Work Text:
“Jisungieeee I’m home!”
It had been such an impossibly long day. Minho’s boss threatened to fire him on one account of late coming, a shitty customer had dumped her coffee on the floor in the middle of the cafe and he had to work double shift.
The migraine he sported was catastrophic. Earth-shattering. Calamitous.
“Sung-ah?”
Being home already eased the pressure off his head, even just a little. Coming home to Jisung was always the best part of his day, moving in with his best friend proved one of the best decisions he’d ever made.
The best decision when he wasn’t absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly in love.
He knew he’d have no energy to cook, so a takeout bag swung from his left hand as he entered their apartment. He’d stopped at Jisung’s favorite fried chicken shop before coming home.
His belly grumbled just thinking of the food they were yet to share.
Walking further into the house, his ears picked up strange shuffling. The tv was on, perfect. They could sit and continue watching whatever was playing while they ate.
“Han-ah?”
More noise.
What was he doing? He had a habit of watching nature documentaries, maybe he got motivated to work out halfway through. He’s spontaneous like that.
Walking into their living room, the last thing he’d expect to see was Jisung, dick out, mid jerk off session with a dildo shoved up his ass, crappy homemade porno playing on the tv.
His eyes were closed, head thrown onto the backrest of the couch. And Minho can’t move.
Everything in him screamed turn around, walk straight out the door and right back to work or something. If he was still doing the do, that meant he was unaware Minho was home, right?
But oh, did he look so good. Flushed in all the right places, so free, so beautiful. The person of his every desire was naked on their couch, how could Minho ever leave?
“Min—hnnggg Minho-“
Jisung was writhing in their living room, whining and moaning for Minho. It’s almost as if all his wants and wishes erupted to life in his apartment.
There was no way he was leaving now. Might as well bury him right there beneath the carpet. Let him slip through the floorboards and nestle into the concrete.
The bag in his hand, long forgotten, slips from his grip. Thud.
Jisung stills. Waiting, listening. As if finally hearing Minho’s breathing, or sensing his presence, he turns around with big bug eyes and a face flushed for entirely unholy reasons.
“Jisung-ah. Hi.”
“Hy-hyung! It’s not what it looks like, I promise!”
Minho titters at that.
“Jisungie… I didn’t mean to walk in on you but it’s okay, really.”
“I didn’t mean too, okay! I just lost track of time!”
“Jisung-ah you sound like I just walked in on you cheating. You can get off in your own apartment.”
“Minho- wha??”
“Only if you let me watch.”
Ignoring the bag of food on the floor, Minho stalks over to the armchair at the side of the living room in perfect view of Jisung. He settles in instantly, legs spread, arm supporting his head.
“You may continue.”
Jisung sits there, dumbfounded.
“That wasn’t exatly a question, Jisungie, baby.”
Jisung thrives off of command in everyday life, who knows what would happen if the switch flipped sexual. Minho knows. He loves to not have to think, or to be told the better option even if he knows himself. A massive people pleaser, and who does he love to please more than Minho?
“O–okay”
Minho leans back. This ought to be better than whatever he thought he’d come home to watch on tv. His migraine seemingly gone, or long forgotten.
Jisung starts tentatively, almost scared. As if Minho would whip out a camera halfway through and start laughing in his face.
Maybe he’s into humiliation. Who knows.
“Now I don’t know what to do”, he complains, his voice all breathy and light. Minho could tell he’s embarrassed.
“Close your eyes. Continue where you left off.”
Jisung groans, clenches his eyes shut, and in a moment of unconcealed weakness, he gives in.
With the dildo still in his ass, he rolls his palm over his cock, giving himself a few aborted thrusts. Jisung presses down roughly into the slit, and his hips kick up in interest, the sight sending a shockwave through Minho.
He swipes his thumb over the beads of precum, gathering the slick release and continues to stroke himself, the glide smoother.
After a few pumps, he seems to grow restless, needy.
With a trembling hand, he reaches down between his legs and pulls the silicone all the way out. He flips over, lifting onto his knees, back arched and ass presented into the air. A perfect display for Minho.
He positions the dildo back at his entrance. He rolls the tip of the toy along his opening, not yet diving in. Teasing himself and Minho.
“Fuck.. baby”, Minho’s breath shudders out of him. Jisung’s hips grind back on instinct, and the head of the dildo slips in with barely any resistance.
