Archive of Our Own

Before he even had the chance to knock, the door Minho was standing in front of was flung open, and the disheveled head of his best friend popped out, blinking up at Minho with bright, round eyes. Minho smiled softly, looking up and down at Jisung’s sloppy outfit, which was just a light gray tracksuit. It wouldn’t be considered too sloppy for Jisung, minus the fact that he had never changed out of it for the past four days or so. But Minho found that more endearing than gross, since he loved his bare-faced-mussed-up-hair best friend more than anything, even if he clearly wasn’t prepared for Minho to come over, despite begging him ardently over the phone for Minho to help him with a school assignment only hours earlier.

“Hi, Sungie,” Minho greeted excitedly, giving the younger a small wave and a bright smile.

“Thank you so much for coming, hyung,” Jisung said breathlessly instead of a simple “hello”—or even a “hey”, Minho wasn't too picky—before dragging the older into his apartment with a tight and demanding grip on his wrist. It made the tips of Minho’s ears burn with the intensity of it, but that was just because Minho was horribly touch-starved, obviously. Nothing more and nothing less than that.

Minho reached up and smoothed down Jisung’s messy hair as he was led over to the bed in the corner of the younger's cozy studio apartment, his body forcefully shoved down onto the sheets. Minho laid amongst the dozen or so open books and the stacks of loose papers strewn about the sheets, sighing at Jisung's urgency and silence. The bed was sloppily made and the many blankets were piled up around the edges like a fluffy nest, perfectly representing the state he knew Jisung’s brain must be like at the moment.

“Wow, this is the first time I think I’ve ever seen your bed somewhat made, Jisungie!” Minho exclaimed teasingly, giving Jisung a crooked grin. Minho was tempted, horribly, embarrassingly tempted, to kiss away the exaggerated pout Jisung was now sporting, the younger's arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked like an angry gerbil. Or maybe even a cute, chubby-cheeked, pouting hamster. Minho's grin just grew even wider instead of punching Jisung’s mouth with his own like an absolute idiot would’ve done—which Minho is not , of course—before grabbing the papers thrown atop the younger’s bed and organizing them as neatly as he could without knowing their contents.

“Shut the hell up,” the angry hamster grumbled, well, angrily, frustratedly tossing one of his overly fluffy pillows onto the floor and plopping on the bed behind Minho. His body heat spread to the older’s as he positioned himself on the bed, scooching forward until his chest was almost completely lined up to Minho’s back.

Minho chuckled, grabbing Jisung’s computer off of the nightstand and quickly scanning over what the younger had written so far for his final paper. Was it technically cheating if Minho helped? Maybe. But Jisung didn’t quite care, he’d reiterated that plenty of times to the older over the phone this morning when he had pleaded for him to make a visit to Jisung’s apartment.

Minho reread the sentences a few more times in bewilderment, hoping that the ever-knowing and figurative eyes on the back of his head would convey to Jisung his confusion. “Is this open to the right thing?” Minho asked slowly, glancing between the open books on the bed and Jisung’s laptop.

“Yep!” Jiisung replied, peeking over Minho’s shoulder.

Five sentences. Barely a paragraph. Minho sighed, mustering up what he believed was his most disappointed-mother-like voice. “Han Jisung, when is this due?”

“A week-ish,” Jisung answered cheerfully, blissfully ignorant like he was the first day he had joined this course, even though Minho had warned him not to since he knew that the classwork would come back to bite him in the ass. And look what had happened.

He’s only written five sentences and it’s due in seven days?! “You might as well just fail, Jisungie. There’s no hope,” Minho mumbled, looking through the pile of papers in his hands which just so happened to be Jisung’s sloppily hand-written notes. “Do you even have an outline?”

“No…?” Jisung replied meekly, and Minho assumed that his heart pounding frantically in his chest was due to the high amount of nervousness he felt for the younger’s success. Nothing more.

“Oh, Jisungie… Is your brain made out of applesauce?” Minho asked teasingly, flicking the younger’s forehead lightly as a punishment. Applesauce?! What the hell is wrong with you, Lee Minho ?

Jisung’s face magically transformed into that of an angry hamster’s again, grabbing his computer out of Minho’s hands and typing something quickly onto the document before handing it back to the older. Now, on the mostly blank page were three highly detailed headings screaming out at Minho in bold, 2o-point font: Intro , Body , and lastly, Conclusion .

“Wow, you’re really an-”

Jisung placed his finger on Minho’s lips, shushing him forcefully. “A genius, I know, hyungie.”

Minho shook his head. “Sure, Jisungie, sure…” he agreed, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, uh, hyung, what am I supposed to do?”

“Am I taking the class with you?” Minho asked, his teasing smile falling when he heard Jisung squeak. “Uhm- Jisungie, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry, hyung. You’re right, I might as well just fail.”

Minho turned around to face Jisung as best as he could, his eyes wide and mouth agape. “No, Jisungie, what? You most definitely should not do that.”

Jisung giggled, pushing Minho forward almost uncomfortably. “Awe~ Alright hyung, I’ll finish this just for you ,” he teased, speaking right into Minho’s ear.

Minho grumbled and pushed Jisung off of his back, handing him the computer and stack of papers before half-rolling-half-crawling away onto a surprisingly clear part of the bed. Jisung giggled, the contagious noises soon making Minho break out into his own fit of laughter.

Jisung then hunkered down and started to get to work, copying down his notes onto the document because he did actually have an outline. That little fucking liar , Minho thought to himself bitterly, although it was soon overcome with fondness as he watched Jisung work, his eyes focused and his tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he worked to sort the pages into the correct order.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

Minho had quickly fallen asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the constant tip-tapping of Jisung's fingers on the keyboard. His bed was comfy, and Minho found himself unable to rouse from being surrounded entirely by Jisung's smell. Maybe he'd have to steal his whole closet.

