"Minho, someone is here to see you!"
It's the first thing Jisung hears upon entry to the warehouse situated right in the outskirts of the city. It's pretty much abandoned by the looks of it on the outside, and not just anyone would snoop around to find themselves head-to-head with armed guards in the entryway.
Jisung had turned up in the middle of a random Tuesday, silver Lexus fresh from a car wash. He felt good today, dressed in the nicest fitting shirt he owned, ironed to perfection. His legs wore his baggy leather pants, perfectly draping over his two-inch platformed Dr. Martens, but tight around his thighs to make his ass look a hundred times better.
But seriously, his first impression had nothing at all to faze the men who had been keeping guard of the front. He flashed them a dazzling smile, winking at their built figures.
"For Lee Minho, please."
One squinted his eyes. "Who are you?"
Jisung's lips tug into a smirk. "Han Jisung," he peers over to eye the clipboard in his hands. "I don't know, I may be listed as 'baby' on that list, though." A conceited grin leaves his throat right after. All he receives is an unimpressed once over as they both exchange silent sighs.
"Just go in." He says before he mumbles into the mic-piece draped over his neck.
And that's how he found himself walking the said warehouse after gaining access to enter. The huge space is divided into sections, with actual walls and rooms built in to manage business around here easier. Jisung greets all that he walks by, and he's mostly receiving blunt and indifferent looks from folks clad in all black attire in response, but he doesn't care all too much.
He makes sure his lips are slick with gloss, blowing a smooch at his reflection in the compact mirror in his hand as he ruffles his bangs, arranging the peekaboo hot pink strands over his eyes. Then, he barges into the room that he is meant to go to in order to meet the man he had missed all week.
Blown eyes stare at him when he bursts into the room. The first thing Jisung notices out of all things is that Minho is standing there looking ridiculously good clad in all black attire, similar to those he had seen outside. Secondly, there's a gun in his hand pointed right at Jisung.
He doesn't flinch. Nor move. Only keeps that bright smile on his face as Minho relaxes immediately at the sight of him, tucking his pistol back into his holster as a rather relieved groan leaves his throat. "You scared the fuck out of me. Don't do it again."
Jisung breaks out into a giggle and he makes the rest of the way over to the other male as he takes in his surroundings. A shooting range. It's ideal, as this place is packed with highly trained personnel. "But not just anybody is allowed here," he coos, watching as Minho gets back to his work. "Did I really freak you out?"
"How did you get in?"
"Well, of course you put my name on the access so I entered with no questions asked," Jisung winks, hand coming up to smooth down Minho's bicep. "So, tell me. Just 'Han Jisung'? You're telling me that's how I got in? After all the pestering I gave you, I promised you peace if my alias here was 'baby'."
Minho gives him a slow stare, lips quirking up the slightest. "You're crazy."
"Am I now?" Jisung pouts and he eyes as Minho polishes a dagger, picking it up to examine it and sliding the sheathe over it as he places it back on his belt. He tilts his head and hums. "Perhaps I am. I walk in here like it's no big deal so I could see my honey."
The other man scoffs, but it's out of amusement. "Don't you have anything better to do than just that?" Minho raises his eyebrows. Jisung's lips tug downwards as he continues to dismiss his outputs and ask his own questions. He huffs and crosses his arms over his body.
"Is that all you're going to ask me?" he picks a piece of lint off his shirt as he downright speaks to himself. Truly, it is a question that had yet to be answered by Jisung. Why he had bothered to show up in such a place full of such peril.
To put it simply, Minho was a gun-for-hire. He kills. And he's payed to do so, so he had explained to Jisung that it automatically outweighs the other half of the job. And the only way they would've met was if Minho had encountered him on the job, because even if Jisung knew him quite well now, he had been so secretive of his life and business. Same with everyone else here.
Jisung had been so unfortunate that day to come across an alleyway on his way back from the salon when he had heard a loud thud. He froze, and though silenced, he was sure it was a gunshot. So Jisung being Jisung, he had somehow had the guts to creep around the corner and peer into the darkness to find a silhouette of a man seeming to be cleaning up the rest of the scene.
Of course he just had to have heightened senses, and he turned to meet Jisung's widened eyes because he realized there had been a dead man on the ground. And at first it was a lot, because mere seconds after that, a hand was clasped around his mouth to prevent any screams that may leak out.
And that's when Jisung truly started panicking, because he figured he was next. He had just witnessed a crime and now he was going to die because he might not be able to keep his mouth shut. He still had so much to live for, but this was truly going to be the end. He would end up dead in a random alleyway in the hands of a hot man because his curiosity always got the best of him.
But it's probably the opposite of what happened. The exact opposite, really. Instead, Minho had dragged Jisung to the nearest bakery and while listening to his pleads and cries to spare his life while all he did was buy him a whole platter of baked goods... and sat him down to further explain himself and to absolutely speak not a word about it.
Truly, Jisung had never felt so charmed in his life. That the man who had then introduced himself as Minho had done all of that to spare his life. Minho had told him he gets rid of all the 'bad' people since the police won't exactly do it themselves, since, well, they were also breaking the law by doing so.
He would probably have been dead meat had it been someone else who had caught him snooping. And the fact that Jisung is still alive has him constantly living the days prior to the incident, reeling and seeking out Minho because he had left him alive.
