On Track | MINSUNG

38

When Jisung came running down the corridor, Minho knew he was done for. Jisung dropped his bag and practically threw himself at Minho, and he stumbled back as he caught Jisung.

Jisung's hands were everywhere: in Minho's hair, his shoulders, tugging at the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. Their mouths collided in a rush, and within seconds Jisung deepened the kiss, sighing into Minho's mouth.

Minho's heart raced. He'd hoped for this reaction, hoped Jisung would be swept up by his performance. He walked Jisung backwards until he hit the wall, pressing him against it.

Jisung bit Minho's bottom lip, sucking it as Minho pressed his hips into Jisung's. Minho really liked this side of Jisung, all needy and in control, but he wondered how long it would last.

Minho broke the kiss to breathe, Jisung already chasing his lips. Minho let him capture his lips again, groaning into the kiss. Needing him closer, Minho hiked Jisung's leg up, grinding against him.

Jisung's fingers slid into Minho's hair, tugging on the strands as he pushed his hips into Minho's. He whined into Minho's mouth, nipping at his lip.

'Jisung,' Minho gasped. He needed to be closer, needed to unwrap Jisung like a present and have him dripping between his fingers. Desire flooded his system, like someone had given him a drug and it was only now just hitting his bloodstream.

Minho felt high off his performance, but really, he was high off Jisung. Hadn't his entire performance been about Jisung? And now, he had Jisung right here, but it wasn't enough. Minho needed him closer, closer, closer. And they couldn't do that here, in a hallway of a school that they didn't even go to.

'Home,' Minho gasped. 'Jisung, let's go home.'

He put Jisung's leg down, pulling himself away. But he couldn't quite bring himself to pull his eyes from Jisung. Jisung's cheeks were flushed, his hair messy and lips parted, slightly swollen.

Minho's heart skipped a beat. They hadn't even had sex yet and Jisung already looked ruined.

Minho ran into the dance studio to the adjoining changing rooms to grab his bag, rushing back to where Jisung hovered outside the studio door.

Jisung pressed himself to Minho almost instantly, attaching his mouth to Minho's neck. Minho groaned, tangling his hand in Jisung's hair.

'Jisung, sweetheart,' Minho gasped. 'We should go.'

It took them longer than usual to get to the bus stop, stopping frequently to kiss against whatever surface was available. They were kissing when the bus pulled up, the sound startling them apart.

The moment they were sat down in the far back corner, Jisung was leaning into Minho again, angling his head for a kiss. Minho put his hand on Jisung's upper thigh, rubbing slow circles.

Normally, Minho wouldn't even think about kissing like this in public, especially after their last bus ordeal. But there were only three other people sat towards the front, and God was Minho hard.

He gently took Jisung's chin, tilting his head up. Jisung let out a little noise, and Minho shushed him before capturing his mouth. Jisung deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue into Minho's mouth, not even giving Minho an opportunity to take control. Not that Minho particularly wanted to, because dominant Jisung was quickly becoming his favourite thing.

Jisung pulled Minho closer with a hand fisting the collar of his shirt. Minho leaned into him, his hand going to Jisung's waist. Minho almost felt like he was free falling, drowning in everything that was Jisung and drowning in everything that wasn't Jisung. It was like the ground was unsteady, threatening to cave in beneath his feet at any moment, and never in his life had Minho wanted the ground to collapse so much. Cave in, suck him in, take him wherever--so long as it was with Jisung, so long as he didn't have to stop kissing Jisung.