Work Text:
Minho showed up with his camera and absolutely zero idea what he was getting himself into.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Jisung said, opening the door.“Seriously, I owe you big time.”
“It’s fine,” Minho said, stepping inside. “I’m just
clicking some pictures, right? How hard can it be?”
Jisung’s smile was a little too innocent. “Right. Super easy.”
Minho had known about Jisung’s work for over a year now. He’d been supportive the way a good best friend should be — never judgmental, occasionally helpful with tech issues, generally just treating it like any other job because that’s what it was. A job.
He’d seen some of the content. Not like, actively sought it out, but Jisung would show him posts sometimes, ask for opinions on filters or whatever. It was fine. Minho had gotten very good at looking at those photos the way you’d look at any other kind of content creation.
That lasted exactly as long as it took for Jisung to come out of his bedroom five minutes later.
“Okay,” Jisung said, perfectly casual. “Ready?”
Minho was not ready.
The outfit was.. there was barely an outfit. A white lace thong that sat low on Jisung’s hips, the waistband delicate and almost sheer, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. A matching cropped mesh top that stopped just below his ribs, so sheer Minho could see straight through to skin. The lace detailed the edges, drawing attention to every line of Jisung’s torso, the dip of his collarbones, the curve of his waist.
Minho had never seen his best friend wear anything remotely like this. Had never seen this much of him, period. The muscle definition, the smooth expanse of his stomach, his thighs…god his thighs..
“You good?” Jisung asked, tilting his head.
“Yeah,” Minho managed, forcing his eyes up to Jisung’s face. “Fine. Where do you want to set up?”
“Bedroom,” Jisung said easily. “The lighting's better there.”
Minho followed him down the hall, very deliberately keeping his eyes on the back of Jisung’s head and absolutely nowhere else. The camera felt significantly heavier than it had five minutes ago.
The bedroom was set up already — soft lighting, rumpled white sheets that looked deliberately arranged, a few props strategically placed. It looked exactly like what it was: a stage.
“So,” Jisung said, turning to face him. The movement made the mesh shift, catching the light. “I usually have my photographer help with prep.”
“Prep?” Minho’s voice came out rougher than intended.
“Yeah.” Jisung picked up a small bottle of oil from the nightstand. “Makes the skin look better on camera. More… glowy..” He held it up. “I can’t really reach my back, so if you could help..”
Minho stared at the bottle.
“You want me to..?”
“Oil me up, yeah.” Jisung smiled, entirely too casual about this. “Is that okay? I know it’s kind of weird but it would really help..”
“No,” Minho said too quickly. “I mean, it’s not weird. It’s work..”
“Exactly.” Jisung held out the bottle.
Minho took it. His hands felt unsteady.
This was fine.
Everything was fine.
“Should I..” Minho gestured vaguely. “How do you usually do this?”
“I’ll lie down,” Jisung said, already moving toward the bed. He settled on his stomach, arms folded under his chin, and looked back over his shoulder. “Just start with my shoulders and work down?”
Work down.
Right.
Minho poured oil into his palm, warming it between his hands because that seemed like the professional thing to do, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that he was about to put his hands on his best friend’s bare skin.
Minho knelt on the bed beside him, hands hovering for just a second before he pressed his palms to Jisung’s shoulders.
Jisung relaxed under his hands. “That’s nice. Thanks.”
Nice. Right. Minho worked the oil across Jisung’s shoulders, trying to be methodical about it. This was just helping a friend with work. The fact that Jisung’s skin was warm and smooth under his palms didn’t mean anything.
“You can press harder,” Jisung said. “I’m not gonna break.”
Minho pressed harder, fingers sliding down the slope of Jisung’s shoulder blades. The mesh top was so sheer it barely existed, and Minho found himself pushing it up slightly to get better access to the small of Jisung’s back.
“Yeah, like that,” Jisung murmured.
Minho’s hands moved lower, working the oil down Jisung’s spine, thumbs pressing into the dimples just above the lace waistband. He hesitated there.
“Keep going,” Jisung said softly. “That’s… that’s the main focus, actually.”
Minho’s brain short-circuited. “The..?”
“The ass, yeah.” Jisung said it so casually, like this was completely normal. “That’s what the subscribers want to see. So it needs to look good.”
Minho poured more oil into his hands and tried very hard not to think about what he was about to do.
His hands settled on the curve of Jisung’s lower back first, just above the lace, and Jisung shifted slightly under his touch.
“You’re tense,” Jisung observed.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to be weird about it. My photographer does this every time.”
That should’ve made it easier. It didn’t.
Instead, something ugly and possessive twisted in Minho’s chest. His photographer. Some other person had their hands on Jisung like this. Had touched him, had seen him like this, had..
Minho’s grip tightened slightly on Jisung’s hips.
“Min?” Jisung asked. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Minho said, voice coming out rougher than intended. “Just concentrating.”
Minho’s hands moved lower, palms sliding over the swell of Jisung’s ass through the sheer lace and his breath caught because the fabric was so thin he could feel everything. The warmth, the curve, the way Jisung’s body shifted slightly as his hands moved.
“The lace needs oil too,” Jisung said quietly. “Makes it look better on camera. More… you know.”
Minho didn’t know. His brain had officially stopped working.
He worked the oil over the lace, hands moving slowly, and Jisung made a soft sound that went straight through him.
“Good?” Minho managed.
“Yeah.” Jisung’s voice had gone a little rough. “That’s good.”
Minho’s hands slid lower, to Jisung’s thighs, and he was very aware of how close his fingers were getting to..
He pulled back slightly and Jisung looked over his shoulder.
“You missed some,” Jisung said.
“Where?”
Jisung shifted, spreading his legs just slightly. “Here.”
Minho stared.
“It’s fine,” Jisung said. “Just between my thighs..The shots are gonna show everything anyway.”
This was definitely not fine. Nothing about this was fine.
But Minho’s hands moved anyway, sliding between Jisung’s thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to the thin lace, and Jisung’s breath hitched audibly.
“Is this okay?” Minho started.
“Yeah,” Jisung breathed. “That’s good.
The oil made everything slick and warm and Minho was trying so hard to be professional about this but Jisung kept making these small sounds and shifting under his hands and..
“Okay,” Minho said, voice strained. “Front too?”
Jisung pushed himself up slowly, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. The oil made his skin gleam in the soft lighting. His chest was rising and falling a little too quickly.
“Yeah,” Jisung said. “Front too.”
Minho poured more oil and this time when he touched Jisung, everything felt different. Jisung was sitting up now, watching him, and there was nowhere to hide from the weight of his gaze.
Minho’s hands settled on Jisung’s collarbones first, sliding down over the sheer mesh. He could feel Jisung’s heartbeat, quick and unsteady under his palms.
“You’re staring,” Jisung said softly.
“I’m concentrating.”
“On what?”
“Not fucking this up.”
Jisung laughed quietly. “You’re doing fine.”
Minho’s hands moved lower, over Jisung’s chest, his ribs, the taut lines of his stomach. The oil made everything slippery, made his hands slide too easily. Made it impossible to pretend this was just work.
“Lower,” Jisung said.
Minho’s eyes snapped to his. “What?”
“The waistband.” Jisung gestured down at the lace sitting low on his hips. “Needs to catch the light right.”
Minho’s hands moved to Jisung’s hips, thumbs hooking just under the delicate waistband, and Jisung’s breath stuttered.
