Work Text:
Minho catches on too late. By the time Jisung’s finished a second bottle of soju there’s a flush sitting high on his cheeks and a haze in his eyes as he tries and fails to focus on his work, huffing frustratedly at himself. The laptop on his stomach casts a bright light over his face that makes his pupils look blown, and a leg dangles haphazardly off the couch in a way that suggests he’s probably going to pass out soon. Minho sighs.
“Jisung-ah.” No response. “Hey, Han Jisung. Look at me.”
After a long moment Jisung’s gaze slides over to where Minho’s been sitting on their smaller couch, using his phone for the past several hours because Jisung made plans to work throughout the night and that meant Minho was determined to keep him company. “Mm?”
“You’re drinking like crazy,” Minho states. “I thought you were supposed to be working?”
“I am working,” he slurs, petulant. He glares at Minho and then at his laptop screen, and Minho thinks, Jesus Christ, this fucking lightweight. “Just kinda stressed about it.”
“Then stop working and go to bed. It’s—what, midnight?”
“I need these lyrics to be done soon,” he whines. “I’m meeting up with the hyungs in a couple days.”
“The key words here being a couple days,” Minho reminds him. Jisung whines again and Minho pinches the bridge of his nose. This is probably his fault, he’s realizing. Jisung was the one who ordered dinner but Minho was so focused on mindlessly scrolling he forgot to keep up with Jisung’s stress drinking. “Listen, I think you should put your laptop away for now. All the bright light isn’t good for you either, honey.”
Jisung sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and squints at him. “You’ve been on your phone this entire time, hyung,” he points out, like that means anything. His words come out a little slurred.
Minho snorts. “Yeah, trying to keep you company. I’d be asleep already otherwise. I have a class to teach at eight, remember?”
Jisung groans. “Now you’re making me feel bad.”
“If that gets you into bed faster, good.”
Jisung laughs, half-frustrated, half-amused. He shuts his laptop and manages with wobbly arms to set it on their coffee table, and Minho is about to cheer when Jisung turns onto his side, looking at him through his messy dark hair. Then he opens his stupid cute mouth and says, another whine laced in his words, “But baby, ‘m stressed and horny. I can’t sleep like this.”
Minho rolls his eyes and sits up. He tries and fails to feel any sort of way about both the comment and the pet name. “Didn’t we have sex just this morning?”
“That was hours ago,” Jisung points out. “Basically... like, an entire day already. C’mere, hyung.”
“You’re drunk, Jisung,” Minho deadpans even as he stands and makes his way over to Jisung with the full intention of picking him up and bringing him to the bathroom to help him get ready for bed.
“Since when has that mattered?” Jisung scoffs. When Minho comes to a stop in front of him he realizes he’s made a grave mistake because the angle they’ve got going on is all too familiar, and Jisung just loves to stare up at him with eyes that make him fold every single time.
“It’s always mattered,” Minho says, channeling as much patience as possible.
“We’ve had sex while drunk!”
“You brat,” Minho sighs. He crouches so they’re eye level and also so his body doesn’t start instinctively reacting to Jisung’s glazed-over eyes and his red, open mouth. Fuck. “We’ve had drunk sex while both of us were drunk. That’s different.”
“That’s stupid,” he says petulantly. “I want it. Right now, not when ‘m less drunk or whatever.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose again. “Jisung.”
“Minho hyung. Baby. Honey.” Jisung reaches out with feeble fingers wrapped around Minho’s wrist and pulls his hand away from his face, bringing it towards his own. For a moment Minho thinks he’s about to suck his fingers into his mouth—and god, the thought of that makes him a little lightheaded, which reflects so fucking poorly on Minho’s discipline right now—but instead Jisung kisses the back of his hand and looks at him with a gaze so full of love Minho finds himself melting. “I want this so bad. I’ve been wet and thinking about it for hours.”
Said so plainly, so bluntly. Minho’s face instantly lights on fire. “Wh—you can’t just—”
“I can,” Jisung whines. So whiny. So fucking whiny. “Because you’re my boyfriend and I want you. At least… can you just—fuck, hyuuuung, please come up here.”
