₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.
Seungmin had whistled quietly when Minho and Jisung stumbled into the flat together.
He was sat on the couch with Felix, who had shot straight up into worried mother mode. Seungmin looked surprisingly less worried - it almost seemed like this was something he was used to.
"Follow me." Seungmin's voice was monotone as he beckoned Minho with him.
Jisung wasn't sure what to do with himself, but he didn't have much time to think before Felix was up and beside him, pandering to him and peering closely at the blood that was drying on Jisung's face.
"What happened? Are you okay? Is Minho okay? Did you call the police? What..."
"Don't worry, we're fine," Jisung said with a small smile that revealed a glimpse of teeth still outlined with blood. "Some idiots were talking shit, and Minho..."
Felix rolled his eyes. "Minho was being Minho."
A frown passed slowly over Jisung's face. Why did both of them seem so used to this? He'd fought well, in all fairness, but Jisung hadn't considered that this was because he was some kind of crazy street-fighter. Or a troublemaker, even.
"Don't worry!" Felix backtracked when he realised Jisung was deep in thought. "He's not, like, a psychopath. Minho hyung can just be a bit protective of things that he likes. People think he has a temper, but I don't know..."
"I think he was just scared," murmured Jisung.
The image of Minho, the coldness that lay over his eyes like a film when they had paused for breath after running away from the fight. The way this softened. The way he always seemed to soften, when Jisung was involved.
Protective of things that he likes. So he must like me, then?
"Seungmin will patch him up, so don't worry," reassured Felix with a smile. "He'll get you fixed up, too. But he likes me to wipe the dry blood away so it's easier for him."
Again, unease at the way this seemed like a familiar process. But Jisung stayed quiet as Felix dabbed at the cuts on his face. He tried to hold in a hiss when the damp cloth nudged any of the wounds that were still open. Felix was gentle, slow.
Seungmin was the opposite. He had brought Minho back into the living room and left him with Felix, not even speaking to Jisung, just cocking his head and expecting Jisung to follow him. Jisung did.
Seungmin used firm, steady fingers to pull at the skin around the wounds. Not gentle, nor slow, but efficient.
"This will hurt." Seungmin said simply.
And it did. It hurt like a bitch as he used fine surgical thread to stitch up the cut under Jisung's eye, but unlike Felix, this didn't make him slow down. He just kept going.
They didn't talk. Seungmin seemed deep in thought. They hadn't spoken much before, more just sly digs shot at each other, but it still made Jisung feel weirdly uncomfortable that they were sat in complete silence.
"All good? Anything else hurting?" Seungmin asked as he packed his equipment back up into the small first-aid kit he'd brought with him.
"No, all- Actually, this might be a bit too extreme, but one of them got me right in the ribs. They still feel sore and I'm worried one might be broken."
Seungmin gestured for Jisung to stand up. He was pressing lightly at Jisung's waist and ribs, and Jisung had to hold his breath to stop himself from crying. It lasted only a few minutes but Jisung felt as though Seungmin had fixed and then rebroken all of his ribs in such a short space of time.
"Don't seem broken. Keep an eye on it, if it doesn't get better, might need to see a doctor. A real doctor."
Jisung smiled and thanked Seungmin for his help. He was about to head back in search of Minho when Seungmin's voice halted him.
"How do you know about Song Eunha?" Jisung could tell Seungmin was trying to keep his tone light, but there was something accusatory just below the surface.
"Oh, I don't. I've never heard that name before until Chan mentioned it."
Jisung was being honest, but Seungmin narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"Are you lying?" he asked. Jisung shook his head no, bewildered.
"Should I know who that is?" Jisung probed gently.
"If you really don't, you'll have to ask Minho." Seungmin was noncommittal. "But tell your friend to be careful. It's a... It's a sensitive subject."
Jisung felt like his head could explode. He didn't like secrets or questions, and recently, his life seemed to be full of them. Song Eunha? The name meant nothing to him. But he'd seen how Minho had reacted when Chan had brought her up, and Jisung really didn't want to be on the receiving end of Minho's disdain.
"You okay?" Minho's voice brought Jisung back to reality.
He hadn't even realised that he had headed back into the living room, where Minho and Felix were sat together on the couch, heads bent in conversation. He didn't realise Seungmin had followed him, either.
"He's fine. Watch out for his ribs, they're definitely a little bruised. You'll need to keep the stitches in for around a week. I can take them out for you if you need me to."
Minho nodded at Seungmin, not saying anything but conveying his gratitude with his body language. And then he was stood by Jisung. Leading him up the stairs, back to the bedroom Jisung had woken up in not so long ago.
"Do I need to force you into bed this time?" Minho asked, voice feigning darkness.
Jisung grinned at him and felt the motion tug lightly at the cuts on his face. Minho reached up gently, traced the spot where Seungmin had applied a band-aid to cover the stitches. Jisung watched him intently.
"Will you stay with me again?" he asked quietly. Minho smiled fondly, answering the question with just that expression.
