"There," Minho shifted back in the desk chair, creaky coils squeaking miserably under the weight of his torso collapsing back into the support. His hands then moved to pause the blasting music ramped up, volume stabbing directly into the narrow channels of his ear canals as if he didn't already need a case of extreme hearing damage from anything other than the reoccurring tinnitus, headphones pulled down. Off his ears, onto the space around his neck. The padded cushions corralling the foam covered speakers brushing into his jaw and lips as he spun the chair around to face Felix relaxing on his phone (Texting his, 'Bestie', as he told Minho) in the corner of the casino's empty office space, "Let your boss know I finished your stupid fucking casino security job and—"
Wordlessly, Felix stood up, pocketed his phone, stepped over, and presented a cheque to him.
He snatched it up with a tongue stuck out to his brother. A gesture the other returned without hesitation.
Minho glanced it over.
Checked the amount.
"Do they need their data backed up? Their servers reinforced?" Minho hummed cheerfully, forcing an overly sweet grin up onto his lips. Cheeks filled up with mailable cotton balls puffing his jubilance out to the world presented, corners stapled with sheer metal prongs up to their faux height, the almost indistinguishable stench of Vaseline scrapped on his teeth to keep his cheer from shattering into a glare. Ensuring the cheque was properly written out, signature swirlfully circled from the alias of the casino's payroll officers, date dotted down to the second, he folded the cheque up and shoved it in his hoodie pocket while he rambled, "I'm a great chef, I can cook, clean— I'll lick the floors clean if that's what they want. What about toe pics? Do they take toe pics? I'll give them half off."
"Thanks for helping, stupid. I'll see you out but you can head out first," His brother told, gesturing briefly to the impromptu laptop setup on the security desk; It's tangled wires wrapped up in a mystery stomped on an enigma, a complicated mess of tangled plugs Minho quickly had to adapt, overcome, improvise with upon not having his own desktop arrangement to assist the war he waged on those codes; The lines, on lines, battlefields of landmines danced around to not trip their furious anger to a misplaced step, the breaks in defense weaknesses, chinks to slip underneath reinforced armor; Kraken-like tendrils wrapped around the electronic vessels christened for adventure. A type of world Minho loved to explore, though Felix gave a perplexed look before turning on his heel and escaping.
The older closed his laptop down, removing the various wires hooking him up to the servers with tough yanks. Next the USB plugs for the detached keyboard and stylized mouse, which, yes, he had custom made because he was simply, cool like that. Tossing all which belonged to him into his typical backpack, sorting through the information he was given by the casino when he arrived earlier that day, colorful sticky notes posted back on the security desk, scratch paper he doodled on to keep his mind occupied and his hands working while he thought crumpled up and thrown along with the chrome laptop into the compartments. He checked once more for anything he may have missed, before slinging the bag over his shoulder and charging out of the office space.
The back workings of that wonderland on the otherside of the thick walls. Compared to the fantastical realm outside these walls, this place was boring. Bland. A long hallway. Front to back. Uninteresting doors for different rooms for different employees. Bulletins for who is at what table at what time. Whiteboards for who needs to know what, who is covering what section of the drafty palace that night. Typical linoleium cleaned floors that tapped beneath his feet as he hurried to leave the uncomfortable silence of the space. Echoes from a separate dimension stayed outside the walls. Calls, chants of a pained chorus stuck in the spell the casino casted unto them like a wicked witch from a children's tale.
A place he had seen now seven times before. The first time Felix forgot his wallet and Minho had to deliver it. Another, a visit to simply poke his head around to see the true mechanisms grinding the polished floors, glittering lights, boisterous slots, refined workers, all functioning as one monstrous unit to make the seams of that beckoning costume stitch tightly up. Cracks covered. Unable to be traced. Which is where Minho came in, for the fifth now, to cover the leaking oil seeping from the machine's well-defined cogs. The servers which fed that creature with data, information, linking employee accounts, time sheets, slots throwing codes for breaking functions, the number of customers on the floor, entering, exiting, an unsettling amount of details collected all to feed right to the earpieces most of those purple silk button-ups wore.