He opened his blurry, sleep crusted eyes, zeroing-in on what he could make out of Jisung's face.

“Hi, hyungie,” the younger said, not bothering to look away from his screen. “Your glasses are on the pillow next to you.”

“Thanks,” Minho replied, cringing to himself from his sleep-ridden voice, deep like it was in the morning. How hard was he sleeping?

Jisung finally turned to look at him, smiling softly. He was wearing his glasses now, too. “You look like that one disgruntled cat meme, hyung,” he exclaimed with a giggle, blowing a kiss towards Minho when he frowned in disapproval.

“No,” Minho argued. He wasn’t a cat.

“Yeah.”

Minho scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his hair before putting on his glasses, finally able to see. He gazed at Jisung's computer screen before his eyes were drawn to Jisung's hands. The younger's fingers were moving rapidly against the keys, and Minho's gaze tracked them like a cat’s eyes would to a laser.

“W-what's the time?” Minho stuttered, his mouth growing dry as he watched as Jisung's hands froze, two of his fingers moving down to the mousepad to scroll over to the corner of the screen, the bottom display bar popping up and showing them both the time. Jisung's hand moved smoothly, his fingers curling to control the mouse, and Minho felt like a pervert as his stomach grew warmer, a bubbling pool of arousal slowly starting to stir down south. What the hell is wrong with you, it's just Jisung’s hands! But he couldn’t force himself to look away.

“9:33 pm, hyungie,” Jisung answered, and Minho jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice. Pervert, pervert, pervert, per-

“Oh, it's late,” he said once he regained his ability to speak, swallowing harshly to bring some saliva back to the desert that his mouth had become.

“Stay the night?” Jisung asked while Minho mumbled, “Have you had dinner?”

Minho flushed bright red, his sleep-addled brain making him much more prone to flustering, not that anything would save him when he was around Jisung. He closed his eyes tightly, covering his face with his hands out of embarrassment. “S-sorry, what did you say?”

“Stay the night with me?”

“Sure,” Minho answered softly, staring up at Jisung's face. He looked so cute , he wanted to devour- Holy fuck, he interrupted his train of thoughts frantically. Calm down before you actually say something this fucking deranged out loud.

“Do you want to get takeout?” Jisung asked gently, reaching up to pat Minho’s head, the younger’s laughter as soft as a pillow as Minho tried to shake away Jisung’s hand.

Once he was away from the assault, Minho hummed and nodded in agreement. He rolled over onto another part of the bed, grumbling angrily like the disgruntled kitten Jisung had called him earlier when he accidentally rolled onto a book, the hard corner of the cover digging into the flesh of his back. “Jisung, please clean up your bed,” Minho whined, sitting up and pulling the book up, handing it to Jisung insistently.

“Just lay where it's clean,” Jisung replied coolly, taking the book out of Minho’s and setting it down somewhere else on the bed. Minho grumbled again, laying his head on Jisung’s shoulder, watching him type.

Jisung hit the enter key a few times, writing a quick note in the comments to tell him to get back to that area later, before he was typing another large paragraph. A seemingly incessant overflow of ideas had suddenly washed over Jisung while Minho was asleep, running away his writer’s block and having him write large sentence after sentence. Minho was left in awe, watching Jisung type as quickly as if he was in a race for a thousand bucks. He whined under his breath, biting back another quiet sound as Jisung’s hands hovered over the keyboard.

Wow, his hands are so unfairly pretty. Minho let himself stare, tracing every bump and line on Jisung’s hands as the younger typed and typed some more, filling up the page quickly, right before Minho’s eyes.

Minho whimpered as quietly as he could, shifting on the bed next to Jisung. The younger stopped typing, leaning his head against Minho’s.

“Hungry?”

Minho nodded. “Yeah…”

“Okay.” Jisung shut down his laptop and set it down on the nightstand, kissing the top of Minho’s head before he stood up, heading to the kitchen-slash-living-room area to grab his phone.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

The next evening, Minho was tucked into his own tiny kitchen, cooking himself a small dinner with the leftovers Jisung had made him take home.

“Take them, hyung, you gotta have food at home, too,” Jisung had insisted, shoving one of the food boxes into Minho's arms. The older had just nodded dumbly, watching Jisung's fingers grasp his own to make sure he had fully grabbed the takeout container. The touch was nothing strange or out of the ordinary for them, but for some reason it made Minho feel heated, fingers aching to grab more, to take Jisung's hands into his own and never let go. Minho nodded again and again, fumbling for the takeout container and spinning around to leave Jisung's apartment.

He had tripped on his way out, getting a loud laugh from the boy behind him.

“Be safe, hyungie,” Jisung called after the older.

“You too, Sungie,” Minho replied, almost dropping his food on the way out because he was an absolute idiot.

Minho felt his face grow warm as he remembered the earlier morning, before realizing he was home alone. He could think about whatever he wanted without any repercussions. Minho was just a man, who was he to deny himself the saccharine pleasures of thinking much too deeply about his best friend until his heart cracked and his cock ached?

He giggled to himself, insanely. He carefully guided his knife back down to the carrots he was slicing, looking more at his hands rather than what he was actually cutting. His and Jisung’s hands were so… Different. And yet so similar, of course. They were just hands, but Jisung’s, although larger than Minho’s, had this feeling of dainty-ness about them, as if they should belong to a princess rather than the younger. Minho’s hands were shorter and veinier, with callouses from working with his hands whether it be from cooking or dancing or writing. Minho stared down at his fingers, watching them grip the knife with the precision that came with so much experience. He wondered if Jisung would teach him to play the guitar or something of the sort, just so that Minho could watch his hands work and have the younger guide and touch his hands with his own. Jisung’s touch was always so delicate and calculated, not that Minho’s weren’t. Jisung and him were more similar than they were different, but that difference was always much more prevalent in their touches more than anything else.

Fuck, he was horny now. Pervert .