He starts pawing at Minho’s shoulders, then feels down his biceps and squeezes instinctively just to feel him up a little, and unwilling arousal throbs through him when he starts trying to tug him up. “Baby, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.”
“That’s okay,” Jisung whimpers, very much sounding like this isn’t okay with him at all. “You don’t have to fuck me. Just—we can jus’ grind on each other for a little bit. I’ll cum really fast and then you can take me to bed, I swear.”
Minho has to squeeze his eyes shut for a second at the warmth that bursts through him. Holy shit, he sounds desperate, distinct in a way he normally doesn’t sound. Minho usually has to shove him deep into his headspace to get any sort of reaction like this. But Jisung when he’s drunk is always somehow more honest than he already is and it shows, down to the needy expression on his face when he shifts himself up and sits so that, as Minho is getting up to stand again, he’s resting his head on the cushions, neck bent at an almost awkward angle, back flat on the couch and legs spread.
He’s wearing sweatpants and God, fuck, he goes commando all the time in their apartment, sometimes Minho forgets until they’re about to fuck. There’s a patch of wetness between his legs, and Minho finds his gaze fixed to that spot for a moment too long. Jisung must notice because he moans like he does when Minho’s already inside him.
“D’you want it, baby?” He asks. He sounds so earnest, a little pitiful. “You can have it. I swear. Doesn’t matter if ‘m drunk, I want you to have it.”
This is escalating so fucking fast. His knees feel wobbly, and when he glances at Jisung’s red, pretty face he can feel his cock twitch in his shorts, and Jesus Christ, his discipline is so shit, isn’t it. “You want me to have what, Jisung,” he says. He tries to keep his voice steady but he can hear the waver in his words.
Jisung blushes even brighter. “Hyung, you can have my pussy. However you want. Please.”
The words almost make Minho moan. The arousal is growing into a steady hum throughout him, and he can’t even hide it, he knows that even through Jisung’s hazy vision he can see just how bad he’s affecting him. “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. ‘M yours all the time, right? If you want me now you can take me now. Or do—jus’...” his words trail off for a moment. Over the thunderous noise of blood rushing through Minho’s ears at his words, he continues, “just do anything to me, baby. I wanna cum. I want you to make me cum. Please.”
Minho groans. Before he can even really process it he finds himself leaning in, crowding Jisung further into the couch. Like this Jisung has to strain to look up at him, and it almost gives the illusion of his eyes rolling back, and the position they’re at is so fucking awkward but it’s also close enough to a position they’ve taken before when they’ve fucked and the mental image that knowledge casts in Minho’s mind makes him want to die.
“Jisung-ah,” he says, a little shaky. “You’re a slut.”
“Yeah,” he agrees breathlessly, nodding. He reaches out with a hand to palm over his bicep again and lets out a strangled groan when he squeezes muscle. “Does that… does that mean you’ll fuck me?”
Minho pulls away. Jisung makes a frustrated sound at the loss of contact and opens his mouth, probably to complain, but Minho beats him to it. “Stand up, honey.”
It takes Jisung a long moment to drop his legs and move himself so that he can sit on the edge of the couch and stand slowly. He wobbles when he makes it all the way up and settles a hand on Minho’s shoulder to steady himself. The sight of him so clearly drunk and altered sends a pulse of guilt through him that he expects to quell his arousal, but then Jisung gives him a heady look and Minho’s skin feels hot. “Give me a kiss?” He asks.
Minho stifles a noise and wastes no time dragging him in, slinging an arm over his waist. Jisung’s mouth is hot and wet and so soft, dropping open almost as soon as their lips meet, though he doesn’t try to lick into Minho’s mouth. He can be so helplessly obedient when he wants it, Minho’s realized. He offers himself up on a platter for Minho to take whatever he wants. If Minho wanted to eat him whole Jisung would probably let him. When he does lick into his mouth, the taste of strawberry soju sharp on his tongue, Jisung makes a pathetic whimpering noise that makes Minho’s dick kick in his shorts again.
