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There’s little Jisung loves more than holidays.
He loves the atmosphere of them, especially Christmas. The sweet aroma of cookies baking in the oven, the beauty of the sparkling decorations everywhere— there is nothing more perfect. Jisung revels in it each year. Decorating his home is his pride and joy, and he takes it extremely seriously. To question his adoration for the holiday is an insult, a desecration upon the holy altar that is his passion.
Now, Jisung isn’t religious. Far from it, in fact. He knows his life choices would land him in the deep depths of Hell, but hey, a holiday is a holiday.
It’s well past Christmas by this time, but he has no intentions of taking down his decorations outside. They bring him joy, painting the still dull winter scenery bright with reds and greens. So when he gets a knock on his door on a random February afternoon, he’s prepared to be confronted by the old grumpy lady across the street that claims his lights blind her at night and she can’t sleep.
Instead, Jisung opens the door to find a stranger— a handsome one— with a scowl on his face.
”Uh, can I help you?”
”You have your Christmas lights up.” The stranger speaks, and his voice is honey in Jisung’s ears.
Jisung raises a brow. “Yes, and?”
”It’s February.” The stranger states, frowning.
”What are you, the Grinch?”
The man frowns deeper, crossing his arm. “Take them down.”
This causes Jisung to chuckle— he just can’t help it, it’s so absurd. “Unless you’re part of our non-existent HOA board, you’re out of luck, pal. They’re staying up.”
“They’re distracting.”
“Distracting from what? The dead trees?”
“Can you just take them down,” the stranger tries again, his voice less rigid. “Please?”
It’s less of a question, no lilt to his voice at the end. It feels wrong for someone so attractive to be so… rude.
“Who even are you?” Jisung counters.
This makes the stranger redden, his cheeks turning the shade of someone stuck in the cold for too long. Jisung can see the tips of his ears turning the same color. “Your new neighbor.”
“Well, new neighbor , you should know I always keep my lights up until at least March.”
The scowl returns. He pushes his dark hair away from his forehead before tucking his ungloved hands into his jacket pockets.
“Take them down.” Are his final words before he turns on his heel and retreats down Jisung’s driveway and over to his own. Jisung watches as the man heads up the driveway of the house to his left and opens the front door, throwing one last glare Jisung’s direction before entering and slamming it behind him.
Well, great first impression.
⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹
Jisung makes it his mission to keep his lights up as long as possible. They don’t bother him— in fact, he quite likes them. They add a much needed essence of liveliness to his life.
His neighbor, still unnamed, has been popping up more and more. Every time Jisung goes outside, there’s an evil dragon glaring at him from the window next door. When he walks down the driveway to collect his mail, the evil eyes are watching him with a hawk-like precision.
It’s unnerving to say the least. Jisung has become a prisoner in his own home, a traitor to the patriarchy all over some silly lights.
He’s surprised the man hasn’t called the police yet. Maybe he has enough common sense not to do so.
It’s nearing the end of the month when Jisung’s friends stop by.
When he opens the front door, he’s greeted by a scowling Hyunjin, a neutral— as always— Seungmin, and a grinning Jeongin.
Hyunjin storms into the house, saying nothing to Jisung while his boyfriends trail behind.
“Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Jisung asks as he shuts the door behind them.
The taller boy throws himself down on Jisung’s sofa, making himself at home. “Your neighbor, that’s who. Prick.”
Jisung groans. “What did he do now?”
“He asked us, actually more like told us, to tell you to take your Christmas lights down.” Seungmin speaks up, taking a seat in the old recliner that Jisung really should have thrown out instead of bringing with him when he moved. “Seriously. Stormed right out of his house the second we pulled up and everything.”
“What’s his issue?” Jeongin asks, perching himself on the arm of the sofa next to Hyunjin. Jisung heads to the fridge, grabbing out bottles of soju and shot glasses for each of them. “To be honest, I have no idea. It was like the first day he moved in, he came over and acted like the fuckin’ Christmas police. I don’t even know his name, that’s how rude he was.”
He sets the glasses down on the coffee table as he finishes speaking. Hyunjin immediately lunges for one, pouring himself a shot and downing it with little hesitation.
“Well, why don’t you just… take them down?” Seungmin suggests, grabbing his own glass and pouring a shot.
Jisung and Hyunjin both gape at him.“Hell no! It’s the principle of it! You don’t just demand a stranger change their decorations because you don’t like it. That’s just rude.” Jisung shrieks, Hyunjin nodding along with every word.
“It’s war.” Hyunjin adds in pointedly, pouring another shot.
Jisung nods, taking a sip of his own shot as he takes a seat beside Hyunjin. The chilled liquid runs down his throat, cooling him from the inside.
“You do know it’s almost March, right?” Seungmin asks then, nursing the glass in his hand as he leans back in the recliner.
“Yes, and I’ve made it my goal to keep them up as long as I can because of him. Who knows, they might stay up until next Christmas.”
Jeongin snorts, nearly spewing soju across Jisung’s carpet.
Hyunjin ignores his boyfriend, pointing at Jisung as he speaks next. “You know, he was really cute. If we were looking for a fourth for our polycule—“
“Which we aren’t.” Seungmin interjects.
Hyunjin ignores him as well, “I’d be on that quick.”
Jisung slaps Hyunjin on the back of the head, ignoring the murderous looks the taller boy’s boyfriends throw his way.
“No consorting with the enemy.”
“It was just an observation!”
“While I don’t agree with Jisung physically abusing you, I have to agree with his statement.” Seungmin speaks, his voice bored as he stares at his boyfriend. “No consorting with anyone. Except us, of course.”
Jisung rolls his eyes, tuning out his friends as they continue to speak about how attractive his new asshole neighbor is. He could be a supermodel for all Jisung cares; he was still the enemy.
Even if his eyes were so deep they could have held all the secrets of the universe.
Still the enemy.
Jisung manages to get his friends to stop their discussion over how fuckable his neighbor is by telling them he’ll order food. The conversation instantly shifts to what they want to order, arguing about which restaurants are better.
In the end, they end up going their typical Chinese food route as they prepare to watch the latest episode of the drama they’ve all gotten far too invested in.
It’s only some thirty minutes later when the doorbell rings and Jisung jumps up from his perch on the couch to answer.
Swinging the door open, he’s looking away as he shouts to the others to quiet down.
“Jisung.”
His head whips around as the familiar voice rings in his ears. His neighbor stands in front of him, holding two bags of takeout with his favorite Chinese restaurant's logo.
“Why do you have my food? More important, how do you know my name? ” He accuses, crossing his arms.
His unnamed neighbor stands there, his expression stoic. “They delivered to the wrong house, don’t get your panties in a twist. The bag has your name on it and I assumed since this is enough food to feed an army, the four of you were the ones who ordered.”
Shocked at the kindness of the gesture, Jisung’s arms drop. The man could’ve just kept it for himself, or thrown it out; he was under no obligation to deliver it to Jisung, but here he is.
Maybe he isn’t so bad.