He’d lost most of his shame long ago, and along with it, his brain, apparently. He hissed as he accidentally sliced into his finger, blood pearling out of the thin cut.

“ Fuck ,” he mumbled, washing his hands quickly and holding a paper towel against the cut until it stopped bleeding. Once he’s sure that the bleeding has stopped, he returns to making his dinner, forcing any thoughts about Jisung’s hands deep, deep into the recesses of his brain, making himself focus.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

Minho found himself back at Jisung’s apartment after his first class of the day, letting himself in since the younger had left the door unlocked for Minho this time. Jisung was busy working on his bed again, eating a bowl of ramyeon while he typed furiously on his computer. He looked up at Minho and sighed loudly with relief, setting down the bowl of noodles on his nightstand.

“Hi hyung-ah… I need you,” Jisung said, making grabby hands for the older.

“Need you” repeated in Minho's brain like a mantra. Minho would give Jisung anything he asked, anything at all, because he needed him, too. Minho gulped, setting down his backpack on Jisung's kitchen counter before heading over to the bed, sitting down on the foot of it. He smiled softly at the younger despite the horrible thoughts about his best friend that were running through his head. Pervert . Jisung didn't need him that way.

Minho bit back a groan. God, why was he so gross .

Jisung, completely oblivious to Minho's insane reverie, plopped his laptop down in Minho's lap, making sure the screen was facing the older.

“Proofread this for me, please,”  Jisung said, hitting the up arrow until he was at the top of the paper. Minho hummed and nodded, spending the next five minutes reading over Jisung's paper slowly.

“Ah, Sungie, this is really good,” Minho said, handing the younger back his computer.

“No grammar mistakes?”

“Nope!”

Jisung grinned, blowing Minho a kiss. And Minho, being the maniac he was, focused more on Jisung's hand right in front of his rather than the fact that the younger was practically giving him a kiss —through the air, but still, a kiss is a kiss no matter where it was. Back to the problem at hand though, which was Minho's dick. He liked to think with it, and usually that ended up with him on top of some cute twink, but now… He wanted Jisung—no. He needed him.

He pretended to bite off Jisung's fingers, hoping by some insane chance that he'd shove them down Minho's throat. Instead, Jisung just pulled his hand away with a loud sound of feigned disgust and a whiny hyunggg .

Jisung pretended to push Minho off of his bed, the older's arms flying out as he tried to catch himself.

“Jisung-ah!” he cried, holding up his hands in surrender. “I'm sorry, Jisungie.”

Jisung huffed and grinned happily, before he shot forward, looking closely at one of Minho's hands.

“Oh hyung-ah, what happened to your poor finger?” Jisung asked softly, grabbing Minho's hand and looking deeply at the hurt finger he had accidentally sliced the night before.

“It's just a cut, Sungie… There's no need to worry,” Minho dodged, holding his breath as Jisung brought the older's hand closer to his face, studying it closely. Oh, how easy it'd be for Minho to just shove his finger into Jisung's mouth, to push past his plump lips and run the pad of his finger along the ridges of his teeth and press against the warm, plushness of his tongue.

Jisung kissed the tip of Minho's finger. “Let me help you, hyung,” he offered quietly, climbing off of the bed and pulling Minho with him. He led the older into the bathroom, holding onto Minho's finger with one hand as his other worked to dig his first aid kit out from beneath his sink.

He held back a squeak as Jisung carefully spread antibiotic ointment on his cut before gently wrapping a band-aid around it. When he was finished, Jisung kissed the tip of Minho's finger again, and the older let out a soft whimper.

He stared down at Jisung's hands as he cleaned up the first aid kit and stored it back down under the sink, his hand working nimbly and quickly.

“Everything good, hyungie?” Jisung asked once he was done cleaning up.

Minho nodded, his eyes still glued onto Jisung's fingers. He gulped, reaching out and grabbing Jisung's hand, just to touch, and not even realizing what he was doing. All he wanted was to have Jisung close. So he brought him closer.

“Hyung-ah?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” Jisung asked quietly, and Minho just shrugged. He laced his and Jisung's fingers together, his heart pounding as he felt the differences in the size of their fingers.

“Hyungieee, what are you doing?” Jisung asked again, and Minho took a deep breath when Jisung squeezed his hand tightly.

“Your hands are so pretty, Sung-ah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing Jisung's hand back.

“Oh, you think so?” Jisung said cutely, holding his and Minho's entwined hands up, shaking them around like a maraca. Minho nodded, leaning closer to Jisung.

“I think everything about you is very pretty…” he whispered, pushing Jisung against the bathroom counter.

Jisung's face grew red as Minho moved closer, letting go of his hand to trap Jisung's body against the counter. “H-hyung…?” he squeaked, reaching up to cup Minho's face gently. “What are you doing?”

“Uhm… Kisses?” Minho ducked his head down shyly as he spoke, whimpering as Jisung tilted it back up, making Minho look the younger directly in the eye.

Jisung leaned up on his tip-toes and kissed Minho's forehead, making the older's ears burn.

“There you go, hyung-ah.”

“T-thanks, Sungie…”

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

Two days after Minho admitted—very dumbly, in his opinion—that he thought everything about Jisung was pretty, and then asked for kisses , he got a very excited text from the younger. And even though it was sent at two in the morning, Jisung was as excited as a little kid seeing a carnival for the first time. Pure, bright, unbridled joy.

—————————

Sung ✨
hyung!
hyung!
i finished my paper!
sent 2:33am

Me
Good job Sungie!
sent 7:53am

Sung ✨️
we should celebrate
make me dinner hyung

Me
Dinner and a movie then?

Sung ✨️
YEAH

Me
Okay
Is six good?

Sung ✨
👍
see you later hyung~

—————————

Minho smiled to himself. Jisung was so adorable.

He then started to move around his room frantically, picking up any piece of garbage or any item of dirty clothes he could find, even though Jisung wasn’t even going to be in his room, they were probably only going to be in the living room and kitchen. Minho just wanted to be clean and impress Jisung, of course.