Jisung is already a messy kisser at baseline and when he’s drunk it’s even worse, spit threatening to slide out of his mouth and dripping onto Minho’s tongue when he hungrily licks it up before it can spill down his chin. Minho pulls away and Jisung chases him, moaning like he’s in pain every second they spend apart, and the gravity with which he so obviously wants him gets him throbbing, already so close to being hard it would be embarrassing in any other scenario.
He has to reach a hand up to tangle his fingers in Jisung’s hair, and while he’s there he might as well dig his fingers in and tug back a little. Jisung’s reaction is beautiful—a gasping inhale, cut off by his own whimper. In the low light of their living room the sweat already perspiring along the column of his throat practically shimmers, or maybe that’s just how bad Minho wants to sink his teeth into him. “Are you gonna be embarrassed about this when you wake up hungover tomorrow, Jisung-ah?” He asks. “Are you even gonna remember begging your boyfriend to fuck your cunt while you’re drunk and can’t consent?”
The words are disgusting. They curl in his mouth. Guilt and arousal are no longer two separate things to his body. They swim together, and he feels high off his mind. Jisung makes another choked noise, speechless. Minho leans in to brush his lips along his jaw. “Answer me, honey.”
“Baby,” Jisung slurs. “Jus’ need it so bad.”
“You’re so dumb,” Minho says, hopelessly fond. The words make Jisung moan. “Let’s go to our room, yeah?”
And then he takes a step back, fingers still tangled in Jisung’s hair, and it pulls him along, forces him to stumble forward to him. Jisung’s breath hitches as he tries to catch his footing while Minho takes another step, smiling warmly at the sight of him so messy. “Hyung, that’s so mean,” he gasps. And yet he makes no move to stop Minho. He can’t blame that on the alcohol—if Jisung’s in any sort of submissive mood Minho could tell him to crawl and he would do it. The thought of making him do that now when he’s so drunk is disgustingly hot.
In the end, he shows him some pity. He drops his hand to Jisung’s own and interlaces his fingers so he can tug him along to their room.
“‘M kinda dizzy,” Jisung mumbles once they make it down the hall. Minho shuts their door and smoothes a hand down his back. “Mm, hyung, you’re warm.”
“You're so out of it, Jisung-ah,” Minho sighs. “I should’ve noticed it earlier.”
“‘S okay. You’re gonna take care of me, right?”
Fuck, he’s so fond. “Of course, baby. Even though I technically shouldn’t right now.”
“That’s hot,” Jisung says as he starts tugging him to bed. “That you shouldn’t. But you’re gonna, cause you love me so much. And you want me to cum a thousand times, right?”
Minho rolls his eyes but can’t stifle a smile as he halts Jisung to help him take his sweater off. The sight of his broad shoulders, the nice arms he’s been working on for months with Changbin, his soft tummy, small waist—God, fuck, Minho was never going to say no to having him, drunk or not. Maybe that makes him a shitty boyfriend. Sue him.
Jisung squirms under his heavy gaze and tugs weakly at his own shirt. Minho pulls it over his head and Jisung practically drools at the sight of him, which makes him laugh. “You’re so cute, honey,” he says. “Get on the bed, now, hurry up.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, obeying instantly. As he climbs onto the bed Minho finishes stripping his clothes off and grabs the lube from their nightstand. Jisung always bitches about how they don’t need it, he gets wet enough, but Minho insists if not to feel how incredibly messy it gets when he fucks him.
When he turns back to Jisung he’s propped his head up on their pillows and is staring at him, sweatpants already discarded somewhere. The dazed expression on his face is adorable. The way he’s squirming, rubbing his thighs together, isn’t.
“When it comes to taking dick you become so obedient,” Minho can’t help but coo as he climbs onto the bed with him. Jisung makes another one of those cute, choked-off noises, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Or maybe you’re just too drunk. Are you still dizzy, baby?”