Yes, the casino had in-house security.
But, no one did it quite like Lee Minho, according to the managers and security team.
No one did it quite like that faint ghost, ushered in, rushed out, the familiar white hoodie his coated fur announcing his presence. No one quite like, him. Jackalope. The underground hacker who absolutely was the reason their house servers kept clunking around when he snuck in to spy out of his own curiosity. What could he say? Staying at home all the time tended to get draining and he couldn't be bothered to leave.
He pressed out of the employee backrooms, a nod to a worker wandering by. A lovely woman he knew by heart from the resting bitch face and uninterested glance, but the upturn of her eyes into crescents when she was addressed. They quickly exchanged a polite smile before Minho readjusted his grip on the backpack and slipped through the iron doors to enter the casino's main floor.
As soon as the heavy doors fell locked behind him,
Minho bumped into something.
He looked around.
Then down.
To a child.
A young boy. No older than five, potentially six judging by the school uniform he wore. Barely coming up to Minho's hip. Deep blue blazer, annoying abrasive tint of a private school insignia on the lapel nearly covered up by the, bright red Mickey-Mouse backpack. Pure black bowl-cut hair and completely blank eyes devoid of clear thought process. Not a single idea in that child's head. Not a single hint of enthusiasm, cheer, nor unavoidable fear at the obvious fact he was without supervision when the hacker swiveled his gaze around to scan for any guardians only to come up empty. Without an adult standing nearby, save for Minho who accidentally bumped into the abandoned child. This boy was on his own.
"Hey...?" Minho started, words drawing back hesitantly on his tongue as the child continued to gape blankly up to him. The hacker grabbed the handle of the offensively red backpack, steering the child off to the side of the main pathway. Away from the employee door for neither of them to be hit. Away from the traffic passing by as the hours grew double, fast tosses sent to both of them. He then crouched in front of the kid, bringing him to an awkward eye-level as he scanned around the area again and tried to interrogate him, "Bud, where's your parents? Is there a... A lost and found? Or something? Did they lose you? Did you lose them? Why did they bring you here?"
The child kept staring at him.
A brunet emerged from the employee backrooms, the uneven blast from the harsh lighting cutting through the seductive dim of the casino's main floor. Minho stood up at attention to the new presence of mock royalty on the kingdom grounds, a hand still hanging tightly onto the Mickey-Mouse backpack to not allow the kid to slip away again. He was not about to have this little fucker run off. And then get lost in the crowd? Never be able to find his parents? He gets abandoned? Left behind? Has to live off Dorito crumbs in the cracks of the slot machines? Slurp up the drops of cocktails and martini's for sustenance? What if the kid starts residing in the vents? Crawling with the rats? Then what? Does the casino call a varmint exterminator? What happens to the little fucker?
"Felix?" Minho called his brother as he started to wander off, "Help me, there's a kid!"
Felix furrowed his eyebrows, turning back to him with that puzzlement slacking his jaw.
Eyes then falling down.
Going wide at the six year old.
He marched over, busying himself with clicking the microphone attached subtly to his lapel on as he announced to the other staff there was a child. Just, someone's child. Hanging out. On premises. Without a guardian. No one in sight. No identification with him. Beside the bright backpack. Stupid beady eyes now looking up at Felix while he talked.
The child turned and pointed at Minho.
"Stupid."
"Poopy pants," Minho blinked.
Felix immediately covered his face, shying away from any eyes that would recognize him, "Minho."
"What? It's fair! He's a kid, he knows the laws of the jungle," He defended himself from the clear fluster beginning to scrunch Felix from the world. The clear dusting of heat in his cheeks, concealed away by his hand covering him up, sealing him underneath a rock to never be discovered again, not until future archaeologists dug up his skeletal remains and dubbed him the 'Embarassed Man'. Knowing if he continued he would embarrass Felix more, Minho shifted back to the child staring blankly at him and crouched down again, hands behind him to steady the backpack ramming into his spine, "Listen, kid, my guy, who do you belong to? Are you microchipped?"
Success!
