never happened with us—"

Yongbok glares at Seungmin, effectively shutting him up.

"Was it, like… weird? I mean, did Chan, uh… do… something? To—to you?" Jisung tries. The possibility is absurd; Chan would rather kill himself than do anything to purposefully harm any of them or step over their boundaries, but…

Jeongin sits up, face going pale with horror. "Oh, my god, no! He hasn't stopped apologizing, I think he's more embarrassed than me!"

Jisung and Yongbok relax. Okay, the universe is still aligned.

"Just making sure," Jisung says, not hiding his relief, "I guess that explains why he was acting so… weird today."

"Was he?" Jeongin's face melts into guilt and worry. Jisung gives him an apologetic smile.

"He looked like he shot someone," Jisung says, and Seungmin and Yongbok chuckle. "I guess you're right, he is more embarrassed than you."

"Just say you're sorry and move on," Seungmin rolls his eyes, as if he had heard enough about the topic. He drops more pork into his bowl, then does the same to Jeongin's bowl. "It's not like you knew he was jerking off and spied on him like a creep."

"Ugh, of course not!" Jeongin's ears flush red. Jisung laughs.

"Ooh, is our baby a little voyeur pervert?" he teases. Yongbok giggles, hiding his face, and Jeongin groans.

"Stoooop!"

They quickly fizzle into other topics, drinking, eating, laughing a bit too loud and overall having a good time. When they say their goodbyes, each entering a cab, Jisung has his face reddened and his inhibitions lowered; the entire ride back to his dorm is spent mentally recounting their conversations and giggling to himself.

Jisung catches Minho reading on the sofa and flops next to him, complaining that he's tired. Minho lets out a breathy laugh, running his hand on Jisung's hair, making him melt on the spot.

"Hyung," he slurs, half-drunk and so, so sleepy, "d'you wanna hear sum' tea?"

"What is it?"

"Jeongin-ah," Jisung giggles, "caught Chan-hyung cranking the horn."

Minho's face morphs into a thousand expressions on the spam of five seconds: shock, turned to confusion, turned to disgust, turned to amusement, turned to disgust again, then turned to devilishly handsome—

Hammers pound behind Jisung's eyelids.

"First of all, never say cranking the horn again. You do know it's cranking the hog, right?"

Jisung laughs with his full chest, but doesn't advocate for his horn cranking.

"Second of all, why the hell were you talking about that? Isn't that type of thing supposed to be, like, private?"

"Seungmin spilled," Jisung interrupts himself with a prolonged yawn, "and Jeongin was a bit unsure of how to act."

"Poor baby," Minho mutters, caressing Jisung's hair.

"Mhm. So, as the very mature, responsible hyungs, we helped 'im."

"I'm sure you did," Minho chuckles lowly. "Go to bed."

"Hmmm," Jisung complains, throwing a little tantrum, "don't wanna."

"Why not? I'm not dragging you—"

"Wanna sleep with you."

Minho blinks. Jisung smiles up at him, body spread all over the couch and Minho's lap, like a dog begging for attention. "Uh. Okay? I guess I can… read… in your room, yeah."

Jisung slumps over Minho's back, giggling all the way down the corridor and into Jisung's bedroom. He throws himself on the mattress, sighs, and makes grabby hands in Minho's direction, pouting until Minho is laying down next to him.

"Jisung, I wanna read a bit more—"

Jisung buries his face on Minho's chest. Minho sighs, putting his book on the bedside table and pulling the covers on top of their tangled bodies.

Sleeping all huddled up with Lee Minho is probably one of the most surefire ways to induce a morning boner.

Thankfully, Jisung's head hurts so bad he can't even think properly about the entanglement of their legs or how peaceful Minho looks while he's asleep. Jisung has always been a lightweight, two beers being enough to get him red and giggly, and the hangover was a promise if he drank more than three.

He drank five. So.

Jisung groans, sitting on the bed while holding his head, as if he could magically remove his headache with his hand. He looks around, recognizes he's in his room, yawns, stretches his arms over his head, rubs his eyes, and looks back to poke Minho on the cheek until he's awake.

Except, the blankets have come off at some point during the night; Minho is splayed on the mattress, legs a bit open since Jisung had to detangle himself from them, shirt ridden up to show the smooth lines of his stomach and the waistband of his light blue pajama pants and—

And the very visible bulge in them.

If Jisung wasn't awake before, he definitely is now.

Let's be reasonable here: it's a perfectly healthy, normal occurrence. Minho is a young man who hasn't masturbated in twelve days, so, naturally, his body is more sensitive to touch. Plus, when someone is in dream land, there's no telling what happens with their body responses. This probably has nothing to do with Jisung or the fact that they slept together.

But Minho has also admitted to getting hard because of Jisung before. It still haunts Jisung from time to time; the embarrassment of moaning when your best friend slaps you in the ass, plus the shiver of knowing that your moan made them hard. It stills sounds completely alien to him. But it's—it's not unreasonable to say Jisung is to blame for Minho's morning wood.

And oh, Jisung wants to wake him up and tease him. He wants so bad. He wants to ask if Minho is going to do something about that, oh, he really should, Jisung promises he won't tell anyone. He wants to stare at Minho's cock as if it's the most incredible thing he's ever seen, purely to get Minho flustered. He wants to ask Minho if he heard Jisung moaning in his sleep, 'cause why else would Minho have an erection? He wants to smirk down at Minho and mutter, Lee Minho, are you hard?

Jisung knows better. Minho would find a way to turn it upside down and revert the teases, until Jisung was the one splattered on the bed, flushed, hard, and breathing soundly.

Jisung shakes his head and exits the room in search for some painkillers. He has bigger issues than Lee Minho's hard cock at the moment.

(Not that Jisung was paying attention to the size or anything like that. It's big who said that)

Jisung makes it to the studio just a few minutes behind Changbin, who's turning on his laptop and gathering his notes on the table. They greet each other and start talking about the plans for the day's recording session.

"If everything goes to plan," Changbin says, "we should have all the guides by tomorrow night."

Jisung hums. Nevermind that it's a Saturday; 3RACHA doesn't really do weekends. Chan and Jeongin enter not long after, nodding and smiling as they silently make their ways inside. Jisung eyes both of them, trying to find out if things are still weird between them; judging by the way Chan immediately sits down to start the recording process and Jeongin fidgets awkwardly on the corner, Jisung guesses they haven't talked yet.

Catching your roommate masturbating must be embarrassing, but Jisung doesn't think it's to such an extent. He imagines what would be his reaction if he caught Minho—

Fuck, stop. He doesn't imagine anything. Abort this train of thought immediately.

"Alright, Jeongin-ah, step into the booth, please," Chan says, looking briefly at Jeongin's general direction. Jeongin nods and does as he's told. "Did you have time to listen to the instrumentals?"

"Yes," Jeongin answers, getting ready inside the booth. Jisung rolls his chair closer to Chan so he can also follow the recording channels on his screen.

"Awesome. Let's start with One Step Ahead, okay?"

The recording goes smoothly. Jeongin's voice is as good as ever, silky sweet and a delight to listen, and he adds some helpful thoughts that only a main vocal would consider. Changbin coos exaggeratedly at him, making him squint and blush, but writes everything down and even makes some real-time adjustments as they work through the guides. Some of them were pre-recorded and just needed a few additions, while others were full instrumental, but, as all members grow and improve their techniques, Chan has been bringing them more often to the studio to participate in the production process as well.

He's a good leader, Jisung thinks, in a brief moment of distraction while Jeongin is sipping on water. Chan wants to be a role model, a reliable, responsible, strong person that the others can lean on. And Jisung knows for a fact Chan's all that and more to fellow Jeongin, their youngest who grew up to be one of the most mature among them — Jisung guesses it was Chan's influence.

It's a whole other dynamic than Jisung and Minho. It's unfair to compare the two. No matter what sorts of freaky things Minho does when he's masturbating, Jisung doesn't—

Wait. Wasn't this thought aborted?

"Last one, Innie. Are you tired?" Chan asks, fondly, eyes going back and forth from the PC screen to the singer inside the booth.

"Hm-hm." Jeongin shakes his head. "It's fun."

Chan's eyes disappear into crescent moons when he smiles. "Is it? I'm glad. I'm—we're having fun too."

Jeongin smiles back.

"Aigoo, our baby is having fun with us!" Changbin pouts, shaking his fists in the air with cuteness aggression. Jeongin groans, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes, tired of being treated like that — but with shoulders shaking as he laughs.

After they wrap up with recordings, Chan divides the remaining work to the three of them and tells Jisung and Changbin to go home, so they can relax while they work.

"Is that even possible?" Changbin frowns. Jisung points at him, nodding to show his agreement. "What about you?"

"I'm staying. It'd be a hassle to bring all the equipment home, plus I feel like I work better here," Chan says, saving all the guides with clean, easy to understand titles (and not Jisung's usual bkmdflk.mp3). "You can stay, if you want to. I'm grabbing lunch with Minho later."

"I'm staying." Changbin plugs his earbuds and straightens his posture. "I can't stand to be in the same house as Hwang Hyunjin today."

"Is he is still trying to get you to lose?" Jisung asks, already giggling. Changbin nods, knitting his eyebrows and pouting, as if he's in physical pain.

"You guys don't even wanna know how brave I'm being."

"Well, if you're both staying, then I guess I'm morally obligated to stay, too," Jisung says, then adds in english, "I'll stay."

Chan lets out a chuckle through his nose; Changbin either doesn't hear or pretends like he doesn't hear; Jeongin grimaces as he puts on his mask and cap.

"Jeongin-ah, you can stay too, if you want," Chan belatedly adds, "there's not much else for you to do, but… you're welcome to keep us company. You're always welcome here."

Jeongin nods; even with the mask, Jisung can tell he's holding back a smile. "Thanks, hyung, but I'm heading back. I have vocal lessons with Seungmin-hyung later today."

"Okay. Take care, baby."

"Do you want hyung to give you a ride?" Changbin looks over his shoulder. Jeongin rejects it quietly, bows, and says his goodbyes before exiting.

The three of them fall into silence until the sound of Jeongin's steps disappear completely. Then, "dude, you gotta talk to him."

"Huh?" Chan turns to look at Jisung with his eyes widened. "What—what are you talking about?"

"He told us the other day. You two are ignoring each other 'cause he saw you—"

Chan presses his palm over Jisung's mouth to shut him up. "We are not talking about this. You—why do you even know this? Ugh, just—"

"What's going on?" Changbin stares at them.

"Nothing!" Chan rolls back his chair and buries his face on the screen. "Don't you guys have work to do?"

Jisung snorts, but relents to the leader's wishes and drops the topic. When Changbin whispers to him, "should I ask?", Jisung simply shakes his head no.

Jisung is half-asleep on the couch when Minho finally opens the door and steps inside. Jisung jumps, correcting his posture, and rubs his eyes to try and get rid of the sleepiness.

"Oh?" Minho mutters, entering the living room. "I thought you'd be asleep by now. Didn't you work all day?"

"Mhm," Jisung mumbles, then yawns. "But… you texted me… saying you had tea…"

Minho laughs. "You stayed up just to gossip?"

Jisung hums and nods, completely unashamed. Minho shakes his head.

"Alright, let me just get a cup of water."

Socks against laminated wood floors, a tumble of liquid, a soft hum under Minho's breath. Jisung blinks slowly. The couch dips next to him and Minho sighs as he stretches.

"Okay, so, updates on the leader-maknae situation," Minho starts. He looks at Jisung's face. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, yes," Jisung slurs. "Tell me."

Minho stares at him for a bit. He's amused, front teeth peeking in a tiny smile, eyes glinting with that something Jisung can't describe. He eventually gives in, "so, it's a little TMI. Be warned."

"Hm."

"But they both talked to me separately about this. Turns out, Jeongin is embarrassed because he told Chan he could've helped him win the No Fap challenge. And by help, you know…"

This makes Jisung truly wake up. He jumps, eyes going wide and eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "Shit, for real?"

Minho nods. "We're so caught up on him being the youngest that sometimes we forget he's also, like, the smartest. He had the perfect strategy, but read the rules a bit too late. He said he could've helped Chan relieve stress and they could've won as a duo."

Jisung blinks. It is the perfect strategy, especially since Jeongin isn't even competing. He hasn't considered that before.

"And, uh…" Minho scratches his neck, looking elsewhere, "apparently the thought of getting help from our maknae has… changed Chan's brain chemistry in some way."

"Oh?" Jisung utters. The penny drops. "Oh. Fuck, okay."

"Yeah."

Jisung shakes his head. "Damn. That, uh… explains a lot."

"Mhm," Minho agrees, "he feels guilty. Said he felt like he was using Jeongin, or, like, abusing his goodwill. I guess Chan has a hard time accepting that he's allowed to feel certain things, even though he's the eldest and all."

"Yeah. It must be very stressful for him."

Jisung stares into the black void of their TV screen. He can't even fathom how heavy Chan's burden must be; even though Chan has been slowly opening up and relaxing over the years, there's still a lot of residual guilt and shame to clean. Jisung scribbles a mental note to buy him lunch the next time they see each other.

"But," Minho says, breaking the silence, "I mean, I-I don't blame Chan."

"For what?"

"For… you know. Getting excited."

Jisung smirks. Even in the dim light, he can see Minho's ears are slightly flushed. Jisung feels his own ears and neck going warm. "Honestly? Me neither. Jeongin's a catch."

"I get that he feels guilty and all, but… Ayen is all grown up now."

"Yeah. He's mature and knows what he's doing. His, uh… his body has also… khm. Matured."

"Of course. He grew up well."

They sigh in acchilean solidarity.

"You can't tell this to anyone," Minho blurts, suddenly. Jisung flinches. "I wasn't even supposed to tell you this."

"Yeah, of course! Don't worry." Jisung grins. "Your secret is safe with me."

Minho nods, staring at him.

Silence stretches over them once more. It's comfortable, to be thrown on the couch next to Minho, simply existing; Jisung's eyelids flutter, threatening to slip shut, when Minho's voice snaps him back to reality again, "Jisung-ah."

"Hm?"

"What would you do?"

"Huh? What do—"

"If you caught me jerking off." Minho turns his face to look at Jisung. For some reason, Jisung is already looking at him. "Would you act weird too?"

Jisung goes cold.

"What?" He babbles, eyes wide and almost pleading, as if he's begging Minho to not force his mind to think about—

"I think I saw you hard so many times that I wouldn't even mind seeing you jerking off," Minho smirks, never breaking eye contact. Jisung is stuck in place; his throat is clogged, his knees buckle, his feet are glued to the ground. "In fact, I kind of… want it. To see it. To watch."

"W-what?!" Jisung cries. Minho's smirk widens.

"Jisung-ah," he singsongs, "touch yourself for hyung."

For a split second, Jisung's brain sets off all the signals of arousal: fuck, it's like Minho is pressing all the right buttons to turn him on. A wave of warmth cascades down his body, tingling on his nape, chest, stomach and thighs. He gulps, looking like a deer in headlights — except, perhaps a suicidal deer, because he desperately wants to lunge into the headlights and let it obliterate him completely. For a split second, Jisung raises his hand, trembling, and drags it to rest on his lap, no questions asked.

Then, it hits.

"Wait. Wait, no!" Jisung jumps, standing up, and points at Minho as if he has just offended Jisung's entire family. "You're trying to get me to lose! I'm not falling for that! You—you son of a bitch!"

Minho laughs with his full chest, head thrown back onto the cushion. "Ah, it was worth a shot. You looked like you were about to do it for a second."

Jisung furiously blushes. He crosses his arms, pouting. "As if! Only in your dreams. Pervert."

Minho's still giggling when Jisung closes the door to his room and hides beneath the covers.

Good thing Minho didn't ask if he was hard this time. That is between Jisung and god.

Seo Changbin

[09/13 03:17] rise and shine alvin and the chipmunks

GUIDES_FINAL_FINALFR_PLEASENOMOREEDITS_FINAL.zip

go through these and give me feedback till noon please

but just so you know if you ask to change anything i'm gonna hit you with rocks

[09/13 06:27] hyung i think i wanna change some stuff on tracks 1, 2, 5 and 6

oh and on track 4 too

[09/13 06:32] THROWS ROCKS AT YOU 💥💥💥

[09/13 06:35] LMAO

nah we good

idk why we put so much effort into the guides like. we could easily just release these as songs

[09/13 06:40] tbh we SHOULD release a full yeni-centric album

the kid's getting better and better each day

our baby is all grown up 😭

Jisung sighs. He curls up in a fetal position, thinking back to his conversation with Minho the night before. His mind doesn't even dwell too much on Jeongin's alleged maturity; it quickly rushes to Minho's absurd proposition, the sly, competitive bastard that wants Jisung to lose No Fap so badly it makes both of them look — and act — stupid.

"Jisung-ah, touch yourself for hyung."

Jisung stomps his feet on the mattress and shakes his head like a dog drying itself.

[09/13 06:42] oh by the way, a little spoiler

chan-hyung asked minho-hyung to start thinking of the choreo for our (likely) title track

so we miiiight have to practice on your birthday

[09/13 06:51] ah it's fine

not like i was gonna do anything special tbh

It sucks just a little bit. Jisung kind of wishes he could stay inside all day watching anime, but he figures it's not the end of the world; dancing with his members is also fun.

[09/13 07:00] hyung will treat you to something nice~~

And, yeah. Also that. His members take such good care of him…

"Jisung-ah? Are you awake?"

Jisung blinks. A faint light comes into the room as the door opens, momentarily blinding him. Minho peeks in, smiling — probably, Jisung can't tell, but he likes to think Minho is smiling.

"Happy birthday, old man."

Jisung chuckles, sitting up to rub his eyes and dissipate his sleepiness. Minho steps inside and sits next to Jisung on the bed.

"Did you sleep well?" Minho asks, observing Jisung yawning and stretching. Jisung hums. "I asked Chan to schedule our practice for later so you could sleep in."

"What time is it?" Jisung's voice is raspy.

"It's early. But I wanted to give you your present before we had breakfast."