He hummed the lyrics of Red Velvet’s Bad Boy to himself softly as he cleaned up around his apartment, the lyrics randomly coming to mind as he prepared for his best friend to visit despite the fact that he won’t be coming over for another ten hours. Whatever. Minho didn’t care. The cleaner his house was, the better, in his opinion.

He also had to figure out what to make for Jisung, right? He didn’t have classes or work that day, so why not take advantage of the time and cook something for his lovely best friend whom he loved the normal platonic amount like he’d said he would. Minho skipped into his kitchen, looking through the fridge to see what he could make for Jisung.

“Hmm,” he hummed, digging through the drawers to see what type of vegetables he had. He could do fried rice. Jisung liked chicken fried rice best, so he’d do that one. He smiled to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement as he made a short mental list of the ingredients he was missing for the meal. He’d probably get Jisung a slice of cheesecake from the store, too, just as a fun, little surprise.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

Finally, after countless hours of waiting in near boredom, as well as a quick trip to the store to grab everything he needed to make dinner, Minho was ready for Jisung to come over. The younger was chronically late to every event, so Minho was a little more than surprised when Jisung knocked on his door half an hour before six. He opened the door and Jisung rushed in, hugging Minho tightly.

“Hi, Sungie,” he whispered, hugging the younger back. “Is everything alright?”

Jisung nodded against Minho’s shoulder. “Yeah…”

Minho held Jisung close and guided him into the living room, helping him sit down on the couch. “Jisung-ah, something is wrong…”

The younger sniffled, fiddling with his fingers in his lap as he stared down at Minho’s shoes. “I was just lonely,” he mumbled. “S’not a big deal… I just don’t like it when you’re not there, you know? I miss you.”

Minho patted Jisung’s head gently. “You’re here now Sungie,” he said, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “And besides, you could've just called me if you wanted me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you…”

“You wouldn’t’ve, baby,” Minho promised, grabbing Jisung’s hands. “I’m always free for you.”

Jisung giggled happily. “Okay, hyungie.”

Minho smiled, squeezing Jisung’s hands before letting go. “Are you hungry?”

Jisung nodded. Minho stood up and went into the kitchen, the younger following behind him excitedly. “What did you make, hyungie?” he asked, peeking over Minho’s shoulder as he checked to make sure the food was still warm.

“Chicken fried rice,” Minho answered, setting the table for him and Jisung. “I hope you like it…”

“I’m sure I will, hyungie.” Jisung leaned forward and kissed Minho’s cheek before sitting down at the table, smiling up at the older with a happy smile. Minho stood frozen, blinking rapidly as he reached up to touch his cheek where Jisung had kissed him. Yeah, a kiss is a kiss no matter where it was, but this was on Minho’s cheek . This was so much more real than a forehead kiss or an air kiss or anything else Jisung had ever done for him.

He shook away his thoughts and set the food down in the center of the table, sitting down right across from Jisung.

“You’re so red, hyungie,” Jisung teased, letting Minho serve him.

“Careful, Sungie, I’m making your food. I could poison it.”

“I just think it’s cute how flustered you get from a little kiss on the cheek,” Jisung stated, grabbing his plate from Minho’s hands and starting to spoon the rice into his mouth. Minho glared at the younger as he got his own food.

“I’m not flustered , Jisung,” Minho denied, slowly eating his meal as he watched Jisung practically inhale his own. His cheeks were stuffed full, and so of course Minho’s brain took that image and ran with it. He wanted to make him gag and cry being so filled to the brim with Minho’s co- No. Nope, nope, nope. You are eating dinner, pervert , Minho reminded himself, forcing his gaze away from Jisung’s mouth and cheeks and meeting Jisung’s bright eyes instead.

“This was so fucking good hyung, what the hell,” Jisung exclaimed loudly once they were finished eating. “Did you put some special ingredient in it or something? It’s so good !”

“T-thanks, Sungie,” Minho said, smiling softly, his neck burning with a blush. “And no, it's just normal fried rice…”

“Hyung! You should become a professional chef, this is so fucking delicious!”

“Calm down, Sung-ah, it's not a big deal,” Minho said, cleaning up their dishes. “Besides, tonight is to celebrate you finishing your paper! I'm very proud of you.”

Minho gasped when Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho's back, his cool fingers sliding underneath the older's shirt and tracing circles on his stomach. “Thanks, Min,” Jisung murmured lowly into Minho's ear, making him drop the spoon he was washing into the sink.

“Y-you're welcome, S-Sungie,” he stuttered, his stomach tensing under Jisung's touch. The younger squeezed down on his hips, and Minho melted into a puddle in Jisung's hands. “Sung?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” Minho whispered, his breathing picking up as Jisung's hands slowly trailed lower.

Jisung chuckled into Minho's ear, and fuck, that was probably the hottest thing Minho had ever heard in his life. He whimpered, fully leaning against Jisung now as the younger moved his hands down until they were just under his waistband, teasingly rubbing against his hip bones. He nuzzled his nose against Minho's neck, kissing the skin gently before moving away, leaving Minho wobbling against the sink. He placed both hands on the counter to steady himself, his ears burning and skin tingling where Jisung had touched him.

“What movie are we gonna watch, hyung?” Jisung called from what Minho assumed was the living room couch, and Minho just shrugged before realizing Jisung probably couldn't see him.

“Y-you choose while I'm finishing up washing the dishes, Sung-ah,” Minho said, turning back on the sink to wash the rest of the dishes from their dinner.

“Okay, hyung-ah!”

Minho smiled, quickly finishing up the dishes before heading into the living room, collapsing on the couch next to Jisung. The younger pulled Minho fully against him, laying the older's head on his chest. He wrapped one of his arms around Minho's waist, resting his hand on the older's thigh.