And that thought had him spiraling. Minho let him be because of a specific reason, right? Yes, that's what Jisung chose to believe. He just had to know why, and it expanded into something bigger when he continued to seek out Minho when he shouldn't have been doing.
He continues to do so for the thrill. The risks. The everything about Minho, because Jisung needs to know what it was like to be fully enveloped by the man's company so he could finally find his answer.
Minho gives Jisung a look. One filled with obvious confusion masked by his state of calm. "What else did you want me to say? You're doing all the talking now, aren't you."
Jisung whines. More like, fake-whines, because he knows that he could get his way with Minho like this. "You're being so totally mean right now. You should be honored to have me in your company," he says, pursing his plump lips. "But you do like listening to me talking nonsense, don't you?"
Minho snorts lightly. "You're funny."
"Crazy and funny, I'll take it."
"Real funny."
Jisung props his hip up against the ledge separating the range. "By the way," he begins, a cheeky smirk beginning to grace his lips. "I know another way you could make me ramble all sorts of nonsense."
Minho only continues to work, unbothered. He only turns to look at Jisung wordlessly when he doesn't respond, a perfect, lazy brow rising up at the lack of response.
"Filthy nonsense," he accentuates with a purr. He can't also help the giggle that spills out of his throat, fanning his face because he believes he's so entertaining, filling Minho's head with ideas. It's always like this. Yet, the other just plays it off and probably builds up an excuse to send Jisung away.
"Either way, I'm sure it's nonsense all right," is what Minho says, lips curving upwards into that teasing smile. Jisung scowls. He smacks Minho's arm, also taking his time to drag his palm down the muscles.
"Whatever. Don't you have anything more fun to do than just... that?" Jisung asks with judging brows raised upwards as he eyes Minho's little collection of weapons draped out on a satin cloth. A gloved hand, leather and broke out from daily use, sets an ammo can down, exposed fingertips running along the surface of it. Jisung swallows a lump in his throat.
"Don't you have anything better than to come and pester me all the time?" Minho smirks, lazy and collected as he polishes another one of his knifes. The slide of it against his gloved palm sends shivers down his spine. "I'm dangerous, Jisungie. Do mommy and daddy know you're hanging around such a person?"
"Why does it matter what they think?" Jisung's eyebrows rise, challenging. "I'm grown. I know what I'm getting himself into."
Minho's eyes trek up his figure as he gives him a slow nod. His eyes lift away at once. "You truly don't."
"Really now?" Jisung sings softly, moving into Minho's space to hopefully catch his eye. "If I was scared of you, I wouldn't dare to have shown up in all my glory, honey."
The other clicks his tongue lightly out of amusement. Jisung's eyes grow lidded as he inspects Minho's thick bangs, swooping over to brush over his cutting cheek bones. Truly, it should be a crime to have someone as beautiful as Minho to be committing such heinous acts. Jisung's eyes shift to the rifle situated next to the pile of weapons, the sparkly reflection of the scope catching his eye as he shuffles over to easily pick it up into his arms.
"Ooh, this is pretty, isn't it?" Jisung weighs it in his hand and runs it over the base, where he has absolutely no clue about any of the switches and latches on it. Immediately, Minho pulls the head of it towards him momentarily to turn the safety back on.
"These aren't toys," Minho says, a hard look in his eye, "no funny business."
Jisung pouts. "It's not like I could even hurt a fly," he murmurs. "But, look. Doesn't this fit me so well? Do I also look like a sexy hitman?" He poses, gun in front of his torso as he shoots it in Minho's direction. The other stands unfazed, only a little grin lining his lips as he watches with amusement.
"You look stupid." Minho answers his question.
"Ugh, you never help!"
"That's not how you hold it, it'll go flying out of your hands with no support," Minho ignores his previous output, easily taking the rifle into his own hands like it's lightweight. Jisung watches, fascinated as he pulls back some kind of switch.
"Show me, then?"
Minho stares at him, blinking slowly like a cat. He then turns and his gaze situates right across the range, eyes unmoving. "Hands over your ears," he orders lightly. Jisung moves to cup his palms over his ears, watching.
"You get into position, just like this," Minho explains as he plants his feet properly into the ground. "Posture is important. You want to support the recoil, or you'll miss," he says and Jisung watches as he hunches just slightly into the perfect stance. He raises the rifle up and supports it against his shoulder. Minho flips a switch and closes one of his eyes to peer into the scope with the other.
"Then you aim," he tilts his head, concentrated. "And shoot."
Bang!
Jisung jumps just slightly when the loud noise echoes through the range, the echo bouncing off of the enclosed walls. He slowly brings his hands back down and looks over to the target Minho had shot it. Absolutely destroyed. The head of the fake dummy is in splintered fragments on the ground.
Minho doesn't show off any cockiness or pride as he observes the target with a stable expression. He brings the rifle back down like it's no big deal, pulling something back again as he sets it back onto the counter. Meanwhile, Jisung is in absolute shambles as he swallows the drool that had been unavoidably pooling in his mouth.
God, he wants this man to wreck his shit so absolutely bad. He might actually go feral quite soon enough.
"That's..." Jisung starts, unsure of really what to say. But he continues. "Huh. Wow. I'm sure— I'm sure anyone could do that! Wow, that looked easy," he chimes, hands crossing over himself as he observes one of the dummies in the distance with squinted eyes.
