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Summary
“You think they couldn’t tell what a slut you are? How hard you were on stage?” Minho squeezes once, slides his hand up along the thick shape before he lets go. His hands wander back to Jisung’s hips, keeping him pressed along the brick even when he tries to buck forward.
“Hyung,” Jisung breathes, teary, “It’s- I couldn’t help it. It was adrenaline, hyung, not- I’m not a slut.”