Work Text:
Jisung wasn’t much when you looked at him. He was small, smaller than all of his friends, when it came to both height and build. He had frail arms that could barely lift books at work, and a small stomach where abs might’ve laid if he ever worked out. He’s a student working part time at a local bookshop, what did you expect?
However, after many months of torment from his (much taller) friends, he gives in and finally buys himself a gym membership online. He’s sure he’ll inevitably be one of the people who buy the membership and never actually go.
Which is why when he lands himself in front of the gym an extremely cold Tuesday afternoon, he’s surprised himself.
He makes his way into the gym, timidly flashing his card at the lady standing behind the front desk and shuffles into the locker room. He’s quick to shove his belongings into a too-small locker, fighting with the key before gathering his phone and water and bringing it out with him to the gym.
The first time he steps in, it’s a little daunting.
It’s big, made to feel even bigger with the mirrors lining the room. And the equipment is big too. So are the guys working out, but Jisung tries not to stare too long at big arms and makes his way over to the piece of equipment closest to him.
It’s got a seat. A handlebar. Some weights to the side. Standard, Jisung thinks. This should be easy, Jisung thinks.
It’s not. Everytime he tries to pull down on the handlebar, he instead lifts himself out of the seat, the weights to his side not even budging. Even when he adjusts it to the lightest setting, Jisung can only pull it down half the way before his arms are giving up and the weights drop back into place with an uncomfortable clunk.
It continues like that for the next 20 minutes. Jisung pretty much tries every piece of equipment there is, to no avail. He watches others who are twice his size use the same equipment, and can’t even get one rep on any of them.
He’s just about given up, ready to grab his stuff and head home to eat on the sofa, curled up watching some sort of soppy drama.
That is, until the hottest guy Jisung might’ve ever seen walks up to him, cocking his head to the side and scanning Jisungs form on his latest attempt at the gym's equipment.
“Do you need some help? You seem like you’ve been kinda struggling for the last half an hour and I thought I’d come check if you’re doing okay.”
Jisung is ready to curl up into a ball and never come back out. This is so embarrassing, he thinks, I was being that fucking obvious? He lets out a timid, “I was about to go. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your workout either.” because as much as Jisung needs the help, he's not about to let the guilt of disturbing anyone creep up on him.
The guy smiles at that. It’s a small, lopsided smile and Jisung can see a couple of his teeth. It’s a smile that makes Jisung’s heart jump a little.
“You’re not intruding anything,” the stranger ensures, “I work here.” Jisung feels a little stupid for not noticing the badge on the guys- ‘Minho’s’ -shirt. “I’m a personal trainer here, but I don’t have any appointments booked for the rest of the night. I can help you if you want?”
Jisung's monkey brain lets him take the offer, feeling better now knowing he actually works here. Minho is nice. Very nice. He explains different exercises to Jisung in depth and helps him with his form.
When Jisung says ‘helps’, he’s not sure if he really means it. Jisung might be dumb, but after Minho explaining the right techniques he’s pretty sure he’s exactly mirroring what Minho had done. Nonetheless, Minho is there, squeezing his arms to move them, sometimes just straight up touching him up. When he asks Jisung to deadlift- just the bar, no weights- Jisung is sure he can feel Minho’s eyes on his ass the entire time.
Jisung tries to not think much of it, and it’s easy to convince himself that Minho staring at him in the mirror is just another way of checking posture, even if Minho’s gaze lands directly on his face.
Once the workout is over, Jisung is sore all over and his arms feel a little like jelly. He tells Minho as much, but he just giggles and slaps his back, sending Jisung off to the changing rooms.
When Jisung has been able to wriggle out of his clothes and shower successfully without one of his arms falling off, he makes his way to the front desk and asks the kind lady if he can book Minho as a personal assistant.
When Jisung leaves the gym that night, he leaves with two sore arms and a new personal trainer to blush over every Tuesday and Friday after classes.
The next time he finds himself in front of the gym is Friday, directly after his chem class. His brain is a little frazzled, and he’s not thrilled he had to drag his gym bag around classes with him.
He rushes in, stopping slightly at the front desk to wave at Minho, who looks busy at the computer.
Minho lights up at the sight of him, enthusiastically waving back. “I’ll go set up the equipment for our session!”
