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Minho is tired of being single. He knows he’s picky as hell and that’s why his current string of first dates keep going nowhere. The last person he fucked was his friend Seonghwa, who is an amazing lay and a wonderful person and unbelievably hot, but is also aromantic and not interested in dating anyone, ever.
The reality is that Minho doesn’t really know how to date. He’s fallen from one relationship to the next since he was in middle school, accumulating lists of things he does and doesn’t like, as well as a sizable library of relationship don’ts, but he’s never actually learned how to pursue someone he’s interested in. Every time a relationship has ended and he's ready for another, someone has always been right there, and he’s just gone with it. Until the last few months, that is. He’s not even looking for a date anymore, just a fuck to tide him over until his dry spell ends.
He’s explaining this to his friend Jisung after soccer practice, trying not to feel too sorry for himself. Minho had waited until they were the only ones left in the locker room so he could ask if Jisung knew anyone to hook him up with. Jisung is one of those people who only seems to have two settings: 0 or 100. He makes Minho laugh, and he doesn’t gossip as much as some of the other guys.
“If you’re that hard up,” Jisung says, “I’d be happy to give you a hand.”
This does not make Minho laugh. “Fuck off—I’m not looking for a handout,” he scowls.
“I’m not offering a handout,” Jisung says. “I haven’t gotten my dick wet in a while, and you’re fucking hot and looking for something, so why not?”
“Bold assumptions about whose dick would be getting wet,” Minho says, barely able to keep up with the turn their conversation has taken.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Jisung says, leaning against the lockers in what is an endearingly obvious attempt to look cool. “I am down for all positions. I do not discriminate.” He gestures emphatically at his crotch with both hands. “This junk swings any way you want.”
“Have you ever actually had sex?” Minho asks.
“Hah hah,” Jisung says sarcastically. “Many have doubted and all but one have been proven wrong.”
“Um,” Minho says, feeling like his brain cells are actively abandoning him the more Jisung talks. “I’m not having sex in the locker room,” he blurts out and then wonders why.
“A wise decision,” Jisung says. “I myself have never understood the appeal of sexy times outside of a bedroom setting. It’s possible I was scarred by walking in on Woosan one too many times.”
“Um,” Minho says again. He’s known Jisung for two years now and none of this is out of character, but he feels strangely off-balance. They’re in the locker room talking about maybe hooking up. They’re fully clothed. At best, this is flirting. Not even foreplay. So why the hell is he so flustered?
“Um?” Jisung asks expectantly.
“Do you like it when people try to fuck your smart mouth closed?”
“Oh yeah,” Jisung says, shivering in what looks like genuine arousal. “I’m the worst. If you actually want to fuck, we should talk about boundaries and safe words and all that, because I am not kidding you–I am completely out of control. Like, I’ve had to reassure dudes that it’s okay that they can’t shut me up. I feel bad about that, because everyone should be having fun, right? And I’m really the one who should be crying in that situation, right? My last boyfriend…”
Minho’s last nerve gives out on him and he grabs Jisung’s shirt, pulls him close, and smashes their lips together. He genuinely doesn’t know how much of it is arousal and how much is a desperate attempt to get Jisung to stop talking, but both are definitely present. Minho feels like they’re back on even footing with his tongue in Jisung’s mouth, and the younger responds enthusiastically.
“Has no one just gagged you?” Minho gasps when they break apart to breathe. Jisung’s lips turn down at the corners, and he shrugs. He has beautiful lips, Minho observes, a perfect Cupid’s bow over a full lower lip that felt so good against his mouth.
“I can still be a pain in the ass with a gag in,” Jisung says, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I… I wasn’t…” Minho stammers, unable to believe that he’s actually stammering. He kisses Jisung again, just so he doesn’t have to come up with a coherent response, then reaches down and grabs Jisung’s ass, and fuck, he’s got a great ass. Why has he never considered Jisung in a sexual or romantic context before?
Jisung can be a lot, but he’s also hot, and funny, and a genuinely nice person, and a loyal friend. He’s one of the most talented athletes Minho has ever met—if you put a gun to his head and forced Minho to cut either Chris Bang or Han Jisung from the soccer team, he’d probably have to flip a coin and then hide in a hole and cry.
