Work Text:
Lino never shows his face on camera. He’s lucky, really, to have an income stream that doesn’t need it. A good commissioned art piece makes just as functional a thumbnail or background, and a lot of his videos are black screens anyway. More immersive that way, he thinks. Lights off and all that nonsense.
Lee Minho, however, doesn’t have a good way to hide his face. Instead, he does his best not to speak where his voice could be recognized. Obviously it’s a bit of a rough time, and it’s not like he CAN’T disguise it when he needs to - he’s not sure the barista at his favorite cafe has ever heard him speak normally - but it’s better than the alternative.
The alternative, of course, being that anyone outside of his very close friends knows how he gets most of his money.
It’s not like he’s ashamed of what he does. He enjoys it, really - likes knowing he’s wanted, even in some small way. Maybe it’s parasocial of him to feel that way about faceless YouTube comments telling him how much they love how he sounds, how they wish they could see him… well, some of them get far worse in return, so it’s a little fittingly ironic. But feeling wanted, feeling desired, is something Minho doesn’t get a lot of in his everyday life. He allows himself this small luxury, reveling in the ease of not needing to worry about how he’s perceived, or if he’s said something just a little too weird.
No, he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. But it would cause problems in his daily life, with his other job as a dance instructor, with people he has to interact with on a surface level. It gives the wrong impression at best and would absolutely get him fired at worst - parents thinking that somehow what he does away from the studio is their business, that it matters to how well he can teach their kids. Better that information stays behind closed doors. Not like any of those dance moms are watching his videos anyway.
So he’s carefully separated his life into two pieces. The young dance instructor, Lee Minho, teaches kids’ classes at the local studio because he can meet the kids on their level, stops by the store on the way home to pick up ingredients for a new meal he’s been meaning to make, goes out with his friends occasionally, spoils his cats. And Lino98, the boyfriend and erotica audio channel hidden in a little corner of the Internet that uploads every two weeks like clockwork, posts on socials and OnlyFans and drops teasers on YouTube, not wildly popular but certainly brings in enough for Lee Minho to be happy being a kids’ instructor. And he is happy with it.
Most days.
”Feeeeeliiiiiiiiiiix…”
Some days he ends up here. Head in his cousin’s lap, whining about his love life.
“Hyung, I know, but you’re never going to get ANYWHERE if you don’t put some effort into it, seriously!” Yongbok pushes his index finger into Minho’s cheek, then returns to smoothing his thumb over the wrinkle in his forehead, flopping back on the couch. “There’s plenty of pretty men at bars who’d jump at you given the chance, c’mon. I’ve seen it. You turn them all down!”
Minho huffs out a sigh. “I don’t want just a pretty man, Bok-ah. I get enough of those in my comment sections.”
“Bro, you’re never gunna know if they could be something more if you don’t give them a chance. Don’t be dumb, hyung, it doesn’t fit you.”
Minho throws his forearms over his face and mumbles something unintelligible into them. Yongbok is right, of course, but he doesn’t plan on admitting that when it’s far more satisfying to whine.
His head is jostled suddenly as Yongbok reaches for his pocket. “Hey! What-“
“Gimme your phone. Got an idea. Dunno why we haven’t tried it before, honestly.”
Mystified, Minho unlocks his phone and hands it over. He watches as Yongbok navigates it with frankly frightening speed, and in moments there’s a new app downloading-
“You want me to find a boyfriend on Grindr. The app distinctly created for hookups.”
“Better than what you’ve been doing, right? I’m sure you can figure something out, and you won’t know until you start chatting, anyway.” Yongbok reaches out and flicks Minho’s nose. “Closet romantic.”
“Yah, Lee Yongbok, respect your elders.” The reprimand has no teeth, and as Minho sticks his tongue out in retaliation he thinks. “…it is text chat.”
“Exactly! So you don’t have to speak to someone until you’re good and ready.”
“…the moms definitely aren’t on there.”
“Not like they don’t hit on you at the end of class anyway.”
Minho levels him with a glare, unimpressed. Yongbok throws back a blinding grin.
“…fine. Help me choose some pictures. And they better be good, or else you’re getting acquainted with the tissue box again.”
Somehow, Yongbok’s smile gets even more brilliant. “Hyung, I will make you look PERFECT. Promise. Now let’s make you a profile.”
————————————
The light filtering in through Minho’s curtains finally reaches his eyes, and he flips over with a groan. One hand fumbles for his phone to check the time, and-
He blinks. Once. Twice.
Why does he have so many notifications?
Then the events of last night begin to trickle back into his memory, and he groans again, dropping his face into his unoccupied hand.
Making a Grindr profile with Yongbok’s help had turned into flicking through the app, giggling together over some of the profiles (and, okay, maybe a couple bottles of soju) and sending off messages to a few that seemed promising. Hopefully none of them were too embarrassing.
Those are a problem for later Minho, though, as the numbers at the top of his screen finally register.
9:13. Fuck.
He bolts out of bed, stumbling a little as his head spins, and rushes through his morning routine. He’s not going to be late, but it’s certainly less time than he usually leaves himself before getting to his 10:00 class. Two glasses of water and two ibuprofen later he’s running out the door with a slice of cheese toast in his mouth.
Class is mostly uneventful, thankfully - the girls in this timeslot are good, and he’s fairly certain at least a couple of them are gearing up for auditions soon, so they’re focused and attentive - which gives him time to clear his head enough to look at his situation a bit more rationally. With that many notifications, most of them are likely duds, right? It shouldn’t be too hard to whittle them down.
As Minho tosses some leftover mandu in a pan to reheat, back home from classes, he takes glances at his phone. He’s gotten a few more messages over the morning, although he’s decidedly made sure to not even take his phone out of his pocket at the studio in fear of someone seeing the notification. Better to take care of it all at once, and not worry about it as much.
So, then. He opens the app.
On a brief scroll through his new (extremely full) inbox, it looks like very few of the messages he has are conversations he started. He had only initiated a handful of chats, he recalls - hoping to start small and ease in. So much for that. Time to start the clearout.
He doesn’t even bother clicking into any chats that have images, knowing all too well that anything sent was likely just a dick pic. [Delete. Delete.] There’s a reason he only offers DM privileges to very well-paying subscribers. [Delete. Delete. …ok, well, he’s not ACTUALLY going to save that to laugh over with Yongbok, but… really, where had artistic sensibility gone? Delete.]
Next into the bin were any chats that had blatant sexting in them off the bat. [Delete. Delete.] He had made sure to be clear in his profile about what he was looking for! [Delete.] It isn’t Minho’s fault they didn’t bother reading it. [Delete. Delete. Dele-] Wait.