Jisung nods, scrunching his eyes in a smile and shuffling over to the changing rooms. Minho watches him as he disappears round the corner, trying not to coo at how small and cute Jisung looks in his far-too-big-for-him-jacket and large round glasses. He’s half hoping he keeps the glasses on, perched on the tip of his nose. It’s cute.
When Jisung emerges from the changing rooms, he hasn’t got his glasses on to Minho’s dismay. He looks like a completely different person to the small student he’d seen running into the changing rooms, now in grey sweatpants and an alarmingly bright red sweatband that holds his hair back.
He seems to have also grown some confidence too, not as scared of all the machines and muscly men as last time.
But when Jisung thinks about it, not much has changed from Tuesday at all. The overly touchy personal trainer is still there, and he only seems to be getting worse. They’ve started working on more than just Jisungs arms, and Minho’s touches have migrated around his entire body.
They’re on his waist, hands wrapping around both sides and accentuating his already tiny waist, even under his oversized workout shirt. Jisung swears he even feels a light squeeze when he finishes his reps. They’re on his hips, holding him steady and ‘checking his posture’. When Jisung finds himself in plank, Minho’s hand will forcefully push his butt down, keeping it there a second too long.
Not that Jisungs monkey brain has anything to complain about. Even when he works out at home, he can’t stop thinking about the way Minho ‘checks his posture’.
A couple of weeks later and Jisung has started filling out a little more, especially in his arms. He’s still smaller, far smaller than Minho, but he can see a definition that he’s sure he’s never seen before. Jisung is feeling good, and his two sessions with Minho every week make him feel even better, physically and emotionally. Jisung swears it’s because of the hormones you release when working out. That’s all.
Physically however, his health plummets. Plummets may be a bit of a strong word, but that’s what he’s been using in all his very apologetic emails to his lecturers.
When Tuesday rolls around, Jisung has to accept the fact that he really shouldn’t drag his body anywhere other than to the fridge and back, and has to begrudgingly text Minho to tell him he won’t be able to make it to their scheduled session.
When Minho gets the text at work, his heart deflates a little. He’s grumpy for the rest of the shift, and his co-workers assume it’s simply because he had someone cancel on him. Minho doesn’t like to admit it, but he was really looking forward to working out with Jisung that week.
Jisung doesn’t do much better at home. He tells himself that the reason he’s so sad about cancelling is due to his want to work out, but really he’s just missing Minho (and possibly a few of his touches).
By Thursday Jisung is starting to feel normal again, and he trusts himself enough to go to work without keeling over or coughing on someone.
When he strolls in 4 minutes late to his shift, Hyunjin is already pointing at the stack of books that probably have to go back on shelves. Jisung hates shelf stacking, he always finds himself too short to reach the top shelf and has to drag around the ugly step ladder wherever he goes. He was 4 minutes late though, and he knows how much Hyunjin hates people who are even a few minutes late, so he knows better than to argue and try to get on the tills.
When he makes it to the back of the bookshop, where all the dusty history books lie he’s pretty sure his arms might fall off. He’d forgotten his step ladder back in the Romcom section, and is desperately reaching for one of the higher shelves.
That is, until two hands lay on his exposed waist from where his top is riding up. Jisung contemplates screaming right there and then, but he’s only able to let out a tiny squeak before the mystery hands speak.
“I’ve always been so envious of your waist. Even your little tummy looks good with it.”
Jisung relaxes at the sound of Minho’s voice. He turns around, Minho's hands continuing to rest on his waist. He’s got a half mind to slap the smirk off his face, especially after the slightly backhanded compliment he just received.
“I’m serious. It’s so tiny my fingertips are almost touching.” Minho giggles.
And sure enough, if Jisung focuses on Minho’s hands (like he already has been) he can feel where Minho’s fingers feel like they could almost touch. If Jisungs face wasn’t already on fire, it definitely is now. He can feel that way it heats up all the way to his ears, and he’s sure Minho can see it as well.
“Are you feeling better? I hope you’re in tomorrow, I missed you Tuesday.” Minho asks, and he looks genuinely sad and worried. Once Jisung’s brain allows him to focus on the questions instead of Minho’s fingertips on his waist, he assures Minho that he’ll definitely be back at the gym. The way Minho’s face lights up almost kills Jisung, his heart unable to handle quite how cute he is.
They talk for a while about how Jisung’s classes are going and Minho’s cats. Jisung thinks he could listen to Minho talk forever, about anything. His hands have migrated to rest on Minho’s biceps, whose hands still lay lightly around his waist. He’s ready to completely forget about work all together and talk about nothing important for eternity, but Hyunjin makes his way around the corner, huffy with eyebrows knit together in frustration.
