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“You reek,” Seungmin huffed. “You're stinking up the entire room.”
In the dim room, with the only light pouring from the television, Minho watched as red blossomed along Jisung's cheeks. He opened his mouth, a noise akin to a whine slipped, and he snapped his mouth closed. He repeated the action once, twice. And still, no words came. He was embarrassed—ashamed.
“It's okay,” Yongbok said before Minho could. “It always happens when my heat is right around the corner.”
Jisung's heat.
or practice triggers jisung's heat
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Kitty hybrid jisung