"Confident much, yeah?" Minho says with a half-smile, tilting his head as Jisung raises his chin up high. "Why don't you give it a try, then."
"Yeah! I can do that!" Jisung easily agrees.
He shoos Minho aside and gets in the middle of where a new target had been automatically summoned into the room by a machine. By the looks of it, it's about sixty feet out right now. Jisung rolls his shoulders. Yeah, he could totally do this. Just— blow a hole right through the shoulder, or something, and Minho will totally be head over heels for him right afterwards.
"Let's see," Jisung picks up the gun again, humming as he eyes the trigger. With boldness, he raises the gun so it's hovering right over the middle of his chest quite awkwardly. He squints his eye to aim but Minho lets out a very unabashed snort next to him. Jisung gives him a look of offense in response.
"Yeah, this isn't gonna work," Minho sighs and he shakes his head, amused smile on his lips. Next to him on the counter, he presses a button on a remote and the target moves on wheels to come much closer to them. Maybe even halfway through the range. Jisung's lips pout sadly.
"Don't sulk, you'd end up shooting a light if I left it like that," Minho says. "And here, you can rest it on the counter and bend down to support yourself with your shoulders. It's easier that way."
Jisung gives him a look of speculation before he slowly sets the gun down, hunching over as he props his shoulders onto the counter. He then takes the rifle again and huh, he was right. It's much comfortable and convenient.
"Hm. Thanks, I guess. Now, let me—"
"No, that's wrong. Stop standing like a stick. You need to give yourself room, kick your legs out."
Jisung whines softly. "But you didn't have to do all of that."
Minho crosses his arms. "Well, darling, I knew what I was doing and you currently don't."
"That's not—"
"Shush," he says simply. Jisung lets his back be bent according to what Minho supplies is 'good posture.' His feet are then spread just a tad bit further and Jisung is now registering what position he is in for Minho, taking his lip into his teeth as he just bends over a little more just for funsies.
"Show me how you'd shoot someone right in the chest."
Jisung looks over his shoulder with cluelessness in his eyes. He blinks at Minho pleadingly as the other just gestures towards the target. He then lets out a little puff of air as he turns back around and mimics Minho's actions from earlier, trying his best to stabilize the gun in his hold. When he squints and finds the dummy in the distance, crosshair fixed over the middle of its chest, he grins proudly and rubs over the trigger with his finger before he presses right on it.
There's another loud bang that sounds throughout the room, but then the gun practically almost flies out of Jisung's hold, hands scrambling to catch it. He looks over and sinks in disappointment when he finds out that there had not been one bullet in the dummy.
"I swear I had it!"
Minho tuts, shaking his head slowly. "That wasn't quite it."
Jisung groans. "Then why don't you come help me!" he grumbles, "Since you're the expert, and all."
"All you had to do was ask," Minho says with a click of his tongue. Jisung rolls his eyes. He attempts to straighten up in his position when a hand at his lower back stops him, presses him back against the counter. He has no choice but to stay bent over like this.
"This position is good, you just need to," Minho's arms and hands come into his view, and they clasp onto the gun to maneuver it into a better place. Jisung swallows, feels Minho's whole presence just hovering over his back.
"Don't get so close to the scope. It's zoomed in for a reason."
"Like this?" Jisung asks as he scoots a little back.
"Yeah," Minho says, the stability in his tone just seems to never falter, "like that."
Jisung bites on his bottom lip, feeling heat bubble in his tummy as he lets himself be taught and ordered by Minho. Truly, he shouldn't be getting all worked up from all of this. The guy has probably done it with many people before. He most likely helps the trainees aim and shoot, just like this. This isn't anything special.
"But... how exactly do I aim?" Jisung asks, turning to look at Minho with his biggest doe eyes. "I'm afraid I'll end up shooting something else instead like last time." He pouts.
Minho offers him a raise of his brow. A little exhale that could be describe as a sigh leaves his throat as he straightens up and moves towards him. "Turn around."
Jisung does just that. Stays still and stares straight ahead at the dummy in the distance. What he doesn't expect is to suddenly have arms over his own, Minho plastering himself to his back as he practically drapes himself over his body. A quiet gasp leaves Jisung's throat, the close proximity making his breathing stutter.
"Don't tense up. Relax," Minho orders into his ear. Jisung could almost feel himself dazing off at the feeling of warmth and the syllables of Minho's soft voice against the shell of his ear. He takes a deep breath in and one out, before he lets his figure go lax beneath Minho. It seems that he does the right thing, as Minho's hands move to come over his own on the gun.
"Left hand on the guard," Minho peels Jisung's fingers off and situates them into the correct position. The leather rubs against his skin in just the dizziest ways possible. Jisung breathes shallowly as Minho speaks to him again and moves his right hand against the grip.
"Did you hear me?"
"I— what?"
"What did I just say?"
Jisung squeezes his eyes shut. "Um... I can shoot now?"
Minho sighs from behind him, and his chest just presses up against Jisung's back at the movement. He gulps, legs shuffling slightly.
"Always remember to turn safety off. If this was real and you attempted to shoot with nothing coming out, your enemy would have blown your brains out right now."
Jisung frowns. "Hey."
"So get it together, and listen to me." Minho speaks from behind him, Jisung picking up on how the tone sounds just the slightest bit of impatient. "Flip safety off, brace yourself, aim, and shoot."
