treetiny
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Summary
Jisung was keeping the volume on his phone pretty low, just in case Changbin’s neighbors didn’t approve of his music choices, so he heard when someone next door stumbled out onto their rooftop, clearly on the phone.
Jisung sunk deeper in the water, not wanting to eavesdrop on the stranger but not able to escape overhearing the broken “fuck you too” and the sobs that followed it. Jisung winced, hoping the neighbor would turn around and head back inside, but it sounded like he had sat down on one of the chairs, his crying a bit more muffled now, as if his head was buried in his hands.
Jisung slowly reached for his phone, wanting to silence his music on the off chance that the neighbor stopped crying and heard him. The trellises blocked the view of next door from the hot tub, so as long as Jisung was quiet, the neighbor would never know that Jisung was intruding on a private moment.
Except of course his stupid finger slipped, and instead of pausing the music, he cranked the volume all the way up.
“Shit,” Jisung fumbled with his phone, finally getting it to shut up, but the silence that followed alerted him to one very important fact. He could no longer hear the neighbor crying.
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Minhee denies Jisu's orgasms for weeks at a time, edges her whenever she gets a chance, and revels in the way Jisu's desperate clit twitches with every touch. Whenever Jisu cries through another denial, Minhee will condescendingly remind her that she asked for this.
Jisu hates it. Jisu loves it. Jisu always wants more.
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“Hi, Jisung,” Auntie Lee Know said, in a soft voice that belied her sharp face.
In a move that belied that voice, she kicked Seungmin with the weapons on her feet until he squeezed up against Hyunjin as far as he could, and then she perched on the edge of the booth.
“Um,” Jisung said. Gulped.
“Never seen you around before.”
Facing across from him, she leaned her chin on her closed fist and brought her blood-red lips into a sly smile.
“Oh fucking brother,” Seungmin said, rolling his eyes. He’d seen this before.
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“Jagi—Hyung—”
Minho was hoping he’d sleep a little longer. He grumbles where he’s still pocketed in Jisung’s throat, but then Jisung pulls back, enough that shiny eyes meet his. They’re laying so close together that their bangs kiss and tangle together between them.
“Hyung, what’re you doing?” Jisung whispers.
He looks so lovely, a small animal in a cage peering up at Minho. “Ah, so cute,” he can’t help but say, thumbing the soft skin under Jisung’s eye.
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“You have to understand, baby,” he says. A last ditch effort. “When you’re drunk like this and I’m not… I have to make the decisions here. You can’t—you can’t actually say yes and mean it right now, you aren’t in your right mind.”
Jisung makes a mindless noise of arousal like Minho’s just said the hottest thing in the world, eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah. Yeah, love that, I know. Want you to decide, honey.”
(Jisung horny-stress drinks and absolutely makes it Minho's problem.)