His hand hovers over the next message, another conversation starter from someone else. ever give any of your catch… Huh. If that’s leading into a pickup line, it sure was going to be a weird one. Curiosity probably wouldn’t kill the cat here, he decides, and clicks in.
ever give any of your catch to the babies?
can’t say I know too much about cat-safe human foods but you can’t tell me they don’t deserve it
Catch. The babies. Cat-safe food.
He blinks. Scrolls back to his profile.
He remembers putting a couple of pictures with his cats up, sure. One holding Soonie, another that was… well, more of an excuse to show them off than anything, of the three of them all bunched together. And sure enough, Yongbok must have snuck that last picture on there, Minho on a riverbank nearly asleep as he waited for a fish to bite. Huh.
Usually I catch and release.
They get spoiled in other ways
Sometimes they do get fish
If I know where it’s from and that it’s good.
You like cats?
He cringes immediately. “You like cats.” Ten out of ten, Minho. Couldn’t even look at the guy’s profile before replying? Ah, well. Better late than never.
And, okay, maybe it was better that he replied first, as he spends the next five minutes poring over the guy’s - Jisung’s - profile. The pictures are a wild mix of gorgeous, artistic pictures that could have come from a professional photoshoot, and poorly-angled selfies in clubs and with friends. The consistent factor is a small-ish man with hair that seems to be different in every photo, from a short silver style to a curly brown that nearly touches his shoulders. Broad shoulders that only emphasize a tiny waist, and round eyes and cheeks. Cute.
The information he reads only adds to that, as Jisung’s shared his taste in anime (fairly similar to Minho’s), the fact that he’s an awful cook but very willing to wash up in repayment (Minho could live with that deal), and a little about his job as a music producer (that explains the photoshoot-quality ones). And one very important line: Looking for something serious, I hope.
A brief sigh of relief, then, as Minho starts back in on his inbox clearout, replying to a couple more as he goes. hey beautiful, one says, which is at least polite. Cute kitties! from another, which is a promising start until it’s followed up with so you like pussy too huh ;) at which point he scoffs and closes the app. Have a real conversation, at least.
It’s a little while later that Jisung finally replies, as Minho is working on editing a video. The ping of his alert cuts through his own monologue in his headphones, and he glances down briefly to see the fading alert. He could do with a break, he decides, uncurling himself from the hunch he’s fallen into with a noise a little too like popcorn for his comfort.
love them, actually!
i’m a bit allergic though ㅋㅋㅋ but it’s worth it! I can always take meds
is it too soon to ask their names
Soonie, Doongie, Dori.
There will be a quiz later.
oh well I had better study up, wouldn’t dream of insulting those adorable faces
they all look so happy, it’s clear you take care of them well
ahhhhh look at me
started a conversation and all I’ve talked about is your cats I’m sorry
I swear I’m very interested in you too Minho-ssi!! they were just too cute
Hmm
You’re forgiven
But only because they’re my brothers
And liking them is non-negotiable
As is them liking you.
Be warned
do they accept bribes? I can supply churu
If you’re sincere
Pause. Minho blinks. Did Jisung just imply he’d like to meet his cats within 24 hours of starting a chat? Worse, did Minho implicitly agree?
Maybe he’s been worse off than he thought.
We’ll take a pause on that though
For now
Have you read Volume 13 yet
Spy x Family
!!!!!
And the conversation simply… continues. The abrupt topic jump doesn’t seem to bother Jisung, nor does it a few minutes later when the other man himself segues from fawning over Anya to horror films he’s been planning to see. Minho’s dry humor doesn’t phase him either, and he gets caught up in a back-and-forth that lasts through cooking dinner and well past Minho’s usual bedtime (Minho is never on his phone in bed, what the hell).
well then, Minho-ssi, I do believe it has gotten very late for most people
shall we say goodnight for now?
I suppose we must
You can call me hyung, by the way
I don’t see a need for formality here
thank you, Minho-hyung!
I hope you sleep well
maybe you’ll dream of me, hmm?
You’re the one dreaming
Minho falls asleep with a grin on his face.
————————————
The next day passes just as easily. Jisung does ask if they can video chat, but once Minho explains that he’s a little wary of that idea for his own reasons he doesn’t bring it up again (thank god). Instead, they exchange current pictures to confirm that they really exist.
Your hair looks good blue
Why didn’t you put any of these up
On your profile
liked the other ones better, I guess, but thank you
it’s fading out now
yours is so bright in comparison
I like the orange
Even just talking about that, or other mundane things like their upcoming schedules (Jisung has to go in to record a guide at his studio that day, and Minho triple-texts him the moment he’s done), Minho finds Jisung fascinating. He’s more attuned to his notifications than he ever has been - to the delight of his coworker, unfortunately.
“So, who’s the new cutie?”
Minho whips his head up from his phone to glare at Hyunjin, whose chin is propped on his hands on the other side of their break room table.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Hyunjin sighs loudly, accompanied with a roll of his eyes that nearly sends them to the floor. “Hyung, you’ve been on your phone all morning. I’ve seen you smiling. Now obviously I’m devastated you went out without me, but you can make it up to me by telling me all about the guy you met who’s clearly the best thing since frozen kimbap.”
“I’ll freeze you like kimbap, Hwang Hyunjin.”
“You’d miss me too much. Now, come on. Where’d you go? Blueprint?”
Minho pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought and scans the break room - they’re the only ones on shift and there isn’t a class for another half hour. Weighing the cons of Hyunjin knowing about his new… friend? Are they friends? Well, his new whatever they are, with… well. It would be nice to talk about it with someone.
“I didn’t meet him… out. We haven’t met in person.”
The gasp that Hyunjin lets out would probably be more at home in a drama. “LEE MINHO, did you download a DATING APP??”
“Sh-sh-sh!! There could be students out there!” Minho flaps his hands wildly at Hyunjin. “But. Technically Yongbok downloaded it.”
“You let Felix download a dating app for you?? Oh, my mistake. That’s sooooooo much worse.”
Hyunjin leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Have you seen his dick yet then?”
“I- what- NO!!” Ah, Minho’s ears are so red, he just knows it. “I have STANDARDS, Hwang Hyunjin, and they do NOT include people who send dick pics within three days of talking!”
“Three days? Oh, you’re down bad.” Hyunjin’s grin turns wicked. “Lemme guess. Pretty twink, big bambi eyes, makes you think about wanting to eat him, nice ass you wouldn’t mind hunting for the rest of your life?”
Minho’s eyes narrow. “He’s not really a twink.” Though that’s too much information already, and he’s out of his chair in a moment and putting Hyunjin in a headlock.