“I know I shouldn’t have told you where Jisung was. Leave my employee alone and let him finish stacking the shelves like he should’ve done 30 minutes ago.” That last bit was mainly pointed at Jisung, making the latter cower away and slip out of Minho’s hold.
“I’ll have it done in 10! Sorry Hyunjin.” Jisung gives him his biggest puppy dog eyes and innocent smile, hoping to reconcile the damaged manager-employee relationship.
All he gets back however, is an eye roll and a middle finger, telling him to hurry the fuck up.
As Hyunjin walks off, probably to scold some more employees who are slacking, Minho looks back at Jisung sheepishly and gives him a small smile.
“Sorry for getting you in trouble.” He whispers, “I’ll go, see you on Friday Sungie.”
If the nickname doesn’t kill Jisung, the small kiss on the cheek Minho gives him probably will. Minho knocks his hand as he walks away, giving Jisung a small smirk before he leaves Jisung in the aisle, wide eyed and screaming mentally.
Jisung could probably explode from the way his heart is beating in his chest, but also pop a boner.
When Jisung arrives at the gym on Friday, Minho isn’t there waiting for him at the front desk. Instead another instructor explains to Jisung that he’s finishing up with another client and that Jisung should go get changed to wait in the main gym area.
When Jisung finally trudges out of the changing rooms, the sun has pretty much set. Apart from Minho, Minho's other client and Jisung, there’s really no one there. Jisung situates himself on one of the benches, pretending to start stretching when he’s really just watching the two men workout.
He really shouldn’t be jealous. Minho hasn’t even acknowledged Jisung is in the room, and not only is Minho just doing his job, but he also isn’t nearly as touchy as he is when he is with Jisung. But Jisung can’t help it, the guy who he’s working out with is buff in all the right places, and Minho won’t stop giggling along with everything the guy is saying.
Jisung goes unnoticed for a good 10 minutes, until they’re cooling down and Minho meets his gaze. He gives Jisung a small smirk, before going back to instructing the other guy on stretches. It continues like it had been, except Minho continues to make eye contact with Jisung whenever he’s facing in that direction, a smirk glued to his face. After not too long, Minho dismisses the other client to the changing rooms.
“Good workout today Chan! Your arms are getting insane man.” Minho giggles, giving him a couple of squeezes on the bicep before pushing him towards the showers. When he turns back around to Jisung, he’s got a big smile on his face, inviting Jisung to start warming up with him. “We’re gonna start with your legs today, and then move onto arms. Is that okay?”
Jisung gives him a small nod, and they almost instantly fall back into a familiar rhythm. It feels the same, but there's a layer of tension that didn’t seem to be there before, or at least that strong before. They don’t stop making eye contact with each other in the mirror, and Minho’s touches have almost doubled. He’s getting bolder too, leaving wandering hands on his waist moments too many to be casual.
“Lift it with your thighs, not your lower back… You should feel it here.” Minho explains, before wrapping a hand around both Jisungs thighs and squeezing. Jisung has to stop himself before he lets out an embarrassing sound, just nodding and trying to keep focus on the exercise and not on Minho's hands.
Jisung hurries a look around the room, trying to distract him by watching members of staff and other gym-goers filtering out of the gym. “Looks like we’re gonna be the only ones left…” Minho giggles, “I’m the member of staff locking up the gym tonight.”
Jisung almost drops the weights on his foot at that. “Oh right, cool.” is the only sentence his brain can form at that point, trying to focus back on not letting the weights crush his toes. Minho giggles a little again, before going straight back into coaching Jisung. If he was handsy when there were other people at the gym, being on their own only made him more bold. Jisung is doing exercises he’s done multiple times before, but Minho is right there squeezing various muscles and overly praising him on posture.
“Let’s take a little break, and then start on your arms okay?” Minho asks, putting the weights they had been using back into place.
Jisung confirms with a small “yeah, sure,” before moving back to one of the benches and leaning back against the glass. He watches Minho make his way out towards the main desk, before letting his eyes wander up towards the ceiling. The bright flashing red of security cameras catches his attention before he completely zones out listening to Minho clicking away on one of the computers.
He doesn’t even catch the red light turning off completely.
Jisung only comes back too when he hears the jingling of keys, opening his eyes only enough to see Minho locking up the front and making his way back into the main part of the gym.