“Like that?” Minho asked, voice rough.
“Yeah.” Jisung’s eyes hadn’t left his face. “Just like that.”
For a moment neither of them moved. Then Jisung pulled back slightly, breaking the tension.
“Okay,” he said, voice a little unsteady. “I think that’s good. Should we start shooting?”
Right. Photos. The actual reason Minho was here.
“Yeah,” Minho managed, pulling his hands back. “Where do you want to start?”
Jisung shifted on the bed, positioning himself. “I’ll do a few different poses. You just keep shooting, okay? Get different angles.”
“Okay.”
Jisung lay back against the pillows first, one arm above his head, the mesh riding up to show the smooth expanse of his stomach. The lighting caught on the oil, making his skin gleam.
Minho raised the camera and started shooting.
Through the lens, it was somehow easier and harder at the same time. Easier because he had something to focus on, a task. Harder because he could really look now, could study every detail without pretending he wasn’t.
“How’s that?” Jisung asked.
“Good,” Minho said. His voice sounded strange. “That’s good.”
Jisung shifted, rolling onto his side, one leg bent. The lace stretched across his hip. Click. Click.
“More?” Jisung asked.
“Yeah, keep going.”
Jisung moved again, this time onto his stomach, face turned toward the camera, and Minho’s breath caught because from this angle he could see everything. The curve of Jisung’s ass in the sheer lace, the oil making the fabric cling, the way the light caught on his body.
“You stopped,” Jisung observed.
“Just adjusting the settings.”
“Mm.” Jisung shifted slightly, arching his back just a little. “How’s the angle?”
“It’s..” Minho swallowed. “It’s fine.”
“Come closer,” Jisung said. “You’ll get better shots.”
Minho moved closer, kneeling at the edge of the bed and Jisung looked back over his shoulder at him.
“Better?”
“Yeah.”
Jisung’s hands slid down to his hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of the lace. “Should I
pull them down a little? That’s usually what works best for this kind of content.”
Minho’s hands tightened on the camera. “If that’s..if that’s what you normally do.”
“It is.” Jisung’s fingers tugged the lace lower, just slightly, revealing the curve of his ass more fully. “Like this?”
“Jesus,” Minho breathed.
“Too much?”
“No. No, that’s..” Click. “That’s good.”
Jisung shifted again, spreading his legs slightly, and Minho could see more now, could see the way the lace barely covered anything, the way the oil made everything visible.
“Get the details,” Jisung said quietly. “That’s what they pay for.”
Minho moved the camera lower, focusing and his hands were definitely not steady anymore.
Through the lens, Jisung was devastating. All smooth oiled skin and perfect curves and Minho was supposed to be professional about this, was supposed to just take the photos and not think about..
“Okay,” Jisung said after a few more shots. “I think…hold on.”
He shifted, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of the lace and slid it down completely. Off.
Minho’s grip on the camera tightened.
Jisung settled onto his back, completely bare now except for the sheer mesh top that had ridden up to his ribs.
“Better,” Jisung said, like this was completely normal. Like he wasn’t fully naked in front of his best friend right now. “More versatile for different shots.”
“Right,” Minho managed. “Versatile.”
“Get a few from this angle first.”
Minho raised the camera with unsteady hands and started shooting. Jisung shifted between poses—arching his back slightly, legs together, then apart, then bent at the knee.
“How are they looking?” Jisung asked.
“Good. They’re..they’re good.”
“My subscribers like it when the content feels more… immersive,” Jisung said casually. “Like they’re part of the experience.”
“Immersive?”
“Yeah.” Jisung looked back over his shoulder. “So for the next few shots..” He paused. “Can you put your hand on me?”
Minho’s brain stuttered to a halt. “What?”
“Just your hand. On my ass.” Jisung said it so calmly. “It makes the shot more intimate. Like there’s someone else there with me. They love that.”
“Jisung..”
“It’s fine. My photographer does it all the time.” A pause. “Unless you’re not comfortable..”
“No, I..” Minho put the camera down. “Where?”
“Just..” Jisung shifted slightly. “Anywhere. However feels natural.”
Natural. Nothing about this felt natural.
Minho reached out, palm settling on the curve of Jisung’s ass, and Jisung made a soft sound that went straight through him.
“Okay?” Minho asked, voice rough.
“Yeah.” Jisung’s voice had changed too. Less casual now. “That’s good. Now take the shot.”
Minho picked up the camera with his free hand, trying to frame it properly, but all he could focus on was the warmth of Jisung’s skin under his palm. The way Jisung shifted slightly under his touch.
Click.
“Can you..” Jisung paused.“Can you grip a little? Not too much, just..it’ll show better on camera.”
Minho’s hand tightened, fingers pressing into soft flesh, and Jisung made a sound that definitely wasn’t professional anymore.
“Like that?” Minho asked.
“Yes.” The word came out strained. “Just like that.”
Minho took another shot, then another, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the framing anymore. All he could focus on was the way Jisung was breathing, the way his body shifted under Minho’s hand, the small sounds he was trying and failing to hold back.
“Move lower,” Jisung said quietly.
Minho’s hand stilled. “What?”
“For the next shot. Move your hand lower. Between..” Jisung’s voice cracked slightly. “Just for the framing.”
This was definitely not just for the framing.
But Minho’s hand moved anyway, sliding down from the curve of Jisung’s ass, fingers trailing lower until they brushed between his cheeks, and Jisung gasped.
“Okay?” Minho asked, and his voice didn’t sound like his own anymore.
“Yeah,” Jisung breathed. “Don’t move. Just take the shot.”
Minho raised the camera with his free hand, trying to focus, but all he could think about was where his fingers were right now. How close they were to..
Click.
“Another,” Jisung said, voice unsteady. “Spread a little.”
“Spread?”
“Me.” Jisung’s breath hitched. “Spread me a little. For the shot.”
Minho’s thumb and fingers pressed gently on either side, spreading Jisung open just slightly, and Jisung made a broken sound, back arching.
“Jesus,” Minho breathed.
“Is it..” Jisung’s voice was shaking now. “Is it good? For the shot?”
Minho wasn’t even looking through the camera anymore. He was looking at Jisung, at the way Jisung was already starting to react to just this.
“Yeah,” Minho said roughly. “It’s good.”
“Take it then.”
Minho raised the camera, trying to steady his hands enough to actually focus. Click.
“More,” Jisung said.
“More what?”
“Spread more. They want to see..” He stopped, breathing hard. “They want to see everything.”
Minho’s fingers spread him wider, and he could see everything now. The way Jisung’s hole looked, pink and perfect and already starting to clench from just the exposure, the touch.
“Fuck,” Minho breathed.
“Good?” Jisung asked, voice small.
“You have no idea.”
Click. Click.
Jisung shifted slightly, looking back over his shoulder, and his eyes dropped lower. To where Minho was kneeling. To the very obvious bulge straining against his jeans.
“You’re hard,” Jisung said softly.
Minho’s face went hot. “I..sorry, I didn’t mean to..”
“Don’t apologize.” Jisung’s voice had changed, something hungry underneath the coyness. “That’s a normal reaction..”
“This is your job, I shouldn’t be..”
“It’s fine, Min. I get it.”
Minho gave the most apologetic smile he could muster.
“I need to do a few more shots,” Jisung said. He reached over to the nightstand, pulling out a drawer. “With props.”
