Archive of Our Own

"Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Take the fucking shot, Jisung."

"No, because i don't agree!"

"Yes you do, c'mon."

"Shut the fuck up Lee."

"Ouh.. fiesty."

Jisung's absolutely cornered, he's never been a put in a situation such as this, and it's catastrophic.

They've circled him, drinks in their hands and evil, conniving looks on their faces.

Any doubt he'd had that this was a bad, bad idea had vanished. This has been a horrible idea, actually.

There's a few, simple rules his life has revolved around. They're simply lifestyle rules he's set for himself, ones he'd never overstep.

They were rules like cereal before milk, keeping the tv volume at an even number, better at a number ending with a zero, little things like that.

It was stuff he'd be internally yelling at others for not following, while he went home and lived with these ethical rules.

Until it evolved. His rules, they became things he'd never ever dare to overstep, never not follow.

It's when a certain tall, all too well knowing literal cunt waltzed his way into Jisung's life.

Lee Minho, 23, much taller than him than Jisung would like to admit and a pure throbbing pain in the arse. He's around more times in a day than Jisung sees himself in the god damn mirror, which he thought was an unbreakable record.

It all ties to Hyunjin, 21, even taller than his best friend, Lee Minho, with a knack of wrecking havoc straight into Jisung's life. He's insisted the two rivals, Minho and Jisung, should work it out together and be best buddies, build chocolate houses together and eat ice cream with each other as a hobby, stuff along the lines of that.

It's an ignored fact that Jisung's tried, several times to convince him that's never, ever happening. In his own defence, he tried, he really did. But when witty little Minho grinned down at him with his stupid smirk, bent down to his level just to give him another one of his mighty pats and tell him,

"You wouldn't even have to bend to suck me senseless, darling."

That's when Jisung first punched him straight in the face. It's where their rivalry first began, a small spark burning into a huge fire, enough to tear forests down.

Minho's been shooting quips at him ever since, and he's not been afraid to say some right back. They're snarky remarks, meant to annoy him, oh and don't they succeed.

He doesn't make it obvious that he's annoyed, but plays along with Minho's scheme, only to give up later when Minho's keen on pushing his buttons to the extent.

He's never once caught him slacking, he's always there by Hyunjin's side, just to yell something at Jisung while he's speaking to their mutual best friend.

It makes Jisung wonder if Minho's genuinely tagging along beside Hyunjin just to catch a glimpse of him, because he has no reason to otherwise.

They don't share classes at university, or anything of the sorts, so he has no way to meet him other than their oh so popular best friend. Hyunjin's expressed his frustration about their feud all too many times, even tried to make them apologise for arguing over such a petty reason.

It's all come down to ego, a monster keeping them from giving in. Jisung believes Minho highly deserved that punch and that kick to the balls that one time while the other contradicts him by saying it was simply a joke.

It's what made him set those rules. They'd begun revolving completely around Minho and Minho only. Don't talk to Minho, don't look at Minho, don't talk about Minho and lastly, his newest dilemma, do not, at any costs, be attracted to Lee Minho.

He didn't know much about Minho's love life, nor was he interested, but if curiosity had killed the cat, it had yet to catch up with him.

He found himself going down and further down into a rabbit hole, searching about Minho, only to find nothing. He'd even brought it up with Hyunjin, only to learn Minho's only ever dated once and that was all the way back in high school with a random guy for a week that began with a drunk fuck. He'd known Minho back in high school, hell, he'd even gone to prom with him due to unfortunate circumstances.

Other than that, absolutely nothing. Hyunjin even told him he doesn't even do one night stands after the last disaster with that guy.

Curiousity, poisonous yet so addictive.

She's what brought him to this moment, curiousity, brought him to a moment where he's forced to drink if he finds Lee Minho attractive, or do a fucking dare.

He's on the verge of yelling at Minho who thought of this horrendous thing of a question, now simply smiling ever so innocently with Jisung's drink in his hands.

The younger only came just because he wanted an in on how Minho is really like when he isn't being a stupid little shit. Turns out, he isn't mean to anyone but Jisung, in fact, he's actually nice.

Somehow, that made him hate him more. He assumes he was seeking closure on the fact that Minho really was a mean cunt to everyone but no, this guy had to be an angel dropped directly from heaven.

"Take the shot, darling, you know it's the truth." He towers over him again, so close to him. Their height difference isn't even as huge as he describes it, just about four or five inches.

Jisung considers himself tall, if he wasn't being overshadowed by the six footer in front of him. Five foot nine isn't a horrible height to be, per se. It was actually a pretty average height.

But when Minho, six foot three, steps into the limelight, it's as if he doesn't even exist.

"You wouldn't catch me dead drinking anything to your name."

"And you'll find yourself doing quite the opposite soon enough."

The last bit of their argument is a whisper, uttered directly into his ear. This. It's things like this that have Jisung struggling to stay within the boundaries of his self bounding rules, not pounce at Minho and shut his flirting down.

The taller simply winks down at him, cheeky grin on his face as he delights in the way he flusters Jisung.

Jisung simply shares a look with him as he walks off, chooses that drink to be his own and sips on it. He clears his throat, telling Hyunjin he chooses dare instead.

"You'll regret what I have in mind." He warns him, looks directly at Minho while he says it. Jisung supposes that should've been enough of a hint, but of course, he didn't catch it soon enough.

"As long as it isn't admitting I'm attracted to that thing over there." He says, a bit drunkenly as he had taken a few drinks just prior.

"So you are, then?"

"Shut up, Hwang." He says, smacks him on the shoulder.

"Mm, fine."

It's diabolical, the rise of his lips as he looks between Jisung and Minho, clears his throat and declares his next dare all too loudly.

"I dare Jisung to be cuffed to Minho for the next thirty minutes."

Minho and Jisung, it's so sudden, simultaneous, how they both choke on their drinks, spit them out to the nearest available place and yell out a loud and clear refusal.

"It's thirty minutes, c'mon, don't be a fucking pussy." Jeongin says, drags Jisung up from his coughing fit at the drinks counter of the bar.

"The dare is for him, it's torture for me." Minho says, absolutely refuses instantly.

"Mhm, yeah." Hyunjin says, makes his way over to Minho only to lean down and whisper something into his ears, which immediately had him sober and listening.

And just as Jisung's recovering from coughing, still spitting out words that sounds like never, no, Minho, never, Minho's already standing and walking to him.

"Hyunjin offered me twenty dollars, you're being fucking cuffed to me." He says, grabs Jisung's wrist and turns a blind eye to his loud protests.

He tries to fight against it, he really does, but Minho's way too strong for him alone. Hyunjin only grins, locks both their wrists together in the handcuffs, pockets the key.