“We’re the last people left, so it’s probably best I lock the main doors while no ones at the front desk.”
Sure. For security. Jisung can see the little smirk finding its way onto Minho’s face. He might be confident, but he definitely isn’t secretive about it.
When they get back to working out, much to Jisung’s disappointment, his brain has chosen this moment to become overly fixated on Minho's arms. He must’ve taken off the jumper he was wearing earlier, because now his muscles are out in HD right in front of Jisung’s face as he adjusts weights. Jisung isn’t exactly sly with his staring either, a bit too obvious that Minho catches on almost immediately.
Minho isn’t doing much better. Every time Jisung’s shirt rides up just slightly, he gets a glimpse of his tiny waist. When they walk to new equipment, Minho can’t seem to take his eyes off his ass sticking out in his awful lime green shorts. They really are gross, but somehow Jisung pulls them off, Minho thinks.
When Jisung’s top rides up just a little higher, allowing Minho to get a clear look at his waist, he can’t help but complement it.
“Does your waist get smaller every time I see you? It’s incredible.” He giggles, still oogling where the shirt is still crumpled above his tummy. Jisung is sure he’s beet red right now, but is very adamant on not letting just Minho have all the fun.
“Yeah? Your arms seem to get bigger every time we see each other too, I bet you could lift me so easily.” There’s a glint of mischief as Jisung finishes his sentence, and the effect of Minho is almost immediate. His face flares up to match Jisung’s and he can’t help stutter a little from Jisung’s obvious implications.
“You can touch, if you want. I always see you staring at them whenever we workout.” Minho grins.
Jisung curses to himself for being quite so obvious with his looking, but can’t help his wandering hands from grabbing at Minho’s arm softly, bringing it down to where he’s leaning on the equipment. That causes Minho to fall forward slightly, chest directly in front of Jisung’s face. If there was anything that would get Jisung to tear his attention away from Minho’s arms, it’d be his chest.
He slowly stops his squeezing motions on Minho’s arm, eyes now fixated on the sight in front of him. He doesn’t even care if he’s being too obvious at this point, and wouldn’t miss this opportunity to stare at his chest for the world.
“Y-You,” Minho starts, causing Jisung to look up at him innocently, “you can touch there too, if you want. For research purposes.”
Jisung snorts at that, enjoying the sight of Minho being flustered. “Yeah, sure. Research purposes.”
Minho is maintaining eye contact well. That is, until Jisungs hands find their way to his chest and give it a slight squeeze. Jisung learns that he’s very responsive, from the way he almost instantly gasps and whips his head away, staring at the floor next to them.
Jisung can’t help but want to squeeze again, chasing the pretty noise Minho had just let out. When he does it again, Minho whips his head around from where he was staring at the floor to stare at Jisung again. He’s flushed, bottom lip taught between his teeth and Jisung knows they’ve crossed too many lines now for either of them to go back.
They lean in almost simultaneously, noses butting together and forcing them to part. They groan in unison, but groans seem to turn into giggles and they’re trying again, this time with a little more patience.
There’s no sparks when their lips meet, but Jisung is pretty sure his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, flailing them uselessly as Minho deepens the kiss, leaning in closer till Jisung is practically trapped under him. A piece of equipment is digging uncomfortably into his back, but there’s not much he can focus on other than Minho's lips on his. Jisung feels drunk on it.
Jisung pushes Minho away slightly, so he can stand up and move them to the closest wall- or mirror- and push Minho up against it.
Minho’s back collides with the glass, not wasting any time before invading each other's space again and making out till Jisung’s stomach begins to swirl gently with an overriding feeling of want. They part only for a moment, resting their foreheads together and panting into each other's mouth.
“Do you want to… continue?” Minho asks cautiously, eying the more than obvious bulge that’s started to make itself apparent Jisung’s awful lime green shorts.
Jisung responds by kissing all over Minho’s face, cupping his cheeks to keep him still as he ensures to reach every part of his skin. “What about the cameras?” Jisung asks, moving back slightly to look at Minho properly.
“What do you think I was doing during our little ‘break’?” Minho giggles, and Jisung raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Oh? So you were planning this the entire time? We could’ve just skipped the leg workouts and gone straight to the fucking if that’s all you were thinking about.” Jisung half complains, half teases, diving into Minho’s neck and starting to kiss his way down to visible collarbones.