At the word present, Jisung perks up. He widens his eyes, forcing himself to wake up fully, and Minho laughs at him. He hands Jisung a small box, wrapped with green paper and decorated with a pink bow. Jisung smiles fondly. "Thank you, hyung. I love you."

Minho doesn't say anything, simply keeps smiling as he watches Jisung tear open the wrapper and reveal what's inside. It takes him a second to read the label—

Minho cackles like a witch.

"Hyung," Jisung whines, "what—what the fuck is this—"

"I think my Jisungie is old enough to be introduced to the wonders of the prostate."

Jisung can't believe his eyes. There, in between his palms, rests the Ultimate Prostate Massager 5in1 HotDeluxe™; it promises a sleek, comfortable design, a waterproof and skin safe material, five modes of vibration, fast charging and battery life up to 12 hours. On the back, Jisung checks the available colors: black, pink, purple and gold, with a check mark next to the pink option. And Minho is still giggling.

"You… you know I can't use this, right? Until October, at least?" Jisung's eyes are doubled in size, eyebrows wrinkled and mouth open in shock.

"Mhmm," Minho's smile stretches from ear to ear, irritatingly cute teeth poking at his bottom lip. "I know."

Jisung blinks. "Do you hate me?"

Minho shakes his head, taps Jisung's knee and gets up, strolling to the door. "Wash your face and come eat. Hyung made you breakfast."

Now that Jisung is finally awake, he can smell the inviting, warm scent of food coming from the kitchen. He drops his gift somewhere on his bed and follows Minho to the corridor.

An hour later, after stuffing his face with cake like there was no tomorrow, Jisung is spread on the couch, trying to pick something on YouTube to watch. Minho joins him a second later, with a book under his arm. "What are you going to watch?"

"I dunno," Jisung pouts, "there are too many options."

Minho hums. He opens his book, leaving the bookmark on the armrest, and says, "do you need help with your present?", as if he was talking about the weather.

Jisung splutters. "W-what? What—what do you mean, help?"

"Have you ever used one of those? They can be a little tricky on your first time."

Birds sing outside. It's a beautiful day; a bright Monday, to start off the week in high spirits. It's Jisung's birthday. Why is his roommate talking about sex toys in such a sacred day?

Jisung tilts his body on the couch, facing Minho directly. "Have you ever used one of those?"

Minho looks at him from behind the cover of his book. He deadpans, "I'm gay."

"W-well, you—you don't need to be gay to like having your, uh." Jisung scratches his neck. "Your inner bean flicked."

Minho bursts out laughing. "Okay, wokesung, you got me. But I've had boyfriends, you know. I have been on…" Minho purses his lips. His ears and neck are flaming red. "…on the vicinity of prostates—"

Jisung throws his head back, shoulders shaking, eyes clamping shut and hand weakly slapping Minho's shoulder. He's laughing so hard that it doesn't even make a sound. God, why are they talking about prostates on Jisung's birthday? This is also not part of the MinSung household protocol.

"Oh, my god, shut the fuck up," Jisung mumbles, hiding his face in his hands. "Ask me about this in October, 'kay?"

"We should at least check if it's working, 'cause I'll need to return it if it isn't."

Jisung gets the bait and hurries to his room, grabbing the box and settling it on the couch in between them. "When did you even buy this?"

"Yesterday. Express shipping is truly something else," Minho says, closing his book. He pushes the box closer to Jisung. "Go on. It's yours."

Jisung hesitates, suddenly embarrassed, but fiddles with the box for a moment before removing the seal and popping the lid open. He grabs the toy in his hand and just… stares at it. The toy isn't too long or too thick, a stub with a bulbous head, with a handle-like shape curving to the other side, all pastel pink. The material is soft and velvety; while fidgeting with it, Jisung finds three buttons at the base, presumably to change the speed and mode of the vibrations.

"Did it come with everything?" Minho frowns, dumping the box's other contents on the couch. A small charging cable and an equally small remote control bounce on the cushion. "Huh? I swear I bought the option with a storage bag…"

Jisung is still staring at the toy in his hands like it's an alien object when Minho finally finds the pink velvet bag. Minho smirks at him.

"So? Did you like your gift?"

Jisung blinks, looking up at Minho with a blank expression. "I'm—I—how would I know?"

"Ah, guess it can't be helped," Minho exaggerates a sigh, "you'll have to use it and tell me if you like it. I need to leave a review for the seller."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "I'm not falling for that. Like I said, ask me in October."

Minho snorts. "You're no fun. But, just in case you change your mind," Minho grabs the toy from Jisung's hands and plugs the charger at the bottom port. "You can charge it in pretty much anything. These buttons are for the vibrations, but I think using the controller will be more comfortable. Do you know how to use it?"

"The controller?" Jisung blinks.

"The toy," Minho smiles. "It's nothing complicated, you just need patience and a lot of lube."

"Did—" Jisung ignores how his cheeks are heating up. "Did you buy me those too?"

Minho fakes a pained expression, with brows furrowed and a tilted head. "Ah, I should've. My bad, Jisungie. I ruined your birthday celebration."

Jisung shakes his head. "I hate you."

The prostate massager gets neatly stored inside the pink velvet bag, along with the charger and the remote. And if Jisung leaves the bag under his bed, in a reachable distance, assume it's for good fortune for the upcoming year. Maybe a pink vibrating anal toy is the lucky charm Jisung needs.

Jisung is welcomed into the practice room with a commotion of claps and shouts. He bows, twirls, puts a hand on his chest and thanks his members, cheeks stretched into a wide smile as everyone sings happy birthday to you.

Minho introduces the basic steps to the chorus and divides everyone into groups so they can work on the most critical parts first. The choreography is sturdy and calculated, laced in the typical Stray Kids attitude, with bold moves that match both the rhythm and the lyrics; Jisung is tempted to say Minho outdid himself, but when does he not? Just this morning, he managed to surprise Jisung with a delicious home cooked breakfast and an out-of-pocket gift.

Which Jisung is definitely not thinking about, by the way. Nuh-uh. He is now the proud owner of a prostate massager and that surely doesn't change anything. It's just a sex toy. Jisung is being so fucking normal about it.

He's staring — and he only realizes that when Minho catches his eyes in the mirror and winks at him.

Jisung blushes like a teenager, giggling, and guides his attention back to Yongbok, who's practicing the footwork. The remaining practice is a collection of Jisung and Minho exchanging glances and smiles, as if there's no one else in the room.

Chan decides to end it when there are more people laid on the floor than dancing. They clap, say they did well, and start getting ready to leave; one by one, the members go up to Jisung to hug him and wish him a happy birthday — Jeongin even gives him a peck on the cheek. Changbin makes a shushing gesture and hands him a bottle of lychee flavored soju. Chan picks him up and spins him in the air, cooing at how his baby is all grown up, while Jisung groans and complains (and loves every single second of it.)

On the ride home, Minho touches Jisung's pinky finger with his pinky. They look at each other briefly before gazing elsewhere.

Yes, it's a good day. Jisung is glad to have another year on this world next to his favorite people.

Jisung wants to launch himself into the sun.

For some unknown, unexplainable, ungodly reason, Jisung decided it would be a good idea to look at his brand new sex toy again, now in the privacy of his room.

And it's… so, so tempting. Like a snake who offers an apple — and Jisung is only human.

Jisung glides his fingers down the longer curve, feeling the velvety touch of silicon, the subtle waves imprinted on the surface, down to the base and the handle. He holds it in his hand, carefully, examining, and uses his other hand to grab the handle, sliding the toy back and forth over his palm. Jisung imagines how it'd feel… inside of him.

A shock of warmth travels over his entire body.

He pictures himself laid on his back, legs hanging in the air, with both of his hands slippery with lube as he guides the toy to in between his thighs, dragging down his cock and teasing his rim. Jisung would push it in slowly, careful to not hurt himself, and the stretch would sting so good it'd probably be enough to get him hard and needy without even turning on the vibrations.

"Tch. I bought you a toy that vibrates because I want you to use the vibrations, silly."

And the plug would stir to life, pulsing inside Jisung, the tip pushed oh-so-perfectly against his prostate, and Jisung would see stars. He'd need only a few pumps on his cock to cum all over himself, dirtying his stomach and chest, spine bent and eyes rolled back; and he'd be immediately shocked when the vibrations inside him went up a notch. "H-hyung, too much," he'd whine, but Minho would only chuckle and shush him.

"Hyung knows what's best for you."

Jisung's hand twitches. Hitting automatic mode, Jisung drops his right hand to rest on top of his lap, thumb caressing the outline of his hard cock. He shivers, skin prickling with sweat and desire, and his mouth parts into a soft sigh, heart racing against his rib cage and silencing his thoughts.

He realizes what he's about to do a mere inch away from wrapping his hand around his dick.

Jisung throws the massager to the other side of the bed as if it's on fire and coils in on himself. He's breathing hard, both shocked and turned on, and the weight of what just happened and what almost happened hits him like a truck.

First of all, what the fuck. Jisung is no stranger to fantasizing with Minho, but usually it has some sort of build-up. Perhaps Jisung is desperate enough to jump straight to the part that matters; perhaps Minho has successfully infiltrated the depths of his mind with the whole make-Jisung-lose shenanigan.

Second of all, listen. Jisung is also no stranger to the pleasures of his behind. Cute of Minho to assume he was introducing Jisung to the wonders of the prostate, but Jisung has been sailing this boat for years at this point — he's pretty sure he has a dildo forgotten somewhere in the darkness of his closet. The prospect of using a vibrating toy shouldn't put Jisung so on edge.

Third of all… well. Does this count as losing? Jisung technically touched himself with the intent of pleasure, but it was so brief and superficial that he feels it'd be unfair to say he lost. He didn't even get to enjoy it! Whatever, Jisung is still on the run.

But he has to put a stop to this. Minho had etched dangerously too deep into Jisung's frontal lobe; one more stupid tease and Jisung might actually do it.

Jisung's phone buzzes. (He definitely doesn't get startled because for half a second he thought the prostate massager had come to life and was going to force Jisung to masturbate — Minho has really done a number on him.)

And, speaking of the devil…

Lee Knong

[09/14 23:02] Jisung-ah

If you need help with your new toy, just ask me

Hyung can always give you a hand

[09/14 23:03] u seem very fixated on "helping" me

it's kinda pathetic tbh

also who said anything about the toy?

[09/14 23:05] Yeah?

What were you doing?

Jisung looks over his shoulder, as if he's about to find a hidden camera behind him. Is he that easy to read? Or is Minho just a lucky bastard? Or maybe Jisung's reading too much into it? God, he's going insane already.

[09/14 23:06] nothing much

just thinking yk

i'm a year older now, i gotta reflect on life and stuff

[09/14 23:07] Don't lie to hyung

You were staring at the toy, weren't you?

[09/14 23:10] …

ok wtf

did u put a camera in my room or smth?

[09/14 23:11] ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

I just know you too well

[09/14 23:12] well thanks for caring but i don't need ur help

i'm literally so chill rn

i'm gonna win this and u'll look stupid

[09/14 23:14] Are you sure? Hyung can give you a good time

[09/14 23:14] why do u want this so much?

[09/14 23:14] It will be funny when I make you lose

You know I love putting you in your place

Jisung lays down on his side and curls up like a croissant. Warmth seeps from the top of his head down to his toes, sending his mind into overdrive. Ugh, this is so ridiculous. Jisung shouldn't be getting so affected by it.

[09/14 23:17] and u think my place is in the losers podium???

[09/14 23:18] Hey, at least Chan did you a favor and took last place ㅋㅋ

Well, if you ever want a helping hand, you know where to come

(Literally)

[09/14 23:20] fuck you

[09/14 23:20] No, fuck you

That's why I gave you the toy

[09/14 23:21] 🖕🖕🖕

[09/14 23:21] I gave you the toy so you wouldn't need those either

[09/14 23:22] i swear i'm gonna kill u in ur sleep

[09/14 23:23] Come for hyung, then

I'll be waiting

Jisung wishes he could roll up into himself until he disappears.

But it's fine. It's literally so fine. Jisung has a prostate massager, almost touched himself to the thought of his roommate and said roommate has been making this challenge hell for no reason other than being a total dick. And it's fine. Minho has shed his webs all over Jisung's brain and overtaken his every thought and it's fine.

Touch yourself for hyung. Hyung knows what's best for you. Come for hyung, then.

Jisung buries his face in the pillow and hopes it's enough to suffocate him until October.

When the door to the practice room opens, Jisung goes straight to Yongbok to give him a bear hug and sing him happy birthday in english. Yongbok laughs, fake-complaining about his eardrums exploding, but hugs back just as tight and thanks Jisung with a low murmur. The members coo and smother Yongbok with affection before kicking into gear and beginning practice.

"Okay, we're doing duos today," Minho announces, "split however you like and help your partner with the move they're struggling with the most. Twenty minutes of this, then we practice all together."

Jisung doesn't even get the chance to think about getting a partner before Minho is all up in his personal space, both hands nested on Jisung's waist and chest glued to his back. Minho catches Jisung's eyes in the mirror and smirks.

"I noticed yesterday that you're having a bit of trouble with the body roll," Minho says, low and dragged-out, right below the shell of Jisung's ear, "let hyung help you with that."

Jisung gulps, nodding, suddenly at a loss for words. Minho's fingers dig into Jisung's shirt as he guides Jisung to circle his hips. Jisung's back rubs on Minho's crotch, and Jisung can't help but tremble in his grasp.

"Yes, there you go. Just like that, Jisungie."

Jisung stares into Minho's eyes in the mirror. Minho's expression is dark and mischievous; he's doing it on purpose, the bastard, and the worst part is that it's working. Jisung has half a mind to will himself into thinking about puppies and cookies to prevent an erection from forming in front of everyone — the other half is boiling with repressed lust, arousing his pores and dripping sweat down his spine.

"One more time for hyung," Minho instructs, impossibly close and warm and intimate. He chuckles, blowing air on Jisung's ear. "Han Jisung, don't you dare get hard during my dance practice."

Jisung squints. "You're one to talk. What's this thing in my back, you pervert?"

It's mostly a bluff; Jisung is so focused on taking care of his own bodily reactions that he'd be lying if he said he felt anything other than Minho's hands on his waist and Minho's breath against his nape. But, now that he said it… there is something poking at the back of Jisung's thigh, something that goes away when Minho distances himself briefly.

"You're imagining things," Minho mutters, but Jisung can see in the mirror the moment Minho's ears go red.

"Am I?" Jisung pushes his hips backwards, gluing himself to Minho again. Minho bites his lip, a brief reaction that vanishes just as quickly, but Jisung is now completely focused on Minho and every minute expression that runs through his face. "Lee Minho, are you—"

"Damn, what do I need to do to get one-on-one training like that?" Chan interrupts, laughing at the pair, and Jisung steps away from Minho on instinct. Minho giggles.

"Let me see your body roll," he says. Chan obliges, undulating his body with the precision of someone whose train never sleeps, and Minho hums. "Yeah, we can work on that." And puts his chest to Chan's back while Chan blushes and squirms. The others catch the interaction and start laughing and piling around Minho to be the next in line, and Jisung is left to the side, out of breath, sweaty, and fidgety.

Fuck, he needs to get his hand around his dick pronto.

"What's going on?" Jeongin asks, staring at the mess of tangled limbs and loud giggles right in front of them. Jisung shrugs.

"Minho has a special technique, apparently." Jisung turns to look at Jeongin. "Aren't you gonna get in line?"

Jeongin shakes his head vigorously. "I'm good," he mutters, fiddling with his cross necklace.

Jisung snorts. Yeah, he's good; Jeongin definitely doesn't need a devil in his shoulder tempting him to go against his willpower.

When they're leaving, Minho puts a palm on Jisung's lower back and keeps it there until they're entering the company van; then, as their thighs are pushed together in the back seat, Minho leans into Jisung's space and nudges Jisung's neck. "Jisung-ah, what are we having for dinner? I'm starving."

Jisung gulps, freezing in place. "I-I don't know, hyung, what's on your mind?"

Minho smiles against Jisung's ear. "You."

"I'm—" Jisung lets out a squeaky laugh. "I'm not edible, though?"

"Hm? But you look delicious."

Jisung jerks his head away, turning to look at Minho. He's smiling, eyes shining with that alluring glint, visible even in the dimness of the car, hair disheveled and shirt clinging to the sweat on his chest. If they were somewhere else, with better lighting, Jisung would probably be able to see the contours of Minho's body, his large pecs and defined shoulders, the straight lines of his abdomen, the dips on either side of his hip bones that point down to his crotch. Jisung can't decide if the darkness is a curse or a blessing.

"You're weird, dude," Jisung mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. Minho chuckles, breathy and tired, unfairly attractive and utterly addicting.

"God forbid I show some appreciation for my roommate," he says, running a hand on Jisung's sweaty fringe.

"Hm. Appreciation. I know what you're doing, you son of a bitch."

"Now, now," he tuts, as if talking to one of his cats, "that's not a very respectful way to talk to your hyung."

Jisung looks at him, lip curled into fake disgust, and Minho laughs. "I don't think you deserve my respect."

"Oh?" Minho puts his elbow on the head rest, supporting his face with his hand. His whole body is turned on the seat, facing Jisung, eyes never wavering. "And what do I deserve, then?"

Jisung sighs, crossing his arms. "Nothing. You've been making my life hell."

"And you've been loving every second of it."

Jisung scoffs, rolling his eyes, but the smile that spreads on his lips is enough to betray his whole demeanor. He opens his mouth to retort, but the van stops at their dorm and Minho pokes him in the hip.

"See you all tomorrow. C'mon, Jisungie."

"Bye, guys," Jisung says, ignoring the chorus of aww, Jisungieee! that erupts in the car, courtesy of Changbin and Seungmin.

Jisung and Minho press their backs to the mirror inside the elevator. They watch the visor as the numbers go up.

"Something spicy," Minho mutters, "like dakgalbi."

"Sounds good."

"Dakgalbi for dinner," Minho side eyes Jisung, "and quokka for dessert."

Jisung side eyes Minho back. Minho is holding back a laugh. "You're dumb."

"You love it."

