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Seungmin's in the middle of putting in his earphones when the door to the van slides open, Minho's face peering in not a second later. He squints at Seungmin, draped in the shadows with the feeble yellow light barely illuminating the soft smile he greets Minho with.
Minho returns the gesture with a grin, far too sharp and cheeky to match Seungmin's. That should've been the first hint for what the remainder of the night would entail, yet it completely flies over Seungmin's head the moment Minho climbs into the van, taking the seat beside him.
"Where's hyung?" Seungmin asks, referring to their manager. He'd unlocked the car and left the air conditioning on before mumbling about some business he had to do while they waited for Minho to get back.
Minho responds by chucking a bottle of plum juice at him, something he'd no doubt procured from his quick venture to the vending machine just outside the radio station.
As Seungmin fumbles with the bottle, Minho snorts, "He's still busy trying to sweet talk one of the staff into giving him her number. It's embarrassing, really. The things people do just to get laid."
Seungmin, with his phone and earphones now set aside so he can enjoy both the plum juice and Minho in all his fluffy, ruffled glory, smiles after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yeah? Like buying someone a drink when they didn't even ask–"
Minho is quick to snap at him, the venom in his voice cushioned by the pout of his lips when he says, "One more word and I'll have you choking out every single drop."
Seungmin flashes him a winning smile, eyes bunching into half-crescents that has Minho huffing in that exaggerated way of his whenever he's feeling fond. It's one of his many endearing habits that Seungmin likes teasing out of him, keeping a private list on how to push Minho's buttons just the right way to elicit certain responses.
Just as he's about to poke at another sore spot, this time regarding his victory for today's Dekira episode, Minho cranes his neck this way and that, seemingly scoping the area outside. Then, eyes now sparkling with equal parts mischief and mayhem, Minho levels him with another grin, teeth bared like he's ready to pounce.
"Actually, now that you mention it..." he leans closer, the loose collar of his purple sweater dipping in the process. The white shirt he's wearing underneath doesn't deter Seungmin's imagination in the slightest; if anything, it adds to the fantasy of unwrapping Minho of all his layers in this tiny, enclosed space, the tinted car windows their only means of privacy.
Then as if stoking the flames to an already dangerously growing fire, Minho suddenly lays a warm, deliberate hand on Seungmin's thigh, squeezing once as he continues, "how about I sweet talk you into letting me suck your dick?"
The response is immediate; Seungmin promptly chokes on air he didn't even know he was holding in, thumping his chest once, twice, thrice until he's red-faced. Minho is just about to draw back, his expression morphing into concern, when Seungmin manages to wheeze out, "You mean now?"
In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best response if Seungmin were trying to curb Minho and his efforts on getting some tonight, but as it is right now, Seungmin's subconscious seems to have taken the reins and unlocked the part of his brain that, coincidentally, also wanted to get some tonight.
"Well, yeah," Minho's eyes sparkle in a way one could liken to supernovas going off in succession. Seungmin swallows thickly, winded by both the sight and proposition when Minho continues, "you did so good tonight, Seungminnie. I think you deserve a reward for that, hm?"
It should be easy. It should be easy for Seungmin to turn him down, to resist and to plug his earphones in to block out the rest of Minho's siren song. It should be easy, because there are so many ways this could go wrong– getting caught by their manager, being filmed by looming paparazzi (or even worse, stalkers), hell, even leaving stains on the car seat– but then Minho squeezes his thigh again, leveling Seungmin with a gaze that's all filth and heat, and suddenly it's startlingly clear: in the cramped space of this dimly-lit van, there is no room for logic or reason, not when Minho's looking at him like that, long eyelashes downcast, a challenge and a promise combined in his heavy gaze.
Seungmin curses under his breath and drags Minho in by the collar, stretching the fabric as he catches Minho's bottom lip with his teeth and nips on it, hard.
"Mmph–" He swallows the rest of Minho's cry with a bruising kiss, well-aware of the faint taste of plum juice that he licks into Minho's mouth. Then he's pulling away, pressing urgent kisses at the pronounced line of his jaw, trailing across flushed skin until he reaches the delicate shell of Minho's ear.
"Hyung," Seungmin pants, knows just how deep his voice must sound in this proximity, lips brushing over the pinkened flesh of Minho's earlobe. "make it quick."
It's reckless. It's reckless and dangerous and could cost so much more than the gratification Seungmin gets when Minho starts palming him through his jeans, but now, with this pretty boy and his pretty eyes and his pretty mouth making all sorts of pretty noises as Seungmin starts sucking on his earlobe, he finds that he truly, sincerely, honestly cannot give a shit.
And it's only fair– Seungmin reasons with himself as Minho turns to face him, knees digging into the divider separating their seats as he unzips Seungmin's fly– it's only fair that he gets to have this when he's been squandering too-quick glances and feather-light touches up until this point.
"Fuck," Minho deftly pulls him out of the confines of his jeans, eyes round and lips parted as he takes in the sight of Seungmin's flushed, heavy cock. "you're so hard already."
