Work Text:
The second the words ‘pepero game’ came over the speakers, Jisung was seeking out a particular set of familiar eyes. Minho, as if drawn by the invisible string that connected them, immediately turned his head to meet his gaze. Vaguely, Jisung recognised the host explaining the rules of the game, saw Hyunjin and Changbin glancing at each other with a cringe to their expressions, but, as was usually the case, his attention was completely dominated by Minho.
Some days (a lot of days, actually), he couldn’t help but feel clingy with Minho, like being apart for even a minute too long would kill him. On those days, they really lived up to their “chopsticks” moniker.
Silently, Jisung tilted his head to the side, wordlessly asking him, “Shall we team up?” Minho’s responding coy eyebrow raise was answer enough and made his insides warm pleasantly. It made him want to drink it in in the privacy of their home, savour it away from prying eyes. But they were at a variety show now, and Jisung was already slowly getting pushed to the right side of the stage by one of the hosts with a giant rice cracker clutched in his hand.
All intelligent thought flew out of his brain the second Minho was in front of him, and all that remained was a dull buzzing underneath his skin. It crept up dangerously close to the surface, so, after biting down on the cracker, Jisung buried his hands in his pockets, lest he use them to do something stupid, like pull Minho in closer.
“Think you can resist me, jagi-ya?” Minho joked, eyeing the action.
A smile almost made its way onto Jisung’s face when they made eye contact again at the flustered little chuckle Minho let out that only really ever made an appearance in public. Away from cameras and fans, Jisung was usually the one at the mercy of his flirting and longing stares. It was exhilarating when the roles reversed.
Gently placing his hands on Jisung’s shoulders, Minho, at the host’s mark, leant it, starting to nibble on the cracker. His front teeth chomped down mechanically, cutely peeking out from his stuffed cheeks as he chewed. Jisung was mesmerised. He never shied away from their closeness, but now it was like some force was pulling them together, and he wanted to do nothing more than to wrap his arms around Minho’s waist, press them flush together and never let go.
On the next bite, Minho’s eyes met his and he pulled away with a whispered, “Don’t look at me like that.”
Jisung wanted to ask what he looked like, but his mouth was occupied, and he could reliably answer that question himself. He didn’t want to, but his eyes slipped shut just as Minho’s hand came to rest over them. All of his senses were overwhelmed by his presence – his touch, his smell. Even the screaming of their fans faded into the background as the space between their faces shrank. Warm puffs of breath were hitting Jisung’s lips in a way that was so familiar, his body moved on its own, leaning forward to chase the feeling. His hands clenched into fists from the confines of his pockets.
They were barely a few inches apart now, and Minho gripped his shoulders more securely, tilting his head to the side to bite what was left of the cracker. His lips grazed Jisung’s cheek accidentally, and Jisung just had to chuckle at that. It was so uncharacteristic for them to be trying to avoid kissing each other, that it was literally laughable.
Soon enough, Minho was leaning away with finality, and Jisung blinked his eyes open, spitting out the rice cracker into his hand. They looked at each other with some level of pride before bringing it over to the host, who eyed the cracker presented to him before looking at them with a sly smirk.
“Oh, the game is over, Changbin and Hyunjin finished ages ago.”
“Oh,” Jisung muttered, glancing over to Minho, whose ears were flushing red in embarrassment. Now that he really thought about it, it didn’t feel like Minho was trying to rush the game in the slightest. On the contrary, every movement was slow and deliberate, like he was savouring the moment. Maybe he was feeling the same neediness as Jisung that day. Suddenly, Jisung couldn’t wait to go home.
The rest of the filming was a blast. Jisung had fun running around with his friends, doing silly little challenges, but he never stopped feeling Minho’s burning gaze on him. Jisung pressed them together whenever he got the chance, leeching any bit of contact he could until the workday ended. Soon enough, they were saying their goodbye’s, thanking the fans and the hosts, and leaving the stage with an exhausted slump.
Jisung impatiently ran through changing out of his stage clothes and gathering his bag before he was catching Minho by the elbow as the other was coming out of the bathroom. They didn’t have to exchange any words for Minho to know what Jisung’s big, pleading eyes were asking for. Taking a quick glance down at his lips, Minho tickled his chin fondly and led them towards the exit.
“Soon, baby. Let’s get home.”
The car ride felt far too long with how jittery Jisung was. It felt like his chest was going to implode with every gentle swipe of Minho’s thumb over his knuckles as they held hands. Minho, on the other hand, looked wholly unaffected, casually scrolling on his phone and ignoring Jisung’s lacking self-restraint. Jisung practically ran into their apartment door the second the elevator doors opened, hastily jabbing in the pin code and crowding in.