When Jisung exits the elevator, Minho slaps him in the butt. Jisung glares at him, but doesn't say anything, instead running to the safety of their apartment. He barely hears Minho's "hyung will order now" before grabbing a change of clothes and locking himself in the bathroom.

Fuck. Fuck.

Jisung has been on edge pretty much the entire day. The abstinence of September, paired with the things Jisung imagined yesterday and topped with Minho's insistent prodding… Jisung exhales shakily. He looks down at himself, watching his chest heaving, his knees buckling, his toes curling inside his socks.

It'd be so easy. He could turn on the shower, wrap a hand around himself and jerk off quietly and everything would be settled. No one has to know. No one would ever know. Just once, to get rid of the desperation, and Jisung can easily fly by the rest of the month. It was his birthday yesterday, he deserves a little treat.

"Jisung-ah?" Three knocks pull Jisung back to reality. "Everything okay in there?"

"Uh, y-yeah," he creaks back, "why?"

"You've been in there for a bit, but I don't hear the shower running. Do you need anything?"

Jisung's heart jumps. He gulps, fingers twitching on each side of his hips. His mind is foggy; he can't think, can't articulate his words, can't—

A snort, teasing, mocking. "Aww, is someone going to lose?"

Jisung shivers. The fog dissipates. "Fuck off! As if, pervert!"

Minho laughs loudly. Jisung turns on the shower and drowns out any additional noises.

He can't lose and give Minho the satisfaction. He'd rather go fucking insane than to relent and let Minho win. If Minho somehow manages to get to the end of the month without jerking off, he'd win twice! Jisung can't let that happen. He has to hold his head high and keep his hands to himself and his mind full of puppies and cookies and grandmas and not Minho. In fact, he should forget about Minho's existence entirely. So what if Minho had hugged him earlier and whispered in his ear and pressed his half-hard cock on Jisung's thigh? Jisung doesn't care. Whatever.

Jisung scrubs his body diligently and gets dressed and sits on the couch and waits for dinner to get there and everything is under control. And when Minho steps out of the shower, hair wet and face flushed and loose sweatpants hanging from his hips, Jisung sucks in a breath and thinks about anything but the chiseled lines of Minho's body. Whatever.

Before they each retreat to their rooms, Minho smirks and lets his eyes linger. "Don't think too much, Jisung-ah. Or else you might lose… sleep."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Don't worry," he forces a smile, mocking, "I'll be sure to come to you if I need help."

Minho nods, satisfied, and disappears behind his door.

Jisung groans. What. Ever.

But things are never easy, are they? If they were, we wouldn't write stories. There would be nothing to talk about.

The thing is, no matter how much Jisung tries, he simply can not forget everything that happened this month — and, honestly, way before that too. He can't brush off the way Minho looks at him, talks to him, touches him; how Minho is so focused on making Jisung lose control, how he's so confident that he can make Jisung lose control.

And he can. And Jisung hates it as much as he loves it.

He weighs his options: one, he can try his best to keep moving forward, ignoring everything and pretending it has nothing to do with him. Minho will keep pestering him, but they're officially past the mid point and Jisung only has two more weeks to endure. When October rolls around, Minho will either leave him alone, or Jisung will be free to jerk off about it, so it won't be as much of a bother. Two, he can give in and touch himself. Realistically, there's nothing stopping him from doing so; yeah, he'll get teased for a bit, but the topic will eventually fizzle out and no one will remember it in a month or two. Jisung thinks about how no one is poking fun at Chan anymore and gets weirdly encouraged. Three…

He could. They could. Jisung has doubted for years if the thing going on between them was mutual or not, but now… it's clear as day that Minho wants Jisung as much as Jisung wants Minho, or else he wouldn't be so bold on his approaches — and also wouldn't be getting hard while teasing Jisung. Minho is also in abstinence; they could help each other out. Put the Jeongin Strategy to the test. Maybe they can even form an alliance and win as a duo.

They could. But the question is… should they? Jisung worries his lip in between his teeth. They've been on this weird on-and-off dynamic for as long as he can remember, always teasing and insinuating but never fully committing to it. At first, Jisung was still a little ball of anxiety, too stressed to even figure out his own desires, let alone act on them; when he got better, the timing was off, since Minho had recently begun a new relationship. The fanservice went by smoothly, as respectful as they could manage, and they didn't address the sex elephant in the room.

But things are different now. Minho broke up last year. Jisung is in therapy and taking care of himself. The members have been opening up to each other and they all feel like family now — genuinely, not one of those good-for-publicity talks. Jisung trusts them with his life. He trusts Minho to the moon and back.

It could fuck up everything. It could fuck with Stray Kids as a whole. It could be their Yoko Ono situation.

But it could also be fine. It could be just what they needed. It could be a fun way to relieve stress. If things go south, Jisung trusts Minho and the others to be responsible adults about it.

Jisung grabs his phone, fingers twitching, palms sweaty, and types before he can talk himself out of this:

[09/15 23:22] are u awake?

It takes Minho three minutes to answer. For Jisung, it feels like three hours.

[09/15 23:25] Yes, why?

Jisung rolls out of bed, fumbling with his hands, knocks twice on Minho's door and barges in before his mind catches up to what's happening.

Minho is sat on his bed, legs crossed, pulling his neck gently to the side to stretch it. He blinks up at Jisung, taken aback. "Uh. Hello?"

"Hyung," Jisung whines, pathetic and pliant, embarrassed, frustrated, angry and so, so fucking horny, "fuck, hyung. Can you help me? Please?"

Minho pays him a once over. The room is mostly dark, illuminated partially by the yellow lamp on Minho's desk, turned downwards at an open book. It takes Minho a few seconds to understand what Jisung is pleading for — and his eyes go wide when he gets it.

"Han Jisung, are you—"

"Yes," Jisung cries, "yes, I'm hard, hyung, you don't need to—"

"No, that's not—" Minho takes a deep breath. "Are you sure? It's… not really something we can just… pretend never happened."

Yes, Jisung had plenty of time to consider every single possibility. It's not something minimal, something that won't change their relationship or how they interact with each other, it might even impact SKZ's dynamic as a group. Jisung thought about all that — can't stop thinking about all that.

But it hurts. It's so annoying and Jisung is so tired—

"Come here," Minho says, and Jisung obeys instantly, crawling onto Minho's bed.

Jisung can't look too long at Minho's face — the infuriatingly perfect face, the slightly widened eyes, the flushed cheekbones, the front teeth poking at his bottom lip, the messy bed hair —, so he turns to sit with his back pressed to Minho's chest, mimicking their contact at the practice room. Minho gasps, but doesn't move away.

"Jisung-ah, we should—" Minho mumbles, hands fixed on each side of his hips. Jisung squirms closer, until they're stuck together, until there's only the thin layer of Minho's shirt in between their naked skins, until—

"Hurry," Jisung pleads. Minho seems to finally kick into action, running his hands softly down Jisung's naked torso, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. Jisung trembles. "Hyung—"

"Shh, it's okay, jagi. Hyung's got you," Minho promises, voice quieter, a soft murmur against Jisung's ear. "Let me just get the lube—"

"No. Don't need it," Jisung says. He grabs Minho's wrist, bringing it to rest on top of his erection. "Please. Hurts."

Minho gulps, but doesn't argue, instead pushing Jisung's boxers down, his cock bouncing out and slapping against his stomach. Jisung exhales, throwing his head on Minho's shoulder.

"Fuck," Minho breathes, hovering his hand next to Jisung's dick. "You sure?"

Jisung whines. "Yes."

And then, finally, Minho wraps his fingers around Jisung's cock, grip tight and hot and perfect, and slides his hand down to the base and up to the tip.

…And Jisung cums all over himself.

Jisung barely registers it, widening his eyes as his cum splatters on his stomach and down Minho's fist, shivers of both shock and pleasure running up his legs. Minho's paralyzed, staring at Jisung's cock as if it's something from outer space.

"Oh, my god," Minho mumbles, "you're—you're still hard."

Jisung can't breathe. His mind is fuzzy; from the recent orgasm, the horniness, the way Minho's voice has gone lower pitched, who knows. "T-told you I didn't need lube."

Minho lets out a breathy laugh. It tickles Jisung's ear. "Has this ever happened before?"

Jisung looks up at him, hesitating, and shakes his head no. Minho inhales.

"Fuck," he utters, wrapping his hand around Jisung's cock, using his cum as lube.

Jisung groans, thrusting up into it. It's heavenly; Jisung missed it so much, fuck, the presumed impeding jokes at his expanse are nothing compared to the drag of Minho's palm up and down his cock. It's not as tight as when Jisung does it himself — Minho is probably being careful —, but the mere touch on his skin is enough to send all of Jisung's senses into overdrive. He's squirming against Minho's chest, head rolling side to side on Minho's shoulder and hands gripping onto the sheets, lips parted in a continuous river of curses and grunts.

Jisung is pulled from his frenzied state when he hears Minho giggling. He frowns, "why are you laughing?"

"What was that about me being a pervert who won't last a week?"

If Jisung's cock twitches at Minho's taunting tone, he'll take it with him to the grave. "Shut—shut up," Jisung mutters.

"Should I?" Minho glues his lips to Jisung's ear. "You look like you're enjoying yourself. Pervert."

Jisung rolls his eyes. He'd love to keep arguing, but Minho decides to speed up his wrist and all thoughts fizzle from Jisung's mind. "Ah, fuck…"

"Is it good, jagi?"

The pet name makes Jisung whine high on his throat. He shivers, hips twitching to meet Minho's movements. "S-so good, hyung."

Minho sighs, squeezing the head of Jisung's cock, rubbing his thumb over the slit. With his other hand, Minho caresses Jisung's hip, fingers outlining the bone jutting from under his skin and the intricate lines of his tattoo, tapping goosebumps all over Jisung's pores. Jisung grabs onto Minho's thigh and bites his lip.

"Close," he utters. Minho hums, circling his palm on Jisung's head before going back to pumping his cock, faster, tighter, perfect. Jisung tenses up, face going lax. "M-Minho-hyung! Fuck, fuck—!"

Jisung's eyes roll into his skull as he climaxes, adding to the mess on his stomach and chest, trembling and covering his mouth to muffle a louder moan. Minho strokes him through it, until he's sure Jisung's done. Jisung melts in Minho's lap and just… breathes.

Fuck. Fuck. He did it. He came twice. Fuck, he can finally live again.

The crickets are chirping, the wind is blowing, the planets are aligned, the world is warm and life is beautiful.

"You owe me two speeches of shame."

Of course, happiness doesn't last forever.

Jisung blinks, sitting up and turning to look at Minho's shit-eating grin. He's trying to act nonchalant, but his flushed cheeks betray his facade — not that Jisung would ever fall for it, either way.

"Why? I didn't lose anything," Jisung reasons. "You offered help and I accepted it. Simply a transaction between two honorable, respectable men. There's no shame in that."

"Sure. Whatever makes you sleep at night, pervert." Minho rolls his eyes. "Now go clean yourself, you're disgusting. Ugh, I literally just changed these sheets…"

Jisung giggles. He floats to the bathroom, lightweight and overjoyed, feeling capable of carrying the entirety of the world on top of his shoulders.

It's only when the shower is already running that Jisung realizes he failed the first rule of being a gentleman: always reciprocate.

Oh, well. He shrugs. There's still fifteen days left for Minho to ask for payback.

They have breakfast together, and, much to Jisung's surprise, Minho almost doesn't poke fun at him. Afterwards, while they're sitting on the couch, watching YouTube, chatting and nibbling on some Pepero, Minho arches his eyebrows as if remembering something and fishes out his phone.

A few seconds after, Jisung's phone buzzes with a new message.

[09/16 09:12] Lee Knong: Btw, something happened yesterday

Jisung goes bright red. Before Minho can type anything else, he jumps and snatches the phone away from Minho's hands. Minho widens his eyes. "What the—"

"You don't have to tell them that! Are you trying to kill me from embarrassment?!" Jisung yells, brows up to his hairline.

Minho blinks rapidly. A smile stretches on his lips, slow, dangerous, and that mysterious glint in his eyes emerges. "How do you know I was gonna tell them about that?"

"What else would you have to say?" Jisung's nostrils flare. "Promise me you won't tell them anything. Please."

Minho nods. "Mhm, okay. Can I have my phone back?"

Jisung hesitates, but relents, giving Minho his phone and sitting down next to him. Jisung stares at the screen of his own phone, attentive to the group chat.

[09/16 09:13] Yongbok: oh?

[09/16 09:15] Kim Seungmo: the tension is killing me 🥱

[09/16 09:16] CB97: What is it, Minho-yah? Are you okay?

[09/16 09:17] Lee Knong: I'm fine

Just wanted to say I had a weird dream

[09/16 09:18] Kim Seungmo: that's it???

[09/16 09:19] Lee Knong: Have we ever thought of doing a sexy cowboys concept?

[09/16 09:20] Hwang Hyunjin: why tf are you dreaming about sexy cowboys

[09/16 09:20] Lee Knong: 😈

Jisung snorts, rolling his eyes.

[09/16 09:21] HAN: pervert ☝️

[09/16 09:21] Hwang Hyunjin: pervert ☝️

[09/16 09:21] Ayen: pervert ☝️

[09/16 09:22] Kim Seungmo: talking about perverts

how come no one else has lost yet?

is chan-hyung the only depraved person in this group?

[09/16 09:23] Yongbok: i'm gonna be honest i completely forget masturbation exists

i only remember we're doing this challenge when you guys talk about it lol

[09/16 09:24] Seo Changbin: GOOD FOR YOU.

[09/16 09:24] Hwang Hyunjin: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

[09/16 09:26] CB97: Why am I catching strays here???

Well. I guess it's on brand.

[09/16 09:27] Kim Seungmo: UGH SHUT UP OLD MAN

[09/16 09:28] Seo Changbin: LMAOOOO

Jisung laughs with his full chest. Minho has pocketed his phone, instead focused on tapping his mouth with the half-eaten chocolate Pepero in his hand. "Jisung-ah…"

"Hm?" Jisung turns to look at him, eyes darting back to his phone every now and then. Several people are typing. It's rare to have the group chat so talkative.

"About, uh… about last night," Minho says, not meeting Jisung's eyes, "shouldn't we… talk about it?"

They should. It was a huge step-up from their usual antics; flirting and doing fanservice is one thing, but to actually hook up is… yeah. No matter if it was driven by the desperation of self-inflicted celibacy or nerves or a spur of the moment or all of the above plus years of tension.

Jisung nods. "I think we should, but… to be honest, I don't have much to say," he awkwardly chuckles, now also avoiding Minho's gaze. "It's—uh, I-I'm sorry?"

"No!" Minho turns his head abruptly. The half-eaten Pepero swings in his hand. "No, don't—it's fine. I don't feel, like—it's—you did nothing wrong."

"You neither," Jisung retorts, before Minho can go down the guilt rabbit hole. "I think I was a bit… forceful."

"You weren't. I offered. And," Minho smiles, "I have been making your life hell this month."

"You have," Jisung sighs. He exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. "So annoying."

Minho laughs. They sit in silence for a moment.

Then, "would you… do it again?"

Jisung blinks, finally looking at Minho, who has finished his Pepero and is now staring right back. Flashes of last night travel to the front of Jisung's mind; Minho's chest against his back, Minho's hands caressing his skin, Minho's palm wrapped around his cock, Minho's sighs and whispers in his ears, Minho making him cum — twice — all over himself…

"…if you're down, I'm down," Jisung answers and shrugs, acting as if his leg isn't bouncing and his heart isn't racing in his chest. Minho nods.

"Good. I'll keep that in mind."

Whatever that means. Jisung nods too, taking a deep breath.

"Unless you already want it again?"

Jisung widens his eyes, staring at Minho, watching as his stupid smug smirk grows. Jisung scoffs, "as if. I'm not that desperate. It might not even happen again."

"Sure," Minho mutters, "suit yourself."

Jisung shakes his head and guides his eyes back to his phone. The group chat has exploded with 50+ messages already.

[09/16 9:40] HAN: not reading all that

i'm sorry

or congrats

[09/16 9:41] CB97: TL;DR: Are you and Lee Minho free this Saturday? We're going to celebrate the Virgos' bdays

"Are we free on Saturday?" Jisung asks, but Minho is already typing back.

[09/16 9:42] Lee Knong: At what time

[09/16 9:43] Hwang Hyunjin: yall don't even do anything smh

[09/16 9:43] Lee Knong: We might have a solo schedule ??

[09/16 9:44] CB97: Like 8

I'll see if the managers can find us a nice reserved private place

Jisung and Minho exchange glances. Jisung shrugs; Minho arches his eyebrows.

[09/16 9:45] Lee Knong: Sure

[09/16 9:45] HAN: sure

[09/16 9:46] Seo Changbin: aigooo look at the soulmates saying the same thing at the same time 😍😍😍

Jisung stifles a laugh. When he turns to Minho, he's pressing his lips together to hold back as well.

Overlooked aspect of orgasming via someone else's ministrations while on one-on-one celibacy: you kind of get addicted to it.

It's been a day and a half since Jisung finally snapped and asked Minho to help him; Jisung was reborn anew, energized and excited, ready to take on the universe. He even managed to scribble down a few words on his lyrics doc — not that it mattered, since he lost the deadline, but maybe he could produce it as a single soon. It's cathartic; suddenly, the world regained color.

The thing is, Minho didn't stop teasing him, as Jisung predicted. If anything, ever since they sort of hooked up, Minho has amped up his pestering, letting eyes and hands linger on Jisung at every opportunity he can find.

But Jisung is a strong independent man who doesn't need his roommate's touch. He's perfectly fine now that he got the edge off and he will not crawl back to Minho like a desperate pervert.

Nevermind that, during dance practice, Minho is all over him, putting palms on his hips and whispering in his ear and making Jisung repeat that one move with the right leg that ends with him kneeling on the floor. Nevermind that, during recording, Minho only has eyes for him, singing the words into the mic as if he's murmuring them directly into Jisung's mind. Nevermind that, at home, Minho can't stop slapping his butt and grabbing him by the neck and calling him cute.