Jisung is also on his way to becoming valedictorian of his class, and that kind of pisses Minho off. No one should be allowed to be that good at every single fucking thing.
The door swings open right as Jisung groans and rolls his hips into Minho’s. Minho can hear Wooyoung and Changbin bickering a second before they turn the corner, but it’s far too late to do anything about it.
“Hey, woah, what?” Changbin says, spinning around to put his back to them as soon as he sees Minho and Jisung wrapped around each other. Wooyoung gives them a good once over as they step quickly apart, and smirks insufferably.
“Hey guys!” he chirps. “Whatcha doing?”
“Fuck off,” Minho says, prompting a snort from Changbin, who decides it’s safe to turn around and does so.
“Hey guys!” Jisung says in an extremely good imitation of Wooyoung. “What’s up?” His attitude isn’t that different from when they were alone, but something tells Minho that the younger boy is embarrassed and trying to hide it.
“This, apparently,” Changbin says, gesturing between Minho and Jisung. Jisung makes a mock offended face and is about to respond but Minho decides to cut this off quickly.
“I’ve been wanting a good fuck, and Jisung volunteered,” he says in his best bland voice. Changbin blinks, and Wooyoung collapses in a fit of hyena-like laughter. Minho grabs his bag and heads towards the door, stopping part way to look back at an astonished Jisung. “Are you coming?” he asks impatiently.
“I certainly hope so,” Jisung says, clearing his throat, grabbing his bag, and smiling smugly at their teammates. Minho wants to punch him, but he has to respect such a perfect parting shot, so he keeps his mouth shut until Jisung pushes out the door ahead of him. Minho tilts his head and makes an innocent face at their friends before following.
Minho meets Jisung’s eyes once they’re outside and laughs harder than he has in a long time.
“Has no one ever told you…”
“Yes,” Jisung says, smiling, but there’s a rare touch of irritation in his voice that makes the laughter dry up in Minho’s throat. “Yes, they have, and if you really think I’m just waiting for someone to point it out to me so I can be normal, then fuck you.”
Minho raises his eyebrows and quirks his lips. “Fair,” he says.
“Besides,” Jisung says with a grin, “if you want this,” as he gestures at his crotch with a one-handed version of his earlier gesture, “you’ve got to take this,” as he flitters his hand around his head.
“That's the second time you’ve indicated that you’ve got something worth my time going on down there,” Minho says. “You top?” He thinks they might have covered this already, but he’s still trying the process the fact that Jisung has volunteered to have sex with him, and he’s maybe said yes?
“I’ll do whatever you want, baby,” Jisung says in a voice that should be skeevy but pushes some buttons Minho didn’t know he had. They’re almost to the end of the lawn that separates the athletic buildings from the rest of campus where the sidewalk curves to avoid the bushes and small trees lining the field. They’d stayed long enough in the locker room that there’s hardly anyone in sight, and no one nearby.
“Okay,” Minho says, grabbing Jisung’s arm and pulling him towards the trees. He tosses his bag onto the grass under the low-hanging canopy and sits on the shallow slope. They’re far enough under the trees that they aren't fully in the open, but it certainly isn’t a private space. Minho wonders what’s gotten into him, but immediately realizes that this is a ridiculous question because obviously Jisung is what’s gotten into him.
Jisung, who is still standing and looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Minho pats the grass next to him. “Come on, baby,” Minho says. “I won’t bite until we talk about it.” For a moment, Jisung looks like a baby squirrel about to be hit by a truck, but he quickly pulls himself together and there’s no way he’s faking the fire in his eyes.
“Oh baby,” Jisung says quietly as he folds himself onto his knees in front of Minho, his voice shaking ever so slightly. It’s only the second time that afternoon that Minho has heard anything other than absolute confidence in his voice.
“Look, we fucked with them good,” Minho says, taking Jisung’s delightful cheeks in his hands. “That was hilarious. But we don’t have to…”
“I want to have sex with you,” Jisung says, cutting him off. “I’m pretty sure you want to have sex with me. So what’s your hang up? If all you want is sex, why don’t you just hook up after one of those first dates you were complaining about?”