“Yeah,” Jisung whines. “Little bit. Can you kiss me again?” Minho gives him a lazy, expectant smile. Jisung catches on and adds, “Please, hyung.”
Minho indulges him, pressing their mouths together. He sucks on the tip of Jisung tongue and Jisung moans. His hands come up to his arms again, except this time Minho gently knocks them away.
“You wanted to get fucked like a slut, you’ll get treated like one,” Minho murmurs against his lips. Jisung’s fingers twist into the sheets. When he pulls away Jisung gives him a pained expression filled with want.
“Hyung,” he mumbles.
Minho doesn’t give him a response, instead nosing down to his throat. He can feel his pulse against his mouth, and he sucks a mark right over it. Jisung keens as he pulls back to settle between his legs and push them apart.
It’s his first good look at Jisung’s cunt, and the sight makes his mouth water. “Baby,” he laughs in disbelief. “You’re so wet.”
“I told you,” Jisung whines. He brings a hand to cover his face even as he lets Minho push his legs up and further apart. Fuck, it’s all over his inner thighs, glistening like he’s been dripping for the entire day. His toes curl and Minho drags a hand up one of his legs to press his thumb into the sole of his foot. Jisung moans, arching like Minho’s playing with his cute little cock. He watches his cunt clench and has to close his eyes for a moment. “Hyung, ah, please. Want you.”
He can’t tell what’s possessing him right now. Jisung’s peeking at him between his fingers, legs open so Minho can look and then take as much as he wants, potentially too drunk—fuck—too drunk to make a single real decision. Minho should be a good boyfriend, make him cum exactly how he needs and then put him to bed. And yet.
“What’s made you so wet, though, baby?” He asks, fake-gentle. He trails his hands down Jisung’s inner thighs and he practically feels him tense up under his touch. “Do you get drunk and start dripping at the idea of getting fucked? You’re so wet, so messy right now, baby, shouldn’t you be embarrassed?”
Jisung moans. “Can’t even think,” he says. His words practically tumble into each other. “Dunno. Mm… I just look at you, hyung, baby, you’re so beautiful. And so is your dick, fuck.”
Minho lets out a delighted laugh at that. “Stupid slut. You’re so cute.”
Jisung lets out a noise that sounds like nngh. “‘M a slut.”
“Yes you are,” Minho agrees as he trails a finger right over his cunt. Jisung jerks and Minho clamps a hand over his hip, a little unnecessary for how sweet and obedient he’s being right now, but Jisung seems to like it because he moans and then spreads his legs even wider. “A drunk little slut who’s gonna get fingered until he’s begging to cum, right?”
He slips a finger inside and smiles when Jisung almost instantly clamps down around him with a shaky gasp. His hand flies back off his face to wrap around both of his knees, pulling his legs nearly to his chest for easier access. Jisung’s practically as wet as when he’s already cum once, and all Minho can think is he’s drunk, he’s so out of it, he wants it so bad.
He pushes his finger in to the knuckle and curls it upwards on the way out, and Jisung tips his head back and moans, rocking his hips up into him. “Oh m-my God, hyung, please, fuck, that feels good, another,” he manages, weak and thready. “That feels soooo good, fuck.”
He’s so much more sensitive like this. He slips another finger in to stretch him open and Jisung whines. He’s practically leaking out around his fingers. “You needed this, didn’t you,” he says, awed. “Oh, you’re barely even gonna remember this, honey, fuck.”
Jisung whines, “Feels so good, hyung,” like it’s the only words in his head.
Minho hears more than feels himself practically panting as he speeds up, scissors his fingers wide open just to force him to feel the stretch. He can’t stop staring at his little cock, hard and peeking out of its hood, twitching every time Minho presses his fingers right into his sweet spot. He could reach out with his other hand and jerk him off between two pinched fingers, just a little too mean to be purely pleasurable—he’s done it before. Jisung had cum with broken pleas for him to slow down, and then he’d squirted so prettily for him.