Felix turned away from him, both hands coming to cover up his face as he groaned, "He's not a cat, Minho. They don't microchip kids."
He would almost, almost, celebrate the fact he managed to embarrass Felix into wishing to delete both of their existences off the face of the Earth in the span of about thirty seconds, if not for the glaring fact there was a literal child lost in the center of a literal casino. Literally glaring him down with the vehemence of a model who lost their contract with a fashion brand because their shoe fell off, as if he didn't spot this stupid motherfucker and abandon his, much more interesting, plans to meet up with his current addiction that same night, to make sure the stupid child was passed off to safe hands. The no thought, empty brain of a human, who continued to have an unrivaled vacancy in his mind where a brain should be. Or, at least a hint of an emotion to prove this child wasn't a robot? Wasn't he freaked out he couldn't find his parents?
Eventually, two of the casino staff members hurried over. Two women; One of which being the familiar face he smiled to in the backrooms; The other, one he hadn't seen before or much of, dyed strawberry blonde hair pulling up into a high ponytail slicked back with coagulated spray, her uniform leaning more towards a formal suit rather than the typical silk shirt, black shorts, sheer leggings, and knee high boots the females tended to wear. Simply going off the way Felix, the basgard, dipped his head to her in a bow, Minho guessed she was someone important. On-site manager or something of the type. Who cares what the exact title was, point is, she came and talked with the child.
To which, the child replied to her with stammering mumbles over a poor lisp.
Instead of staring and calling her stupid.
As they watched the two staff escort the child away, the bright red Mickey Mouse backpack bouncing along as he held tightly on to the manager, Felix bumped their shoulders together, "Are you sure it isn't yours and you're trying to ditch it?"
"Oh, sorry, Lix, yeah. By the way, I didn't wrap my willy when I did the silly and had a child! WHOOPS! My bad!" Minho guffawed, voice beginning to break into snorts as he watched his brother's expression contort, "I'm so glad I could finally tell you?"
Felix hummed, "He's cute, what's his name?"
"General Child. I'm planning to amass a small army of them."
"You should never be a father."
"That's what I'm saying! Can you imagine? Me?" Minho finally broke into a throaty laughter, the younger joining in with his own chuckles beneath his breath. He quickly fished his phone from his pocket, peeling it out as he checked the time. And promptly began to panic. His own noises squashing out of his throat as he watched the seconds tick down, steps beginning to roll in time to their beats teasing the back of his mind, "I have to get going, but, will poopy head be okay?"
"We'll take care of him and make sure he finds his parents. Thanks for noticing him," Felix quirked the corner of his lips up in a smile. He shoved the older away as he told, "Drive safely. And, love you."
Minho rolled his eyes, shoulders deflating and steps dragging away, "Ugggghhhhhhhh."
"Say it back!"
"No!"
When Minho stepped outside of those front doors, the cool air of the night hour greeting him in their vibrant embrace, the concrete below his steps illuminated by the casino behind him, he sprinted. Hustling faster than he ever had in his life, dusk breeze freezing his cheeks over, huffing and panting as he ran as fast as an Olympic sprinter, trembling with the pure excitement beginning to flush through him. The one thing he had been looking forward to that entire week since he received the text. And the follow-up that morning, ensuring they were both comfortable with the day and hour they settled on. The hour, quickly approaching, nipping him on the heels as he dashed to find his car in the needlessly huge parking lot, backpack slamming into him as he refused to slow down.
He found the vehicle. Threw the backpack and his headphones in the trunk. Ripped open the door. Settled down. Pressed the car on. Checked his phone for any texts from that beautiful man beside the few exclaiming his own elated nerves.
First things first, Jisung lived extremely close-by. Still within the city, though he lived closer to the outskirts. The more posh area of the tall residential buildings. Around fifteen minutes from Chan's house. Minho sent a text to Chan and Changbin to turn on their family location app in case he needed help. Yes, they used an app to turn on and track each other's locations for these types of cases, and yes, they forced Changbin to make a few too many fast food stops whenever they saw him nearby one or made Chan take selfies with nearby landmarks such as a fancy trash can, whenever he was on tour with his band.
