Archive of Our Own

Jisung was sitting on Minho’s lap when Seungmin arrived.

“He’s stealing your man again,” Hyunjin said, handing Seungmin a beer.

Seungmin took it from him with a nod of thanks, but otherwise kept his eyes trained on where Jisung was laughing, head thrown back and an arm draped sloppily around Minho’s neck. He was obviously tipsy, if not outright drunk, cheeks flushed and hand movements bigger than normal. The soju in his cup was sloshing around, and Seungmin saw Jeongin frown as some of it got on him.

“Seungminnie!” Felix called, and the rest of the group looked over to where he and Hyunjin were standing.

With the group’s attention on him, Seungmin quickly took in the entire tableau. Felix was in Changbin’s lap, kneading at his biceps, as Chan watched fondly. Jeongin was pressed up against Minho’s side, apparently being held there by Jisung, who was as noted, sitting in Minho’s lap.

Seungmin nodded to everyone, trying to keep a frown off his face. He took the empty seat next to Chan, as Hyunjin joined Felix and Changbin.

It would almost be easier if Jisung was trying to steal his man. At least then there would be something Seungmin could point to, some issue he could bring to Minho and say, this isn’t okay. But no. Jisung and Minho had always been that way, long before Seungmin and Minho started their… whatever it was. They hadn’t put a name to it, not yet at least. Which just left Seungmin feeling vaguely annoyed at something he couldn’t even name.

He looked at Chan, who was still smiling at Felix and Changbin.

Chan didn’t get upset whenever Felix put his hands all over the other members. Felix didn’t mind when Chan talked about how cute Hyunjin was, or how he and Jeongin would walk around their apartment naked all the time. It was just Seungmin who got torn up inside over—over nothing. Just Jisung and Minho being as they always had been. Just Minho and Jisung being Minsung.

“Seungminnie,” Chan said, throwing an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders and pulling him into Chan’s body heat. “How was practice?”

Seungmin drew his eyes away from the way Minho was watching Jisung articulate with fondness. He had one hand on Jisung’s lower back, likely holding him up so he wouldn’t topple off of Minho’s thighs.

“Seungmin?” Chan said, giving the back of his neck a quick squeeze.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to Chan. “It was good,” Seungmin said. “I still have a long way to go, but my instructor was pleased.”

“Ah, you always think you have a long way to go,” Chan said.

Seungmin shrugged, eyes drawn back to Minho once more. Jisung was talking to Jeongin now, arm around his neck. Jeongin kept taking it off, but Jisung was undeterred and put it back each time. The fourth or fifth time this happened, Minho took pity on Jeongin and intertwined his fingers with Jisung’s, trapping him.

“I always do,” Seungmin said, distracted. “You know that, hyung.”

He caught Chan frowning out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” Chan asked. “I don’t think that.”

Seungmin shook his head, trying to clear it. “No, I just mean…” he trailed off. “You know what it’s like.”

Chan watched him closely, and Seungmin knew he needed to get out of this conversation before Chan went into full damage control mode.

“I didn’t mean anything, hyung,” Seungmin said. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Chan frowned again, but before Seungmin could say anything, Minho appeared behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you making my dog frown?” Minho asked Chan.

Seungmin twisted to face him, trying to bite down on a smile, but knowing he was failing. “What?” he said. “I’m not—”

“I was just asking him about practice,” Chan said, holding up his hands. Chan apparently had no qualms about letting Minho see that he found him amusing, his grin was expanding across his face, dimples and all.

“Even less reason for him to be frowning,” Minho said, a cloudy expression of his own hovering around his eyebrows.

Chan held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”

He shot Seungmin another you okay? look. Seungmin sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said looking at Chan.

Chan stood and dropped his hand on the top of Seungmin’s head, giving him a little scritch as he stepped around them on his way to join Felix and Changbin.

When Seungmin turned to face Minho he was still scowling. With Minho’s attention on him, Seungmin finally let his smile free. “So serious, hyung,” he said. He reached out, wanting to press the tips of his fingers to the furrow between Minho’s eyebrows, but letting his hand drop back down to his side

“Hmm,” Minho said.

Seungmin wished he could reach up and touch Minho. Pull him down for a kiss, or simply into the seat next to him. He could sit on Minho’s lap instead. His fingers itched to run through Minho’s hair and feel the silky strands between his fingers.

It was easy for everyone else, it seemed. Not Seungmin. He felt paralyzed. What if he reached out and Minho turned him away. What if he laughed?

“I’ll get you a drink,” Minho said, and turned on his heel.

Seungmin gulped the beer Hyunjin handed him moments ago, and turned towards the group, tuning into their conversation for the first time since he arrived.

When Minho returned a moment later, he pressed another beer into Seungmin’s hand, and took the seat left empty by Chan.

The conversation flowed around them, and Seungmin did his best to pay attention to what his members were talking about. The heat from Minho’s thigh pressed against him made that difficult. At some point, his arm settled around Seungmin’s shoulders. They were pressed together from shoulder to hip. The two beers Seungmin drank settled warmly in his stomach. He wished he could lean his head against Minho’s shoulder.

His tolerance for alcohol had always been good though.

Hours later, everyone was gathering their things.

“My place?” Minho asked, as he helped Seungmin put on his jacket.

Seungmin turned his face away so he could smile.

“Sure, hyung,” he said.

The three of them—Jisung was swaying between them, a drunk smile on his face—made their way back to Minho’s dorm.

Minho keyed in the code when they arrived, one arm still firmly around Jisung’s waist holding him up. The three of them pushed into the entryway, crowded until Minho helped Jisung make his way to his bedroom. Seungmin lingered, putting his shoes neatly in the closet, hanging up the coat Jisung had carelessly tossed to the floor.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He turned, startled, to see Minho leaning against the wall.

“Oh,” Seungmin said. Of course, Seungmin was only trying to be helpful, but of course Minho didn't need Seungmin to tidy up after them, they were perfectly capable of taking care of their home. “Yeah. I just thought—”

“It’s okay, Seungminnnie,” Minho said.

He held out his hand and Seungmin took it. Let himself be pulled towards Minho’s bedroom. Stood just inside the door when Minho shut it behind them with a faint click. He was being awkward. He could tell that much. He wasn’t sure why this was hard all of a sudden, why he was questioning his right to be here, questioning the way his body took up space in the room.

Minho’s room.

“Are you okay?” Minho said.

He was sitting on the bed, in just his boxers. Seungmin hadn’t even noticed him taking off his clothes. He blinked, taking it all in. The light on Minho’s bedside table was on, casting a faint glow around the otherwise dark room. He could make out the rumpled fabric of his earlier outfit hanging over the edge of the laundry hamper.

He shook his head, trying to clear away the weird vibes he’d been carrying all night.

“Yes, I’m fine, hyung.”

He pulled his shirt and pants off, folding them over the desk chair before joining Minho on “his” side of the bed. He had been here enough nights now to have that. There was a spare charger plugged into the wall for his phone, and the book Seungmin had been looking for over the last few days was sitting on the bedside table where he left it.

“You sure?” Minho asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Seungmin nodded as he crawled under the covers. “‘Course.”

Minho observed him for another moment before leaning in for a kiss.