“Skip the leg workouts? Your stick thighs can’t afford that.” Minho teases, only half regretting it when Jisung bites in retaliation, right where his neck meets his shoulder. He soothes the area with his tongue after- a half assed apology for biting.
Jisung looks up at Minho through eyelashes, “Marks?” he asks tentatively, eyeing Minho’s neck like he wanted to devour it. Minho wants to laugh, because he can already see the red patch that’s blooming from where Jisung had bitten him, sure to leave a mark. He can’t laugh though, too infatuated at the way Jisung looks up at him to even let out a small chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah okay. Just not too visible.”
Jisung almost instantly lights up, running his hands carefully under Minho’s tshirt to aid him in lifting it up, throwing it off to the side somewhere. He gives Minho a quick peck on the lips, before moving back down and latching onto one of his collarbones, leaving purple splotches as he makes his way down between Minho’s pecs.
Minho can feel his dick straining, working hard to keep his composure for a little longer. He wants nothing more than to grab a handful of hair and push Jisung down to his crotch, but he doesn’t want to rush the poor boy, who seems to be having a field day painting Minho’s torso in different hues of purple and red.
When he seems satisfied with his work, Jisung seems to almost naturally lower to his knees, bumping his head with Minho’s crotch on the way down. He looks up with a grin when Minho reacts with a grunt.
“Can I? I’ve been told I’m good with my mouth.” Jisung grins, far too cocky for his own good. But, who is Minho to turn down such an offer?
“Go ahead baby,” Minho grins at the way a small flush works its way over Jisungs cheeks, “Why don’t you prove it to me?”
Jisung catches a whimper before it can escape out his mouth, hoping to keep at least some of his composure considering that they’ve only really been kissing. He makes quick work of the knot at the front of Minho’s shorts, almost giving himself rope burn from how fast he unties the string and tugs down his shorts to pool around his feet.
He practically instantly dives into Minho’s crotch, nosing against where his dick lays in his underwear and giving it tentative licks through the fabric. He can tell that Minho is trying to not react too much, he can hear the way his noises are muffled against his hand. When he looks up, Minho's cheeks are visibly red and he has his knuckles stuffed in his mouth, a desperate attempt at keeping quiet.
Jisung giggles, pulling at Minho’s arm to get his hand to fall down and giving his dick another soft kiss, right where he supposes the tip must be and just in time to catch the prettiest gasp falling out of his mouth.
“I wanna hear you.” Jisung practically whispers, holding Minho’s arms to his sides with his own. Now he has no hands free, he resorts to pulling down the fabric of Minho’s underwear just enough to let his dick spring out. It almost gets him in the eye, but Minho doesn’t have any time to apologise before Jisung is taking him into his mouth almost in one go.
Minho can feel the way his throat constricts around his dick, the slight gag Jisung lets out for being too cocky with his skills. Minho lets him adjust, feeling him scrape his teeth slightly against the head as he readjusts his mouth. He lets out a little hiss, arms straining where Jisung has them pinned against his sides.
“No teeth, you little heathen.”
Jisung giggles, and Minho would think that it sounded cute if it didn’t send small vibrations up the length of his dick, causing him to shudder slightly.
Nothing, however, could’ve prepared him for when Jisung started moving.
It was sloppy, drool running down the younger’s chin within a matter of minutes and small chokes when the head reached the back of his throat. It was messy and Jisungs technique really didn’t justify his confidence, but Minho was already so close just watching the view. A soft flush had painted Jisungs cheeks and small streams of tears were accompanying the pink.
Minho could probably stare at the sight forever, if only he could last that long.
“Shit, Jisung I’m gonna come if you keep going, get off.” Minho worries, breaking one of his hands free to grab at Jisung’s hair in an attempt to pull him off.
However, Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the task at hand, practically creating a vacuum seal to stay attached to Minho's dick. When Minho tries to pull harder on his hair, he’s only met with a low groan.
“Jisung, Jisung, ah-” Minho repeats, in a sort of mantra as he starts to use his grip on Jisung’s hair as a way to fuck into his mouth even deeper.
It only takes him a couple thrusts before he was spilling into Jisungs mouth, fucking his face through it as he slowly comes down from his high and releases Jisungs hair.
Jisung pulls off, mouth shut tight as he pushes himself off the floor, a little shaky and rises to face Minho again.