“Oh, that’s very kind of you—“
“I’ll give you the food if you agree to take the lights down.”
Jisung’s mind short circuits. His eyebrows raise as his jaw loosens and he stares dumbfounded at the gorgeous man in front of him.
“Excuse me?”
The man shrugs. “You heard me.”
“How dare you, that’s my—“ Jisung’s voice raises, catching the attention of his friends. In a flash, Seungmin is at his side. With a courteous smile, he grabs the bags from the man.
“Thank you so much…” He trails off, raising a brow.
Jisung’s neighbor stutters, his mouth opening and closing again as he processes. “Uh, Minho.”
“Thank you, Minho. You’re a lifesaver!”
With that, Seungmin slams the door in the neighbor’s— Minho’s— face.
Jisung turns slowly, a questioning look on his face. Seungmin just shines a smile at him, the sun losing the battle against his perfect teeth.
“What the hell was that?” Jisung asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the door.
Seungmin shrugs. “I bet Hyunjin I could get his name before you.”
Traitors. All of them.
⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹
The attempts by Minho become more desperate as time goes on.
Every time Jisung leaves the house— for work, to get groceries, even to get the mail— Minho seems to be lurking. Sometimes on his porch, other times just watching him through his curtains.
Jisung would find it creepy if he didn’t find Minho so attractive.
It’s odd really, the way Jisung somehow feels drawn to the enemy. Because that’s what he is— an enemy. They don’t know each other, they shouldn’t even really know each other’s names. It was just happenstance that they’d come to know them at all.
Truly, there’s nothing wrong with Minho, as far as he can tell, apart from his quirk about the lights. He seems to go to and from his house on a regular schedule, likely to work. Jisung can see the man has cats from the window that faces Jisung’s bedroom; there’s a cat tree and almost always at least one cat perched atop it. What psychopath would have multiple cats? Well, maybe more than Jisung is aware of, but he disregards that.
He’s had visitors a few times, Jisung is able to recall. There’s sometimes two well built men that stop by, and Jisung can’t help but stare whenever he sees them.
Hyunjin would have a field day over the shorter one.
Jisung notices Minho’s escalation on an early March morning just as he’s leaving for work.
He grabs himself a protein shake from the fridge because he can’t be bothered to eat properly, collects his things, and sets off for his immensely stressful production job. Just as he’s closing the front door behind himself and turning to lock it, he notices a note taped to his door.
The handwriting is basically chicken scratch, rushed and not at all neat.
Take them down or I’ll do it myself.
Jisung laughs loudly, nearly doubling over for how insanely crazy his neighbor is. Minho was dedicated, Jisung would give him that much.
He rips the note from his door, turning on his heel to stare at the house next to his. There’s no car in the driveway, so Minho must have placed it on his door before leaving for his own job. From his porch, Jisung is able to see the window of what he assumes is Minho’s bedroom where the cat tree sits in perfect view. There’s two cats there this time, identical in color and both curled up in balls. He finds himself wondering what their names are.
Jisung’s snapped from his trance when a third cat jumps up to join them, this one brown. It nuzzles against one of the orange ones, forcing its way into a cuddle session. Jisung coos at it internally before cursing himself; he’ll be late for work if he doesn’t get going.
They may be cute, but they belong to the enemy.
He looks back down at the note in his hand for a moment, trying to think of the best way to reply. Battling with himself internally, he decides to just not respond. Maybe if he ignores it for long enough, Minho will give up and leave him alone.
As Jisung heads towards his car, he stops by his outdoor trash bin and chucks the paper inside. Out of sight, out of mind.
Jisung is unable to keep Minho out of his mind the entire day. It’s comical, really, how someone he should hate so much is running through his head like a marathon. He knows he should be thinking of how to annoy the man more, but all that’s on his mind is the surprisingly endearing chicken scratch writing and the cats Jisung is constantly catching glimpses of.
After work, Jisung calls over Hyunjin to enlist his help. The dancer is confused but obliges as long as Jisung promises pizza— which he does.
Jisung waits by the door impatiently, not-so-sneakily stealing glances at the neighbor’s house. There’s a car in the driveway now, already there before Jisung arrived home from work, so he knows Minho’s schedule is earlier than his. Maybe that’s his problem, he’s an early bird and the lights keep him awake at night; the same excuse the grumpy old lady across the street gave.
Hyunjin arrives without Jisung noticing, letting himself into the house without so much as a knock.
“Is this what you called me over here for? To spy on the hottie weirdo neighbor?” He questions, raising a brow as he shuts the door behind him.
Jisung turns from his position at the window, a sheepish smile on his face. “No, I was just waiting for you.”
“You look like a creep. A peeping Tom, if you want brutal honesty.”
“Did I ask for honesty? No.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, throws his jacket onto the back of one of Jisung’s dining chairs and plops himself down on the couch with much less grace than a dancer should have.
“Did you order the pizza?” Hyunjin changes the subject as Jisung walks over to take a seat in the recliner.
Jisung nods, pulling the delivery app up on his phone. “Yeah, should be here in like… 20?”
Hyunjin hums in approval, pulling his phone out of his pocket and positioning it way too close to his face to be good for his eyes. He scrolls for a minute before directing his gaze at Jisung.
“So, what did you need?” He raises a brow.
Jisung leans back in the recliner, crossing his arms in front of him. “Minho left a note on my door this morning.”
Hyunjin pushes himself up in a flash, his phone dropping between his legs as he stares at Jisung with wide eyes. “He what ?”
“Said ‘ take them down or I’ll do it myself ’, some bullshit like that.”
“Oh, so it’s war war now.” Hyunjin spits, throwing his legs over the edge of the sofa to stand back up.
“Where are you going?” Jisung asks, leaning forward.
With a wordless saccharine smile, Hyunjin skips down the hall to Jisung’s main storage closet. At this point, Hyunjin knows the house just as well as Jisung.
“What are you looking for?” Jisung calls, but makes no move to get up and follow the dancer.
“More ammunition!”
There’s a few moments of nothing but rustling from the hallway and Jisung can see Hyunjin crouched down from his position in the living room. He can’t make out what the other is pulling out, but he doesn’t have to wait long for an answer.
Hyunjin stands with a triumphant grin on his lips, gathering a bundle of decorations in his arms as he brings them back to the living room. With a huff, he throws them down on the coffee table.
“What’re these for?” Jisung eyes the lights.
“I don’t care if it’s March, we’re decorating more.”
Jisung quirks a brow. He understands the appeal, but is it worth it to make Minho more angry? He started this entire thing from a petty place in his heart, but even Jisung is beginning to think it’s getting out of hand. March was tipping the scale from unreasonable to straight up unhinged.
Hyunjin doesn’t wait for a response before he starts untangling the additional lights and other decorations. There’s tinsel, some strings of glowing icicles Jisung never ever used, more lights, and even some little snowmen to hang in his windows.
“Isn’t this a bit much?” Jisung asks as he scoots himself to the floor to assist.
Hyunjin shakes his head, giving Jisung a pointed look. “If he wants to start throwing out threats, we’re gonna give him something to really complain about.”
