Forewarning: They get a lil hot by the end, but it stops before anything happens
Jisung
Love
Jisung
are you around?
im sorry
really, im really sorry
11:13 pm
i made you some cookies
11:14 pm
theyre chocolate chip
11:15 pm
i wasnt sure what you would like
i don't know if you like cookies
if you don't want to meet me again i understand
11:16 pm
but
11:17 pm
if you still want the cookies i can send them to you
11:18 pm
if that's okay
11:19 pm
Jisung
What the hell?
That's so cute Bunny (*_*;
Of course I want to see you!!!
11:20 pm
Will you be free soon? ( ･ั﹏･ั)
11:21 pm
how soon are you thinking?
11:22 pm
Jisung
Welllllllllll
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm
11:23 pm
If you're open to it?
11:24 pm
I'm free right now? v(*^^)v
11:25 pm
Minho launched himself out of his desk chair, narrowly dodging a face plant straight into his bedroom's carpet and Gummy hell-bent on tripping him from dancing circles around his ankles as he scurried for the door. Swiping up the first jacket his hands could land on, his car keys, his wallet, his medicine, choking it down with the first thing he grabbed from the refrigerator, the tangy taste of ketchup now staining his tongue as he slammed the door close, grabbed the tupperware of freshly baked cookies steaming inside the plastic off the counter, and readied himself to disappear in a matter of seconds.
Already starting to leave the apartment.
Then stopped.
Sprinted back to his room, dived toward his keyboard, and typed in,
omw
11:28 pm
Jisung
See you soon
(･ิω･ิ)
11:28 pm
With a swift kick to the power button, his computer shut off.
In a matter of three minutes, Minho was gone. Lost. Given up. Dove off the deep end and couldn't come back because weights were wrapped around his ankles so tight his feet lost feeling. Took the plunge into a gorge of fiery pits, buffed spikes, and slithering snakes with nothing but a parachute without the chutes to catch him. Threw caution to the wind and watched as the shreds of common sense were blown off like leaves in the autumn breeze, laughing softly as they left him standing in a field. Took the bull by the horns, realized the bull didn't have the horns attached to his head, climbed on top of the bull, and rode the animal out to whatever green pastures it decided to take him to. Bit the bullet of his poor decisions, swallowed it, realized it tasted kind of nice, and then decided to chew on another.
All because he hadn't been in a stable relationship for more than three weeks in the past two years, and the only company he had was hand, maybe a hook-up if he was lucky? But when was the last time that happened? Four months ago? Five???? Yes! Exactly! Lee Minho was a guy, a human, with needs, with horny needs! And a very attractive man he sorely fucked up with is willing to give him a second chance. Either the world finally decided to play in his favor, or something was about to quickly go wrong, and either way he was not about to pass the opportunity up. Life was too short to care and worth about futures that may or may not inevitably happen.
All that mattered was the steering wheel in his hands directing him back to the camboy's apartment, the buckle of the gas petal beneath the soles of his sneakers pressing down, the promise of trying again on a new day in a new night for his dumb brain to not screw it up again. The stretch of highway that led to freeway onramps, guiding him back to a forbidden wonderland on the other side of the metropolis they called home above the burrowing tunnels of trains and transit lines taking them far, far away. The stars which dotted the midnight sky, washed away with the glow of bank buildings and high-rise apartments elsewhere. Anywhere but here. The smooth of the air-conditioner filtering over his skin and the music blasting notes over the car's speakers giving him a lightweight glide to settle into a parking spot, and dash out of the vehicle. Grabbing up all he may have needed.
Plus the cookies in the passenger seat. Can't forget the cookies.
"Okay, rematch," Minho complained to himself as he hustled down the apartment's hallway, having keyed in the various codes as if they were second nature, the brief moments passing by like a flash in his eyes. The chocolate chip cookies packaged neatly in his tupperware contained tucked beneath his arm. The other free to flail around in time with his words as he stormed past the doorways. His mouth running about as fast as his mind, thoughts sprinting as fast as his tongue, the brain in his skull complaining about it's own failures as it lectured his brain, "You took your drugs. You're fine. If you freak out again, I won't be happy. You and I both want the same thing, clearly. You're attracted to him, I'm attracted to him. What a coincidence! So help me out. Got it? Got it. I'm glad we're in understanding you useless chunk of tapioca pudding."