"Now don't go tearing apart each other, it's only for thirty minutes." He shrugs, while Jisung threatens to claw out his hair.

Minho yawns, makes sure to use the hand cuffed to the little black haired boy to cover his mouth, forcing him to raise his arms to the boy's height.

This was pure agony.

Jisung elbows him, forcing him to smack the younger back.

He rolls his eyes at him, tugs him towards himself. Minho doesn't even pretend to budge, unaffected by Jisung's nonexistent strength against him.

"Quit trying, and shortie, want the money or no?"

Jisung huffs, gives up on fighting against Minho as the game of truth and dare travels down their little table.

He watches as the second hand ticks in his wristwatch, groans at how slow ten minutes can be.

When it does finally hit eleven thirty, he calls for Hyunjin instantly, who's busy drinking and chatting away with his friends.

"Eager to leave?" Minho whispers in his ear, tugging at their linked arms.

"Who wouldn't be?" He whispers right back.

"I can name a few who wouldn't."

"Uhhh... guys?"

They turn to see Hyunjin, frantically searching for something.

Jisung looks down at their linked wrists, then back to a panicked Hyunjin smiling stupidly at them.

"So.. i might've lost the key.." he says, scratches the back of his head in an attempt to appear innocent.

It's as if Jisung's been told he'll be spending the rest of his days locked in the same room as a demon straight out of one of the Conjuring films, but oh lord wouldn't he prefer that to the snarky man sitting next to him, smirking at him.

"I'm going to kill you." He yells, pulling Minho behind him as he rushes to Hyunjin, who only manages to make it far enough from the two to have enough hair left on his head.

It's close to hitting midnight, and this wasn't what Jisung expected himself to be doing, marching down the street with Hyunjin and an only too gleeful Lee Minho being tugged along behind him. They're going right down to the shop Hyunjin got those stupid handcuffs from, which Jisung literally could not break out of even after a year worth of tries.

However, Jisung's met with a sight so disappointing he could drop dead right that second and it would be the better way out. There's a sign plastered onto the large glass door, with the words "CLOSED TILL MONDAY" scribbled on them.

Today was Friday.

He looks at Minho, who only flashes him a toothy grin, complete with all thirty two teeth. Right, it may be equivalent for going through the depths of Tartarus for one of them, but for the other it was as if he was being taken on a stroll through a park.

"Relax.. it's not a big deal. You'll be stuck with me. It'll be the best thing in the world, don't you think?" He leans down to his level, cocks an eyebrow and simply smirks.

Jisung stares up at him, stupid frown on his face. Being attracted to this giant would've been fine, would've been controllable.

But potentially having to sleep in the same room having to eat with him, having to use the restroom with him? There was no way he was being paid just twenty bucks for this.

"We'll see about that."

"Yeah? C'mon little boy, it's getting late. We gotta put you to sleep already, no?" He coos, solely with the intention of pulling at his nerves.

"We're going to my house." Jisung declares, leaving no room for discussion.

"So eager to have me in your bed already? I say at least take me out on a date and i might consider the offer." He shrugs, leaving Jisung's eye twitching with irritation.

"Are we going or not?" He asks, tugs his wrist forward as an attempt to annoy him into obeying.

"I dunno, I don't really fancy sleeping in a bed that won't even fit my knees in it.." He puts a hand to his chin, looking up at the dark sky and pretends as if he's thinking but he knows all he's doing is infuriating an already mad Jisung.

"Oh please, as if you're some Collosal Titan?" He argues right back. The supposed quip has Minho smiling brightly as ever, like the sun was out and about for a long tiring day and he's finally been blessed with showers of rain.

"So you think I am?"

"What? No!"

"Ah, how annoying it would be to have to fit a Colossal Titan in your little dwarf b―"

Jisung gives him a kick to the foot, enough to have him cursing in pain and agreeing to sleep at his place.

Hyunjin's already disappeared off as soon as Jisung had gotten distracted by Minho, potentially saving his bloodline.

They stay close by, grace of the stupid invincible handcuffs that have them joined at the hip. The metal cuffs jingle between them as they walk, for once without yelling at the other.

Jisung looks at Minho, just once and finds his shaggy hair brushing against his eyes. That has to be annoying, right?

The taller looks down at the stony gray pavement as he walks, tugging his lip between his teeth. Jisung has an annoying urge to brush away the hair that covers his forehead.

Don't find Lee Minho attractive.

Right. Rule that shall never be broken.

He suppresses the urge, which does threaten to pop out many, several times.

The door shuts behind Minho as he walks into Jisung's apartment, his space. Where he sleeps, lives, works and..

He'd rather not think about that.

They're encompassed in dead silence of the the impending night, and it finally hits Minho that he's agreed to sleep in his house, with him, all alone.

Alone with Han Jisung.

Wasn't that what he's been fantasizing about ever since the day his eyes met the younger's? Then why do his feet stutter like a young boy confessing to his crush when they're dared to take a step further?

There's a little glass wall of doubt separating Jisung and him, doubt that dwells on whether he really should be doing this.

"You're sleeping on the floor."

A boulder is thrown at the wall. It breaks into pieces so large they threaten to cut into their skins.

The thought of sleeping on Jisung's bedroom floor while the younger's hands dangle down in pain for his convenience? It disgusts him.

"No I'm not."

"Fine, then get on I'm sleeping down." He says, disheartened, tired voice breaking the silence of the quiet, eerie night.

Jisung completely forgot to turn the lights on, and he realizes that just now, when he faces Minho's dark, gloomy silhouette that hovers him, a crow in a sky full of ravens.

"Listen here, darling." Minho's fingers navigate their way to Jisung's jaw, lift it up into incoherency, a way that has his mind riding inside a Ferris Wheel that's gone too off track. "Neither of us is sleeping on the floor, especially not you."

Jisung's body shuts down. It's like water is spilled all over the circuits of his brain and he forgets what it's like to breathe, to speak, to have coherent words leave his mouth. It's so dark, yet― yet, it's so easy to see the details of Minho's face, grace of the moonlight that seeps in through his curtains. His lips, so perfect and pouty, and his nose, so long and sharp like it would cut through fire if it pleased so.

His eyes, silk so fine it could tie itself around his neck and squeeze. His mouth threatens to let out a whimper, and the thought of it shames him into nodding his head. Obeying. Giving into the desire, if only a fraction of it was satisfied just yet.

"Yes, yes― okay." He shivers, shrugs Minho's fingers off of his face. "What side do you want?"

Anything for him, even giving up his favourite part of the bed. The rules fly out the window.

"Left is okay." He says, going to switch on the bedside lamp.

"Yeah..  I need to change, fuck, how―"

"Take me to your closet."