Seungmin finds no shame in that, not when it's been weeks since they were this close, this intimate with each other, remapping each other's bodies with their hands and mouths during a rare afternoon when everyone else had ventured out of the dorm.
They're not afforded that same luxury now, however, so Seungmin takes to unlocking his seat belt instead. He angles his hips towards Minho, parting his thighs as he leans back to take in the sight before him.
First, it's Minho's eyes, dark and hooded, then it's the rest of him– the soft, glossy texture of his brown hair, the inviting O-shape of his mouth, the specks of fluff from his sweater that seems to go on for miles and miles, the fabric gathered around Minho's fist, brushing delicately against Seungmin's cock.
In another time, Seungmin would've spent an hour just kissing Minho senseless, swallowing each and every sound so it makes a home beneath his rib cage. Minho would be pliant one minute and biting in the next, giving just as much as Seungmin is taking from him. They'd be laying in pristine white sheets, limbs tangled together, no end point in sight as they roll around the bed and just kiss and laugh and kiss some more, and then when they're both lightheaded, delirious and drunk from the taste and feel of each other– that's when Seungmin would cup a tender hand around Minho's jaw, guiding him down down down until that beautiful mouth swallows him whole.
But that indulgence is for another day, because now– now, Minho leans over Seungmin's cock and spits over the head, rubbing it thoroughly around the slit before starting an urgent pace that has Seungmin shivering and grasping for leverage.
With one arm hooked around the headrest and his other hand pressed flat on the seat in front of him, Seungmin inhales sharply and braces himself as Minho hunches over his cock, winks at him all coy and faux-sweet before licking a stripe along the underside. He starts a series of kitten licks around the base and over the head, tonguing the slit just as Seungmin melts into his seat, boneless with pleasure.
"Eyes open, Seungminnie." Minho murmurs, breath hot around the sensitive head of his cock. It's enough to get Seungmin's eyes flying open, dazed as he cranes his neck down at a very flushed yet very smug Minho. "Hyung might come back any minute now."
The weight of this fact should be enough to soften Seungmin both figuratively and literally, but he must be more depraved than he initially took himself for, evident in the way his cock twitches and stiffens right in Minho's grip. The delighted grin Minho rewards him with only adds to the mortification, but Seungmin doesn't dare pull away and instead takes a quick scan of their surroundings.
"This is crazy," he whispers, sagging back into his seat as he jerks his head towards Minho, says in the same breath, "keep going, hyung."
Minho rolls his eyes but does exactly what he's told, folding his body over the gap to mouth around Seungmin this time, rubbing the wet head over the seam of his lips before he's parting them, Seungmin's length finally breaching soft, exquisite heat.
Seungmin grits his teeth through the mind-numbing sensation until he breaks off into an audible moan once Minho hollows his cheeks and sucks, the sound of it ricocheting across the narrow space of the van, obscene and downright filthy.
Reaching over with a shaky hand, Seungmin runs reverent fingers over Minho's cheek, desire spiking in his gut tenfold when Minho deliberately rubs his cockhead against the inside of his cheek so Seungmin can feel the exact shape of it.
"God, hyung." Seungmin pants, leaning back so Minho can start bobbing his head, sucking him in with each upward stroke while slowly taking in more and more of him with each downward motion. "you're amazing– feel so good, Minho– ah, baby–"
The shift seems to work wonders on Minho, spurred on by the pet name as he moans around Seungmin. He ducks his head, intent on swallowing most, if not all, of Seungmin down his throat, but he's immediately held back by Seungmin weakly croaking out, "Baby, you can't–"
Minho pulls off, confusion mixing in with the want in those tantalizingly dark eyes, yet his hand dutifully remains around Seungmin, stroking him in precise, even movements.
"You have vocal lessons tomorrow, remember?" Seungmin manages to stitch these words together purely out of concern, overtaking even his headiest thoughts of thrusting back into Minho's red, awaiting mouth. They're already risking too much as it is; Seungmin can't allow himself to tip the scales completely by fucking up Minho's throat, regardless of their mutual ache to do exactly that.
At this Minho softens, the corners of his mouth rounding off into a smitten smile as he tilts his head to one side, fond when he replies, "Nah. I swapped schedules with Innie so I'm set for Wednesday instead."
Seungmin blinks, then, for the lack of a better response, mumbles, "Oh..."
"Mhmm." Minho waggles his eyebrows, and it would almost look comical if not for the way his expression immediately darkens, forming a fist around Seungmin's cock to jerk him back to full hardness. "Now can I go back to sucking you off? Pretty please?"
Seungmin huffs out a laugh, embarrassed and exasperated and so helplessly in love, lets it show clear as day on his face as he settles back into his seat. He spares a cursory glance outside, nodding his assent once he deems the area manager-free.
Minho quickly takes him back into his mouth, moaning around the base of his cock like a starved man finally eating a full course meal. Seungmin flushes at Minho's desperation, equal parts flattered and aroused.