Minho grabbed Jisung's hand and started to mess with his fingers, squeezing them and tracing them and observing them to the point that whatever moving they were watching together was going completely over his head.

He looked at each of Jisung's fingers intensely, trying to memorize each one. They were all so straight and pretty and perfect, except for Jisung's pinky, which was still pretty and perfect, but not as straight.

Minho smiled, grabbing Jisung’s other hand and comparing the two. Both similar and both so fucking perfect. It made Minho feel insane with how much he loved Jisung's hands. They were so perfect and pretty and Minho needed them deep insi-

“Min, are you paying attention?” Jisung asked suddenly, making Minho jump in surprise.

“N-no…”

“That's alright, Min, you don't have to,” Jisung said softly, squeezing Minho's hands within his own.

Minho smiled softly, rubbing his thumb over Jisung's knuckles, tracing small circles over them. He brought one of Jisung's hands close to his face, staring at it intensely. His mouth fell open slightly as he stared, and shit , he needed Jisung's fingers in his mouth, like, yesterday.

He folded two of Jisung's fingers down and gently slid Jisung's pointer and middle finger into his mouth, flattening his tongue to make the slide easier.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatcha doing?” Jisung asked softly, pressing his fingers down against Minho's tongue.

Minho hummed softly, sucking on Jisung's fingers as he tried to pull them further into his mouth.

Jisung just chuckled, letting Minho do what he wanted with his hands while he turned back to the movie on Minho's TV. The older ended up closing his eyes and letting his brain grow fuzzy, his thoughts fading into a pleasant hum in the background as he zoned out to the feeling of Jisung's fingers deep down his throat.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

By the time Minho zoned back in, Jisung's fingers were still in his mouth, but the movie was over and Jisung was asleep.

Minho hummed, sucking on Jisung's fingers idly as he cuddled up closer to the younger. Jisung's fingers fit so nicely inside of his mouth, as if he was made to have them inside all the time. And if he could have Jisung's fingers in him all of the time.

He whimpered as Jisung's fingers pressed down against his tongue, and he slurped loudly as drool leaked out of his mouth and ran down his chin. Slowly, Jisung's fingers started to pull out of Minho's mouth, and he whined before they were pushing back in, choking him softly.

Minho's eyes fell closed as Jisung's fingers pushed in just enough to activate his gag reflex before they pulled out until the pads of Jisung's fingers were rubbing against the backs of Minho's teeth. The movements were repeated again and again and again until Minho was a whining, writhing mess next to Jisung, his cock hard and aching in his sweats and his mind deliciously empty, void of any thoughts besides those about Jisung's fingers and how they felt pressing in and out of his mouth.

He sobbed as Jisung pressed his fingers as deep as possible, gagging Minho and making tears roll down his cheeks. He moaned as he came without any friction on his cock, feeling so, so sensitive as Jisung's fingers stilled, still deep down Minho's throat.

Minho blushed heavily, gently pulling Jisung's fingers out of his mouth and climbing off of the couch, his heart beating at what felt like one thousand miles per hour. He quickly walked into his room and pulled off his sweats and boxers, wincing at how spoiled they were as he tossed the clothes in his hamper.

Did he seriously just cum in his pants from his friend fucking his mouth with his fingers while said friend was asleep ?! That had to be some form of non-consent, right?

Minho pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and sat on the edge of his bed. He felt ashamed, to say the least. His body felt sensitive and his ears burned in embarrassment. The worst part, maybe, was that his mouth felt horribly empty from the lack of Jisung’s fingers—not like he’d ever be letting the younger go anywhere near his mouth again anytime soon anyway.

He laid down on his back, sighing loudly. Why, why, why did Jisung’s fingers feel so good? Why did he even put them in his mouth in the first place ?!

Lee Minho was a mess. A mess of emotions and feelings and terribly, embarrassing horniness that he couldn’t even control around his best friend whom he’s known for years . He wasn’t in love with him, or anything, right? His hands were just attractive and Jisung was just plain attractive and he also had the best, most boyfriend-like personality, like, ever. But Minho didn’t have a crush on him, right? Jisung was just his friend… Right? Right?

Minho stood back up and walked into the living room, staring fondly at Jisung’s sleeping face. Puffy, soft, and glowing.

Shit . Minho was down bad .

Despite the sudden realization of his intense and very real feelings for the younger, Minho carefully picked up Jisung’s sleeping body and carried him into his room, tucking him into his bed that was more than big enough for the two of them to share, and yet Minho felt like he was hurting him somehow. Like maybe Jisung would feel offended if he woke up lying next to Minho and he’d somehow be able to see that the older was deeply in love with him and toss him out of bed, or something like that.

Minho pulled the blanket over Jisung and climbed in next to him, blushing like a rose when the younger rolled over and latched onto Minho like a barnacle in his sleep.

And eventually, with a racing heart and an even faster moving mind, Minho fell asleep in Jisung’s arms. (And maybe he held onto his hands again, too—although he’d never tell anyone if that was true)

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

It was a terrible next few weeks, in Minho’s opinion. He never realized how Jisung was literally everywhere in his life. They went to school together, they lived a few minutes away from each other, they had at least one meal together every single day . They were attached at the hip.

Were they already actually dating and Minho didn’t know?! Did Jisung think they were dating? Or was this just something that best friends did together all the time?

And by this , Minho means sitting on his best friend’s bed with Jisung's fingers in his mouth while the younger lazily scrolled through his socials..

“Hey, Min?”

“Hmm?” Minho hummed around Jisung's fingers.

“Why do you like this so much?” Jisung asked, gently sliding his fingers out of Minho's mouth.

“Sorry,” Minho apologized softly. “I know it's weird…”

“No, hyung-ah, I don't mind it… I just wanna know why.”

“It's… Comforting, I guess? It just feels nice.” Minho giggled softly, curling up against Jisung's side. “I feel closer to you.”

