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Summary
“But.” There’s that damn smirk again. “We could do something else.”
Seungmin tilts his head. He’s still terribly horny despite this little detour, and if that doesn’t say anything about how far gone Seungmin is, then he doesn’t know what would. “Like what?”
“Oh come on, Kim Seungmin,” Minho drawls. “You’re smarter than that.”
In Seungmin’s very real, very legal defense, it’s kind of hard to concentrate when so much of Minho is on display for the taking.
Minho huffs like he’s offended Seungmin hasn’t figured it out, but there’s an amused quality to it that Seungmin easily picks up on. “My thighs are still an option. Get yourself together, Kim Seungmin.”