He stopped in front of the familiar doorway. The polished numbers announcing he sought out the correct unit.
His hand fisted up, raising to knock.
Then hesitated.
What if he doesn't actually want this?
Minho dropped his hand again.
Am I being too forcing? Eager? Creepy?
He untucked the cookie container, holding it delicately in his hands as he stared at the chocolate chips gawking back at him.
I mean, I don't really know this guy. Anything I feel for him is purely physical. It's a physical attraction, nothing else, so am I objectifying him? Maybe that fuck up was the universe's way of giving me a red flag and saying I should back the fuck down and I, like the absolute gigachad genius I am, chose to ignore it because I'll maybe get the chance to sleep with a cute guy after being touch starved for who knows how long. Am I being too insistent? What if he's only agreeing to this because he's a camboy? What if he's forcing himself? Damn it, I don't want that, I want to hook-up with him, but I want him to enjoy it too? What happens if he doesn't? What happens if I'm coming across as too forward? It's not like I haven't seen done sex calls with him, but it's different when it's face to face. It's so much more intimate. What if...
Minho felt himself freeze up.
WHAT IF I DEVELOP ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR HIM AND FALL IN LOVE WHEN WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE FUCK BUDDIES NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—
The door to the apartment swung open.
Minho's gaze snapped up. Taking in the sight of the door ripped wide open, Jisung in entrance with a hand on the threshold and the other on the knob. Gentle puffs, a quirk of his lips upward, that glimmering look in his eyes that made the older's knees go weak.
But...
The hacker stammered in shock, "I didn't... I didn't even knock?"
"I know, I'm sorry. I was waiting for you," Jisung bubbled up, the upturn of his lips faltering as he bit back the subtle grin wishing to push through in the shimmery eyes and slight bounce in his feet. Teeth nibbling down into his bottom lip. Eyes nibbling down too, gently biting in the older as he looked him over. Probably judging him with the drooping of his gaze and the softening of the grip on his doorframe; The stupid last-minute outfit he was in, some messy concoction of black pants and a black T-shirt that fit him tighter than he remembered. Gaze lingering on his chest, his biceps, his thighs, before he found the cookies. Immediately, a soft gasp chasing his breath as he opened the door for him wider and fixated on the sweet treat, "Come inside, please."
That's what she said.
Minho simpered to himself at the poor joke as he pressed off from the hallway and entered the apartment.
Which, now that he was in a clearer state of mind compared to where he was a few nights ago, realized was nice. The whole space was evidently expensive. In the large living room greeting him as soon as he stepped in the threshold, the entire space lowered a few steps from a laminated wooden walkway onto recently vacuumed carpet, in the clean yet sweet scent of verdure honeydew that reminded him vaguely of Jisung, it's intoxicating smell drizzling from the crème painted walls plastered with various paintings to liven the atmosphere with their hues, the theme of apricot orange and emerald green blending in to the honeyed fairy lights strung up along the walls illuminating the cozy space. A small divot conected to the wooden walkway, that led to one room, another adjacent, plus another portal on the other side of the apartment by the kitchen leading who knows where.
Though Minho had the meager thought he would be finding out soon enough.
As Minho heard the doorway close behind him, he whipped back around to Jisung.
The younger hunched slightly forward in his rounded shoulders, hands fidgeting together while he stared down to them. Knuckles pressing into knuckles, rolling and stretching his fingers against their webbing to match the shifting of his feet.
A sudden tension occupying the older as he watched the nervous fumbling.
A sudden guilt that slapped him in the face and called him an idiot for running off without an explanation to him.
Then again, they didn't really know one another.
And if be couldn't tell his closest friends about himself for fear they would leave, he knew they would leave that's who they were, how was he supposed to tell this man he barely knew beyond what his body could give him? Beyond how he could satiate his desires with pleasure.