Jisung feels over for the switch at his right side and flips it so it's off. He gets into his aiming position without Minho's help, and he finds the target in the distance in the scope. He's ready to shoot, but he doesn't. Just, takes note of Minho still over him and gives himself a dare in his mind to act.
"Can you do it with me?"
Behind him, Minho lets out what could only be described as a scoff. It's taunting, and really, Jisung shouldn't have enjoyed the humiliation it brought to him because Minho probably thinks he's stupid. Still, it does the trick because Minho's arms tighten around him and hold the gun as if he was the one shooting.
"God, Jisungie," he chuffs, lips hovering dangerously over his ear as he maneuvers the crosshair over the chest of the dummy, "you just love being told what to do, don't you?"
Before Jisung could even say anything, Minho presses him further onto the counter, hand creeping over his to hover over the trigger. The other's hips unabashedly slot over his, Minho's crotch right against his ass, and before Jisung could even hear the noisy whimper that leaves his throat at the feeling, Minho presses on the trigger and the bullet penetrates the dummy square on the chest.
At last, Minho separates from his body. Jisung's ears are still ringing, the surface of them as hot as ever. He thinks he's left with a moment to breathe and he slumps onto the counter, but strong hands latch onto his shoulders to keep him upright and peel the gun away from his hold. Minho's hands proceed to drag down his body, palms lingering at his waist before he completely removes himself off of him.
Jisung is dizzy. He could feel how his clothes stick to his skin a little too uncomfortably, a sheen layer of sweat building up on his skin. He rubs his face and feels how his cheeks burn with shame, suddenly forgetting all that he had just learned as he only focuses on the ghost of Minho's touch on him.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it, darling?"
Jisung turns on numb-ish legs. Catches Minho's eye, looking all calm and composed. Lips twitching up into the faintest of a smirk. God, Jisung wants to kiss him stupid. The words feel jumbled in his throat as he answers.
"Y-yeah. You taught me well."
"Mm," he hums gently. "And you did so good, as always."
⭒
Jisung gets home when the sky is a shade of dark denim, getting ready to transition right into the pitch blackness of the night. He's been restless all day. Ever since he had left Minho, in the car, he had been feeling all lightheaded. Eager to touch and feel himself release.
He stumbles into his room, floor slippery under his socked feet. He faintly remembers unlacing his boots so fast and quick and kicking them to the side without a care for neatness at this exact moment. He's so hot, he feels he'll burst any moment.
Jisung peels off his socks and first, settles to reach for his pants and unbutton them. He struggles pulling them off, they're tight at his thighs and he lets out a whine of frustration and jolts when he peels the leather right over his tight underwear. The air is relieving, but doesn't do much to soothe his real problem.
He leaves his shirt on, liking how the oversized fit makes him feel comfortable and free. A whimper sounds through the room when he palms at his boxers, eyebrows pinching together as he gathers the strength to slide out of them. Immediately, he takes a hand and closes it around his already pulsing cock, hot and needy from all of his built up arousal.
He lets out a free moan into his room, without a care for modesty. He's used to it either way. He's so wet, pre-cum already drenching his palm as he slides his fingers up and down his length, slick noises prickling at his ears. Minho always gets him like this. Gets him so messy but he doesn't even know.
Jisung looks around in a daze, and he grabs onto one of his pillows to shove his face into it, as well as to cant his hips down towards the pillow so he can seek some friction, and oh does it feel so good. He whines, knees holding him up as he ruts against his poor pillow.
His mind is swirling with phrases. Phrases said by Minho in all of his honey-voiced glory. He remembers what he said earlier, lips practically already kissing the hot shell of his ear.
You just love being told what to do, don't you?
Jisung lets out a cry, ass pushing out into the air as he fists the edge of his pillow. Minho gets him so dumb and he doesn't even know. He lays with his cheek against the fabric to make room for his hand to snake up to his mouth, shoving his fingers into his drooling heat. He shouldn't be turned on more by the way the taste of himself just feels so right. He pulls wet fingers out so he can reach behind himself and circle around his already anticipating hole.
The slide is easy, digits easily pushing in as he muffles his cry into his pillow. Images of Minho flood his mind, eyelids closing as he pictures his perfect smirk and lidded cat-eyes. He goes back every time for more, to see more, and to hopefully feel more. And Minho has no idea he gets like this, has no idea what he does to Jisung, so he lets this happen to himself so he could just go back home and fuck himself right in front of his mirror, strings of the other man's name falling from his rough throat.
"Hnghh," Jisung's eyes squeeze out a lone tear as he breaches himself further. It stings, his limbs feel like they're tensing and they're on the verge of shutting down any second. He likes it. Likes to feel the stretch and the burn and pain because he knows when it were to happen one day, Minho would be so much for him.
"Fuck," he breathes into his pillow, fingering himself and almost gasping over a groan when he rubs over his prostate. "Please."
Poor Jisungie, Minho would probably say. Still needs me to order him around, yeah?
Jisung moans, head falling forward into his pillow. He could barely breathe properly, the lack of air already playing its part in reducing him into nothing but a mess. He imagines Minho telling him to take his time, to fully relish in on the feeling of gifting himself pleasure, yet his hole closes around his fingers, greedy and eager. He refuses to touch his cock, afraid all of the adrenaline and pleasure and excitement will end just way too soon.