“Oh…” Jisung grinned, offering his hand back up. “Does it make your brain feel all nice and blank, hyungie?”

Minho nodded. “Yeah…”

“Hmm, so that's why you're so cute and pliant around me now, yeah?” Jisung said teasingly, placing a gentle kiss on Minho's head.

“ Sung-ah ~” Minho whined, pushing Jisung away. “I am not pliant .”

Jisung chuckled softly, pulling Minho back into his lap. “Oh? You're not?” Jisung asked, shrugging playfully. “Then I guess I won't let you suck on my fingers anymore…”

Minho squeaked. “Don't say it like that , it makes it sound weird!”

“It is weird, Min-hyung,” Jisung argued.

Minho whined, rolling off of Jisung and laying on his back next to him. “I'll bite you next time,” he threatened.

“Sure, baby.”

Minho grabbed one of Jisung's pillows and screamed into it loudly out of embarrassment. His ears burned and his heart ached and his stomach fluttered with butterflies from the simple pet name from Jisung. “ Stop ,” he whined, kicking his legs against the bed.

Minho froze when he heard Jisung whisper something that sounded too much like “my pretty boy”, and Minho took the pillow off of his face to look at the younger in confusion.

“W-what did you say?” he asked shakily. My, my, my, he said my , I'm his .

“Hm?” Jisung's eyes were wide and his lips were pursed as he looked down at Minho, his cheeks tinted red. “Oh, nothing you need to worry about, Min-hyung. I was just talking to myself.

“Oh… okay.” Minho looked away, trying to hide his pout. Maybe he didn't say that, then…

“Something wrong, hyung.”

Minho huffed, grabbing Jisung's hand and messing with his fingers. “Nope.”

Jisung chuckled. “Okay then.”

Minho squeezed Jisung's palm gently. “ God , why are your hands so perfect ?! It's not fair !” he complained, comparing the size of his hand with Jisung's.

“What do you mean? They're not-”

“Shut up. Just look at them!” Minho held up Jisung's hand in front of his face. “They're so delicate and pretty and I want them in my ho- uhm… I just really like them.”

Jisung blushed madly. “Where you want them, Min?” he asked teasingly.

“I'm my mouth,” Minho said, opening his mouth wide for Jisung's fingers. “Please…?”

“That's not what you said,” Jisung grumbled under his breath, giving Minho his hand anyway. Minho giggled, climbing into Jisung's lap so that he could be even closer to the younger.

He gazed up at Jisung fondly as the younger pushed his fingers into Minho's mouth, chuckling softly as Minho's eyes seemed to unfocus.

“You're so fucking cute,” Jisung whispered, petting Minho's hair with his other hand. Minho blinked slowly, staring up at Jisung with fond, dazed eyes. “See, you're my pliant little boy.”

Minho whimpered, scooting closer to Jisung, taking his fingers in deeper. My… He said my, he thought to himself happily, closing his eyes gently.

“Such a good boy.”

Minho smiled and slowly fell asleep in Jisung's lap with those sweet words rattling through his empty mind.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

It had been a week since Minho had realized that he was in love with Jisung, and a week of forcing any perverted thoughts about Jisung out of his head. He should've known that having Jisung's fingers down his throat all the time would've been bad for his brain and his dick… But he wasn't thinking. At all.

And fuck , just remembering the feeling of Jisung's fingers in his mouth and being called a good boy made him so fucking horny.

Tonight was one of those rare nights where Jisung was too busy to hang out, so he couldn't eat dinner with Minho like he usually did. Which was probably a good thing. It meant that Minho wouldn't be embarrassing himself in front of the younger and if Jisung was actually here, Minho would probably ask him to fuck him or something equally as deranged.

He rolled onto his stomach and whined softly into his pillow, writhing out of his sweats and boxers impatiently. He needed Jisung so fucking bad .

He wrapped his hand around his cock and rolled his hips into it quickly and sloppily, biting down on his pillow to muffle his moans. He mewled into his pillow loudly, tightening his hold on his cock before deciding that it just wasn't enough.

Keeping a tight fist around his cock, he crawled over to his night stand and dug through it, pulling out a bottle of lube excitedly.

He coated his fingers and slowly stuck them into his hole, moaning loudly. He was so pent up, so needy for Jisung. He pushed a second finger into his hole, whimpering into his pillow as he pushed in far enough to brush the pads of his fingers against his prostate.

He whined, trying to get his fingers in even deeper. Why were they so damn short ?!

He fucked his fingers in and out of himself quickly, moaning each time he brushed against his sweet spot. His mouth fell open as he let out moan after moan of pleasure, arching his back to try to get his fingers even deeper.

“Sungie, hnngn , Sung-ah,” he moaned, wishing, yearning, almost practically believing that the fingers inside of him were actually Jisung's fingers and not his own.

He whimpered, sobbing out as he rubbed against his prostate. He wished that Jisung was there with him, touching him, making him feel good, calling him his good boy .

Minho moaned so loud it could be confused with a scream, panting heavily as cum spurted out of his cock and over his fist. He let out a loud sigh before collapsing onto his sheets, pulling his fingers out of his hole and promptly falling asleep.

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

Minho woke up with a start, finding Jisung's face mere centimeters from his own.

“S-sung?” he grumbled drowsily, blinking slowly. “What're you doing here?”

“Why aren't you in class?” Jisung asked, running his fingers through Minho's hair gently.

“Uhm, what time is it?” Minho said, his brain fuzzy as Jisung continued to comb through his hair.

“Eleven.”

“What?!” Minho sat up abruptly, before realizing, in complete horror, that he wasn't wearing any clothes. “Sung-ah,” he mumbled. “Did I have the blanket over me when you came in…?”

“No,” Jisung replied, giggling softly as Minho whined into his blanket in embarrassment.

“Are you laughing at me?” he cried, trying to curl away from Jisung.

“Min, it's okay.”