Seungmin thought he meant for it to be quick. Just a peck, really. Instead, Seungmin wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck, and opened his mouth into the kiss.

Minho kissed him for a moment, open lipped but mostly dry. When he pulled back, he watched Seungmin for several long seconds. Don't ask me, Seungmin thought desperately. Don't ask.

“Yeah?” Minho said.

Relief coursed through him. This, Seungmin could handle. Could answer.

“Yeah,” he said.

Minho reached down between their bodies, fingers curling around the back of Seungmin's left knee. His fingers were just a little cold, the last traces of the night air clinging to his skin. Seungmin shivered and told himself it was just the temperature. Just the brief chill, and not the way Minho moved Seungmin's body exactly where he wanted it. The way he spread Seungmin open below him to get to his soft underbelly.

Seungmin ducked his chin, not wanting to see whatever he might read on Minho's face—pity, maybe. Amusement would be worse. To see the way Minho laughed at him, at the way he was getting his ridiculous feelings—feelings over nothing!—all over everything.

Instead, when Minho lay his short fingers underneath Seungmin's chin, he closed his eyes.

The kiss was soft, gentle enough to have tears prickle behind Seungmin's closed eyelids. He hoped Minho had his eyes closed too, sure he would. Surely this display of unnecessary hysterics would go unnoticed.

Seungmin bit Minho's lip in an effort to distract himself. Minho grunted, the full weight of him falling down into the open cradle of Seungmin's hips. He felt so good here, so perfect. If they could just stay like this, pressed together body to body, there would be no issue. Seungmin didn't think about—about anything, not when they were like this.

He ran his palms up the broad expanse of Minho's back, feeling the muscles flex under his touch. He slid them down again, up again and back.

Minho huffed a breath against Seungmin's lips.

“What?” Seungmin asked. It was safe now, to open his eyes, so he did. Minho's bangs were flopped over his forehead, his sharp eyes open wide and deep.

“Tickles,” he said, mouth turning up at the corner.

“Oh,” Seungmin said. He should press his advantage, dig his fingers in harder, make Minho laugh. He dropped his hands to the mattress. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Minho said. “It's fine, Seungminnie.”

“Okay,” Seungmin whispered. “Sorry.”

Minho quirked an eyebrow, and Seungmin saw the moment before he was going to ask. Seungmin tilted his head back instead, begging for a kiss.

Minho obliged, and Seungmin knew he would not get away with it a third time. He turned his attention towards the way they felt together. Minho was resting maybe eighty percent of his weight on Seungmin. He used his legs, wrapping them tightly around Minho's hips, and opened his mouth to let himself be kissed deeper. He sucked on Minho's tongue when it swept past his teeth, and listened with satisfaction to the way Minho grunted above him, the way Seungmin could feel Minho's cock twitch against his inner thigh.

His hands felt heavy, almost pinned by their own weight against the blankets. He wanted to fully sink into the bed. Disappear. Let himself be a vessel for everything Minho might need. Seungmin could do that. It would be easy. So much easier than having to think or worry about if he was doing things the right way. So much easier than dealing with the jealous-not-jealous feelings that plagued him. He could just be a thing for Minho to use.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked. “You're being extra weird tonight.”

Seungmin felt himself blush, and shook himself. “I'm fine,” he forced himself to say, and he was. He would be. With effort, he lifted his hands off the bed. Rubbed Minho's shoulders, and slid them down his sides to grip Minho's thick waist.

“I'm good,” he said. “C’mere.”

Minho leaned down again, and Seungmin kissed him, making sure to focus. It wasn't a hardship, afterall. There were so many wonderful parts of Minho to focus on: the way he tasted under Seungmin's tongue as he mouthed at Minho's jaw, the solid weight of him holding Seungmin down, his scent, the way he touched Seungmin with gentle confidence. It was all good, so good.

Sliding his hand around between their bodies, he palmed Minho's cock which was half hard in his briefs. Minho groaned above him.

“You don't have to,” he said.

Seungmin wanted to. He wanted to show Minho… He didn't know what, exactly, but he wanted to show him something.

“I know,” he said, putting a smile into his voice. “I want to. Let me.” He tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of Minho's boxers, feeling the warmth of his skin, the wiry hair.

“Fuck,” Minho grunted.

Seungmin could feel the way he was holding his body steady, not pushing forward into Seungmin's touch.

“Come on, hyung,” Seungmin urged. “Come on.” Use me, he didn't say. Please.

Minho dropped down onto his forearms, pressing his face into the crook of Seungmin's neck. Seungmin imagined Minho putting his hand there instead of his face, pressing, holding. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around Minho's cock, hardening to fullness in his grip. He slid his fingers lower, rolling his balls in his palm gently.

“Ah, Seungmin,” Minho gasped. “Jagi.”

Seungmin shuddered, fingers tightening as he stroked Minho slowly.

Minho pushed himself up onto his knees, pushing his boxers down over his hips. He yanked Seungmin's down too, and his cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach. Seungmin hadn't even noticed he was hard, not until that exact moment, the visual evidence sending physical sensation running through his whole body. Minho watched, eyes satisfyingly dark. He reached for the lube on the bedside table, squirting some onto his hand.

Seungmin watched, rapt. Minho fell forward, weight dropping down once more, and then he wrapped his hand around both their cocks. It should have been ridiculous, his fingers could barely hold the two of them together. Instead, it sent heat coursing through Seungmin's being, and he spread his legs trying to make room between them for Minho, wanting to encourage more—more everything.

“Hyung,” he whined.

“That's it, Seungminnie,” Minho whispered, breath hot on Seungmin's neck, against his ear. “Good puppy, hmm? My good puppy.”

“Oh god,” Seungmin moaned. His whole body felt hot, tight like a spring ready to coil.

Minho rolled his hips, putting his dancer body to good use.

It didn't take long after that, another half dozen rolls of Minho's hips had Seungmin's back arching as he spilled over. Minho grunted and swore, picking up the pace. It didn't hurt, not quite, but it wouldn't take long before Seungmin knew it would be too much. He almost hoped it would, hoped he could endure, just to prove to Minho that he would. Instead, Minho squeezed them both tight, grip moving fast.

“Hyung,” Seungmin whined. He didn't know if he was urging Minho to finish or begging him not to stop.

In the end, it didn't matter. Minho came with a grunt, hot come splashing over Seungmin's thighs and belly. Minho collapsed on top of him, and Seungmin let out a slow sigh as his heart rate slowed.

He might have dozed for a few minutes, because the next thing he knew Minho was rolling out of bed. Seungmin watched him go, admiring his body, the strong line of his back, the way his hips and thighs flexed as he crossed the room.

“Be right back,” he said over his shoulder.

The hallway was dark, but after a moment Seungmin saw the light turn on in the bathroom and heard the water running. He waited for Minho to come back with a cloth or towel, shivering slightly at the sensation of sweat drying on his skin.

Seungmin wanted to get under the covers, but he was still damp and sticky. If he got up now, Minho would probably scoff and herd him back into the bed. Seungmin could imagine the way he would roll his eyes. You think I can't take care of you, Kim Seungmin? Seungmin would try to escape, maybe Minho would hold him down as he wiped him off.