Minho groans at the sight, clearly just as affected as Jisung. Just palming himself through his jeans has him more worked up than normal. Just that touch of friction has him louder than he usually allows himself to be.
In quick succession, Jisung pulls the dildo out and slams it back inside, poised right at the bundles of nerves so deep. He cries out, thrusting the toy faster and faster, aiming each time at his prostate.
It’s so much. It’s overwhelming. Minho might explode.
“Minho-“, he moans on a particularly deep thrust, forehead pressed into the couch cushions.
For a split second, the discomfort in his wrist overpowers the pleasure everywhere else. The momentary pause causes Jisung to loose his rhythm. He picks back up, but his wrist starts to cramp, aching to extents he can’t ignore.
Turning over onto his back again, legs still spread for Minho, he glides a cushion under his hips to help with the angle, and dives back in. His cock is angry red from going untouched, dripping onto his stomach.
Lost in a daze, Jisung drags his fingers through the mess he’s made, paints his abs till he’s glistening in the faded lamplight.
Minho groans, fisting his cock to the sight.
“You’re fucking insane”, he breathes.
Jisung moans loud, the breath knocked from his lungs. His thrusts get quicker, aimed deeper but— he whines, frustrated. The angle isn’t right, just a little too off, the dildo not reaching far enough to hit where he needs.
Minho’s dick feels like it’s about to explode. He’s panting through it, heart rattling inside his chest. The sight of his Jisung alone, flushed and needy, is enough to send him hurtling over the edge if he doesn’t pace his breaths.
Fuck, he just needs—more.
Jisung is watching him, and Minho wants— he needs him.
“Jisungie..” Minho says, muttering under his breath. His gaze is magnetized to Jisung, as though he could hardly stand the thought of tearing his eyes away from the sight before him.
“Minho “, he puffs out weakly. Minho could tell he’s struggling to keep his eyes open and focused, his entire body trembling from how far gone he is, “Please,” he whines.
The minute they touch, Minho thinks he’d explode. Detonate like a bomb.
Jisung’s hips swivel and grind down onto the toy on their own accord. Another low moan slips past his lips, Jisung’s eyelids drooping.
“ Oh jagi,” Minho drawls in that adoring tone of his. Jisung whimpers, driving back down onto the dildo, desperate. Minho finally moves closer to the couch. To where they both need.
“Touch me,” Jisung says, pleading, “help me”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Here?,” Minho asks, gliding his hand up the underside of Jisung’s thigh.
“Mmh— fuck — yes, please.”
Jisung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as Minho closes the distance between them.
Minho’s knees press to the edge of the couch, studying Jisung below him. His jaw falls open and a little ragged noise leaves him.
“You’re beautiful, jagiya. So pretty laid out like this for me.”
Jisung keens, hand roving over his chest, moving down until he’s thumbing at his slit. “Hurry,” he urges, his head tipping back and throat bared.
“Fuck. Okay baby, I’ve got you.”
And finally, Minho is there. There with his Jisung, touching him and holding him like he’d dreamed of for so many years. The thought alone makes his brain hurt.
Minho stares at the base of the dildo, at Jisung’s tight hole sucking the toy in and his cheeks dust rosy pink. It warms Jisung to think Minho feels a touch of nervousness too.
“Can I?….”, Minho asks again, but there’s really no need.
“Anything,” Jisung breaths, “you can do anything you want to me.”
“Fuck—okay. Alright lemme—“, his tongue darts out, sweeping over his bottom lip.
Jisung writhes, another whine escaping his throat. He throws his head over the back of the couch again.
Minho shushes him, lowering his mouth over the soft flesh of Jisung’s thighs. Kneeled between his legs, Minho is exactly where he’d always been destined to belong. Kneeled before someone worth adoring. Someone worth kneeling for. He kisses gently, the barest hint of pressure, trailing a line of fire up to his groin.
They both go a little dizzy when he sucks a bruise into supple flesh, right at the junction where thigh meets hip. Minho’s hands are strong and firm, one on his knee and the other circling his upper thigh, holding him open and hefting Jisung’s legs over his shoulders.
Minho can’t believe what’s happening, how close he is. How much he can take.
Without warning, Minho tugs on the base of the dildo, pulling it free and making Jisung cry out, clenching around nothing. Before Jisung can protest, a heady breath falls from Minho’s lips.
