Open the door
Open the fucking door.
Jiho, if you don’t open the fucking door right now you are going to fucking regret it.
Jiho didn’t mean to ignore Minhyuk. He was showering, so he didn’t hear the first text. Then he thought that the older man sent it to him accidentally. But the third text came and he rushed to the door to open it, hastily wrapping a towel around his hips. It’s never good to anger Minhyuk, the dancer is pretty quiet most of the time, but when he gets angry things get pretty bad.
He doesn’t really look angry when Jiho finally opens the door, smirking slightly when he sees the rapper’s attire.
“I thought you texted me by accident,” Jiho mutters.
“Why would you think that?” Minhyuk brushes past him, not waiting for the invitation.
“Come on, you don’t ever text me. You don’t even answer my calls, how was I supposed to know you meant it this time.”
“Fair point,” Minhyuk agrees, already lounging on Jiho’s bed.
“Have you been… drinking, hyung?” he asks hesitantly. They aren’t very close, or at least as close as they should be after so many years of being in one band, and the dancer doesn’t really visit him often, if at all. Jiho can’t remember the last time it happened, probably when Kyung decided to hang out with the whole group at his place because it’s cheaper than going to a bar.
“No, why? Do I seem drunk?”
“I don’t know...”
It’s his flat, but Jiho doesn’t know where he is supposed to sit. Finally, the older man points at the spot next to him, so he obediently sits down, legs pressed together, so he won’t violate Minhyuk’s personal space. Only the dancer puts a hand on his thigh, and Jiho is more confused than ever.
“Well, I’m not drunk. I wanted to talk to you about something,” the dancer takes a deep breath, suddenly looking slightly nervous. “I’m not sure if you know, but June is a pride month.”
“Oh,” Jiho didn’t know, he doesn’t necessarily check such things. “Are you coming out to me? Hyung, I know you are gay, we all do, it’s not a problem. Not at all, hyung.”
“Of course you know, you walked in on me making out with a guy before,” Minhyuk squeezes Jiho’s thigh, but the rapper isn’t sure what’s that supposed to mean.
“Yeah, that. It’s okay, but I’m proud of you..?” he adds with some hesitation.
“Fuck off,” Minhyuk rolls his eyes so hard he almost shakes with it. “That’s not why I’m telling you this, you dumbass. June is the pride month, and I figured we should finally stop dancing around each other. I know you like me, even if you still seem a bit scared of me.”
Jiho tries to stand up, but the older man holds him in place. He wants to run away and hide, his cheeks already burn with shame.
“My God, you really are cute,” Minhyuk sighs and pulls him closer, until Jiho has no choice but to sit on his lap. He is even more confused now, everything is moving so fast, and he has no control over it. “How long has it been since you’ve been touched?” Minhyuk caresses his face, thumbs pressing against his parted lips. “Since Seolhyun? No, of course not, silly me, you broke up because you didn’t want her to touch you. Did Kwon take pity on you, jack you off in the bathroom once or twice, while his girlfriend wasn’t looking? Or maybe Dean, during one of your brainstorming sessions?” Minhyuk doesn’t like Hyuk much, and he never calls him by his given name. Jiho shivers, unable to focus on Minhyuk’s words while the dancer’s hands are all over his body.
He doesn’t, can’t object, when the older man strips him. He can only moan and spread his legs as the older man touches him.
“I can’t believe I let you fuck me after you insulted me,” Jiho mutters, slightly amazed by his own stupidity. After a beat, he adds, “I can’t believe you came here just to fuck me.”
Minhyuk stills, tongue still pressed against Jiho’s happy trail, where he is licking him clean. He looks up, and this time his eyes are soft, not a hint of cockiness in them.
“No, baby, no, I didn’t come here for that. I might have been too forward, but I wanted to… confess, I guess. I like you a lot. I know I don’t usually show it, but it’s true.”
“Ah,” that’s not what Jiho expected, and he doesn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t think Minhyuk liked him. After all, the dancer does tend to ignore his calls when they are not promoting. “So you want to be boyfriends?”