He leaves his cock alone for now though, too hellbent on being an asshole. Jisung gets off just fine with his fingers, not that he plans on letting him cum so soon.
“‘M getting close,” he slurs out. Right on cue.
Minho coos at him. “Cutie. Are you gonna ask nicely for it?”
“Yeah,” Jisung sobs, looking up at him with hazy eyes. “I want it, baby. Please, I—you’re so good to me, wanna cum for you, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, I can feel it. Please, please, I—ahhh, hyung,” he whimpers when Minho slips his fingers out. His hips rock up into thin air. He’s so wet it’s collecting into a little puddle under his ass. His whole cunt glistens with it. “‘M sorry, fuck.”
“What are you apologizing for, baby?” Minho asks. He moves his two fingers, slick with his wetness, to his clit, just briefly, and watches Jisung's brain fizzle out in real time as he tries to adjust to the sensation and the immediate loss of it at the same time.
“Want you,” he mumbles. “Oh, so much. Wanna cum on your fingers, your cock, your tongue, anything. Everything. Baby. You make me feel so s-selfish, fuck, you’re so good to me.”
Minho’s cock throbs. He can’t help it, jerks himself off with the fingers that he’d just shoved inside Jisung with a strangled groan before he grabs the lube. He doesn’t give it nearly enough time to warm up between his fingers and hisses when he strokes himself again before he shuffles closer to Jisung, who’s still holding his legs open for Minho to look at how messy his cunt is, all for him.
He has half a mind to grab an extra pillow and shove it under his hips before he knocks Jisung’s hands away from behind his knees and replaces one with his own. With his other hand he holds the base of his cock and guides it to Jisung’s hole, trying so fucking hard to breathe steadily and ultimately failing when the tip of his cock just barely nudges into him and they both moan in tandem.
“Mm, baby,” Jisung moans, blinking up at him. “No condom?”
Minho cock probably leaks right into him, he’s so hard. “Do you want one, honey?” They don’t normally. Jisung’s never had to worry about a potential pregnancy scare. He’s dirty talking him right now, and it’s insane to hear when his words are slurred and Minho isn’t drunk himself, can take the time to commit every single little thing about his boyfriend to memory.
Jisung shakes his head. He’s back to fisting his hands weakly into the sheets. “No, please don’t. I said you can have me however… however you want, right?”
Whatever was left of his patience absolutely snaps in that moment, and Minho pushes himself inside, groans and squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t immediately cum. Jisung’s cunt practically clamps down into a vice grip around him that leaves him breathless, makes him feel like he’s being fucking milked, and there’s a short pause before Jisung whimpers and tries to relax. “Good, like that,” Minho breathes. “Oh my god, baby. You’re so wet. Fuck. How are you this wet?”
Jisung just makes a desperate sound, speechless.
By the time he’s all the way in him they’re both gasping for breath. Jisung has his eyes shut, but he dazedly blinks them open again to stare at Minho, who looks right back at him. “Love this dick,” Jisung slurs. He rocks his hips up into the base of his cock, clenches and unclenches, drips out around him. Minho grits his teeth against the animal instinct to pin him down and use him. As if Jisung can tell exactly what he’s thinking he mumbles, “‘M ready, hyung, please.”
“Jisung,” Minho moans. Gone is any notion at all of making sure Jisung’s even slightly sober enough to say yes. He pins both of Jisung’s legs back for him and presses in to sloppily kiss the corner of his mouth. And then he starts to fuck him.
He knows he’s doing well because Jisung is completely out of it within the first few thrusts, clenched up so tight around his cock it’s almost concerning. His eyes roll back. Drool leaks out of his mouth and spills onto his cheek. He’s such a beautiful sight.
“Does it feel good, baby?” Minho gasps as he fucks into him. “Is this what you wanted?”
Jisung barely manages to stutter out a weak, “Y-yeah, holy—holy shit, fuck.”