They may have been a horny idiots but they weren't stupid.
The three of them made that mistake a long time ago when Changbin was temporarily "kidnapped" for 48 hours. A.K.A, drove to another city to get himself a coffee because his favorite café closed down and the only other location was on the other side of the country.
Or, maybe he was stupid. Driving nearly forty minutes to another end of the city to maybe sleep with a hot guy he barely knew was pretty fucking stupid. Possibly the dumbest thing he's ever done.
Eh. Who cares, Minho thought to himself as he navigated into the city's freeway, following the GPS navigator through the towering buildings dwarfing him to a pinpoint on the scale of the universe. A speck in the ballroom of spirits and deities, barely swerving between their stomping feet matching time with the trill of violins for their waltz, hands firmly on the steering wheel propelling him through the night. The speakers of his car blasting whatever song was most recently escaping from his playlist. Some pop song that recently charted, infused with a rap section halfway through, and despite the song not being out for very long, him murmuring the lyrics to himself as he switched lanes. Feeling vaguely like a street racer [A/N: HA] while he pressed the gas pedal harder.
Life is short and kind of sucks.
His lips quirked into a grin to himself.
I might as well enjoy it.
Enjoy it in all it's strange, eccentric ways. How it tended to be this boring, uninterested, mesh of gray colors from day to day. The joy which dimmed out from lights above in their neutral placidity, neither grinning nor frowning at his existence in the world. Morning to night, the hours which slipped away from his hands burning up into ash. That same uninteresting drone of freckled hues, monotonous, anticlimactic.
But, occasionally, how there were whispers. Wonderland on a halcyon voice. Speaking softly to him, beckoning. Come to me. Each of those words slipped into his ear by tempting lips, pressing a hand to his chest, shoving him until he fell down, down, and down farther into their mystical song. Their notes, tone, glowing vibrant as that blended blur found their own voices again. Colors of the midnight, of fingertips on skin, sunlight peeling through the windows at dawn, the scent of a fresh cup of coffee, the earthy tone of rain while it falls, the contentment with simply living. Experiencing the lights above as they bled to neon, as they burned into his skin. Ash which glimmered, falling to fireflies guiding him through a hazy path to secrets hidden within another's heart.
Soon enough, that lit path tugging his hand forward, leading him through a wildfire that raged around him. Bringing him down the streets, roads, through the cityscape breaking away to the clean corner of the residential areas, to an apartment stacked in the sky. Inside, keying in the passcode Jisung texted him locking the doors, to the front desk, to the elevator where he had to press in another string of numbers for it to light-up and activate, the fireflies tingling and tickling his skin with anticipation as he watched the floors ticking up;
First,
Second,
Third,
Fourth,
Slowly,
Higher.
Until the doors opened to a hallway. A pathway escorting him where the fireflies abandoned him for the throbbing of his heart and the clamming of his skin now having second doubts about what the hell he was actually doing. Marching down the apartment's sheer walls, swabbed cleaned to a certain perfection, carpets below freshly vaccumed and spotless. Scrunching underneath his unsure step bringing him forward as he double-checked the number on his phone. Nearly slipping out of his palms collecting with sticky sweat. Nearly unable to press on the icons as they trembled gently. Though he wasn't entirely sure if the shakes were coming from an impatient expectancy, or from a complete terror as the reality began to settle into his twitching muscles.
What the fuck.
He was, actually, standing in front of an unfamiliar doorway. In an unfamiliar apartment. In an unfamiliar part of the city he had only been to once. In an unfamiliar world. Staring down an unfamiliar carpet, unfamiliar walls. Unfamiliar number on the apartment's door. This whole situation, unfamiliar. Weird. Strange. Why did he agree to this?
What if Jisung is actually a murderer?
He wandered down the hallway.
What if he's trying to kidnap me? I guess that's why we have the tracking app and emergency contacts.
Approached the door with the correct number.
What if he catfished me? Is that even possible when I've seen him fuck himself on his fingers?
Minho nodded to himself.
That's some impressive technology, I wouldn't even be mad at that point.