“I…” Minho stammers. “Nothing is…” He sighs and decides to tell the truth. “I’m tired of hook-ups. Half the time I end up falling for them,” he says, clenching his jaw and looking at the ground. “I’m not good at casual, and I scare people away.”
“Huh,” Jisung says. “That sucks. You fake not giving a fuck pretty well.” Minho doesn’t have time to recover before Jisung is leaning in close and cupping his cheek. “I really do like you,” he says, leaning forward cautiously and pressing his lips against Minho’s.
Jisung has amazing lips, Minho’s brain points out helpfully for the second time that afternoon. It’s not that Minho has never noticed this before, but he’d never seriously thought about what they would feel like pressed against his own. It turns out that they feel really good, and once again Minho struggles to regain the upper hand.
Jisung pushes him onto the ground, his hands and torso and legs pressing firm and confident against Minho’s body, and Minho reconsiders trying to regain the upper hand after all.
“Fuck,” Minho gasps involuntarily, rolling his hips against Jisung’s and tangling his fingers in the other’s hair.
“Fuck, stop,” Jisung says, collapsing across Minho’s body and gasping for breath. Minho does his best to pull himself together.
“What is it?” Minho asks.
“I want you,” Jisung says. “But I’m not sure about you wanting me. I want to let you fuck me so hard and so… uhhhhgg!” He rolls off of Minho onto the grass and looks Minho in the eyes. “I’ve never had sex with someone who wasn’t completely into it, and I can’t decide if you’re completely into it or not.”
“I am completely into having sex with you, Han Jisung,” Minho says. He considers saying more but decides he’s said all he needs to. Jisung seems satisfied, anyhow, and leans back in to burrow his mouth into the junction of Minho’s shoulders and neck.
“So, what are you doing right now?” Jisung asks between sucking hickies into Minho’s neck.
“Skipping class to have sex,” Minho says. “Ideally. But we should talk first.”
“Yes,” Jisung says, pulling back onto his knees so they’re not touching.
“Okay,” Minho says, missing the feel of the other’s body immediately. Minho sits up and runs his hands through his hair. Jisung’s eyes follow his hands hungrily before snapping back to Minho’s face.
“Okay,” Jisung echoes. They look at each other for a moment. “Okay,” Jisung breaks the silence. Minho has observed over the last two years that silence makes the younger boy intensely uncomfortable. “If you just want a quick bang I’m cool with that. I actually can tone this down. But we’ve known each other long enough that I’d be down for the kinky shit if you are.”
“Um,” Minho says. Making out had grounded him a little but now his head is spinning again. “What kind of kinky shit?”
Jisung grins. “You try to shut me up,” he says. “I try to ruin your entire week.”
“How can I possibly make you shut up?”
“Well, I’d prefer you not pee on me or mess up my face or do anything that might leave a scar. Other than that…” Jisung shrugs. “Be creative.”
“I feel like I need time to prepare,” Minho says.
Jisung laughs. “What happened to bold words?”
“Safeword?”
“Red. Yellow if I need a break. Or if you need a break.”
“Do you think I’m going to need a break?”
“Maybe,” Jisung says, eyes wide and voice slightly more serious than before. “You have to promise to tap out if you need to.”
“I promise,” Minho says, feeling out of his depth.
“Good,” Jisung says firmly. “So what’s your deal? No go’s? Definitely go’s?”
“I honestly haven’t thought about it that much,” Minho says. “I usually just make out for a while and then we decide who tops and go for it.” He pauses, wondering how his perfectly satisfying sex life suddenly sounded so… lame?
“Good times,” Jisung says seriously. “I like all of that. Just with more spanking. And biting. And…”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with being hurt,” Minho cuts him off. “Or hurting anyone.”