Jisung supposes that’s fair. He’s done nothing to Minho, he’d simply wanted to enjoy the holiday spirit just a little longer. It’s Minho’s own fault for drawing out the petty side of Jisung and his friends.
They sit untangling the lights for much longer than Jisung expected, and soon enough the doorbell rings. Hyunjin, being closer, gets up to get the food. Jisung can hear him thanking the driver and just as he thinks Hyunjin is about to shut the door and bring him cheesy goodness, he hears a shout.
“Holy shit, Felix?”
Jisung hears dashing footsteps leaving his porch, so he gets up to follow and investigate. It’s nearing sunset now, with golden light pouring into the house from the open door. There’s birds chirping outside and although it’s beginning to feel like spring, there’s still a chill blowing its way in through the doorway.
Forgoing a jacket, Jisung trails out the door and onto his porch to see Hyunjin standing in Minho’s driveway chatting with a blonde haired man.
From this distance it’s difficult for Jisung to see, but the man looks ethereal. His hair cascades around his shoulders in waves and Jisung can see his bright smile even from so far. He’s slightly shorter than Hyunjin, enough so that he needs to lean his head back slightly to look at the other man.
He catches a glimpse of Jisung and waves, and Jisung nearly bolts back inside before Hyunjin turns with a grin and beckons Jisung over. With timid steps he approaches them, standing beside Hyunjin. The taller man still has the pizza box in his hands.
“Jisung, this is Felix! We studied dance together, but I haven’t seen him since we graduated. Felix, this is Jisung.”
Felix’s smile is even more dazzling up close and Jisung can’t help but wonder if attractive people just flock to each other, seeing as his friend is equally as stunning.
“Nice to meet you! I think I’ve heard about you before, but it’s been a long time.” Felix’s voice is much deeper than Jisung expected, but he finds it suits the blonde.
“Likewise.” Jisung smiles. “I take it you know Minho then?”
Felix looks at the house behind them for a moment and something in Jisung’s voice must make him realize something because his mouth drops open as he looks back at Jisung. “Oh my god, you’re Jisung.”
“Uh, yeah—“
“Minho has been complaining about you for weeks . It’s been driving me insane!” Felix exclaims, and at that moment Minho’s front door opens and the man of the house steps out.
“Felix? Oh,” He pauses, looking between the three men. “Jisung.”
The two stare at each other, the silent exchange making Hyunjin and Felix shift uncomfortably. The sun is setting, making the world around them darken as the night breeze sets in. Jisung takes notice of Minho’s tank top, much too cold for the season, but he seems unbothered. Muscles Jisung had never noticed are defined, even at this distance. Jisung wonders what those biceps would feel like under his fingertips.
With a chill, Felix breaks the silence. “Well, it was nice to see you! Jisung, it was nice to meet you. We’ll all have to get together sometime!”
Jisung blinks, tearing his gaze from the dark haired man at his door and looks at Felix. He forces a smile but he can feel the way it doesn’t reach his eyes, though Felix lets it slide as he grins back. He gives his friend one more hug before he hurries to Minho’s porch. With one final wave, he disappears inside, but Minho remains.
Their eyes meet once again and Jisung can’t look away. There’s a thread pulled so tight between them that it could snap at any moment.
Hyunjin taps him lightly on the shoulder and the spell is broken. Jisung jerks his head to the side to look at the dancer who’s looking between the two of them. Hyunjin raises a brow in silent question, but Jisung doesn’t want to talk about the pull he just felt, so he shakes his head infinitesimally.
When Jisung looks back at Minho’s porch, it’s empty, the door swinging shut.
Jisung shakes off the sudden onslaught of disappointment.
⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹
Only a few days later, with additional lights and decor strung up and even more angry notes and glances from his neighbor, Jisung receives a call from Hyunjin.
“Okay, before I even say anything, promise you won’t be mad.” Hyunjin rushes out as soon as Jisung picks up, not even able to get in a greeting.
“Why am I gonna be mad?”
Hyunjin huffs. “No, you have to promise not to be.”
“Fine, I promise. Now what is it?”
“ImayormaynothaveinvitedMinhoandtheirotherfriendstomybirthdaypartybecauseFelixwantedthemtocome.”
Jisung couldn’t possibly understand the entirety of the sentence, but he picks out the names with ease.
“Again, but slower, and please tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with Minho.”
He hears Hyunjin take a deep breath before he repeats his message. “I invited Minho and his friends to my birthday party because Felix wanted to come but wanted them to come too. Since he’s dating one of them, y’know?”
“The two muscular bodyguard looking dudes that stop by Minho’s all the time?” Jisung questions, trying to keep his mind off the fact that he’d have to be in the same room with Minho. Willingly.
“Yes! Them! The taller one is Chan, that’s Felix’s boyfriend. The other is Changbin. He’s single~” Hyunjin sing-songs the ending with mischief lacing his voice.
“Seungmin and Jeongin said no more additions.” Jisung points out.
“Don’t ruin my fun!”
Jisung blows air from his nose, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, why is Minho invited?”
It’s not an absurd question, seeing as the reason for Chan being invited is because he’s Felix’s boyfriend. Jisung isn’t sure why Changbin is included in that, but has a feeling the two muscle men come as a package deal.
“Because Felix may or may not think that you two being in the same room would solve your problems.” Hyunjin admits, the slight mumble in his voice telling Jisung he doesn’t really want to tell him.
Jisung can understand the thought process and appreciates Felix’s idea, though he’s not sure it’ll work the way the blonde is hoping. Jisung is stubborn, and from the notes he’s been getting, he can tell Minho is just as much so.
Putting the two of them in the same room will go either surprisingly well or unsurprisingly terribly.
Jisung puts his money on the former.
“I guess that’s reasonable,” is what Jisung settles on saying instead.
“Do you think you can handle being around him?” Hyunjin asks.
No , Jisung thinks.
“Yeah, why not?” Is what he speaks aloud.
That weekend, Jisung finds himself in front of the mirror in his bedroom, thinking much harder than he should about the outfit he decided on. It’s Hyunjin’s birthday, not a fashion show, and he has no one to impress. Not consciously, anyway.
Suddenly his top feels too short— it is a crop top, but it makes him feel exposed. His jeans feel too casual, too club-like for their get together. Jisung realizes as he digs through the entirety of his closet that he’s nearer to thirty than he is to twenty, and that probably warrants buying less college-student-looking clothing.
That’s a problem for future Jisung to worry about. Right now, he needs to worry about his current outfit. He settles on some baggier jeans than what he’d been wearing previously and throws a flannel over the black crop top so he can button it if he feels too ill-clothed. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.
Jisung knows the party is going to be small, just their group, Felix’s friends, and a few other friends and coworkers Hyunjin decided to extend invitations to last minute.
Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin’s home is near Jisung’s, the drive being only a few short minutes. It takes him no time at all to get there, and he soon realizes he’s the last to arrive. There are cars lining the street, more than he expected, but not enough to make him feel anxious.