He was taking a long time. Seungmin could hear movement in the apartment. Just the faint sounds of Minho shuffling around.

He dozed again, waking to the soft click of the bedroom door.

“You didn't go wash up?” Minho asked, brow furrowed.

“Oh,” Seungmin said. “I must have fallen asleep. I'll go now.”

In the bathroom he quickly washed up, not bothering to wait for the water to warm before wiping his stomach and between his thighs. He shivered again, rushing back to the bedroom and crawling under the covers.

“You were gone for a while,” Seungmin commented when the two of them were settled close but not quite touching.

“Yeah. I just went to check on Jisungie.”

“Oh,” Seungmin said again.

“He was pretty out of it earlier, I just wanted to make sure he didn't fall asleep with his clothes on.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin said. “Of course.”

The silence felt heavy between them. Seungmin didn't know what to do. The distance between them was so short. He could move his hand six inches and he would be touching Minho. Did Minho want that, though? Did he even want Seungmin here? He invited him, but maybe Seungmin should have gone home when Minho went to wash up. Was that what he meant? Seungmin wished he would just say it, if so. He was never good at picking up on that kind of thing, and Minho knew it. Surely he would have said something if he wanted Seungmin to leave. He was never shy about expressing when he needed alone time. Or not alone, exactly, Seungmin supposed. Maybe he had inadvertently crashed some roommate time without knowing it.

Fuck. Seungmin would never get to sleep like this.

“Hyung?” he whispered, not knowing if Minho would still be awake.

“What's the matter?” Minho asked. He sounded half asleep already.

“Is it okay that I'm here?”

“What? Course. Come here, aegi.”

The blankets moved and Seungmin pressed closer to Minho's body. Minho wrapped his arms around him, snuggling Seungmin into his warmth.

“Okay,” Seungmin said. “Night, hyung.”

“Night, Seungminnie. Sweet dreams.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of Seungmin's neck, but it was still a while before Seungmin managed to drift off for real.

Seungmin woke in the morning with his face pressed to Minho's hip. He turned his head, and surreptitiously wiped a bit of drool off Minho's skin, hoping he hadn't noticed.

Minho's hand dropped to Seungmin's head, fingers scratching pleasantly across his scalp.

“Hi,” Seungmin said.

“Morning, sleepy,” Minho said.

“Mm,” Seungmin agreed.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but it felt later than he usually slept. He had a few things planned for the day, but nothing that would inconvenience anyone if he skipped it. He drifted a little, imagining a relaxing day with Minho. Maybe they could go out for breakfast or a cafe, and then go for a walk or to the gym if Minho really wanted. Seungmin could make them coffee when they were ready to get up.

“What do you want to do today?” Seungmin asked.

Minho didn't answer and after a moment Seungmin looked up to see him typing on his phone.

“Hyung?” Seungmin prompted.

“What was that?”

“I said—” but Minho's attention was already back on his phone.

“Who’re you texting?” he asked, voice a bit scratchy from sleep.

“Just Jisung,” Minho said.

“Oh,” Seungmin said. Jisung was right outside Minho's bedroom. Or maybe across the apartment in his own room. If Seungmin wasn't here, they'd probably be hanging out together.

Minho kept typing.

After a moment, Seungmin sat up slowly. He should go. Minho didn't look up, so Seungmin climbed out of bed and started putting his clothes on. He was obviously getting in the way of something Minho wanted to do more than spend time with Seungmin. Talk to Seungmin. Look at him.

“You're getting dressed?” Minho asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I'll take off, get out of your hair.”

“You don't have to—”

“It's fine,” Seungmin said, feeling frantic now. Where were his socks? It was fine, he could get a fresh pair back at his dorm. Normally he hated to leave things behind, especially dirty laundry that would become another task for Minho, but right now getting out was more important.

“Seungmin, at least let me put my pants on, I'll walk you out.”

“It's fine,” Seungmin said. “See you, hyung.”

He rushed out, barely managing to avoid slamming the door shut. Minho didn't deserve that.

Jisung was at the kitchen table, and looked up when Seungmin rushed past him toward the front door.

“Hey…” he said. “Are you going?”

“Yep,” he said shortly.

He put his bare feet into his shoes, ignoring the unpleasant texture. When he looked up, Jisung was hovering. He forced his face to soften.

“See you later, hope the hangover isn't too bad.”

“Okay, bye?” Jisung said.

Seungmin closed the door. He would owe both of them an apology later.

The worst part was that Seungmin knew he was being ridiculous. Jealous. No, the worst part was that Seungmin knew there was nothing to be jealous of.

Yet, he was.

He spent countless hours writing in his journal, trying to make himself let go of these feelings, reminding himself that Minho and Jisung were just friends, that they joked all the time about their fanservice and how everyone ate it up, how they were best friends and nothing more.

Maybe the worst part was that Seungmin believed them. He was the one with an issue, just him. He couldn't just be running out of Minho's apartment like this every time Minho paid attention to someone other than him. It was unreasonable. Childish.

He would sit down with his journal when he got home. Again. Try to put his feelings in order and then he would figure out how to send an apology without making either Minho or Jisung feel like they'd done something wrong. Because they hadn't.

He opened the door to his apartment only to find Chan sitting naked at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal.

“For fuck’s sake,” he said. He almost pulled out his phone to text Minho about it, before he remembered the way he had stormed off in a huff like a child.

“Good morning, Seungmin,” Chan said, drawing out the last syllable.

“Hi,” Seungmin said shortly.

“Seungmin?”

Felix appeared from his bedroom. He was wearing briefs and a shirt that was clearly Chan's.

“Hey,” Seungmin said.

Neither one of them remarked on Chan's nakedness. Seungmin sighed to himself and grabbed a bowl for himself from the cupboard and sat across from Chan at the table. Chan pushed the cereal box toward him.

“You're back early,” Felix said casually, as Seungmin poured some cereal into his bowl.

Too casually. Seungmin watched him and Chan exchange a look.

“Yep,” Seungmin said. He reached for the milk and added it to the cereal.

“Everything okay?”

Another exchanged look.

“Yes, Yongbok,” Seungmin said. “Everything's fine.”

“Okay,” Felix said with a serious nod. There was a brief moment of silence. “So do you want to hear the gossip?”

Chan put his spoon down. “Lix,” he said.

Felix turned his eyes on Chan. “What?” he asked, the picture of innocence.

Seungmin almost picked up his phone again.

“Leave Jeongin alone.”

Seungmin perked up at that. “What did Jeongin do?”

Chan sighed.

Felix looked at Chan, and when he didn’t say anything else he turned back to Seungmin excitedly. “He and Hannie almost kissed!”

“What?” Seungmin asked, genuinely shocked. “When?”

“I'm not sure. Sometime pretty close to the end of the night,” Felix said.

“Jeongin feels terrible,” Chan added.

“Wait, why?” Felix asked.

“Cause Hannie was pretty drunk.”

“Well, he was pretty tipsy,” Felix agreed. “But it's obvious they've both wanted this for a while.”

“I know!” Chan said, any hint of admonition gone from his voice. “Besides they only almost kissed, nothing even happened.”