He pulled out a dildo—it was pink with ridges all across it. Minho’s brain short-circuited watching Jisung hold it so casually.
“I usually..” Jisung stopped, looking at the toy, then at Minho, then back at the toy. “I usually use this for the content. Subscribers want to see penetration.”
Minho didn’t know what to say to that.
Jisung was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. At the way Minho was breathing too fast. At the obvious strain in his jeans.
“You know,” Jisung said slowly. “There’s an easier solution here.”
“What?”
“You look really uncomfortable.” Jisung gestured vaguely at Minho’s lap. “That can’t feel good.”
Minho’s face went hot. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re hard and trying to pretend you’re not and it’s kind of distracting.” Jisung sat up slightly, setting the dildo aside. “What if we just… dealt with it?”
“Dealt with it?”
“What if we used you as a prop..? If you don’t mind..?”
Minho looked at him. At his best friend, naked and flushed and asking to use him for content. Asking for more than that, really.
“You’re sure?” Minho asked.
“I’m sure.” Jisung shifted onto his knees, turning to face him fully. “Are you?”
Minho’s eyes dropped to where Jisung was now very obviously hard too, and something in his chest loosened.
“Yeah,” he said roughly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Jisung reached for his belt. “Can I?”
Minho nodded, not trusting his voice.
Jisung’s fingers worked his belt open, then his zipper, movements practiced and confident despite the slight shake in his hands. When he pulled Minho’s cock out, they both made a sound.
“Fuck,” Jisung breathed, wrapping his hand around him. “You’re so..”
“Don’t,” Minho managed.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say whatever you’re about to say or this is going to be over really fast.”
Jisung laughed softly, and it was so familiar, so them, that some of the tension eased.
“Okay,” Jisung said. “How do you want to do this?”
“You’re asking me?”
“You’re the photographer,” Jisung pointed out. “What angle works best?”
This was insane. This was completely insane.
“Turn around,” Minho said. “On your knees. Like before.”
Jisung obeyed, settling back into position, and Minho moved closer, one hand reaching out to grip Jisung’s hip.
“Like this?” Jisung asked.
“Yeah.” Minho’s voice was shaking. “I am just going to line it up. Make it look good for the camera.”
Minho positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against Jisung’s hole, and they both made a broken sound.
“Okay?” Minho asked.
“Yeah. Take the shot.”
Minho reached for the camera with one shaking hand, the other still gripping Jisung’s hip, his cock pressed right there.
Click.
“Another,” Jisung breathed. “But this time..” He swallowed. “Slap it against me.”
Minho’s brain short-circuited. “What?”
“Your dick. Slap it against my hole.” Jisung’s voice was shaking now. “They like that. The sound, the visual, all of it.”
Minho pulled back slightly and let his cock slap against Jisung’s entrance and the obscene sound it made, wet from the oil, made them both gasp.
“Again,” Jisung said.
Minho did it again. And again. Each slap made Jisung’s body jerk slightly, making him moan out.
Click. Click.
“Fuck,” Jisung breathed. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
Minho kept going, alternating between pressing against him and pulling back to slap against his hole, and Jisung was falling apart under him.
“Okay,” Jisung said after a moment, voice completely wrecked. “Okay, I think I need different shots now.”
“What kind?”
Jisung turned over slowly, sitting up, and his eyes dropped to Minho’s cock, still painfully hard. He might’ve drooled a little looking at the sheer size of his erection. But he held his emotions back, this was still a professional setting.
“POV shots,” he said. “My subscribers love those.”
“POV?”
“From your perspective. Looking down.” Jisung shifted closer, settling between Minho’s legs. “So they feel like they’re the ones receiving.”
“Receiving what?”
Jisung’s hand wrapped around Minho’s cock and Minho’s hips jerked.
“A blowjob,” Jisung said simply. “I need shots of me sucking dick. And you’re right here, and you’re hard, and it makes more sense than using a toy.”
“Did your photographer also do that?”
“No, I never asked him..Also I don’t think he is as well endowed as you are.”
Minho’s face broke into a smile, despite the very strange situation he had found himself in.
“So…is it okay? If I suck your dick for my subscribers?”
Minho nodded, a considerable surge of heat pooling in his stomach.
“Hand me the camera.”
Minho handed it to him and Jisung adjusted the settings, switching to video mode.
“Video?” Minho asked.
“Makes more sense for this,” Jisung said. “Photos wouldn’t capture it right.” He passed the camera back. “Just hold it steady. Point it down at me. Get the angle right.”
“You want me to film you..?”
“Sucking your dick, yeah.” Jisung settled between his legs properly now, hands on Minho’s thighs. “Just keep it steady and try not to shake too much.”
“That’s..” Minho couldn’t breathe properly. “You’re really going to..”
“Unless you don’t want me to.”
“No, I..” Minho swallowed hard. “I want you to.”
Jisung smiled. “Then start recording.”
Minho pressed record with trembling hands, the little red light blinking on, and Jisung leaned forward, breath ghosting over his cock.
“Ready?” Jisung asked, looking up at the camera—at him.
“Yeah.”
Jisung’s tongue licked a slow stripe up his length, and Minho made a strangled sound, the camera shaking slightly in his grip.
“Steady,” Jisung reminded him, pulling back with a small smirk. “You’re the cameraman. Can’t have shaky footage.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“I’m not trying to.” Jisung leaned forward again, this time taking just the tip into his mouth, and Minho’s entire body went rigid.
“Fuck,” Minho breathed, trying desperately to keep the camera steady.
Jisung’s eyes flicked up, making direct eye contact with the lens as he took more, hollowing his cheeks, and Minho nearly dropped the camera entirely.
“Jesus, Jisung..”
Jisung pulled off with an obscene wet sound. “How’s the angle?”
“Good,” Minho managed. “Really fucking good.”
“Yeah?” Jisung’s hand wrapped around him, stroking slowly. “Getting everything?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” Jisung took him back into his mouth, deeper this time, and Minho had to concentrate so hard on keeping the camera pointed down and not just throwing it aside.
Jisung worked him slowly, taking him deeper with each bob of his head, making these soft satisfied sounds that the camera was definitely picking up.
His hand came up to work what his mouth couldn’t take, the coordination practiced and perfect.
“Jisung,” Minho said, voice strained. “You need to..if you keep..”
Jisung pulled off, lips slick and swollen. “What? You gonna come?”
“Yes, if you keep doing this..”
“Good.” Jisung’s tongue traced the underside. “That’s kind of the point.”
“For the video?”
“For me,” Jisung admitted.“I want to taste you. Want to see you lose it. Want proof that I can make you..”
He took Minho back into his mouth, deeper than before, and Minho’s hand shook so badly he had to grip the camera with both hands.
“Fuck, Jisung, I’m..”
Jisung didn’t pull off. He took him deeper, looking up at the camera with watery eyes and hollowed cheeks, and Minho felt everything pull tight.
“Jisung, I’m gonna..you need to..”
But Jisung’s hand squeezed his thigh, a clear signal: don’t you dare pull away.
Then Jisung reached up, wrapping his fingers around Minho’s wrist, and pulled his hand off the camera, guiding it to the back of his own head.
Minho froze. “What..?”
Jisung pulled off just enough to speak, voice wrecked. “Fuck my face.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Jisung’s eyes were dark and desperate. “Hold the camera with one hand and fuck my face with the other. They’ll love it.”