"I'm sorry," Minho started in an instant. He stepped forward closer into the younger as he fixed his grip on the chocolate chip cookies. Fingertips digging down into the plastic beneath their touch, seeking a comfort out in the harsh reality it offered back to him. Unforgiving, unbucking, not giving to the press of his fingertips to protect the sweltering heat radiating from inside wrapped up in careful wax papers to keep the desserts from sticking together. Trying to inch into the faint presence of summer time honey softly oozing in front of him as he swallowed down the firm regret grasping onto him, "I... I really am sorry, love. I thought I'd be free for you and just..."
Jisung shifted again on his feet. His gaze training down, somewhere to the wooden floors beneath them, then to the space in front of him as he angled into the older as well. The closing of proximity between them allowing Minho the liberty of finding the slight scar on his ear, seeing the faint moles on his collarbones and neck like stars in closer detail, relish in the infection of the younger's scent on his mind. The camboy uttered through his perfect lips "Family stuff."
"Family things," Minho confirmed with a timid nod casting him down. Away. Away with the mild wash of shame flushing the tips of his ears and the clenching of his hands knowing Jisung shouldn't forgive him for being an idiot. Reason or no reason, ataxia or no ataxia, he should have at least attempted to give some kind of understandable excuse instead of a sudden 'Oops, gotta go'. Of course Jisung would be fidgeting. Of course he would be anxious, changing weight from one foot to the other, pulling on his fingers and splaying them wide as if they were a lilypad for his hopping nerves to rest against. Of course, he probably feels entirely as if it's his fault. As if he did something wrong. Rather than it being Minho's own brain wanting to turn against him at any opportunity it felt like doing so.
He glanced down, to Jisung's massive hoodie that dwarfed him and white sweatpants. And to the baby blue hearts trailing up and down the side of his leg on said white sweatpants.
His mind screamed,
OH MY GOD THAT'S SO CUTE???
No, no, Minho. Be serious. Not the time. Calm. CALM. Calm down. He's—
Jisung looked up, and smiled at him.
Minho's brain short circuited.
"It's okay, it happens. Family is important to take care of," The camboy jiggled his shoulders a bit, his grin growing almost forcefully despite it's insistence. The expression trained. Plastered. The kind of mask one would wear after seeing the noise of a lover who cheated on them spouting lies to validate their behavior. The kind of mask that grinned but didn't reach the wrinkle in his eyes, didn't shine as brightly as the sunlight warmth he glowed as. Jisung pressed off from his spot, a hand reaching out to touch Minho's arm as he passed by, "You don't have to tell me what it was, but, did it all work out?"
"Uhh, yeah. Yeah, it should be fine for a while," The hacker ignored the spark of electricity that thundered in his arm at the other's touch. Shoving it off, kicking it to the back of his mind as he clutched the cookies tighter and shuffled after wherever Jisung was wandering to, "How about you? Are you okay?"
The younger stopped in his tracks. Turning back to him with a puzzled tilt of his head and another grin that seemed acted, "Yes? Why wouldn't I be?"
"If I upset you, by suddenly running off without much of an explanation, it wasn't fair for me to do," Minho adjudicated at the other's question. Pressing on the button that may have left Jisung upset, and knowing he nailed the exact reason when the younger's plastered grin slowly fell down. Slowly peeling away to a tenderness in his eyes and a looseness in his jaw that locked him up. Almost, stunned at the disarmament of what was bothering him. The hacker took in that awaiting expression a moment more, fidgeting with the tupperware as he admitted, "I understand if you're mad at me, you have every right to be, but I want to just... You... You know."
Minho glanced down to the cookies.
He untucked them from where he held the container against his body, presenting the handmade treats out to the younger.
His head tipping down as he murmured the soft, "I want you to know that it's not your fault. I want to make sure that's clear."
For a moment, only a silence met him.
The unmoving sound of his own heartbeat throbbing as it begged to be forgiven.
The sudden hitch in breath from the camboy's chest.
Minho winced at the noise as it stabbed a pain through him.
It must have bothered him more than I thought it would.
Eventually, the white legs of the sweatpants and the adorable little blue hearts peered into his tipped vision.
The cookie container was plucked from his hands.