The trio’s house is larger than his by a long shot, and likely much bigger than the three will ever need. It’s a spacious two story, absolutely beautiful, and definitely jealousy inducing.
Jisung parks his car behind the furthest one, realizing after a moment that it belongs to Minho. Taking a deep breath, he grabs the present sitting on his passenger seat and steps out of his car, then makes the trek up to the front door. The path leading to the door is winding, lined with bushes that have yet to bloom as the weather slowly begins to warm. There are small fox statues nestled into the garden, Jeongin’s doing for sure.
He decides not to ring the doorbell, hearing plenty of chatter and commotion on the other side of the door that he does not want to interrupt and gather attention from. Instead, he simply opens the door and slips into the living room as if he’d been there the whole time. No one takes notice until he slides in beside Hyunjin, who beams brightly when their arms bump.
“Hey, you made it! I’ve been waiting for you.” He presses a sloppy kiss to Jisung’s cheek, one that Jisung is plenty familiar with; the birthday boy is already tipsy.
Jisung gives him a side hug, waving at some others that stood nearby, Seungmin included. “Sorry I’m a little late, I had a wardrobe issue.”
Hyunjin takes the opportunity to give him a once over. “I think you look hot, so I’ll allow it.”
With a laugh, Jisung pats his friend’s shoulder and moves to the kitchen to grab a drink. It feels reminiscent of their old college parties, but somehow more sophisticated. Maybe it’s the more mature decor or the house in general, but Jisung feels much more at ease than he had when attending parties in college.
The kitchen is empty when he steps around the corner. There are a handful of cans on the counter, but he knows better than to grab one of those. He slips around the island and crouches down to open the mini fridge built into their cabinets. Rich bastards.
Their kitchen is entirely too large to be necessary, the island spanning wider than Jisung’s entire wingspan and the cabinets overhead being too many to count. It’s just as beautiful and perfectly decorated as the rest of the house, something Hyunjin had taken pride in when they purchased the home.
Grabbing himself a seltzer— one he would spend the whole night nursing— Jisung stands and turns, meeting the gaze of the last person he expected.
“Minho. Hi.” He stutters, gripping the can tightly in his fist.
He looks good, clad in a loose cream button down that reveals way too much of his chest for Jisung to remain sane. His jeans are dark, hugging his legs in all the perfect places. Dark hair is slicked back away from his face, save for a few strands that hang over his eyebrow.
Minho steps towards him, around the island, and Jisung thinks he’s going to approach him. Instead, he side steps Jisung and bends down to grab a drink of his own. Once he has a can in his hand, identical to Jisung’s, only then does he speak.
“Hi.”
He then steps around Jisung again, not even sparing him a glance before he turns the corner back into the living room.
Jisung finds himself wanting to jump in the pantry and lock himself inside until the party is over.
Instead, just before Jisung is able to make a move towards said pantry, an energetic blonde enters the room.
“Jisung!” Felix smiles, bounding over to him for a quick hug. Though this is the second time they’ve ever interacted, Jisung feels no discomfort returning the gesture.
“Nice to see you again, Felix.” Jisung greets, taking a step back as he cracks open his can.
Felix slides over to the fridge and opens it, beginning to take out copious amounts of food. “You too! Would you mind helping me with these? A few things need to go in the oven for a bit, but the rest can go out to the dining table.”
Jisung eyes all the dishes, a variety of things he hasn’t seen in years. “Did you make all this?”
“Yep!” Felix pops the ending, grinning as he sets down the last of the dishes on the island. “Me and Minho, anyway.”
“Minho?”
Felix spares Jisung a glance, a smirk playing as his lips. “Yeah, that’s kind of his job, you know? Well, he works at some fancy brunch place right now but that man can cook .”
For some reason, Jisung finds Minho even more attractive for that fact.
He helps Felix carry the food out into the living space where the dining table has been relieved of its chairs and pushed against the wall. They arrange everything and Felix announces the food is ready while he goes back to the kitchen to heat up the last of the dishes.
Jisung stands to the side while the rest of the guests line up to pile their plates. He’s unsure of what to do, not sure if Felix needs any more help or if he should just get in line himself.
His internal question is answered before he can even make a decision.
“Go get some food.” Minho is much too close for comfort when he speaks, nearly making Jisung drop his can. “I’ll help Felix bring out the rest.”
Jisung clutches his can tighter as he glances at Minho. “Are you sure, I mean you’re a guest and—“
“So are you, and I made the food. I have no problem waiting to eat it.”
Jisung is unsure why Minho is suddenly being nice to him— albeit stern— especially after practically ignoring him in the kitchen only minutes ago. It confuses Jisung as well as the butterflies coming alive in his stomach.
He simply stares, unabashed for the first time since meeting Minho. The other man looks at him, brow raising.
“Well? Go eat.”
Jisung blinks before nodding, murmuring a quiet thank you as he steps forward to join the line. He can feel Minho’s eyes on him as he turns his back, but he fights every instinct within him telling him to turn back around.
Once everyone has food, Minho included, the group of eight somehow find themselves seated together on the couches in the main living space while the rest of the guests linger around at folding tables or in the kitchen at the island.
Jisung sits squished between Hyunjin and Changbin, but he’s not uncomfortable. Across on the opposite couch are Felix, Chan and… Minho, the latter of who keeps sparing glances Jisung’s way when he seems to think Jisung isn’t looking.
Seungmin and Jeongin had sacrificed their seats to their guests, taking up cross legged positions on the floor with their plates in their laps.
There’s idle conversation between the eight, allowing the two groups to merge and fully chat for the first time.
Jisung learns that Changbin and Chan are independent producers and he quickly falls into a deep conversation with Changbin about their processes and how they’ve been able to sustain being independent.
It’s extremely interesting to him since that’s what he’s been wanting to do from the beginning, but got dragged into becoming a corporate drone creating music he wasn’t proud of just to make sure it fit the company’s needs.
He’s deep in the discussion when he hears Seungmin address Minho.
“So, Minho,” He clears his throat and almost everyone in the group quiets down. “Why do you hate Christmas lights?”
Fuck you, Kim Seungmin.
Everyone visibly shifts, waiting for Minho’s response. He sits rigid, staring at Seungmin with a trained expression.
“I don’t believe I owe you or anyone an answer to that question,” Minho finally speaks, taking a sip of his drink.
Jisung thinks that’s the end of the conversation, punctuated by the perfectly timed sip, but Minho speaks again.
“But if you must know, it’s my cats, not me.”
This makes Jisung raise a brow as Minho pointedly meets his eye. They hold each other’s gazes for what feels like one too many breaths before Jisung breaks the contact, jolting away to look down at his plate.
“What do you mean?” Jeongin speaks up then, his voice innocent and curious.
Minho looks down at him with a pleasant smile just as Jisung raises his head again. “Well, they see the red lights and they think they’re lasers. You know how cats are. So they jump at the windows.”
Jisung suddenly feels sick. Nerves tangling in a knot, twisting every which way in his stomach, Jisung thinks he’s truly, royally, made a mistake.