“Jisung, that’s..”
“Please.” Jisung’s fingers tightened on his wrist. “I want you to. I want to feel it.”
“You’re sure?”
“So sure.” Jisung guided Minho’s hand to tangle in his hair. “Come on, Min. Stop thinking. Just do it.”
Minho’s fingers tightened in Jisung’s hair experimentally, and Jisung made a broken sound, mouth falling open.
“Like that,” Jisung breathed. “Just like that.”
Minho adjusted his grip on the camera, making sure it was still recording—still steady—and then he tightened his hold in Jisung’s hair and guided him back down.
Jisung went willingly, mouth opening wider, and Minho pushed in slowly.
“Okay?” Minho asked.
Jisung made an affirmative sound around him, and Minho took that as permission to actually move.
He started slow, just gentle guidance, but Jisung made an impatient sound and pressed forward, taking him deeper, and Minho’s control started to slip.
“Fuck,” Minho breathed, grip tightening in Jisung’s hair as he thrust shallowly. “Is this..”
Jisung’s hand came up to tap his thigh twice. Keep going.
So Minho did. He kept the camera pointed down, capturing everything—the way Jisung’s lips stretched around him, the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, the absolutely wrecked expression on his face—while his other hand controlled the pace.
Jisung was completely pliant under him, letting Minho use his mouth, making these muffled sounds that went straight through him.
“God, you look..” Minho’s voice broke. “You look so good like this.”
Jisung’s eyes fluttered up to the camera, watery and desperate, and he took him even deeper, throat working around him.
“Jisung, fuck, I’m close..”
Jisung’s hand squeezed his thigh again. Don’t stop.
“You want me to..” Minho couldn’t even finish the sentence, hips stuttering.
Jisung made an affirmative sound, and that was it. That was all Minho could take.
“I’m gonna..fuck, Jisung…”
His hips thrust forward one more time and he came, the camera shaking in his grip as Jisung swallowed around him, taking everything.
For a moment neither of them moved. Just Minho’s harsh breathing and Jisung’s throat working as he swallowed.
Then Jisung pulled off slowly, lips swollen and slick, and looked up at the camera with the most devastatingly satisfied expression.
“Good?” he asked, voice completely wrecked.
Minho hit stop on the recording with shaking hands and dropped the camera onto the bed.
“Good?” he repeated incredulously. “Jisung, that was..amazing”
“Yeah.” Jisung was still on his knees, still between Minho’s legs, and he was very obviously hard, cock leaking against his stomach. “That was definitely good content.”
“Yeah, your subscribers will love it..”
Jisung shifted, settling back on his heels, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye now. “Quick question.”
“Okay?”
“Have you ever eaten ass?”
Minho choked on air. “What?”
“It’s a valid question!” Jisung was trying not to laugh. “I’m conducting research.”
“Research?”
“Professional curiosity.” Jisung’s grin was infectious. “So? Have you?”
Minho’s face was burning. “Why are you asking me this right now?”
“Because you look adorable when you’re embarrassed and I’m having fun.” Jisung poked his knee. “Come on. Yes or no?”
“…No,” Minho admitted.
Jisung’s eyes went wide. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Not even once? Not even a little?”
“How do you eat ass a little?” Minho demanded, and Jisung dissolved into laughter.
“Oh my god, you’re so flustered right now.”
“Because you’re having this conversation while my dick is out and you are practically naked.”
“But that’s exactly why we should have it now.” Jisung bit his lip, smile going playful. “Because I need rimming content anyway. And you’ve never done it. And we’re already…” He gestured between them. “You know.”
“You want me to eat your ass?” Minho couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“I mean, if you want to try it.” Jisung’s tone was light but his eyes were telling. “I’m a very willing volunteer for your first time.”
“This is insane.”
“This entire day has been insane,” Jisung pointed out. “What’s one more thing?”
Minho stared at him. “You’re actually serious.”
“Yeah.” Jisung was watching him carefully now. “No pressure, Min. We can just..”
“I want to,” Minho said. “I’m just thinking about the camera thing.”
“Right.” Jisung sat back, thinking. “Okay, so realistically, there’s no angle where I’m fully in frame and you’re completely out of it. Not for this.”
“So what do we do?”
“We film it,” Jisung said. “And I blur your face in editing.”
“You do that?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty easy actually.” Jisung pulled out his phone, showing Minho some editing app. “See? I just select the area and it blurs it automatically. Takes like two minutes.”
“And it works well?”
“Really well. Look.” Jisung scrolled through some examples. “You can’t tell who it is at all.”
Minho studied the screen. “Okay. Yeah, that works.”
“Yeah?” Jisung’s face lit up. “So we’re doing this?”
“I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this.”
“But you are agreeing.”
“I am,” Minho said. “I’m agreeing to eat your ass on camera.”
Jisung burst out laughing. “Oh my god, hearing you say it out loud..”
“You asked!”
“I know, I just..” Jisung was still giggling. “You’re so flustered and cute and I’m going to die.”
“You’re going to die?”
“From anticipation, yeah.” Jisung shifted onto his hands and knees. “Come on. Camera’s right there. Just hit record and..” He wiggled slightly. “Have at it.”
“Have at it,” Minho repeated. “You make it sound like a buffet.”
“I mean…” Jisung looked back over his shoulder with a grin.
“Okay,” Minho said, settling behind Jisung. “Tell me if I’m doing this wrong.”
“Trust me,” Jisung said, voice going rough as Minho’s hands settled on his hips. “I really don’t think you could do this wrong.”
For a moment Minho just looked at Jisung who looked so pliant like this, so beautiful.
“You’re thinking too much,” Jisung said softly.
“I’m just…”
“Nervous?”
“A little,” Minho admitted.
“It’s okay.” Jisung shifted back slightly. “Just start slow. Use your hands first if you want.”
Minho’s thumbs traced the curve of Jisung’s ass, spreading him gently, and Jisung made a soft encouraging sound.
“Like that,” Jisung breathed. “That’s good.”
Minho leaned closer, breath ghosting over heated skin, and Jisung shivered under him.
“Min..”
“I’m getting there,” Minho murmured. “Patience.”
Jisung made a sound of annoyance.
“Damn, you really can't wait huh?”
Jisung laughed breathlessly, and then the laugh cut off into a sharp gasp as Minho’s tongue made first contact.
Just a tentative lick, testing, and Jisung’s entire body went rigid.
“Oh..fuck…”
Minho pulled back slightly. “Okay?”
“Okay?” Jisung’s voice was strangled. “Don’t you dare stop.”
So Minho didn’t stop. He licked again, more confident this time, tongue flat and broad against Jisung’s rim, and Jisung’s hips jerked forward before pushing back desperately.
“God,” Jisung gasped into the pillow. “That’s..keep going..”
Minho did, finding a rhythm—slow, deliberate licks that made Jisung tremble. He could feel every reaction, every shiver, every broken sound Jisung was trying to muffle against the sheets.
“Don’t hold back,” Minho said, pulling away just enough to speak. “I want to hear you.”
Minho went back in, this time circling Jisung’s rim with the tip of his tongue, teasing, and Jisung made a sound he’d definitely never heard before.
“Fuck, Min..”
Minho pressed his tongue flat again, licking slow and thorough, and Jisung’s hands fisted in the sheets so hard his knuckles went white.
