Chapter Text
Minho had never cared much for boundaries.
He slapped his friends’ asses indiscriminately, leaned in with pursed lips to make them squirm, and tended not to filter the things he said just to adhere to some societal expectation of decency. After all, they were close enough that he knew he wasn’t really making them uncomfortable, even when they responded with feigned disgust.
One of his favorite people to mess with was Jisung. He was the most likely to pick up on the bit and roll with it, more often than not leading to a rapid-fire back and forth in which they each upped their behavior a little to see who would break first. Over time, the boundaries between them eroded until they were casually calling each other “babe” and cuddling to watch videos together.
However, that wasn’t the whole reason Minho liked to tease Jisung. The thrill of being able to verbally spar with someone on his level was great, but the best part was always when he finally did something that caused Jisung to falter, to turn a little pink and stumble over his words. At that moment, Minho felt a swell of warmth in his chest that never arose around the other members.
Recently, though, Jisung had been holding his own. It was like a fire had been lit within him, fueling his willingness to push back, little by little, until sometimes it was Minho who turned away first, his ears burning hot and red. Suddenly, instead of squirming to get away when Minho pulled him down onto his lap, Jisung was turning himself around to face him, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly as if to ask, “Now what? What’s your plan?”
The most recent incident was when Jisung kissed the back of his neck, on camera, in front of the entire band. Admittedly, he had outright said that he was going to kiss him, and Minho had responded by making a kissy face, but neither of them had ever committed to the bit hard enough to actually go through with it.
Minho’s reaction was delayed because the second that he felt the contact against his neck and realized what was happening, his mind had gone completely blank. He knew instinctively that he should move, should react with disgust and play it off like the joke it was, but his ability to move his limbs was overpowered by a layer of pleasant static that left him feeling boneless and euphoric.
Then the adrenaline kicked in and he was ripping himself out of Jisung’s grasp, who was laughing hysterically. His brain still felt like it was rebooting, and even as Seungmin got close to him and made more kissy noises, all he could feel was the warm, firm line of Jisung draped along his back. Faintly, he heard the group cheering that his heart rate had exceeded 100, but he didn’t need the monitor to feel the blood pounding in his ears.
That night, Minho had woken up in the middle of the night, achingly hard in his briefs. He couldn’t remember the details of his dream, just the feeling of being held close from behind and hot breath tickling his ear. He slipped one hand under the covers and mindlessly palmed himself, while the other slid up his torso to press lightly on his own neck, trying to recreate the phantom pressure he had felt all afternoon in the spot where Jisung kissed him. A figure began to take shape in his imagination, breathing heavily into his ear and mouthing at his neck, and he closed his eyes to let the fantasy unfold.
He imagined encircling a slim waist with his hands, guiding it gently up and down as its faceless owner bounced on his dick, face buried in his neck and moans steadily increasing.
That was the moment that he realized what his imagination had been crafting. He had never heard it in this context, all punched out whimpers and soft groans, but he would recognize Jisung’s voice anywhere.
Realizing what he had done, the rational part of Minho’s brain screamed at him to stop, that he was violating his friend by picturing him in this way, but he was too far gone to care. In his mind’s eye, Jisung lifted up his face to hang inches away from Minho’s, cheeks flushed red and lips wet with his own spit.
He shoved his hand into his underwear and started jerking himself off in earnest, while his imaginary self moved one hand down to Jisung’s hole, feeling where Jisung’s tiny body was sucking in his own slick cock. He stilled Jisung’s movements, holding him steady and thrusting desperately up into him.
He felt rabid, acting on pure animal instinct to find the nearest warm hole and fuck it. Each time he slammed into Jisung, his whole body jolted and a sound was forced out of his lungs that he couldn’t have stopped if he tried. He was a toy for Minho to use as he wished, his own neglected cock slapping rhythmically against his stomach.
Minho could feel himself getting close, his movements becoming disjointed and jerky, when suddenly Jisung lifted his head. His eyes were trained on Minho’s and despite being the one getting fucked, he had an air of control about him that scared Minho as he placed his hand firmly around Minho’s neck and squeezed.
Minho’s eyes rolled back into his head as he came hard in his briefs, continuing to stroke himself until he was quietly whimpering with overstimulation. Coming back to his senses, he realized his own hand was wrapped around his neck and as he let go, he felt oxygen flood back into his brain.
Fuck.
He had never come that hard in his life.
How could he possibly look Jisung in the eye tomorrow? Or ever again?