He gave Jisung some clothes and they faced away from each other as they got changed. Jisung was anxious, and Minho seemed able to pick up on this. They'd been kissing not too long ago and now they felt like strangers. Or maybe schoolfriends, comfortable but not close.
"C'mon," Minho murmured, lifting up the duvet so Jisung could crawl in first. Minho followed closely beside him.
Jisung had faced the wall away from the older boy, but this didn't last long. Minho touched him delicately like he could fall to pieces at any moment as he rolled Jisung onto his side and tilted his face so they were looking at each other. The room was lit with just a small lamp and it cast shadows across Minho's side profile. Every time, Jisung was surprised that Minho could get even more beautiful than the first time he had seen him.
"I'm scared." Jisung's voice was no more than a whisper.
Minho frowned in concern. "Of me?"
Jisung shook his head. "Of you getting hurt."
"I suppose I need a skinny little rockstar to keep me safe, then," answered Minho with a pout that drew a small giggle from Jisung.
It was the slowest, sweetest motion, as Minho pushed his head further towards the younger so their noses were touching gently at the tip. He paused like this for a moment, sighed contently, drifted his eyes shut - happy to be here, in his company.
And then as it always seemed to, a yell from downstairs ruined the moment: Are you two sleeping in my fucking room again?
Minho rolled his eyes, threw Jisung an apologetic glance, before he sat up in the bed and roared back his answer.
"Sleep in Hyunjin's room or move out!"
Seungmin's answer was a groan, loud enough that they could hear it even from upstairs, and Jisung smiled at this.
"I could've gone home. I know it must be annoying to share a room," he said quietly as Minho settled back into the bed beside him.
Minho grinned teasingly at Jisung. "If you had gone home, I couldn't have done this."
Any thoughts, questions, concerns, queries, worries, were things of the past as Jisung felt Minho lean over and press their lips together. Their fourth kiss, but already becoming Jisung's safe space. He let himself melt into it.
When he did, Minho pushed further. He used a hand to push the hair out of Jisung's eyes and parted his lips slowly so that they could explore each other. Jisung pushed himself closer, lifting his hips so they could align with Minho's. A gasp broke their kiss when the heat from Minho's thighs pressed against his in a slow roll.
Minho was gazing up at him lazily, mouth curved into a small smile, monitoring Jisung's response.
"You're really easy to wind up," hummed the older with another roll of his hips.
Jisung almost saw stars. He could feel the soft cotton of Minho's sweatpants, but below them there was a hard definition of muscle that felt heavenly as it connected with Jisung's crotch. He could feel that same warmth starting to rise in his belly, his face, and his...
"Want you more than anything," whined Jisung as he pulled Minho in for a deeper kiss.
He let the older bite lightly at his lower lip, let him knot his fingers into the hair that tickled the nape of Jisung's neck, let him continue with that leisurely grinding motion that was so unrushed it was almost painful.
Jisung didn't know what had come over himself as he snaked one hand down between them, lingering at first on Minho's hips, and then palming gently at the older's crotch. There was something hard underneath, scarily big. Jisung was delighted to realise the first point of contact had made Minho's breath hitch audibly in his throat.
Less delighted when Minho giggled into their kiss, pulled away slightly, reached his own hand down to lace his fingers with Jisung's away from his pants.
"Please?" Jisung was almost begging. He wasn't looking at Minho, but instead down at the point where their hands met.
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about this moment. How it would feel, what it would like, to give himself completely to Minho and let him take whatever he wanted. He knew he was willing to give up anything.
"As much as I would love to hear you beg for it," Minho purred into the younger's ear, "Not now."
It was cold water over Jisung. He pulled away sharply and glared at Minho.
"You started it," he grumbled.
"Now I'm ending it," answered Minho, frustrating words in the sweetest tone.
Jisung felt like a child, sulky and annoyed that he wasn't allowed what he so desperately wanted. With a huff, he flopped over onto his back so he didn't have to look at Minho. The movement sent a throbbing pain through his still sore ribs and forced a whimper through pursed lips.
Minho nodded, even though Jisung couldn't see him. "That's why."
Jisung just complained under his breath. He could feel Minho's grin, even without looking at him, and this made him even more annoyed. Was Minho enjoying this? Taking him to the edge, teasing him?
Seemed he was, because his next sentence tipped Jisung even closer to desperation.
"And we aren't doing this with my housemates here. I don't want you to be quiet. Want to hear it all."
"Tomorrow?" Jisung asked hopefully. Minho sighed dramatically.
There was a brief silence, and Jisung felt his hopes fall.
But then Minho angled himself so he was curled up against Jisung, one leg bent so it could nudge gently into the crook between Jisung's, his arm circling around the other boy's waist and bringing him close enough that Minho could rest his head on Jisung's body.
Another silence. Another whisper from Minho.
"There'll be no one home in the morning."
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.
i think this book might draw to a close soon :-( but spicy!minho is revived in sweet&sour which im still in the process of planning out!!!