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Summary
Jisung’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, soft and pink as he takes a breath, trying to find his words. Idly, Minho salivates.
“Hyung, I,” he begins, shaky and desperate, his fingers curling into the fabric of Minho’s shirt. So sweet, so precious. “I need you.”
Minho only hums, his thumb trailing down to the plush, pillowy pink of Jisung’s lower lip. “Need me to do what, Sungie?”
Jisung opens his mouth — whether to whine or protest, Minho is unsure — but quickly snaps it back shut, taking a breath and finding his words, just how Minho trained him to. Pride flickers dimly in his chest. “I need,” Jisung gets out, blinking those wide, prey eyes as his full, pretty cheeks flush further. “I need you to-”
Minho takes pity on him. “You need me to fuck you, baby?”