“Fuck, Jisungie…”
It’s low and reedy and Minho feels the shiver that racks through Jisung. It runs through him, too. Up and down his spine, tingling every nerve. He’s alight with pleasure, passionate, yet burning nonetheless.
High risk, high reward, right?
He wants to be engulfed, completely encompassed by the flames if it meant dying at Jisung’s feet. Between his legs.
“You’re so desperate,” Minho mutters, catching a thumb on Jisung’s swollen rim, tsking in reprimand at the gush of lube that comes leaking out, “What’s got you so desperate, baby?”
Jisung whines, rocking his hips down onto Minho’s fingers.
Minho pulls back in response, not far enough to draw his warmth back, but enough that Jisung knows not to push. He waits patiently as Minho looks down at the toy, coated in lube, then back up. In Minho’s head, his thoughts ran wild and unrestrained. His eyes darkened with wicked thoughts.
“Who were you thinking about?”
Jisung visibly stills, his body going tense.
“Tell me Jisungie, or you won’t get to finish.”
He avoids Minho’s eyes as he fidgets with his fingers. Still needing encouragement, Minho reaches up, rolling a nipple between his fingers.
The answer flies out of Jisung mouth, solicited by the stimulation.
“You.”
Minho’s resulting, breathy, “Fuck,” seems to send waves of pleasure through Jisung as Minho finally positions the dildo at his entrance. He gives him no chance to adjust before thrusting it back in. Moans of gratitude are punched out as Minho uses the toy to thoroughly fuck him. When Minho tucks his elbow closer, it changes the angle enough to hit Jisung’s prostate.
Jisung jolts and whines, high in his throat. Fuck, he’s so close. Minho seems to know this as he keeps fucking Jisung harder and harder, grinding the dildo into his most sensitive parts.
Jisung’s neglected cock bounces on his stomach with every thrust, and Minho’s eyes glaze over, looking as fucked out as ever, as if he’s the one being fucked. He lowers his mouth closer to Jisung’s dick, pumps it once, twice, before engulfing the head.
Jisung sees stars.
The dildo slams into his prostate, relentless, as his hot tongue swirls over the head of his cock and Jisung’s vision goes black. His fingers search for Minho’s, intertwining and holding tight. Jisung comes so hard that he shakes, his entire body trembling from the seemingly unending waves of pleasure. Jisung’s nails bite into the back of Minho’s hand, and he doesn’t stop, hollowing his cheeks and sucking down all Jisung has to offer. He works Jisung through the last of his orgasm, just past the point of overstimulation.
Jisung falls slack and boneless on the couch. Minho slips the dildo out of him, letting out a rough breath. Jisung still looked dazed, as though he couldn’t believe what just happened.
Minho sure as shit couldn’t believe it.
He’s pretty certain this is a dream. The best dream he’s ever had in his entire fucking life.
While Jisung still tries to catch his breath, Minho can’t help but let his desire take control. He’s still hard and leaking in his jeans, and against his own will, his hips snap down to grind against the edge of the couch. He tries his best to stay quiet, but his breath gets punched out in a sound somewhere between a muffled grunt and a drawn out moan.
Jisung looks up in his half consciousness to see the older frantically rutting down on the cushions.
Minho puffs out a breath as he steels himself, forcing his hips to still. He feels Jisung’s hand tighten around his where they’re still connected. A blush burns up Minho’s neck, spreading across his cheeks and tinting his ears red. He’s so aroused it hurts.
“Minho,” Jisung rasps.
Minho’s eyes fall closed as another moan is punched out of him, richer, hips twitching foward on their own.
Fuck. He needs to touch Jisung, like, yesterday.
“C’mere,” Jisung breathes, as though he’s as desperate for Minho’s touch as the other is for him.
Jisung holds Minho’s hand and pulls, and Minho goes, falling over Jisung until he’s sitting in his lap, straddling the younger’s naked body.
“Off.” He says, tugging at Minho’s shirt. And Minho complies, helping Jisung pull his shirt over his head and toss it away. Jisung’s hands are quick to fall to Minho’s waist, and the older arches into it, driving forward with a roll of his hips.
Jisung groans, his spent cock twitching at the friction of Minho’s jeans against him.
Jisung stares up at Minho, eyes trailing paths of fire along Minho’s bare body. He has the urge to wrap his arms around himself, to cover up, but he doesn’t. This was his Jisung. He would offer himself in every way possible.
Minho puffs out a weak breath.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that.”