The conversation ends there as Minho was hoping, Hyunjin sufficiently distracted by the tussle to huff off and sulk in the corner about how his interest in Minho’s life is never appreciated. (It is, but Minho knows Hyunjin just likes to have molehills to make mountains out of.) What doesn’t end is the ringing of Hyunjin’s words in Minho’s head. Sure, ok. Sue him- Jisung’s pictures were pretty, and so what if he’s an ass man? Besides, it’s Grindr. Even if they were both clear about looking for something more than a hookup, they both know what the app’s there for.
So Minho only feels a trace of guilt that he can shove easily to the back of his mind a couple days later as his thoughts wander to Jisung’s pictures in the middle of a recording session for next week’s audios.
“So- fuck- cute, pretty thing…”
Two fingers into his prep for what he’s decided should be a riding scenario for the OnlyFans this week (he tried recording just lines for a while at the beginning, but it gets overwhelmingly embarrassing entirely too quickly for him to finish a script), his self-control slips just enough to bring up one of Jisung’s artist pictures: him curled over an acoustic guitar, holding it confidently and caught in the middle of a chord. His shirt sleeves rolled up- a clear shot of strong forearms and deft hands.
“You’re so good- ha, ah- good with your hands- mmnn, that’s it, baby. ‘M almost- almost ready for you.”
Talking to an empty room never quite gets less weird, Minho reflects as he takes a deep breath before sliding a third finger into himself. He lets himself hiss slightly at the stretch before hiking his leg towards his chest just a little further and beginning to curl his fingers again. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to at least… He lets his eyes slip closed and a blue head of hair swims into focus behind his lids.
Would Jisung be eager to please, or would he drag it out? Would he talk as much as Minho does in his videos, or just let out soft sounds and gasps, or be mostly silent?
Minho’s lucky it’s just him and the cats in the apartment. He’s had to get used to being noisy for these, since that’s rather the point - it would be a lot worse if he had to work around someone else’s schedule, make sure that he wasn’t disturbing them with his sounds.
“Ah- fuck, jagi, please- ‘m good, I’m ready. C’mon, sit up.”
Minho makes a show of the rustling noises as he moves around to grab the dildo he left on his nightstand - he’ll probably still have to dub some over, but any help he gives himself now is useful. He presses it onto his makeshift “partner” - a body pillow with a small board strapped to it for the toy to stick to - and with a glance at the microphone on the headboard to make sure it’s still going, he slowly eases himself down on it.
A litany of whines and gasps punch out of his chest as he imagines Jisung’s face. Eyelids fluttering, a crease between his brows, but not closing fully because-
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good- fill me so well. You just keep your eyes on me. Hyung’s got you- ah, no, don’t move. Relax. I’ll do the work.”
Another slip. He almost never uses honorifics in his videos, letting the viewer fill in the blanks, but at least he can excuse it on this one. If it was one of his more subby audios that would be a lot worse.
It takes him a moment to adjust to the pressure, but the moment he does he starts to move. He lets his eyes slip closed again, lets himself imagine his own hands roaming his body as Jisung’s, and realizes very quickly he is not going to be able to make this last long. Between his own practiced movements and the fantasy in his mind, Minho finds himself spilling over his hand only a few minutes later, an airy moan directly into the mic a cherry on top for the script he’s nearly forgotten he’s running.
He lifts himself off the dildo and slumps against the headboard, still panting slightly. “There, jagi. So good for me. Perfect.” He pauses a moment, then shrugs internally and breathes, “good boy.” What the hell, he already said hyung, didn’t he? Might as well.
A couple more moments of room static, then he claps his hands in front of the mic to spike the audio and rolls off the bed to cut the recording. Time for a shower.
————————————
Jisung stays a fairly constant presence in Minho’s daily life, both through his phone (it’s gotten to the point where Minho starts to worry if Jisung hasn’t texted him in a day or so) and in his thoughts. Minho’s next couple of videos are also peppered with fantasies of Jisung, although he manages not to put any more incriminating details in the scripts by accident. Over messages, then texts once they’ve both gotten comfortable enough to share numbers, they talk and flirt and ramble to a degree that Minho continues to be surprised by. He shares stories from the dance classes, and Jisung responds with details from his producing - he even sends Minho a couple of song clips, showing off an absolutely beautiful vocal tone and a love for lyrics. Everything seems to be going smoothly.
Jisung slips in a jagiya a couple weeks into their chat, comforting Minho as he whines about a bad day at work, and he apologizes and agonizes over his next sentence until it makes Minho laugh and reassure him that he’s fine with it. In retaliation, Minho starts calling Jisung baby and honey, but a few days later he’s sent a picture of Jisung looking so small in a fluffy coat and knit hat in a late snowdrift that he calls the other boy bug, and that sticks in the repertoire too. They’re comfortable with each other now, easy early conversations leading into even easier banter. Minho thinks that he’s maybe gotten very lucky.
Which is why, after another recording session (a much more hands-off one for him, giving the listener scripted directions) he finds himself wondering about taking the next step.
There are ups and downs. He still doesn’t have to send video or call if he doesn’t want to - and he doesn’t - but that’s less convenient. He’s fairly sure that Jisung would be into it, but what if he’s not? What if he makes things awkward, or uncomfortable?
Minho chews on his cheek for a moment, then unlocks the phone and sends a message in a rush. Fuck it.
Sungie
Are you busy
He fully expects nothing to come of it, really - late into the evening, Jisung probably either wound down for bed or out with friends - but as he’s leaning over to put his phone on his desk and get up, it buzzes in his hand.
hey hyung!
nope, just kicking around a lyric idea
is something up? did you need something?
And, well, didn’t he?
Me, and you
In that order
If that’s okay
There’s one long, frozen moment where Jisung’s typing bubble appears and disappears, appears and disappears, and then takes so long to come up again that Minho almost pitches the blasted thing against the wall, sure he’s embarrassed himself, that Jisung is uncomfortable-
oh.
like. now? you’re…
I can prove it
If you want me to
…sure, hyung.
prove it. show me.
I’m home, alone, if you… would you want to call?
Not just yet, Jisungie
But this is good
If you’re okay with it
In the time between messages, Minho takes one deep breath before turning on the fairy lights above his bed and swapping to his camera app. The lighting is just good enough to cast shadows across the planes of his chest, over his hips, and he wiggles around into a more comfortable position. Truth be told he’s a little tempted to go grab an old picture - it’s hard to take a good picture spur of the moment, sue him - but that feels disingenuous, so he sets up his phone on the bed and messes with it until he has something he’s not completely embarrassed by. Thighs the focal point of the picture, one hand slid up under his shirt to cup his chest, the other resting on his hip with his thumb tucked under the waistband of his underwear. One deep breath and Minho presses send before he can think too hard about the slight damp patch that’s clearly visible over his tip.
fuck, hyung
you’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that?
A brief pause.
what brought this on?