This entire time, Jisung had been acting like an absolute asshole while Minho just worried about his cats’ well being?
Jisung is the jerk of the century.
The conversation shifts after that admission, with Chan attempting to make lighthearted jokes and commentary about other topics to avoid the one no one wanted to touch on.
Jisung finds himself constantly drawn to Minho’s gaze, though every time their eyes meet one of them looks away with cherry stained cheeks.
Eventually the group disperses when Hyunjin is pulled away by some of the other guests. Jisung is left to stand beside Seungmin and Jeongin as they converse with some old friends, and across the room he can see Minho laughing with Chan and another guest. His eyes stay trained on the dark haired man and every so often, Minho’s gaze flits back to his only to divert itself when dark brown meets even deeper brown.
It’s a difficult dance they’re doing, but one Jisung can’t find himself stepping away from. He feels terrible, his guilt anchoring him to the bottom of the sea each time he looks at Minho.
He’d thought this entire time that he was simply inconveniencing the other man, and though Minho never explicitly told him why he was asking for the lights to be taken down, Jisung could have just been the bigger person and done it.
“If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole in his head.” Seungmin’s voice forces Jisung’s eyes away from Minho’s side profile.
“I am not staring!” Jisung spits out in a whisper, his eyes widening as he looks around to see if anyone else caught on.Jeongin shakes his head, his eyes crescents as he smiles like he knows something Jisung doesn’t. “Jisung, I love you, but you’re really obvious.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seungmin sips the drink in his hand with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve both been making googly eyes at each other for the past hour. Put two and two together, Sherlock.”
That couldn’t be right. Minho hates him; there’s no way he’s looking at Jisung with anything short of loathing, especially after his little confession. Maybe he’s thinking of all the possible ways to dispose of Jisung’s body after he ambushes him when they leave the party.
“Are you sure he’s not looking at me like he’s gonna kill me?” Jisung remarks after a moment's pause.
“Let’s just say he looks like he wants to jump you, and not in a criminal way— actually, I don’t know his preferences, maybe he’s into that kind of thing.”
That last addition earns a smack on Jeongin’s arm from Seungmin.
⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹'꒷︶˚︶˚︶˚︶꒷'⚹
Jisung means to take the lights down, he really does. But, such as life does, time gets away from him between work and basic needs. He finds himself unable to make the time for a few days following the party.
He feels terrible about it, so he tries to remember to just unplug them but keeps forgetting it on his to-do list of endless things.
As a result, despite their conversation in Hyunjin’s kitchen, Minho has returned to glaring at Jisung every chance he gets. Though this time, it’s different. There’s a tension there, lingering gazes between the two of them each time they spot each other, drifting eyes that roam more than just the other’s face. The thread that was already pulled taut between them begins to shorten, wrapping itself around each of their souls and tugging them closer, begging for relief.
Begging for it to snap.
That’s why, when Minho appears on Jisung’s doorstep on the Wednesday following the party, Jisung is prepared. Wound up, even.
He opens the door only a crack, peering at his neighbor with wide eyes.
“Yes?” Jisung asks, his voice much less even than he’s intending.
“You still haven’t taken them down.”
Minho’s jaw is locked, the muscle in his cheek twitching when he closes his mouth. He looks like he’s just come from the gym based on the damp hair, sweatpants and duffle bag in his grip. Did he not even go home before stopping over?
“Uh, no. Not yet.” Jisung says sheepishly, opening the door wider.
Something in their atmosphere shifts as Minho takes in Jisung’s appearance. He’s just gotten home from work and thrown on his own comfy lounging attire— a much too tight shirt that he’s been meaning to throw out, and a pair of basketball shorts. His own hair is wet, only towel dried after just showering.
Jisung realizes the shift belatedly, already standing closer to Minho than he’s intended to do. When Minho’s gaze raises back to his face, there’s a challenge in his eyes, one that Jisung recognizes and understands.
Jisung’s own porch was now a hunting ground, one that this predator was new to and more than eager to strike its prey.
“Well then, this is the last time I’ll ask nicely,” Minho says, his voice even. “ Please take down the fucking Christmas lights.”
Jisung regards him with a cold stare. He has the option to play along, to become the prey Minho so clearly wants him to be, or deny him. His preference pushes into his mind easily.
“Make me.”
They both surge forward at the same time, meeting in the middle in a mess of teeth and tongue. Minho immediately licks into Jisung’s mouth, backing him up against the wall of the entryway. Jisung brings his arms up, snaking them around Minho’s neck to tug at the hair at his nape, earning a moan that Jisung swallows greedily.
It’s sloppy, full of all the tension that had built between the two until the thread snapped. It’s everything Jisung wanted, but he still wants more.
“Bedroom.” He gasps into Minho’s mouth. Minho obliges, sliding his hands down to grip Jisung’s thighs. In one swift movement, he hoists Jisung up by his legs, holding him firmly as Jisung wraps them around Minho’s waist. “Down the hall.”
Minho carries Jisung with ease, walking normally as if he isn’t holding up an entire body with his arms. It makes Jisung shiver in anticipation.
Kicking the door open with his foot, Minho hurries to throw Jisung on the bed, wasting no time in climbing over him and reconnecting their lips in a hungry kiss. He holds himself up on his forearms above Jisung, sliding a hand up under his shirt as he licks into Jisung’s mouth again.
Jisung reaches for the hem of Minho’s hoodie, tugging urgently. “ Off .”
Minho chuckles, his voice a darker, deeper tone than Jisung had heard before.
“So needy, hm? Can’t be patient?” He teases, pulling away to look down at Jisung. His lips are swollen and glossy, taunting Jisung further. Jisung has no patience for Minho’s antics, so he tugs him down by the neck into a bruising kiss. He shoves his hands under Minho’s hoodie, roaming his hips and lower back before Minho laughs into his mouth breathlessly. “Okay, okay, give me a second.”
He leans back again, pulling himself up onto his knees as he slides the material up and off his torso. Jisung’s eyes instantly start roaming over the man’s toned body, taking in every curve of his muscles, from his lean waist to his broad shoulders and arms thick enough to make Jisung drool.
In any other world, Jisung would be scoffing at the idea of Minho being half naked, hovering above him and looking down with a hunger that could not be satiated, no matter how much he takes.
But this isn’t another world; this is his reality, and he preens at that realization. Jisung would let him take whatever he wanted ten times over.
There’s no time wasted as Minho reaches down and pulls on the hem of Jisung’s shirt, urging him out of it.
The air around them is charged, palpable as Minho stares down at Jisung’s own bare chest. He doesn’t feel self conscious. If anything, he feels confident, the desire in Minho’s gaze fueling his vanity.
“Beautiful,” Minho whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to Jisung’s left pec. The action is such a striking contrast to their heated exchange so far, it makes something deep within Jisung stir. More than carnal desire— he doesn’t just have the need to be wanted, he wants to be loved, accepted .
Something he hasn’t realized he’s seeking from Minho until now. Now, when Minho’s lips ghost over his neck, pressing delicate kisses that have him moving his head to the side to give the man better allowance.