The other man cringes at how juvenile it sounds, “Yeah, I guess, if you have to put it this way.”
Minhyuk is jealous, Jiho is confused, but they work it out. In their own way.
Jiho is at a party, even though he doesn’t really want to be there. It’s Minhyuk who wanted to come and then disappeared five minutes after they arrived. Jiho doesn’t exactly need supervision or help, he does alright at human interactions, but it would be nice if the person who dragged him here would’ve stayed with him for at least half an hour. But no, Minhyuk spotted Hanhae and left to hang out with him, and Jiho’s relationship with the older rapper is shaky at best, so it would make for a very awkward party, if he tried to join them.
Instead, he mingles until he finds someone he knows well. It turns out to be Namjoon. They haven’t talked in a while, both busy with their careers. Jiho likes Namjoon well enough, they used to be close when they were younger. Then life happened and they drifted apart, but they still message each other every now and then, so it’s good to catch up in real life.
Jiho isn’t quite sure how did he find himself in this situation. They are no longer in the living room with other people. Instead, he is pressed against the bedroom door, and Namjoon’s eyes are incredibly dark but soft, as he closes the distance between the two of them. Or at least tries, because Jiho jerks away, putting a hand on his chest.
“I can’t. I’m seeing someone, kinda.”
“Kinda?” Namjoon asks with too much hope in his voice.
“Yeah. Not sure if we are mutually exclusive, but… I am, I guess.”
Namjoon seems to want to add something, but Minhyuk appears out of nowhere, possessively wrapping his arm around Jiho’s waist.
“Oh,” Namjoon says softly, gives them a small bow and disappears into the living room, not giving the oldest man a chance to react.
Minhyuk watches him leave before turning back to Jiho and saying with anger, “He tried to kiss you. And you almost let him.”
“No, I didn’t. I stopped him.”
“But you wanted him to kiss you,” the dancer presses, and it sounds like an accusation.
“You are mine,” Minhyuk growls, hands squeezing Jiho’s hips.
“Are you mine, though?” he fires back, tired of feeling insecure.
“Of course I am, what the fuck, Jiho?! How can you even ask that?”
“I don’t know! Sometimes I’m not even sure if you love me at all!” he doesn’t really mean to use the l-word, but it slips out without his conscious thought, and he refuses to take it back once he said it.
“You are so infuriating at times,” Minhyuk’s voice is colder than it’s ever been, at least Jiho doesn’t remember it being aimed at him before. “Stop acting like a child, if you want to be coddled, then go fuck Yukwon.”
Jiho doesn’t think he is being unreasonable, but he realizes that whatever he says right now will probably sound like whining to the older man, so he looks down, feeling like a scolded child. Maybe Minhyuk is right, after all.
The ride home is tense, and Jiho thinks he will be sleeping on a couch, or maybe he will have to get a cab to his own flat. But the older man surprises him by pressing him against the bed and fucking him more roughly than ever, one hand wrapped around his throat. It’s different, but good, and Jiho can’t feel his legs afterwards.
It doesn’t change the fact that they haven’t really discussed the issues they have.
Minhyuk is still asleep when Jiho has to leave for the meeting he scheduled before he knew about the party. He doesn’t want to go, not only because he is still tired, but also because he doesn’t want to leave the warm bed with his… boyfriend in it. He never thought that his personal life would interfere with his work, his biggest passion, yet there he is, unable to leave the room like a lovesick fool.
He does leave, because he knows better than to neglect his responsibilities for a guy.
It’s easier once he is in a meeting, then in a studio, and by the end of a day he goes back to his own flat, completely exhausted. It’s already three in the morning, he doubts that Minhyuk would want to see him this late anyway.
In the next few days he is busy, always so busy, that he forgets to answer Minhyuk’s text. And then it gets easier to immerse himself in work again, in what he does best. Fanxy Child is always a great distraction, since Hyoseob never shies away from collaborating with him, and Dongwook always needs his input when it comes to writing new songs.