Jisung blinks, flexing his fingers along the plush of Minho’s waist.
“Like what?”
Minho’s head tips down, not wanting to meet the younger’s eyes. His earlier bravado now torn by desire.
“Like what hyung? Tell me.”
Minho shivers, and Jisung instinctively holds him closer.
“Like you wanna eat me whole.”
“I do,” He says.
Minho looks at him then, eyes searching.
It’s seconds of syrupy tension. Minho’s heart is pounding, gaze flickering to Jisung’s mouth— Minho’s entire world fractures as Jisung crashes their mouths together.
The kiss is searing hot and fast, all tongue and passion, needy as Minho moans into Jisung’s mouth. Jisung hums in pleasure and the sound vibrates through his entire chest.
They are so wrapped up in each other, there might be no way to ever separate again, two souls burning into one body.
Minho kisses Jisung like he’s making up for lost time, as if he’s committing every sound and taste and feel of him to memory. Minho kisses Jisung like he’s starved, as if he’s wanted this for longer than either can even fathom. Jisung could not untwine himself from Minho if he tried, their hearts beating in sync with one another.
Jisung shifts, jostling Minho in his lap, who immediately reaches for his shoulders. Jisung works his knee between Minho’s legs, and when the elder settles back down, his clothes cock drags over Jisung’s thigh.
Minho sucks in a breath.
With his hands, Jisung encourages him to chase his pleasure, to use him as nothing more than a big warm pillow to hump.
He tries to keep some semblance of control, holding eye contact and rutting forward slowly. It’s antagonizing, but he does it intentionally, teasing himself over Jisung.
Jisung seems to grow impatient, though, so he leans forward, hands charting Minho’s back. He latches his mouth onto Minho’s pulse point, sucking and biting tender flesh.
Minho cries out and ruts forward in earnest.
Jisung grins into Minho’s neck, sliding his hands down Minho’s waist and taking control of his hips. He sets a quick pace, urging Minho to fuck himself over his thigh.
“ That’s it,” Jisung encourages as Minho begins to move faster, “come on baby, you’re doing so well.”
Minho practically glows, preening from Jisung’s praise, needing no guidance now as he grinds down onto Jisung’s thigh with reckless abandon. Minho trembles, shaking with exertion. Jisung flexes his thigh and Minho stutters, losing his rhythm and gasping out.
Jisung kisses Minho. Far more than tongue and teeth and swollen lips. Minho pants into Jisung’s mouth, and he takes it gratefully, swallowing it down and begging for more.
“You’re beautiful,” Jisung breathes, “so fucking beautiful.”
Minho whines, low in the back of his throat, and Jisung smirks a stupid, lopsided grin, seemingly thinking he’d cracked Minho’s shell and unlocked his praise kink or something.
Minho’s hands desperately snatch Jisung’s, threading their fingers together and holding in tight.
Minho falls apart and Jisung watches with something akin to reverence.
There’s a crease in Minho’s brow as he comes untouched, fucking himself through his orgasm, humping Jisung’s bare thigh until he’s fully spent. Minho falls forward, leaning his sweaty forehead onto Jisung’s shoulder. Jisung can feel the puff of Minho’s hot breath against the hollow of his throat.
“That was—” fuck , “the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
With his free hand, Jisung cards his fingers through Minho’s sweat slick hair, separating the clumps and brushing them off his forehead. Minho practically purrs, melting into Jisung.
“Who knew you’d turn all cute and whiny when you’re desperate?,” Jisung teases, and Minho tucks his face away into the crook of Jisung’s neck.
He thinks he could die happy like this, if not for the cum drying in his pants. Everything else is perfect, though. He can’t imagine it’s any more comfortable for Jisung with lube actively leaking out his hole. They’re both filthy, but really, Minho wouldn’t have it any other way.
Minho could sleep like this, even as gross as it feels.
With Jisung holding him so close, he’s content. He pushes out of that warmth, the urge to care overpowering his drowsiness. He scoops Jisung into his arms and takes him back to his room. Then, he lightly pads across the hall for a washcloth to wipe Jisung down.
Jisung’s eyes flutter open when he feels Minho slip in after him, wrapping his arms around his torso and pressing kisses to his forehead.
“Sleep, Sung-ah”
Jisung hums happily, already in a doze.
Minho drifts away only minutes later, to dream about a beautiful boy and how much his heart belongs to him.