They continued gossiping, but Seungmin was only half-listening. As he pulled out his phone to text Jeongin, it buzzed in his hand.

Minho
Why did you run out so fast :(

Seungmin stared at the text from Minho. You seemed busy, he typed. He sighed. Then deleted it.

He didn't know what to say so he flipped over to his thread with Jeongin. You okay?

His phone buzzed immediately with multiple texts.

Jeongin
wtf who told you
was it Minho hyung
did Jisung say something to him

That stopped Seungmin in his tracks. Jisung probably did say something to him. That was probably what they were texting about this morning.

He felt like an idiot.

He flipped back to his texts with Minho.

Why couldn’t you have told me, he typed before deleting that too. It was bad enough that he physically ran out of Minho's bed just because he was texting someone else. What right did he have to demand that Minho told him things that weren't even Minho's to share?

Sighing to himself again he tried typing out another message.

Seungmin
Yeah lol sorry about that

Minho
Is everything okay?

Seungmin
Yeah no worries, hyung. I'll see you later

Minho sent a thumbs up back.

When Seungmin put his phone down both Felix and Chan were looking at him.

“What?” Seungmin asked. He put his phone face down on the table so he wouldn’t be tempted to pick it up again.

“What's going on with you?” Felix asked slowly.

“What do you mean? Nothing.”

“Hmm,” Felix said.

He exchanged another look with Chan, which honestly was starting to piss Seungmin off. Chan was going to sit naked in Seungmin’s own kitchen and judge him?

They were both watching him too closely.

“I'm going to shower,” Seungmin said.

He walked down the hall into the bathroom and pretended he couldn’t hear Felix and Chan start talking again as soon as the door shut behind him.

He felt better after his shower, or if not totally better, refreshed at least. The door to Felix’s bedroom was shut, and he could hear faint voices coming from behind it. Not wanting to stay and listen to whatever they were going to get up to, Seungmin decided to head over to Jeongin’s apartment.

“I’m going to the gym,” Jeongin said, when Seungmin let himself in.

“Fine,” Seungmin said. He looked down at what he was wearing. It would do. “Let’s go.”

“Really?” Jeongin asked suspiciously.

“Oh, come on,” Seungmin said. “I work out.”

“If you say so,” Jeongin said.

They sang along to the music as Jeongin drove them to the gym. When Seungmin had asked if Jeongin wanted to talk about it, he gave a flat look in response. Seungmin held up his hands.

At the gym, while Jeongin made a beeline for the weight racks, Seungmin settled himself on a stationary bike, scrolling through his phone as he absently peddled.

His phone buzzed with a text.

It was an image from Minho. Two to-go coffee cups sitting on a sunlit table at a cafe Seungmin didn’t immediately recognize.

Minho
We had to sit at 3 different tables to find the perfect spot

Seungmin had no idea what to do with that.

Glad you're having fun, he typed out. Deleted it. I thought coffee was our thing.

Deleted that one too.

His finger hovered over the send button for what was frankly a ridiculous amount of time. He was being ridiculous. He sent the message.

Seungmin
Fun!!!

Minho sent a thumbs up back.

He and Jeongin finished their workouts.

“One more take.”

“No,” Chan said.

There was a tightness in Seungmin’s chest. He had been in the booth for a long time. Much longer than his current schedule. It was one of those days where his voice wouldn’t cooperate, didn’t sound like his own. The longer he pushed it, the worse he sounded, but Seungmin knew he could get it right. Knew he needed to get it right.

“Hyung, come on. Just one more,” he said, not budging.

“You said one more take 45 minutes ago,” Chan said, leaning over so he could speak directly into the mic. “Come out of the booth.”

Seungmin shook his head. The tightness was crawling up his throat now in a way he knew would make it impossible to sing his best. Still, he dug his heels in, unable to let it go. “I know I can do it better, just one more.”

“I want a break,” Chan said. “You can stay there, but I won’t be. Everyone else went home.”

Seungmin sighed. He stayed where he was a moment longer out of sheer stubbornness, before he pulled the headphones off and hooked them over the micstand. When he finally did step out of the booth, Chan was gone.

Minho was sprawled out on the couch, legs spread and one arm tucked behind his neck. Seungmin’s shoulders dropped and he stopped in his tracks.

“Hi,” he said.

Minho smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Seungmin asked.

Minho’s t-shirt had ridden up just enough to expose a strip of skin above his waistband. The dark trail of hair stood in stark contrast to his pale skin, and Seungmin’s fingers itched to reach out and touch.

“Chan called for reinforcements,” Minho said.

Seungmin’s eyes snapped up to his face, and he felt himself flush. “He didn’t need to do that.”

“He did,” Minho said, as he slowly sat up. “You were being stubborn.”

“How long have you been here?”

Minho shrugged. “An hour or so.”

“An hour!”

“You should have come out sooner, pup,” he said. “We could have been making our own music this whole time.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Come here,” Minho said, holding out his arm. “I’ll explain it to you.”

Seungmin crossed the room, and perched at the edge of the couch. Minho rolled his eyes, and reached out, grabbing Seungmin by the waist and hauling him closer. Seungmin squawked, but somehow ended up on Minho’s lap.

He opened his mouth to complain, but Minho held up his hand and slowly pushed Seungmin’s hair out of his face, watching him closely.

Seungmin closed his mouth so quickly he heard his teeth click.

“What’s the matter?” Minho asked. “You usually only get like this if there’s something on your mind.”

Minho’s eyes were wide and sincere. His hair and face were clear of any products. He was soft and open, an invitation Seungmin desperately wanted to accept, if only he could speak. His voice was not his own, not today.

“Like what?” Seungmin asked.

“Picky.” Minho paused. “Pickier. I heard your takes, they were all amazing. Chan hyung thought so, so did everyone else. You kept pressing.”

Seungmin closed his eyes, and Minho carded his fingers through his hair. He brought his other hand up to cup Seungmin’s face, and Seungmin—horrifyingly—felt tears prickle behind his closed lids.

He hated that Minho was right, hated that he knew Seungmin well enough to see what was going on, but somehow couldn’t see the reason behind it. Hated that Seungmin knew what that reason was, and that he was weak enough to let it bother him. Worse, that he had taken it out on everyone else.

“I just wanted it to be right,” he whispered.

“Tell hyung,” Minho said. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

What could he even say? I want you to love me. I want you to love me most. He couldn’t. It was unfair to Minho. Selfish.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Minho raised his eyebrow.

“I’m just in my head a bit, I guess,” he admitted.

“Oh yeah? What’s got that pretty head in a knot?” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against Seungmin’s mouth. “Tell me, hyung will make it better.”

“I’m really fine,” he said.

Minho sighed, then kissed him again. Another slow press of lips, the hint of tongue. He held Seungmin’s face as he did it. It felt like the rest of the world dropped away.

“I don’t believe you,” Minho whispered, close enough their lips brushed as he did.

“Really,” Seungmin said. “I’m fine.” In this moment, he could even almost believe it.

Minho searched his eyes.

“Maybe another kiss would help,” Seungmin said, half distraction, half truth.

Minho smiled at that. “Is that all?”

“To start,” Seungmin said.

