Work Text:
The last time Minho was away from Jisung for a fashion event, twelve guys (Jisung counted) flirted with him. From buying him drinks to sliding him their door key, Minho saw it all.
Jisung heard it all.
He was very tipsy and giggly when he called Jisung.
They don't have many solo schedules, especially those where Minho isn't cuddled up to Jisung by the end of the day. Add to that, this one is across continents.
Both Minho and Jisung had taken it well enough until the afterparty.
Until Minho started calling.
"They're asking me to dance, I miss you."
"The alcohol is so fruity here, I miss you."
"Someone just called me for a shot. I'll call you back, I miss you."
"Hi, I'm back – No I don't want a drink thank you– hi sorry, I miss you."
Initially, Jisung had been endeared. He replied with a "I miss you more, hyungie" or "I miss you, Minho" or even a "You don't know the half of it".
By the fifth time someone had interrupted them to flirt with Minho, Jisung became less enthusiastic about his hyung's drunken state.
Minho when tipsy is affectionate. Open. Magnetic.
Jisung was very far away. He could only hear the giggles and the airy quality to Minho's voice.
He wanted to be able to hold Minho, play with his love handles, nuzzle in his collarbones.
He wanted to be able to smile at other people who would try and get Minho's attention, and fail, because Jisung would hoard it all like a dragon with gold.
He'd not need to say anything either, he would just whine until Minho sat on his lap and let Jisung play with him.
Before the night had ended, Jisung made sure to not cut the call unless Minho wanted to (which he didn't). He had also asked Minho to fuck himself open on his tiny fingers, on call.
Both, to remind himself that jealousy is a disease and that Minho is a sick, sick freak just like him.
○
This time, before Minho left for an overseas schedule again, Jisung was smarter, more experienced. It also helped (and made matters worse) that they lived together now.
In the hours before Minho's and Felix's flight, Jisung prepares for Minho to be blindfolded where he lay on one of their beds.
When Minho squirms with anticipation, Jisung warns him with a stern squeeze at his thighs.
"Hyung, you'll be gone for too long." Jisung mumbles as he begins sucking bruises into Minho's tummy. "And everyone flirts with you"
"They do?" Minho sounds genuinely confused, not mocking.
"Yes hyung! You even posted that photo with the man giving you bedroom eyes"
"I think he was just being friendly, Hannie. I don't think people want me the way you think they do."
Even blindfolded Minho's a brat. A brat who doesn't know that Jisung would burn the world to roast marshmallows for him.
Jisung wanted to cry and tell him he's perfect.
Jisung wanted to scream at the world for getting to see Minho. No one should perceive and fall in love with Minho. Jisung can't fight the woman who cured cancer for Minho's love.
He would fail.
Unless he does what he wants to do.
Jisung kisses every inch of Minho's skin, from his forehead to his beautiful cheeks. His nose, that could rival the most naturally scenic mountains.
His lips.
No metaphor could explain what Minho's lips mean to Jisung.
He's tried and failed.
The closest he has come is calling them whatever holds heaven and hell apart.
Minho patiently takes it all. Let's Jisung sculpt him from his teeth, biting at the edges, licking at the folds. Build him anew.
When Minho gasps, it's because Jisung stays on his neck. On the left, below his earlobe far enough so as people don't mistake it for an itch in his ears that travelled too far. Or a mosquito. Close enough to his jugular so people know it's important.
Dangerous.
Fucking lethal, if he doesn't let go.
(That's Jisung's favourite spot. It makes Minho's heartbeat rise.)
He stays there until the bruise begins to form under his teeth, his skin breaking to make space for Jisung's love.
"There," Jisung leaves with a pop, heaving out whatever toxins he inhales from Minho's sweat and makeup. "Now, no one will think otherwise."
Jisung takes Minho's blindfold off, then sucks Minho's tongue until all of time fails to move for them.
When Minho comes up, he doesn't have the time to hide the bruise. No way to save face.
Jisung hops on his way back from the airport.
The weather is nice.