Chapter Text
Sunlight peeked through the curtains, rousing Jisung from sleep. He stirred, realising his face was buried in the soft cotton of Minho's t-shirt, a surprisingly comfortable makeshift pillow. Oh God. He’d gotten drunk and acted like a fucking fool. The night unfolded before his closed eyes in a rapid sequence, each image more cringe-worthy than the last. Sure, the outcome was great, but he could have gone about it a better way.
Minho had been lying awake, enjoying the closeness, and when he felt Jisung stir, he pulled him up his body so that they could cuddle each other side by side, faces only inches apart. “Good morning, pretty.”
Fuck. Jisung was a little hungover, but this was still the best he’d ever felt.
“Your standards are way too low,” groaned Jisung, making Minho chuckle, the vibrations thumping on Jisung’s chest warmly.
“You were so fucking cute,” Minho’s voice still carried a rasp from sleep and it melted Jisung like honey. “If I’d have known you were open to me flirting properly, I wouldn’t have held back. I’m sorry if it came out as insincere. I’ve been trying to talk to you all term and I guess my pacing was off.”
“That’s not really how I felt. I was just being dramatic and stupid - trying to provoke you into doing something rather than having the guts to flirt with you back.”
Minho’s laugh was so gentle and sweet, and Jisung mused how there wasn’t much that he could do to rattle the boy in his arms. Everything he put out was readily accepted and appreciated.
“If I brush my teeth, will you kiss me?” A rush of excitement left Jisung breathless as he spoke.
“Anything you want,” Minho offered cooly, but his attempt to appear unaffected crumbled under the weight of his emotions. “I’m gonna brush my teeth too and feed the cats, okay? Maybe some coffee?” He pressed a single, soft kiss high on Jisung’s cheek before gently extricating himself and padding across the room.
Kicking the blankets as butterflies erupted in his stomach, Jisung looked around the room for his phone. Minho had plugged it in for him overnight, both their phones side by side on the dresser, Jisung’s glasses folded neatly and placed on top. He put them on to check his phone.
There was a reply from Jeongin to the one he’d sent last night about not coming home. A veritable dog’s breakfast of drunken encouragement, typos, and accidental button presses. A warm feeling settled in Jisung’s chest. Felix had also messaged him. The text read ‘lol’. Jisung took a screenshot and forwarded it to Minho with a chuckle. It was last night when Felix convinced him that Minho's behavior towards Jisung was distinct from his behavior towards others. He worked on elevating Jisung's confidence, so he felt deserving of affection from someone like Minho. Felix was kind-hearted, and it reflected positively on Minho to have such brilliant friends like Felix.
Jisung washed up while Minho puttered about in the kitchen with his cats, cooing sweetly to them. The sound coaxed Jisung out, and Minho's gaze swept appreciatively over him as he closed the distance. “I told you that you look good in my clothes.” Minho’s usual flirtation took on a provocative edge as an absence of restraint hung heavy in the air between them.
Lost in the moment, Jisung found himself with Minho held against the pantry door, his own awareness lagging behind his body’s actions. It was addictive, living in the moment and Minho was his drug of choice.
A breathless gasp left Minho's lips. His gaze drifted to Jisung's mouth, desire igniting in his wide eyes. He was momentarily caught off guard, held at the mercy of the smaller boy. Jisung's palm pressed against Minho's chest, the erratic thump under his hand a counterpoint to the frantic thrumming in his own veins. He searched Minho's eyes, a silent plea for permission. When he saw invitation dancing in their depths, Jisung tilted his head, lips meeting in a tender kiss.
Minho let out a sweet sound as their lips lingered together, a smile curved Jisung’s lips as he let the lovely, needy responses Minho offered him empower him. Jisung explored Minho gently, slowly, though the hand on Minho’s chest fisted the fabric - a sign of the passion he held at bay. When their lips finally broke apart, Minho was panting softly, eyes unfocused and glazed when he ground out, “Fuck.”