It's on purpose; Minho wants Jisung to break, just like he has been doing the whole month. But Jisung will not fall for Minho's antics. He will not crawl back.

"You know," Jisung says, when they're both sprawled on the couch, a whatever-movie playing on the TV as background noise, Minho with his face buried in a book and Jisung with his laptop precariously balanced on his lap, "I just realized something."

Minho hums, not taking his eyes off of his book.

"The Virgos' birthday dinner, as Chan called it. I won't have to pay for it. Since, you know, it's my birthday."

"So what?"

"So if I win No Fap, I'll have two paid dinners this month. Isn't that great?"

Minho side eyes Jisung. He flips a page, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "That sounds like one more reason to lose No Fap. You're already getting dinner, there's no need for two."

"Of course there is!" Jisung sits up. He stares at the side of Minho's face, watching as the colors from the TV flash against his cheeks. "Free dinner is always good."

"Yeah?" Minho looks up at him, meeting his eyes effortlessly, as if he knew Jisung was searching for it. Minho's eyes glint. "Better than touching yourself?"

Jisung gulps, frowning. "Yeah. Y-yeah, it's better."

Minho smiles. His eyes cast downwards, idling on Jisung's lips for a moment before finding Jisung's eyes again. Jisung exhales; he clenches his fist, toes wiggling against the carpet, and lets his own gaze falter, focusing on Minho's mouth. Jisung wonders how that plump upper lip would mold against his plump lower lip — a match made in heaven.

"You don't sound so sure," Minho mutters, voice suddenly lower. His book lays open in between his hands. Jisung holds his laptop with a tight grip.

"It's better," he repeats, sounding even less certain than before, "it's so much better, hyung."

Minho takes an audible breath. For a brief moment, his eyes dart elsewhere, indicating the corridor — their rooms. Jisung rubs his sweaty palm on his thigh, tightening his grip on his laptop. The cursor blinks; Jisung doesn't pay attention.

Minho's Adam's apple bobs. "I don't believe you."

"Why… why not?" Jisung breathes. A drop of sweat dribbles down his nape, dying at the collar of his shirt. His leg bounces.

"Han Jisung," Minho smirks, vicious, addicting, tempting, "are you hard?"

"No," Jisung knits his eyebrows, but doesn't dare look at his lap to check. Minho lets out a breathy chuckle. "Are you?"

Minho licks his lips, tilting his head to the side, never taking his eyes off of Jisung, hands twitching around the book, fingers crumpling the open pages. "What if I am?"

"You—you should do something about it," Jisung clears his throat. He's glued to his place. His neurons are firing off, telling him to run, run from the venomous snake, run before he's bitten, but he—

"Should I?" Minho's shoulders tense up. He uncrosses his legs, instead bringing one up to rest on the couch. Jisung mirrors him, laying his thigh on the cushion, and their knees touch, a small point of contact that makes every pore in Jisung's skin lit alive.

"I swear I won't tell anyone," Jisung says, tries to laugh, but his mouth merely twitches, teeth nibbling at his plush lip.

"Yeah? You promise?" Minho echoes, taunting. "Should I do it now?"

"Yes."

"Right here?"

Jisung sighs. "Yes."

Minho leaves his book on the arm rest. Both of his hands hover over his lap, pushing his shirt up just enough to reach the waistband of his sweatpants. Jisung stares without blinking; it's as if everything is in slow motion, how Minho drags his hands down his lower stomach and hooks on the elastic, how he hesitates, how his hard cock twitches beneath the fabric.

"Jisung-ah."

"Y-yeah?"

"Why don't we do it together?"

Jisung snaps his staring contest against Minho's dick, guiding his eyes up to Minho's face. Minho's eyes are half-lidded, lips parted and wet, beads of sweat accumulating in his temples. "H-huh?"

"Do it with me. It's gonna be awkward if hyung's the only one doing it, hm?"

Jisung inhales. He brings one hand to rest on his thigh, the other sliding his laptop to the ground. His cock is hard, tenting his boxers, begging for attention, the mere friction against his underwear being enough to send shivers up Jisung's spine. "But—but then I'll lose—"

"It'll be our little secret," Minho mutters, promises, "I won't tell if you don't. C'mon, Jisungie."

Warmth coils on Jisung's ankles and climbs up, gliding around his calves, thighs, hips, waist, chest, neck and face, squeezing the air out of his lungs, sweeping the thoughts out of his mind. Jisung pins his thumbs under the elastic of his boxers, dragging it down slowly, and Minho mimics him, letting the waistband of his pants rest just below his pelvic bone.

Then, Minho stops. Jisung stops as well.

"Go on. Not like I haven't seen it before," Minho encourages. Jisung scoffs and rolls his eyes… but, yeah, fair, so he pulls his boxers down and tugs it under his balls. His cock curves against his stomach, reddened and pulsing. Minho doesn't even try to hide his lustful gaze, tongue outlining his lips and wetting it with saliva. "There you are."

Jisung feels on the brink of a heart attack. He's seen Minho's naked flaccid dick and Minho's clothed hard dick, but never Minho's naked hard dick. It's the highest point of his month — of his year. It's his belated birthday present, prostate massager be damned. Minho moves his pants just a little lower, hinting at neatly trimmed pubic hair, the base of his cock appearing… and stops there.

Jisung wants to scream. "W-why are you taking so long?"

"I'm waiting for you," Minho says, voice surprisingly even. Jisung glares at him.

"But I—" Jisung widens his eyes. "I have my cock out already!"

"But you're not touching it. C'mon," Minho nods at Jisung's erection, mouth pursing into a sly smile. "Let hyung see how you touch yourself."

Jisung exhales. He blinks; swimming against the fog in his brain, a thread snaps. Jisung jumps and points at Minho's face. "You're—you're waiting for me to touch myself—so you—so you can win—!"

Minho breaks, laughing loudly, and Jisung furiously pulls up his boxers and huffs, retrieving his laptop from the floor and stomping to his room. "Ah, fuck, that was so close! I'll get you next time!"

"Fuck off!" Jisung barks, slamming his door shut.

He puts on his headphones and stares at the half-written lyrics on his screen. His mind, however… his mind is playing an endless loop of Minho's hands dragging his pants down, revealing inches of precious skin, so close and yet so far from the prize.

Jisung smacks himself in the head. When it doesn't work, he pulls up the saddest anime he can find and curls up on his bed to force his mind out of that tempting place. He will not crawl back!

[09/18 01:42] Seo Changbin: I'M BEING SO FUCKING BRAVE RIGHT NOW.

[09/18 01:47] Hwang Hyunjin: i'm honestly impressed by his bravery

everyone congratulate him

[09/18 06:32] Kim Seungmo: ugh i thought someone had lost

no one cares about your acts of bravery ‼️

[09/18 06:40] Hwang Hyunjin: don't be rude to changbin-hyung you brat

[09/18 06:53] Seo Changbin: LOOK WHO'S TALKING!!!!!

[09/18 07:01] CB97: LMAO

[09/18 07:03] Ayen: …congrats?

Water rolls down Jisung's throat, freezing his insides and quenching his tiredness, gulp after gulp. He slides down the wall to sit and takes a deep breath, using his arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead.

Footsteps to his left, then a light kick to his knee, then another body nudging against his as it also settles on the floor. Jisung takes another long sip of water. "Jisung-ah. Jagi."

"Hm." Jisung bites the inside of his cheek, not sparing Minho a glance.

"C'mon..." Minho pokes Jisung's side. "Are you still mad?"

"I don't know, hyung, do I have a reason to be mad?" Jisung turns his face to glare at Minho. When their eyes meet, Jisung has to keep himself from pouting; Minho is staring at him with big eyes and flushed cheeks, drenched in sweat, out of breath and with his hair wild.

Minho sighs. "You do. But I've said I'm sorry already. I bought you cheesecake. C'moooon."

Half of Jisung is, indeed, still mad; he knows how much Minho likes to poke fun at him and get him flustered, but telling Jisung to get his cock and balls out as a prank when Minho knew Jisung was sensitive is… a bit too much. Jisung is not only mad, he's mortified. That whole scene had layers — so Jisung will simply pull out his cock if Minho asks? It's as stupid as it is embarrassing. The other half is… well, Jisung can't lie, he's been enjoying seeing Minho so needy, calling him pet names, caressing his waist, mumbling that he looks good or that he has improved his dancing, smiling at him every now and then and so on. Jisung likes Minho's attention, sue him.

"We should focus on practicing," Jisung mutters, looking elsewhere — but making no move to get up. Minho grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers.

"Jagi-yah, I'm sorry. Hyung promises to stop, hm? I won't try to make you lose again."

Jisung purses his lips. He watches as Hyunjin and Changbin laugh and clap at something that's probably not that funny. Hyunjin puts a hand on Changbin's bicep and squeezes, waiting to see his reaction, which ends up being a total paralysis for one second followed by an overly exaggerated sexy lip bite; Hyunjin giggles and slaps him in the chest.

"You promise?" Jisung knits his eyebrows. Changbin grabs Hyunjin by the waist and twirls him in the air. "Till the end of September?"

"…Okay, like, I'll do my best, but it's just too funny to—"

Jisung sighs and puts his hand on the floor to get up, but Minho, now chuckling, pulls him back, making Jisung fall on Minho's lap. Jisung groans. "Let me go!"

"How about this: every time I try to prank you, I make you feel good afterwards," Minho whispers in Jisung's ear. Jisung widens his eyes, peering at all the other members to check if anyone's paying attention to them. "Hm? What do you think?"

"M-Minho—"

"One prank," Minho mutters, hot breath fanning over Jisung's ear, one palm wrapped around Jisung's wrist and the other resting on Jisung's chest, "one orgasm."

Jisung has to gulp down a whine, whole body clenching in response. Minho lets out a breathy laugh. Jisung turns to glare at him, but his pouty lips and reddened cheeks give him little morale.

"Or more than one, I'm not picky," Minho keeps going, tracing his fingertips down Jisung's stomach, light and tempting, "I liked making you feel good."

Jisung exhales, looking at the others again. Minho gently grabs his jaw and holds eye contact.

"Han Jisung," he smirks, and Jisung wants to fucking punch him— "are you—"

"I hate you," Jisung grits, clamping his eyes shut, both hands grasping Minho's shirt, feet tapping insistently against the floor.

Minho laughs and pulls him into a hug. Jisung buries his face in Minho's chest and gives him a weak punch to his shoulder.

"Hyung promises," he says, lower, caressing Jisung's hair, "but I'll try to cut it out, okay? Sorry, jagi."

Jisung opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a chorus of groans, retching sounds, kiss noises and a very tired "get a room!"

When Jisung gets back to his feet, Minho slaps him in the ass.

Yeah, sure, they're fine.

(But now Jisung kind of wishes Minho pranks him more often…)

The door to Minho's room cracks open. Jisung peeks inside. "Good morning, Minho-yah."

Minho grunts, covering his face with his hands. "Ugh, no. Five more minutes."

"I already gave you ten, you know," Jisung giggles. Minho blinks half-lidded eyes at him.

"Bring that ass over here." He gestures. Jisung rolls his eyes, but obliges, stepping inside the room and moving closer to Minho, who doesn't hesitate before palming at Jisung's butt. He hums. "Good."

"You're a pervert," Jisung complains, but makes no move to get away. Minho swats the air, trying to get to the other cheek, but finds himself unable to reach it without getting up — which is something he's not going to do.

"Come closer," he slurs.

Jisung grins. He steps back, staring at Minho's furrowed brows, and climbs onto the bed, throwing one leg over Minho's hips and sitting down on his lap. Minho gasps, hands hovering on each side of Jisung's naked waist, eyes traveling up and down Jisung's body.

"Is this close enough, pervert?" Jisung singsongs, giggling. Minho gulps, nodding, and molds his palms to Jisung's waist.

"I'm the pervert?" Minho raises one eyebrow, but doesn't look up at Jisung's face. Jisung belatedly realizes he's half naked in Minho's lap and—and Minho is touching him skin to skin.

Jisung shudders, letting out a breath. Minho finally gazes upwards, catching Jisung's eyes; he smiles, soft, sleepy, gentle, fingers tracing goosebumps on Jisung's back and scratching lightly at Jisung's pecs. Jisung arches into the touch, sighing, and both of his hands rest on Minho's chest for support.

Minho is… mesmerized is too strong a word, perhaps too early in the morning for it, but he's certainly appreciative, licking his lips and running eyes and hands over every expanse of Jisung's golden skin, from the muscles of his shoulders down to the flex of his thighs. Jisung groans softly, overwhelmed by the attention. Minho lets out a breathy laugh.

"Han Jisung, are you hard?" he asks, a delicate sound against the quiet room, taunting but so, so gentle. Jisung rolls his eyes.

"You're touching me like I'm some sort of doll, of course I'm gonna—"

Minho only smirks, running his knuckles over the tent in Jisung's boxers. Jisung has half a mind to complain, but his heart skips a beat, words sealed to the back of his throat as his mouth parts with a shaky moan. "Remind me again about that thing you said three days ago? About this not even happening again?"

"S-shut up," Jisung mumbles, doing everything in his power to keep from moving his hips, wanting, needing more friction. "'s not like—like I wanna be here or something."

"Oh, so I'm forcing you to?" Minho arches his eyebrows. He puts both hands in the air, offering a truce. "Go on, then. Leave."

Jisung blinks. Oh, no, suddenly his legs are glued to Minho's bed! Suddenly his body weighs a hundred, no, a thousand tonnes! Suddenly he can't move, left paralyzed and out of breath, hands instinctively grabbing at Minho's chest. Minho smiles.

"What is it? Realized you can't do anything on your own?" Minho mocks, both palms gliding up Jisung's legs. His thumbs rub on Jisung's hip bones. "You need hyung to get off, isn't that right?"

That tone, fuck. Jisung is embarrassed for being teased and even more embarrassed for enjoying being teased. He whines, bouncing his leg, and Minho snickers, putting a hand on Jisung's thigh to keep him from moving. "You're annoying."

"You love it. Plus, I made you a promise. I owe you one."

Jisung exhales, staring into Minho's eyes. Something twitches underneath Jisung's butt; it finally dawns on him that he's sat in Minho's lap — on top of his dick. For some reason, the thought spurs Jisung into action, tentatively moving his hips back and letting his weight fall, and Minho gasps, widening his eyes and tightening his grip on Jisung's legs.

A smirk spreads on Jisung's lips. God, he's been waiting for this the entire month. He can't believe he'll finally get to say, "Lee Minho, are you—"

Jisung doesn't say it; Minho beats him to it and wraps a hand around his cock, effectively forcing Jisung to interrupt himself with a moan. Jisung doesn't particularly mind at the moment: even over his boxers, the feeling of Minho's palm curled around his cock is heavenly, and Jisung can't help but thrust up into it, rubbing his ass on Minho's lap at the same time. Minho bites his lower lip and closes one eye, trying to hold back a noise.

"Take—" Minho whispers, hooking his fingers under Jisung's boxers, "take those off."

"Pervert," Jisung bites, but obliges, raising on his knees to slide his underwear down.

Before he can sit back, Minho holds a hand up to tell him to wait… then shoves it down his pants, fumbling with his own cock for a bit before bringing it back to Jisung's hips and encouraging him to sit. And Jisung feels; feels the outline of Minho's cock, hard, hot and thick, pulsing under the layer of fabric, pressing on Jisung's butt. Minho groans, tensing as the full weight and warmth of Jisung's body settles above him.

"Do you think you'll need lube this time?" Minho asks, voice strained and quiet, lips curved into a sly smile. Jisung shrugs, holding onto Minho's chest for support.

"Hyung, I'm celibate. I'll probably last, like, two minutes," he mutters. Minho chuckles. He turns to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging around until he finds the lube.

"Wouldn't want your dick chaffed when we're practicing," he says, uncapping the tube.

Jisung wants to laugh, to call Minho an annoying pervert, to roll his eyes and cross his arms, but Minho's lubed hand is wrapping around Jisung's cock and everything dissolves inside Jisung's brain. He rolls his eyes into his skull, whining, hips twitching, and stares down at his dick, disappearing in between Minho's fingers. He hunches over, chin meeting his chest; Jisung's stomach tenses, chest puffing, throat bobbing, "ah, hyunnng."

Minho rubs his thumb on the underside of Jisung's head, gliding back and forth on the small circumcision scar. His free hand travels up Jisung's thigh, squeezing and scratching with blunt nails, climbing to outline the chisel of his abs, brush and pinch his nipples, run the tips of his fingers up Jisung's neck to cup his face. Jisung half-lids his eyes and meets Minho's gaze.

It's not too early anymore; Minho is nothing short of mesmerized. His eyes can't stay focused on Jisung's, instead racing all over Jisung's body, back and forth, up and down, tongue and teeth poking at Minho's bottom lip insistently. His palm can't get enough, finding every inch of exposed skin, trying to memorize every last one of Jisung's pores. Jisung breathes; he straightens his back, looking at Minho from above; the feel-good hormones are all flaring off, boiling in his veins and electrifying his senses.

"Enjoying the view, hyung?" Jisung tilts his head, smirking.

That breaks Minho's immersion. Minho's eyes don't soften; he chuckles through his nose, looking up at Jisung. "You little shit."

Jisung slides both of his palms down Minho's chest, messing with his shirt, brings them behind himself and holds onto Minho's knees. Never breaking eye contact, Jisung thrusts into Minho's fist, sliding his cock against Minho's palm and pressing his ass on Minho's cock. Minho gasps, freezing in both shock and pleasure for a moment.

And Jisung… wants more of that.

He uses Minho's knees as leverage and repeats his motion, more focused on humping Minho's dick than anything else, already addicted to the feeling of Minho's cock twitching in between his cheeks, wondering how it would feel if Minho wasn't an annoying son of a bitch and had removed his pants. Fuck, Jisung wants to see it, to touch it, to taste it, to fuck himself with it, to—

"F-fuck, jagi," Minho hisses, hand tight around Jisung's cock, pumping up and down, trying to match Jisung's own messy rhythm. Ah, the sound goes straight to Jisung's ego; nevermind that he's on Minho's lap, grinding his ass down and whining high in his throat — he made Minho curse and call him jagi and he's gonna ride that high.