“I’m so sorry, fuck I’ll get you a tissue-” Minho could hardly make it one step before Jisung was grabbing him again, pushing him back against the mirror and connecting their lips once more.
Minho should be disgusted by the way he can taste himself on Jisung’s tongue, but he finds himself moaning loudly into the kiss, accepting it as Jisung pushes himself impossibly closer. Minho can already feel his lower region becoming interested again, probably spurred on by Jisung’s obvious bulge pressing into his thigh.
“Let me- let me help you.” Minho manages out between feral kisses from Jisung, finding it hard to even make a sentence with the onslaught of lips and tongue. His hand naturally finds its way to the front of Jisungs shorts, pressing down slightly.
The pretty noise that Jisung lets out is something Minho thinks he could listen to on repeat and never get bored of. Another press, another pretty sound and Minho is pretty sure he’s addicted.
Jisung lets his head land on Minho’s shoulder, breathing so heavily Minho can feel it on his neck. His knees buckle at a particularly harsh squeeze from Minho, grasping onto his waist for any type of support.
“Floor- sit down baby.” Minho reasons, peeling Jisung off his front to help him sit down on the ground and moving away slightly.
Jisung whines at this, desperately trying to grab for him again, legs crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Minho can only giggle, moving around to sit himself behind Jisung and maneuvering him between his legs, both facing towards the mirror.
He almost instantly melts into Minho, back pressed firmly against Minho’s chest as he tries to shimmy even closer- if that’s possible. Minho can’t stop himself from giggling again.
When he trains his gaze towards the mirror in front of him, Jisung’s glossy stare is what he sees first. As he lets his eyes rake down the view in front of him, he meets bitten red lips and a heaving chest, a shirt that's ridden up slightly to reveal the cutest of tummies and a less cute bulge making itself noticeable through his shorts.
“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair you’ve still got all these clothes on? What a waste of a pretty body if I’m not even allowed to look at it.”
Jisung lets out a small whine at that, nodding in agreement and lifting his arms when Minho starts to shift his shirt up and off of him.
Minho didn’t know where to look first, where to touch first. Jisung’s small waist looks inviting, and Minho wants nothing more than to completely mark up his entire torso, starting at the slender neck all the way down to the soft stomach that lays at the bottom.
Another time, however, because he’s sure Jisung will surely explode if he makes him wait any longer. He can feel the way he’s slightly shaking against his chest, scrambling to grab at any part of Minho, hands eventually gripping his thighs.
“Minho,” Jisung whimpers, “do something. Please do something.”
Minho nods, hooking his chin over Jisung’s shoulder to get a better look at where his hands are slowly pushing down his shorts and underwear, just enough for the head of his dick to appear out the top. It’s red and leaking, precum staining the fabric and spreading across Jisung’s tummy.
Minho swipes a finger across the top, collecting the liquid sticking there and rolling it around the tips of his fingers before pushing his hand down and gripping Jisung fully.
Jisung lets out an almost scream at the new-found pleasure, bucking his hips up in response. Minho lets him, watching as his eyes flutter shut and his hips thrust at their own accord, sloppy and uncalculated.
He can’t stop himself, so Minho is quickly attaching himself to Jisungs neck, biting down harshly and attempting to still focus on the way Jisungs dick feels in his hand. He’s not going to last long, if the way his hips stutter at any movement from Minho’s hand are anything to go by.
“Be good, cum for me princess.”
Minho doesn’t miss the way Jisungs eyes roll back almost instantly, hips stuttering one last time before he releases all over his torso, so hard some of it lands near his collarbone. His hands are scrambling all over and his face is flushed to a bright pink, spit coating his chin but he’s still as beautiful as he normally is.
When Jisung slowly comes down from his high, the only thing he can focus on is the pressure on his lower back.
“Did you get hard again?”
And if they fucked in front of the mirrors that was no one's business but their own. If Minho rode Jisungs dick until he was sure he’d be able to skip leg day for a week, that was between them, and if Jisung came to the sound of Minho calling him princess once more, that was something Jisung could never let him share with anyone. Even if Minho thought it was the cutest thing ever.
In a messy pile on the gym floor, Jisung confesses, out of breath and a little sleepy. Minho kisses him softly in return, and that’s enough of an answer for Jisung.
Needless to say, Jisung needed a new personal trainer after this. Needed to go to a whole new gym all together, because if watching Minho workout without pouncing was hard before, it was even harder now knowing what he sounded like when he fucked.