“More,” Jisung begged. “Please, I need..”
Minho tightened his grip on Jisung’s hips, holding him in place, and worked him over properly now—alternating between broad flat licks and focused attention with the tip of his tongue, finding what made Jisung shake, what made him gasp.
“Oh god, right there…” Jisung’s back arched. “Right there, don’t stop..”
Minho didn’t stop. He focused on that spot, tongue working in small circles, and Jisung was completely falling apart now. His thighs were trembling, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach, desperate sounds pouring out of him.
“Min, I can’t…it’s too much..”
But his hips were pushing back, seeking more, contradicting his words entirely.
Minho pulled back just slightly, spreading Jisung wider with his thumbs and just looked for a moment. Jisung’s hole was wet and pink and clenching around nothing.
“You look..” Minho’s voice came out rough.
“What?” Jisung managed.
“Perfect,” Minho said simply, and dove back in.
This time he didn’t hold back. He licked and sucked and worked Jisung open with his tongue, and Jisung was making sounds that should’ve been illegal—high and desperate and completely wrecked.
“Fuck, fuck, Min..your tongue..”
Minho pressed the tip of his tongue against Jisung’s entrance, not quite pushing in but applying pressure, and Jisung nearly came untouched right there.
“Oh my god..” Jisung’s whole body was shaking. “I’m so close..”
“From just this?” Minho asked, pulling back.
“From just this,” Jisung confirmed, voice wrecked. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Show me,” Minho said. “Turn over. I want to see your face.”
Jisung flipped onto his back immediately, legs falling open, and the sight made Minho’s breath catch. Jisung was completely debauched—pupils blown, lips bitten red.
“Better?” Jisung asked.
“Much better.”
Minho settled between his legs, pushing his thighs up and apart, and from this angle he could see everything. Could watch Jisung’s face while he worked him over.
“Ready?” Minho asked.
“Please..”
Minho’s tongue was back on him, and Jisung’s hands immediately flew to Minho’s hair, fingers tangling, holding him there.
“Yes, fuck, just like that..”
From this angle Minho could be more thorough. He licked broad stripes, then focused attention with the tip of his tongue, then back to broad, finding a rhythm that had Jisung gasping.
“Touch yourself,” Minho said against his skin. “I want to watch you.”
“I can’t..I’ll come too fast..”
“Good.”
Jisung’s hand wrapped around himself with a broken sound, stroking slow at first, then faster as Minho’s tongue worked him over.
“Min, I’m..I’m so close..”
Minho could see it—the way Jisung’s body was pulled tight, the desperate rhythm of his hand, the way his thighs were trembling on either side of Minho’s head.
“Let go,” Minho murmured against him. “Come for me.”
He pressed his tongue flat and licked one more time, and Jisung shattered. His back arched off the bed, hand working himself through it, cum spilling over his stomach and chest as he cried out.
Minho kept going through it, gentle now, working him through the aftershocks until Jisung was pushing weakly at his head.
“Stop, stop, too much..”
Minho pulled back, wiping his mouth, and just looked at Jisung. Completely wrecked. Thoroughly satisfied.
“Holy shit,” Jisung breathed finally, chest heaving.
“Good?” Minho asked.
“Good?” Jisung laughed, a little hysterical. “That was..you said you’ve never done that before?”
“Never.”
“That’s actually unfair.” Jisung was still catching his breath. “That’s..wow.”
Minho reached over to stop the recording, then settled beside him. Jisung immediately curled into him, boneless.
They lay there for a moment in comfortable silence.
Then Jisung shifted, and Minho realized he was hard again.
“Already?” Minho asked, amused.
“Shut up.” But Jisung was smiling. “Your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Yeah.” Jisung propped himself up on one elbow, looking at Minho with dark eyes. “You know what we haven’t filmed yet?”
“What?”
“The actual fucking.”
Minho stared at him. “You want to film that?”
Jisung’s fingers traced patterns on Minho’s chest. “I mean, that’s what my subscribers really want. And we’ve already done everything else.”
“This would be different.”
“How?”
“Because that’s..” Minho couldn’t find the words. “That’s actually fucking. That’s not just… fooling around on camera.”
Jisung was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yeah.” Jisung sat up slightly. “I got caught up in the..in the excuse of it all. But you’re right. That should be… different.”
“Different how?”
“Not on camera,” Jisung said simply. “At least not the first time.”
Minho felt something loosen in his chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jisung smiled softly. “The first time should just be us. No camera. No content. Just… us.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good.” Jisung settled back against him. “For what it’s worth, this whole thing stopped being about content like an hour ago.”
“When did it start being about something else?”
Jisung was quiet for a long moment. “You remember six months ago? When we went to that bar and got absolutely wasted?”
Minho’s heart stuttered. “Yeah.”
“And we kissed.”
“I..” Minho swallowed hard. “I thought you didn’t remember that.”
“I remember everything about that night.” Jisung’s voice was soft. “I just pretended I didn’t because you seemed to regret it the next day.”
“I didn’t regret it,” Minho said immediately. “I thought you were too drunk. I thought..I thought I’d taken advantage or something, and you’d be weird about it, so I just… pretended it didn’t happen.”
“You thought you took advantage?” Jisung laughed, a little disbelieving. “Min, I kissed you.”
“You were drunk.”
“So were you.”
“But I wanted..” Minho stopped. “I wanted it to mean something. And I thought for you it was just drunk curiosity or whatever.”
“It wasn’t.” Jisung turned to look at him properly. “That kiss was..it was everything. And then the next day you acted like it never happened and I thought that meant you wanted to forget it, so I did too.”
“We’re idiots.”
“Completely,” Jisung agreed. “But that’s when it started for me. That kiss. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. And then it just… grew. Until I was completely gone and didn’t know what to do about it.”
“So you orchestrated this whole thing.”
“The photographer didn’t actually cancel,” Jisung admitted with a sheepish smile. “I cancelled on him. I just needed to know. Needed to see if this was all in my head or if you felt it too.”
“I felt it too,” Minho said quietly. “Have been feeling it. Just didn’t know what to do about it.”
“And now?”
“Now I want to stop pretending,” Minho said. “I want..” He stopped, searching for words. “I want this to be real. Not content. Not an excuse. Just real.”
Jisung’s expression went soft and vulnerable. “Me too.”
They looked at each other for a long moment.
“So,” Jisung said eventually. “What now?”
“Now we stop filming,” Minho said. “And I take you to bed properly. No camera. No content. Just us.”
“We’re already in bed.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jisung smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” He paused. “Can I ask you something though?”
“Anything.”
“That kiss six months ago.” Jisung bit his lip. “Did you want to do it again? After?”
“Every single day,” Minho admitted.
“Good.” Jisung leaned in, closing the distance. “Me too.”
They kissed slowly this time, no urgency, just the two of them finally being honest. Minho could taste the difference in the way Jisung melted into him.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Jisung murmured against his lips.
“Me too.”
“Then why are we still talking?”
Minho laughed, rolling them over so Jisung was underneath him, caging him in. “Good point.”
Jisung’s legs wrapped around his waist immediately, pulling him closer, and Minho could feel how hard Jisung was again, pressed between them.
“I need you,” Jisung said, and there was something desperate in his voice now. “I need you inside me.”
