Magari
(Open, Moderated)
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Summary
Jisung turns his head to give Minho an angry squint. “I feel like you’re trying to trick me. I don’t know how, or for what reason, but you are.”
Minho isn’t looking at him anymore, scrolling on his phone, gracing Jisung with his ridiculous side profile. “I would never trick you,” he says, voice as flat as the plains of Colorado.
“That sounds like something someone who’s trying to trick me would say.”
“Jisung.”
“What.”
“Come here.” He clicks his phone off and sets it on the nightstand between their beds, then pats his thigh.
“What?” Jisung short circuits for a moment. Minho wants him to… what? Sit on his thigh? Isn’t that a little forward? That has to be skipping at least ten steps. They’ve only known each other for, like, less than 72 hours. And a majority of that was spent antagonizing one another.
“I said come here.” And he pats his thigh again as if that’s a completely normal thing to do.
or
jisung goes on the most miserable road trip of his life and meets a hitchhiker named rhino.
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“Jisung. My dick. Is out,” Minho snarls.
Jisung makes a strangled noise. “What—what are you—”
“Knitting a fucking sweater. What do you think?”
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Minho’s plan was simple: jerk off, send a nude, move on. What he didn’t plan for, however, was sending it to Jisung—or getting one in return. Now they're locked in a gradually worsening sex spiral, fueled by mutual avoidance and an alarming lack of impulse control, and Minho’s doing his best to act normal while everything inside him slowly catches fire.
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Minho’s breath was stolen when the boy looked up, his insanely wide, pretty eyes sparkling with embarrassment and worry, igniting something in his chest.
He breathed in deeply, and the faintest scent hit him—sweet like honey. An omega’s scent. But even if he hadn’t smelled him, his soft features, wide eyes, and flawless face were incredibly omega-like.
What surprised him was that he didn’t find his scent overwhelming. Usually, those with honey scents were far too sweet, thick, and sticky. But his was light, just enough to tickle his nose and make him breathe in a little deeper.
Or thirty-seven-year-old alpha Minho meets twenty-four-year-old omega Jisung, who works at the new convenience store across from his company. He learns quickly that Jisung has an eight-year-old son, and that behind his admirable strength, is a deeply painful past.
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“It was nice to meet you,” Minho said, and Jisung had no idea why his heart was racing. His touch was so gentle that Jisung almost couldn’t believe it—he’d expected those muscles to accidentally crush his fingers in his grip.
“Yeah, same,” he said, his voice barely coming out.
He saw Minho eyeing the brace he was wearing, his eyebrows furrowing as he gently ran his fingertips over the padding of it.
“With me, you’d never get hurt like this,” Minho said confidently, and Jisung could feel the blush rushing to his cheeks. “That’s a promise.”
or what happens when Minho becomes the bodyguard for the famous rockstar Han Jisung?
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Summary
"What did you just say?" Minho froze in place, his eyes locked on the blond figure before him. In three long strides, he crossed the distance between them, the ground vanishing beneath his feet. He grasped the creature gently by the shoulders
"Did you just say my name? Say it again" Startled by the sudden outburst, the alien recoiled, fear flickering in his eyes. His retreat forced Minho back two steps, as if the distance between them was meant to remain.
Or: what happens when two creatures from different worlds meet and fall in love, but cannot coexist on the same planet?