“No. It's not ~” Minho argued, trying to push Jisung away. “Y-you saw me n-naked and-”

“And I thought it was cute,” Jisung interrupted, making Minho squeak.

“Cute?!”

“Yeah. You don't have to be embarrassed, baby, it's normal to do that stuff,” Jisung reassured softly, petting Minho's head.

“No, Jisungie, it's not … Getting off might be normal b-but what I did wasn't.” Minho whined even louder, so horribly embarrassed. “I w-wished it was you, that's not normal, that's so creepy!”

Jisung froze. “You did…?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Jisungie,” he cried, throwing the blanket over his head and hiding himself from his best friend. Why the hell did he say that?! Was he insane?!

Jisung sat on the bed on top of Minho's thighs, pulling the blanket off of his head. “Why are you so embarrassed, baby?”

Minho whined and shook his head frantically, getting a pout from Jisung. The younger climbed off of Minho and instead sat next to him on the bed, dragging Minho's body into his lap and hugging him close.

“What's wrong?”

“I-I'm a bad friend,” Minho sobbed, burying his face in Jisung's shoulder. “I- your fingers get me so riled up… So w-when I was home alone last night, I just couldn't handle it so I-I fucked myself and p-pretended that it was you, and now I'm so embarrassed and I'm such a terrible person-”

“It's okay, hyungie,” Jisung whispered, rubbing Minho's head gently. “I know my hands get you all worked up, that's why you like them so much, yeah?”

Minho nodded meekly.

“Yeah… Here, baby.” Jisung offered Minho his hand, and the older frowned up at Jisung.

“What are you-”

“Helping you, baby boy.”

Minho whimpered. “S-stop…”

“Do you want me to or are you just saying that?”

Minho froze. Did he want Jisung to stop? No, never. “J-just saying it, Sungie…”

“Good boy.” Jisung pushes his hand past Minho's plump lips, shoving his fingers as far in as they could go. Minho moaned softly, letting his eyes slip shut.

“You know…” Jisung started slowly, getting a hum from Minho in reply. “I wasn't actually asleep that night…”

“Hm?” Minho tried to say in confusion, trying to get Jisung's fingers out of his mouth, but the younger just pushed them right back in.

“On our movie night, when you made me fried rice… After the movie ended, my eyes were closed and my fingers were in you mouth, a-and I wanted to choke your or something, so I started to m-move my fingers, b-but instead of getting choked y-you moaned .” Jisung took a deep breath. “B-but i just kept going because I wanted to make you feel good, and it was endearing how sensitive you were. You sounded like you were enjoying it, too, so I didn't want to stop and I also felt like that would be the only chance I'd be able to do something like that with you because you're my best friend and I'm in love with you.”

Minho blinked rapidly. He knew ?! He did it on purpose ?! He loves me?!

“I know, t-that it's a lot and you probably can't think v-very well right now, and-”

Minho pulled Jisung's fingers out of his mouth, moving forward and shutting the younger up with a kiss. It was smooth and warm and felt so fucking perfect. Jisung was perfect for Minho.

“I love you, too, Sungie,” Minho whispered, cupping Jisung's face. “So much.”

Jisung giggled, grabbing Minho's hips and pulling him closer. Minho whimpered as his cock rubbed against Jisung's stomach, his ears burning with shame from how worked up he was already.

“Oh baby, are you hard?” Jisung asked softly, kissing Minho's nose. Minho nodded gently, closing his eyes tightly when Jisung reached down to rub against his cock.

“F-fuck, Sungie…” he mumbled, thrusting his hips up against the younger's hand. He shoved his head against Jisung's neck, panting against his skin as Jisung continued to rub his cock through the blanket, so sensitive to his touch. “Please, Sung-ah, please.”

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Please fuck me,” Minho whispered, gasping as Jisung pressed his hand down harder. “Please, please.”

Jisung kissed Minho slowly, grinning when Minho became even more pliant against him, his body fully slumped against Jisung's.

“You're so cute, Min-hyung,” Jisung whispered, gently lowering Minho onto his back. “My perfect little boy.”

Minho covered his face with his hands and whined loudly in embarrassment. “ Sung-ah ~!”

“Cute,” Jisung said under his breath, gently pulling the blanket off of Minho's body. He took in a slow breath, his eyes scanning up and down Minho's body until the older was trying to cover himself up in shame.

“No, no, no, baby, none of that,” Jisung murmured, grabbing Minho's hands and pinning them to the sides of his body. “I wanna see each and every little bit of you.”

Minho whimpered. “Sungie…”

“Hmm?”

“Need-” Minho cut off with a loud moan as Jisung fisted his cock, stroking him with quick, harsh movements. “ Hnngnh …”

“Oh baby… So dumb already?”

Minho nodded frantically, gripping the sheets and twisting his head from side to side in pleasure as Jisung rubbed his palm against the head of his cock.

“Need you, please, Sungie- hah -” Minho begged, thrusting his hips up into Jisung's hand. “I c-can't take it… Please fuck me, please Sungie…”

“Shh, I will, baby, I will,” Jisung promised, sliding off the bed to quickly strip off all of his clothes, tossing them onto a pile on the floor next to Minho's bed.

Minho rolled over onto his stomach, propping his ass up on his knees and leaving his arms on the bed.

“Eager, hmm?” Jisung teased, pulling up Minho's head by his hair and kissing him softly. “That's so cute.”

“Don't wanna be cute,” Minho argued with a pout.

“Oh, then what do you wanna be?”

“Sexy.”

“You are sexy, hyung,” Jisung reassured, climbing on the bed behind Minho and groaning. “ Fuck , so pretty, too.”

“I-I am?” Minho asked shakily, whimpering when Jisung squeezed his ass.

“Very pretty,” Jisung whispered, finding the bottle of lube left on Minho's sheets from the night before and coating his hand in the smooth liquid.

Minho's mouth went dry in anticipation, feeling his cock start to leak onto the sheet beneath him.