Jisung nods. “Well, it’s good to start slow. The face is tricky. Just stay away from the face and throat at first. Face-grabbies are fine but being slapped can give you a black eye, and then you have to spend a half hour putting on makeup every morning or look like a raccoon for a week. And throat-grabbies can go bad fast, do not mess around with that shit until you know what you’re doing. Ass and hips and thighs are good places to start - they’re nice and fleshy and it’s hard to do much serious damage if you’re just using your hand. Which I also recommend your first couple of times. Improvised spanking implements is a 300s-level course. You want to keep a little focus in case someone needs a break. Getting carried away is fun until it isn’t.”
“This is not how I expected my day to go,” Minho says, trying to gather what’s left of his wits after the verbal carpet bombing he just received.
Jisung laughs. “I can just give you a blow job,” he says. He glances around. “I’m not really into public stuff though, so I’d still want to go to one of our rooms. I don’t know what Seungmin is up to but I can text him not to come back to the room for a while.”
“I have a single,” Minho says.
“Great!” Jisung pops to his feet and offers Minho a hand up. “Why don’t we head over there–you can get me something to snack on if you don’t have anything in your room, and you can decide how you want this to go. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.” He glances sideways at Minho. “You won’t hurt my feelings, will you?”
Minho genuinely can’t tell if he’s kidding or not. “What if it shuts you up?”
“It’s not off the table, but I might call it pretty quick. It depends on where my head’s at.” They walk in silence for about 15 seconds before Jisung starts talking about how practice went. It’s a relief to be able to tune him out for a minute and think. Minho has never thought of himself as vanilla, but now he’s second guessing himself.
“It’s okay if you fall in love with me,” Jisung says.
“What?!” Minho chokes and almost trips over his own feet.
“You said you fall too easily,” Jisung says with a smug grin. “Maybe you fall for me, maybe you don’t. I’m good either way. I just need you to know that I haven’t been pining over you or whatever. Sure, I had a crush on you during my first semester, but you were clearly not interested, so I moved on. Maybe I think about you sometimes while I’m jerking off, but I think about a lot of people while I’m jerking off. I mean, have you seen our friends? Chris is allergic to shirts that cover his abs, and Hyunjin always looks like he’s in a fucking shampoo commercial. Have you ever noticed that Lix has freckles on his ass?”
“I had no idea you had a crush on me,” Minho says, hoping to derail Jisung from a complete inventory of their teammates’ fuckable qualities.
“Really?” Jisung asks. He laughs but Minho thinks he hears a little uncertainty under the bluster. “I thought I was pretty obvious, but I’m actually a really bad judge of that kind of thing, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I probably should have said ‘hey, sexy guy, I think you’re sexy, let’s buy a house in Portland.’ Ooh, I want Starbucks.”
Minho stands frozen for a moment, mouthing the word “Portland,” before picking his jaw up off the ground and following the younger boy towards the building with the mermaid sign. He decides that he will give himself until they’ve gotten their drinks to pull his shit together or else he’s going to apologize to Jisung and go back to his room—alone—to jerk off while trying to avoid thinking about Felix Lee’s ass freckles, because of course he’s noticed them in the locker room—they’re adorable.
“Hey,” Jisung says as Minho slides into line next to him. Minho glances at Jisung’s pleased smile and wide, deceptively-innocent doe eyes, and instantly makes up his mind. Minho isn’t sure where this is going but he doesn’t want to pass it up either way.
“Hey,” Minho says, bumping Jisung with his hip before slipping his arm around Jisung’s waist. There’s only one person in front of them in line so Minho makes the best of the time they have. He leans in close to Jisung’s ear and whispers, “It’s okay if you fall in love with me, too.” Jisung shudders but then it’s their turn to give their order.
“I’d like a short light roast, room for cream, thanks,” Jisung says, then looks at Minho expectantly. Minho orders an ice tea and puts up absolutely no resistance to Jisung paying. “Aren’t we supposed to argue over who pays?” Jisung asks as they wait for their order to be called. Jisung links his arm around Minho’s waist so that they look like the most adorable couple in the world. They should probably put their hands in each other’s back pockets.
“Sounds like a waste of energy,” Minho says. “If you want to pay, I’m not going to stop you.”
“Cute,” Jisung says. Minho chuckles, and then their drinks are up.