“I know.” Minho kissed down his neck, biting gently. “Where’s the lube?”
“Nightstand. Top drawer. Hurry.”
Minho reached over, fumbling until he found it, and when he turned back, Jisung had already spread his legs wider, one hand reaching down to touch himself.
“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “You’re gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.”
Jisung’s face flushed. “Min..”
“I mean it.” Minho coated his fingers with lube. “I could look at you like this forever.”
“You can look later,” Jisung said impatiently. “Right now I need you to finger me open and fuck me until I can’t think.”
Minho’s cock twitched at the words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Minho circled Jisung’s rim with one slick finger, and Jisung’s hips lifted immediately, seeking more.
“Impatient,” Minho observed.
“I’ve been waiting six months,” Jisung shot back. “I’m allowed to be impatient.”
Minho pushed one finger in, and Jisung’s body welcomed it easily, still relaxed and open from earlier.
“More,” Jisung demanded. “I can take more.”
Minho added a second finger immediately, and Jisung made a satisfied sound, pushing down onto them.
“Like that,” Jisung breathed. “Deeper.”
Minho pressed deeper, crooking his fingers, and Jisung’s back arched off the bed.
“There…fuck..right there..”
Minho worked that spot, fingers curling, and Jisung was already shaking.
“Another,” Jisung gasped. “Give me another.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, god, yes..”
Minho added a third finger, stretching him properly now, and Jisung’s hand tightened in the sheets.
“So good,” Jisung was babbling now. “Your fingers feel so good, Min, but I need..I need your cock..”
“Not yet.”
“Min..”
“I want you ready.” Minho scissored his fingers, working him open thoroughly. “Want this to be good for you.”
“It’ll be good,” Jisung insisted. “It’ll be perfect. Just please…”
Minho pulled his fingers out, and Jisung made a sound of protest that turned into a gasp as Minho’s slick fingers wrapped around his cock instead, stroking slowly.
“What are you..”
“Getting you even more worked up,” Minho said, leaning down to bite at Jisung’s hip. “Want you desperate.”
“I am desperate.”
“More desperate.” Minho’s thumb swiped over the head of Jisung’s cock, and Jisung nearly came right there.
“Stop..stop, I’m too close..”
Minho pulled his hand away with a satisfied smile. “Perfect.”
“How do you want me?” Jisung asked.
“Like this,” Minho said, pushing Jisung’s thighs up toward his chest. “Want to see your face. Want to watch you fall apart.”
“I’m already falling apart.”
“Not yet you’re not.” Minho lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against Jisung’s entrance. “But you will be.”
He pushed in slowly, just the tip, and they both made broken sounds.
“More,” Jisung begged. “Don’t tease..”
“Not teasing.” Minho pushed in another inch. “Just savoring.”
“Min..”
“You feel so good,” Minho breathed, pressing deeper. “So tight. So perfect.”
Jisung’s hands flew to Minho’s shoulders, fingers digging in. “Please..all the way..I can take it..”
Minho snapped his hips forward, burying himself completely in one thrust, and Jisung cried out.
“Fuck..oh fuck..”
“Okay?” Minho asked, holding still even though it was killing him.
“More than okay,” Jisung gasped. “Move. Please move.”
Minho pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in hard, and Jisung’s whole body jerked.
“Yes..like that..harder..”
Minho set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward, and Jisung was taking it all, begging for more with every breath.
“Harder,” Jisung demanded. “I can take it..”
Minho’s hand slid up to wrap around Jisung’s throat, not squeezing, just holding, and Jisung’s eyes rolled back.
“Oh god..”
“This okay?” Minho asked, rhythm not faltering.
“Yes..fuck yes..don’t stop..”
Minho squeezed gently, and Jisung clenched around him so hard he nearly came.
“Jesus, Jisung.”
“Again,” Jisung begged. “Squeeze again..”
Minho did, hips driving forward relentlessly, and Jisung was completely gone now—incoherent sounds spilling from his lips, body trembling under Minho’s.
“Look at you,” Minho said roughly. “Taking me so well. Like you were made for this.”
“I was..” Jisung gasped. “Was made for you..”
Something in Minho’s chest cracked open at that. He released Jisung’s throat and leaned down to kiss him hard, changing the angle, and hit something inside Jisung that made him scream.
“There..oh god, right there..don’t stop..”
Minho didn’t stop. He pounded into that spot over and over, and Jisung was falling apart underneath him.
“Touch yourself,” Minho ordered. “Want to see you come on my cock.”
Jisung’s hand flew to his cock, stroking desperately, and he lasted maybe thirty seconds before his body went rigid.
He came with Minho’s name on his lips, body clenching rhythmically around Minho’s cock, cum spilling over his stomach, and Minho felt Jisung’s whole body shake through it.
But Minho didn’t stop.
He kept thrusting, kept that brutal pace, and Jisung’s eyes flew open.
But his body was responding, legs still wrapped tight around Minho’s waist, hips still meeting his thrusts even as he trembled from oversensitivity.
“You can,” Minho insisted, angling to hit that spot again. “Give me another one.”
“I can’t..” Jisung was practically sobbing now, hands scrabbling at Minho’s back. “Min, please..”
“Please what? Please stop or please don’t stop?”
Jisung made an incoherent sound, and Minho knew he had him.
“That’s what I thought,” Minho said, driving deeper. “You love this. Love being fucked even when it’s too much.”
“Yes..” Jisung admitted, voice breaking. “Yes, I love it..love your cock..”
“Yeah?” Minho’s hand wrapped around Jisung’s cock again, already trying to harden despite having just come. “Tell me more.”
“I..I can’t think..” Jisung’s head thrashed on the pillow. “You feel so good..so deep.. can’t..”
He was babbling now, completely incoherent, words dissolving into desperate sounds as Minho fucked him through the oversensitivity.
“Look at you,” Minho murmured. “So pretty when you’re like this. All fucked out and still wanting more.”
“More..” Jisung repeated mindlessly. “Want more..want you.”
“You have me,” Minho said. “You have all of me.”
Jisung’s cock was definitely hardening again now, impossible but happening, and Minho stroked him in time with his thrusts.
“Min..I can’t..I can’t come again..”
“Yes you can.” Minho’s grip tightened. “You’re going to come for me again. Going to be good and come one more time.”
“Please..” Jisung didn’t even know what he was begging for anymore.
Minho could feel his own orgasm building, could feel Jisung getting tighter around him, and he knew they were both close.
“Come with me,” Minho demanded. “Want to feel you come while I fill you up.”
That did it. Jisung came again, dry this time, body clenching and shaking, completely wrecked, and the feeling of it pushed Minho over the edge. He buried himself deep and came hard, hips stuttering through it.
Minho collapsed on top of Jisung for a moment, both of them shaking, trying to catch their breath. Then he carefully pulled out, settling beside him.
Jisung was making small overwhelmed sounds, body still trembling with aftershocks, eyes unfocused.
“You okay?” Minho asked softly, reaching to smooth Jisung’s hair back.
Jisung didn’t answer. He just looked at Minho with glazed, desperate eyes—completely cock-drunk and still wanting—and suddenly pushed at Minho’s shoulder.
“Jisung..”
“Lay down,” Jisung said, voice completely wrecked.
“What?”
“Lay down.” Jisung pushed harder, and Minho let himself be moved onto his back, confused.
“You need to rest.”