Despite his worries, exhaustion overtook him and he slept dreamlessly until morning. The next day, he tried to act normal, which ironically made people immediately suspicious of him. Lee Know was not known for acting normal, but he couldn’t bring himself to jokingly cuddle his friends, let alone Jisung.
Between rehearsals, Jisung tried to lean against him to take a power nap, but the second that his forehead came into contact with Minho’s neck he jerked away and made an excuse about using the bathroom, making the mistake of glancing back as he left the room and seeing confusion and disappointment written across Jisung’s face.
This pattern continued throughout the next week––Minho mostly went back to his old ways with the rest of his bandmates, but still couldn’t quite handle intimate contact with Jisung. He had woken up multiple times since that night, breathing heavily and itching to touch himself, but each time it happened he refused to act on his desires and tried to go back to sleep. This left him increasingly tired and horny in the morning, and his friends were beginning to notice.
Finally, everything came to a head one morning when he was eating breakfast in silence on the couch next to Jisung. Having a day off, the others had gone out to some fancy mall Jeongin had been begging to go to for months, but Minho had slept through his alarm and the others left him to sleep, not wanting to deal with the short temper he always seemed to wake up with recently. He wasn’t sure why Jisung hadn’t gone out, but he wasn’t brave enough to break the thick tension in the air and ask.
Speaking of short tempers, Jisung looked pissed. He was frowning into his cereal as if it had personally wronged him, and Minho couldn’t help but feel partially responsible. He hadn’t been a great friend as of late, even if it was in an effort to maintain Jisung’s dignity.
Minho, still waking up, was completely zoned out, staring at Jisung’s lips as they wrapped around his spoon. It was only after a moment that he realized Jisung wasn’t moving either, and his eyes flicked up to make real contact with Jisung’s for the first time in days.
Jisung was squinting at Minho suspiciously, as if trying to read his mind, and Minho felt his face heat up.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“You tell me,” Jisung fired back coolly, placing his bowl back on the coffee table and leaning back. “Is there something on my face? In my teeth? What’s so interesting about my mouth that you’re actually willing to look at me for once?”
That stung, and Minho knew he deserved it, but he also had no patience for Jisung acting like a brat. “I’m not the one having a staring contest with my breakfast,” he muttered, breaking eye contact to look down at his hands.
Jisung didn’t respond immediately, and Minho glanced back up at him to see if he was even paying attention, freezing when he saw the look on Jisung’s face.
Minho had never seen Jisung furious before, but he imagined it would be something like the expression he had in this moment. His eyes were darker than Minho had ever seen them, his lip slightly curled in distaste, and eyebrows slightly upturned in a crude imitation of pity.
No, on second thought, the name Minho would give to this face was disgust.
Jisung was disgusted by him.
So why was Minho half hard in his sweatpants?
Sure, he hadn’t jerked off in a few days, which was really Jisung’s fault, but this excitement was undeniably linked to the sense of humiliation he felt in the face of Jisung’s disappointment.
“Careful, hyung,” Jisung said slowly, the honorific steeped in sarcasm, “if you keep acting like an ungrateful little bitch, someone might treat you like one.”
Minho’s eyes widened at Jisung’s language. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jisung leaned in until his mouth was almost brushing Minho’s ear.
“I’ve seen you looking. Whenever you think I’m not paying attention, you just can’t help yourself, can you, babe?”
The use of the pet name flipped a switch in Minho’s brain and he shivered, having to physically restrain himself from whining. Jisung hadn’t even touched him yet, but he felt his control surrender completely, waiting to be told what to do.
Jisung watched the shiver run through his body and smirked at the confirmation of his suspicions.
Jisung’s hand moved from the couch behind him and Minho felt fingers running gently through his hair. Leaning into it like a cat, Minho thought that he could get used to this tender treatment. This lasted only a moment, though, before the fingers were yanking his head back by a fistful of his hair, exposing his neck and making him inhale sharply.
“Tell me you want this, or it ends right now,” Jisung breathed in his ear.
Willing his voice not to crack, Minho swallowed and whispered, “Please.”
Jisung raised an eyebrow and his fingers tightened their grip on his hair. “Speak up.”
Minho couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small whine at the rough treatment, and the words began tumbling from his mouth, “Pleasepleasepleasepl–”
Jisung pressed a finger to his lips and swung a leg over his lap, sitting comfortably on his thighs. “Good boy.”
Minho decided he would do anything to hear those words again.
“But you haven’t been good, have you? You’ve been avoiding me, but I keep catching you staring. What should we do about that, hm?”
