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Summary
Jaemin pauses, letting a delicate little smirk rest on the edge of his lips. “I have an idea.”
Jisung sighs, instantly deflating into the covers, and yanking the blanket up around him. “Hyung,” he mumbles. His cheeks are pink, lips nearly just as flushed, bitten and plum red. Jaemin wants to kiss him. “Can I like, at least, go shower before you start devising new ways to torture me?”
“Sure,” Jaemin allows pleasantly, leaning back against the sheets and stretching luxuriously. “Go for it.”
“I notice you didn’t quibble the torture part,” Jisung mutters.