A swell of neurotransmitters, a heady cocktail usually absent, flooded Jisung’s brain and granted him a surge of confidence. He drew back, letting his composure show on his face as he left a feather-light touch graze the warmth of Minho’s lips.
Minho, who always assumed the role of caretaker, and shouldered other people’s burdens without complaint, deserved reciprocation. A fierce protectiveness flared within Jisung. It was a fire that demanded action. If they were to be together from this moment, Jisung wouldn’t just take; it was time to look after Minho.
With newfound focus, Jisung got to fixing them some coffee, breaking the tension for the moment. He measured, poured, and brewed - the rhythmic hiss of the coffee machine a soothing counterpoint to the quiet hum of their shared space.
The more in control Jisung was, the easier it would be for Minho to let himself fall apart under Jisung’s tender touches and loving devotion. However Minho wanted the practicalities of sex to play out (Jisung was happy either way), this was something Jisung wanted to take the lead in.
Blinking away the fog of his reverie, Minho took the steaming mug that was offered. “How are you feeling, Jisung? Hungover?” The question held a double meaning. Minho’s concern was genuine, but there was another layer - a silent question.
“Only a little,” admitted Jisung. “Nothing a bit of toast and another kiss can’t fix.” He met Minho’s eyes with a bold acknowledgment of what they were dancing around. “We can go back to bed after breakfast.” Flustered, Minho nodded.
Jisung wanted him comfortable, so he joked, “You know I think your self-esteem is rubbing off on me, but I’m certainly not feeling any straighter.”
They drank their coffee and ate their toast together on the couch - making light conversation around Soonie, Doongie and Dori. Minho’s usual brashness gone and replaced with something more quiet. Taking the almost empty cup out of Minho’s hand and placing it on the coffee table, Jisung swung his leg over to deposit himself onto Minho’s lap, straddling his thighs - most of his weight supported by his own legs rather than the other boy’s. Their lips met with a soft sigh, the taste of toothpaste and coffee mingling on their tongues.
“Hyung. This is all so new for us and I only want to go as fast and as far as you want to. Okay?”
Exhaling a rattling breath, Minho finally picked up his arms from where they lay limp at his sides and circled Jisung’s waist in an embrace that forced their bodies close together. “I want,” confessed Minho, sneaking delicate kisses over Jisung’s cheeks as he spoke. “I want it to be good for you.” Jisung turned his head, a silent trust blooming between them as he offered his neck. Minho met the unspoken invitation with a tenderness, his kisses a gentle exploration that sent shivers down Jisung's spine as they travelled down to the hint of skin peeking from the oversized shirt at his collar bone.
“It already is,” promised Jisung, hips canting forward as the closeness of their bodies and the fact they were clad in only boxer shorts became too difficult to ignore. “You don’t need to think so much, baby. Just feel. I’ll look after you.” Leaning back for balance, Jisung took Minho’s hands where they lightly gripped his waist and dragged them lower to his ass, a heady moan escaping his lips when those fingers dragged him down further onto Minho’s lap.
Jisung’s kiss was a demand, a claim. A heated branding of ownership sent shivers of pleasure and possessiveness down Jisung’s spine. Their tongues intertwined in a slow, tender exploration leaving them both intoxicated. “Please,” gasped Minho, desperate. “Please, Jisung.” Their bodies ground together impatiently. “Let me fuck you.”
Jisung compelled Minho to make eye contact by gently lifting his chin. “Since you asked so nicely.” One last searing kiss, a claim of dominance laced with raw desire, and Jisung climbed off Minho’s lap to lead him towards the bedroom.
“Jisung. Keep the glasses on.”
Three years later…
“Did you know that I love you?” whispered Jisung into the darkness. His fiancé sighed happily.
“Did you know that I love you even more?” replied Minho, sweet whispers turning into a searing kiss.
Minho’s touch, as always, grounded Jisung and the world fell away until in that moment, there was only them.