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“God, why are you always like this!” Kibum groaned, skittering around their small shared room to clean up the mess of clothes and clutter on the ground.
“Like what?” Minho provoked, feigning ignorance to get a reaction out of Kibum. He found it funny when Kibum got all strung-up like this, and he knew that he would piss him off anyway—why not have fun with it?
“Like a damn slob! You're twenty two years old, for God’s sake. You can't even clean up after yourself, every time I try to come in here, it's like a tornado blew through the room. Do I need to teach you how to be a capable adult, or would you just be unable to listen to me anyways?” Kibum tiraded, finally letting go of his composure.
If he was being completely honest, in some perverse way Minho enjoyed it when Kibum berated him. Kibum was really hot when he was angry, and his voice boomed through Minho's body and veins (and slightly downwards). Although he chose to disregard the implications of him having thoughts like this about his best friend, being a fairly heterosexual guy too, he was half-convinced that he'd bend a bit if Kibum was also like this in bed.
“You're such a man, you know? This is why even straight women don't like straight guys. All of your brains stopped developing at like fourteen. What are you going to do when you move out and go off on your own? I’m not going to play Mommy for you forever,” Kibum continued on his rant, pausing with a huff as he tossed the lump of clothing in his arm into the hamper.
Finally finished with the clothes, Kibum turned around to face Minho, who had stayed planted in place the entire time. He looked down, then straight into Minho’s eyes with a heavy glare and crossed arms.
“Oh my God, are you getting off on this?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowed. Now that he thought about it, there was a bit of a problem going on between his legs and these sweatpants didn't exactly hide much. He didn't even know what to say—his eyes were only able to widen in shock.
Kibum took two dangerous steps closer to Minho, a glint in his eyes that Minho recognized as him having an idea. The idea in question could either turn out really well or absolutely horribly for him, and he had not a semblance of a clue which it would be.
Before he could react, Kibum grabbed onto the bottom of Minho’s jaw with a firm hand and forced him to look him straight in the eyes. His pupils were dark and blown out, something hidden behind them—obviously he wasn't the only one enjoying this.
“You pervert. You know, I’d fuck you right here if this room wasn't so disgusting. Clean the rest up,” Kibum said through gritted teeth, his tone doing… things to Minho. Before Minho could even process what happened, Kibum was out the door fast as lightning.
Well, shit.