But Jisung was already moving, straddling Minho’s hips with shaking thighs, and Minho realized what he was doing.
“Jisung, wait…”
“Need you,” Jisung cut him off, reaching back to wrap his hand around Minho’s cock. Still half-hard despite having just come. “Need you inside me again.”
“You can’t..you’re..”
“I can.” Jisung lined himself up, Minho’s cum already leaking out of him, using it as extra lubrication. “I need it. Need to feel you.”
“Jisung..”
But Jisung was already sinking down, taking Minho’s cock in one smooth motion, and they both made broken sounds.
“Fuck,” Minho gasped, hands flying to Jisung’s hips. “You’re..you’re going to hurt yourself..”
“Don’t care,” Jisung breathed, already starting to move. His thighs were shaking, his whole body was trembling, but he rode Minho with desperate determination.
“Feels so good..you feel so good..”
“Ji, you need to..”
“Don’t.” Jisung’s movements got faster, more desperate. “Don’t tell me to stop. I can’t..I need this..need you..”
He was completely gone, lost in it, chasing sensation even though his body was clearly overwhelmed. His cock was trying valiantly to get hard again, and he was babbling incoherently.
“So good..so full..love your cock..love how deep it goes inside me..”
Minho’s hands tightened on his hips, trying to slow him down, but Jisung just moved faster, taking himself apart on Minho’s cock.
“Please..” Jisung was crying now, actual tears streaming down his face. “Please, Min..need..”
“What do you need?” Minho asked, voice rough.
“Don’t know..just you..just this..don’t want it to stop..”
Minho pulled him down into a kiss, swallowing his desperate sounds, and Jisung melted into it, still riding him but slower now.
“You’re so perfect,” Minho murmured against his lips. “So perfect like this.”
“Min..” Jisung’s rhythm was getting erratic. “I think..I think I’m gonna..”
“Come on,” Minho encouraged, one hand wrapping around Jisung’s cock, trying to help.
“One more, baby. Give me one more.”
“Can’t..” Jisung sobbed. “Can’t, it’s too much..”
“You can.” Minho thrust up to meet him. “I know you can.”
Jisung came apart completely, body seizing up, a broken sound tearing from his throat. Nothing came out but his whole body shook with the force of it, clenching around Minho rhythmically.
“That’s it,” Minho murmured. “That’s it, baby. So good for me.”
Jisung collapsed forward onto Minho’s chest, completely boneless, still making small overwhelmed sounds.
“Done,” he mumbled. “Can’t move.”
“Yeah?” Minho wrapped his arms around him. “You sure?”
“So sure.” Jisung nuzzled into his neck. “Think you actually broke me this time.”
Minho laughed softly. “Worth it?”
“So worth it.” Jisung’s voice was barely audible now. “Best decision I ever made.”
“What, riding me until you couldn’t think?”
“No. Calling you today.” Jisung pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Finally telling you.”
Minho’s chest tightened. “Yeah. Me too.”
They lay there for a long moment, Minho still inside him, both too exhausted to move.
“Min?” Jisung mumbled against his neck.
“Yeah?”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
Minho laughed softly. “That’s probably my fault.”
“Definitely your fault.” Jisung tried to lift his head and failed. “Also we’re disgusting right now.”
“Yeah, we really are.”
“Should probably… do something about that.”
“Probably.” But neither of them moved.
After another minute, Minho sighed. “Okay. Come on.”
“No,” Jisung whined. “Can’t move.”
“I know.” Minho carefully pulled out, and Jisung made a small sound at the loss. “That’s why I’m carrying you.”
“You’re not!”
But Minho was already shifting, gathering Jisung up in his arms, and Jisung made a surprised sound.
“Min..”
“Bathroom,” Minho said simply, standing up with Jisung in his arms.
Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck, head falling against his shoulder. “This is ridiculous.”
“You literally just rode me into oblivion and now you can’t walk. This is the least ridiculous part of today.”
“Fair point.”
Minho carried him into the bathroom, setting him down carefully on the counter, and Jisung immediately slumped against the mirror.
“Stay there,” Minho said.
“Not going anywhere.”
Minho turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up, and when he turned back, Jisung was watching him with soft eyes.
“What?” Minho asked.
“Nothing. Just..” Jisung smiled. “You’re taking care of me.”
“Of course I am.”
“It’s nice.” Jisung reached for him. “Come here.”
Minho stepped between his legs, and Jisung wrapped his arms around him loosely.
“Hi,” Jisung said.
“Hi.”
“That was..” Jisung stopped, searching for words. “I don’t even know how to describe what that was.”
“Intense?”
“Understatement.” Jisung laughed softly. “I think I blacked out a little bit at the end there.”
“You did seem pretty far gone.”
“I was completely gone.” Jisung’s fingers traced patterns on Minho’s back. “Never been like that before. Never wanted someone so badly I couldn’t think straight.”
Minho’s hands settled on his hips gently. “Me neither.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Minho kissed him softly. “Come on. Shower.”
He helped Jisung down from the counter, supporting him when his legs wobbled, and got them both under the warm spray.
Jisung leaned heavily against him, letting Minho do most of the work, and Minho washed them both carefully—gentle now, taking care.
“Your thighs are going to be sore tomorrow,” Minho observed, soaping them gently.
Jisung turned in his arms, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck. “We’re doing that again, right? Like, this isn’t just a one-time thing?”
“Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”
“God no.” Jisung’s expression was serious now despite his exhaustion. “I want..I want this. Want you. Want to figure out what this is.”
“Me too,” Minho said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Minho kissed his forehead. “But maybe next time we pace ourselves better.”
Jisung laughed. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“You literally can’t walk.”
“Again, worth it.”
Minho shook his head, smiling, and finished washing them both. When he turned off the water, Jisung immediately started shivering.
“Cold?”
“Freezing.” Jisung’s teeth were chattering. “And exhausted. And starving. And..”
“One thing at a time.” Minho wrapped him in a towel, then grabbed another for himself. “Dry off, then bed, then we’ll figure out food.”
“Bed sounds perfect.”
They dried off quickly, and Minho helped Jisung back to the bedroom. The sheets were definitely a mess.
“We should change these,” Jisung said, looking at the bed.
“Tomorrow.”
“They’re covered in..”
“Tomorrow,” Minho repeated firmly. “You can barely stand. We’re sleeping on top of the covers.”
Jisung crawled onto the bed and immediately collapsed. “Oh my god, lying down is amazing.”
Minho grabbed a clean blanket from the closet and spread it over them both before settling beside Jisung. Immediately, Jisung curled into him, head on his chest.
“Comfortable?” Minho asked.
“Mmm. Perfect.” Jisung was quiet for a moment.
“Min?”
“Yeah?”
“This is real, right? Like, when we wake up tomorrow, this is still real?”
Minho’s arms tightened around him. “It’s real. I promise.”
“Good.” Jisung pressed a kiss to his chest. “Because I don’t think I could go back to just being friends after this.”
We’re not going back,” Minho said firmly. “We’re figuring this out. Together.”
“Together,” Jisung repeated softly. Then, after a pause: “What are we going to tell people?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like our friends. When they ask why we’re suddenly…” Jisung gestured vaguely between them.
“Suddenly what?”
“Together. Dating. Whatever this is.” Jisung propped himself up slightly to look at Minho. “Because they’re going to notice.”