Then Dongwook posts a picture of them, all of them, and it’s nothing big, just something to show the world that they are all alive and well, that Jiho is alive, but Minhyuk is not very happy about it. He comes to Hyuk’s studio, which he never does, just to drag Jiho out of it. Well, no, there is no real force involved, but Minhyuk wraps one, strong hand around his bicep and he has no choice but to follow the older man, apologetically smiling at Hyuk just before they leave.
“You ignored my messages,” Minhyuk says in the car.
So he does, unsure of what’s going to happen later. He is mildly surprised when they park in front of Minhyuk’s house. But that’s not the end of surprises, when they are finally inside Jiho expects to be, yet again, scolded, but Minhyuk gives him a tired, sad look instead.
“I understand that you are a very busy person, Ji, but the least you could do is message me. Instead, I go on Instagram and find you hanging out with other guys, while I don’t even deserve a fucking text.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were mad at me, and then life got busy again, you know how it is,” he curls his shoulders, trying to look smaller.
“All I needed was a text. It takes what, a minute tops to send one,” Minhyuk stares at him for a few seconds, not saying anything more, and Jiho wonders if he should apologize again. But then, the older man takes his hand and kisses it softly. “I find talking about feelings difficult. It’s not my style. But I do get jealous when I see you with other men, and I care about you a lot, so please stop acting like I won’t care if you leave.”
“I just wanted to know where we stand. That’s all.”
The dancer smiles at him, it’s almost tender, and Jiho is most definitely in love. He wishes it would be easier, but that’s what he gets for letting the older man slip inside.
Because it’s Minhyuk, the tenderness doesn’t last long.
“Now drop your pants and turn around, I’m going to eat you out,” the dancer says, but he doesn’t really wait for Jiho to obey and turns him around himself, already working on his belt.
“Ah, thank you,” Jiho awkwardly says, because no one has ever done it for him before, and it’s a rather unexpected turn of events.
“Yeah, that’s the only prep you are getting, so better open up well.”
Minhyuk rolls his hips one last time and comes to a stop, breath slightly elevated from the dancing, even though it’s just a simple routine to keep him in shape.
“Hyung...” this time, Jiho is whining, and the dancer finally turns to look at the younger man. Jiho is staring right back at him, eyes wide open and he too is panting, even though all he did is watch.
“What do you want?”
“You,” the rapper blurts out unashamedly and crawls towards him on hands and knees. Minhyuk can see the outline of his boyfriend’s stiff cock, and his own twitches in response. He could make it easier on the younger man and come forward, but he doesn’t really feel like it. He waits instead, not saying anything. But Jiho doesn’t need any encouragement, once he is close enough to touch, he pulls down Minhyuk’s sweatpants and immediately gets to work, jacking off and licking his dick until it’s nice and stiff.
“What got you so worked up, hmm?”
“You are so hot when you dance, hyung. So fucking hot.”
“Yeah? You just noticed?”
“No, I got really good at hiding boners after our rehearsals,” Jiho gives him a cheeky smile before he sucks Minhyuk all the way in until his lips wrap around the base.
Jiho’s hair is still slightly fluffy from the photoshoot he had earlier, curling around the ears, almost making him look cute. Almost, because the way Minhyuk’s thick cock stretches his lips is just obscene.
He doesn’t feel the rush, but Jiho is sucking him like a man starved, deepthroating him easily and moaning with pleasure. Minhyuk lets him enjoy himself for a while, but he doesn’t really want to come down Jiho’s throat, so after a particularly strong suck he none-too-gently pulls him away by the hair.
“All fours,” he orders, and Jiho swiftly obeys.
The prep doesn’t take long, his sexual appetite is slightly bigger than normal, and the rapper doesn’t seem to mind being fucked every day. Still, Jiho is nice and tight when he slides in, there is always slight resistance before his body lets Minhyuk in.
They don’t have much time, the room is theirs for another fifteen minutes, so he doesn’t even try to draw it out. It’s a simple pleasure, fucking Jiho as hard as he can, watching his face, twisted in pleasure, in the mirrors.