He groans once his wrist strains in his position, pulling out his hand momentarily to catch his breath. He's slumped over his bed, ass up in the air, still painfully hard and longing to release. He feels as if he's overworking himself, but the heat just won't go away.
Jisung sits up and in slow, crawling movements, he opens his bedside drawer to dig around for his well-loved bottle of strawberry lube and his silicone dildo with a suction right at the bottom. Immediately, he craves for it to be buried to the hilt in his ass. He's been imagining for something bigger— something that could even get closer Minho.
He's always speculated that the man would have a big package. He had expected so with the first glance of his thick thighs and broad shoulders, and today, he had the first taste of his confirmed speculations. As Jisung slathers the toy with a generous amount of lube, he doesn't spare a second before he clears his pillows, slams it right against his headboard, and moves himself in front of it before he can sink down on it in one go.
That burning feeling of Minho's cock against his ass returns again. He feels as if a burst of electricity had ran through his veins at the contact, and he how bigger he felt when he was draped over Jisung. With a cry, Jisung fucks his hips back against his dildo, moaning out as he cherishes the feeling of being filled.
He thinks of Minho's hands, how they brushed at his waist, and how they could guide his hips if he were bouncing Jisung right on his cock, telling him he's so good. His thighs, how he could make Jisung get off like a dumb dog in heat, making him grind against the muscle as he cries helplessly. And fuck, Jisung is even curious to feel leather closing around his throat, Minho holding him down as he teases the edge of his sharp dagger along his inner thigh, eventually closing in to his weeping cock.
"Hhh, fuck," Jisung mewls, a gasp leaving his throat as the tip of the dildo rams into his prostate. "Fuck, oh m' god, please."
Begging looks lovely on you, sweetheart. Imaginary-Minho coos against his ear, keep it up and I just might give you what you like.
"Harder," Jisung whimpers under his breath, toes curling as he slams himself back with much more force. A moan leaves his throat as he arches his back, his orgasm creeping up on him just as quickly as his thoughts of Minho spiral all around in his fuzzy brain.
A hand comes to his thigh on its own and digs his blunt fingernails into the skin, dragging them down to his ass. He lets out a cry in pain, and imagines how Minho would praise him for taking it so well. For letting him make it hurt and for letting him take care of him afterwards.
He believes Minho will make him beg for release, wait until his chubby cheeks are stained with tears and his hair is matted with his sweat. He'd smile over his face with venom and kiss him right on the mouth, swallowing the mewl that bubbles out of his throat as he rams right into him with no signs of faltering.
Then, he'd stay close to him and tell him countless strings of praises as he comes. Good boy, he'd whisper out into the warm air. That's my good boy, baby.
Jisung comes unexpectedly, stomach twisting as a rough gasp is pulled from his throat. He jerks his cock, crying out when he milks himself thoroughly of his release. He shoves two fingers down his mouth to muffle his whimpers as he slumps face first right on his mattress as he recovers from his high. The artificial fruit almost burns on his tongue, a bitterness flooding through his veins as the fantasy dissolves just like that.
He feels like he could cry, eyes already burning with tears from earlier. He doesn't have the energy to go and clean up the mess he had made because his desires always got the rest of him.
It's also because he doesn't want to let it all go this time. Forget he doesn't think such thoughts and act such acts, and doesn't wanna go through the whole, self-degrading process again.
Jisung may be a little delirious, and he most likely is. He eyes his phone that had been dumped on the bed previously and reaches out for it lazily, dildo still snug in him. Then, he unlocks it and scrolls to the camera, where he would open it with a blush flaring high on his damp cheeks.
He holds it up and gets into a position where his ass would be visible, the base of the dildo just barely peaking out as lube froths at his rim. He snaps a picture, and without thinking about any second thoughts, he opens Minho's contact and sends it right to him.
Han Jisung
Image Attached
it was hard without you, maybe next
time you can show me what to do xx
Read 22:07
A wet giggle bubbles out of Jisung's throat. Perhaps he's just truly much of a crazy person, but he'll just let it be for now. Whatever the response is, he'll deal with it tomorrow morning. He gets under his sheets and turns his lamp off, letting his eyes close as he drifts off to sleep.
Jisung doesn't get much sleep because later, his eyes crack open somehow, the darkness in his room slowly brightening as he lets his eyes adjust to the setting. They're heavy with sleep, like weights threatening to pull his lids right back down. But, he doesn't just wake up for no reason at all. He's halfway through a yawn when his floorboard creeks, his head snapping towards the sound as his eyes widen a considerable amount.
He may be hearing things. His place is old, anyway, and things shift here and there. Jisung stays still for a few more seconds before he decides to dismiss it. He lays back flat on his back and closes his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. And it all happens too quickly, calculated footsteps inch towards his bed and the mattress dips with weight as his eyes shoot back open. A hand presses against his mouth as his blood runs cold, eyes landing on a man in front of him.
But, the press of leather against his lips is more familiar than he remembers, and the other man's free hand comes up to peel off the mask on his face. Instantly, relief floods through his veins as he recognizes Minho through his still-blurry vision.
Minho's finger presses against his lips, as if telling him to stay quiet, and he pulls it back with a hint of a smirk prodding at his lips. Jisung lets out a huge exhale, collapsing back against his pillow. "Don't fucking do that ever again."