“Counteroffer,” Minho says as Jisung ruins his coffee with cream and two packets of the yellow sweetener. “Your whole kinky battle royale situation sounds like fun, but I want a nap and a good meal first. So, instead of that, how about you give me D/s 101? You don’t seem shy about asking for what you want, so you tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Jisung chokes but recovers quicker than Minho did earlier. “Anything?” he asks as they leave the building and Minho directs them towards his dorm.
“Within previously established parameters,” Minho replies.
“Fuck,” Jisung says, falling silent for a moment. “Okay.” Apparently thinking about Minho’s proposal keeps Jisung quiet until they reach the door to Minho’s dorm, or maybe it’s just that he can’t talk and chug coffee at the same time. There isn’t a lot of on-campus housing for upper-level students, but this is one of the few, and nicer, exceptions. There are only two floors of singles and two-person suites around a small central courtyard. Minho’s room is near the corner of the first floor and would have a decent view if he hadn’t tacked a rainbow flag over the window and then covered it in pictures of his cats. Jisung tosses his empty cup into a trash can in the hall and follows Minho inside.
“Nice,” Jisung says, closing the door and leaning against it with his arms crossed.
Minho toes off his shoes and sits at his desk, setting his drink down next to his laptop. “Why would I want to buy a house in Portland?”
Jisung stares blankly at him for a moment and then laughs. “Have you been to Portland?” he asks. “I’d love to live there. But it’s from a song from my favorite TV show.”
“Which show?”
“Crazy Ex-Girlfriend,” Jisung says. Minho hasn’t heard of it and shakes his head. “It was on the CW, got terrible ratings but picked up some traction online. The main character is a lawyer with an undiagnosed personality disorder who’s in love with an Asian-American dude-bro and copes by imagining she’s living in a musical. It’s amazing. I can and will show you clips.”
“That’s… okay,” Minho says. “I can see the appeal. What now?”
“Okay,” Jisung repeats, clearing his throat. “So, a lot of this is about, like, the energy between the partners. You’re in charge, but you have to prove it. I’m a brat, so I’m going to challenge you.”
“How do I do that without hurting your feelings?”
“Huh,” Jisung frowns. “Because it’s about you more than me. It’s less the words and more the attitude. Proving you’re in charge is different from actively breaking me.”
“And breaking you is fun?” Minho raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Jisung says. “It’s intense but it’s also kind of… therapeutic maybe? Just trust me, I’ll tell you if you’re going too far.” He shrugs. “So, are you just going to sit there, or are you going to fuck me?”
”I don’t know, are you going to shut up long enough to get fucked?” Minho asks, half amused, half serious.
Jisung laughs. “Not bad, but I’ve heard kindergarten teachers sound meaner.”
“I don’t think even a kindergarten teacher could shut you up,” Minho says coolly.
“Definitely better,” Jisung smirks.
Minho decides that he’s had enough of them taking potshots at each other from a distance, so he stands up and crowds into Jisung’s space, backing him against the door. Minho puts his hand on the wall next to Jisung’s head a little harder than necessary, narrows his eyes, and tilts his head like Jisung is an animal in the zoo, their faces only inches apart.
“The wall slam was a nice touch,” Jisung says, licking his lips. “Classic.” Minho blinks and doesn’t respond. Jisung squirms and Minho feels a little spark of triumph. “I thought we were getting down to it,” Jisung says.
“You’re not good with silence,” Minho says. “It makes you uncomfortable.”
Jisung shivers. “Okay, good instincts there. Getting a little personal, but I like it.”
“Take off your clothes,” Minho says calmly.
Jisung laughs. “I don’t think…”
“I didn’t tell you to think,” Minho says, not changing his tone or expression at all. “I told you to take your clothes off.”
Jisung folds his arms across his chest and sniffs. Minho doesn’t move, and it’s not more than a few seconds before Jisung is visibly squirming.
“Come on, baby,” Jisung says, reaching forward to fiddle with the top button of Minho’s cardigan. Minho slaps his hand away but otherwise doesn’t react. Jisung pouts. Minho stares. “Fuck,” Jisung says, sounding irritated but also amused. “I can’t believe you’ve never Dommed before,” he says as he shrugs off his overshirt. “You’re fucking scary, you know that?”