Minho tilted Seungmin’s head back, and Seungmin let his eyes fall shut again as he waited to be kissed. He could feel each exhale as Minho hovered, waiting for Seungmin didn’t know what.

“Seungminnie…”

An involuntary whine escaped, and Minho’s grip tightened on him before his mouth finally met Seungmin’s. The kiss was firm, not rough, not that, but there was a certainty to the way Minho held him, touched him, that had Seungmin melting into it.

Minho’s tongue swept along his lower lip, and Seungmin opened his mouth to the kiss. Minho’s hands slid down, over Seungmin’s shoulders and back and gripped his waist, pulling them flush against each other. Minho was strong and sturdy below him, hands tight on around his body. Seungmin relaxed into his hold, even as Minho kissed him deeper, licking across Seungmin’s teeth.

Seungmin wrapped his around around Minho’s shoulders, pulled him closer.

“Hyung,” he groaned.

“I got you, jagi,” Minho said. “It’s okay, it’s all okay.”

Seungmin whimpered into his mouth, and Minho kissed him again, tongue thrusting deep in Seungmin’s mouth.

Minho’s mouth drifted across his jaw, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin on his neck, behind his ear. “I’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

Seungmin nodded, then shook his head, not sure how he felt or what Minho was saying, why he was saying it.

“Tell me,” Minho said. “Seungmin, tell hyung.”

“I—” Seungmin gasped. “I—”

A knock on the door had Seungmin jerking in Minho’s hold. The two of them turned as the door opened slowly, and Seungmin quickly slid off Minho’s lap.

“Oh good,” their manager said when he poked his head in. “I was hoping to find you.”

“Me?” Minho asked. He cleared his throat, eyes flickering briefly towards Seungmin, then back to their manager.

“Yeah. We need you for a Tiktok filming. Han’s waiting.”

Seungmin slid further down the couch, putting space between them. His back and shoulders felt locked up. His hands gripped the cushion beneath him.

“Uh,” Minho said. “Um, yes. Sure. Of course.” He glanced at Seungmin, overtly this time.

Seungmin took a deep breath. It was okay. Minho said it was all okay, and Seungmin could force himself to believe it. It was just a Tiktok. This was normal. This was part of their job, common. It didn’t mean anything about him, or about them. They could go film and then go home, or to get a meal. He exhaled slowly.

He stood.

“Oh,” the manager said, looking at Seungmin. “Just Minho, for today. I think we have something for you later this week.”

Seungmin sat back down.

“You could come,” Minho said. “I’m sure it won’t take long.”

He held out his hand, and for a moment Seungmin let his earlier thought play out. He grasped Minho’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. Minho smiled.

Seungmin let go and forced a smile. “Ah, no,” Seungmin said. “No worries. I’ll see you later, hyung.”

“Okay, Seungminnie,” Minho said, looking down. “Sure. I’ll text you later.”

Their manager ushered Minho out the door before Seungmin had a chance to respond.

Seungmin sat there for a long moment. Maybe Chan would come back if he asked.

The next few days passed in a blur of schedule, recording, and spending time with Minho. Seungmin spent four nights in a row at Minho’s dorm, too busy, too exhausted to get in his head about much of anything.

On the fifth day, Seungmin had another recording session. He had pestered Chan until he agreed to give him more studio time under the condition that he would listen when Chan said they had gotten the take.

As soon as he got in the booth, Seungmin knew he would not be able to abide by that promise.

Chan kicked him out after two hours.

He didn’t put it like that, of course. He told Seungmin they had what they needed, and cajoled, pouted, and prodded until Seungmin left feeling tight and frustrated.

When Minho texted him to come over, Seungmin didn’t even care if Chan had sold him out. He was just relieved to have direction to follow.

He let himself into the dorm to the sound of laughter. He stood in the entryway, alone, listening to Minho and Jisung laughing and talking. He waited, thinking Minho would have heard him come in, that he would come say hello, give Seungmin a hug, tell him again that everything was okay.

Finally, he appeared.

“Why are you lurking in the doorway?” Minho asked.

The pressure built up higher inside him. “Hi,” he said, shortly.

Minho rolled his eyes. “Hello to you too, mong mong.”

Seungmin put his shoes away and hung up his jacket. He followed Minho into the main room and sat down on the couch.

“So anyway—” Jisung started up again, as if Seungmin wasn’t even there. As if it didn’t matter that Seungmin was there, and apparently it didn't. He may as well not have been, for all it mattered. Why had Minho invited him over anyway? They were clearly busy, in the middle of their own thing. But he had invited Seungmin, and he didn't say that Jisung was here or that it would be a group thing. Maybe Seungmin should have asked Minho to clarify but why did Jisung have to be here when Seungmin just wanted a hug?

“Why is he here?” Seungmin asked. His voice was sharp. Mean.

The two of them stopped talking immediately and turned to look at Seungmin. He wanted to disappear, but instead he forced his shoulders back.

“I live here,” Jisung said, voice small and hurt.

Immediately Seungmin felt like an asshole.

“Jisung…” he said. He needed to apologize. Wanted to, even. The words felt heavy and thick in his throat, and he didn't know how to get them out in a way that would be sincere and accurate.

Jisung stood. “I'll give you guys some privacy,” he said.

The two of them watched him cross the apartment and disappear behind his closed bedroom door.

Seungmin sat down on the couch. “Shit,” he said.

“What the hell?” Minho asked.

“I know,” Seungmin said.

“No,” Minho said. “What the hell was that? You know he's sensitive, you can't just—”

“I know,” Seungmin said, feeling tangled up in frustrated and guilty knots.

“He lives here.”

“I said I know.” He did. He knew he was out of line. He knew he was short tempered, and even if he was upset, it wasn’t okay to take that upset out on Jisung for simply being in his own home when Seungmin had the audacity to want a hug. He just wished Minho had given him a head’s up.

“He's allowed to be here.”

It didn’t matter what Seungmin wanted. Seungmin stood. He couldn't deal with this right now.

“What, you're just going?”

“You obviously would rather spend time with him, I'll just go—”

“Are you jealous?” Minho asked.

Seungmin shoved his feet into his shoes, not bothering to respond. There was no need, after all. It was obvious.

“You are? That's what this is about? He's my roommate—”

“Exactly!” Seungmin shouted.

Minho stared at him like Seungmin had grown another head.

“He's your roommate! You spend all your time together.”

“So what, you want me to stop?”

“No!” Seungmin said. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You see him all the time. At schedule, at the studio, at home. You live together! I just want—” He paused, but what the fuck, why shouldn't he say it. “I want to spend time just the two of us sometimes.”

“We do.”

“Even when it's just us, you're on your phone texting him, you always talk to him…” he trailed off but Minho didn't say anything. Seungmin finally turned to look at him. His face was closed off, and he had his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

What did Seungmin want? He wanted to feel like he mattered. Was that so much to ask? He wanted just a bit of Minho's attention, and more than that he wanted to feel like Minho wanted to give it to him.

“I don't know! Can you not act like I'm crazy, please?”

“He's the person I talk to,” Minho said.

The impact of those words seemed to hang between them. He felt them hit him in the chest and burrow deep into his body. It was the truth Seungmin had been hiding from this entire time, the thing he had known but hadn’t wanted to accept.

