On Track | MINSUNG

60

The drive back home was the longest drive of Minho's life. He sat in the back with Jisung; Jisoo and Officer Jung talked idly between themselves, everyone making a point not to talk to Minho about what had happened at Yoonchun's.

True to his word as always, Jisung had brought Minho food. He handed over a zip lock bag with a sandwich in, and Minho took it gratefully. 'Thank you so much.'

Jisung smiled. 'It's chicken, cheese and lettuce.'

'Thank you,' Minho repeated, already opening the bag.

He ate his sandwich fairly quickly, not realising just how hungry he was until he took the first bite. He was still hungry once he'd finished, but he didn't want to upset Jisung by saying so if the sandwich was all he'd brought.

'I brought cake, as well,' Jisung said.

'Cake?'

'Yeah. When I said I'd make you cake for when you came home, I meant it. I made a chocolate cake. Here.' Jisung pulled another baggie from the lunchbag at his feet.

There was a slice of cake in the baggie, surprisingly not even mushed. The icing was stuck to the bag, but Minho just ate the cake out of the bag. It was much better than shop-bought cake, fudgy and sweet with a hint of coffee, and Minho grinned. 'Jisung, you need to make cake more often. This is so good.'

Jisung blushed. 'I'm glad. I thought we could, like, maybe make brownies or something together? Like, not now, obviously, but in a few days.'

Minho leaned in to Jisung, taking his chin between his thumb and index finger to kiss his cheek. 'Of course, sweetheart,' Minho murmured.

Jisung turned his face so their lips brushed, and Minho was struck by how long it'd been since they'd kissed, an overwhelming urge to kiss Jisung until they were breathless surging through him.

Minho pressed his lips to Jisung's, Jisung's hand flying up to grab Minho's shirt immediately. God, Minho had forgotten just how soft Jisung's lips were, and just how good they felt pressed against his.

Jisung parted his lips, and Minho stroked his tongue into his mouth, sliding his hand into Jisung's hair. Minho's tongue explored Jisung's mouth, relearning the curves of it. 

It was strange, to be kissing Jisung like this, Minho leaning over and the seatbelt digging into his neck. But he was kissing Jisung nonetheless, and that was a massive improvement to what he'd been doing this time last night.

Minho wasn't sure if Jisoo could see them in the mirrors, so he pulled away. Minho wondered how nice it would be to fuck Jisung in a car, lay him over the back seats and rut into him. But he didn't know where he'd get a car from, because Jisoo sure as hell wouldn't let Minho borrow hers, so Minho stored the thought away for another time, some time in the future.

Jisung still clutched Minho's shirt, and Minho held out his hand. Jisung took it, and Minho wished he'd sat in the middle seat so he could cuddle into Jisung. But there'd be plenty of time for cuddling when they got home, when they could lie in bed and kiss and talk and exist together again.

* * *

By the time they shut Minho's bedroom door for the night, he was beyond exhausted. After being in a constant state of fight or flight for days, his body ached with a tiredness that sat heavy in his muscles. Minho was desperate for bed, and so utterly touch starved that he was impacient as Jisung put pyjamas on.

Minho had changed quickly, and laid in bed watching Jisung. He reached out to brush his fingers over Jisung's hip, but Jisung batted his hand away.

'If you keep touching me, it'll take me longer to get ready,' Jisung told him, pulling pyjamas bottoms on. They were Minho's; Jisung frequently just took Minho's clothes now, even wearing his underwear. They practically shared a wardrobe at this point, and Minho couldn't have been happier.