Minho deepens his caresses, nipping and sucking at the skin as he trails his way up to the sweet spot just below Jisung’s ear. When he reaches it, Jisung arches his back infinitesimally and he feels Minho smirk against his skin. The other man begins to suck on the spot, running his tongue over it and grazing Jisung with his teeth.
Jisung tries to hold in the sounds that make an effort to leave his lips, but the sounds persevere. He lets out a small whimper, pathetic and strained, which only urges Minho further.
“Let me hear you, honey.” Minho mumbles against his skin before continuing his ministrations down his neck towards the junction of his neck and shoulder.
The pet name is enough to make Jisung melt, the waves of warmth curling around his fingers and toes. It seeps into his bones, settling deep within his being. He no longer holds back, wanting to please the man above him. The sounds are breathy, barely there as Minho steals the air from his lungs with each touch. He coaxes it out, leaving Jisung gasping for something he does not know.
They’re such simple touches, Jisung realizes, but enough to make him nearly fall apart before they’ve even begun.
Minho makes his way back down to Jisung’s chest, feathering kisses over his flushed skin. He reaches his left nipple and wraps his lips around it, sucking softly. It rips a moan from Jisung’s throat, embarrassingly loud. He feels Minho smile against him before he bites softly on the nub, causing Jisung to jolt at the sudden action.
“Sorry.” Minho chuckles, detaching his lips from Jisung’s chest. “Sensitive baby.”
He crawls back up, caging Jisung’s head in with his forearms as he pulls him back into a searing kiss. It’s a languid movement, less rushed than their journey to the bedroom. The feeling burrows deep in Jisung’s gut, the pooling desire enough to fill the oceans twice over.
Minho parts from him again to trail kisses down his neck to his torso, leaving invisible burns all across Jisung’s skin. He feels delirious. If anyone had told Jisung two months ago he’d be in bed with Minho touching every inch of naked skin, he’d have laughed in their face.
But this is reality, and Minho is peppering kisses all the way down to the waistline of Jisung’s shorts. He nips and licks at the skin in a deliciously teasing manner, smirking against Jisung’s skin every time he pulls a sound from his throat.
Jisung is impatient as Minho continues to press his lips along his waistline, never dipping below. He does nothing with his hands, building the ball of anticipation deep with Jisung’s core. He wants more— he wants Minho to give him more.
He bucks his hips up slightly, bumping his still clothed crotch against Minho’s chest. The other looks up at him with a raised brow, an aura of confidence radiating off him.
“What is it, baby?” He hums, cocking his head to the side with a growing smirk. Jisung wants to wipe that smirk off his face, wants to make him eat his words. Wants Minho to eat him whole. “I thought we were being patient.”
“Just— fuck, Minho. Please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for; he just wants Minho to touch him, to do more already.
Minho brings a hand up to ghost his fingertips against the ties of Jisung’s shorts.
“You want these off?”
Jisung nods vigorously, trying his best to keep from bucking up into the tiniest of touches. Minho’s smirk grows.
“Ask politely.”
Normally, Jisung would flat out deny such a demand, turn his brat dial up a notch just for the hell of it, but he can’t find it in himself to do so this time. He wants Minho more than he’s ever wanted someone before. The realization sends him spiraling in the stratosphere, but the soft caress of Minho’s fingers against his hip brings him back to earth.
Still, he can have fun with it.
“Minho, would you please rip my pants off and just fuck—“ His words are cut off as Minho’s hands grip his shorts and tugs harder than necessary. They slide from their snug position on Jisung’s hips, and he can’t miss the unmistakable tearing sound that occurs as they pass over the swell of his ass.
Once they’re pulled from his ankles, he gapes at Minho, who sports a shit eating grin.
“What? You said rip them off. I did what you asked, only because you were so polite.”
Jisung wants to ruin him. He wants to be ruined by him.
“Please just shut the fuck up and touch me.” He settles on.
Minho’s eyes glint, mischievous and dark as he settles back down near Jisung’s waist. He keeps his eyes locked with Jisung’s as he leans down, pressing his lips as lightly as he can to the tip of Jisung’s very obvious erection under his boxers.
It’s enough to make Jisung’s throat constrict as a moan tries to slip through, and it ends up coming out strangled and incoherent.
“Will you be good now? Patient for me?” Minho asks, and Jisung buckles under the weight of the desire lacing the other’s voice. He’s taunting him, and Jisung is playing right into the trap. He doesn’t care— he’d fall right off the cliff if Minho asked him to.
With immense effort, he forces a nod. Minho’s head tilts again.
“Words, honey.”
Jisung hates him. He wants him so bad.
“I’ll be good.”
A tap to his hip. “Good boy.”
The pit growing in Jisung’s stomach widens at the words, swallowing every emotion within him except for desire.
Minho makes good on his promise as he slides a hand from Jisung’s hip to his still clothed cock that strains against the confines of Jisung’s boxers.
He palms him firmly, never breaking eye contact even as Jisung’s sounds become more solid, evolving from strangled whimpers to full on moans. Minho presses harder with the heel of his hand, smirking when Jisung bucks up at the pressure.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” Minho’s breath is warm on his skin, ghosting over his hip bone, and it sends shivers up his body.
“Minho, please, want you.” He nearly gasps out as Minho presses even harder, boarding on painful. Sometimes he likes a little pain. “Need you to touch me.”
“I am touching you, honey.”
His words are warm honey in Jisung’s ears, flooding his veins. If Minho’s the honey, Jisung’s the bee.
“You know what I mean.” Jisung whines, pushing his hips against Minho’s hand. Minho’s fingers twitch, but he keeps them steady. “ Do something.”
Minho’s lip quirk into a smirk and Jisung’s heart drops. Without another word, Minho’s fingers slip under the band of Jisung’s boxers and wrap around his cock in an almost painful grip. Jisung gasps, his pelvic muscles tightening at the touch he’s been aching for.
“Is this what you wanted, hm?” Minho teases, making no move on Jisung’s cock. His fingers are tight, bringing Jisung the touch he wants but he needs Minho to move .
“I’m five seconds away from slapping the stupid smirk off your face.”
Minho clicks his tongue, loosening his grip on Jisung’s aching cock. Jisung whines at the feeling, bucking his hips to chase the pressure.
“That doesn’t sound like someone’s being a good boy.”
“ Minho .”
He chuckles, leaning down to press another kiss to Jisung’s hip bone. Then, he sits up, taking his hand with him. Jisung almost protests at the loss of touch before Minho’s standing and sliding his sweatpants off his legs, revealing an equally hard erection straining against his own briefs. Jisung watches as Minho kicks them from his feet and returns to the bed, leaning his body back over Jisung and pulling his lips into a kiss much softer than their last.
“Lube? Condoms?” He asks, breathing in Jisung’s mouth.
“Top drawer of the nightstand.”
Just as Minho is about to leave him to grab it, Jisung speaks before thinking.