It's a request, not a demand, but it certainly sounds like one. Jisung trembles under his heavy gaze, and his head clouds with fog so strong it makes him dizzy.

He leads him to it and Minho faces the other way, quiet instruction for him to just change.

The metal clinks as Minho's hand is dragged up and then down as Jisung changes out of his clothes, into what looks like a pair of comfortable blue sweats.

He tries to ignore it, but the sounds of the zipper of his jacket being opened, his pants sliding to the floor and being tossed to the side, it all drives him crazy. Drives his mind crazy, complete with scenarios of how it could've been his hands undoing his clothes.

Jisung quietly hands him a black hoodie along with sweatpants of the same colour. "They're my biggest, so make it work." He mumbles, and turns his back to Minho once more.

Now it's his turn to hear Minho's denims slip to the floor, then his dress shirt, which he sleekly  remembers had its top two buttons undone. He isn't any better than Minho himself, but he isn't aware the man behind him fantasizes about him more than he can ever.

it's the slow slide of his hands against his buttons, undoing them with equal attention to each of them which has Jisung swallowing quietly, ignoring the pit of heat in his stomach and the chaos in his brain which told him to turn, look. Admire what he knows is a built body, all belonging to Minho the way it deserves to be admired.

His hand of course, has to play its part by being lifted while the buttons are undone, and that only adds fuel to the fire that rages inside him. The metal clinks, the shirt is tossed upon the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minho's arm, all of it, and the sight renders his mouth dry.

Fine, strong veins that begin from his fingertips travel their way to where Jisung is limited to see. There's simply so many of them, and then he realizes if that hand were to choke him, he wouldn't even make it out alive. He realizes that the thought of that turns him on beyond salvation, turns him on to the point where he knows it'll be impossible to return.

He can't afford to get horny, not today, not tomorrow, not as long as he's tied to Minho and definitely never to thoughts of Minho breaking him, tearing him apart. No matter how tempted he was.

"Even if your eyes aren't directly on me, y'know I can still feel you staring, don't you?"

Jisung coughs, sputtering out heavy denials, saying he isn't staring and what not. He decides that the embarrassment is enough to last him a lifetime, and drags Minho to the washroom so he can brush his teeth and then put an end to this horrible excuse of a day.

Minho allows himself to be dragged, just this once, because this allows him to stare at Jisung, even if it's only his back he can stare at. He watches pliantly as Jisung brushes, waiting to receive his own toothbrush.

He's handed one that's basically a replica of Jisung's, just a slightly darker shade of blue.

Jisung suppresses any and all urges to use the restroom, because he would not be doing that with Lee Minho anywhere near him. Now, all he hopes is that Minho doesn't have to take an intergalactic shit anytime soon, either. But of course, he will soon enough. Never would he ever give up the opportunity to torment a disgusted Han Jisung.

They shut off the lamps, close the curtains and Jisung mentally prepares himself to sleep right next to the boy he dreads even seeing. Minho lets him get into bed first, then slips under the covers, as invisible as a snake slipping into a garden.

Jisung hears his own breath hitch as the metal clinks fill the heavy air. Minho turns his back to Jisung and vice versa, before he mumbles almost inaudible, "good night."

The younger will most definitely embarrass himself.

As much as Jisung knows about Minho, willingly or unwillingly, the one thing he never thought about was what Minho did on the weekends.

And how fucking early he woke up on them.

Exam season had just gotten out of the way, and it was literally the first peaceful weekend Jisung was expecting. He'd been looking forward to three, or two and a half days of solace and peace, solidarity and alone time where he could bask in his favourite things, lie in bed and watch tv the entire day.

Of course, he's already derived that he wouldn't be able to have his dream weekend anytime soon, but he had most definitely not planned on waking up anytime before 10 striked his stupid old clock.

Except, the dreams of a restful sleep were flushed down the toilet the moment Minho's phone started vibrating right by Jisung's ear, and the warm covers were ripped off of him, almost immediately.

"What the fuck, dude?" He groans, brushing away the hair from his eyes and tasting the warm, disgusting taste of sleep in his mouth.

"Wake up, we have somewhere to be." Minho claps right by his right ear, the metal cuffs adding to the noise. Jisung groans and buries his head under the white haven.

How nice it would've been, to hide in here far and away from Minho and his stupid six am routine for three whole days.

But of course, his haven is torn away.

"Firstly, I'm gonna make us some breakfast, which I can't do without shoving your sleepy hell of an ass down this bed, then we're gonna take a shower, one way or another, because I'm not staying filthy, and trust me I'm inviting you to look as much as you'd like. Lastly, we have to attend my Saturday dance class."

Jisung throws his head back against the pillow, groans against his palms. "And what about my day? Why should I aid you, of all people? You're the one who wanted those stupid ten bucks anyway."

"Twenty, and i still want them. So tell me, what do you have to do today? I'm sure I can manage."

"Well..." Words fail Jisung, and he realises, he wasn't even gonna do anything at all.

"Shopping? Dinner? We can fit it into my routine, but you'll have to co-operate whether you like it or not. And maybe, we can find a way to get out of these things." He shakes their wrists, and Jisung whines in pain on the bed.

Minho tugs him out and he lands with a thud on his grey carpeted floor, another pained and troubled noise leaving his mouth.

"I'm gonna kill Hyunjin.." he mumbles, as he's pulled up and into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

They go by their morning routine as they did their night's, ignoring each other as well as they could, but still sneaking pesky little glances in the mirror.

By some miracle, Jisung hasn't needed to use the washroom yet, but he knows the bliss of ignorance won't last forever. They can't neglect their needs for a two whole days.

"Shower or breakfast first?"

"Breakfast, thanks." He mumbles, rinsing his mouth. He'd postpone the dreadfulness as much as he could.

Minho nods, and they leave the washroom, the taller ahead as usual. His arm is starting to hurt for the convenience of the shorter, having to drag him around behind him.

"Jesus, you don't have anything." He comments as he's leaned down to the shelf which looks to be the tallest in Jisung's house.

"Well, excuse me for not belonging to the richest family in California, apologies. Your bloodline would have a stroke if they found out you slept in the bed of a commoner such as I, no?"

Minho scoffs, the roll of his eyes enough to make Jisung look away, annoyed. "Honestly, they would."

There's silence for a minute, neither of them have any idea what to do next, what to make for breakfast which they could both collectively agree on, something that probably wouldn't happen if the gods of Olympus themselves wished for it to.

"Pancakes?"

"Waffles?"

They speak simultaneously, and their disgusted expressions match each other's as they step away.

"Imagine preferring pancakes to waffles." The older scoffs, stepping closer, refusing to let Jisung have the upper hand, especially in this matter.