Ah, nothing important
Was thinking about you
Earlier
Couldn’t get you out of my head
you flatter me
do you want one back?
Please
There’s a pause as Jisung probably does a similar process to what Minho went through a few moments ago, but then the image loads and the wait is worth it. Jisung is shirtless in bed, a glimpse of a notebook on his bedside table where he must have put it when the conversation started. The warm lighting plays over his skin and highlights the swell of his chest, the dip of his abs, the slight softness over his hips. Stark black lettering runs across his left side and his right pec, strong lines contrasting the smooth curves of his body. His hair is getting longer again - the silvery-blue back of it curls around his ear in a way that makes Minho want to chew on it a little - and the hand that’s not holding his phone is pressed to the front of a pair of loose sweatpants, emphasizing the clear outline of his dick. The cocky half-smile on his face isn’t helping matters either, tongue caught between his teeth.
Holy shit, Sung-ah
Been hiding this from me
like what you see
Don’t ask stupid questions
then talk to me, jagi
tell me what you want from me, what you want to do
I’m all yours
Minho takes a steadying breath. Okay, he hadn’t really expected to get this far, but now here he is and he has to think of something to say. This is his job, for crying out loud. (His job involves a script and almost clinical detachment from the process most days. This is not like his job.)
Sungie needs directions?
just don’t want to overstep
whatever you’re comfortable with
It’s okay
Hyung can lead if you want
ah
As long as you tell me if I make you uncomfortable, too
of course
Good
Then imagine me on your lap, baby
a common daydream
Oh really
shut up
u know ur hot
uh
might be a bit slow
messaging
Minho snickers as he traces his right hand down his body to palm at his cock, keeping his phone in his left.
Poor Sung-ah’s hand is occupied, hmm
Lucky for you hyung is good with both hands
wait. you’re ambidextrous??
Yes
Is that really what you’re thinking about now
ok fair
but also that’s hot as hell
Like I said
Lucky
Not that I won’t get distracted I’m sure
My jagi’s very distracting
oh good
hate to think I might be
the only one
distracted
Would I have asked for this if you were
A pause. Not that he doesn’t understand, but c’mon, Sung, answer.
guess not
now
please?
ur teasing
Already that eager for me hmm
That’s ok
Been wanting you just as bad
Could practically eat you
wish u would
Baby wants hyung’s mouth then
You’d get it
Trace your tattoo with my tongue
Leave marks all over you
please hyung
Minho nearly startles himself with the volume of the moan that tears out of his throat. Fuck. He scrambles out of his briefs as best he can with one hand, his other frantically swiping over the keyboard.
So fucking good for me jagiya
Are you touching?
You can if you were waiting
have been
Good
Bet you could come like this too
With my mouth on your neck and my cock against yours
could
Maybe sometime
But you said you want my mouth, bug
He can barely hear himself think. His input has narrowed to the words on the screen and the slide of his hand on his dick. Jisung isn’t even saying much, but Minho is still blindingly hard and dripping precum.
yeah
pretty mouth
pretty lips
Think they’d look prettier wrapped around you
My mouth is pretty small though
Might have to make me take it
fuck
close hyung
Just from that
Cmon baby
I’ll even swallow for you
Another brief pause, but Minho’s sure he knows for what this time. He slows his movement slightly, waiting, pressing his thumb against the ridge of his tip as he flicks his wrist-
The photo he was hoping for loads on his screen, and it only takes a moment before Minho cums hard over his own hand to the sight of Jisung’s tanned skin streaked with white. He loses the phone for a moment as he grips at his sheets, stars behind his eyelids. It buzzes again as he blinks back to reality.
you good hyung?
did you finish?
Yeah
I’m good
Thank you, Jisung-ah
don’t thank me pabo
that was good for me too
I’m glad
It’s late tho
You should probably sleep
I’m sure I’ll sleep well after that
Minho grins and sends him back a heart, then swings himself upright to get to the shower. The water is just short of scalding, just how he likes it, and he can feel the rest of the day’s stress sloughing off his shoulders and down the drain with his shampoo. He hums quietly to himself as he pats his moisturizer into his face. Then, refreshed and already half-dozing, he pads back into the bedroom.
As he plugs his phone into the charger, Minho notices - he didn’t have the last word in his and Jisung’s conversation after all. Sent a few minutes ago is another picture. In the same soft lighting as before, Jisung has gone from sprawled out across the sheets to curled up in a pile of them, cheek squished into his pillow, a bright smile peeking out and turning his eyes into crescents.
good night, hyung
we should do this again sometime
soon hopefully
I’ll clear some time. ;)
Good night, bug
————————————
They do, in fact, do it again. A few days later, Jisung sends a selfie that’s clearly post-shower, and Minho doesn’t have time to engage his brain-to-mouth filter before replying wish I could have joined you. The next day, Minho posts a quick dance video on Instagram, and Jisung links it back to him with a rushed hyung what the fuck your thighs. (Minho feels a little bad for taking a couple of the things he says in that particular conversation and using them for an audio script, but inspiration is inspiration, and he’d never really given thigh-riding much of a thought before.) Soon, it’s even odds whether opening a notification from Jisung will get Minho a cute picture, a ramble about his day, or utter debauchery. He can’t say he minds.
There is one small downside to the mostly work-from-home nature of Jisung’s songwriting job, though. He doesn’t have much sense for Minho’s working hours.
hyuuuuuuuuuuung
what do you think
Minho doesn’t notice he’s crushing the water bottle in his hand until the last drops run down his wrist. Jisung’s face isn’t in frame in the picture, just everything from the neck down; Minho’s eyes trail over the lines of his tattoos barely hidden by a gauzy shirt, down to-
God. Jisung is out to kill him, isn’t he?
Didn’t know you owned a skirt, bug
Or stockings
do you like them?
Like them. Hah. Minho’s about to go feral in the corner of the break room. Delicate white lace over Jisung’s long, tanned legs, trailing up into a baby pink pleated skirt that falls midway down his thighs. He’s sitting so prettily on his bed in the picture, too, legs tucked to his side and one hand on his ankle, everything awash in that soft glow from the bedside lamp.
You look gorgeous
Gonna sink my teeth into those perfect thighs
look who’s talking, mr. dancer
“If you pop a boner at work over your twink I think I’m legally allowed to humiliate you in front of our friends.”
Minho bares his teeth in response to Hyunjin’s smirk, before sending Jisung speaking of I’ve got class soon, talk later jagi and dropping his phone back in his bag.
“You do that anyway.”
Hyunjin huffs a laugh. “We all do, it’s our love language. You’re getting along well, then?”
“…you could say that.” And it’s more than true, they are, even beyond the sexting- they’ve been talking for a couple of months now, long after most of Minho’s other attempts at this have petered out. Jisung is interested in his cats, his classes, his life. Yeah. It’s going well.