“I’m clean. I mean… if you want to—“
“So am I,” Minho smirks against his lips, “You sure you’re good with that?”
Jisung hums against his mouth, nodding slightly.
Minho reaches over, his lips barely leaving Jisung’s for more than a moment while he digs around in the drawer. He locates the item easily, setting it on top of the table and returning to lick his way into Jisung’s mouth once again.
Their bodies are touching much less than Jisung wants, so he wraps his arms around Minho and brings his chest down flush with his own, causing their erections to rub together. He moans into Minho’s mouth, and he doesn’t miss the way Minho’s body chases the friction.
As Minho’s tongue licks its way into Jisung’s mouth, his hands slide down to tap at his waist, silently telling Jisung to lift his hips. He complies, pushing his crotch even further into Minho’s as the elder slips his fingers into the waistband of Jisung’s boxers and slides them down his thighs in one swift motion. Once off, Minho disconnects their lips, pulling away to help him remove them from his legs completely.
Jisung’s cock is hard, angrily red and leaking already. Any other time, he’d been embarrassed, but the sight of Minho over him and the feeling of his fingers ghosting along his hips is driving Jisung’s mind numb to all other thoughts but Minho .
He doesn’t need to tell Minho it’s his turn as the elder quickly removes his own briefs, his cock springing free. Jisung knew he felt big, but he hadn’t anticipated just how big Minho really is. He doesn’t think he’s ever taken someone so large.
“Like what you see?” Minho’s voice drips with a condescending tone, his smirk returning as he straddles Jisung’s thighs. Jisung watches as he brings a hand up to stroke himself a few times, his eyes never leaving Jisung’s.
Jisung finds himself nodding, which makes Minho’s grin widen. He leans down, bringing his mouth near Jisung’s ear.
“Wanna ride me, baby?”
His breath is warm on Jisung’s neck and he shivers.
“ Fuck , yes, please.”
Minho slides himself off Jisung’s thighs, gripping the backs of them firmly and tugging his knees to bend. Jisung complies easily, letting Minho position him however he wants. Minho reaches over, grabbing the bottle of lube and uncapping it with one hand while keeping his other on Jisung’s thigh.
He slicks up his fingers, eyeing Jisung with such intensity he feels the burning desire through it. “Ready?”
Jisung nods and Minho raises a brow, tapping a single clean finger on Jisung’s thigh.
“Yes.” Jisung sighs out, rolling his eyes.
“That’s my good boy.”
The pit in Jisung’s stomach nearly swallows up his heart.
Minho moves his lubed fingers to circle at Jisung’s rim, using his other hand to hold his legs open as he tenses at the sudden touch. The pad of his finger prods at the ring of muscle before sinking in slowly. Jisung tries his best not to tense and Minho notices, beginning to rub soothing circles into his thigh with his other hand.
He pushes further in at an excruciatingly slow pace, enough that Jisung whines at the feeling. Minho settles when the knuckles of his other fingers press against the skin of Jisung’s ass, and he continues to stare at the younger with intense hunger.
It takes only a moment before Jisung is wriggling, trying to fuck himself on Minho’s digit. Minho clicks his tongue, holding Jisung’s thigh firmly.
“Ah ah, what do good boys say?”
Jisung stares up at him, eyes wide. “Please—“
Minho pulls his finger almost completely out and slams it back in, immediately picking up a brutal pace that has Jisung squirming.
He continues until Jisung is a writhing mess before he adds another finger, scissoring him open with precise movements. Jisung’s moans fill the room, his hands gripping the sheets beneath his body.
There was something to be said about the way Minho seemed to know exactly how to get Jisung squirming, how his fingers were so skillful as they fucked into him at a steady pace.
“Ah, fuck— another, please .”
Minho complies with a smirk, leaning down to capture Jisung’s lips in a hungry kiss as he slides a third finger in beside the others. He keeps his speed, thrusting his fingers in at a high enough speed that would have Jisung falling apart in minutes if he continues.
He crooks his fingers and Jisung cries out, his back arching off the bed. His moans are swallowed by Minho as they continue to kiss, Minho’s tongue slipping between Jisung’s lips as he abuses his prostate with his ministrations.
“Good, I’m good, just fuck me.” Jisung babbles after moments, feeling the coiling heat building in his abdomen.
Minho presses one last kiss to his lips before he slides his fingers out, the wet noise much too loud in the silence of the room. Jisung feels empty immediately and he shifts his lips, a whine catching high in his throat.
“Patience, honey.” Minho chides, reaching back to the nightstand to grab the lube again. He clicks it open and pours a generous amount over his length before he strokes himself a few times.
Minho shifts until he’s between Jisung’s legs, the younger man’s thighs pressing into his own.
“Wanted to ride you.” Jisung pouts, his brow furrowed.
Minho chuckles, caressing Jisung’s thigh with his clean hand. “Wanna make you come first.”
Jisung can’t argue with that.
Minho shuffles forward, guiding the tip of his cock to prod against Jisung’s hole. Jisung squirms, trying to push his hips down into Minho’s, but Minho has an iron grip on his thighs. He pushes them further apart, hoisting them up to bend and allow him to settle in between.
With his eyes never leaving Jisung’s, Minho presses forward until the head of his cock breaches Jisung’s rim.
It’s painfully slow, but Jisung feels as if he’s being split apart. Just looking at Minho’s cock before, he seemed way too big to take comfortably, but actually having him inside was a whole other story. The stretch is uncomfortable, but Minho worked him open enough to slide in without trouble. Still, his body is gripping Minho like a vice.
“Fuck, baby—“ Minho breathes out, “you’re so tight .”
Jisung can do nothing but whine, adjusting his hips to try and get used to Minho’s sheer size. Minho pauses, holding Jisung’s thighs hard enough to bruise. He hopes they do.
They simply stare at each other for a few moments as Jisung gets comfortable, and soon enough he’s shifting his body to try and take Minho deeper. Minho pushes until his hips lay flush against Jisung’s, and then he gives Jisung no time before he pulls back out. Jisung begins to protest, the sounds getting caught in his throat as Minho slams back in with one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt.
Jisung lets out a moan so loud he’s sure the neighbors are able to hear. But he only has one neighbor to worry about, seeing as the other one is the one causing the disturbance.
“ Minho! ” He chokes out as the elder continues to fuck into him, his thrusts so hard they slide Jisung up the sheets.
This is more what Jisung had been expecting, hoping for even. The sounds of skin slapping, moans more explicit than he’s ever thought himself possible, both chasing their own releases rather than an emotional connection. When Minho kissed him so softly, it threw Jisung for a loop. He hadn’t thought Minho capable of such acts.
Minho’s pace is relentless, his hips snapping against Jisung’s in hurried thrusts. He adjusts the angle of his hips and Jisung cries out when he brushes against his prostate repeatedly.
The movements are rapid, carnal as Minho chases his own release, but the smirk on his face even as his brows are scrunched up in concentration makes the heat in Jisung’s stomach travel throughout his body. He feels it in his toes, his fingertips, he can sense how red his entire face is as he gazes at Minho.