"Oh yeah? Waffles are literally pancakes with fucking dents in them."

They're in close proximity again, face to face.

"Yeah? Well, of course you enjoy pancakes as flat as your ass."

Jisung gasps, and Minho takes that opportunity to shove a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, as he chokes around it.

"We're having cereal. You have no ingredients for either waffles or pancakes."

Jisung coughs uselessly, mumbling curses as Minho lifts him effortlessly and places him on the counter.

It's a blessing his kitchen is really small, or they'd have insane amounts of trouble moving around for ingredients.

Once they're done with yet another loud breakfast, it's the time Jisung dreads.

Minho drags him into the showers despite his protests, and tells him to turn around and change.

It's a nightmare. Changing in front of the guy he's so often thought of naked? He doesn't think it's in him.

They face away from each other the entire time, only occasionally touching arms. Jisung insisted he uses an entirely different shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and wears the same clothes as yesterday.

Minho agrees to all of the above, he has to of course. Jisung's tolerating what's entirely his fault, he could take this little blow of living in clothes the size of an ant.

The shower is more peaceful than he expected. Jisung would've almost forgotten Minho's even there unless the cuffs hadn't reminded him.

it's a blessing when it finally ends, when Jisung can finally slip into his own clothes. What isn't a blessing is how he can see glimpses of Minho's skin the entire time, and how insane it has him. He's thought of this same body so many times, and it's a sin every time he does, but he's so close, it's so hard to keep himself from turning fully.

It's finally ten when they're done with everything, and now for the next two hours, it's Minho's dance hours.

Which means it's Jisung's dance hours too.

Hyunjin won't have a hair left on his head after he's done with him.

He can't dance for shit, and he knows Minho can, because Hyunjin dances with him. And if Hyunjin dances with him, he's guaranteed a god at it. If the taller knows what's best for him, he won't show up to the studio.

And he doesn't, but those who do.. it's enough to have Jisung sink into himself. He's never even tried to dance, and the people here, fuck, he could tell they were really good just by the way they dressed and walked.

"Nervous?"

"Well, no shit. I couldn't dance if my life was on it." He groans into his hands. Minho's palm goes to pet him on the back, a rich chuckle leaving his lips.

"I'm sure you're not that bad.." Minho assures.

He was that bad. He was worse. He was more horrible than anything Minho had ever seen before.

But to him, it was still the most beautiful thing ever.

Jisung was so beautiful like this, laughing and trying his best to do the one move he couldn't, ignoring that he hasn't even learnt the basics yet.

Whenever he fell, Minho's had to go down with them. This is the first time he's seen Jisung laugh. No, scratch that.

This is the first time Jisung's laughed with him.

Because of him. And it's all because he chose to be cuffed to him.

His laughs are music to his ear, and his bird-like dance is more pleasing than anything he's ever experienced.

Their choreographer laughs when Minho explains their predicament and tells Minho he could simply watch the practice if he pleased so.

Jisung watches their entire interaction with daggers in his eyes and he knows this is so stupid, being jealous over Minho's choreographer talking to him. Being jealous over Minho? Idiocy.

His name is apparently Joshua, and he's just a year older than Minho himself, healthy pitch black hair and tall, really, really tall. Perhaps as tall as Hyunjin, or a bit more. Exactly what Jisung would assume is Minho's type in men. It's certainly not someone who's shorter than him, seeing the way he basically torments the shorter.

He watches how Minho's thumb slides against Joshua's hand, how calloused fingers meet Minho's veiny ones and rub against the back of his hand as Minho smiles ever so sweetly. He insists on addressing the older with formalities, both being Koreans by birth, but he's never demanded that Hyunjin or Jisung address him with formalities, or vice versa.

It makes the fiery pit coiling inside Jisung burn harder with envy when he notices Joshua's sleek cheekbones, his sharp jawline so threatening it could cut sharp as a blade, yet eyes so soft they'd leave a person gawking.

If this was the average person Minho hung out with, he definitely has no chance. Not that he wants one.. but assurance is always nice.

"And you are?"

Words fail him when he's directly spoken to by a man so attractive it makes his throat contract. Shit, he doesn't know if this man is Minho's type but he definitely is Jisung's. What was his name again?

He feels heat crawl up to his face, can feel how he reddens and how embarrassment courses through his brain. "Uh.. Jisung. I'm.. his friend." He finally mumbles, feeling more shy than he has in centuries.

Minho notices how red Jisung is of course, and it's infuriating, because it's not him that's causing it. It never is, and it won't ever be. His eyes switch to Joshua who has his flirting smile on, who gives Jisung's shoulder a pat. Such a friendly and innocent little action, yet he notices the underlining meaning, notices how Jisung looks so weak in the knees that he wouldn't be standing upright if it wasn't for Minho.

If he gets Joshua alone, he would be getting beat up right then.

They're finally excused and Joshua tells them to dance right at the back or sit down on the brown leather couch. Minho chooses the former.

"Y'know, he's not into men."

Lies. He's one hundred percent gay and Jisung is exactly his type.

"Oh.. why? Are you jealous?"

Minho stretches, forcing Jisung to comply. "And if i am?"

He receives silence.

Then, "Guess we'll have to do something about that."

Gosh, this boy would be the death of him.

Minho tries to keep his hands to himself for the most part throughout the two hours, but it seems as if Joshua has it out for him today. Firstly, he tells them they'll have to dance in partners, meaning of course, Minho will have to dance with Jisung.

And secondly, he tells them they'll have to dance to a love song. A slow, sultry and provocative love song at that.

Minho would prefer being run over with a car than this. And it's not because he has to dance with his crush, but dance while being cuffed with him, meaning being as close as they possibly could.

His hands go to Jisung's waist, and he can see the back of his neck turn a cherry pink. There's an involuntary smirk on his face, maybe he's capable of bringing the same effect as Joshua after all. Said man is dancing with a guy himself and Minho turns Jisung around, hikes his leg up to his chest as he's instructed to and Jisung grins at their close proximity, turns his head to Joshua and his partner.

"He doesn't look very straight to me. Grinding on his partner like that?" He scoffs. Minho really was desperate for him, all the more fun.

"Then i assume he's changed his mind." Minho grins, turns Jisung around with the hand that wasn't cuffed.

"Hmm, i doubt that."

Jisung's arms go around Minho and suddenly it's just them alone in the studio, no Joshua, no music.

He graces his hands against Minho's jaw with his thumb, smirks so pretty it could be kissed off his lips right then.

"Has he changed his mind, or was it just you lying to me so i wouldn't run off with him and suck his dick instead of yours?"