“Sung-ah, please?” he asked softly, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as Jisung gently slid one of his fingers into his hole. It felt so much better than he'd ever imagined, and he felt full almost immediately, the younger's finger reaching so much deeper than his own could.

“ Fuck , baby boy, you're so tight, too,” Jisung groaned, pumping his finger in and out of Minho's ass quickly. “So fucking perfect.”

Jisung gradually worked his fingers into Minho's hole until he was four fingers deep, the older moaning and writhing against the sheets, Minho's mind deliciously empty from the pleasure.

“You like my hands, don't you, pretty boy?”

Minho whimpered and nodded frantically, arching his back as Jisung pressed his hand in deeper, his fingers curling up and rubbing against the sweet spot inside of Minho that just felt so good .

“Y-yeah, yeah, I do,” Minho mumbled, grasping at the sheets frantically.

“Good boy, you're doing so fucking good baby boy,” Jisung praised, gently spreading Minho's cheeks with his left hand and he fucking in and out of Minho's hole with his right. “Can I fist you, baby?”

“ Hnngn… !” Minho's vision went white as he came, moaning loudly as he rocked his hips back against Jisung's hand. “Yes, yes, please!” he begged, grabbing his pillow and holding onto it tightly. “ Please !”

Jisung stopped in his movements almost abruptly, rubbing Minho’s spine comfortingly as he shakily came down from his orgasm. “Are you sure, baby? You just came really hard…” Jisung mumbled, his fingers twitching deep inside of Minho’s hole, accidentally pressing up against his sweet spot and making Minho whimper loudly.

“I-I can take it, Sung-ah,” Minho promised, his legs almost collapsing underneath him as Jisung pressed in deeply, gently easing in his thumb until his whole hand was inside of Minho’s hole.

“ Shit , baby, you’re just sucking me in,” Jisung whispered, twisting his hand inside of Minho and making him scream out a loud moan.

“S-sungie, Sungie, please~” he moaned, tears pricking at his eyes as he clenched down around Jisung's wrist.

“Oh baby, is this too much for you?” Jisung asked teasingly, grinning when Minho clenched down hard around his forearm, trying to keep him inside.

“Fuck, hnngnh , no! D-don't stop, Sungie, please don't!” Minho pleaded, sobbing out as Jisung's knuckles brushed across his prostate.

“I won't, baby boy,” Jisung promised gently, curling his fingers inside Minho, making him whimper.

“N-need your cock, please, Sungie…”

Jisung giggled, fucking his fist in and out of Minho's hole gently. “You won't even feel it now with how loose you are, baby…”

“Yes, I will,” Minho argued with a pout, turning over his shoulder to look back at Jisung. “You're big .”

Jisung blushed, pushing his hand deeper into Minho and making him collapse on the bed with a loud moan. “You're too sweet.”

“L-lemme flip over, please, Sungie,” Minho asked gently, sobbing into his pillow as Jisung pulled his hand out of his hole.

“ Fuck , Min, you're gaping,” Jisung whispered, rubbing Minho's ass gently.

Minho whimpered, rolling onto his back with a huff. He chuckled, giving Jisung a dazed smile as he scooted down the bed to be closer to the younger. “Now please fuck my gaping hole with your big, hard cock before I cry.”

Jisung barked out a loud laugh, grabbing Minho's hips and lining his hole up with his cock. “Please don't say anything like that ever again, baby,” Jisung said gently, laughing under his breath at Minho's angry glare.

“I thought I was sexy.”

“You are, what you said was not,” Jisung deadpanned, lining his cock up with Minho’s hole and sliding in with one smooth thrust.

The older choked on a loud moan, arching his back off of the bed as Jisung bottomed out deep inside of him. “Sungie, fuck , you’re so hot.”

“Thank you, baby boy,” Jisung replied with a giggle, gripping Minho’s hips tightly as he slowly started to move.

“Please, wan’ your cock so bad,” Minho babbled, his words becoming nonsense as Jisung thrusted in and out of Minho’s hole, his thrusts slowly gaining speed and making Minho cry out with each brush of the head of Jisung’s cock against his prostate.

“You already have it, baby,” Jisung said with a giggle, fucking into Minho quickly. “You're- hah , such a good boy, Min, taking me so well.”

Minho gasped as he felt Jisung pressing deep into his guts, the pressure of the head of his cock nudging deep inside of his hole and making him sob in pleasure.

“Look, baby…” Jisung said airily, slowing down his thrusts until they were hard and deep.

Minho looked up at Jisung shakily, finding the younger gazing down at his stomach in amazement. He followed Jisung's stare until he spotted it, biting back a moan as he watched Jisung's cock press against the inside of his stomach, bulging his tummy just enough that it was visible.

Minho let out a loud whimper, throwing his head back as Jisung sped back up, aiming his thrusts perfectly at Minho's sweet spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck ! ‘M gonna cum, Sungie…!” he cried, wrapping his legs around Jisung's waist to keep him close.

“Again? You're such a sensitive little boy, aren't you Min?” Jisung asked teasingly, stroking Minho's cock gently in time with his thrusts.

“Y-yeah, yeah, hnnghn ~ ‘M y-your sensitive boy, all yours,” Minho babbled, grabbing Jisung hands and trying to latch their fingers together. “Gonna cum, Sungie…”

“Cum, baby boy,” Jisung whispered, squeezing Minho's hands gently as the older let out a loud moan, coating his stomach in his cum.

Jisung moaned deeply at the feeling of Minho clenching down around him through his orgasm, bringing him to his own harsh and abrupt climax. His hips stuttered slightly as he fucked Minho through his orgasm with sharp, tiny thrusts until his was done releasing his cum inside of the older.

“Sungie?”

“Hmm?” Jisung asked softly, leaning down and kissing over Minho's face lovingly.

“Be my boyfriend?”

“Of course, baby boy.”