In which Minho is whipped, but the feeling is mutual, so Jisung is too.
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Holy fucking Hell.
That was the only thought circling through Jisung’s head. Because there was no way the man before him was not the devil.
Or; In which Minho is the devil. Jisung just wanted sex and cheesecake. And WOW is a masterpiece.
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Jisung was quivering, he didn't think Minho would agree to this, but here he was.
He felt oddly anxious, blushing as the phone call connected, the tones cutting off abruptly and being replaced with Minho's smooth, soft voice.
Or; In which Jisung is lonely and Minho just wanted to eat his bagel.
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Changbin woke up feeling warm.
Not just warm from the content pooled happily in his stomach.
But a stifling sort of warm.
Blinking into consciousness, the tuft of pink hair pressed against his nose helped explain the heat.
Or; In which there was one story that didn't star Minsung, and instead, Changlix are soft.
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“Fuck me.”
It was said with such a woeful inflection that two heads poked out from the prep area at the comment.
“Not it,” Changbin spoke up first, pointing a finger to his nose,
Chan elbowed the shorter male in the ribs, “Well, I’m not doing it.”
. . .
“I want him to crush me with his thighs.”
There were two beats of silence following the surprisingly unsurprising outburst – muffled into the table where two plush cheeks were pressed into the hardwood in resignation – before the small moment of shock wore off and the eldest spoke up, warning lacing his tone, “Jisung.”
Or: In which Jisung is thirsty and Minho has nice thighs, and Minho is thirsty and Jisung likes wearing gold pants.
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The first time Jisung met Minho he was way out of his element.
It wasn’t that Jisung was a homebody. It’s just that crowds often overwhelmed him. He was far more likely to be found at home wrapped in blankets, wasting away hours with his friend YouTube every Saturday night, rather than getting all dressed up and being pushed around by the writhing mass of bodies in a club.
Fate is strange though.
So, when Jisung was dragged out by his two friends to celebrate a promotion, a club was exactly where he found himself.
And no one could predict that Jisung would end the night confused, with his pants - literally - around his ankles, as a flustered Minho escaped out his front door.
Or: In which Jisung is utterly compelled by Minho, but there’s something about him that’s off and it might just be deleterious to Jisung's health.
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Thankfully, as being of the male gender, Jisung had spent a stupid amount of time doodling penises throughout his school life, much to the chagrin of his teachers and the girls who had to witness the margins of his schoolwork.
Still, that innate fixation on male anatomy when he was younger had, in fact, blossomed into something far different from the ‘boys will be boys’ notion, instead, more of a ‘please fuck me boys’ sentiment and Minho was igniting that desire in him like nothing else.
It was gonna be the longest three hours of Jisung’s life.
Or: In which Jisung wants to cry while looking at a penis, and Minho just needs the money.
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Minho huffed, fingers tapping restlessly on the table as his mind drifted again. He was filled with thoughts, so many thoughts, and not one of them good. All thanks to one, Han Jisung, and the fucking piece of silicone now sitting on his table.
It shouldn’t have been making him feel the things he did, but the twisting in his gut was there nonetheless.
Or: Minho spends too much time fishing so Jisung gets jealous and buys him a gift.
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It was going to be a good day.
When asked about their favourite time of the year, most people would say birthdays, or Easter, or Christmas. These were all valid options, but there was one day they always missed, and it was one of Jisung’s favourites.
International Kissing Day.
And it was going to be even better than the last one because Jisung had something new in his life.
Lee Minho.
Or: Jisung just wants to kiss all of his friends and his boyfriend, but Minho likes to be difficult.
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“Those are engagement rings,” Jisung finally managed to eloquently mumble, less of a question and more of a statement. The elegant attire, the party being hosted in their house, the extravagant decorations and meal... Jisung had finally connected all the pieces.
“Yes, they are,” Minho answered anyway, smiling honest and confident, even if his eyes were still clouded with a nervous edge.
“My dick... is in a pumpkin.”
Or: In which Minho and Jisung get more than they bargained for when deciding to give gifts using the pumpkin hole method.
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Minho didn't have to prompt him any further before Jisung spilled more explanation, "Mum wants to meet you.”
That raised Minho's eyebrows, and he cocked his head in question.
Rubbing his neck awkwardly, Jisung looked down at his lap as he admitted, “She thinks we’re dating.”
Or: When alpha Jisung takes omega Minho home for the holidays to appease his mother, Minho certainly doesn't expect to end the trip with an increased knowledge of Jisung's body, and a decreased understanding of where their relationship stands.
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“Just… hurry up,” Jisung whined, “It’s embarrassing.”
“What is?”
Jisung squirmed and Minho grabbed at his waist, physically holding him down to stop more of the liquor from slipping away and making a bigger mess on his coffee table. Minho chose to ignore the strangled sound Jisung made at being grabbed.
“Laying here,” Jisung eventually answered, “Waiting for my friend to suck soju from my body because he said I had the perfect stomach for it.”
Or: In which Minho thinks Jisung's abdomen would be great for body shots and Jisung takes up an offer he probably shouldn't have.
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