Minho, head still yanked back, steeled himself. “Anything you want,” he responded in a small voice, face reddening.
Jisung’s eyes widened, then narrowed like a predator’s, lip curled. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he snarled.
Minho tried to shake his head, whining, “Please, please, I promise, I want it.”
Jisung shrugged. “Fine. Say ‘red’ or hit me if you want me to stop. Otherwise I won’t.” Then he was kissing Minho, tongue shoving into his open mouth and fingers still tangled in his hair. His other hand came up to grip the sides of his jaw, holding his mouth open.
The thought vaguely occurred to Minho that his opportunity to regain control of the situation was rapidly slipping away, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care. His usual repressed fantasies of holding Jisung down and fucking him until he cried were being replaced by Jisung’s cruel smirk as Minho whined for him to touch him, anywhere.
“Good boys take what they’re given and don’t complain,” he told Minho sternly.
As much as he wanted to go along with the whole “good boy” persona, Minho’s stubborn nature won out. “Jisung, I’m so hard, please just fucking touch me,” he demanded, partially just to see how Jisung would react.
He thought maybe if he pushed back enough, Jisung would relent and Minho could finally get the relief he craved. He opened his mouth to snap another impatient demand, but froze when suddenly his face was pointing in another direction entirely.
Jisung had slapped him across the face, just hard enough to whip his head to the side. Heat bloomed across his cheek and he turned back to look at Jisung in shock. Jisung said nothing, but raised his eyebrows expectantly as if waiting to see if Minho would keep talking back.
“What the fuck was th–”
Minho was cut off as Jisung’s other hand struck his unblemished cheek, hard enough this time that he could feel the beginnings of a bruise forming on his cheekbone. His face burned from the impact and the humiliation of being hit so casually had him leaking into his sweatpants.
Jisung looked down at him. “Are you done?”
Minho realized that he had no witty response lined up, nodding meekly with wide eyes. Jisung looked satisfied with his response, standing up and grabbing his wrist before beginning to walk towards his bedroom. Minho stumbled along behind him and fell back obediently when Jisung shoved him towards the bed before locking the door.
“Take your clothes off.”
Minho sat there, staring blankly at Jisung for a moment before coming to his senses and stripping as fast as he could, tripping a little over the hem of his sweatpants. When he was fully naked, he stood in front of the bed shyly, fighting the urge to cover himself since he suspected that Jisung wouldn’t take kindly to that.
Jisung stepped toward him and Minho braced himself for whatever rough treatment was next, but instead he was met with gentle hands guiding him down onto the bed and turning him so his head was on the pillow. The treatment was so tender that Minho felt his cheeks flare even redder, pulling the edge of the pillow up to cover his face and squeezing his eyes shut, but his hands were pushed to the side.
Soft lips pressed against his own and Jisung’s hands ran over his torso, skimming down his arms before coming back up to his chest and squeezing. “Fuck, baby, I love your tits,” Jisung breathed against his lips, pulling back to watch as he pinched a nipple harshly, ripping a desperate sound out of Minho. Despite knowing that his pectorals were well developed, he had never thought of them like that, but the term Jisung used brought about its own connotations. Minho imagined Jisung over him, fucking his tits, squeezing them together around his cock as it smeared precum across his neck and chin with every thrust.
Jisung slid down his body, hands running along his waist and landing under his knees before pushing them up, over his own shoulders. Minho had never felt more exposed, completely laid out for Jisung to see. Returning his grip to Minho’s hips, Jisung took one of his balls into his mouth, rolling it around before releasing it with a pop.
He kissed up the inside of his thigh, along the crease between his leg and crotch, before finally reaching his leaking cock and pausing. Minho held his breath subconsciously before letting it out in a huff when Jisung suddenly took the entire length into his mouth, wet heat sinking all the way down to the base until it brushed the back of his throat. Minho realized that he wasn’t big enough to choke Jisung, and humiliation burned in his stomach. How had he ever thought he’d be the dominant one?
Jisung kept bobbing his head, swirling his tongue around the head and hollowing his cheeks like he’d done it a thousand times before, and Minho was losing himself in the pleasure when a sudden smacking sound of skin on skin suddenly sounded out through the room as Jisung shoved a slick finger all the way into his hole. A high whine was punched out of his chest that he barely recognized as his own.
Not missing a beat, Jisung continued sucking his cock while also fucking him with one finger, then two, pressing mercilessly against his prostate. Minho was losing his mind. This was his first time having someone else inside him, and the sensation was strange, but the pleasure from Jisung’s fingers and mouth was quickly overwhelming him.