Minho groans at the affirmation. He can practically feel his cock jerking inside of him, and he presses their foreheads together, bending Jisung to an angle that should be painful but isn’t because of course, of course, he has the most flexible boyfriend in the world. So sexy and strong and malleable and his. Drunk off his mind and still begging for him, trying to work so fucking hard on lyrics but too easily distracted by alcohol and a potent desire for Minho that he reciprocates tenfold.
With a grunt, he lets go of one of Jisung’s legs and drags a heavy hand over to his wrist, bringing his hand back behind his knee. Jisung’s slow, hazy brain takes a second to understand what he’s asking for, but when it clicks he holds himself open for Minho again, does the same for the other leg, and once Minho has both hands free he takes one and delicately wraps it around his throat.
Jisung’s eyes fly open. For a moment he seems the most alert he’s been for the entire night, but that almost instantly slips away again. Instead his mouth drops open as he groans. Minho doesn’t squeeze his fingers yet, just holds his hand there as he fucks him. “You want it?” he asks sweetly.
“Yeah,” Jisung gasps. “Fuck. Please.”
“Such a slut,” Minho smiles.
He slows down a little so he can focus on not hurting him accidentally as he starts to choke him. Jisung’s deep gasps for air turn into hitched, cut-off breaths as he settles into the sensation of having his breath stolen from him. He’d just managed to relax himself into rhythmic little clenches around Minho’s cock but now he tightens up again, which turns every drag out of his cunt into a wave of pleasure so strong it throws him closer to the edge, which tightens his fingers, which clearly pushes Jisung closer to his peak, too.
When Minho lets go to give him a chance to breathe Jisung inhales like he’s been drowning this entire time, so deep it must make his head spin even more than it already is. “Hyung,” he whines. “I’m so close, ‘m so close, fuck.”
“I don’t even have to touch your little cock?” Minho laughs.
“No,” Jisung whimpers. “Love you inside me. Need it all the time.”
“You like when I touch your cock though, too,” Minho teases.
“Like everything you do to me,” Jisung says. It’s so earnest, so loving, so trusting—Minho quickly realizes he needs to make Jisung cum within the next minute or he’s going to cum first, and that simply won’t do.
When he chokes him again he picks up his brutal pace from earlier, and Jisung doesn’t seem to know what to do with everything going on. His legs kick in the air and his toes curl cutely and he just takes it. Minho stares down at him and commits every micro-expression of his to memory, and Jisung’s staring back up at him but at this point Minho can barely tell if he’s really seeing him or just looking through him as he loses his breath and gets fucked into the bed.
Right as Jisung starts to cum he clamps down so hard that it nearly forces his cock out. Minho thinks for a second that he’s going to squirt, and then he does, but it’s a weak dribble as he pulses around him and gasps for air he can’t take in and cums the hardest he maybe ever has on Minho’s cock.
“Baby,” Minho groans. He fucks back into him and lets go of his throat. Jisung makes a desperate, strangled sound and tenses up as Minho cums deep inside him. He leans down to press their foreheads together and Jisung just pants right into his face. It’s so cute. It’s so fucking cute.
It takes a minute for him to relax, melting into the sheets when he does. “There we go, honey,” he whispers as he slowly pulls out so Jisung can rest his legs. His boyfriend whimpers at the loss of contact but Minho is quick to curl up next to him, pressing a kiss to his soft cheek. “You did so well. It was good?”
“So good,” Jisung whispers. “Hyung, I love you.”
“I love you too,” Minho says. “I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”
“Noooo,” Jisung whines, and yeah, there’s the clingy drunk Minho knows. He seems like he’s sobered up a little but he’s clearly still out of it as he turns to Minho and tucks his face into his neck. “Love you. Stay.”
Minho sighs through a fond smile. “Silly. You’re gonna wake up with a hangover and dried cum everywhere.”
“Clean up later,” Jisung mumbles. “Make me breakfast. Shower together too.”
Minho loves this idiot so much his heart might explode. “Okay, baby. If you’re a brat about it when I wake you up at six so I can get to work on time I’m burning your eggs on purpose.”
“You would never.”
Minho sighs, defeated. “Yeah, you're right.”