"Is it good, baby?" Jisung purrs, fluttering his eyes open to stare at Minho. Minho doesn't falter; he nods, unashamed, smirking and throwing his head back, exposing the long column of his neck, the wobble of his Adam's apple, the veins thickened on the sides. Jisung's heart threatens to tear his chest open. "Shit, hyung. Yeah? Gonna—gonna cum for me?"

Minho chuckles. "I should be the one asking that." Minho plants his feet on the bed and thrusts up to meet Jisung's movements. Jisung gasps, widening his eyes. Minho quickens his pace on Jisung's cock. "Are you gonna cum for me, jagi? Make a mess for hyung to see?"

Jisung quivers. He bites his lip, choking on a high-pitched moan. Every fiber of his body is lit aflame, hypersensitive and scalding, a hazard for combustion at any moment. Still, Jisung tries to fight it, "n-not until—you do too—"

Minho tsks, squeezing his thigh. "I don't think so. I think you'll put on a show and cum all over yourself for me. In three, two, one…"

It takes an extra few seconds for Jisung to actually cum, but the thought of being trained to orgasm on Minho's command does something to Jisung's brain chemistry. He shakes, spilling on Minho's hand and his own stomach, barely muffling a sob with his hand before it overtakes the entire room. Minho keeps jerking him through it, until Jisung has to grab his wrist and force him to stop — Minho still circles a thumb around the head, just to be a menace.

Jisung exhales, flopping next to Minho on the bed. And just… laughs. Sated, happy, and sleepy; he could spend the rest of the morning right here, curled up besides Minho.

But the first rule of being a gentleman floats to the front of his mind this time. Jisung opens his eyes and mutters, "hyung, can I touch you?"

Minho shakes his head, sitting up. "We're already late," he says, putting on his slippers and running out of the room. "Go get ready!"

Jisung blinks; he extends an arm to reach for Minho's phone, checks the time, and…

Jisung rolls out of bed and runs to the shower. Fuck, Chan's going to kill them.

Chan doesn't kill them. But he does complain and wail about how he stayed up so late yesterday at the studio and how he still showed up on time because he cares and stuff, which is arguably worse. Jisung and Minho apologize and kneel down to bow to him, and that makes the others kneel and bow as well, giggling like little kids, and Chan groans and tells them to get up and all is resolved.

"What even made you come in so late?" Chan asks, hands in his hips like an angry parent.

Jisung and Minho exchange glances. "We, uh…"

"Got distracted," Minho finishes. "With… house chores."

Chan squints, but decides practice is more important and drops the topic, clapping to finally begin the day.

The clock is marking 20:13 when they finally end for the day. Groans, cries, sighs and a myriad of other sounds echo throughout the practice room, with bodies throwing themselves to the ground and limbs being splayed everywhere. Chan hovers over the pile of tired people, snickering. "Get up. We have a dinner to attend."

Seungmin sits up. "Dibs on the last booth."

"No, c'mon, leave that to the elders!" Changbin complains.

"It's my birthday," Seungmin grins, getting up and running to the showers. Changbin goes after him, yelling no, it's not!.

The members take turns either occupying a booth or sharing a shower head. It's a quick, mechanic motion, just so they don't show up at the restaurant as eight stinky men. Even if the place is fully booked only for them, they still have some reputation to maintain.

Jisung pointedly ignores Minho's inviting gaze and rushes to slide in with Jeongin — who grimaces and shrieks when Jisung puckers his lips at him and makes smooching noises. Someone on the booth next to them laughs.

In a matter of ten to fifteen minutes, all eight are boarding the van, energized after the showers and excited for the upcoming dinner. They play some game during commute, arriving at the destination quickly. Then they hurry inside, managers shielding them from fans and photographers and onlookers and such.

"All birthday men sit together, please," Chan instructs, guiding each member to a place on the low table.

Jisung sits on the farthest edge, next to Yongbok and in front of Minho. They share a quick smile. Hyunjin sits down next to Minho, then Changbin and Jeongin; from Yongbok, Seungmin and Chan sit as well.

Dinner is as good as it can be. The food tastes incredible, there's a variety of options to choose from, the boys get mildly drunk, sing happy birthday, take lots of pictures — both flattering and embarrassing —, play games and eat cake. It's wonderful; for a couple hours, Jisung allows himself to forget about… everything. About the outside world, about his career, about their upcoming comeback, about the thousands of people who rely on them, about that song he didn't manage to write the lyrics for, about the pressure and anxiety… for a couple hours, Jisung is simply a very lucky guy who managed to gather seven amazing friends to celebrate living another year.

Jisung is chewing on a slice of cake when he feels a soft thing pressing on his knee. He startles, eyeing himself under the table, only to find a socked foot poking him. He looks up and doesn't even pretend to act shocked when he finds Minho smirking.

Jisung retaliates, uncrossing his legs to poke at Minho's calf with his toe. Minho snorts, digging his toes into Jisung's knee, and Jisung presses his sole to Minho's thigh, trying to pry his leg away.

And Minho does stop. Except, he goes still, widening his eyes just a bit. Jisung catches his expression, frowning. Takes another bite of his cake. Eats, rubbing his toes on the inside of Minho's thigh, seam tickling his foot, and it suddenly clicks.

Of course. It's been nineteen days and Minho hasn't masturbated; he gave Jisung three orgasms and had none for himself. Of course, he's pent up! Brushing against his thigh surely is enough to rise the hairs on his nape.

And Jisung is going to be so normal about it. He's going to be on his best behavior.

Jisung swallows down his cake, lips smeared with frosting and stretched into a smile. Jisung scoots closer to the table, so he can reach Minho better, elbows resting on the table and face focused into Minho's reaction as his foot slides up Minho's thigh. Minho gasps, turning his face away, the flush on his ears and neck deepening, but doesn't move away.

Which could mean nothing. But it could also mean…

Jisung lets his foot rest on the junction between Minho's leg and his crotch. Stares, intently, birthday party long forgotten, and looks for any signs of discomfort. Minho glares at him, brows furrowed.

…but puts a hand under the table, fingers wrapping around Jisung's ankle to caress the skin above his sock.

Jisung shudders. He can't believe it; he's a little drunk, but not enough to hallucinate, not enough to get things crossed. Minho certainly isn't pulling away.

But maybe Jisung is drunk enough to lower his inhibitions, though, because there's little to no hesitation on his part to drag his foot to in between Minho's legs, sole pressing on the fly of Minho's jeans. Minho tenses up, fingers tightening on Jisung's ankle.

Their eyes remain locked. Jisung is sure his current expression isn't hiding anything, but he can't—can't control himself. Can't believe what's going on. Jisung wiggles his foot in Minho's hold, feeling Minho's cock stir to life under his heel. Quietly, under his breath, so no one can hear, Jisung sees Minho mouthing, "fuck."

Yeah. Fuck.

Adrenaline crashes down on Jisung's stomach. He's on a power trip; he can't fathom how this is currently happening. They're surrounded by their members and staff, with dirty dishes piled all over the table, chatter and laughter hitting from left and right, and Jisung has the arch of his foot nudged against Minho's cock.

Minho. Lee Minho. The Lee Know, singer and dancer extraordinaire, Gucci cover boy, worshiped and adored all over the world. And Jisung has him squirming under his foot.

This is Jisung's birthday gift.

Minho covers his face with his other hand, closing his eyes and turning away from the members. From this angle, only Jisung can see him; can see when Minho sighs, bites his lip, draws his shoulders up; can see the sweat sliding down his temple, the way his chest is puffing up and down, his fingers flexing against his hair, veins bulging on the back of his hand. Only Jisung can see the desire radiating from Minho, hot and on edge with Jisung's foot on his lap.

"Minho?" Chan calls. Jisung jumps, and he feels Minho's cock twitch. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," Minho mutters, looking at the others briefly, "just tired."

"Ah, today has been so busy," Hyunjin says, stretching his arms and cracking his back. Changbin pokes him in the ribs. Hyunjin pouts at him.

"We should start heading back." Chan gestures to one of the waiters. "Last round of shots?"

Everybody cheers. Minho shoves Jisung's foot away and Jisung crosses his legs, ignoring how his hands are trembling over the table.

By the time they finally leave the restaurant, Minho is already back to normal — i.e., without an erection tenting his pants. They all slide into the van; there's low murmurs, some yawns and sighs, and then there's Jisung and Minho on the back, wide-eyed and fully speechless.

"Thanks for today, guys. Love you all," Jisung says as he's exiting the van. Minho simply grunts as goodbye and they both scurry to their apartment.

Minho unlocks the door and enters. Jisung follows him, slides off his shoes and locks the door. Before Minho can get too far, Jisung grabs him by the shoulders and presses him to the nearest wall, forcing a gasp out of Minho's throat.

"Hyung," Jisung pleads, high and needy, "fuck, please? Let me touch you? Please?"

Minho blinks rapidly, eyes doubled in size. "Jisung, you're dru—"

"'m sober. I swear. Please, I'm gonna go insane." Jisung breathes. His grip tightens, pulling on the collar of Minho's jacket.

Jisung sees it all flashing on Minho's face — in the glint of his eyes. How he wants to poke fun at Jisung's desperation, to tease Jisung, to smirk and tilt his face like a cat and say "oh? Playing footsie wasn't enough?" or something stupid like that, but—

He can't. He can't, and he knows he can't, just like Jisung knows. He can't, because, for once, he doesn't have the upper hand, doesn't have anything to shield himself. He can't; his desire is out in the open, pulsing and begging for attention under Jisung's scrutiny.

Minho exhales. "Are you sure?"

Jisung nods franticly.

Minho looks into Jisung's eyes. It's dark; they left all of the lights off when they went out in the morning and didn't make it far enough into the apartment to turn any light on. The moon is on its first quarter, softly peeking from behind the curtains left open in the living room; the street lamps cast cold white into the apartment. The shadows on Minho's face are attenuated, contrasting with the glint in his eyes.

Minho fumbles with his belt, unbuckling it with shaky hands, and Jisung gasps when he hears the sound. It's happening, it's finally happening. Jisung leans into Minho's space and mouths at his neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses over Minho's quickening pulse; Minho sighs, thumping his head on the wall behind him.

"Jisung-ah," he whispers, and Jisung shivers. Minho's belt is unfastened and his jeans have slid down a bit, exposing the hem of his boxers. Jisung sucks a tad too harshly on the side of Minho's Adam's apple. "Don't leave marks, asshole."

"Sorry," Jisung slurs. He leans his head on Minho's shoulder, taking a deep inhale and closing his eyes to relish on the faint smell of Minho's cologne, mixed with sweat and booze. It should be the opposite of comforting, and yet… Jisung's eyelids get heavier.

"Are you—" Minho snorts. Jisung is pulled back by his shoulders, head hanging to the side. He blinks; his knees barely manage to keep him upright. "You're sleeping on your feet, you little shit."

"'m fine," Jisung mutters, yawning. "Lemme—"

"No. C'mon." Minho quickly redoes his belt and wraps an arm around Jisung's waist. "Off to bed you go."

Jisung is already out by the time his back hits the mattress.

He dreams of Minho pressed up against the wall, belt unbuckled and jeans open, both hands on Jisung's hair as Jisung chokes on Minho's cock. Jisung smiles while he sleeps; ah, maybe someday he can make it come true…

[09/19 23:54] Seo Changbin: well last time my bravery wasn't well received in this group

but trust me when i say this

i am being. so. so brave.

[09/19 23:57] Yongbok: why do i have a feeling this has smth to do with a certain hyunjin

[09/20 00:11] Hwang Hyunjin: i have no idea what you're talking about 😇

[09/20 01:02] CB97: Changbin can you lose already

Jeongin just said "good night, pervert" to me

[09/20 05:24] Seo Changbin: DESERVED

[09/20 06:32] Kim Seungmo: DESERVED

[09/20 06:41] Ayen: sorry hyung~~~ 😊

When you're a superstar getting ready for a comeback while also participating in a challenge of not jerking off for a month despite your roommate's best efforts and said roommate happens to be a hot guy who you kind of have a monumental decade-long crush and can't stop thinking about, the days tend to pass by very quickly.

Jisung thinks about the month so far while he's in the shower. So much happened, it feels insane to think it isn't even done yet. A stupid internet challenge shook all the members from one end to the other… and yet, nothing has changed: they're still eight hardworking dudes who are living the dream, ups and downs included.

(Well. Maybe not this month, but.)

It's day 25 — a Friday. There's less than a week remaining in September, which means less than a week in masturbation jail.

The MinSung household is following the night protocol: Jisung is in decision paralysis, trying to pick an anime, while Minho reads next to him on the couch. There's a bowl with snacks on the center table, but both of them are still full from dinner, so it's simply sitting there for when they inevitably spend so long there they get hungry again.

Minho flips a page. "Just put on whatever. Use the random button or something."

Jisung obliges. A romcom starts; it's not what Jisung had in mind, but, what the hell, sure. Jisung slumps back on the couch and relaxes. Minho glances to the TV, but decides to focus on his book.

For fifteen minutes, the living room is filled with the dialogue from the anime and the flipping of pages. Jisung breathes, mildly paying attention, allowing for his mind to go into stand by. He's on the verge of dozing off when Minho breaks the silence, "how's your song going?"

"Ah, I kinda gave up on it," Jisung answers, scrubbing his eye to get rid of the residual sleepiness, "I couldn't figure out what the lyrics should be."

"But you did write down a few things, though, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Jisung shrugs. He had admitted defeat against the blinking cursor. "I wanted to sing about something, uh, you know, happy, for once. But," he giggles, "even though I'm good now, it feels like the words just don't come to me."

Minho nods. He flips a page. "What has been making you happy lately?"

Jisung frowns. Lately… there are the default things: talking to his mother on the phone at night, making music with Chan and Changbin, practicing with the members, looking at Stay's comments on social media — but not too much, he's taking care of himself —, working on their comeback; then there are the big things: the sponsorships, the possibilities, the behind the scenes talks about tours and events; then, the small things: the smell of coffee when Minho wakes up first, the birds that perch on the window to sing, the tight warmth of hugs from all of his members when he needs to recharge, the nights spent just like this, sprawled on the couch with Minho and talking about whatever.

"So much," he mumbles, deep in thought. Minho hums. "Really, there's… a lot of things."

"But if you had to narrow it down to one or two?"

One is obviously Stray Kids. Jisung doesn't even have to think about it. The other, though…

The scent of chocolate mixed with Minho's books. The delicious cake that Minho baked for him on his birthday. The stupid laugh Minho lets out when he almost gets Jisung to lose No Fap. The way Minho's body seems to mold under Jisung's palms. The glint in Minho's eyes.

Lately, there has been a lot of Minho making Jisung happy. This month, especially, even though Jisung wanted to kill him most of the time, Minho has also given him plenty of reasons to smile.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jisung grins. "Minho-yah, you and the others make me really happy."

"Me and the others?" Minho arches an eyebrow, staring at Jisung over the cover of his book. Jisung chuckles.

"You more than the others," he says, partly to inflate Minho's ego, partly because it's the truth. Minho nods.

"Good to know." Minho puts his nose back into his book. "If I really make you happy, then you should at least do me a favor."

"What do you want?"

"Jerk off already. The month is almost over."

Jisung sits up. "W-what—" he babbles, torn between shocked, annoyed and amused, "I—we were having a moment, you son of a bitch! Ugh, you ruined it!"

Minho giggles, shoulders shaking and eyes squinting, and Jisung exaggerates a sigh, slapping Minho's arm.

"You're terrible, you know that, right?" Jisung says, poking Minho's cheek. Minho turns to look at him and threatens to bite Jisung's finger.

"But I make you happy," Minho smirks, too confident for his own good, "and I made you cum three times."

Jisung blushes. "That—that has nothing to do with our current conversation."

"It has now. I've been meaning to ask you something." Minho saves his page with a bookmark and sets the book aside. He turns his whole body to look at Jisung properly. "That time, at the beginning of the month. We were sitting here, in this exact same position, and I, uh… I told you to jerk off for me."

Jisung blinks. Oh, okay. They're going there. "Huh."

"I mean, I might have imagined things, but," Minho looks up at Jisung, then averts his eyes, "you looked like… like you were really going to do it."

Warmth pools under Jisung's collar. It's a chilly day, hence why he's wearing a shirt inside; if he knew they'd be having a heart-to-heart on the couch, Jisung would've opted for his usual half-naked attire. "Huh."

"If you weren't in the challenge…" Minho bites his finger, finally meeting Jisung's eyes again. "Would you?"

"H-huh?" Jisung mumbles. He's acting stupid; he knows what Minho means, it's just—

"Touch yourself for me. Would you do it?"

Jisung swallows. No, of course not. That's absurd. Even if the answer was yes — which is not —, Jisung would never admit to that out loud. No, it's been years of pushing everything down, of hiding, of telling himself that Minho wasn't interested and that he wasn't good enough and that this stupid crush would eventually end if he just kept his mouth shut— "Probably."

"…Probably?" Minho echoes, a chuckle dying on his lips. A way out. A joke. An offer to put an end to it.

"Definitely."

Minho lets out a shaky breath. His eyes are widened, dark and attentive, glinting under his lashes. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Jisung whispers, "fuck."

Minho runs a hand through his hair, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Jisung himself is not much different, finding he's out of breath when he inhales and barely manages to fill his lungs.

Then, he's talking again, for some reason, "what about you?"

"Hm?"

"If I, y'know," Jisung gestures vaguely in the air, not holding eye contact, "told you to crank the horn—"

"Hog."

"—crank the hog for me, would you?"

Minho takes a moment to consider. Jisung is so chill, he doesn't even care about the answer. He just asked to keep the conversation flowing. This is a very pleasant topic that certainly doesn't make Jisung want to scream and eat concrete.

"Probably," Minho finally says, the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

"Probably?" Jisung looks at him with eyes doubled in size. That's—that's new to him.

"Probably," Minho repeats. Jisung nods.

"Okay. Yeah—" Jisung gulps, pressing his lips into a line, fumbling with his hands on his lap. "Okay. Good to know."