He looked at the door looming in front of him. Hesitating.
But what if—
He raised his hand and knocked.
Then proceeded to look at it in horror.
WHY DID YOU DO THAT?
He grabbed his wrist, shaking his hand as he let out a silent scream.
WHY? I NEEDED A FEW SECONDS TO PROCESS.
His palm smacked into his forehead.
I'm an idiot, oh my god. This is so stupid. I drove, forty minutes, to the opposite end of the city to get ass. This is so fucking dumb, you're so fucking dumb, Lee Minho, you're an idiot, you're a dumbass, you're so stupid, holy shit, this is the dumbest thing you've ever done and you've done some dumb shit in your life. Remember when you burned your hand because you made a flamethrower out of hairspray and a lighter? Remember when you stole a shopping cart with Changbin and got arrested for it? Dumber than both of those. Dumber than anything else you've done. For what? Because you're desperate? Are you that desperate? Are so desperate you go to these stupid lengths you stupid manwhore? Huh? Is that what this is? Are you Chan? Are you Changbin now? They're worse then you, yet they've never been this stupid just to sleep with someone.
Minho looked at his palm for a moment.
Wait, no, didn't Cha—?
The door to the apartment opened.
Albeit, very slowly. It peeled back as Minho dropped his hand to face it. To face the reality and consequences of his actions.
Then stopped as a thin crack. Large enough to slip a hand through.
Two eyes popped into the break. Stacked on top of one another, the owner of them, head tipped over to the side.
Those eyes...
Fuck.
He had seen them in photographs from the doxxing posts. He saw them in video calls, multiple times before, bright, bubbly, glimmering with a faint excitement and softened with an adoration. As if he was completely enamored. Deathly in love on a summer afternoon, the warm sunlight bearing down on him, on milky skin, kissed gently by bumblebees believing him to be the honey dropped scent of a flower. But how those eyes narrowed too, dimming down to tempting purrs fluttering his eyelids, hands pressed hard, clutching at a blanket beneath him, a siren's call devouring him bit by bit, the gaze eating him up alive. Though at the moment they leaned more toward the former.
He had seen them before.
But nothing could prepare him for how stunning those eyes were in the real world.
Realizing both of them had been staring for a few silent seconds, Minho forced the hitched breath from his throat. Summoning every bit of willpower he had remaining in his draining body. He tilted his head to the side too, working his lips into a smile, "Jisung?"
The eyes blinked at him. Gawking, nearly popping out of their sockets as they continued to stare him down from that slit.
Slowly, a hand outstretched.
And poked his chest.
"Hi? It's nice to meet you too?" Minho watched the fingers prod and touch the center of his chest, snorting softly as they pushed him a bit.
Until those eyes loosened even more.
The hand pulled back as a faint voice whispered, "You're real?"
Oh my god.
Minho scrunched his expression up, biting the back of his lips as he resisted the urge to scream.
That fucking voice.
How could he even begin to describe it? Now hearing it, standing face to face with it's owner instead of over the electronic barrier blocking them off.
Now knowing it's fullness, the true depth to his words and intonations. The smallest spoken words sending chills through his spine, a cold warmth that melted his heart in his chest and sputtered his breath trying to desperately catch up to him. That voice of sunlight, suddenly so much more; Sunlight reflecting off a crystalline glass onto the floors of a polished building, sunlight breaking through treetops in the heat of an unbearable winter frost covering the land with ice, warming up any who saw it's rays, sunlight at dawn, at dusk, after rain, through fog, in the dark. Sunlight waiting at the end of a never-ending nightmare. Sunlight on blowing desert sand, rare grains of safflower gold swept across the hills, dips of troughs like his hips, his waist, falling breaths through his lungs.
Fucking beautiful.
So, fucking, beautiful.
He didn't even know it was possible to love someone for their voice, yet here he was. Swooning as soon as the other's words came to his ears.
"I hope I'm real?" Minho uttered again to the eyes, straightening himself up from the tipped position like a the breaking trunk of a leaning tree. The ache in his back and spine announcing to him he probably shouldn't be looking like a boomerang. He stepped back a bit, offering the younger distance as he murmured, "Oddly enough this isn't the strangest greeting I've been given."