Minho nuzzles his face in Jisung's neck, cuffed hand only hovering around his waist as they swayed.

"Whatever you'd like to believe, darling."

Jisung hates him.

☆

Jisung used to believe he's experienced what being tired feels like. He knows he was tired on his homecoming in high school where he had to go with Minho instead of Hyunjin as they'd originally decided, he knows he was tired after his high school graduation and its afterparty, one of the best days of his life where, for once, he didn't have to deal with Minho and his annoying tricks.

If that was being tired, this felt like he had been whipped in the legs with a sledgehammer and told to walk thirty miles afterwards. He feels beyond pathetic because Minho, Joshua and everyone else there with their amazing stamina and god-gifted talent were still doing just fine. The two hour mark had already hit ten minutes ago, but it seemed like no one here really cared about that.

And he had thought he'd seen good dancers, but fuck that, this place was full of people who danced as good as Hyunjin. Minho was a neck to neck competitor with Hyunjin, and Jisung felt like he was only holding the older back from dancing to his full extent, but that didn't really bother him all that much.

When, twenty minutes later, Joshua finally catches sight of a red and sweaty Jisung, he chuckles, gives his partner a pat on the back and brings the session to an end.

Jisung basically drags Minho out to the door, who only laughs and complies, when they're stopped by Joshua, once again.

Minho groans internally.

"Hey, Jisung, not much of a dancer, are you?" He chuckles, fetches a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbles something on it with a pen that looked as expensive as Jisung's entire bloodline.

Jisung glows red with embarrassment.

"Uh.. yeah, no i don't really consider myself a dancer, really." He chuckles out nervously.

"Well, if you ever feel like learning all of a sudden, here's my phone number, contact me whenever." He shoots him a polite smile while handing him the paper.

When he does walk away, Jisung grins up at Minho.

"Are you still sure he's straight?" He chuckles, waves the paper in his face. Minho grabs it and tosses it into the nearest bin available. Jisung laughs.

"Too bad, i'm good at memorizing. Especially phone numbers."

Minho frowns to himself.

Jisung climbs into the passenger seat of Minho's Audi with a shit ton of struggle, but he gets it done somehow.

Minho's adamant about taking him to a restaurant for lunch, with reasonings that Jisung wouldn't know of.

When Minho demands he keep his hand at a very certain angle so he can drive without any struggle, Jisung barely buries down an eye roll.

And when they're finally a fraction of the way there, Jisung's phone dings in his pants.

"Not gonna take that?" Minho asks, while his right hand rights against the window.

"No, I'd move and you wouldn't be able to drive. Contrary to popular belief, i value my life."

Minho scoffs, and Jisung hates himself for finding the action quite endearing.

"There's enough time, go ahead."

Jisung doesn't keep the eye roll hidden away this time around, and goes to check his phone, surprised that the text is in fact from his once best friend.

The irony.

Right, Hyunjin would be getting his arse beat when Jisung saw him again.

Traitor
so...
you've been having fun with minho I hope?

when I get my hands on you.

wow, I'm so scared
terrified
r u guys having fun tho

wudda you think.

that ur having so so so
much fun you'll leave
hair on my head this time

m having fun alright
lock ur windows

funny how a door doesn't
even cross ur mind

why dont you try being handcuffed
with a person you hate for a weeknd?
when I cuff you to that
seungmin guy you'll understand
that doors r no fun when it comes to
manslaughter

🧍

Their conversation goes on for a bit longer, and Jisung attempts to ignore the way he sees Minho's eyes piercing his phone screen the entire time.

What a nosy prick.

"This seems an awful lot like a date." Jisung exclaims when the waiter drops the food off at their table and leaves, shooting an acknowledging glance at their linked hands.

For Minho and his ambidextrous self, eating without his left hand is nothing but an irritating liability. But for the boy on the other side of the table, eating with his left hand was like trying to eat ramen noodles with a knife.

"It could be one if you wanted it to be, I keep telling you so." He responds, cutting his steak into pieces. He'd brought Jisung to his favourite restaurant, one where he's never brought anyone before. The most expensive their was in the city. But of course, Jisung would never know how special he is to Minho.

"Oh please, as if i'd want to go on a date with you." He scoffs, takes a huge bite of his burger. Jesus, this guy ate like a hog.

"Why, would you rather it be Joshua with you instead?" He chuckles as he eats the steak, making sure to have Jisung being pulled as he uses his left hand.

"You're not even trying to hide how jealous you are of me for being the one he gave his number to." He laughs, wiping his mouth with a tissue before going back in for another bite.

"Oh, darling.." He cuts another piece of the steak, chews on it. "You've got it all wrong."

"What?" He chuckles "So you're jealous of him?" A joke meant to be sarcastic, but it sounds more curious than mocking.

Silence.

"For the record, I got Joshua's contact way back in high school."

✩

They arrive at Jisung's in dead silence, silence that's only broken by Minho's phone buzzing loud.

He fetches it from his pockets, puts it to his ears and listens intently.

"Ok, dad."

The call ends.

"It's my dad. He's called me over for a family dinner." He tells Jisung who blinks as he listens.

"Oh.. when is it?" He asks, just for formalities.

"Tonight.. at six." He answers, checks his watch with a sigh.

"Oh.. so that means.." Jisung looks down at their handcuffs.

"Yeah.. I'm sorry. I know you wanted to stay in and rest but.."

"It's fine.. it's just for today." He exhales, loud.

"And tomorrow.." Minho corrects guiltily.

Jisung sighs.

"Fine, let's just go get ready, then."

It's fifteen minutes to six when they're finally done getting ready, complete with lots of bickering and fighting over who wears what, driving to Minho's huge house for his formal suit and finally arriving at Minho's father's even bigger house.

Jisung gulps.

He's always known Minho and Hyunjin were much richer than him, but he didn't know they were this rich.

Minho guides him around with a hand to his waist, an action that confuses Jisung nearly as much as it draws him in.

"My dad may be rich but he won't kill you." He assures, thumb rubbing circles on Jisung's body. They're both dressed in suits, as Minho told him they should. It may be just a family dinner, and his dad may be a nice guy but he doesn't play around about attire.

"You talk to me like I'm a nervous hamster experiencing what it's like to be human for the first time. Of course i'm aware he won't murder me and feed my body to the crows."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, but by the way you're shaking, i think i have a right to say you're nervous, no?" He teases, pulls him against his tall body and caging him like he'll run away, not like he could, thanks to the handcuffs.

Jisung stays silent, but the way his body heats against Minho's is enough of an indication that he's right.

He didn't know what he expected to see when he walked into the house of one of the richest in California, but he assumes he should've seen this coming. It wasn't a family dinner, well if it was, then Minho had one hell of a fucking family.