“Let them notice.” Minho pulled him back down. “We’ll tell them the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That we’ve been idiots for six months and finally figured it out.”
Jisung laughed softly. “They’re going to say they saw it coming.”
“They probably did.”
“Changbin definitely did. He kept asking me why I was being weird around you.” Jisung paused.
“What about the content though?”
“What about it?”
“The stuff we filmed today.” Jisung bit his lip. “Do you want me to delete it?”
Minho was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Do you want to post it?”
“I don’t know. It feels different now.” Jisung traced patterns on Minho’s chest. “Like it was an excuse to get here, but now that we’re here, I don’t know if I want to share it.”
“Then don’t.”
“But my subscribers..”
“Will survive without it,” Minho finished. “Jisung, if you want to keep it private, keep it private. If you want to post it, post it. But don’t do it just because you think you have to.”
Jisung was quiet for a long moment. “I think I want to keep it just for us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Today was..” Jisung’s voice went soft. “Today was special. I don’t want to share that.”
“Okay.” Minho kissed the top of his head. “Then we keep it for us.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not making me feel bad about it. For..” Jisung stopped. “For everything, I guess.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything.”
“I do though.” Jisung looked up at him. “You could’ve said no to all of this. Could’ve told me I was being crazy with the whole photographer thing.”
“I would never,” Minho interrupted. “Even if I didn’t know what you were doing, even if I thought it really was just for content I would’ve helped you. Always.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re important to me,” Minho said simply. “You have been for a long time.”
Jisung’s eyes went bright. “Min..”
“I mean it.” Minho cupped his face gently. “Best friend, boyfriend, whatever we’re calling this..you’re it for me. You have been for a while.”
“You can’t just..” Jisung’s voice cracked. “You can’t just say things like that when I’m already emotionally compromised from the best sex of my life.”
Minho laughed. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m really not.” Minho kissed him softly. “Get some sleep. We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Jisung settled back against him, and within minutes his breathing evened out into sleep. But Minho stayed awake a little longer, just holding him, thinking about everything that had changed in one day.
Six months of wanting and not saying anything, and it took Jisung faking a cancelled photographer to get them here.
They really were idiots.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand—probably one of their friends asking about plans this weekend. Minho ignored it. Whatever it was could wait.
Jisung shifted slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent, and Minho smiled despite himself. Even while asleep, Jisung was clingy.
Some things never changed.
Except now Minho could actually do something about it. Could hold him properly. Could wake up next to him tomorrow and not have to pretend it didn’t mean anything.
His phone buzzed again. Then again. Someone was persistent.
Minho carefully reached over, trying not to disturb Jisung, and grabbed it.
Three messages from Changbin.
changbin: dude where are you
changbin: we’re at the bar you said you’d meet us
changbin: jisung’s not answering either. you two together?
Shit. Minho had completely forgotten about their plans tonight.
He typed back quickly with one hand: something came up. rain check?
The response was immediate: with jisung?
Minho hesitated, then: yeah
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
changbin: FINALLY
changbin: i’m not even mad you ditched
changbin: it’s about fucking time
changbin: tell him i said congratulations on growing a pair
Minho huffed a quiet laugh. Of course Changbin knew. He’d probably known before either of them did.
minho: how did you know
changbin: dude you’ve been pathetically in love with him since that night at the bar
changbin: and he’s been even more pathetic about you
changbin: we had a betting pool on how long it would take
changbin: hyunjin just won 200 bucks btw
minho: there was a betting pool???
changbin: six months. hyunjin said halloween. he was closest
changbin: anyway have fun. use protection. don’t do anything i wouldn’t do
changbin: actually scratch that. DO do things i wouldn’t do
Minho put the phone down, shaking his head.
Their friends were terrible.But also… not wrong.
“Who’s texting?” Jisung mumbled, not opening his eyes.
“Changbin. We missed plans tonight.”
“Oh.” Jisung didn’t sound particularly concerned. “He mad?”
“No. Apparently there was a betting pool about us.”
That got Jisung’s eyes open. “What?”
“Hyunjin just won 200 bucks.”
Jisung stared at him for a moment, then started laughing—that genuine, slightly hysterical laugh that meant he found something truly absurd.
“Of course there was,” he managed between laughs. “Of course. We’re so obvious.”
“Apparently very obvious.”
“God.” Jisung buried his face back in Minho’s chest. “We really are idiots.”
“Yeah.”
“Everyone knew before we did.”
“Seems like it.”
Jisung was quiet for a moment, then: “Are you okay with that? With everyone knowing?”
“Are you?”
“I asked first.”
Minho thought about it. About walking anywhere with Jisung and not having to pretend. Not having to watch what he said or how long he looked or whether his hand lingered too long.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay with it.”
“Good.” Jisung’s fingers traced idle patterns on his skin. “Because I’m definitely telling them. Changbin’s going to be insufferable about it.”
“He’s already being insufferable about it.”
“Well, he’s about to get worse.” Jisung yawned. “Tomorrow though. Tonight I just want to sleep.”
“Deal.”
Jisung hummed contentedly and started to drift off, but then his eyes opened again.
“Wait,” he said.
“What?”
“We need to figure out what we’re calling each other.”
Minho blinked. “What?”
“Like..pet names. Boyfriend names. Whatever.” Jisung propped himself up slightly. “We can’t just keep calling each other by our names. That’s weird.”
“We’ve been calling each other by our names for years.”
“Yeah, but that was before. Now it’s different.” Jisung poked his chest. “So what do you want me to call you?”
“I..” Minho’s face went warm. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
“Liar. You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.” Jisung grinned. “Oh my god, you have thought about it. What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Min.” Jisung shifted closer, eyes bright with curiosity. “Tell me.”
Minho covered his face with one hand. “This is embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than what we just did?”
“Somehow yes.”
“Tell me,” Jisung insisted, pulling his hand away. “Come on. I promise I won’t laugh.”
Minho looked at him, at the genuine curiosity and affection in his expression, and sighed.
“Darling,” he admitted quietly.
Jisung blinked. “Darling?”
“See, I knew you’d..”
“That’s so soft,” Jisung interrupted, and his smile was impossibly fond. “You want me to call you darling?”
“Forget it..”
“No, I love it.” Jisung kissed him softly. “Darling. Yeah. I can do that.”
“You don’t have to..”
“I want to.” Jisung settled back against him. “What do you want to call me?”
“I don’t know. What do you want?”
“I asked first.”
“Baby,” Minho said after a moment. “I’ve been thinking it in my head all day anyway.”
“Baby,” Jisung repeated, testing it out. “Yeah. I like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jisung pressed a kiss to his chest. “Baby and darling. We’re disgustingly soft.”
“We really are.”
“Good.” Jisung yawned. “I’m too tired to be anything else right now anyway.”
“Sleep then.”
“Mm. Okay.” Jisung nuzzled closer. “Goodnight, darling.”
Minho’s chest tightened in the best way. “Goodnight, baby.”
Jisung smiled against his skin and finally, actually fell asleep.
Minho lay there for a while longer, listening to him breathe, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
The room was a mess. They were a mess.
Everything about today had been chaotic and impulsive and probably a terrible idea.
And Minho wouldn’t change a single thing about it.
He pressed a kiss to Jisung’s forehead and closed his eyes.
Six months of wondering what if.
Now he knew.
And it was better than anything he’d imagined.