He nodded. “Wow. Okay.”

“He's my person,” Minho said.

Another blow. “Got it.” Seungmin ducked his head, and wiped his eyes.

“Wait—”

“No need,” Seungmin said, voice barely there. “I'm gonna go.”

Minho didn't stop him, and that was just about what he expected.

His dorm was empty when he got home. Seungmin didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. At least he wouldn't have to explain to Felix what a childish asshole he had been, but when he sat down on the couch surrounded by silence he knew it wasn't going to cut it.

Seungmin
Are you home?

Jeongin
Yeah me and Felix hyung are waiting for Chan to finish up at the studio and order some dinner. Wanna join?

Seungmin thought about it, but being around all three of them sounded like more than he was prepared to deal with.

Seungmin
No but can you come over? I'll buy dinner.

There was a long pause. Probably Jeongin and Felix trying to figure out what was up with him. He should feel some kind of way about that, probably, but he just felt kind of empty.

Jeongin
Omw

While he waited, Seungmin ordered food and tidied up a little. Not that there was much to do, it was obvious that Chan had been spending time here the last few days.

When Jeongin let himself into the apartment, Seungmin was just standing in the middle of the kitchen staring blankly at the wall.

“Woah,” Jeongin said. “What's up?”

He took Seungmin's hand and guided him to the couch, a sure sign that things were much worse than Seungmin thought.

“I've been a huge asshole,” Seungmin said.

“Worse than normal?” Jeongin asked with a smile.

Seungmin put his face in his hands. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Jeongin said. “Tell me.”

Seungmin did. He told Jeongin what happened at Minho and Jisung’s dorm, how he felt the last couple days, or months, really. How the jealousy was eating him up inside even though he knew he had no right to feel that way, there was no reason to feel like this, he was being ridiculous, illogical. How he just wanted some of Minho's attention and how terrible and selfish that made him feel. How he tried and tried to work it out and let it go, how he failed. Everything he had kept inside just spilled out of him, word after word finally breaking free.

“Wow,” Jeongin said when he finally stopped.

His plate was empty of the food he'd eaten while Seungmin spoke. Seungmin's own meal sat untouched in front of him.

Seungmin groaned. “I know.”

“Well, first I do think you owe Jisung an apology.”

Seungmin nodded. He knew that as soon as the words came out of his lips.

“But I think Minho hyung owes you one too.”

Seungmin had started to take a bite of his dinner. He put his chopsticks down. “What? But I'm the one who…”

“I mean yeah you've been kind of a brat about it, but it's not cool for hyung to just ignore what you need.”

“I don't think he was doing that,” Seungmin said.

“Maybe not on purpose, and you definitely didn't make it easy on either one of you—”

Seungmin shoved him, knocking their shoulders together. His laugh sounded a little watery, and he wiped his eyes.

“I don't know how to make it easy,” he said, chin tucked against his chest. “Maybe it's not worth it. For him.”

“Ah, hyung,” Jeongin said. “But what if it is?”

He held his arm out and Seungmin let himself be pulled into an awkward side hug. Was it worth it to be with Minho when he would always be second to Minho's person? It would be, of course. If Seungmin could live with that, surely Minho could learn how to live with Seungmin's prickily, jealous ass.

He nodded. “Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about your stuff?” Seungmin asked.

“I'd rather die.”

Seungmin huffed out a laugh.

“If you tell anyone I hugged you, I'll deny it,” Jeongin said.

Seungmin laughed for real. “Deal.”

“Hyung isn't here,” Jisung said when he opened the door.

Seungmin nodded. “I'm actually here to see you.”

Jisung looked surprised at that. “Uh,” he said. “Sure, come in.”

They sat in the kitchen. Jisung was fidgeting, eyes flickering around the room.

“I'm really sorry,” Seungmin said.

“Oh,” Jisung said. “Thanks. It's okay.”

“It's not,” Seungmin said. “I was in a bad mood, I probably shouldn't have been here at all, let alone taking it out on you and I definitely shouldn't have said that, of course this is your home and you have every right to be here. I'm just a guest, and I shouldn't take my bad mood out on you, especially when it has nothing to do with you.”

Jisung looked at him, then slowly nodded. “I appreciate you saying that, but you're not just a guest, come on. I think we both know it has something to do with me.”

Seungmin felt his face burn with shame, and part of him wished he could reassure Jisung that no, of course it didn't. Wished he could at least lie. They had known each other too long for that, and at the very least Seungmin owed him the truth.

“Alright,” he admitted. He tried to smile as he said it, hoping to reassure Jisung. “Maybe it does, but that's for me to deal with. That's my problem, and it's not because of anything you did, you know? It's me.”

“‘It's not you, it's me’?” he said in English, making a skeptical face.

Seungmin let out a genuine laugh. “But it is though!”

Jisung watched him closely for a moment. “Listen, I think it's probably for the best if I don't get in the middle of whatever you and hyung have going on, but I know my relationship with hyung is a lot.”

Seungmin picked a piece of lint off his pants. “It's a bit… yeah. A lot, I guess. I didn't want to make you feel bad about that, but I think I did and I'm sorry for that.”

Jisung reached out and squeezed Seungmin's hand. “It's okay. My feelings were hurt but I kind of get it too. Maybe not all the way, but—” He shrugged.

“I used to think you and hyung would end up together.” Jisung made a distressed face. “Not now! I know you and Jeongin have your thing or whatever it is…” He trailed off as Jisung’s face looked more and more concerned.

“But you and hyung have been a thing way longer than whatever Jeongin and I have going on.”

“Oh,” Seungmin said. “Yeah, I dunno. I guess I just thought maybe? I wasn't sure.”

“Seungmin…” Jisung said. “Does hyung know you feel like this?”

Seungmin looked down. He didn't know how he ended up here when he came to apologize. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure you knew I was wrong for the way I spoke to you yesterday, and I won't do it again.”

Jisung looked so sad. This had to be the worst ever apology. “Can I please give you a hug?” he asked.

Seungmin nodded, not quite trusting his voice, and Jisung stepped close enough to wrap his arms around Seungmin, giving him a long squeeze.

“Alright, well,” Seungmin said when that had gone on long enough. “I should probably—”

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Minho's appearance in the kitchen.

“Hyung!” Jisung said. “You're back.”

“I'm back.”

No one said anything for a moment. From the corner of his eye, Seungmin saw Jisung looking back and forth between them. He couldn't bring himself to look at Minho.

“I was just leaving—”

“I'll give you two some privacy.”

He and Jisung spoke at the same time. Jisung watched them for another moment before jumping up. They could hear him in the front entrance and then the door to the apartment shut, leaving Seungmin and Minho standing in an awkward silence.

“I really was about to leave,” Seungmin said when it became apparent Minho wasn't going to speak to him. He waited another moment. “Alright, I'll—”

“Are you here to break up with me?”

Seungmin's eyes shot to Minho's face. His jaw was clenched and he was looking down at his hand tracing aimless patterns on the kitchen counter.

“Uh,” Seungmin said, genuinely shocked. “No. I wasn't planning on it.”

Minho didn't say anything.