He assumes he should've been prepared to see so many new and unfamiliar faces when he'd seen all the lines of rich cars parked right outside the mansion, but of course, do right thoughts ever come at the right time?

He hadn't ever expected to be put in a position where Minho would be the only safe option, but here he was, cuffed to the man he lied to himself about hating and instead dreamt of being fucked into oblivion by him.. and his family.

His breath hitches.

"If i wasn't nervous then, i sure as hell am now." He mumbles as Minho leads him through the hoards of people, greeting and excusing himself. Jisung's mostly overlooked or ignored and all for good reason.

"Well then, someone's gotta keep the local crows well fed." He grins, lets Jisung take his hand as he takes them to his father.

Jisung squeezes his palm involuntarily, keeps his gaze away from the veins peeking out for the sake of not sporting a boner in public. He can't even go kill it off in a cold shower for a long while so its best if he ignores Minho's body as a whole.

He greets Minho's dad with a smile, who shoots a paranoid look to their cuffs.

"Hey, Minho.. i'd like a word with you, alone." He glances at Jisung again.

Jisung gulps nervously again, mumbling a rough apology as they walk into a little secluded corner at the back of the crystalline mansion.

"Don't tell me you both got arrested and ran away.." he sighs, shakes his head.

Jisung coughs as a way to hide his laughter.

"Well, not exactly?" Minho grins at the way Jisung struggles to keep it together. "It was a dare from Hyunjin."

"Oh, thank heavens. And you are..?" He looks at Jisung, finally taking a relieved swig of his drink. Its when Jisung realizes how tall he is. Guaranteed six foot six at least.

This whole fucking family was a family of giants.

"I'm.." He forgets what he was supposed to say. He wasn't exactly Minho's friend.. or classmate. What was he to Minho?

"He's.. my boyfriend!" Minho exclaims, and Jisung chokes on air, goes to speak but is elbowed in the ribs by Minho.

"Oh, then i assume this dare thing isn't much of a hassle for you, and you have the key, right?"

Jisung recovers from his coughing fit and flushes horribly.

"Ah, no.. see Hyunjin.. lost the key and we're going to get a spare only on Monday." Minho scratches the back of his neck. He's horrible at lying.

Jisung narrows his eyes at his suddenly shy nature, then feels his heart stop when Minho's father says the next words.

"Oh, i know a wonderful locksmith, he can rid you of this nuisance easily"

Jisung's insides turn and the realization is so, so sudden. He doesn't want these cuffs to be removed.

It's the only reason he's had to spend the whole of Saturday with Minho, only reason to be around him, only reason to be a part of his movie-like life for once. He doesn't want to be separated from him.

"No!" He says, a little too loud and argumentative than intended. "No.. it's a dare and i'm sure.. my lovely boyfriend.. would love to finish it fair and complete, is that right.. Minho?"

He grabs onto his arm for emphasis and is surprised by the amount of shock in Minho's eyes and the red on his cheeks. "Ah.. yeah, yeah.. I'd love to, boyfriend.."

Jisung cringes.

Minho's dad looks like he's seen a ghost. Jesus, this probably looked like a comedy show to him. "Well.. okay then.. I'll leave you to it."

"What was that?!" Jisung whisper-yells, landing a punch against Minho's arm, who retreats and hisses in pain.

"I should be asking you the same question!" He yells back, gesturing between them. "Boyfriend?"

"You started it!"

"Yeah! And you had the chance to stop it, why didn't you end your fucking misery when you could?"

Jisung is left speechless.

"Jisung, I know very clearly of the opinion you have of me, and out of all things, you shouldn't be yelling at me for letting it slip."

"You had a choice too, why didn't you fucking say no, then?"

Minho's hands run all over his face and he groans, before stepping closer. "Because i fucking like you!"

Jisung's heart fails. Drops to his legs.

"I have these stupid feelings for you, and they won't budge. That's why i fucking slipped up and said you were my boyfriend. That's why i agreed to being cuffed with you, it never was about the fucking twenty dollars. Look around yourself, you don't really think i wanted the money, did you? And Hyunjin never lost any fucking key, i had it. I wasn't going to torture you against your wishes and doom you into spending your lovely weekend with me instead of fucking Joshua or something. I wanted you to see that I'm more than a hot face and a huge ego, that i don't just want to fuck you. i want you, and i want to love you, want you to love me."

There's tears in his eyes at this point, and it looks like he's begging Jisung to accept him.

"I saw what you say to your friends about us, about this.. and it's not fun, contrary to popular beliefs, i actually have feelings. I'm also a real person." He gasps, fully in tears at that point.

Yet, Jisung's fully stuck on one thing. A tape recorder being run back to it's starting point repeatedly.

I had it

Minho had the key. Minho had them cuffed together. Minho wanted him enough to do all this, to show him how much more he was.

Minho wants him.

The thought is enough to make him faint from dizziness.

He feels the cuffs go loose, and a small key is placed into his hands, fist is forced close around it. "I'm sorry i forced you into this. I won't bother you again."

And then, he's gone.

Gone as if he wasn't chained to him less than a minute ago.

Jisung just feels like crying.

Wasn't this what he wanted? Then why is he so repulsed by the thought of a life where he doesn't wake up to Minho's face as he did today? Why is he so repulsed by the thought of never talking to Minho ever again?

And that's when he realizes the mistake he's just made.

He looks at the cuffs in his hands, which only remind him of Minho and how bad he needs to see him, to kiss him stupid as he should've back at prom in high school, to tell him how much he annoys him yet how much he loves him for it.

The only place Minho could've gone is his house, because Jisung just saw his car drive off through the window. He excuses himself from the crowd, only care in the world is how the fuck he's going to get to Minho's.

As if on cue, rain pounds down against his suit, wetting his hair and his body. His feet thump against the watery pavement as he runs faster than he ever has in his whole life, the cramps from that morning's class not helping in the slightest.

It's a blessing that Minho lives a reasonable distance from his dad's, but it's a curse, the clogged water that ruins his socks. The cuffs clink together in his hands, road only illuminated by the streetlights and of course, the headlights of urgent cars.

When he finally reaches Minho's house, jet black sedan parked before it, the wind leaves his lungs.

He takes the courage to step up the stairs, grace his thumb against the doorbell before finally, finally ringing it.

There's silence. The city falls quiet. The rain ceases, slows down to a patter. The cars disperse, urgency turning anxiety.

And then, the door opens.

Minho stands there, the same Minho he'd spent the day with, the same Minho he'd finally realized his feelings for, the same Minho who locked them together all because he liked him. The same Minho who confessed he loves him just a few long, long minutes ago. He hasn't even changed yet. The same Minho who made him sprint all the way here, have him gasping for air as he stands, drenched from top to bottom with his hands on his knees as he pants.