Minho kept his head bowed as he heard it be clicked open, and a faint 'Auh!' of excitement was peeped through the other's lips.
He tried to keep the small smile down as he saw the camboy bounce on the balls of his feet, tiny little penguin waddles that carried from away from where Minho stood. Then the sound of plastic on a counter. Proceeded by more of those adorable little hops coming back to him.
And a finger that pressed his forehead to tip it back. Forcing Minho to look up.
Up to the deity veiled in velvet sunlight from head to toe, robes of imperial gold leaf adorned with precious metals plated bit by bit with crafted care. Up to the camboy, shrouded in a mysterious haze as he walked in an unfamiliar Shangri-la with hypnotizing fog sitting on his heels and the beam of his mischievous eyes which cut through the unending loss. Up to Han Jisung, like a sunrise on mountaintops, fluid words and big doe eyes sparkling with an intense heat as they blinked in puzzlement, his pointed finger pressed into the center of Minho's forehead to keep him from bowing back down into his apology. Up to the baffled tone that choked to him, "You're very... kind to me?"
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Minho mused, a relief yet to have washed through him. Not until he knew for certain his poor attempt at making amends was received well. Not until he knew, even if the other was upset, there was a chance he could make him less upset with him. Not until he was given that confirmation, Minho refused to settle. And damn it, if that meant he had to get on his knees, shove his head into the ground, and pray for forgiveness, then that's what it meant!
"Honestly," Jisung started. He dropped his finger from the older's forehead. His lips quickly cascading up into that sunlit grin Minho memorized in his mind and swooned for, "It's hard to be sad if the person I'm upset with makes me cookies."
Before the older could open his mouth to respond,
Jisung looked away from him.
"No feelings."
Minho stilled.
And even if his heart squeezed in the strangest way in his chest,
He didn't pay it any mind.
"That's all I ask. If you and I keep meeting like this, meeting to hookup, for sex, I'm using you. I am using you for my own pleasure. If you, or I, develop feelings, it gets complicated," Jisung breathed out in a huff, his hands lacing together as they continued to fidget with one another. He shifted again on his feet. Left. Then right. Shoulders wiggling in the shrugging dance the camboy did occasionally. One side. Then the other. Right. Then left. His body squirming up as Minho watched him, "Can you promise that? Promise me there will be no feelings between us if we keep... This."
And even if something in his gut didn't settle right, if his heart pinched up with an odd wince that made him swallowed heavily in his throat.
Minho agreed easily, "No feelings. I can do that."
Jisung glanced back to him.
Shifting on his feet.
Biting his lip again.
The hacker watched him dig his teeth into the supple flesh. Again, and again, in that same habit that chewed away on something so sweet.
Something so perfect, leaving it with reddened nips from between the bites.
How good those lips felt the other night against his. Like candy in paradise.
Poisoned.
A drug which slipped into his mind and left him addicted.
"I'm sorry, I know we just made up, but, I am dying to kiss you," Minho blurted, a fast chuckle chasing the words as his ears burned. They seered him. The tips of his ears, the faint outline of his checks, his throat, he knew his throat flushed up when he blushes. That growing heat underneath his skin expanding when the younger simply laughed along and steppes into him. Hands pressing into his chest to ghost chills along his spine, up his nerves, into a fire burning his mind, as the hacker first asked, "Can I?"
"Yes, of course," Jisung smiled at him.
That was all it took.
Fuck common sense, rationality, and existing as a normal human being. Fuck feelings that twisted in guts, emotions that left you as a wreck when they bundled up, relationships which went in circles chasing flowerbeds in unfinished gardens, connections with another heart if all it did was leave you as a broken mess anyway. Fuck the world outside, it's cruel signs glowing neon in the night as it pretended to ward off the ghostly hauntings left to alleyways and abandoned buildings in the cityscape, it's sunlight if the sunlight wasn't the man he was pulling into him. Fuck his brain, fuck his two friends, especially Chan the bastard, fuck his computers, fuck the hacking, his name as a criminal, Jackalope who was always running against the clock. Who cares about any of that?
Who gives a shit about me anyway.