"Did I scare you, Jisungie?" Minho chuckles quietly, eyes glinting in the dark under his mused hair.
"Yeah, I totally wouldn't be terrified if a man just suddenly showed up in my room, looking like he was going to kill me." Jisung croaks.
"But, I didn't kill you," he coos lightly. "You're here, still alive at my hands."
Jisung swallows harshly, and he takes in how Minho is still clad in his dark attire, hinting that he must've come here straight from work. The whole reason for his current presence seeps into Jisung slowly, eyes darting up to meet Minho's lidded ones as his bare legs slowly press together. He was so sure he wouldn't have to deal with this until a little later. Still, he can't help but ask.
"What are you doing here?"
Minho cocks a brow, head tilting and doing his job to make Jisung feel so small. "I think we both know the reason why I'm here," he says slowly, voice still low in volume, "why I had to go as far as to break in after that cute text you sent me, Jisungie."
Fuck, Jisung's totally sporting a half-hard on already. He paws at his dampening face, scooting up against his headboard uselessly. "Was there really anything cute about it?"
Minho only strives to close in on him, body moving towards his own. "Of course," he purrs slightly. His eyes dart over to the right side of Jisung's head, his gaze darkening noticeably. They flicker back to him in a flash. "You have some fun, sweetheart?"
"I—"
"Did you come yet?" Minho then proceeds to ask, and Jisung's eyes widen as he chokes on a whimper. Before he could answer, the other continues. "It doesn't matter," he's moving to hover over Jisung's legs, and everything around him is spiraling, "it won't be your last."
Minho's hand, still dressed in his glove, closes around his jaw and presses his mouth against his, hot and wet as he kisses him deeply. Jisung melts, reeling as his mouth is penetrated, Minho's skilled tongue doing wonders and making him gasp out as his lips are pulled by teeth.
And then Jisung lets out a rather noisy and eager whimper, one that has Minho pulling back as he presses their foreheads together. "Quiet, darling," he whispers against his mouth, hot breath fanning over. "You don't want to wake your neighbors."
"P-please," he says, voice cracking as a desperate attempt to stay quiet. It makes a rather sadistic smile line Minho's lips as he pulls away and stabilizes himself on his knees. Jisung scrambles to kick back his comforter, bare legs closing in on each other.
"You just love my attention, don't you," Minho says, eyes creeping up his body until they meet his eyes again. "You do so much to only end up a dumb, neglected mess."
"I-I want you so bad," Jisung whimpers quietly, legs prying open on their own as Minho's eyes burn holes into them. "Please— I've been waiting... waiting for a long time."
"Is that so?" Minho's brows raise as he studies him. "Then we can't have you wait, yeah? Boys like you never do good with patience," he says, and then he's grabbing Jisung's legs to spread them apart, bending him in half as he dives down, faced with his hole. Minho breathes over it and Jisung whines, the other man smirking menacingly as he goes right in and licks a fat stripe over his rim.
"Fuck," Jisung moans, Minho's lips pressing a sloppy kiss to his lube covered hole. Some of it had dried up, but it was still fairly wet to show what he had been doing just hours prior. The thought seems to get Minho going, as he tightens his grip on his legs with iron strength, tongue trudging against his entrance to get more of that strawberry on his tongue.
Jisung's hand flies to bury itself in Minho's hair, jaw slacking as whimpers spill from his throat. The way Minho's eyes stay trained on him the entire time, sharp and attentive, has him slowly getting aroused all over again, but this time it's real. It's happening, and he could allow himself to freely enjoy it all.
"Min!" Jisung chirps when Minho's teeth latch onto his skin. "Hnghh, wait— I'm s-still sensitive."
Minho chuffs. "Should've guessed," he mouths against Jisung's ass, pulling back slightly to kiss his thigh. "I'm sure you know that what you sent me was an invitation, Jisungie."
"An... an invitation for what?"
Minho shrugs, teasing. "Oh, I really don't know," he smiles jeeringly, "you want to tell me all about it?"
"Fuck me." Jisung blurts unabashedly. Minho doesn't look taken a back the slightest, lips curling upwards as an amused laugh bubbles out from deep in his throat.
"Oh Jisungie," Minho shifts to get on his knees again. At this angle, he's towering over Jisung, dark and narrow eyes peering down at him like he's powerless. "What are we going to do with you."
"You said you shouldn't make me wait," Jisung murmurs with flushed cheeks. Minho coos softly and cups his jaw, fingers curling in to squish his face.
"You're right, I did say that."
Minho pulls back and his serious facade slides right over his face as he unclips every latch and belt that's apart of his uniform. He's pulling his long sleeve over his head to reveal his undershirt when Jisung speaks again.
"Did you, um..." he begins, and Minho tilts his head with a ghost of a smile on his face. "Did you bring your... things?"
Minho stills, eyes coming over to Jisung. Then, his lips widen into an instant smirk, and the other already regrets asking. "What things?" he mocks, crawling over his legs. "My weapons, Jisungie? You wanted to know if I brought them here to use?" Minho asks, a little laugh falling from his lips. Jisung blushes, fisting the pillows below him.
"It's— it's a valid question, okay?!"
"It is," Minho nods slowly, agreeing. "And to answer that, no, I didn't," his gaze then shifts to the dildo still stuck onto the headboard. Jisung's entire being burns. "You're fragile, sweetheart. We'll have to talk more before we play with them, okay?"