"You asshole!"  He groans, struggling to breath. Minho stands there, arms crossed and mocking look on his face.

"What? Just gonna stand here and curse me out instead of apologizing?" He mocks again, refuses to smile and tell him to come in. Jisung finally finds the strength to stand upright.

"I didn't mean what you saw me texting."

"Sounds to me like you meant every word."

"If i did, would i have chased you down in this horrible rain?" He asks, voice begging for acceptance.

Minho doesn't say anything.

Jisung steps up to the door, stands inches away from Minho. "If i did, would i stand here, soaked and dripping, begging for you to take me in, kiss me stupid like i've always wanted you to?"

"Say it."

Jisung whines. "Don't make me."

"Say it or i'm kicking you out and you're walking home in the cold."

"You wouldn't do that." He challenges, and Minho goes to shut the door. Jisung stops him with his foot and a few protests.

"okay! okay, don't kick me out." He steps in, closes the door behind him and shuts away the chaos of a buzzing city.

Minho waits.

"I like you too."

Soft lips meet wet ones as Minho kisses him, pins him against the door with his body pressed against his, hand clasping his waist.

The force startles Jisung, he forgets what it was like to not have Minho kissing him, tugging his lip with his teeth and rendering his brain thoughtless. He lets out a whimper when Minho forces his mouth open with his tongue, makes his knees go weak when he leaves his mouth and kisses along his pretty, honey skinned neck.

"So pretty, is this what you wanted?" He rakes his hand through his wet, soaked brown strands, runs his nose up his neck, delighting in his chocolate scented perfume.

Jisung lets out a moan of agreement, "Yes, Minho"

"Say it again" He demands, runs his thumb over his sleek, black tie, teasing hands running against a desperate boy.

"I like you." He whines, pushes Minho off and onto his brown leather couch, one which Jisung had seen earlier that day and thought of how pretty he'd look, being kissed here.

"Good boy." Minho groans, pulls him in by the tie and kisses him stupid all over again, the way he should have back at prom. "Tell me, why did you make me wait so long?"

Jisung whines. All he wants is Minho's hands on him, yet Minho waits, teases. But, he guesses he deserves that, because he's made Minho wait so much.

He finds, it's not really curiosity that kills. She only fuels desire that already exists.

It's karma that will have you cuffed and tortured stupid.

"I'm sorry.." He moans when his tie is tugged off, the force is enough to choke him to the point he sees stars.

"Not good enough, i'm afraid." Minho's hand, strong and veiny like he always knew it was, finds its way to its spot around Jisung's neck, squeezes so soft and yet so strong, Jisung's eyes roll back as he moans.

"I'm sorry!" He coughs out, and the stars subside, he sees Minho's face on top of him, feels his buttons being undone. He's propped up against the arm of the couch, kissed breathless with hands all over him.

His coat is tossed aside, and he's completely forgotten about the cuffs, until he hears them clink against each other somewhere. Minho kisses him as he takes him into his arms, carries him up the stairs with strength so expert, strength that Jisung knew he held after seeing him dance, simultaneously the best and worst thing that happened to his sex drive.

He's laid down against white, silky sheets of Minho's bedroom, same bedroom Minho sleeps in and the same bedroom he wants to be fucked stupid inside. He's ready to beg, because he knows Minho will make him, until he notices Minho's lips aren't on him anymore, and he's fiddling with something in his hands.

Jisung's arms are taken into one strong, veiny hand, and pinned above his head. it's all complete brute strength, how the familiar feeling of metal against skin returns to him, this time on both hands and he hears the click of a lock. He's cuffed again.

"Fuck you." He groans out when Minho tells him to keep his hands up and together. And he has to obey, of course, or he won't get what he wants. That's one thing that Minho's made clear.

Minho dives down, and pure teeth sink into Jisung's chest. Jisung moans, back arching up so sudden and pretty, the shock only adds to the burning pit in his abdomen. Burning pit of need.

"Slut." Minho says, licks where he'd bitten, Jisung's body so red and swollen, just like he'd imagined it would be when he first took it apart. "You didn't really think i'd fuck you so easily after you rejected me countless times?"

Jisung doesn't know what to say, but he feels as if not answering will only result in an outcome that's so much worse. He shakes his head, moans when Minho doesn't acknowledge him and his needs in the slightest, only goes on and marks his beauty of a body.

His hands are still upright, he won't disobey, but fuck, it hurts. His dick throbs where it's caged against his pants, and surely, surely Minho feels it. Which only confirms that he realizes how bad Jisung needs him, and goes on to neglect him further. Minho's hands sculpt his body, run all over it and admire it as he'd promised himself he once would when he finally got Jisung to obey.

"You knew how bad i wanted you, didn't you?"

Jisung shakes his head, beads of sweat travel down his face as he finds the words of protest. "No—no, I didn't.." He tries to convince him, but his attempt is only met with Minho dragging down his pants, taking his clothed cock in his hand and kisses around his neck. He's insane, that's what he truly is.

"All worked up for me, and still having the nerve to lie. You're really something, aren't you?" His hands palm his dick, and Jisung feels his eyes water, the beginnings of true pleasure blooming inside his body.

"I'm not lying." He whines, throws his head back when his boxers are tossed aside and a hand finally acknowledges his throbbing dick.

"Looks to me like you are, and you know very well what i want."

And it's the nerve, the pure nerve of Jisung, which makes him squeeze open his eyes and look Minho directly in the eye as he says, "I don't."

He does.

Minho wants him to beg.

It's a clear indication of make me.

Oh, and doesn't Minho make him do exactly as he pleases.

He disappears between his legs, strong hands pinning his thighs against the bed and Jisung knows what's coming before he feels it, a pain so stark and strong it has him fully sobbing and begging, teeth on skin, tongue against a body so breakable.

"Such a fucking brat, this is what you wanted, after all?" He slaps his thigh, enough to have him jolting with pleasure.

"Yes—"

His moan dies in his throat, interrupted by a keen so high when Minho's tongue licks at his neglected cock. It all has his brain turning into mush, static filling his ears as his dick is stimulated further when Minho takes it all in his mouth with such ease it leaves him whimpering with need.

"Please—!" He begs, the way he knows Minho will love. And he does, because he's sucking him in so well, driving him insane.

"I don't know about you, but you've clearly made me get on my knees for you."

If he was curiosity, Minho was karma, his punishment, his sin.

He squeezes the base of his dick before he pulls off, making Jisung whine. He's slapped once more on his thigh, and all he can do is lay there and take it, wait for Minho.