Minhyuk appreciates simplicity.
Jiho’s cock is bright red and swollen, leaking so much precum that the tops of his thighs are all wet. He really must have enjoyed Minhyuk’s dancing. The dancer rewards him by changing the angle to brush against his prostate with every push.
He is so focused on Jiho that he almost misses it when the door opens, revealing smiling Yukwon. The smile doesn’t last long, it soon turns into shock. Minhyuk didn’t know it was Yukwon, who booked the room after them, he might have thought it through better, if he did, since the younger man is always early.
But the most important thing is that Yukwon, instead of leaving, stands there, looking at them, and Minhyuk can see that it’s not just shock. There is something in his face, something ugly… a hint of jealousy, maybe.
So he does what he does best, antagonizes the other man further. He presses Jiho’s face against the floor, so his boyfriend doesn’t notice the other dancer, and fucks into him even rougher than before. Jiho is definitely going to have friction burns on his hands and knees, but his moans aren’t any quieter than before. Minhyuk smirks at Yukwon. It’s ugly and primal, it’s about power, but he enjoys claiming Jiho right in front of another person. Especially if this person is Yukwon, who has a soft spot for his boyfriend and maybe, just maybe, wouldn’t mind claiming Jiho as his, if the situation was different. It’s too late now, because Jiho is Minhyuk’s, and he is not going to give him up.
Finally, Yukwon backs down, but his hands shake when he quietly closes the door.
Minhyuk leans down to bite Jiho’s neck, tipping the younger man over. He needs five more thrusts before he is coming inside his boyfriend and almost crushing him, when his legs give up.
Surprisingly, Jiho is the first one to recover.
“We really shouldn’t have done it here. The floor is all dirty now.”
Minhyuk eyes the cum staining the floor, “Maybe I should make you clean it up. With your tongue.”
It’s meant to be a joke, but Jiho looks like he might really do it. It’s scary how much power he has over the younger man. Scary, but satisfying and arousing.
“No, baby, I’m joking. Not here.”
Jiho nods and gracelessly plops down on Minhyuk’s lap instead, like an overgrown puppy. It shouldn’t make Minhyuk’s stomach flip, yet it does. Love is a weird thing.
Jiho knows he is an asshole. It’s been almost a month since Minhyuk’s coffee shop opened, and he still hasn’t seen it. Well, he saw it on Instagram, but it doesn’t count. He’s been terribly busy with the concert, but it’s not a good excuse. It doesn’t take that long to get there from his flat, and it is his boyfriend’s place. Even Kyung was there already (but not Yukwon, but Jiho doesn’t want to think about it).
But he is finally going, Mujabee is still closed, he wants to see it without the squeals of fangirls interrupting the little tour.
He doesn’t feel as good about himself when he finally reaches the place, and it hits him that his boyfriend isn’t the only person working there. He hoped the girl who is Minhyuk’s friend would be working today, but he is out of luck. Instead, there are two guys, two very attractive guys, and one of them is rubbing Minhyuk’s shoulders as the dancer wipes the countertop. Jiho watches them silently for a few seconds, trying to decide if the guy is just being friendly or maybe it’s something more. Seems to be more. It might be jealousy speaking, but Jiho is good at reading people, and the taller guy seems to be into his boyfriend, while the blackhaired one definitely is Minhyuk’s type.
“Hey,” he finally decides to say, stomach already clenching from anxiety.
Minhyuk looks up with a smile, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss Jiho. Neither of them is into PDA, but Jiho suddenly feels the need to land a big one on his boyfriend. He doesn’t do it because, in the end, he is an adult.
Minhyuk introduces him to the other guys, and he doesn’t really listen, forgetting their names the second they disappear into the air. On purpose, because he is good at remembering people’s names, he has to be. But he gives them his best smile. Again, he is a professional.
“What do you want to drink?” the tall guy asks with a smile, and Jiho has to admit that there is something about him, something that could appeal to the dancer.