"Oh, sorry! Um... You can... You can come in," The voice came again in those gentle stammers.
The eyes slipped away, and the door opened a little wider for him.
Minho hesitated. Tipping forward on his toes a bit. Scanning over the entrance, the light of the apartment behind the door, Jisung holding the door open for him.
Should he?
He nibbled on the back of his lip.
Waiting a beat more.
Fuck it.
Minho gradually pressed off from his spot in the hallway and slipped inside the threshold of the apartment.
The door closed behind him, the faint sunlight murmuring underneath his breath, "I can do this."
As he shifted.
As he turned to face that beautiful man.
His head kept tipped down to his hands, slowly tapping the pads of them together as he looked at Minho from that shrugged posture.
The same maliable, puffed out cheeks that looked beyond perfect to caress. To hold in his palm. To circle his thumb against. To admire. The groomed and smooth, yet billowy strands of midnight hair shaking gently as his head kept down, flowing neatly between his eyes. How gratifying those threads would feel between his fingers. Soothing. Relaxing. A poison that could tranquilize the hardest nightmares into a deep sleep. Silky strands reflecting with the apartment's lighting. The plump lips, gently rubbing and bitten beneath his teeth in the nerves shimmering in his eyes. Their pillowy cushion bliss to rest on, rest with, pressed with butterfly pecks. Almost a sin to simply touch. To simply, love.
The body too. The same he saw on the webcam; Slim, perfect skin unmarked and covered in moles scattered around his neck. A tiny waist, covered up by the big paws gobbled underneath the massive sweater holding him. The collar hanging loosely off of him. Incredibly adorable. Never before had Minho wanted to simply reach out and give the biggest hug of someone's life. Just, wrap them in his arms with lots of cuddles and warmth. He looked like he deserved a big hug. A massive hug.
Suddenly, he didn't even give a shit if they did anything or not. As long as he was able to get the green light to sweep him up in a hug by the end of the night, could 100% not care if they went farther than that.
Minho scanned him over one more time and sucked in a sharp breath, "Fuck, you're beautiful."
"Says you? You're so much more stunning standing here, you look like a piece of art, and, your eyes, I've never..." Jisung stammered out around a choking breath, his hands moving to caress his own flushing cheeks as he raked hid eyes over Minho for the umpteenth time in the few moments they stood facing one another. Soft movements. Gentle, trained, demure, damn addicting to watch him. He peeled his hands away with another audibly hitched breath, wobbling a bit toward him, "I'm sorry, I... I guess I'm a bit shy now that you're in front of me."
Minho took him in again, tracing his outline in his gaze. How adorable he was in actuality. The slight wiggle of his shoulders, the shy smile and lip bites that came from him him as he tried to take in as much of the older as he was able to. How Minho himself wanted to just pull him into a hug, pull him into a kiss, hold his hand, embrace him, but knowing he shouldn't. He shouldn't, and he couldn't, unless Jisung explicitly stated that was what he wanted. As if to reflect that, hope it came across to the camboy, Minho tucked his hands into his back pockets and stepped back. Adding back that distance to comfort him, "Listen, I had a weird day. I'm cool with sitting on the couch and talking for as long as you want. I'm cool with leaving too if you're uncomfortable."
Jisung lurched forward, grabbing onto his arm as his eyes went wide with a pleading glimmer, "No! No. No, please stay."
They both glanced down to where he held.
A type of fire dancing on Minho's skin with the gentle hold.
The camboy immediately let go, bringing his hands back in to tap their pads together. More of that soft smile on his lips as he rocked on his feet, "I just... I need to get used to someone being in front of me."
Minho offered a nod and his own upturn of his lips to the younger, more of those breathless hitches filling the silence of the air between them.