Jisung finds the man above him unfairly beautiful, even sweaty and panting— those facts just make it even more evident. Minho is an Adonis, perfection down to the teeth that peek out as his mouth opens to let out breathy grunts.
If anyone deserves immortality for their beauty, it would be Minho.
Minho continues his harsh motions, sending Jisung in a spiral. Flames pool in his abdomen, the familiar bundle of nerves ready to burst at any moment.
“Minho— fuck, I’m close.” Jisung gasps out, his hands reaching to scramble for purchase on Minho’s shoulders. The elder just speeds up his motions, leaning down to allow Jisung to scratch at his bare skin.
He leans close, nipping at Jisung’s ear with his teeth.
“Come for me, honey.”
Jisung doesn’t need to be told twice. He hits his peak with a loud moan, his back arching off the sheets as Minho continues to pound into him. He spills onto his stomach untouched, his cock twitching as ribbons of white paint his abdomen. Minho fucks him through his orgasm, teetering on the edge of overstimulation as his prostate is repeatedly abused. Minho follows soon after, cursing against the skin of Jisung’s shoulder as his hips lose their rhythm and he stutters forward, spilling deep into him with Jisung’s name on his lips.
He rides out his own high, still snapping his hips forward sloppily. As Jisung’s breaths come out shallower, hissing at the overstimulation, Minho slows to a stop, keeping himself buried deep. He tucks his face into Jisung’s neck, kissing softly at the skin.
Instead of pulling out and falling beside Jisung, Minho hauls himself back up until he’s kneeling, staring down at Jisung with the same amount of desire as when they started.
“What—“
Jisung is cut off as Minho grips his thighs and forces Jisung to wrap his legs around his waist. Jisung complies, albeit confused. Minho tugs him up so he’s practically sitting in the elder’s lap.
As soon as he’s situated, Jisung understands. This way, he feels impossibly fuller. Minho is still buried inside him, somehow just as hard as before. The sensation is addicting and Jisung immediately wants more.
“Holy fuck.” He pants out, nestling his face in Minho’s neck.
Minho chuckles, lifting Jisung by the hips so he can stretch his legs out from under him. The display of strength makes Jisung’s cock twitch between them in interest.
Jisung takes the opportunity to roll his hips, eliciting a groan from Minho as his hands tighten on his thighs. The sound only urges Jisung further and he grins against Minho’s skin, repeating the motion with more force.
“Fuck, honey.” Minho’s voice is rough, deeper than usual, and it’s beautiful in Jisung’s ear.
Jisung takes the moment to tease the elder, pulling himself up only inches before sliding back down slowly. He repeats it a few times, never fully bouncing. The feeling is intoxicating, Minho’s cock reaching previously untouched areas inside him that leave him drunk on it.
Minho’s fingers tighten their hold, definitely hard enough to bruise. He removes one hand, pulling Jisungs head out of its secure position tucked away in his neck and tugs him by the chin to look at him.
“Good boys don’t tease.”
Then, he pulls Jisung forward into a searing kiss, removing his hand. In a swift motion, it returns to the grip on his thigh and Minho slams his hips upward, making Jisung cry out. He swallows the sounds, repeating the motions with such fervor Jisung feels lightheaded. He fumbles to hold Minho by his biceps, whining each time Minho’s cock hits his prostate directly.
Jisung isn’t sure how Minho has the energy for this after everything, but he finds it ridiculously attractive. He whimpers through each thrust, his body overwhelmed with pleasure.
Minho’s motions begin to stagger as he tires, so Jisung tries to take over. He holds on tightly to Minho’s biceps, digging his nails in as he pulls himself up and nearly off Minho’s cock, only to drop himself back down in such a fast movement Minho sucks in a breath. The sound makes Jisung preen, so he continues at as quickly of a pace as his thighs will allow.
“Feel good, baby?” Jisung manages, panting between words.
Minho is breathless, his eyes trained on the space between them where Jisung’s own erection slaps against his stomach with each bounce.
In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, Jisung leans down and presses his lips to the shell of Minho’s ear.
“You like that? When I fuck myself on your cock?”
Minho groans, tipping back and narrowing his eyes at Jisung’s smirk. His hands slide up to Jisung’s hips and he holds Jisung in place as he begins to snap his hips upward roughly. Jisung gasps, nearly losing his hold on Minho’s biceps as waves of pleasure roll through his body.
He leans back, the angle causing Minho to abuse his prostate repeatedly. Jisung’s body numbs to everything but pleasure, his torso falling back only to be held in place by Minho.
“Did you think you were in charge, honey?”
Minho’s tone is condescending, and Jisung knows if he were to look at him, his cat-like smirk would be on full display. Jisung keeps his head leaned back, his eyes closed as Minho doesn’t relent in his rapid movements.
The room is filled with nothing but their mixture of groans and whimpers, Jisung unable to even form a solid thought as his peak nears for the second time.
“Shit, honey.” He hears Minho breathe, his voice rough. Jisung only whines. “Baby, look.”
Minho’s hand slides to Jisung’s lower stomach, his other hand keeping a firm grip around the back of his hip. Jisung is sluggish to pull his head back down, but when he looks he sees Minho’s fingers ghosting over a bump in his skin.
It takes Jisung a moment to realize Minho has stopped snapping his hips up, his cock buried to the hilt inside Jisung.
“Is that—“
“Yeah, baby. That’s me.”
Jisung whines and without warning, his orgasm hits full force. He moans loud as he comes over their abdomens for a second time, dribbling pathetically onto his stomach and smearing Minho’s in the process.
Minho doesn’t even move as his peak hits, his hips pushing up further into Jisung’s as he spills into him.
They’re both breathless as they come down from their highs, panting and leaning their foreheads together.
“That was so fucking hot.” Minho laughs out, pausing between words to breathe.
Jisung just huffs, letting his weight fall forward onto the man below him. Minho groans as he holds him up, but he helps them both to lay down, slipping out of Jisung and causing a whine at the empty feeling.
Minho leans back and holds Jisung in his arms, Jisung’s dead weight nearly completely on top of him.
There’s not a single thought running through Jisung’s head and he feels numb from the pleasure, humming softly as Minho’s fingers run through his hair. The motions are comforting, nearly drawing Jisung to fall asleep. It’s a peaceful moment, one Jisung hadn’t expected after months of tension and anger.
He feels disgusting, sticky with sweat and cum both on his stomach and leaking out of him, but he’s content. Jisung relishes in the feeling for as long as he can, not wanting to part from Minho just yet.
Minho continues to run his hands through Jisung’s hair, bringing them both to a comfortable silence.
Jisung eventually rolls to the side and onto his back, the feeling of their skin sticking together becoming uncomfortable. He stays close enough that Minho’s hand doesn’t leave his hair, continuing its ministrations through the strands.
“So,” Minho drawls out after a while, his chest rising and falling slowly. “Are you going to take them down now?”
Jisung chuckles, turning on his side to face Minho.
“That was already sort of the plan this afternoon. But thanks for the extra convincing.”