Then Jisung’s mouth was gone, leaving his cock wet and exposed to the cold air. Minho whined incoherently, feeling his oncoming orgasm receding, when Jisung licked a wet stripe up his asscrack, the only warning he got before there was a tongue being shoved into him alongside the three fingers already there. It slid easily in and out of his stretched hole, and Minho’s cock jerked as he thought about how easily he had opened up for Jisung. He had never realized what a natural anal slut he would be, but he was quickly beginning to crave something bigger.
He glanced down at Jisung between his legs and groaned at the sight. His eyes were heavily lidded, barely open as he fucked Minho open with his hands and mouth. He imagined riding Jisung’s face, being able to grind down on his tongue as Jisung squeezed his thick thighs, pulling his weight down to smother his face. At that moment, Jisung’s eyes flickered up to meet his, and the combination of his burning gaze and the fingers being shoved against his prostate pushed Minho over the edge. Cum splattered across his bare torso, untouched cock twitching, as he curled in on himself like he had been punched in the stomach.
As Minho tried to catch his breath, Jisung pulled away, kneeling on the bed and opening his jeans just enough to take out his cock. Minho shifted uncomfortably, feeling sloppy and exposed. Jisung took his hand tenderly, running Minho’s fingers through the cum cooling on his stomach, and brought them to his own mouth, sucking until his hand was clean. Minho watched reverently as he swirled the cum around in his mouth, aching for something to suck on. His stomach churned as he realized what was about to happen.
Jisung crawled up Minho’s body, hooking his legs over his shoulders again and leaning in close to his face. Minho opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, and Jisung slowly let the ball of cum and spit drip from his pursed lips. It landed with a wet slap onto Minho’s tongue and he quickly closed his mouth and swallowed, feeling a combination of nausea and insane arousal as he processed exactly what he was doing. He stuck his tongue out once more to show Jisung his empty mouth.
Jisung licked his already spit-slick lips unconsciously. “That’s a good fucking girl, Jesus Christ,” he murmured, and oh. Before Minho could think about how that made him feel for more than a moment, Jisung was kissing him messily with lips covered in spit and cum. Minho kissed back eagerly, sucking on the tongue that had just been in his ass and loving the fact that Jisung correctly assumed he would be disgusting enough to accept it.
Placing one hand under Minho’s leg to push it closer to his chest, Jisung slid the head of his cock back and forth through the mess of spit and lube, catching slightly on his rim each time. He looked at Minho expectantly. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby. This is what you need, isn’t it? Need me to fuck this pretty little cunt?”
Minho nodded earnestly, whole body shuddering each time Jisung’s cock dipped slightly into him.
Jisung tutted. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Minho’s mouth gaped open and closed, trying to find the words to respond. “Please,” he whispered meekly.
Jisung frowned, leaning closer and, in doing so, pushed his dick very slightly into Minho–not enough to be called penetration, but enough that it didn’t slip out. “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to beg properly. All it took was playing with your cunt a little and you’ve gone fucking stupid.” He pushed in slightly more, making Minho’s jaw drop open and stay there. “God, I knew you would take me so well. You always were so easy to tease, weren’t you?” With the hand that had been holding his own cock, he gripped Minho’s jaw tightly. “Go on, baby. Tell hyung what you want him to do.”
Minho swallowed, feeling the remains of his own cum sliding down his throat. “Want hyung to fuck me,” he said, still barely audible. When Jisung raised an eyebrow, not pushing in any further, he tried again, a little louder. “Want hyung to fuck my––my cunt, please, need hyung to fill me up.”
“That’s a good girl,” Jisung cooed, slowly sliding his cock further in. “Keep talking to hyung, baby’s doing such a good job.”
Minho was beginning to lose all sense of shame, rambling as Jisung kept pushing in, inch by inch. “Please, fuck, please, I’ll be such a good girl for hyung––fuck my cunt, fuck my tits, my face, do whatever you want, just please please don’t stop, please, fuck, please–”
Jisung slammed the rest of the way into Minho, balls slapping his ass. Minho practically howled from the shock and pain-pleasure. “Do whatever I want, huh? Sweet baby, you might not like what I want.” He pulled out slowly, then thrust hard back into him. “Hyung wants to make you cry.” He thrust in again, building up a slow, punishing rhythm. Threading his fingers through Minho’s hair, he yanked his head back and to the side, exposing his neck.