Minho wrapped his hands around Jisung's jaw, cupping him as he caught him in a greedy kiss. Something that knocked their heads and slammed teeth together as they tried to balance out the sudden collision. Something foul and untamed from the fire igniting in his heart.
Something that raked a hand through his hair, coursing chills through his body before it's fingers fisted up and tangled in the strands. Tugging gently in the heated kiss to slip airy chokes from Minho's lips.
A high off the purrs from the younger like ecstacy injected into his veins.
Who needed drugs when Minho could have Han, Fucking, Jisung, world famous camboy panting warmly against him because he was sucking lightly on his bitten-up bottom lip. Because he was the one giving that desired vixen hunger.
He was the one making his skin burn up with heat.
He was the one pushing a tongue past the swelling lips to write his name on the other's mind.
He, Lee Minho, a hacker from nowhere, was the one who got to sin with him.
The attraction I feel to this guy is fucking insane.
Minho pulled away from the hungry kiss with rasping pants, trying to catch his shortened breath from the whine chasing after him. He pinched the younger's thigh and commanded, "Jump."
Jisung complied, a fast bounce wrapping his shaking legs around the older's hips as he caught him with a bit of a struggle. Thumbs rubbing into the sides of his thighs, palms roughly gripping to ensure he didn't fall as Minho steadied them both. Gently losing himself in the euphoria of the thighs hiked up against him. Images immediately beginning to darken his mind.
Lips ghosted along his neck.
Breaths which grew frantic as their owner nipped at his ear and bit down softly on his throat.
Minho tried to focus, balancing the camboy as he precariously squirmed in his grip. Constantly moving, moving, hand in his hair, hand steadying his neck to leave marks, thighs clenching around his waist, squirming more, and more. He desperately shoved down his own swelling lust to gulp, "Bedroom?"
Jisung pulled away from the marks to sloppily gesture somewhere behind them.
But no feelings is easy.
No feelings is the way of the cutthroat world. Having the liberty for emotions, the room for existence with feelings, was a luxury.
And, maybe, yeah, he did catch sight of a stuffed animal in the corner of the younger's bedroom that looked awfully familiar to a gift he assisted Felix in picking out.
And maybe, his heart did soar when he danced with this bit of sunlight in the dark.
Maybe, he didn't have a reason to fear a ticking clock anymore. Knowing that the seconds would stop to watch. The minutes would be jealous of his fondness for a being without consequence.
Maybe, as he pressed Jisung into the mattress and easily slotted over him, the thighs immediately tangling back into their puzzle piece spaces on his waist to strangle him, heavy breaths from both of them catching up shattering the glassy air as the older took a moment to soak the beautiful man up; The swollen lips parted as he breathed, the tussled hair, the hoodie riding up on his silky stomach, hands working by his sides, relaxed as they tried to make himself comfortable in the new surroundings, there wasn't anything else to worry about.
Minho hesitated, hands tangling up on the sheets as he murmured, "It is okay to touch you?"
"You're... Y-you're so sweet," The camboy stammered out between heavy breaths. His hands already sinking down to pull his hoodie off of his clamming skin, "You're so sweet to me, Bunny. It's not fair. Of course you can touch me."
Minho nodded out some kind of awkward response, an odd mix of a hum and a swallow as he busied himself with assisting Jisung out of his hoodie. Bundling the fabric up into a big messy ball and chucking it somewhere in the room with a 'Hi-yah!' that made the camboy settle with a laughter.
As Jisung eased himself back onto the mattress, Minho took a second to sit back.
To admire the velvet skin littered with fading hickeys from his own lips and the lithe outline of the body beneath him.
To finally ease his hands onto the other's bare waist. Fingers touching first, freezing as barely a feathering touch until he knew the younger was completely okay with it before setting down the rest of his hand.
He just seemed so...
Tiny.
So precious in his hands.
Something to be honored, admired, every bit of him given the attention it deserved.
"I'll tell you what, love. You gave me a wonderful experience the first time we called," Minho spoke up, the rasp in his throat and the dryness on his tongue enough to make the other wriggle gently against him with his hips. And again, he found that easy position over Jisung, half believing that by time he was done here he would have biceps made of pure steel, "Tonight, I want to be the one giving you the same pleasure."