"I'm..." Jisung starts, panting when his legs are pulled so he could lay down flat on his back. A pillow is maneuvered under his hips. "I'm not fragile."
"Oh yeah?" Minho's eyebrows rise in amusement. He's already unbuckling his belt, and Jisung is watching in anticipation, blown eyes staring at the man over him. "You want to test that theory, honey? Find out how delicate you are?"
Jisung's lips part in a silent gasp as his ankles are grabbed to be thrown over Minho's shoulders. The other is working so fast and rough that he barely has time to recollect himself. Then, he spots as Minho had pulled his slacks down enough to reveal his thick cock, a hand already fisting at his length.
"Because you are, sweetheart," Minho says as he plants a hand next to Jisung's head. "You're much more breakable than you think."
Jisung's body is jostled up the bed as Minho slams right into him. He gasps roughly, a loud cry being ripped from his throat right as the other man begins to thrust right into his heat, semi-wet with just the perfect amount of friction. He fills him so well. It's better than he could ever imagined.
Minho fucks him like they're on a time crunch, hips moving steady yet thoroughly as his stare fixes right on Jisung's face, twisting up in pleasure as he takes it all.
"Fuck!" Jisung wails out of sensitivity. His body feels like it's so light under Minho, a hand at his waist easily holding him in place as he's fucked into. His head brushes against the headboard beating not-so-subtly against the wall, legs tightening around the sides of Minho's neck.
"You're gorgeous," Minho says above him, eyes piercing into him. Jisung moans high in his throat, feeling defenseless in his position, hands coming to grip at Minho's strong shoulders.
"It's so much," Jisung breathes through a cry, jaw slacking around yet another mewl. His stomach tenses, feels how Minho's cock might just be arranging his guts. "Fuck, you're so good."
Minho's resulting, unbothered smile has heat curling in his tummy. "Is it enough for you, baby?"
Jisung meets his stare through teary eyes, heart kicking at the form of endearment. At the same time, he focuses on how hot and absolutely satisfied he is. How perfect Minho has been so far and how he just craves for something more.
"I..." he falters, suppressing the whimper in his throat by biting his lips. "I can take more."
Minho's hips slow, cock dragging against every ridge in his walls much more thoroughly. "Oh?" he tilts his head, challenging. "Is that so?"
Jisung nods frantically, anticipating bubbling in his veins at what the other may plan to do to him. It may not be as dangerous as he'd think, but he knows that Minho would be up to take it up a notch.
He's lost in his thoughts when an insanely tight fist wraps around the base of his rock hard cock and two gloved fingers slot right into his mouth. Jisung's eyes widen, and he chokes on the sudden intrusion, gag reflex bringing tears to his eyes. His frantic stare meets Minho's and the other only squeezes at his cock, the contact bordering something painful as he yelps.
"You like it when it hurts, don't you," Minho says, observing the faint scratch marks on Jisung's thighs. "Should've known. You've been chasing a felon like me for a while, so of course you'd want to get all roughed up like this."
Jisung gurgles around the leather, eyes rolling back as he mumbles a 'please' around the digits. Minho only lets out a scoff in his face as he resumes fucking Jisung's brains out, thumb digging into the slit on his tip as he listens to him groan in pain.
"Shh," Minho hushes over him. "Remember?"
Tears stream down Jisung's face. He's squirming all over, helpless in his position. He could resist against Minho, as his hands stay pliant by his head, but he's in for it. He fucking loves it. Loves the taste of leather on his tongue. Loves the grip Minho has in him. Loves the roughness Minho displays for him. So, he can't help but play with the idea of Minho doing anything and everything to satisfy him.
He lets out an obnoxious moan around Minho's fingers, the sound much louder than previously. The other watches him silently. Jisung makes a big deal in moving around on the bed, Minho removing his fist on his cock to hold onto his waste.
"Quiet," Minho warns.
"Wanna come," he slurs, whining and squirming all around. Minho's stare hardens, fingers digging into his skin.
"You won't if you don't stop moving around. Stay still."
"Hnghhfhggh, noooooo—"
Instantly, fingers are pulled from his mouth and suddenly, his hole is empty. Jisung is yet to whine again when hands grab at his hips and turn him over, stomach flat against the bed. He lets out a moan at the quick manhandling when his ass is lifted up and Minho slides right back home, pulling a muffled scream from Jisung's throat.
"Stupid whore," Minho practically laughs jeeringly from behind him. Jisung tries to pick his head up, but it's held back against the pillow by a strong hand, fingers curling tightly in his hair as his cheek is pushed against the pillow, a wail leaving his throat.
A hand collides against his ass cheek, resulting in his body to jolt and for him to let out a slight sob, cock twitching at the contact. Then, there's another strike at his other side. It's rough, with nothing about it holding back. Jisung cries when Minho makes sure it hurts, nails digging into the burning skin enough to make it bruise.
"Gonna..." Jisung starts with a slur, eyes rolling way back into his head. "Gonna come," he babbles, a half-sob racking his chest as he's pounded right into the mattress, Minho's hips slapping right against his sore asscheeks. He's practically gone, mind floating right into another headspace. His limbs are jelly, back still arched and as still propped as he's used for a hole for Minho to abuse.
"You're messed up, honey," Minho remarks against his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. "Absolutely ruined. See how it easy it is to break you?" he taunts, tone laced with venom.