Rather than sucking the skin there, though, Jisung put his mouth over Minho’s ear. His tongue ran along the shell, then dipped into his ear canal as far as it would go, breath hot and loud against his eardrum. It was one of the most overwhelming sensations Minho had ever experienced and he felt tears forming from the sheer intensity of the situation.
Jisung sped up his thrusts, nails digging into Minho’s hip as he pulled him down harder onto his cock, and he removed his other hand from Minho’s hair to shove three fingers in his mouth, as far to the back of his throat as it would go. Minho struggled not to gag, trying to accommodate the fingers and reveling in the feeling of being stuffed at both ends. The tears began to overflow, coating his lashes and blurring his vision.
As if he could read Minho’s mind, Jisung smiled cruelly, and remarked, “Aww, baby loves to have his mouth full, doesn’t he? Bet you wish one of the others were here to fuck your mouth. But that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?” His expression darkened. “Would all seven of us even be enough to satisfy you? Taking turns with your dripping holes, fucking you open over and over again. Imagine if they could see you like this.”
Taking a moment to gather saliva on his tongue, Jisung pulled back and spat, hard, on Minho’s face. It splattered on his cheek and lips, and Jisung pulled his fingers out of his mouth to smear Minho’s spit into his own, combining them and rubbing the mixture all over his face. “Do you think they’d even want you? Men want a nice girl, not a worthless slut with no dignity left. You’re nothing but a hole.” Minho was fully crying at this point, tears and snot sliding down to mix with the saliva on his skin, but he and Jisung both knew that he could stop Jisung at any time. His hands were free, he was technically stronger, and Jisung had given him an out if he said “red.”
Instead, he kept his hands on the bed next to his own head and let out a loud sob as Jisung slapped him across the face again, hand meeting his cheek with a wet smack. He knew Jisung was right. He had nice tits, a hot mouth, a wet cunt, and a useless, flaccid little cock slapping against his stomach each time Jisung thrust into him. He was a perfect whore and nothing else, and that was enough for him. As long as he could be Jisung’s good girl.
“Let’s dress you up next time, yeah? I want to see my pretty baby’s makeup all ruined, put you in a skirt so I can flip it up and fuck you whenever I want.” He laughed coldly. “I guess anyone could, huh? Walk around all day knowing that anyone could press you against a wall, push up your skirt and stick their cock in your dripping cunt. I reckon Chan could hold you down, don’t you think? Or Changbin, oh, I bet he’s got a nice fat cock, fill you right up.” The hand holding his hip came down to smack his ass hard enough to leave a bruise. Minho shuddered, forced to think about his friends in a new light. How could he ever see them normally again, now that he’d pictured them all holding him in place, coming on his tits, fucking his mouth?
Minho felt something building up inside him that he’d never experienced before. His cock was still soft but he felt like he was going to come. Prostate orgasm, he thought absently. He smiled stupidly through his tears, realizing how fitting it was that he was going to come like a girl. The feeling overtook him, lasting for much longer than a normal orgasm, and Jisung fucked him through it. His thrusts were stuttering a little, too, and it seemed like he was getting close. Minho closed his eyes, anticipating the feeling of being filled with cum, having it dripping out of him. Maybe Jisung would eat him out and feed it to him like before.
Then, just like in his fantasy, he felt a hand grip his throat. His eyes flew open and made direct contact with Jisung’s, their faces inches apart. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” Jisung’s grip tightened at the sides, not pressing on his windpipe but still restricting his airflow. “What if I choked you like this until you passed out?” His fingers tightened even more, and Minho wondered vaguely if there would be bruises tomorrow. He hoped there would be. “What if I held you in place while the rest of the members took turns coming inside you?” His vision started going white, but he trusted Jisung to keep him safe.
Jisung buried his face in Minho’s neck as he chased his own release, fucking him fast and hard, like an animal. It was like all rational thought had left him and he was acting on pure instinct. Then, as Minho’s consciousness began fading, his hips finally stopped and he buried himself deep inside Minho, filling him with cum.
Minho gasped for breath as Jisung finally released his neck. They laid there motionless for a minute, Jisung still breathing hard into Minho’s ear as he came down. Minho opened his mouth, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say. Finally, in a ruined voice, he managed to croak, “Is it only me?”
Jisung lifted his head to look at him. “What do you mean, baby?”
Minho blinked a couple of times. “Do you do this with anyone else?.”
Jisung finally seemed to register what he was saying, and his eyes widened. “No, sweetheart, it’s just you. Only you.”
Minho had never felt more defiled or more loved. And as the spit dried on his face and Jisung’s cum began to seep out of him, he smiled gently to himself.