Minho stares at him for five, six seconds before breaking into a fit of giggles. Jisung laughs too, awkward and with no clue on what to do, and Minho licks his lips when their eyes meet again. "Jisung-ah."

"Hm?"

"Come here."

Jisung fidgets. He obliges, scooting closer, until their knees are almost touching. Minho clicks his tongue, shaking his head, and pats his inner thigh.

"Come here."

Before he can think twice, Jisung climbs onto Minho's lap, thighs bracing each side of Minho's hips as he hovers over Minho, hands reaching for the cushion behind Minho's head. Minho puts a palm on Jisung's leg and pushes down slightly, just enough for Jisung to get the memo and sit on Minho's thighs. The contact is hot, two bodies flushed together and running on nerves and pent-up frustration, trembling, hesitating, but so, so desired.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Minho whispers, so quietly that Jisung almost doesn't hear him over the blood ringing in his ears. Minho tangles his fingers on Jisung's hair, caressing the fine hairs on his nape.

"About what?" Jisung asks, voice lower, as if speaking too loudly could pull them apart.

"About you," Minho breathes, "touching yourself for me. Fuck, I want it. I want it so bad."

Jisung shivers from head to toe. He closes his eyes, leans into Minho's touch, grasps the cushions a bit tighter. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, jagi. I want to watch it so bad. See you pleasuring yourself," Minho mutters, scratching Jisung's scalp. "I mean it. This is not some… some trick to get you to lose."

"You promise?" Jisung half-opens his eyes. Minho is smiling up at him.

"I do. Can I prove it to you?"

Jisung nods, completely melted on Minho's lap. Minho reaches for Jisung's right hand, grabbing his wrist and bringing it closer, until Minho can brush his lips on Jisung's knuckles. Jisung exhales, saving the scene forever in his brain — on a folder neatly titled ahskgdk, which means, things I'd rather die than forget.

"I'll let you do something you've been wanting to do for a while," Minho says, guiding Jisung's palm to rest on Minho's chest. Minho encourages Jisung to trace a path down, down, down, until his hand stops on the bulge in between Minho's legs. Jisung gasps, staring at Minho's erection trapped in his pants and under Jisung's grip.

Oh, god. It's finally happening. Jisung inhales, looks up into Minho's eyes, smirks like a smug little shit and says with his full chest, "Lee Minho, are you ha—"

Lips are pressing into Jisung's mouth before he can finish his sentence. Jisung groans, leaning back in shock, but Minho tightens his grip on Jisung's nape to still him in place, and Jisung melts into it. He groans again, but now out of pure pleasure, tangling his left hand on Minho's hair while his right one pushes against Minho's cock. Minho moans, twitching under Jisung's palm.

"Sorry," Minho breathes out, air ghosting over Jisung's wet lips, "couldn't help myself. You were saying?"

Jisung lunges into Minho's lips, making Minho fall back against the cushions. Minho laughs in the middle of the kiss. Jisung licks his teeth, giggling, and mutters, "asshole," before mashing their mouths together again.

"You shouldn't call me an asshole when you have your hand on my dick," Minho bickers, chuckling as Jisung peppers kisses all over his chin and the corner of his lips.

"I can take it out," Jisung says, but keeps his hand right there, fingers dancing over the growing bulge.

Minho puts both hands on Jisung's ass, squeezing as he brings Jisung closer. Jisung bites his bottom lip, pulling Minho's hair on instinct, forcing Minho's head back, exposing the long line of his neck. Jisung dives right in, licking and kissing every inch of skin he finds. Minho hums, leaning his head to the side to give Jisung more access, while covertly sneaking his fingers under the elastic of Jisung's boxers to grab at his ass directly. Jisung closes his hand around Minho's cock; both of them whine.

"You know," Jisung mutters, voice muffled against Minho's neck, "kinda crazy that you made me cum three times and I haven't even seen your dick yet."

Minho laughs under his breath. "Do you want to see it?"

"Yes!" Jisung sits up, eyes widened, "yes, I really wanna see it."

"Is that so?" Minho smirks. Jisung internally screams — or at least he hopes it's internal, he can't feel his body anymore, too feverish and too far gone. "Well, I was going to pull it out, but now that I know you wanna see it, I kind of don't want to take off my pants anymore."

"What? Hyung," Jisung groans, rolling his eyes, "you can't be serious."

"I can. And I am." Minho pinches Jisung's puffed cheek. Jisung swats his hand away. "But that doesn't mean you can't touch me."

Jisung has been dying to do it. Truth be told, Jisung doesn't care if they focus solely on Minho tonight; finds it fair, since Minho has made Jisung feel good before and never asked for payback. He wants to touch Minho's dick so bad.

"What makes you think I want to touch you?"

But Jisung is a brat first, and a man of needs second.

"Oh? Did you forget about your little scene on the corridor last week?" Minho tilts his head. "You begged me to touch me. Said you were going insane."

"I was drunk—"

"You weren't. You said you were sober. And," Minho caresses Jisung's cheek bone, "you only had two shots. No hangover the following day. But enough liquid courage to press your foot on my lap, hm? So desperate you couldn't wait till we got back home."

Jisung blinks rapidly, feeling his entire body getting incredibly warm. He chokes out a laugh, looking elsewhere, and scratches at his neck. "I was just—t-teasing you. Also, like, you were the one who—who started it."

"I had no idea you were gonna take it that far," Minho squints, ears flushing crimson. "You're a pervert."

"Look who's talking," Jisung pouts. Minho stares at his lips, smirk never vanishing. "You had me cock and balls out that one time just to get me to lose!"

Minho giggles. "Ah, that was so close. I swore you'd actually do it."

"You wish."

"Well, yeah. That's—" Minho puts his palms back on Jisung's butt, squeezing, making him arch into it. "That's why we're here."

"You want me so bad it makes you look stupid." Jisung pokes his tongue out. Minho rolls his eyes.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

They're kissing before Jisung can think of a snarky comment. Not that he minds; he's quickly learning that few things are better than making out with Lee Minho.

One of these things being making out with Lee Minho while Lee Minho's very hard cock twitches under his palm. Jisung finally gives them both what they want and wraps his fingers properly on Minho's length, thumb running on the outline imprinted onto Minho's sweatpants. Minho bites Jisung's lower lip and sighs.

"Let me help you," Minho whispers, putting a hand under his pants to adjust his cock, pulling it upwards so the sensitive underside is pressed closer to Jisung's palm. The head peeks from under the waistband, red and wet; Jisung almost shrieks. Minho notices, but doesn't mind, instead bringing a hand to caress Jisung's sweaty hair. "All yours, jagi."

Let it be known that Jisung is a strong man for not fainting instantly; truly, he pats himself on the back for not screaming and flapping his hands in the air. He does, however, let out a pathetic little mewl, but he presses his lips to Minho's before Minho can make fun of him.

Jisung curls his hand around Minho's cock as much as the fabric allows him to. Minho's dick is hot to the touch, melting on Jisung's palm, pulsing as Jisung begins moving his wrist. If Jisung really focuses on it, he can feel the thick vein that runs on the underside and dies at the tip; but it's hard to focus when Minho has one hand tangled in Jisung's hair and the other palming at his ass, breathing and groaning under his breath.

"Ah, jagi-yah…" Minho lets his head hit the cushions behind him, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm—not gonna last."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna make a mess for me?" Jisung mumbles, lips brushing on Minho's neck. He feels more than hears when Minho chuckles.

"Don't use my words against me," he teases, "you're a lyricist. Make up your own dirty talk, little shit."

"Hey, that's just mean. You know I've been struggling with—"

Minho lets out a dragged-out aaah, which shuts up Jisung in record time. Jisung lifts his face to stare at Minho's blissed expression, eyes clamped shut, mouth parted and front teeth peeking behind his upper lip, throat working out little sighs and moans, sweat dripping from his temples and forehead. Minho's cock twitches, leaving a wet trail of precum where the head is pressed against the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Ah, Jisungie," Minho calls, half-opening his eyes to look up at Jisung. Jisung waits for another mocking comment, a joke, perhaps something about how Jisung's own cock is straining his boxers, but Minho simply whispers, "don't stop."

Tingles run all over Jisung's pores. His mind goes blank, hand quickening on its own accord around Minho's cock. "I got you, hyung. Feels good, yeah?"

Minho nods, biting his lips. He arches his eyebrows, grabbing onto Jisung's nape to mash their mouths together, tongues rubbing messily against one another, muffling Minho's crescendo of moans. Jisung keeps jerking his wrist up and down, until Minho holds him and exhales against his face.

Jisung looks down; there's a mess of cum splattered on Minho's shirt. Jisung licks his lips, savoring the sight: Minho melted on their couch, out of breath and red-faced, with one hand on Jisung's nape and the other nested on Jisung's butt, shirt glued to his chest, dick peeking out from under his pants and cum drying on his stomach. Jisung makes another addition to the ahskgdk mental folder.

Minho laughs, still riding the high, and pulls Jisung into another kiss, languid and soft now that the edge has been tipped. Jisung hums, wrapping both arms around Minho's neck. They sigh into each other's mouths.

"What about you?" Minho mutters. Jisung shrugs.

"Leave it. I'm fine."

"I have an idea." Minho smiles, running his hand down Jisung's side. Jisung arches into it.

"Yeah?"

Minho grabs one of Jisung's hands, kissing the back of it. Jisung exhales; fuck, whatever is in Minho's mind now, Jisung will probably say yes. Jisung would agree to anything Minho said when he's acting like this—

Minho guides Jisung's hand to in between their bodies, making Jisung's fingers rub against his own erection. Jisung sighs, eyes fluttering shut; Minho presses further, encouraging Jisung to wrap a hand around himself, fingers slowly expanding and retracting on the underside of his cock.

Jisung's eyes shoot open. "S-son of a bitch!"

Jisung jumps out of Minho's lap, stumbling on his feet, trying to run to his room while Minho cackles like a witch. "Jisungie!"

Minho grabs Jisung's waist from behind, still laughing. "You're the worst!"

"C'mon," Minho mumbles, kissing behind Jisung's ear. Jisung, against his better judgment, shivers. "Sleep with me?"

Jisung rolls his eyes and groans. "Needy. Fine."

When Minho slips into bed, fresh out of the shower, smelling like soap and home, Jisung forgets how annoying his hyung can be.

A shrilling noise yanks Jisung and Minho out of slumber land. Jisung yells, cursing, barely escaping an elbow to the ribs when Minho shoots his eyes open and jumps. It takes them a few seconds to recognize what it is: Minho's phone.

Jisung groans while Minho clambers over him to turn the offending sound off. "Fuck you, why did you leave this thing on? We literally have the day off today."

"I forgot about it, asshole," Minho bites back, rubbing his eyes. Jisung yawns and hides his face in the pillow.

"Ugh, now I gotta piss."

Jisung waits for a joke that never comes. Perhaps it's still too early for Minho to… think, basically. So Jisung rolls out of bed, yawns again, and heads for the bathroom; he splashes his face and brushes his teeth as well, for good measure.

Jisung is debating whether he should go to the kitchen to get breakfast started when Minho calls, "Jisung-ah!"

"Eh?"

"Come back here."

Jisung chuckles. He turns on his heels, already smirking, "ah, you're soooo needy, hyu—"

The image that greets Jisung is not a dark room, with sheets and blankets tangled on the bed and a body curled up underneath the fabric mess. No, Minho has pulled the curtains open: not all the way, but enough to let the sunlight peek inside, bathing the room with golden warmth. The blankets are thrown on the floor and the sheets are nicely spread over the mattress.

And Minho is sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread and both arms behind him to support his body weight, hair falling over his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips. And he's shirtless.

Jisung freezes on the spot, eyes bulging out of its sockets. He takes in the sight; admires how the sun caresses Minho's body, outlining the curves of his pecs, the milky tint of his skin, the scar on his stomach that he feels too self conscious to let others see…

Minho waits until Jisung looks him in the eyes. Then, softly, nodding to the bed, "come here. Lay down."

Jisung bites his lower lip. He puts a strand of hair behind his ear, acting coy, kicking his feet as he approaches the bed. Minho breaks the sexyman pose to let out a giggle.

Jisung puts one knee on the bed, holding eye contact with Minho. He uses Minho's shoulders as leverage to climb onto his lap, gaze dropping to Minho's lips, but Minho lays a hand on Jisung's chest and clicks his tongue, tilting his head in the direction of the pillows. "Lay down."

And who is Jisung to deny him anything, really? He pouts, but obliges and lets his body fall onto the mattress, getting comfortable on his back.

"I believe I owe you," Minho says, hovering over Jisung, with one knee on each side of Jisung's hips, "for yesterday."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, you do. You're the worst."

"And you love it." Minho sneaks his hands under Jisung's shirt; he doesn't need to get too far for Jisung to get the idea and pull it up and off.

Jisung hooks his thumbs under his underwear and looks up. "These too?"

Minho blinks and arches his eyebrows, a bit taken aback. His expression dissolves into a chuckle. "Yeah, jagi. These too."

His boxers find the same fate of his shirt — discarded on the floor. Jisung's cock is still soft, not really expecting any action so early, but, hey, no one is complaining.

Minho sighs, eyes roaming over Jisung's exposed form, pliant and vulnerable, hot to the touch and glowing under the sunlight. Jisung wraps his hands on Minho's nape and pulls him down into a kiss; Jisung smiles when Minho breathes fresh mint against his lips.

Minho doesn't linger on Jisung's mouth, instead moving to kiss Jisung's chin, jaw and neck, pressing kisses above Jisung's pulse. Minho slides his hands over Jisung's sides, outlining the Resplendent Life with his fingers and the Blessed with his tongue, smiling as Jisung's pores bristle under his attention. Jisung sighs, hands messing with Minho's hair as Minho messes with Jisung's sanity.

Minho easily latches onto a hardened nipple, using his tongue to play with it. Jisung arches into the touch, legs squirming instinctively, a quiet "ah, hyung," escaping his throat. Minho blows air on the wet skin, laughing when Jisung jumps, before coursing his lips down Jisung's chest and stomach; he takes his time, in no rush to decorate Jisung's skin with kisses and small purplish spots that fade as he licks away, memorizing every inch of Jisung with his lips.

Not taking his mouth away, Minho mutters, "have you used your present already?"

It takes a moment for Jisung to organize his thoughts. When he does, he squints. "W-wha—you know I haven't."

"Is that so?" Minho smiles, resting his chin on Jisung's stomach to look up at his face. "Should we give it a try?"

Jisung swallows. He has thought about it; technically, it's not against the rules to achieve pleasure with a toy if it's someone else controlling it. And Jisung is dying of curiosity — he's dying to know how it feels to have something vibrating inside of him, what the different modes feel like, if the stretch will be thicker than when he uses his fingers…

Adding Minho to the equation only makes it better: he wants to give Minho the controller and allow him to be a menace, wants to test how far away the controller can reach, wants to see if he can keep from squirming with a toy nudging his prostate repeatedly. Jisung is dying to give it a try.

Except, "I don't trust you."

Minho's eyebrows go up to his hairline. "Oh?" He frowns. "Ouch?"

"You're—you're gonna do something like—" Jisung gasps for air. "Like give me the controller and tell me I can only cum if I press a button, or, or say that you can't put it in and make me do it instead, or—"

Minho giggles. "Ah, I really did a number on you, didn't I?"

"Yes!" Jisung pouts. "Yes, you did! Son of a bitch! I'm paranoid now!"

"Sorry," Minho singsongs, smiling with all his teeth. "Guess we're moving that to next week, then."

Jisung sighs. Part of him says he's being dramatic, but he can't risk it; he has come too far, through hell and heaven, to protect his glory. He can't let his guard down now. The last days are the ones that really matter. He can survive another week without having a toy up his ass.

"But…" Minho glides a hand down Jisung's thigh, brushing his fingertips on the warm skin. "I can still give you a preview."

"A… preview?" Jisung blinks. He tilts his head, parting his lips, but closes them, unsure of what to say.

Which is hesitation enough to trigger Minho into action. He raises up to his knees, eyes wide and focused on Jisung's face. "I-I mean, you can say no. You know that, right? I'm just—uh—saying… s-stuff."

Minho's round eyes and brows furrowed in worry, one hand plastered on Jisung's waist while the other rubs soothingly at Jisung's knee, awaiting anxiously for Jisung's reaction… It shouldn't be endearing — Jisung's stomach floods with butterflies nevertheless.

"What are you previewing, exactly?" Jisung smiles softly, holding eye contact.

"The—the toy? I, uh—" Minho looks elsewhere. "I wanna finger you."

"Ah." Warmth spreads over Jisung's chest and face, leaving a crimson path under his skin. "Ah. Yeah, uh—" Jisung clears his throat. "Uhm. Yeah, I-I'd like that."

Minho visibly relaxes with a sigh and nods. "Okay. Okay. Let me—" He stretches over Jisung to rummage through his bedside drawer and retrieve the lube. Jisung grabs a pillow and positions it under his hips. "Have you done this before?"

Jisung messes with his hair. "Uh… yeah."

"Huh. So I'm not introducing you to anything new, then." Minho has the nerve to pout. He's squeezing lube onto his fingers and he's pouting. "What a shame."

Jisung wants to punch him. "Well… I've never done it with you, so, technically…"

Minho chuckles, looking up at Jisung. "Sweet talker," he accuses, adjusting his position, so he's comfortably sat on his heels, in between Jisung's thighs. "I'll find something you've never done before."

"I never saw your dick," Jisung says in a heartbeat. "Not when it's hard, at least."

If Jisung sees Minho's ears flushing red — and he does, how could he not? It's impossible to miss, especially when he's staring into Minho's soul —, he opts to stay silent. "That doesn't count," Minho mumbles, pressing his middle finger to Jisung's rim, spreading the lube there. Jisung flinches. "Are you ready?"

"Mhmm." Jisung looks to in between his legs, watching the veins climbing up Minho's forearm. It's distracting enough for him to relax. "Put it in, hyung."

"Fuck, jagi," Minho breathes out, "you can't just say that."