Seungmin hadn't even considered the possibility that Minho would want to break up. Fuck, was that what he wanted? Seungmin knew he had messed up, but surely it wasn't that bad. He had already apologized to Jisung, after all, he accepted that he didn't mean as much to Minho as Minho meant to him, was all of that for nothing?

He swallowed down the ache in his throat. “Do you… want to break up?”

“No!”

“Okay. Me neither.”

Minho nodded once.

It would be easy to move on. To have everything be fine through sheer will alone. Seungmin thought about Jeongin asking what if it was worth it. Thought about the many times Minho asked Seungmin to let him fix it. It wasn't easy to say how he felt, but keeping quiet and hoping for the best wasn't exactly working either.

“I apologized to Jisung,” he said, thinking over his words carefully. “It wasn't fair of me to speak to him like that, and I won't do it again.”

Minho nodded. “Okay,” he said.

He looked wary and Seungmin supposed he deserved that.

“I know Jisung is the most important person, for you, and I can respect that. I just—” He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Why was this so hard? Just say it. “I just want to be in your top five, and maybe sometimes when we're together it can just be us. It doesn't have to be all the time! Or even most of the time. I just… I love you. I want to be around you and have your attention sometimes.”

Sometime during his rambling, Minho had turned his face away. He was looking down and Seungmin couldn't see enough to guess what he was thinking. The silence stretched excruciatingly long. This was why Seungmin preferred to keep his feelings to himself. “If you're okay with that,” he finished lamely.

“Jisung isn't the most important person to me.”

“Fine, your mom or whoever. Hyung, that's not really the point—”

“Is that really what you think?”

He looked up, finally, and Seungmin dropped down into an involuntary crouch. Minho's eyes were wet with unshed tears. He knelt down in front of Seungmin, and cupped his face.

“That’s what you told me,” Seungmin said.

Minho sat down on the floor. He didn't understand why Minho was upset. Seungmin thought he'd be happy, or at least relieved.

“Hyung, it's okay, I get it—”

“You don't, and if you had just asked me when I told you to—”

“I know that, that's what I'm saying—”

“You're the most important person to me.”

He paused, trying to make sense of this new information. It didn't match with… anything basically, not Minho's actions or his own words. Seungmin had been fighting himself this entire time, trying to make himself okay with how Minho felt, and now apparently that wasn't even true? No, much more likely that Minho was simply telling him what he thought Seungmin would want to hear. “You don't have to say that, that's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm okay with it.”

“Kim Seungmin, I swear if you don't shut up so I can tell you I love you too.”

Seungmin dropped down, ass hitting the floor with a dull thud. “But you said…”

“I know what I said.” Minho sighed. “I'm sorry, jagi.”

“Hyung,” Seungmin said, shaking his head. His mind was racing as he tried to make this new information fit with what he thought was the truth. “You… I… I don't understand.”

“I thought a lot about what you said,” Minho told him. “I think I got used to things being a certain way. It was a comfortable habit, and I was just acting that way because that's what I'm used to. I didn't think about why things got to be like that, or if it still made sense.”

He and Minho were both creatures of habit. Seungmin didn't have to explain to Minho that he was doing something a certain way because that was how he always did it, and he liked it that way. Minho understood. Sometimes Seungmin got so used to things being a certain way, he didn't question it, and if it wasn't spelled out explicitly he didn't always understand it either.

He searched Minho's face. “I don't know what to say.”

“Remember when things were really bad?” Minho asked. “With Jisung?”

“Of course.” It would be hard not to. Between Jisung and Chan, the eight of them had been holding on by their fingertips. They had all tried to pick up the slack, but Seungmin knew that a lot of the load had fallen on Minho.

“There were times I was really scared he wasn't going to make it,” Minho said.

Tears sprung to Seungmin's eyes. He reached out and grabbed Minho's hand, squeezing tightly. He was pretty sure they had all thought that at one point or another.

“I think I just got so used to him needing me. He needed me for so much. I won't say I liked it, but it just became a part of me, almost. He's better now, and I'm so fucking glad, Seungmin, but I don't think I ever really thought about what it meant for him to be better… for me. I was the person he needed and I think I got lost a little bit in that.”

“Hyung…” Looking back, Seungmin could see exactly what Minho meant. He lost count of the number of times he woke up at the old dorm to Jisung in Minho's bed. The way Minho would get him out of the dorm, get him to their schedules. They'd all helped, but it had been mostly Minho.

“And then we moved in together and even though a lot changed, even though he didn't need me so much anymore, it was just how we were.”

Seungmin was never going to fault Minho for what he did to get Jisung, get them all through that time. “And that's fine, really—”

“It's not fine if it hurts you!”

Seungmin looked at Minho with wide eyes.

“I know the way I acted hurt you,” he said, giving Seungmin's hand another squeeze. “It kills me when you won't tell me how to fix things. If you just tell me, I'll do anything.”

Seungmin lifted their intertwined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Minho's palm. “I think I'm really bad at that.”

They both chuckled.

“The Seungmin I know doesn't let himself be bad at anything,” Minho said. “It's kind of annoying.”

Seungmin leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Minho's shoulder. “I want your attention, but sometimes I feel like I don't deserve it,” he whispered. “I just want to be good enough.” He looked up. “For you.”

“Oh, puppy,” Minho said. He cupped Seungmin's jaw. “My good puppy.”

Seungmin whimpered.

“Shh,” Minho said, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to Seungmin's.

He had stopped tracking the number of times they kissed somewhere in the hundreds. From there, he moved to classification. A hello kiss. A horny kiss. An exasperated kiss. A see you later kiss. A you need to shut up kiss. A fond kiss.

This was none of those.

It had elements of past kisses, definitely, but there was something unique to it too.

After a moment, Minho stood, holding out an arm. Seungmin took it, and Minho pulled him to his feet, then led him to the bedroom. He closed the door behind him.

“Will you please tell me?” Minho asked.

“Hyung…” Seungmin said, uncertain exactly what he was being asked.

“What do you want? Tell me. Please.”

Seungmin took a deep breath, holding it in his chest. He let desire—and all the words he pushed down in the past—expand in his chest until they filled him to the brim.

“I want you,” he said, the words almost choking him.

For only a second, Minho looked crestfallen. Then he nodded.

“No,” Seungmin said. He reached out to grab Minho, desperate to be understood.

“I want you… to choose. I want you to decide what to do.” He paused, choosing his words carefully, willing Minho to understand. “And what I do.”

Minho's face softened, even as his eyes darkened. He reached out, grabbing Seungmin by the back of the neck, and tugging him until they were standing chest to chest.

“That's what you want?” he asked, eyes searching Seungmin's face.

He nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips. “Yes, please, hyung. I want you to use me however you want.”

Minho kissed him again, that same new type, then pulled back far enough to give him a little shove.

“Take off your clothes,” he said. “And get on the bed.”

He watched Seungmin, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows raised.

Seungmin shed all his clothes and scrambled onto the bed, kneeling in the centre.

“That's it,” Minho said. “All you have to do is what you're told. Let hyung take care of everything.”

He walked slowly across the room until he was standing at the foot of the bed, then pulled his shirt off over his head. He watched for another long moment, and Seungmin fought the urge to fidget. Minho pushed his pants down, letting them pool at his feet, before stepping clear of the garment. Minho's eyes were dark and deep, and Seungmin felt more exposed than his mere nakedness could explain.