Minho dipped down, listening to the other's breaths stutter as he ghosted his lips along his throat. As Jisung grabbed the hair strands again and arched his head back with a purr.
"I want you to tell me where you want to be touched, how you want to be touched."
The breaking of those steady breaths trembling apart with timid gasps as he drifted down to nip softly at his collars, his shoulders, his chest, his nipples, his navel.
"I want you to tell me how you want me, what you want to do, what you want to try."
Without much warning, Minho rutted his hips down into Jisung's. Members rocking together as a bliss raptured them apart.
The younger moaned. Eyes shutting tight as an arch curled him up.
"Anything you want, I can do for you. But, I want you to keep your eyes open," Minho brushed his fingers underneath the camboy's jaw. The feathered connection prompting those hooded eyes to open, to find his through their uneven breaths and throaty mewls shuddering in time to their flutters. Minho asserted, "I want to see you. Can you do that for me, love?"
With a soft gulp, Jisung nodded. More of those breathy pants leaving between his lips.
He deserves to be treated well.
Minho dragged his hands down the younger's chest.
Taking care to memorize the body underneath his hands.
Slowly.
Lingering on the slim waist. The hips. In his palms, how the bones bent and moved for friction.
As if he is revered.
Trailing more, to his thighs. Mailable underneath his fingertips. The touch to them causing Jisung to write moan softly.
Until his hands found the band of the sweatpants, the baby blue drawstrings and the obvious tent that formed.
Minho pulled his hands off of him.
"Do you want to keep going?" He worried, setting his fisted hands down on the sheets. The fabric bundling up beneath his fingertips as he gripped them, hoping the feeling of the cool cotton would be enough to occupy his burning mind for a few minutes more. For enough to glance to those adorable eyes sparkling at him with a hungry twinge in their jittering excitement, pulling his mind off of the hands moving from his shoulders to roam far and wide. "You can tell me to stop, we don't have to do this. You're not under any obligation to. Cookies, or not. You don't have to have sex with me because I made you cookies."
Two hands clamped onto his cheeks. His face cheeks, you dirty minded heathen Lee Minho smh, as Jisung pulled him back into a kiss. So much more gentle and adoring in the meager movements of his lips.
So much more tender.
Fond.
Loving...?
Despite their relationship being anything but that.
"You're so cute, Bunny," Jisung grinned at him once they pulled away from the kiss. His hands falling down, coming to prop him up on his elbows behind him as he nibbled at his bottom lip, "Don't worry, I want you to keep going."
The older nodded, a hand moving to the waistband and neatly done bow of the drawstrings.
Slowly, pulling the string as it began to unravel.
He hesitated, and looked back to Jisung.
Minho checked again, "You're sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Okay, but, tell me to stop and I'll stop."
"Fuck," Jisung flopped back down with a gentle moan. His arms falling over his head as his back arched off the mattress, a soft murmur beneath his breath of, "That's hot."
Minho furrowed his eyebrows, "Hm? What is?"
The camboy just shook his head, teeth biting harder into his bottom lip as he watched the older's movements.
Waiting with a delicate anticipation swelling in his held breath.
With a firm exhale, Minho dived back down to sprinkle kisses along the younger's stomach. Nipping and biting at his skin with pecks gently, ever so softly, enough to calm him regardless of if he needed that comfort. With each press of his lips to that silky skin another wordless reassurance. Another promise, he wouldn't overstep, he wouldn't do anything the younger didn't want, he wouldn't demand him, he wouldn't hurt him. A guarantee, he would treat the younger as the light of sunshine he was, ephemeral in his beauty glowing within his chest, within the palms of his hands, he didn't know he could hold sunlight until today. An oath he took with every lingering press, he would treat Jisung as if he was a drop of liquid gold painting his skin, as if he was the true angelic deity the hacker thought him to be.
He deserves to be given paradise.
When he felt Jisung firmly relax beneath him,
Minho gradually slipped the hem of the waistband down.
I just hope I can be the one to take him there.
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