Jisung pulls his t-shirt over his head and Minho can’t resist giving the younger’s toned chest an appreciative once-over. He’s seen all of his teammates in various stages of undress, but context is everything. Jisung tends to wear baggy clothes that hide his body, but as much as he jokes about how lazy he is, he spends as much time in the gym as any of them.
“Like what you see?” Jisung asks, smirking as he unzips his jeans, pushes them to the floor, and kicks them off. His hands pause at the waistband of his boxers. “I’m going easy on you because you’re new to this,” he says. “Don’t expect me to be this easy next time.”
Minho is confident that Jisung can’t see past his poker face, but something definitely flutters in his stomach at the words ‘next time’. He stares evenly at Jisung until the other mutters “fuck” again and takes off his boxers. This time Minho forces himself to keep his eyes on Jisung’s face.
“What now, baby?” Minho drawls, summoning as much bored indifference as he can, while a tiny part of his brain is running a victory lap that the silent treatment worked.
“You could take your clothes off too,” Jisung suggests.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Minho says. “You’re supposed to be training your Dom,” he continues in a condescendingly sweet voice. “Would taking off my clothes right now really make me a good Dom?”
Jisung opens his mouth to speak, takes a deep breath, and closes it again. “You are so fucking hot,” he says. “Please kiss me.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “Begging already? You are easy.” Jisung scowls at him, grabs Minho’s shirt in both hands, and kisses him hard. Minho’s body responds before he can consider doing otherwise, his hands grabbing Jisung’s waist as he pushes his tongue into the other’s mouth. He groans at the feel of bare flesh under his hands, knowing he’s still fully clothed.
Minho slides his hands down and squeezes Jisung’s ass. It’s as amazing as the rest of him, tight and muscular and responsive, clenching under his fingers as Jisung pulls out of the kiss to breathe. “Fuck,” Jisung gasps again.
“Your vocabulary goes to shit when you’re horny,” Minho whispers into the other’s ear, which he then bites, because why the hell not.
“That’s because I’m a cockslut,” Jisung says, rolling his head back as Minho nibbles down his neck.
“Is that what you want me to call you?” Minho asks before biting a little harder than he typically would at the seam between Jisung’s neck and shoulders.
“Yes,” Jisung says, his voice an octave or two higher than usual. “Yes,” he repeats in his usual range, if shakily. Minho grabs Jisung’s wrists and forces them above the younger’s head, crossing them so Minho can keep them pinned against the door with one hand.
“What else do you want me to call you?” Minho asks conversationally, running his free hand casually down Jisung’s body.
“Fuck!” Jisung says, surging off of the wall in response to being restrained. Minho can’t remember the last time he was so hard while still wearing pants. “Literally anything. Cockslut, whore, puppy, fuck!”
Minho shifts so their bodies aren’t touching and it appears to be driving Jisung mad. “Good puppy,” Minho coos. “I like how you look when you’re desperate.”
“I’m not fucking desperate,” Jisung says through clenched teeth. Minho reaches forward and cups Jisung’s cock without taking his eyes off of Jisung’s face.
“You’re lying,” he says, giving Jisung’s half-hard cock a brief squeeze. Jisung’s shuddering breath is music to Minho’s ears. He lets go of Jisung and fumbles at his own pants with one hand, keeping Jisung’s wrists pinned with the other. He’s unable to suppress a sigh of relief when he finally gets his cock free. He gives himself a couple of casual strokes and leans towards Jisung. “How am I doing, professor?”
“Fuck!” Jisung says, hips grinding uselessly against nothing. “You’re the fucking liar because there’s no way you’ve never done this before. Were you just fucking with me? Because fucking hell…”
Minho kisses him on his nose, which makes Jisung choke off the rest of his complaints. “You haven’t answered my question. What. Now. Baby?”
Jisung pulls hard against Minho’s hand but Minho shifts his weight onto that arm and either Jisung can’t break free or he doesn’t want to. “You could punish me for not answering your question,” he says boldly, grinning and showing his teeth.