He reached a hand out, and Minho smiled at him.

“You're going to let hyung take care of everything, aren't you?” he asked. He took Seungmin's hand as he crawled onto the bed himself, until Seungmin was laid out on his back with Minho settled between his open thighs.

“I said aren't you, puppy?”

Seungmin nodded, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. “Yes, hyung,” he whispered.

Minho smiled again. “Good boy. My good, good boy.”

He brushed Seungmin's bangs away from his face, then put his hand on Seungmin's throat.

He just laid it there gently. It wasn't pressing or squeezing, and yet Seungmin felt everything inside him unspool quickly, like water pouring through a sieve. Then Minho ran his hands up and down Seungmin's arms, his stomach, his flank, just touching him gently everywhere he could reach. As Minho touched him—fingers pressing into muscle or lightly brushing against sensitive skin—Seungmin could feel himself relaxing further into the bed. He should touch Minho back, do something to make him feel as good as he was making Seungmin feel.

He lifted one hand off the bed. Minho twisted their fingers together, pressing him back down. “None of that, puppy,” he said.

Some further string that was holding Seungmin together untied, the ends quickly slipping from his grasp. He pressed into Minho’s hold, testing his strength.

Minho was solid, fingers squeezing firm. Holding him tight.

“You want hyung to decide, right?” he asked, eyes soft, but certain.

Seungmin nodded. “Please,” he said.

“Then let me,” he said.

Letting go was simple after that. Minho's hands continued to caress his body, now with his lips added into the mix. They lingered on his neck, biting and sucking, before working down his body to his nipples. Minho's fingers tweaked the hard buds causing Seungmin to cry out.

He felt totally surrounded by Minho. He felt folded into Minho's protective bubble. Everywhere Minho touched him felt infused with Minho's attention, his care. Seungmin's mind kept drifting, only to be called back when Minho would touch another place on his body. Each time he sought Minho's eyes, Seungmin found him watching with avid hunger.

“You're so beautiful,” Minho said, tongue running along the crease of Seungmin's hip. “Turn over for me.”

When his limbs felt too heavy, Minho helped position him on his hands and knees. Seungmin expected Minho to reach for the lube, instead his fingers dug into Seungmin's ass, spreading his cheeks.

The hot wet press of Minho's tongue on his hole had Seungmin sinking deeper, a low moan escaping his mouth.

“That's it,” Minho said. “That's it, let go, puppy. Hyung has you, I have you Seungminnie, all you need to do is feel good and let hyung use you, just as I want.”

It was everything Seungmin wanted. Everything he had been scared to say out loud, to ask for. The potency of his desires materialized had tears springing to the corners of his eyes. Minho's attention was intense, Seungmin had always known as much, but experiencing it fully was so powerfully pleasurable it was spilling out of his mouth, his eyes, his pores.

Minho's mouth was hot. His tongue licked over his hole again and again. He could feel spit dropping down his taint, his balls. Minho was relentless, tongue starving for contact, licking harder, deeper, wetter.

Seungmin wasn't sure how long he hung like that, absolutely at the mercy of Minho's mouth on his ass. At some point he registered the feeling of a finger working itself inside him, then another. He was making noise, he could hear himself whining and grunting with each press of Minho's fingers on his prostate, every time Minho applied suction directly to his hole.

He fought it. He wanted this more than anything, and yet still he fought it. This was everything he wanted, but what about Minho? It was reasonable to expect to get something in return from your partner, to have them do something—anything—more than just lie there.

So he tried. Again and again, he lifted his hands, reached for Minho. Every time he tried to twist out of the position Minho put him in, each time he tried to touch Minho, to reciprocate the pleasure, Minho held him down harder, pressed him harder into the bed.

“Let go,” he said again and again. “Let go, you stubborn fucking dog—”

The last words were cut off as Minho finally—finally!—pressed the head of his cock to Seungmin's hole, soft and malleable from Minho's tongue.

“Oh god,” Seungmin groaned.

“Are you going to finally let me give you what you want?”

Seungmin nodded, then shook his head, feeling completely overwhelmed. “Hyung,” he gasped. “I want—Please—”

Minho pushed inside him in one smooth thrust. They groaned together, and Minho leaned over the long line of Seungmin's body to press a kiss at the top of his spine.

“Nothing makes me happier than giving you what you want,” Minho said, pressing the words into Seungmin's sweaty skin.

“Oh god, hyung,” Seungmin gasped.

Minho moved his hips, starting up a slow targeted pace. Each stroke had Seungmin shuddering, clawing at the sheets. Minho was relentless, fucking, fucking, fucking. After a moment, Minho's voice trickled through his consciousness.

“Please,” he said. “Please, please, please.”

He kept chanting it, fingers gripping tightly at Seungmin's hips. His movements were frantic, jerky. His body was showing Seungmin something he had never considered, or perhaps more accurately, never allowed himself to believe.

Seungmin loved Minho.

Minho said he cared about Seungmin, that he wanted to take care of him, that he loved Seungmin too.

Maybe Seungmin could let himself believe it was true.

“Hyung,” he gasped. “You love me?”

Minho groaned. “I do, I do. I love you, Seungminnie. I love you so much.”

“Me too,” Seungmin gasped. “Me too, love you too.”

Minho pressed his face into the base of Seungmin's neck, and then there wasn't any more talking, just the sound of their bodies moving together. Seungmin's chest and shoulders dropped down to the mattress as Minho continued to move inside of him hard and fast. All Seungmin had to do was take it. All he needed was to let Minho pour into him.

Eventually Minho reached under his body, gripping Seungmin's cock tight in his fist. Just that, just holding him, fingers hot and slippery on Seungmin's heated skin. His orgasm built at the base of his spine, growing, spreading outward, until Seungmin's entire body was tight with pleasure.

“Hyung, I'm—”

“Yes,” Minho gasped. “Yes, yes yes.”

That was it. He spilled over Minho's hand and the sheets beneath him, entire body squeezing every last drop of pleasure out of him. Above him, Minho followed with a low grunt and they lay there tangled, just breathing.

After a moment, Minho rolled off him. Seungmin lifted his arms and stretched his entire body, as Minho padded across the room and out into the hall. The faucet turned on and then off again. Seungmin could hear Minho walking around the dorm turning off all the lights. In a minute he would go wash up.

Minho returned a moment later and sat on the edge of the mattress. In his hand he had a warm damp cloth that he ran gently across Seungmin's stomach and thighs.

“Thanks,” Seungmin said.

He tilted his head and Minho leaned over to press a soft kiss to his mouth. The cloth was tossed aside in the direction of the laundry hamper, and then Minho was climbing into bed with him, getting them both settled under the covers.

“How are you?” Minho asked, when he had them settled to his satisfaction.

Seungmin thought about it for a second, then told Minho how he felt.

In the morning when Chan texted to say he had some extra studio time lined up if Seungmin wanted to swing by, he dragged Minho out of bed and into the company.

“You ready?” Minho asked before he stepped into the booth.

“I'm ready.”

He knocked it out in one take.