He and Jisung did eventually settle on the couch; After their moments of awkward silence and shifting between one another, fidgets and fumbled as their eyes kept raking. Scanning. Taking in. Devouring. Eating the other alive, beginning to know who they were through the lenses of their eyes. Instead of the lenses of their camera. Barely managing to break free when Jisung offered him water and a piece of cheesecake to nibble on while they talked. Guaging whether or not the younger would poison him with either, Minho agreed. Who was he to turn down a pretty boy offering cheesecake? Plus, his decision was only reinforced when Jisung also grabbed himself some cheesecake.
The whole time while he did, Minho didn't bother to scan over the apartment. Didn't bother to scan the area, where he was, what it looked like. Instead focused on Jisung. Jisung as he sauntered by, tiny hands as sweater paws bundled by his sides. Jisung as he slipped into his kitchen. Jisung as he came back, offered the plate and glass of water. Jisung as he cuddled up on the couch. Tucked with his knees against his chest, hands hugged around the legs as his back rested against the armrest. Jisung as he slipped the cheesecake into his lips while they chatted casually with one another.
As casually as it could be with one of them pausing randomly to stare and gawk.
There was just...
Something.
Something that kept Minho hazy with a type of uncontrollable intoxication. Something that kept his mind drunk, high off the ecstacy of the other sitting across from him. Something that kept drawing his eyes up, kept drawing him around, wanting to learn as much of Jisung as he was able to while they tried to familiarize themselves. As they tried to keep talking through the thick tension beginning to pleasantly suffocate him.
After the other asked about his hacking work, Minho swallowed down the chunk of cheesecake he took and shrugged,"Well. I don't know, it's my hobby. I'm just glad I can use my hobby to make a paycheck? It's my life. What about you? Why the camboy work?"
Quiet.
Nothing but a silence.
Minho glanced up from his cheesecake, to Jisung.
To Jisung, looking at him with a slight part in his lips, a slight dizziness to his fluttering eyes.
To Jisung, shamelessly staring at his lips.
Minho called, "Love."
Jisung startled, looking back up to him, "Hm?"
"Where are you looking?"
"You're really handsome, Bunny. Really, very, very handsome," The camboy mumbled timidly, moving to set his plate of cheesecake down on the glass coffee table with a resonant click. He collapsed back to the couch, head falling to the support of the couch, knees knocking into the cushions as he relaxed. A light sigh deflating him entirely as he again dragged his eyes over Minho. Head to toe, every trace from the gaze tickling chills across the older's skin, "It's hard to not look at you."
They settled as they were, frozen in that quiet moment.
A kind of look coming to the camboy's eyes that put Minho deeper into that trance. That mystifying hypnosis, the same feeling as if he was suspended on a high.
Minho slowly set his own plate down on the coffee table, allowing the moment the motion gave him to take Jisung in. Take in his hair, how desperately he wanted to run his fingers through that hair. His waist, how he wanted to wrap his arms around the dip, keep him tight in an embrace, keep him desperately in a powerful hold, gripping his hips. His eyes, how he could sit there, staring at them for hours, become lost within their sea. Become lost within their beauty. His lips, how kissable they looked, beautiful to rest on beautiful to become a part of, locking in to their patterns.
How he kept biting the soft muscles, holding them in the dents of his teeth.
His lips look soft.
Minho allowed the daze in his mind to take over the other. To bring him into his head, to memorize him.
To imprint him on his skin forever.
He's attractive too.
With his permission, how he could worship that beauty.
Alluring, and divine. Like he's a deity. A god.
Jisung slowly set his hands on the couch cushions, eyes growing with a wild swirl inside their grip. Slowly crawling closer.
His hand found it's way to Minho's chest, tracing over him until the older grabbed the soft hand within his own and pressed him in.
I want to fall into deeply into the hold he has on me.
Bringing him in, hand to his puffy cheeks.
Bringing him in, a breath cascading down his lips.
I want to sin with you, love.
For a moment, hesitating.
Lingering in the proximity.
So when I leave, I can tell all the other sinners,
Jisung pulled him in, hesitation leaving as he crashed their lips together.
How close I got to paradise.
《↑⇄↸↻⇂↬↖》
This is the fastest kiss I've ever written
And guys, it's okay, this has a happy ending. Trust me, Minho won't die
_(._.)_