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Summary
“So,” Jisung says, pressing his ass back into where Minho is well on the way to being fully hard. Minho buries a moan into the side of Jisung’s neck. “Sounds like you might be hungry then.”
If it were any other time, if Jisung was pairing his words with a cartoonish wink or an oversized grin, this line of dirty talk would make Minho wince. As is, maybe it’s because of how tired he is, or because of how shaky Jisung’s voice already is, or maybe it’s those damn shorts, but the words fill his whole body with heat, like he’s back under the near molten spray of the shower he stepped out of mere minutes ago.
“I think I might be.”
(or, Jisung gets a new pair of shorts, and Minho gets hungry.)