Jisung's gaze climbs upwards. Minho has his stomach tense, chest heaving and flushed, lips kiss-swollen, face wet with sweat, eyes glazed over and dark with raw desire. Jisung doubts he looks much different now. Still, he smirks, "can't I?"

"Only if you want me to go fucking crazy."

The words disappear from Jisung's brain as soon as Minho pushes the tip of his middle finger inside… and keeps pushing up to the last knuckle. Jisung gasps, not expecting the quick intrusion; his thighs flex, muscles bulging under the skin, and Minho uses his free hand to palm at the taunt flesh, thumb digging into the hard lines. Jisung is sure he's the one going crazy.

It's not as much a stretch as it is… weird, but not unpleasant. Jisung squirms, allowing his body to loosen up, breathing deeply and letting his eyes gloss over.

"There you go," Minho murmurs, palm going up and down Jisung's thigh, "taking me so well."

Jisung's half-hard cock twitches. He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. There's a little voice at the back of his head telling him he should bite back, say something to tease Minho, take away the attention from him, lest Minho notices how easy it is — how easy Jisung is for him.

But Minho beats him to it, "want another one, jagi-yah?"

Jisung can only nod eagerly.

Minho hums, leaning down to pepper Jisung's inner thigh with kisses. His left hand rubs on the underside of Jisung's cock, teasing, palming up and down, circling the head with his index finger; his right hand presses against Jisung's ass, middle finger curling inside of him. Jisung arches his back, biting his lip to muffle a whine.

Kisses climb up his leg, until Minho is nosing at his cock, left hand holding it by the base. Minho darts out his tongue and licks up to the tip, chuckling when Jisung's knees buckle and he threatens to close his thighs on instinct. "Don't kill me, you little shit."

"Shut—"

Jisung isn't able to close his mouth quick enough to hold back a moan this time. Minho wraps his lips around Jisung's cock, slides down to the base and swallows, cheeks hollowed and tongue prodding at Jisung's slit. Jisung's eyes roll into his skull, hands grabbing onto the sheets; so distracted by the insistent bobbing of Minho's head that he barely notices a second finger sliding in alongside the first.

Minho slurps obnoxiously as he lets Jisung's dick slip out of his mouth. He grins, flattered and smug, "see how you didn't even feel that? I'm a pro."

"Your hand is just small," Jisung grunts. Also, he's definitely feeling it; it's a good stretch, especially considering it's been a while since he last fingered himself.

A shadow casts on Minho's face. He arches one eyebrow, smile vanishing. "Oh, is that so?"

Minho curls his fingers, grazing dangerously close to Jisung's prostate. Jisung gasps, eyes widening, and shifts his hips to the side, clenching on Minho's fingers. Minho presses down on Jisung's lower stomach to keep him in place and curls his fingers again; this time, he hits the spot dead on. Jisung arches as much as he can, letting out a shocked "ah!"

"Yeah. Ah," Minho mocks, repeating his motion. Jisung's cock jumps, drooling precum over his hip. "Just small, hm?"

"N-no, hyung. Big. So big," Jisung whines, lips curving into a smile, eyes half-open to catch Minho's reaction.

"Little shit," Minho scoffs, but a playful smirk has taken his face. Minho angles his wrist and massages Jisung's prostate repeatedly. Jisung moans, letting his body melt into it. "Does it feel good, jagi?"

"Yes, yes, yes—"

Jisung tenses, grasping the sheets. His dick is red, twitching and wet at the tip, begging for release; Jisung wonders if he can cum like this. He had tried before, to no avail — but maybe Minho can perform a miracle with his two average-sized fingers, especially if he keeps talking.

Jisung half-lids his eyes, staring at Minho's face; he's focused, entranced by the way Jisung's hole swallows his fingers, front teeth chewing on his lower lip. There's sweat dripping down his neck, a few drops leaving trails down his naked chest and dying at the waistband of his pants; Minho's cock is hard, solid and swollen and bulging under the thin fabric.

It's too much. It's not enough. Jisung needs— "hyung."

"Hm?"

"Talk—talk to me."

Minho meets his eyes. His focused expression fades into an easy smile, "of course, jagi-yah. Need hyung's voice to feel good, is that it?"

Jisung clamps his eyes shut, nodding, finding it in himself to be embarrassed — as if he had been doing a good job of pretending like Minho's words don't go directly to his dick till now.

"Want me to tell you about another thing I can't stop thinking about?"

"Y-yeah."

"I want to do exactly this." Minho nudges his fingers back and forth, pressing upwards as he slides inside. Jisung whimpers. "But with my cock."

Jisung's breath gets punched out of his lungs. "Fuck, Minho."

"I want to sit back and let you do all the work." Minho picks up his pace, curling his fingers over and over. Jisung's cock twitches angrily. "Let you fuck yourself on my dick, pleasure yourself, jerk off while you're bouncing on it. Would you like that?"

"F-fuck. Yeah, I'd like that," Jisung whines, "a lot."

"But we'll have to wait, hm? Can you do that for me?"

Jisung lets his thighs fall wider, spine bending to meet Minho's touch. His hands are almost tearing the sheets. He breathes, mind bubbling with pleasure, vision whitening, "yes, hyung."

"There you go, Jisungie," Minho murmurs, using his free hand to caress Jisung's hip and stomach. "Hyung will take such good care of you."

Jisung's eyes are brimmed with tears when he opens them to look up at Minho. "You promise?"

"I do." Minho smiles, wraps his hand around Jisung's cock, and Jisung is done for.

Jisung's whole body trembles, spasming as his orgasm crashes, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over him and making stars explode behind his eyes. His throat bobs, filling the room with little ah, ah, ahs, until he's gasping and sighing wordlessly. He's floating on cloud nine, enveloped by warmth — sunlight, kisses, Minho, home.

When Jisung opens his eyelids, blinking away the tears, he sees Minho staring at him with that glint in his eyes.

"Pretty," Minho mouths, soundless. Jisung's smile stretches from cheek to cheek.

"You think so?" He runs his fingers through his hair, ignoring the raspiness in his voice. Minho chuckles.

"I might be wrong, though," Minho says, leaning over Jisung to peck his lips. "Maybe I'm biased."

"Where's your Han merch, then?"

Minho runs his fingers over Jisung's stomach and collects Jisung's cum. He grins, raising his hand up to Jisung's eye level. "Here."

Jisung actually punches him this time — a weak little push to his shoulder, but still. Minho laughs with his full chest, letting his body fall next to Jisung's, throwing an arm over Jisung's torso to pull him closer.

"Can I confess something?"

Jisung's heart skips a beat. "Go ahead."

"I thought about telling you to jerk off when you were almost cumming. You looked so out of it that I bet you would've done it."

Jisung takes a deep breath. He turns, glaring at Minho as best as he can. "But?"

"But," Minho kisses the tip of Jisung's nose, "you'd be really mad at me."

"And you'd owe me another one, so this whole thing would've been for nothing."

"Ah, that's not an issue." Minho nibbles on Jisung's ear lobe, snickering when Jisung shivers. "I love making you feel good. If it were up to me, we'd spend all day in bed."

Jisung rolls his eyes, ignoring the butterflies taking off in his stomach. "W-who's the sweet talker now?"

Minho smiles. He goes quiet for a moment, observing Jisung's face; Jisung observes back, watching Minho's eyelashes brushing against his cheeks every time he blinks, counting the beauty spots dotted on his skin, following the slow movement of Minho's tongue as it pokes out to wet his lips.

Then, "hey."

Jisung feels an easy laugh forming in the pit of his stomach. "Hey, baby."

Minho's smile grows. He wiggles both eyebrows up and down. "Wanna see my dick?"

Jisung clamps his eyes and lets out a prolonged sigh. "I hate you so fucking much," he groans, and Minho's grip tightens on Jisung's shoulder, "yeah, asshole. I wanna see your dick."

Minho sits up, holding eye contact, still on the verge of bursting out laughing. The sun casts down his frame, adding a golden glow to his chocolate eyes and milky skin; Jisung resists the urge to run his hand down Minho's body — it's Minho's turn to put on a show now.

And put on a show he does. Minho, apparent mind reader, grabs Jisung's hand and puts it over his chest, forcing Jisung to feel how fast his heart is beating. Minho gasps when Jisung rubs a finger on his nipple, bringing Jisung's hand down before he can get too carried away; the dips of his abdomen tense and relax under Jisung's fingertips, goosebumps arising in his flesh wherever Jisung touches. Jisung thumbs over the scar, gently, lightly, with his eyes darting up to see Minho's reaction, and Minho lets him, lips parted and pliant.

Jisung's hand stops at the waistband. Jisung pushes himself up on his elbow, gaze now fully focused on Minho's dick, half-hard under the attention. Minho chuckles. "Don't look so excited."

"I am very excited," Jisung answers, never taking his eyes away. Minho drags the elastic a little down his hips, exposing his pelvic bone. Jisung takes in a sharp breath.

Minho smirks, pausing. Considering. "Close your eyes."

"No," Jisung protests, widening his eyes. He looks up at Minho as if Minho had just shot him. "Hyung, no! C'mon!"

"Close your eyes. And don't peek."

Jisung purses his lips, glaring at Minho, fingers flexing under Minho's grip. Jisung groans, blinking a few times before obliging and shutting his eyes. He hears Minho giggling.

Minho lets go of Jisung's wrist and scoots away from Jisung's hovering palm. There's shuffling, fabric against skin, then something being tossed and falling to the floor, then the bed dipping as someone moves. Then, Minho is grabbing Jisung's hand again, pressing it against his hip, encouraging Jisung to run his palm lower. Jisung gasps when his palm doesn't meet any barriers this time.

"C-can I look?!" He asks, excitedly.

"Yeah. Look at me, jagi."

Jisung opens his eyes wide, looking at Minho's face first before allowing his gaze to drop down to meet the newfound exposed skin.

And, yeah. Minho is also naked. Jisung doesn't even blink, mentally scribbling notes about how Minho's dick looks — it's not even fully hard yet, but it already has a decent size; there's the pronounced vein on the underside that dies on the tip; it's flushed at the head, curving up to Minho's stomach; and—

"So? Did it live up to your expectations?" Minho asks.

"You're uncut," Jisung blurts, hypnotized.

"…That's what you have to say?"

"I—like, that's hot!" Jisung steps out of his trance, gesturing, eyes round and cheeks puffed. "I don't know why it's hot but it's really, really hot—"

Minho kisses Jisung to shut him up. When they part, Minho's smirking. He caresses Jisung's cheek bone with his thumb, nudges Jisung's nose, whispers, "hot, hm?"

"Very," Jisung murmurs, nodding. Minho chuckles.

"Pervert."

(If Jisung's dick twitches at that, that's between him and god.)

"Can I touch it?" Jisung asks, hand hovering near Minho's cock.

"All yours, jagi."

Jisung's fingers trail down Minho's dick, tickling the vein that runs on the underside, watching as it pulses in reaction to his touch. Jisung wraps his fist around Minho's cock and pulls the foreskin fully down, revealing the glistening head, swollen and colored a purplish red; in response, Minho gasps, grabs Jisung's wrist and brings his hand up, using the foreskin to stimulate the head. Jisung lets out a little "woah."

Minho chuckles. "Pretty useful, huh?"

"A lot," Jisung babbles. "I'm jealous. Can I suck you off?"

Minho's dick twitches in Jisung's hold. "What does that have to do—ah, fuck it, yes."

Jisung leans over Minho's lap as soon as Minho has gotten comfortable on the bed. Jisung sticks his tongue out to lick around the head, humming as the tangy taste hits his palate. Jisung holds it by the base and kisses and licks all over the tip before engulfing it with his cheeks hollowed. Minho thrusts up instinctively, hand tangling in Jisung's hair.

Something clicks in Jisung's mind.

He abruptly lets go of Minho's cock, raising his head to be at eye-level with Minho. Minho frowns at him. "What is it?"

"Lee Minho," Jisung says, a smile stretching over his face, fuck, he waited so long for this, oh, god, it's finally time for it, oh, my god, "are you hard?"

Minho clamps his eyes and throws his head back, unable to contain his laughter. Jisung giggles, batting his eyelashes at Minho, eagerly awaiting for his response.

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Minho wiggles his eyebrows at Jisung.

Good enough. Jisung hums, satisfied, and gulps down Minho's cock again.

Jisung takes his time licking and kissing all over Minho's dick, as if memorizing the texture with his lips, letting it slide and rub back and forth on his mouth, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue. Minho's cock twitches angrily in between Jisung's cheeks. The head bumps in Jisung's roof of the mouth and Minho's grip on his hair tightens, hissing, stomach clenched and toes curling.

Jisung bobs his head up and down, humming as Minho's cock slides in and out of his mouth. Minho's knees buckle, his lower body feeling like jelly, melting on Jisung's hands and tongue. Minho slips closer and closer to the edge, fisting the sheets, eyelids fluttering and back arching, letting out soft little groans that grow in volume as Jisung keeps going.

"J-jagi-yah," Minho mumbles, "I'm going to—"

Jisung pulls out, but quickly replaces his mouth with his hand, jerking off Minho while climbing back on top of him to kiss his lips. Minho breathes out, biting his lower lip to muffle his increasing moans, but Jisung is having none of that: he puts a thumb on Minho's mouth and pulls his lip away from his teeth. Minho gasps, making eye contact with Jisung for half a second before biting down on Jisung's thumb and spurting thick ropes of cum on his stomach and down Jisung's fist with a whine dying on the back of his throat.

Jisung hisses, shaking his bitten thumb in the air. He opens his mouth to complain, to call Minho an asshole and a son of a bitch, but it all fades out when he focuses on Minho's face.

He's in… pure bliss. Minho has his eyes closed, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows arched up in relief, lips parted and curled into a small smile, cheeks and ears reddened and hot to the touch, hair messy and sticking to his forehead. When he opens his eyes, he catches Jisung's and laughs, breathless and sated.

And, just like that, a golden light casts from heaven and blesses Jisung's brain with overflowing inspiration. Words flutter to the front of his mind, organizing themselves into rhythmic sentences. Jisung widens his eyes and dashes to his room to grab his laptop.

"Jisungie?"

Jisung storms back, sits next to Minho and boots his writing program. "Oh, my god, that's it!" His hands fly over the keyboard, humming to himself, "your face full of bliss… our paradise…"

Minho chuckles through his nose. He lays his head on Jisung's shoulder, caresses Jisung's thigh and watches as Jisung gets lost in his little bubble of creation.

[09/27 00:16] Seo Changbin: my dear members, this is as tough for me as it is for you, but it must be done.

i have failed you tremendously.

i'm a disgusting pervert and i am not worthy of being in thine presence, as all of you are superior than me.

nevertheless, even though i'm the worst, i hereby attest that i have flicked my binnie and it was AWESOME.

SKZ HALL OF SHAME.docx

[09/27 00:31] Kim Seungmo: you're joking

i can't believe you lost

WITH 4 DAYS REMAINING

[09/27 00:35] Seo Changbin: if you lived with an incubus you'd understand.

[09/27 00:37] Hwang Hyunjin: you know what, fair

[09/27 05:41] CB97: Hey, congrats, Hyunjin!

[09/27 06:00] Ayen: well done jinnie-hyung 😊

[09/27 06:31] Yongbok: ayyy good one hyunjin-ah!!!

[09/27 06:35] Seo Changbin: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK GUYS

[09/27 07:04] Hwang Hyunjin: thanks everyone ❣️❣️

[09/27 07:23] HAN: LMAO CHANGBIN LOST POINT AND LAUGH

[09/27 07:36] Seo Changbin: i'm dropping the barbell on your face next time you ask me to spot you.

Jisung's leg bounces up and down. He's trying to play it cool, pretending like he's checking something on his phone, but his eyes dart to Chan every two seconds, gauging his reactions. Chan has one eyebrow quirked in concentration.

"Han Jisung."

Jisung jumps, turning his chair and leaning closer. "Yes?"

"Is this—" Chan looks up into his eyes. He tilts his head, fighting back a smile. "Is this about sex?"

"W-what? N-no!" Jisung puts both hands up, shaking his head, eyes wide and glossy. He chokes out a laugh. "No, no!"

"You and me tangled together, our little paradise; your face full of bliss makes me see stars? C'mon."

Jisung's whole face reddens. "It's not—l-listen, it can be about a lot of things. Like, like… like love at first sight!" He exclaims, pointing at Chan. "Or when you meet a friend after a long time of not seeing each other."

Chan squints at him. "Yeah. Or like when you wake up early to catch the bus and go to a beach date."

"Exactly!" Jisung claps. "You get it!"

Chan shakes his head, giggling. "Sure. Pick one definition and stick to it, 'cause Stay are definitely going to make fun of you."

"They'll understand." Jisung nods. "So, do I have your blessing to make it?"

"Sure. Just remember that you'll need a video if you plan on releasing it as a Player."

One less burden on Jisung's shoulders. He lets out a relieved sigh. "Yes, yes."

Chan closes the document with Jisung's lyrics and gets up to rummage through their thousands of folders with half-finished songs. Something clicks in Jisung's mind.

"Ah, one more thing: can I perform it as a duet with Minho-hyung?" He asks, opening the sound editing software.

"Of course."

"Thank—"

"Of course this is about Minho," Chan groans, grimacing. He shakes his head. "Ugh, this is TMI. Whatever. Go ahead."

Jisung blushes. Well, it's not not about Minho, so…

Chan rolls his chair closer to his computer, tapping the papers on the table, all the while mumbling "ah, I didn't need to know that…"

"Okay, can we agree that they fucked now?"

"That seems to be the general reaction," Jisung giggles. Minho scrolls down further, smiling at the posts filled with screams and curses. "Ah, what's this? A Hanpop song about sex featuring Lino wasn't on my bingo card, but I'm definitely not complaining."

"You'll have to come up with a really good excuse for this one," Minho smirks. Jisung scratches his neck.

"And I can't even blame you or Chan this time. I'll just say it's about waking up next to someone you like or something like that."

Minho chuckles. They spend a good while reading comments, laughing at most of them; the reaction was understandably wild — so MinSung is straight up releasing songs about fucking now? Written by none other than Han himself?