“And how would you like to be punished?” Minho asks softly, trying to ignore his cock twitching in his hand.
Jisung swallows hard. “Spanking is a classic,” he replies. “I love a good spanking. Oral is good too. Making me do you, I mean. Traditionally. You could edge me, but that takes practice. Umm…” He licks his lips and swallows again. “It’s more fun if you surprise me.”
Minho takes a moment to think and then smiles with more genuine glee than he can remember feeling in a long time. “You want me to be creative?”
“Are you up for it?” Jisung asks. He’s regained some of his composure but Minho has seen too much now. He’s sure Jisung has other buttons—does it count as falling for Jisung if Minho wants to discover all of those buttons?—but one is crystal clear.
Minho doesn’t let his smile drop for one second as he says, “Go stand in the corner.” Jisung looks absolutely shocked and appalled, which chokes a giggle out of Minho. He doesn’t wait for any further reaction, just lets go of Jisung’s wrists, spins him around by his beautifully defined shoulders, and pushes him gently but firmly towards the only free corner of the room.
“The fuck?” Jisung exclaims. He tries to turn around but Minho doesn’t let him.
“What happens if you can’t take a punishment?” Minho asks, giving the younger another push. “Does that mean I win?” Jisung’s silence is answer enough. “And, I think you should put your hands behind your neck too, just in case you’re tempted to get grabby with yourself.”
“Why are you so good at this?” Jisung whines, facing the corner and lacing his fingers together behind his neck.
“You’re incredibly obvious,” Minho says, stepping away and admiring the view of Jisung’s naked back, ass, and legs. He starts pulling off his clothes, taking his time to shake out and neatly place each item over the back of his chair. He empties the pockets of his jeans before stepping out of his underwear and tossing them into a hamper. Then he scratches his neck and checks the notifications on his phone.
Minho can’t actually process anything he sees, though, his entire awareness laser-focused on Jisung. Jisung’s hands are squeezed together so tight behind his neck that his knuckles are white. He can’t seem to keep still, weight shifting from one leg to the other, ass clenching as he thrusts his hips into nothing with a choked off sob. Minho plugs in his phone and lies down on his bed, propping himself up on an elbow and fondling himself.
Minho moans, not needing to fake it because he’s ridiculously hard, and Jisung quivering in the corner is ridiculously hot.
“You’re a good teacher,” Minho says as calmly as he can.
“Fuck! You’re a good student,” Jisung replies.
Minho can’t drag his eyes from the sight of Jisung’s muscles tensing and relaxing, clearly wanting to move but staying put solely because Minho told him to. It’s a heady thought. Jisung is losing his mind and it’s because of Minho. Minho groans and gives up on dragging this out any further.
“Come here,” Minho says, pushing himself off the bed and staggering towards Jisung. “Or stay there, I don’t care. But I want your mouth on my cock. Now.” He’s sure that he’s the one sounding desperate now, but he can't bring himself to care.
For once Jisung doesn’t say anything, just turns around, drops to his knees, and shuffles to meet Minho in the middle of the room. He makes grabby hands before hooking one hand behind Minho’s thigh and wrapping the other around the base of Minho’s cock.
“I can’t believe you just made grabby hands at my dick,” Minho says, then groans because Jisung has the head of his cock in his mouth and is swirling his tongue around it like a popsicle. He knows what to do with his hand, too, holding Minho firmly and letting his lips and tongue do most of the work. He licks up the underside of Minho’s shaft and back down again, mouthing lightly at his balls.
“I want you to fuck my face,” Jisung says, his breath hot against Minho’s skin.
“Why not?” Minho chokes. “Tell me what to do.”
“Hold my head still,” Jisung says, looking up with what Minho would consider reasonably wrecked eyes. Minho twines the fingers of one hand in Jisung’s hair at the base of his skull and nods.
“Next?”
“Thrust into my mouth,” Jisung says, his voice delightfully breathy. “Just… treat my face like a hole. Start slow so I can adjust. Move my head if you need to. I’ll tap your leg if I want you to stop.”