He eventually bridges the distance between them with a hand on Minho's jaw, his thumb tracing the stretch of Minho's mouth, groans when it comes away slick with both saliva and precum. Seungmin murmurs quiet praises in between, calls Minho lovely and gorgeous and perfect, so perfect until Minho's squirming and blushing from the tips of his ears down to his collarbones.
Just as Seungmin starts entertaining the thought of pushing his hips up into Minho's mouth, try to see if that makes him glow scarlet even more, he catches a flash of movement in his peripheral, and in the next second he feels his heart stutter to a halt before plummeting down his gut.
"Wait– baby, baby–" Seungmin tugs at Minho's hair, wincing inwardly when Minho whines, cock still suckled in his mouth. "hyung's coming back, we have to stop–"
Seungmin tries to wiggle his way out of Minho's grip, yet hours of cardio and weight lifting deems him no match for Minho's sudden display of strength.
"Hyung, I'm serious, we can't–" Seungmin chances another glance out the window, blood running cold when he estimates at least twenty more steps before their manager reaches the van.
In response to Seungmin's growing panic, Minho places his hands on either of Seungmin's thighs as a means of balancing himself before he starts bobbing his head, slurping noisily and swallowing wetly around the entire length of him.
The action knocks the air clean out of Seungmin, his mind fogging over from the fear and adrenaline and lust, permeating his senses until he's coming with a muffled shout, blindly biting down on his knuckles at the last second.
Minho completely stills once he manages to take as much of Seungmin into his mouth, tongue pressed right against the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. He makes quick work of milking Seungmin of his release, the flex of his jaw silhouetted in the low light as he sucks until the last feeble spurt, licks the head clean before he's pushing off Seungmin's lap.
Later, Seungmin will look back at this moment and swear that some higher force must've taken over his body as he swung his legs with an agility he didn't even know he possessed, leaning back to quickly tuck himself into his jeans just as their manager taps on the window twice, sliding the door open a second later.
"Hey boys," he greets, looking between Minho and Seungmin, no trace of suspicion in the way he regards them. "sorry about the wait."
Seungmin has to physically hold himself back from sagging with relief, instead nodding his head quickly as he replies, "It's okay, hyung."
And that could've been the end of it, except Minho decides to open his big, fat mouth and snap, clearly overcompensating, "So are we leaving, or what?"
Their manager has long become immune to Minho and the bouts of his sarcasm he brings into the team, but what has him raising his eyebrows is the very distinct crack of Minho's voice. He goes rigid for half a second before grabbing Seungmin's plum juice, downing the whole thing as a means of distraction.
"What did I tell you about overdoing it?" Their manager scolds, clearly referring to their radio show stint, yet that doesn't stop both Minho and Seungmin from flinching, their faces burning in the aftermath.
"I'll take care of it." Minho murmurs, one hand steady on his lap while the other shoos their manager away. "Now let's go, hyung, I wanna go home–"
Before their manager can get another word out, his phone starts ringing, a smile splitting across his face when he reads the caller ID. He dismisses them with a distracted grin, already shutting the door just as he picks up the call.
Huh, Seungmin blinks. Looks like they weren't the only ones who got lucky tonight.
The knot that had settled in the pit of Seungmin's stomach eventually untangles, as if finally relinquishing its hold on the swell of frustration that now bubbles up inside him, too fast and too hot.
Now that he's sobered up from the two high points of tonight– one from Minho's mouth and the other at the prospect of being caught– Seungmin turns, his brow stern and heavy, ready to admonish himself and Minho for their combined recklessness, when suddenly he sees it.
Minho's hand, now curled into a fist around the hem of his sweater, no doubt stretching the material as he covers the crotch of his pants. He has his face turned away, all of his attention focused on a speck by the window, yet the ridges of his ears are tinted red, giving his shame away completely.
"Hyung..." Seungmin starts, the realization that Minho had come untouched making him all sorts of choked up, but the rest of his words taper off as their manager gets into the driver's seat the same time Minho whips at him with a searing look.
Don't.
Seungmin snaps his mouth shut, the rush of emotions dissipating until all he's compelled to do is hold Minho's hand. With one furtive glance at the driver's seat, Seungmin does exactly that, his fingers weaving through Minho's before dragging their hands to his own lap.
Minho's face gives away nothing, and yet when his phone vibrates a moment later, the facade is ruined by the blush that now spans the back of his neck, dipping beneath his collar.
I'll make it up to you, Seungmin's text reads, his promise pronounced by the deliberate caress of his thumb along Minho's knuckles.
Minho inconspicuously shudders through an exhale, eventually typing out, You better.
Seungmin glances at Minho in lieu of replying, his gaze suddenly suspended by the weight of Minho's eyes already on him. He's seen this face before– has caused Minho to look this pink and soft and sated so many times already, and yet Seungmin still feels bowled over by the sight.
Once he's imprinted this image of Minho at the back of his mind, tucking it in the vast collection he's accumulated throughout the years, Seungmin slowly settles back in his seat and holds Minho through the long drive back home.