Jisung has his head resting on Minho's shoulder, index finger scrolling through Minho's phone and clicking on posts he thinks are funny. Minho noses Jisung's hair. "How do you feel?"

"Hm?" Jisung looks up at him.

"You produced a song by yourself and wrote the lyrics for it. Something happy, for once." Minho smiles. "Are you proud?"

Jisung stops and considers it. On one hand, it's his literal job; he's getting paid to produce songs, to sing and perform. That's how he climbed to superstardom status. Millions of people all around the world trust him to do his job as best as he can. On the other hand… in a way, it's proof of his resilience; he overcame the giant monster of creativity block and pulled out a song with lyrics that no one would expect from him. He did his job and he felt good doing it.

"It's still a little weird for me to feel proud of myself, but," he says, nodding, "yeah, I guess I am."

Minho hums. "I am, too. Good job, Jisungie." He pets Jisung's hair. Jisung melts into it, sighing.

"Who would've thought," Jisung mumbles, mind slightly off due to the fingers scratching at his scalp, "I should've made you cum on day one if it was what I needed to get the damn lyrics out. Could've made it to the album."

"Took you long enough. Are you saying you owe me one?"

Jisung snorts, leaning his head on Minho's chest. "You wish. Pervert."

Jisung blinks his eyes open.

It's dark; the night has fallen fully, dotting the sky with stars. A soft breeze enters the room through the gap in the window. Jisung yawns, assimilating who he is and where he is.

Then it clicks. It's over. September has ended.

Jisung won.

A chill runs over his entire body. The torture is finally over. He has proven himself worthy; one month without masturbating, even with the consistent prodding of the world — mainly Minho — to try and make him crumble. But Jisung resisted: he's a stronger man now. One that isn't tied to the pleasures of the flesh and can live normally without touching his dick. He was so fucking normal during this month.

Jisung wants to scream and jump, but, to be honest, there's only one thing rushing through his mind:

Hand. Dick. Now.

Jisung figures Minho wouldn't mind if he jerked off next to him — Minho has made it very clear that he likes the idea of watching Jisung touching himself, so, really, it reads more as a favor to him. Jisung shimmies out of his boxers, licking his lips in anticipation, cock already half-hard simply by the prospect of receiving touch.

Jisung spits in his palm, trails his hand down his body, wraps his fingers around his dick and tugs, and fireworks go off inside his mind. Oh, how he missed this.

Jisung doesn't hold back, pumping himself to full hardness, letting his legs fall open and throwing his head back. Fuck, it feels so good, so liberating; he can't believe he spent an entire month without this, oh, god, he's never doing that again—

"Jisungie?"

Jisung half-opens his eyes, catching Minho's equally sleepy and surprised stare. Jisung giggles, "happy October, hyung."

Minho lets out a breathy laugh. He sits up, running his eyes over Jisung's whole body. He gulps when he sees the blur of Jisung's fist up and down Jisung's cock. "Fuck, jagi."

"F-feels so good, hyung," Jisung babbles, using his free hand to palm and tease his balls. He clamps his eyes shut, biting his lower lip, stomach coiling. A wave of warmth washes over him.

"Yeah? Did you miss it?" Minho lays down, pressing against Jisung to mouth at his nape and jaw. Jisung nods eagerly.

"Hyung, d-do it with me," Jisung mutters. His mind is fuzzy, wires crossing and tangling, senses fogged by pleasure and victory. He deserves this. All of this.

Minho kicks into action, humming, shoving a hand down his sweatpants, moaning right into Jisung's ear, "you look so hot, jagi-yah. I knew you'd—" Minho hisses; Jisung hears the distinct sound of his hand working his cock. "Knew you'd look good pleasuring yourself."

"For you," Jisung says, fluttering his eyelids. He turns his face, nudging Minho's nose, breaths mingling, hot and ragged. "'m touching myself for you. Wanted you to see."

"Fuck, Jisung-ah. Couldn't even wait till later? Had to do it now?"

Jisung laughs. "It's our celebration, hyung. We won."

Minho bites Jisung's ear lobe. Jisung whines, arching into it, hand picking up pace.

Jisung cums not long after, calling for hyung as he spills over his stomach. Minho follows suit, grunting and thrusting up into his palm, soiling the front of his pants. Jisung giggles; satiated and happy.

"Ah, that was so good," he mumbles, palming the bedside table to grab his phone, "thank god September is over—"

Jisung's face falls when he looks at the screen.

In blaring white letters, over his colorful wallpaper, he reads,

September 30th

23:59

"I'm gonna kill myself."

Minho startles at that, sitting up and peeking over Jisung's shoulder to see his face. "Jisungie? What happened?"

"Hyung," he wails, a knot forming on his throat, "we lost."

"What?" Minho frowns, looking to the screen, just in time to see the date changing from September 30th to October 1st. Minho gulps. "Jisung-ah—"

"I can't—this can't be right," Jisung puts his phone away. He shakes his head. "No, like, we totally—"

His mind is a mess. He can't—can't reason with himself. He saw the date. He jerked off in September. He lost.

"Oh, my god," Jisung mutters. Minho is rubbing circles on his knee. There's still cum drying on Jisung's stomach. "Oh, my god, I lost."

"Jisung-ah, c'mon. That was basically already in Oct—"

"No, hyung. I have to be real now." Jisung runs his hands through his hair, grabbing at the strands. "I lost. I should've waited a bit longer, fuck, I wasn't even that horny—"

Minho wraps Jisung into a hug and squeezes him. "You still came very far, jagi. You won to me. I don't care."

"I care," Jisung mumbles, allowing Minho to suffocate him in between his arms. Jisung sighs. "Well, I guess at least we lost together."

Minho tenses. He hides his face in Jisung's back, muttering, "yeah, haha. About that."

Jisung's spine goes cold. "What?"

"I, uh—so, funny story, I actually did it on, uh—that day that you asked me for help—"

"Hyung, what?! How could you?!" Jisung turns in Minho's embrace. Fuck, his head is going to explode.

"L-listen! This is like the book I read earlier this month, about the doctor and the monster. The doctor drinks a potion to turn into another man so he can do bad things, but—"

"What!? What are you talking about?" Jisung scoots away from Minho, glaring at him. "Cheater! Liar!"

"I mean—just put yourself in my shoes!" Minho gestures wildly in the air. "I was doing just fine before you came into my room moaning hyung, please, it hurts, and came as soon as I got my hand on your dick! You expected me to, what, just move on from that?! You were just like the potion."

"What—what the fuck does that even mean—"

"You awakened my bad side." Minho shrugs. "I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen, and—and you know I like making you flustered—"

"Stop talking."

Minho shuts up. Jisung sighs, hiding his face in his hands.

It's not like he's going to cry about this. No, Jisung is above that. Maybe Minho is right — maybe it still counts. He survived 29 full days and, like, ¾ of the 30th day; maybe that can be seen as a win. Is there something like a second place in No Fap?

Jisung gulps down the knot in his throat. Minho lost and didn't tell him. Now it makes sense; how Minho was so calm and collected when they were having those awkward conversations, why Minho didn't mind making Jisung cum without asking for anything back. The sly, dirty cat. And he has the nerve to blame Jisung for that?! Because, apparently, Jisung was too sexy for his own good and, quote, "awakened Minho's bad side"? So Minho couldn't take it anymore after jerking off Jisung that one time and had to touch himself immediately?

Jisung can't tell if he wants to punch him in the face or make fun of him or kiss him until they both pass out. Maybe all of the above. In that order.

And, hey. Maybe Jisung can get something out of it all. A consolation prize, if you will.

"Jisungie," Minho caresses Jisung's side, "are you really mad?"

"Of course I am." Jisung pouts, crossing his arms. His forehead is crinkled. "You lied to me."

"Well, technically I just didn't tell—"

Jisung glares at him. Minho bites his lip, going quiet. His thumb presses into Jisung's hip bone, rubbing circles there, slow and gentle.

"Sorry, jagi," Minho says, finally, "I didn't think you'd get so upset. How can hyung make it up to you?"

Jisung sighs, looking up, searching through his mental archive for something that feels apologetic enough — someone should name these folders better. "Say you're a disgusting pervert."

"Hyung's a disgusting pervert," Minho affirms, no hesitation. And then, to tickle Jisung's ego, "one that lost embarrassingly early, just like you said I would."

Jisung hadn't thought about that. His face lights up. "Yeah, see? I know you!"

"You do." Minho smiles, scooting closer to Jisung. "No one else knows me like you do."

Jisung takes a deep breath. Sweet talker. "You owe me fifteen orgasms."

Minho arches his eyebrows. "Oh. Do I?"

"Mhm. One for each day you lied to me."

"…Do you take payment in advance?" Minho wraps his arms around Jisung's waist, tentatively, pulling him closer. Jisung lets him, putting both hands on Minho's shoulders.

"Yours is already late. Son of a bitch."

[10/01 01:11] Lee Knong: Ugh this is stupid

Hi. I'm a disgusting pervert. I lost the stupid fucking thing. Whatever.

[10/01 01:11] HAN: do it correctly u son of a bitch

[10/01 01:12] Lee Knong: Do it yourself little shit

[10/01 01:13] CB97: Oh?

[10/01 01:13] HAN: sighs

yeah uh i lost. i'm a disgusting pervert and you all are superior, yadda yadda. i'm so stupid i should've checked the time but noooo let's trust minho hyung

[10/01 01:14] Lee Knong: I WAS ASLEEP ???

[10/01 01:15] Kim Seungmo: 🍿🍿🍿

[10/01 01:19] Seo Changbin: wait wait

both of you lost? together? at the same time?

[10/01 01:21] Yongbok: ooooooooohhhhhh 👀

[10/01 01:22] CB97: The plot thickens!!

[10/01 01:23] Lee Knong: I lost on the 15th, but Jisung was so hung up on this stupid challenge that I couldn't admit defeat

[10/01 01:25] HAN: SKZ HALL OF SHAME.docx

whatever dude WHATEVER

[10/01 01:26] Seo Changbin: HAN JISUNG LOST ON THE LAST DAY EVERYONE POINT AND LAUGH

[10/01 01:26] HAN: STOP I'M GONNA KMS

[10/01 01:27] Lee Knong: No you won't

We still have to use your present

[10/01 01:28] Kim Seungmo: what present

[10/01 01:30] Lee Knong: Oh it's nothing special

Just a prosjtkjngflnm

IM GOING THROGUH A TUNNELB YEEEEE

"Speech! Speech! Speech!"

Yongbok giggles, putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "What do you want me to say?"

"Winners' P.O.V! C'mon, Felix!" Chan encourages, clapping, with the others mirroring quickly. Yongbok's laughter booms from his chest.

"Well, uh…" Yongbok shrugs, looking at the table filled with foods and drinks. "That was easy?"

Changbin boos. "Stop bragging!"

Yongbok gives him an apologetic smile. "But—but it was easy to me! I told you guys, I don't really—" His cheeks go pink. He clears his throat. "I only remembered we were doing this challenge when you talked about it."

"Ah, this is TMI already," Jeongin complains, hiding his face. Chan laughs next to him, covering Jeongin's ears.

"GG, easy dinner," Yongbok finishes, throwing his hair back, and everyone else giggles and slaps him in the back and yell variations of smug bastard and you nerd!

"Ah, no, I don't wanna listen to Seungmin's speech," Changbin says when Seungmin adjusts himself in his seat, "he's gonna brag nonstop and call us all depraved freaks or something!"

"Good evening, depraved freaks," Seungmin starts. Changbin groans obnoxiously, earning a laugh and a slap from Hyunjin. "You all are inferior to me and Yongbok-hyung not only because you lost such an easy challenge, but also because you were incapable of dealing with the urges—"

"Okay, spill," Minho cuts him, preparing a meat and vegetables wrapper for Jisung, "I know you cheated, but I have no idea how. Jisung's rules were pretty specific. What did you do?"

"W-what?" Seungmin widens his eyes. He shakes his head. "I didn't do anything. I simply used my mind to get around the—"

"Hold on," Yongbok interrupts, swallowing down his food, "you learned how to lucid dream, right? Was that because of—of this?"

Hyunjin leans over the table in shock. "You taught yourself how to lucid dream so you could cheat?!"

"Listen—"

Chaos ensues. Some laugh, some shout, some kick Seungmin under the table, some grab him by the nape or the shoulder, some slap things over… by the time the group's frustration has been properly expressed, Seungmin is disheveled from hair to clothes, gesturing with both hands in the air to try and get some attention.

"It's not my fault that I—"

"Unbelievable." Minho shakes his head. "You used lucid dreaming to cheat at a don't jerk off challenge. That's—that's next level, even for you."

"What did you even do in those dreams?" Hyunjin asks, looking up from his ramen.

Jisung catches Seungmin's eyes fiddling to the edge of the table; he lingers a millisecond too long on the two people occupying the end seats on each side. A blush blooms in his neck, cheeks and ears. "Nothing. TMI."

Jisung looks to Minho, sat at the end, and furrows his brows. Huh.

Chan, sat in front of Minho, perks up, "how does that even work? Like, do you wake up inside a dream, or…?"

While Seungmin is explaining the intricacies of lucid dreaming, Jisung focuses on sneaking some chicken wings into his and Minho's plate. Minho winks at him, puckering his lips, and Jisung smiles, sending him a flying kiss. Having to pay for someone else's dinner isn't how Jisung wanted to spend his Friday night, but… at least he's in good company, with good food and — arguably — good talks. It's not sushi, but it's still good.

"Should we get speeches from the NPCs too?" Yongbok chimes in. All eyes fall on Hyunjin and Jeongin.

"Ah, I didn't do anything different. It was just another month to me." Hyunjin dismisses it with his hand. Changbin glares daggers at his side profile.

"Just another month, eh?" He repeats. At that, Hyunjin cracks a giddy smile, leaning into Changbin and poking his tongue out.

"What about our youngest?" Minho asks, looking up at Jeongin. Jisung chuckles next to him.

Jeongin hides his face, shy under all seven pairs of eyes staring at him. "I'm—it's TMI!"

"Aw, c'mon!" Changbin elbows Jeongin's side. "You didn't get curious? Didn't even try?"

Jeongin peeks from in between his fingers. "I, uh… I-I did, but… I didn't get too far."

Hyunjin shoves Changbin back so he can stare at Jeongin. "Wait, you did? When did you lose?"

"You had to tell the group!" Seungmin protests.

Jeongin shrugs, showing his tongue. "I wasn't in the challenge. I don't owe you guys anything."

Chan ruffles Jeongin's hair and protects him from the others' attacks as chaos ensues once more. Jeongin laughs, shielding himself with Chan's arms.

The group easily quiets down to focused groups: Hyunjin and Felix talk about their upcoming sponsors, Changbin takes notes from Seungmin on how to induce lucid dreams — you know, for the next challenge —, and Chan has just made the mistake of asking how Jisung managed to loose on the last day. Jisung sighs exaggeratedly.

"Let's just say I got carried away and didn't look at the time," he says, then turns to glare at Minho, "and a certain someone had been lying to my face—"

Minho shuts him up with a quick kiss. Jisung blinks, wide-eyed, and hears Jeongin's shocked ah! from the other side of the table.

"Minho, don't do that!" Chan scolds, scowling, "the curtains are open and the door's unlocked. What if someone sees that? We can't—"

Minho kisses Jisung again, staring straight into Chan's soul. Jisung giggles, covering his mouth, looking back and forth from Minho to Chan — and occasionally to Jeongin, who's also suppressing his chuckles with his hand.

"That's not funny. Can you imagine what people would—"

Jeongin pokes Chan's arm, and, when Chan turns to look, Jeongin pecks his lips, barely making any contact before shrinking into himself and hiding his face, giggling. Chan goes completely silent, face flushed and eyes wide.

Minho quirks an eyebrow to him. Chan mouths, "later," and pats Jeongin's back. Jisung lightly elbows Minho's arm, excited for the upcoming tea.

"Wait, I want a kiss from Jeongin too!" Hyunjin gets up from the other end of the table, approaching the youngest. Yongbok perks up.

"I want one too!" he says, smiling, "winners get Jeongin's kiss!"

"But Chan lost!" Hyunjin pouts.

"I didn't agree to any of that!" Jeongin protests, shielding himself with both arms.

"I think all losers should get a kiss from Yeni, as consolation," Changbin chimes in, already leaning into Jeongin's personal space. Jeongin shrieks.

"No!"

As everyone scrambles to get closer to Jeongin and demand a kiss, Minho quietly searches for Jisung's hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing it up to his lips, brushing on Jisung's knuckles. Jisung shudders, letting out a breath. "Jagi-yah, are you tired?"

"Not really, hyung. Why?"

Minho smirks; there's that glint in his eyes again. "Think we can bring it down to ten when we go back?"

It takes Jisung a few seconds to get what he means. Then, color paints his cheeks. "W-we're on twelve."

"I know," Minho mutters. His other hand slides up Jisung's thigh, fingers grasping the meaty flesh. "But I can give you two when we get back. We still haven't tested your present."

Jisung breathes out; his eyes flicker, from Minho's eyes down to his lips, tempting, so alluring, snake and apple and all that. Jisung bites his lower lip.

"Han Jisung," Minho whispers, getting closer, to the point where he's pushing the words directly into Jisung's face, "are you hard?"

Jisung breaks into a smile.

"Yes, hyung," he answers, lips almost touching Minho's, "I'm hard. What are you gonna do about it?"

"For fuck's sake, get a room!"

Jisung's laughter fills the apartment as Minho runs after Chan yelling "fuck off, you ruined it!"

If Jisung can be corny for a moment: even though he lost the No Fap September challenge, this month was still a fun ride. He spent 29 days, 23 hours and 59 minutes without cranking the horn, proved to himself that he can write about anything if he has the right muse, had an incredible birthday celebration, and, most noticeably, discovered things about himself and his decade-long crush.

Yeah, he had fun with his members. It's not sushi, but… Jisung figures it's good too.

[10/05 12:15] Hwang Hyunjin: sooooo

should we start preparing for no nut november? 😋

Jisung takes a deep breath.

[10/05 12:17] HAN: count me in.