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Summary
“Quiet time,” Jisung repeats, lackadaisical, and Minho snorts in reply. The muscle in his leg flexes and Jeongin shifts with it. His mind is slowly pulling back from where it has been stretched to its thinnest and most malleable, the way Minho likes it. He’s more cognizant now of the ache in his knees and the stretch of his lips, wet from his own saliva, and as he suckles on the thick girth of Minho’s cock sitting heavy on his tongue with a renewed interest he finds he doesn’t - or can’t - wonder how long he’s been kneeling between his hyung’s legs.
Series
- Part 28 of bite-sized fics