“Then when am I gonna meet him?”
“You only get to meet the ones I want to scare off, Jinnie.”
Hyunjin pouts. “C’mon, hyung. We haven’t hung out in ages. I feel like I’m losing you to someone I don’t even know, I should at least see where you’re going, hmm?”
Tendency for melodrama aside, Minho knows Hyunjin is right. He hasn’t been out with his friends since well before he and Jisung even started talking. But that requires… “Look, Hyunjin. I haven’t even met him in person yet myself. Once I make sure he’s not trolling me with some elaborate AI or secretly an alien or something, we can talk about it, huh? As much as I’d like to use you as bait, we’d need to find someone new for the studio, and that’s SO much hassle…”
Hyunjin pauses then, glancing at Minho. “You still haven’t met up with him? You talk to him every day, he sends you stuff that I don’t even want to ask about- I thought you’d skipped last week to go on a date!”
“Ah… no.” Minho grimaces. “We haven’t… even video called.”
Hyunjin’s jaw drops, but then he scan’s Minho’s face and his own expression softens somewhat. He folds himself onto the break room couch next to Minho, somehow all elbows and knees in casual moments despite his grace on the dance floor. “Hyung. What’s going on? Are you scared?”
And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Somewhere along the way, hiding his voice from Jisung had gone from a matter of I don’t want him to even possibly recognize me to…
“…what if I’m not what he expects? What if he’s imagining something else, from the texts?”
“You’ve sent him pictures, haven’t you? He knows what you look like?”
“Sure, but…”
“I promise, hyung. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Hyunjin huffs. “I’ll turn on the air fryer myself if you ever say a word about this, but as long as you’ve been texting him how you talk with the rest of us, I’m shocked he hasn’t asked to meet you already. You’re a giant marshmallow at your core.”
Minho can’t bring himself to meet Hyunjin’s eyes, but he leans sideways to press his shoulder into the other man’s. “Thanks, Jinnie.”
“And if he says otherwise, I’ll break his knees.”
“You couldn’t.”
Hyunjin laughs. “No, I’ll get Binnie-hyung to do it for me.”
Minho snorts in amusement, knocking his elbow into Hyunjin’s side. He’ll have to get up in a moment to teach his class, but for a second he lets himself relax - his friends love him. He likes Jisung. He thinks Jisung likes him, too, if he’s not reading the (bright, flashing) signs wrong. It’ll go okay.
————————————
Bug, you free tonight?
hi jagi!!
I can be, nothing tomorrow morning
got something in mind? ;)
I was thinking
Would you want to video call this time
you’d be comfortable with that?
of course I want to see you but
not if you don’t want to too
Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want it
then I’d love to, hyung
Minho did want it, he wasn’t lying, but he’d be kidding himself if he said he wasn’t nervous about it. He spends the afternoon cleaning and cooking, trying to relax, before changing into a cleaner t-shirt and setting up his webcam. This wasn’t something he did very often - why would he, when none of his posts had video of him on them? But he found himself wishing just slightly that he had more practice being in front of eyes. Oh well. He clicked back and forth in the chat app, waiting for the appointed time.
Blip. Connection.
Minho holds his breath as the video loads, watching the little icon intently, then-
There he is. Jisung, smiling big and heart-shaped, in a plain black t-shirt. Minho can’t hold back his own soft smile.
“Hi, hyung.”
His voice is deeper than Minho had expected from the songs that Jisung had sent him to listen to.
“Hey, bug.”
Minho isn’t sure if he imagines hearing Jisung’s breath catch, but he knows he sees the flush that spreads across the younger man’s face.
“Is it weird to say that you saying that sounds better than I’d imagined?”
Minho blinks, then bursts into laughter.
“Don’t make fun of me!” Jisung whines to the camera. “Hyung, c’mon. You can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about this too.”
“No, no- I just-” Minho bites his cheek, stifling his giggles. “Your voice is lower than those songs you sent me. Pretty.”
Jisung pouts. Minho wants to squish his cheeks. “I’m turning off the call.”
“Sungiiiiieeeeeeeeee. Don’t do this to me.” Minho deploys his own well-practiced pout directly at his camera. “You’d abandon hyung after everything?”
“Hyung would live. You’re not a rabbit, you won’t die of loneliness.” Despite his tone, Jisung’s stoic face fails halfway through his sentence, and he and Minho both take a few moments to get their laughter under control.
“Seriously, Sung-ah. It’s… it’s good to talk like this. Thank you for waiting for me.”
“Mm, don’t worry about it. Hardly a hardship, with you being the prize.” Jisung winks, letting the tip of his tongue slip out of his mouth.
Minho snorts. “Greasy. Maybe I should rethink it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He wouldn’t, but Jisung doesn’t need to hear it out loud. “How was your day, bug?”
“Nothing special, honestly. Fussed around with a topline for a couple hours. Had lunch. Reacquainted my forehead with the dent in the wall while trying to work out more lyrics.”
“Words not coming the way you want?”
Jisung shrugs and smiles ruefully. “That’s most days.”
“I get that.” Minho considers his options for a moment, then leans in slightly. “Would… relaxing a bit, help?”
“…had something in mind?” Jisung matches him, sitting forward in his chair. Minho watches his arms flex as he leans them on his knees.
“Well, we could watch a movie, or just chill…”
“Minho. Jagi.”
Minho smirks lightly. “Baby has a one track mind, hmm?”
Jisung’s slight smile drops just a bit, at that. “You- you know I’d be ok spending time with you regardless.”
The sweetheart. Minho’s smile turns soft. “I know, bug. But I do wanna make you feel good.” He reaches up, knocks the camera under its lens slightly as if it’s Jisung’s chin. “Just relax. Hyung’s got you.”
Jisung’s eyes fall closed slightly, his smile reasserting itself - then he freezes. “Ah-”
“…everything ok?”
“Uh.” Jisung is moving in snapshots - first leaning back up, reading something off his computer screen; then scrabbling through his pockets and firing off a text, chewing on his lip; only after a couple more moments does he look back up at Minho. “I. Hyungs want me at the- at the studio.”
Minho frowns. “At this time?”
“Schedules can be- I’m sorry, Minho, you know I wouldn’t-”
Jisung’s phone begins to ring, cutting off his stuttered sentences. He snatches it up. “Really?” Pause. “Do I have to?” Pause. “I’m- in the middle of something.” Pause. “…you’re picking me up.” His eyes drift back to Minho, brow furrowed, lower lip still caught between his teeth. “I- okay.” He drops the phone, and sighs. “I’m really sorry, Minho.”
Minho’s pout comes back for real this time, but he waves his hand. “It’s fine, bug. I understand.”
“I’ll- we’ll talk? Later?”