“How many times?” Minho asks.
Jisung laughs. “Were you going to count before stopping? I’m not planning on tapping your leg for any other reason, so err on the side of stopping.”
“Understood,” Minho says. He isn’t sure that a mouth would make a very good hole, not when holes without teeth are available, but Jisung wants him to fuck his face, so Minho is going to give it his all. He uses his free hand to guide his cock into the younger’s mouth before twining that hand in Jisung’s hair as well. Jisung takes him eagerly, his mouth and tongue working around Minho’s cock once or twice before relaxing. Minho takes that as a prompt to push further in.
It feels strange to be controlling oral sex from this side, but judging by the sounds Jisung’s making he seems into it, so Minho does his best. He thinks about everything Jisung has said about wanting his mouth fucked shut, and gives an experimental thrust into the younger’s mouth. Jisung groans, his eyes begging for more, and Minho realizes that this isn’t about him at all. This is about Jisung, and what Jisung wants, and Minho is back on the familiar ground of wanting to satisfy his partner.
Minho imagines his cock is in Jisung’s ass and moves accordingly. Once he’s deep enough that Jisung can’t use his tongue, a mouth really doesn’t feel too much different from an ass. Once again, it’s intoxicating knowing that he’s in control, that he can move Jisung’s head however he wants, can control what Jisung feels and when he comes, and that Jisung wants him to do all of this.
Jisung taps on his leg and Minho releases his grip on Jisung’s hair. “Fuck,” Jisung gasps. Minho is so close to the edge that he doesn’t know if he should encourage Jisung to end it or if he wants to drag this on as long as possible. “Try holding my face to your stomach and rolling your hips,” Jisung suggests, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “I’ll tap when I want you to let go.”
“Okay,” Minho says weakly.
“Just don’t freak out if I throw up on you a little,” Jisung says as Minho reaches for his hair. Minho pauses and shrugs. Jisung grabs the back of his thighs again.
“Okay,” Minho says, gripping a fistful of Jisung’s hair and sliding his cock as far down Jisung’s throat as he can go. He can feel Jisung’s nose pressed to his pubic bone, his throat clenching and spasming around Minho’s cock. Minho rolls his hips the way Jisung suggested and it feels amazing.
“I’m going to come,” Minho gasps. “I assume you don’t mind, but if you do please tap out now.” Jisung must be rubbing off on him because he has no idea how he got that entire sentence out, and the thought of Jisung rubbing off on him has him coming hard down the other’s throat, only vaguely aware of the taps to his thigh that he is thankfully able to respond to even as the majority of his brain is lost in a post-orgasmic haze.
“Fuck,” Minho says.
“Yeah,” Jisung says from the floor. He’s panting and stroking himself lightly, and it’s clear he’s just about ready to come. Minho realizes that he still has work to do, and that snaps him back to reality.
“Does baby want to come?” he asks in the softest voice he can manage, poking Jisung’s shoulder with his bare toes.
“Yes, please, fuck!“ Jisung whimpers.
“Begging again, Jisung?” Minho whispers, bracing himself against his desk so he can push Jisung onto his back using a foot on his chest.
“Yes!” Jisung gasps. “Please let me come. Fuck!”
“Go for it,” Minho says, acting bored, putting more of his weight on the leg holding Jisung down.
“Fuck,” Jisung says, and it only takes a few strokes before he’s crying out and coming onto his stomach, muscles straining against the foot keeping him pinned to the floor.
Minho laughs. “That was delightful,” he says, wiggling his toes before moving his foot so Jisung can get up.
Jisung stays where he is, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he says. “What just happened?”
“I think I passed,” Minho says, digging around in his desk for a pack of wet wipes.
“I never want to see you again,” Jisung says weakly.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Minho laughs, kneeling to clean the cum off of the other’s abs. They’re nice abs.
“Fuck you,” Jisung says.
“It would be fun to see if I could make you cry,” Minho says.
“Fuck,” Jisung says. Minho waits for him to continue, but apparently Minho has actually managed to shut him up. Minho rolls his neck and pulls on a pair of sweats. He’s looking forward to their next lesson.