“Aren’t you closed still? Is it okay for me to order?”
“Of course it is, don’t be silly,” Minhyuk scolds him lightly. “And it’s on me.”
“Uh… I will have the Mujabee latte then.”
He looks around while he waits, but there really isn’t much to see. The décor is pretty simple, gray and white with few plants here and there. It definitely reminds him of Minhyuk, so he already loves the place. He would love it even more, if the employees were female. His boyfriend doesn’t care for girls.
“I thought you would make it for me, hyung,” he pouts cutely at Minhyuk, when it’s the tall guy who hands him the coffee. It looks… messy but impressive*, sprinkled with chocolate and topped with chocolate sauce.
“I can only do the easy stuff, sorry. If you order Americano, then I can make it for you.”
“He is learning, maybe in a year or two he will be able to make it,” the dark, hot barista jokes, and Minhyuk laughs, showing his dimple.
Jiho hates it.
He takes a sip of his latte, surprised that it isn’t as sweet as he expected it to be. It’s fucking delicious.
“Hyung, where is the restroom?” he asks, trying to look innocent.
“Right over there,” Minhyuk points somewhere behind him, but Jiho doesn’t even turn to look.
“Show me, hyung,” he stubbornly says, and the older man squints at him inquiringly, which he ignores.
The dancer, probably because there are other people around, does show him the way, which means that they take three steps before reaching the restroom, with how small the place is. Jiho pushes Minhyuk inside, before the older man can object, and locks the door, his professionalism flying out of the window.
The restroom is big enough for what he planned.
“Let’s christen this place.”
“What?! My friends are right outside!”
Jiho doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it at all, so he presses the shorter man against the wall, rubbing against his crotch, and makes his voice as breathy as possible, when he says, “Fuck me, hyung. I’m ready for you.”
Minhyuk’s hands squeeze his hips, and he knows he won. They make a quick work of unzipping their pants, and soon enough Minhyuk’s fingers are in his ass. It hurts.
It hurts, because Jiho lied about being prepared, he didn’t expect that he would have to resort to seducing his boyfriend, so he is completely dry and uncomfortable. His partner can’t see his face, since he is facing the wall now, but he must have accidentally made a pained noise, because Minhyuk stops his ministrations and whispers into his ear, “You fucking liar. You are not prepared.”
“I… I’m sorry.”
“God, Jiho. If you ever try this again I will murder you,” Minhyuk hisses.
“They are touching you,” he blurts out. “I don’t like it, you said you are mine!”
Minhyuk sighs behind him, and Jiho is convinced that he screwed up majorly, but then his boyfriend drops to his knees and licks into him without any warning.
Jiho doesn’t even try to keep his voice down.
His legs are shaking when they leave the restroom, and Minhyuk is smirking like the cat that got the cream. Jiho is very careful as he sits down, only slightly exaggerating how much he still feels his boyfriend’s cock in him. Minhyuk’s employees look like they are considering quitting the job, and Jiho smiles at them, knowing that his lips are obscenely red and swollen.
Minhyuk isn’t prone to losing his temper, but there is something about Yukwon that makes his blood boil. Especially when the younger man follows Jiho like a lost puppy, basking in his boyfriend’s fame. Jiho asked him before if he wants to join the dance crew for the Japanese leg of the “King of the Zungle” tour, but Minhyuk turned him down, not wanting to be too much. Yukwon didn’t refuse, but that was obvious, he is an attention whore through and through.
It was supposed to be a surprise for the fans, but Minhyuk knew before. Not because Jiho told him – he was quite pleased with the knowledge that his boyfriend doesn’t consider Yukwon’s presence important enough to tell him; but because the younger dancer kept posting rehearsal videos on his private Instagram. Minhyuk doesn’t comment often, but he always watches. Some of the pictures, with Jiho, made him quite angry. Jiho isn’t Yukwon’s to hug or kiss, even innocently. And Jiho isn’t there for Yukwon to exploit him, Minhyuk won’t allow that.