“Later. I promise.”
Jisung rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment, then blows out a long breath. “He’ll be here in a minute.”
“Do what you have to, Sung-ah.”
“…thanks.”
Blip.
————————————
After he’s cleaned up a little for the night, Minho pads back into his bedroom and flops down over his covers next to Soonie, who’s made himself comfortable in the center of the bed. He grabs his phone, flipping to the front camera and sending a quick selfie to Jisung - goofy angle, looking up through his bangs into the lens, silly kissy-face pose and all.
Hope the studio work goes well
Talk to you tonight, bug
The message goes unreplied to, but he expected that.
His next several messages also garner no response, which he didn’t expect.
Good morning
Did you get some sleep?
[picture]
The boys are bored
Everything ok, Sungie?
Bug
Hey
Jisung, it’s been three days
If something’s wrong, please tell me
I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk
Of course he’s mad about it. After three months and trusting Jisung enough to video call, he gets ghosted. He didn’t think Jisung was the type to do that, let alone that it would happen after they were getting along so well. But it’s pretty clear that something about the video call, or whatever happened in the studio, has made Jisung rethink their almost-relationship, so… Minho keeps moving. Calls Yongbok, who rallies the crew and drags him out of his house with Hyunjin and Chan to go dance for a while (he wishes he were dancing with Jisung, especially after a song he knows the producer wrote comes on). Teaches his classes (it must be a new hit, because one of his groups wants to learn it). Records a new boyfriend video for his YouTube (he gives in and calls the listener bug a couple of times as he tucks the microphone in “after a long day of work”).
Two weeks later, he’s just starting to really feel better about it when a YouTube comment on the newly uploaded video hits him like a train.
missed that nickname
He must be misreading it, but as he stares, it doesn’t change. Okay. He calls his viewers baby and jagiya all the time. Uses dear and love more sparingly, but neither of those came up in this one, did they? So…
The username is j1234.
He opens Jisung’s artist instagram. _doolsetnet. Name, J.ONE.
It could be a coincidence, right?
(He knows it isn’t.)
He taps over to his text messages, the last thing sent still his promise to wait. Fuck.
You’re the only one I’ve ever called that
Jisung still has read receipts on.
Minho doesn’t want to do this right now. He locks his phone again and tosses it onto his bed.
So Jisung watches his videos. He must have recognized Minho’s voice after all- after everything Minho went through to try to avoid exactly that. Recognized his voice, and maybe even invented the studio excuse to get himself out of the situation.
Minho groans and drops his head into his hands. Is having someone run away because of what he does better or worse than chasing him simply for his job?
(Worse. Much worse.)
He doesn’t get much sleep that night, tossing and turning, and running over and over his call with Jisung in his head. He didn’t pick up on it immediately… he only seemed to recognize me at the end… he’s clearly still watching my videos… has he seen the OnlyFans? How long has he watched me?
He wakes up determined to get answers.
Jisung I know this situation is a bit weird
But you clearly know who I am
And I’d at least like to know what you know
After how you left I think I deserve an explanation
The response doesn’t come for an hour or so, Minho left buzzing quietly in his own space without even classes to distract him. But this time, there is a response.
you’re right
you do deserve an answer
and I’m sorry, first of all
would you be willing to meet up with me? at a cafe or something?
I’m free all day
me too
could we meet at Star Lost around 2pm?
I’ll see you there
thank you, Minho
really
That leaves Minho a couple of hours to attempt to carry on his day. He tries to edit a video for a little while, but using the source of his problems as a distraction doesn’t work too well; eventually, after lunch (reheated fried rice - he knows better than to try to hold a knife right now) he decides to walk over to the little cafe a bit early.
The fresh spring air helps somewhat, and by the time he sits down at a corner table he’s less agitated. Still hurt, of course, still a little angry, but his hand doesn’t shake as he takes a sip from his iced americano.
He’s looking up every time the bell chimes, regardless. Thankfully it doesn’t take long - on the fourth glance towards the door, his eyes land on familiar round cheeks and fluffy hair. Jisung is looking around the cafe, trying to find him. Minho just keeps his gaze on Jisung.
Their eyes lock.
Jisung looks simultaneously relieved and worried, sending Minho a small smile and then nodding to the counter. Minho raises his own cup and shakes it slightly; Jisung nods and goes to order.
Minho breathes his own relieved sigh. Jisung is here, that’s a good start. He didn’t get left again.
The other man approaches the table sheepishly with his own iced americano. “Uh. Hi.”
“…hey.”
“Can I…”
God, he looks so unsure now. Minho wishes he would just get it over with. “Sit down, Jisung.”
The younger man lowers himself into the opposite chair, throwing sidelong glances at Minho as he takes a long sip of his drink. Minho can feel Jisung’s leg bouncing wildly under the table. It’s making the ice in his cup rattle.
“So. You recognized me.”
Jisung flinches. “Ah. Hah. Yeah. Okay. I… yeah. I didn’t realize it at first, just thought your voice was familiar. You’ve got a really nice voice, you know that- obviously. Uh. Sorry. But then you said, uh. A phrase I remembered. From the videos.”
Minho thinks back. He’s gone over every moment of that call in his head by now. “…‘Hyung’s got you.’”
He watches Jisung’s jaw twitch.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t tell me, though. You just…”
“…Ran. I know.” Jisung sets his cup down, picks it back up. Sets it down and grips the edge of the table. “I… panicked, really. You hadn’t told me, you clearly didn’t want me to know. What if you thought I had stalked you? What if you thought I was weird for watching? Or, listening, I guess.”
Minho blinks. What. “Jisung, I make the videos. I’m not gonna judge you for-”
Jisung drops his face into his hands. “I wasn’t thinking super rationally, okay?! I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but fuck, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to act normal, I’ve been following you for months, and there you were in front of me, and I liked you without even knowing it was you, and now what was I supposed to do when I already know how you-”
“Months?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “How long, bug?”
Jisung’s word-spill stops, frozen. “Ah. Uh. Just over a year, I think? Something like that.” He glances up at Minho, chewing on his lip. “…still ‘bug’?”
Minho’s turn to stop in his tracks, as he feels his ears start to heat. “…should I not?”
“No, it’s… it’s okay. Good, even. I just- I didn’t know if,” Jisung takes a deep breath, “if you’d still want to. If you’d still want. Me. After that.”
Really, that was the big question. If Minho could do this - if both of them could do this. But… something about it seemed surprisingly simple, now. “Sung-ah. I walked in here expecting to be pissed as hell. I was, to start. Pissed and hurt and figuring I’d get my answers and tell you to go fuck yourself and that would be it.” Jisung’s face falls, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Minho holds up a finger. “And then you explained yourself, and your main reason for being anxious was the reason I didn’t let you hear my voice until I was comfortable.”