Minho hovers over him again, runs his hands all over his naked body before picking him up and sitting him down on his lap so easily. His cuffed hands are now at his back, and Minho leans in, centimetres away from his lips when he says, "Do you want to be out of those?"

Jisung whimpers.

The firmness of his thighs is so hot and addictive against Jisung. He's completely dressed, from tie to pants, but that doesn't stop Jisung from eyeing the outline of his clothed cock. He's so close, and his smirk is so wide, so hot, it's intimidating. He shakes his head, whimpers again.

Minho hums, "But you were so eager to be rid of me, no?"

Jisung shakes his head  again quietly, hides his face in Minho's neck. He's barely keeping himself sitting upright without the support of his hands.

The key slides into the lock and his cuffs come undone once again. He immediately grabs onto his shoulders, hips grinding forward uncontrollably.

Minho tsks, and the sound leaves him twitching in need. Hands grip at his hips, keeping him from moving.

Jisung lets his head be tilted up as he's kissed while he undoes Minho's shirt, grabs at his tie for leverage to pull him into him. Minho's shirt finally comes undone, and he tosses it to the side, along with his coat, and his tie. Hot, scorching need drenches Jisung.

He's so built and broad, Jisung feels weak in front of him, just sitting all pretty in front of him, on his lap. He undoes the zipper of his pants, discards his boxers to the side as he's finally allowed to see all of Minho, and fuck, he's big.

Minho fetches a completely new bottle of lube from his bedroom cabinet. He had this all planned. From the handcuffs to the argument, everything.

If this was what curiosity brought him, Jisung would allow the karma to get him each time, break him however it pleased.

He moans when Minho slicks his fingers up with the lube and a dripping wet finger finally breaches him. Minho's arm is locked around him, and he can't believe that all this was just behind him, in the shower, and when they were changing, he should've just looked.

His body trembles when Minho's finger thrusts into him, so careless and casual as he kisses along his neck, kisses him into the brinks of insanity. He only barely thrusts near his prostate, noticing how Jisung's legs go weak as soon as he does, and makes sure to tease him by grazing it occasionally.

Jisung's fingers curl around Minho's sturdy shoulders as he fucks his fingers into him, one finger turning into two and two into three. The sloppy slide of his fingers against his stretched hole has Jisung moaning, head against Minho's chest.

"So pretty like this, i can't believe all this was so close to me." He exclaims, fingers rubbing against Jisung's prostate. Jisung mewls at the feeling, dick twitching relentlessly. He moans against Minho.

"What do you want?" He whispers, directly into his ear, as his fingers thrust harder. Jisung jolts, and pre cum slides down his dick.

"Fuck me, please." He can't even bring himself to be embarrassed or shy, the stimulation is too much, and he needs Minho inside him.

Minho's fingers leave his body, and he's thrown around on to his stomach, cheek directly pressed into the pillow as oxygen leaves him. His hands are pinned together at his back and he feels as Minho lines himself up with him.

"How pretty, this is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" He groans as he pushes all the way in. Jisung's body trembles, a long drawn out moan leaves his lips.

"Mm— yes!" He tries his best to say, but his brain goes numb at the pure pressure of Minho inside him. His fantasies come to life when Minho starts kissing down his back while his cock ravages him into the sleek white sheets.

"What a beautiful little slut." He groans, nipping at the skin below his ear. Jisung moans, amazed at how well he's being fucked. He's never going to forget this.

His body jolts and trembles with each thrust, and Minho praises him all the more with each of them.

"Would you have preferred if it was Joshua fucking you instead of me?" He groans into his ear, and Jisung moans, thinking of how hot he sounded like this, all jealous and possessive.

"No.. no one can fuck me as well as you." He whimpers out through this clouded haze of a brain. Minho slaps him on the ass, and he moans, open mouthed against the pillow.

"I think you'd easily spread your legs for him, wouldn't you, slut?" He scoffs. "You've even got his number memorized."

Jisung rolls his eyes, and through a muffled moan, he dares to agree. "And if i did?"

He feels the emptiness before he realizes he's being turned back onto his back. Minho spanks his thigh, "What was that?"

Jisung throws his head back against the pillow as the spanks keep coming, forgets what it felt like to not have his thighs burning with pain so delicious he'd forget how to breathe.

"Fucking whore." Minho groans into his ears, only making him whine further.

"I bet he'd fuck me better." He moans at the next hit, pushes Minho off of him and against the headboard. He sits on his lap and lines his hole with Minho's cock, moaning when it hits his prostate directly.

"Better than this?" Minho sits back, allows him to do all the work with his arms crossed across his chest.

Jisung hops sweetly on his dick, a mewl so delicious it has Minho's dick twitching inside him. "No.. ah, not better than this."

His prostate is hit with each little bounce on Minho's dick, and it's so much more pleasuring than fucking himself stupid with three fingers, pretending it's Minho's once every few days. He moans as he feels himself clench, before he comes with a loud moan of Minho's name, strings of cum dirtying his lap.

"I've got you." Minho assures him. His fingers thread through his hair, now more dewy than wet. He keeps thrusting into him and Jisung moans from the overstimulation, body being abused with each strong thrust. He hiccups uselessly on his lap, still trying his best to grind down against Minho's dick.

He strokes Jisung repeatedly, who moans when Minho fills him up, bringing him to another orgasm as well. They lie there, and Minho can only kiss across his skin, tell him how good he is for him.

Jisung's never been happier to be cuffed with someone.

★

Jisung thought the aftercare had been good, it had been marvellous, actually, but this? Minho had seen his texts with Hyunjin where he was complaining about not having his me-time and instead being cuffed with him. He had been complaining about not getting his movie night as he'd wanted, but here he was right now, on Minho's luxury sofa, in his hoodie and pants, cleaned from head to toe with a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows decorating it.

Minho has him in his arms as they watch movies together. He really had been true to his word. Whatever you want to do, we'll fit it into my routine.

He kissed him sweet and silly after they'd finished and Jisung had rested, teased him stupid and then made him hot chocolate, put him on the couch and played whatever movie he asked for.

Jisung didn't even realize he'd zoned out until Minho tickles his neck which is adorned with hickies. "Stop!" He smacks his hand away, when Minho pulls him closer.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." He answers easily.

"Hmm." Minho responds, brings his hand up to his lips and tracing kisses along his skin.

"Be my boyfriend." He says suddenly, and noticing how Jisung's body freezes up unexpectedly, and then he's being kissed all over again.

"Take me on a date and I might consider." He mumbles against his lips.

He grins, hands wrapping around Minho's neck.

He wants to live in this moment forever, in Minho's arms as he kisses him stupid, all over his face.

Because of course, Karma feeds curiosity well. So well.