Jisung can't even respond, just moans brokenly against the cushion as drool leaks from his squished lips. Minho chuckles, retracting the hand holding his head down back. He still stays down nonetheless.
"No weapons, Jisungie," Minho continues, thrusts into him hard and deep, watches how his small body just racks up at each movement. "None of that, yet I reduced you into absolutely nothing."
Jisung blinks as more tears run down his cheeks, hair a mess and pink bangs sticking to his forehead. He doesn't respond; just doesn't, because he knows Minho is right and that it will soon end. He fully cherishes the feeling, back arching further as the knot in his stomach tightens.
"Come for me, baby."
Jisung lets himself go with a weak moan, hips canting forward as he comes yet again. It feels so good; the purest and most beautiful form of euphoria running through his veins. He listens as Minho groans airily from behind him, just the sound enough to get him all worked up again. But, he knows he can't be greedy.
Soon, he feels as Minho's release paints his lower back and hot ass cheeks, the sounds of him jerking himself filling the room. They both fall silent with only their shallow breathing exchanged with each other, and that same, prickly feeling engulfs Jisung's heart again as he feels a weight be lifted from his bed, Minho's presence leaving him alone.
He stays in that position for a few minutes, just registering what had happened. He feels as if he'll truly cry now, for a different reason completely. He hates how his happiness and excitement is only a temporary feeling, and that it can vanish just so quickly.
With a sniffle, Jisung sits up on his knees, wincing at the soreness at his rear. His shirt falls over his figure uncomfortably, making him feel so messy and gross. He feels empty, but what did he truly expect from someone like Minho. His tears are welling at his eyes when his door creaks open, footsteps sounding through the room.
"Hey, I managed to find what I was looking for without having have stepped in the house before." Minho says to his back.
Jisung looks back slightly and he quickly wipes his eyes, fully turning now and finding a mild shock creeping up on him as he finds that Minho has supplies in his hand. A rag, some water, and granola bars. Jisung swallows and hates that his heart melts, because it's the least that he could do. Minho takes his place next to him again.
He lets his face be tapped down with the rag, Minho pulling back his sweaty hair so he can feel just less dirty. Jisung keeps his stare down the entire time, afraid he'll just fall more painfully deeper as Minho cleans him up.
"Hey," Jisung says, voice rough and throat sore. Minho lets out a soft hum, lifting his shirt to wipe his back. "If you want me to stop coming by, then just tell me and I will."
At that, Minho's hands pause. Jisung takes it as an opportunity to keep on talking.
"I know... that I'm kind of a bother. When I come to see you, I feel like you somehow push me away without you actually knowing that you do it," Jisung attempts to laugh, but it only comes out as a strangled and hurt sound.
"Why would you think that?"
Jisung's eyes flick up to meet his before they peel away instantly. He shrugs. "Just 'cause."
The rag is instantly discarded. Almost thrown frantically onto his bed. Jisung looks at Minho, but a hand curls around his nape before he could even speak and Minho presses their mouths together into a searing kiss. Jisung's eyes widen, but he kisses back nonetheless, letting Minho suck at his tongue.
"You really are stupid," Minho breathes against his mouth, and Jisung doesn't expect to see a smile on his lips.
"I'm... sorry?"
"Who said I don't like having you by my side, talking to me about your silly hobbies or ridiculous takes," Minho scoffs lightly, and he takes the rag back to fold it neatly.
Jisung blinks owlishly. "I don't know..." he says cluelessly. "It just seems like you want to shoot me every time you see me."
Minho snorts. "Please, Jisung," he says, catching Jisung's eye. "You know I wouldn't dare to lay a single finger on you in that way, darling."
And finally, a rosy blush rises to Jisung's cheeks as he registers his words. He shuffles on his bed, cheesy smile rising to his lips at the statement. "So... so do you really not mind when I'm constantly prodding at you? Annoying you with all of my nonsense rambling?"
Minho gives him a teasing look, eyebrows raising. "I mean, it's like having a pest at my side at times, but..." he trails off. Jisung laughs and takes his pillow to throw it at him, the other shielding himself just in time.
"This is really good to hear," Jisung breathes out, and then he crawls closer so Minho is in reach and he can wrap his arms around him. "Because I really, really like you."
Though Jisung can't see, Minho's entire expression just softens and a genuine smile lines his lips. He brings his arm around him and pats at his back, rubbing slow circles.
"Even if I'm dangerous like that, Jisungie?"
"Yeah," he grins in response, resting his chin on Minho's shoulder. "Say, if I, hypothetically, asked you to kill me, would you?" Jisung asks jokingly, giggling at the little playful statement. Minho lets out an exhale in his hold, and then, there's suddenly a cold and rather pointy object poking at the side of his neck. Jisung's eyes widen, and he pulls back slowly to find Minho holding a knife to his throat.
"Say, darling," Minho starts, a dark look in his eye just blooming in his irises all over again. "You ever wondered what it's like to have a cock up your ass and a dagger at your neck at the same time?"
It's safe to say that Jisung's gleaming eyes answer for the both of them.
⭒ ⭒ ⭒
this os was HEAVILY inspired by these pictures
it's understandable... right?
the brainrot these pics gave me at first glance was absolutely insane. i hope you guys enjoyed, i put the og oneshot i was working on on hold to write this TT. thank you for reading <3