“Hyung, wh-”
“I’ve tried to date. Tried to pick people up and have a good time. But a lot of the ones that show interest? They recognize me. They have some fantasy in their head, something they want me to do - a script from their favorite video, maybe, so they can see my face this time. Everyone else? They like my face, but they don’t know me. And they usually don’t like me. I’m too awkward, too weird.” Minho waves his hands a little, not quite sure where all this is coming from, but he plows on regardless. “You weren’t like them. You worried I’d think you were. And you come back and explain yourself and tell me you like me and…” He pauses and smiles. His entire neck is red, he can feel it. “I don’t think I know how to stay mad at you, to be honest. I like you too much for that.”
Through his entire speech, Jisung has been watching him, brow furrowed, eyes wide and pleading. At Minho’s last words, his face blanks. “You… like me too much.”
“Sungie, please.”
“Hyung likes me.”
“I’m not saying it again,” Minho grumbles. He looks down and takes another sip of his coffee, desperate for something to occupy himself.
Jisung’s hand catches his. As he looks up, the younger man’s cheeks are flushed, but the heart-shaped smile he’s come to love is beginning to make a reappearance.
“I mean. I hope you will. If we’re going to stick together.”
Minho rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning too. “Stick together, he says. Han Jisung, yes. I will go out with you.”
Jisung brings his other hand up and dramatically wipes nonexistent sweat from his forehead. “Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would have done with myself otherwise. Drowned myself in ice cream and Ghibli, probably.”
“Horrible way to go. Very sticky.”
“Ugh, between the tears and the melted sugar? I don’t want to think about it.” Jisung laughs, squeezing Minho’s hand slightly. Then he drops it, and stands up from the table. “Well… I don’t know about you, hyung, but I really am free all day. Would you want to go do something?”
Minho stands as well. “What would we do?”
“I was thinking maybe a walk down to the park by the river? It’s been warming up steadily.”
“Lead the way, bug.”
Time passes them by, as they sit on a park bench, as if carried by the flow of the river. They talk about everything and nothing, just like they did over text, and it feels no less easy. As it starts getting later, Minho suggests a nearby restaurant he likes, and they carry on through meat and banchan and rice until both of them are comfortable and full; even then, the quiet that falls over them isn’t awkward. Jisung smiles at him occasionally, and Minho smiles back - happy.
Their walk back (because Jisung refused to hear that Minho could get back just fine on his own, telling him that “even though that’s true, I want to walk with you, hyung! Let me walk with you!”) is equally quiet, occasional interruptions from Jisung pointing out the few stars that they could see beyond the light pollution of the city and telling Minho stories about the constellations only serving to lull Minho closer and closer. By the time they get to Minho’s apartment, they’re brushing shoulders at every chance.
Jisung turns to him, a rueful smile on his face. “This has been a lovely day, hyung. And so, so not what I expected when you agreed to meet up. So… thank you.”
Minho takes a breath, and reaches out to Jisung’s shoulder. “No, thank you, Sung-ah. I had a great time.”
They linger like that for a long moment, Jisung’s hand coming up to rest on Minho’s waist. Minho knows he sees Jisung’s eyes flick to his lips. (He also knows his have done the same.)
Jisung shifts his hand slightly, pulling Minho a step closer. “Minho. Can I-”
Minho cuts him off, “Yes, bug. Please,” and moves his own hand from Jisung’s shoulder to the back of his head as they pull each other in. Jisung’s lips are slightly chapped, but soft nonetheless, and they slot into Minho’s own like they were made to be there.
They kiss once, twice, then Minho nips gently at Jisung’s lower lip and everything moves at once. Jisung’s other hand finds a home in Minho’s hair, tightening just short of pain and pressing them tightly together; Minho licks into Jisung’s mouth in retaliation, tracing the shape of his lips and teeth until Jisung presses his own tongue against Minho’s and feeds a reedy whine into his mouth. They break apart then, staring. Minho is caught between laughter and needing to hear what other kinds of noises he can get Jisung to make. God.
“Uh. Sor-”
“Don’t you dare apologize, bug.”
“Hah. Okay. Um,” Jisung half-laughs, “I guess I’ll see you soon?”
After that? “Only if by soon you mean after I take the fastest shower known to man.”
Jisung’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Should I…”
Minho steps away, and he sees Jisung’s face fall for half a second before he reaches his arm back towards him. “Come upstairs, baby. Stay the night.”
Jisung takes his hand, but he’s still hesitating. “Are you… sure, hyung? I don’t have any clothes or anything, just…”
“Wear mine. Or don’t bother, I don’t care. Not like we’ll be needing them for too long anyway.”
Jisung’s laughter rings out then, warm and happy, and Minho’s joins it as he tugs Jisung up the stairs to his door. Dori hears the lock click behind them and rushes up, mewing mournfully as if to complain about how long they’d been left to fend for themselves. Jisung gasps, eyes bright, dropping to his knees and gently reaching a hand towards the curious cat. “Hi, baby, oh my gosh!”
Minho grins. “Perfect. The feeder should go off soon, and you’ll get to meet all of them. You’ll forget I’m even here.”
“Couldn’t do that, jagi. But I’ll gladly meet them while you’re busy,” Jisung coos, already occupied and halfway to syrupy baby-talk. Minho just chuckles and heads into the bathroom.
He makes good on his promise to take the fastest shower known to man, although there’s only so much he can rush the process of cleaning himself up. He even takes the time to stretch himself a little, remembering what exactly it was that Jisung had recognized. It strikes him as interesting for a moment that he wants to invoke his videos, given - well, everything until now, but he files that away to think about at a later point when he doesn’t have Jisung waiting for him.
He decides to leave most of his clothes off coming out of the bathroom, reasoning that they’re only about to get taken off again. Jisung’s look of amazement as he registers (from under three cats - Dori and Soonie have curled up around his legs, while Doongie butts his head into Jisung’s face) what Minho’s wearing, or what he isn’t.
“You. Hi. You’re in boxers. Hah.”
Minho giggles. “Sure am, bug. Glad to see you and the boys getting along.”
Jisung nods, still absentmindedly scratching Dori’s chin. “Yeah, they’re. Really sweet. Uh.”
Minho takes pity on him then, reaching down to scoop Doongie up and deposit him in the sling on the cat tree. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get to the bedroom before they decide they want to go to bed.” He turns to go back down the hall, aware of Jisung’s gaze heavy on his back (and definitely does not sway his hips a little extra).
He hears Jisung stumble to his feet behind him, and leads the way into his room before clicking the door shut behind him. Sorry, boys, you get to wait tonight. He only lets himself look back at Jisung once he’s moved to sit on his bed, spreading his legs slightly and reaching out.