So he flies to Japan without telling anyone, enjoys the show as much as he enjoyed it in Seoul, and then heads backstage. Jiho’s Japanese staff knows him well enough to just let him in without asking too many questions. His boyfriend is already in his changing room, but judging from the muffled voices he can hear, he isn’t alone. Minhyuk opens the door without knocking, and sees a tired looking Jiho sitting on a couch, while Yukwon blabbers about something excitedly. The bright smile slips off his face the second he sees Minhyuk. For a good reason too, if looks could kill, Yukwon would be but a blood smear by now. At least Jiho looks genuinely happy to see him. Surprised, but happy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls at Yukwon.
“Jiho invited me.”
“You invited yourself, you little bitch, moaned and whined about it until he gave in. But I’m telling you, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Hyung...” Jiho tries to interfere but is ignored.
“I don’t have to listen to you,” Yukwon tries to be stubborn, tries to keep his head high, but he is already losing.
Minhyuk takes two steps, gets just a little but closer, like he is about to strike.
“You will, if you know what’s good for you. You are not going to use him like that anymore. Now out! I have a business with Jiho, and you are, once again, not invited. You got it once, you are not getting it again.”
Yukwon blushes and obediently leaves the room without looking at Jiho. Minhyuk locks the door behind him.
“Why are you so mad about him using me? It’s what most people do,” his boyfriend seems at peace with this knowledge, but Minhyuk is there to be angry in his place. “Aren’t you using me too?”
“The only thing I’ll be using is your mouth. On your knees.”
Minhyuk doesn’t care for Jiho’s fame or money, or connections, and the younger man knows that, but sometimes he tries to push him. Minhyuk isn’t having it, not today. He quickly unzips his pants, pulls out his still soft cock and jerks it few times until he is half hard. Jiho willingly parts his plush lips when Minhyuk presses his dick against them, the inside of his mouth as hot as ever, but slightly dry after the concert. It doesn’t matter, he is going to be wet soon enough.
It starts slowly, as if Minhyuk isn’t boiling with anger anymore. Jiho is sucking leisurely, easily adjusting as the cock thickens between his lips. He is great at it, has a lot of experience Minhyuk doesn’t like to think about too much.
Even so, nothing can prepare him for the almost violent push of Minhyuk’s hips, the fat crown of his dick hitting the back of Jiho’s throat. The younger man tries to pull away slightly, but Minhyuk doesn’t let him, wrapping his fingers around the elegant throat and squeezing to keep him in place. The next pushes aren’t any gentler, and Jiho makes a choking noise, spit running down his chin. He is grasping at Minhyuk’s legs now, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs, but the older man ignores it. He is focused on making sure Jiho takes his whole dick all the way down to the balls. Jiho is whining cutely, red lips stretched to their limit by the fat cock, trying to keep up with Minhyuk’s pace, but failing.
He can feel the second Jiho gives up, his throat relaxing under his hand, tongue pressing against the vein of his cock and staying there, allowing Minhyuk to fuck his face. Few tears escape his eyes, and Minhyuk wipes them with his other hand, lovingly petting Jiho’s soft cheeks like he isn’t choking him at the same time.
“You turn him down the next time he asks,” the older man growls, squeezing Jiho’s throat harder to feel him struggle. “And if you can’t do that, you come to me. You are my slut. Mine!”
He comes with a shout, pushing as far as he can to feed Jiho all of his cum. He continues rocking his hips, Jiho’s lips milking him until he is completely spent.
He does a quick job of pulling Jiho’s pants down, only to realize that his boyfriend already found release in his underwear, like a schoolboy.
“I liked it when you choked me,” the younger man quietly admits, too sore to speak any louder. He tries to stand up, probably thinking they’re done.
Minhyuk smirks, bends him over a couch and fingers him until Jiho cries.
“I’m going to enlist soon,” Minhyuk announces, eyes glued to the still sweaty Jiho. He just finished a concert, but instead of staying at the after party with his crew, he came back home because Minhyuk trained him well.
