Work Text:
Minho always thought he was good at keeping his composure, the cool kitty he showed to stays
On stage, in interviews, even when fans teased him with edits or different ships, his falls on stage or his age— he could brush it off with a smirk and a raised brow.
But lately.... yeah lately , every time someone mentioned Seungmin and Changbin. The new It-Couple. And why was the pairing with Chan so poopular again and all these edits where Chan was laying on his boyfriend, or Felix’s clingy affection, him calling Seungmin his husband and the man, like he was the man in their relationship, the one who take care of Felix. Instead it was MInho who took care of Seungmin..... in every possible way.
His chest tightened in ways he hated admitting, the ugly feeling burning.
The dance studio was getting quiet, the beats after rehearsing for the ceremony schedule dying down
After the door clicked shut behind them, Seungmin leaned against the mirrored wall, catching his breath from practice, but Minho was already pressing into him, jaw tight, eyes dark with a storm of jealousy, possessiveness.
“Do you like it?” he hissed slowly, slamming his palm against the mirror beside Seungmin’s head full of fresh permed hair.
“The way they touch you. Laugh with you. Put their hands all over you like you’re theirs? The fans doing new ship edits of you,, how you like to be manhandled”
Seungmin arched a brow, when his eyes widened in surprise, lips quirking slightly “You’re jealous.”
“Damn right, I’m jealous.” Minhos chest pressed flush against Seungmin.
“I sit there quiet through interviews, listening to the others compliment you, call you their man and even worse while you let everyone else touch what’s mine.”
Seungmin smirked, daring. “ oops, but i thought you wanted a divorce, maybe you should remind me, kitty- hyung. Remind me who I belong to.”
Minhos restraint shattered. His mouth crashed onto Seungmins pouty lips rough and claiming, teeth grazing, tongues colliding. Seungmin gasped into it, fists tangling in Minhos sweaty hoodie to pull him rven closer, his lean body grinding back against Minhos harf muscles, the thick tighs he loved so much.
Minho groaned, pressing harder, hips and dick nudging against Seungmins with urgency.
. “You think Yongbok gets this? Gives you what you need in your fucking happy home where you two seem to live like a fucking married couple.” he growled, lips trailing down Seungmin’s neck. “You think he knows, how hard you need to get fucked, or dou you thinl Changbin does? Does he think grabbing your neck makes your little hole all wet and ready” His hands slid under Seungmins shirt, fingers grazing the heated skin. Seungmin shuddered, knees weak and feeling so much pressure in his body.
“hyungie—” Seungmin moaned, voice cracking, hips rutting forward, needing his boyfriends hard length. .
“Mine,” Minho snarled possessivly, biting the collarbone he’d just kissed. “Say it.”
“Yours,” Seungmin gasped, arching, breath ragged. “Always yours.”
" Say who you belong to, Kim Seungmin!" Minho demanded
" i belong to you, Lee Minho"
---
Hearing that, Minho dropped to his knees, tugging Seungmins shorts down. The sight of him flushed, trembling, already hard, made Minhos breath hitch, almost growling with the knowledge that it was all his.
“You let anyone else see you like this?” Minho asked, , stroking him once, deliberate, painfully slow.
Seungmins back arched, trembling with need for his boyfriend.
“N-nn-no,” Seungmin stammered. “Only you.”
Minhos mouth engulfed him fully, tugging loud moans from Minnie as fingers tangled in his blue hair.
Every movement was rough, claiming, jealousy that turned to physical proof.
.
When Seungmin started to tremble on the edge of cuming, Minho pulled back, just smirking darkly.
“Not enough”, he mumbled and turned the younger against the mirror, pressing chest to back, fingering the little hole, he loved so much, that welcomed him almost every day, sliding inside him in one sharp thrust. Seungmin cried out, nails digging into the fogged mirror.
Skin slapped, breaths collided, and the mirrored wall caught every mark, every gasp, every whimper the both gave away.
“Mine,” Minho growled, thrusting deeper and deeper, rhythm steady, marking him with every movement. “Every inch. Every gasp of you is mine, my man, my namja, Lee Seungmin”
“O---only—you,” Minnie panted, arching into him. “Only yours.”
When they came together, Seungmins body convulsed, crying out in peace. Minho spilling deep inside, holding him pressed to the mirror until both were trembling, marked, and claimed, feeling his boyfriend filled up with his seed, tummy bloated by the pure amount of it.