Jisung is staring around the room, watching the string lights flicker slightly, but he moves towards Minho and slots himself between his thighs like he was meant to be there. “God, jagi. You’re going to kill me.”
“Only a little, I hope,” Minho laughs, sliding his hands onto Jisung’s waist and then up his back. “C’mere. Kiss me.”
Jisung goes, falling into Minho and pressing their lips together as if they’d never stopped from when they were on the sidewalk. He cups Minho’s face, licks into his mouth, runs a finger over the shell of his ear in a way that sends shivers down his spine. “Do you-” he catches his breath with a hiss as Minho ducks down and starts mouthing over a nipple through his shirt- “do you, how do you want-”
Minho hums teasingly, nipping softly at Jisung’s pec before pulling away. “Do you remember which audio it was that you recognized my voice from, baby?”
“I think- I might have rewatched it. Recently.” Minho glances up to see Jisung’s face scarlet, his eyes on the ceiling. “It was-”
“I know which one it was, bug.” He lets his hand slide under the hem of Jisung’s shirt, tracing over the raised lines of his rib tattoo. “What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re trying to kill me, actually.” Jisung huffs out a laugh.
Minho winks. “Like I said. Only a little.” He snaps the band of Jisung’s pants against his hip. “You should take your clothes off.”
“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” Jisung grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off hurriedly, flinging it to who knows where in the room as Minho begins to lick and nip in between the lines of black ink curling up his side. He pulls away for a moment to unbutton his jeans and kick them in a different direction, and then his hands are back on Minho, running along his arms, gripping his shoulders.
Minho sighs happily as he traces his nose over Jisung’s soft skin. “I’ve been dreaming of this, you know.”
“I didn’t know, no. I hoped.”
“You’ve been the driving force behind more than one of my audios recently.”
Jisung makes a sound that could be compared to an angry goat. “You what?”
If they’re going to talk about this, they’re going to do it in a way that Minho can keep moving with. He tears himself away from Jisung for a moment to grab the bottle of lube and a condom out of the nightstand. “Remember the thigh riding one? That was your fault. After you went nuts over that video of me dancing.”
“Oh, god.” Jisung almost sounds winded.
“Really, you have no one to blame but yourself. I couldn’t keep my mind off you.” Minho tugs Jisung onto the bed with him, guiding him to sit against the headboard. “This one was you, too. I was thinking of you the whole time.”
“Fuck, hyung. You can’t just say that.”
Minho swings his leg over Jisung’s hips, hovering just above his lap. “I can, and did, baby. Are you going to do anything about it? Or are you just going to sit there and listen?”
Jisung hisses out a breath, then settles his hands on Minho’s hips. “I like listening.” As he speaks, he grinds up into Minho, sending heat flooding through Minho’s spine. God. He’s not going to last long.
“That is what got us here, isn’t it?” Minho reaches over and grabs the lube, warming it up in his hand as he shucks his boxers with his other one.
“Oh, god, I forgot you’re ambidextrous. Why is that hot.”
“Equally good with both hands, I guess- ah.” His sentence trains off into a groan as he presses two fingers into himself. Entirely worth prepping in the shower.
Jisung’s fingers flex on his hips, digging into the slight softness that’s collected there. “Even better in person. Shit. God, Minho-”
Minho grins and lets his noises curl out of his mouth the same way he does when filming. He whines high in his throat when he finds his prostate, rocking into it for a moment - then he’s caught off guard, Jisung’s hand joining his, slick and wet.
“Is this okay, hyung? Can I?”
“Please,” Minho gasps, shifting himself, falling forward into Jisung’s chest. Jisung’s fingers are longer, fill him better, aim at that same spot and make him see stars before he’s even seen Jisung’s dick in person. “Fuck, Sungie-”
“Is that good? Do you like this, baby?” Jisung speaks into the side of his neck, plants a kiss on his shoulder, sucks a mark into his collarbone. He adds another finger, stretching Minho open, pushing him into a half-sob.
“Yes, bug, feels good, so good-” Minho’s not used to hearing himself babble like this unless he’s doing it for the microphone. “Shit, my good boy. Pants off now. Wanna see you.”
It takes a moment longer than it should, neither of them wanting to disconnect from the other, but soon enough Jisung is bare in front of him, cock flushed a pretty pink and leaking enough to pool against his stomach.
“Gonna ride you now, Sungie. Gonna make you feel good too. My baby.”
Jisung whines, high and reedy, more air than actual sound, as Minho rolls the condom on. “Minho, jagi, I’m not gonna - I’m-”
Minho laughs. “Me too, Sung-ah, don’t worry. Just hold on a little for me, yeah?” He’s already hovering over Jisung’s lap again, reaching behind himself to steady Jisung’s cock as he starts to lower himself on. And oh, he’s perfect, the heat of him pooling in Minho’s gut as he slowly raises and dips again until he’s fully seated in Jisung’s lap. “Fuck, baby. So full.”
Jisung seems to be beyond proper words now, biting his lip and breathing hard, but his eyes are fixed on Minho.
“That’s it, bug. Hyung’s got you.”
Jisung chokes out a broken laugh as Minho starts to move again. Every grind of his hips sends sparks thrumming through Minho’s body, angling his hips until Jisung is nudging against his prostate with every movement. Minho throws his head back and groans. Jisung comes up to meet him, latching his mouth onto his neck.
“Baby- jagi- touch me-”
Minho braces himself on Jisung’s shoulders as one of Jisung’s hands lands on his cock. Everything is Jisung, below-inside-around him, the heat of him, the scent, the feel, and as Jisung twists his hand just right Minho shakes apart in his arms. He comes with a yell, spilling over Jisung’s hand and onto his stomach.
Jisung attempts to move from under him, to give him a reprieve, but Minho tightens his arms around Jisung’s shoulders and shakes his head. “C’mon, Sungie, in me.” Through the haze of aftershock and overstimulation, he sees Jisung’s jaw tense, then he shifts and begins thrusting hard up into Minho. It only takes a few more moments before Jisung slumps forward into Minho’s arms, soft broken gasps of pleasure smoothing out into sighs.
They stay there for another moment, uncaring of the mess, before Minho makes a face. “If you want to cuddle tonight we’re going to have to make sure we’re not too sticky.”
Jisung laughs quietly. “Probably a good idea. I’d hate to wake up glued to a cat.”
“Ugh. You wouldn’t believe the places I find cat hair sometimes.”
Jisung’s face scrunches in disgust before both of them burst into laughter, and Jisung swings his legs out of bed to move for a washcloth. “I’ll get something, hyung.”
Minho watches him go with a small smile on his face. The sounds of his shuffling around the apartment are quiet and comfortable.
He’ll have to remember to thank Yongbok.