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Summary
In a split second he’s whipping the material, slapping it against Jisung’s thigh with a crack. He whimpers in pain and Minho has to twist his other hand into a fist to stop himself from grabbing him.
“Hyung’s mean,” Jisung mumbles as he gets back into position, reaching forward to grab the handles of the weight machine. Minho makes his way up behind him, back against his chest, and lays his chin on the younger’s shoulder.
“Hyung will be nice,” he mutters up against the younger’s ear, relishing in the shiver that travels down his spine. “Just be good.”