“Yeah? I know? It’s not like you have a choice.”
“Trying to be a smartass, aren’t you?” Jiho gives him a cocky smile followed by a kiss.
Minhyuk gets distracted when the younger man takes off his shirt, smooth skin and slight muscle definition enough to make his cock interested.
“I’ll be gone for almost two years. What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean? Do you think that… I’m not going to cheat on you!” Jiho’s outrage is pretty cute, Minhyuk wonders if the rapper even knows that he is flexing his minuscule muscles, ready to defend his good name. Men are ridiculous, they hit the gym twice and suddenly think they are hot shit. Not him, of course, because Minhyuk was always hot and in shape.
“Come on, Ji. People are always after you. I will worry. I need to mark you up, let people know you’re mine.”
“I’m not getting your name tattooed on me.”
“As if that would make a difference, you already are a walking scribble board. But that’s not what I have in mind.”
Jiho makes an offended noise, but Minhyuk ignores it, pulling him closer by the arm. Instead of kissing Jiho’s stupidly plush lips, he aims for the neck and bites, eliciting a loud shriek from his boyfriend.
“Are you out of your mind?! Why are you biting me!”
“Shush,” Minhyuk mutters, looking at the teeth marks he’s left. They are going to leave a beautiful bruise. Dark, purple and his. “I’m going to fuck you hard and everyone will know you belong to me.”
Minhyuk used to be quite chill when it came to relationships, but there is something about Jiho that makes him crazy. Two years is a long time, especially if your significant other is someone like Zico, but there isn’t much he can do. It’s aggravating, Minhyuk is used to being in control, and he doesn’t like it when it slips away. Maybe he is being dramatic, hundreds of Korea men go through the exact same thing every year and manage just fine. Then again, they don’t have Jiho to worry about.
The rapper stares at him patiently while Minhyuk goes through a mini-mental breakdown, until the older man snaps out of it and pulls him towards the bed. Then he proceeds to deliver on his promise, fucking into Jiho roughly and whispering sweet nothings in his ear that aren’t meant for anyone else.
“I look like a rabid dog mauled me,” Jiho complains, looking in the mirror at the bruises Minhyuk left behind. The side of his neck is purple and blue, as are his thighs. “I have appearances to make, makeup noonas will kill me.”
“Then don’t wear revealing clothes. Recently, you’ve been strutting around half naked, you tart.”
“I didn’t know tank tops were considered scandalous these days,” Jiho snorts. “I can’t exactly wear turtlenecks until it fades away, can I?”
“It won’t,” Minhyuk immediately says before correcting himself, “You’ll come for a visit when it does, and I will mark you again.”
Jiho gapes at him, clearly not expecting this level of possessiveness from his boyfriend. He probably should, since Minhyuk’s cum is still on his ass, but maybe he didn’t put two and two together yet and realized the dancer always wants to be as deep inside him as possible.
“It’s unfair though. Why do you get to mark me, and I don’t?”
“Do you want to?”
Minhyuk obediently comes closer and watches his boyfriend kneel in front of him with certain reverence, before his soft lips meet Minhyuk’s thick thighs. It’s strangely erotic, even the pain, and he takes a shuddering breath, feeling his cock fatten again. He lets Jiho have his fun for a while before taking over, pushing the younger man against the washing machine to eat him out. Later, he needs to carry his boyfriend to the bedroom, because Jiho’s legs are too weak to hold him up, and Minhyuk is damn proud of himself for that. He is the only one who can turn Jiho into a blubbering, needy mess. This time round, Jiho is soft and pliant under him, moaning quietly every time Minhyuk presses into him.
“You actually love me,” Jiho murmurs after they’re done, Minhyuk still lying between his thighs.
“You’re only realizing it now?”
“No… not really… It’s just weird that someone like you would love someone like me.”
“I have no idea what’s that supposed to mean,” Minhyuk grumbles against Jiho’s collarbone, too tired to analyze his boyfriend.
“It’s… Never mind. I will wait for you.”