As nonchalant as ever, Minho threw his bag on the floor and toed off his shoes before turning to him, and with a soft smile, said, “You worked hard today, Jisungie,” patting his butt a couple times and moving to go to his room.
Jisung couldn’t have that, though. He caught Minho’s hoodie sleeve, yanking him back towards the entryway.
“Hyung,” he complained, wrapping his arms around his neck and moving on his tippy toes to bring their faces closer.
“What?” Minho asked innocently, but Jisung could see the spark of mischief dancing around in his eyes.
“You know what. You’ve been teasing me all day.”
“I wasn’t teasing.”
“Yes, you were! You were taking your sweet time with the pepero game, even though it was a timed race. And then you dared to act all cute and flustered when the host called you out on it. Hyung, I’m dying here,” Jisung whined dramatically, hoping his desperation would get him somewhere.
Minho hummed, gaze turning dangerous.
“And what does my jagi want me to do about that?” his hands finally came to rest on Jisung’s waist, squeezing it once. “How should Hyung make it up to you?”
“Hyung should do what he’s been trying to do all day,” Jisung muttered, slowly inching forward.
Minho’s eyes conveyed iliads of emotion as he watched Jisung’s expression carefully. His fingers traced Jisung’s jaw, cupping it securely in his palms.
“Hm, I think I can do that,” he said before finally bringing their lips together.
Jisung sighed into the kiss, feeling himself go boneless in Minho’s grip. The tension from all the anticipation seeped out of him and was replaced by a low, warm hum – the way he always felt when he was kissing Minho.
Most days, he could take the tantalising torture of working right next to his boyfriend and not being able to kiss him all day. It wasn’t pleasant by any means; Jisung was an affectionate person, and that didn’t stop at his friendships. He liked the skinship him and Minho shared on a day-to-day basis. He liked being able to peck him when the other pretended to be grumpy, just to watch the frown melt off his face. He liked the way Minho got even bolder when they were alone, pinching and grabbing any bit of exposed skin like it was his drug. And he liked being able to make out with Minho on the couch. And in the kitchen. And on the bed. He just liked Minho. A lot. And having to contain that during the day sometimes seemed like an impossible task.
They tilted their heads in unison, deepening the kiss with the new angle. Jisung felt himself be lifted by the back of his thighs and he instinctually wrapped his legs around Minho’s hips the second they were securely off the ground. He was carried over to the couch and lain gently on the cushions. Minho’s hair haloed around him as he lent over Jisung, expression open and radiating warmth.
“I love you,” the words exploded out of Jisung’s chest, curling around the two of them like a cosy blanket.
Minho stared at him deeply, gaze turning even softer as his eyes raked over Jisung’s face. He wasn’t looking for the truth behind his words, Jisung knew that, because Minho knew he meant them. No, he was looking just for the sake of looking, like he was trying to memorise and map out every detail of him.
Gently, Minho’s fingers brushed away the fringe from Jisung’s eyes, moving the peach strands away from his forehead. It was a direct contrast to what he did during the pepero game, because here, just between the two of them, there were no secrets, no feelings that needed to be carefully reeled in in front of an audience. They could just be.
“I love you too, honey,” Minho parroted quietly and placed the softest of kisses on Jisung’s lips.
They stayed tangled like that for some time, exchanging kisses and quiet murmurings of affection before the rumble of Jisung’s stomach interrupted them. Jisung whined at the sound, wrapping his limbs around Minho’s middle like a koala.
“Baby, make me food, please. I’m hungryyy.”
With a flick to his ear, Minho chuckled, “So needy, my big baby.”
“You’re the big baby here. I’m the little baby,” Jisung pouted, squirming away from the offending hand.
Minho’s eyes swirled with fondness and something deeper, hungrier. His eyes crept down Jisung’s body, stopping at his torso. He leaned back slightly, untangling himself from Jisung’s grasp, and boldly hiked up his shirt to his chest. The abs of Jisung’s stomach tensed at being exposed to the chilly air, and he shivered as Minho’s fingers trailed over the skin before stopping to grip his waist. He squeezed it between his hands, admiring just how close his thumbs were to touching.
“You sure are,” he murmured with a distracted tone. “Let’s get you fed, then.” After one last squeeze, Minho carefully lowered the shirt back over his stomach, hands lingering on Jisung’s upper thighs, and stood from the couch.
Jisung let out a shaky breath the second Minho was out of his space and pressed his legs together, closing his eyes to the persistent heat Minho always left behind.
“Always such a tease,” he grumbled at his boyfriend’s resounding laugh, but he couldn’t help the gentle smile painting his face as he laid back into the pillows and enjoyed the relaxing sounds of dinner being made by the person he loved most.