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The bell above the door jingles as Jisung steps into the tattoo studio, the familiar smell of disinfectant and ink filling the shop. The neon light in the front window flickers in shades of pink and blue, and without the usual buzz of tattoo machines it's almost completely quiet inside.
Anticipation coils in Jisung’s stomach, a mixture of nerves and excitement thrumming through his body. He’s been here plenty of times before, spent hours lingering around while his boyfriend worked, chatting to Felix or making music each time Minho disappeared into the back room to pierce his clients. Waiting for him to finish so he could have Minho all to himself.
Nights like this are different.
As expected, he finds Felix slouched over the front desk, strands of blond hair falling into his eyes as he scrolls absentmindedly through his phone, cheek resting in his palm. The sound of the bell appears to be the only thing that stops him from dozing off.
“Sorry, we’re closed for-oh, Hannie!” He immediately perks up at the sight of Jisung, a grin lighting up his features.
“Hey, Lix.” Jisung smiles back, sauntering over to the peeling leather couch and planting himself on the arm. “Long day?”
“Obviously, since you didn’t come and hang out with me at all today.” Felix pouts brattily, tossing his phone onto the counter. “Are you here to see me now? Pick Minho up from work like a cute little house husband? Or-” his eyes gleam mischievously, “are you being his favourite pincushion again?”
Heat creeps up the back of Jisung’s neck as he rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“If you’re here, it means it’s one of those.” Felix snickers. “I’m betting on option three.”
Jisung doesn’t dignify that with a response, although he’s sure the flush on his cheeks is answer enough.
It had started as a joke, something teasing, as many things with Minho do. He remembers them tangled up in the sheets one night, his chest still heaving, skin tingling from the way Minho touched him. Fucked him like he wanted to devour him whole. He remembers Minho’s fingers tracing shapes over his tattoos as he stared at two balls of silver sitting under his boyfriend’s bottom lip, the bar through his eyebrow, the ring in his nose. Remembers him playing with the stud in Jisung’s lobe, murmuring something low about how well more piercings would suit him.
Jisung had whined something back, lazy and half-drunk on Minho’s touch, about how Minho was the one that made them look hot.
Then Minho had said it.
“You’d let me pick one for you, wouldn’t you? Just let me pierce whatever I wanted.”
The words made something hot spark deep in Jisung’s gut. He’d shivered. He hadn’t said no.
He wonders if Minho would have figured it out even without that conversation. He’d watched Jisung get both of his tattoos, saw the way he squirmed under the needle, the way he hissed but never told Hyunjin to stop. Maybe Minho had known, even before Jisung did, that pain was something he responded to.
The first time was almost innocent. A simple helix piercing, something easy, something to test the waters of what this could become. Minho was professional when he sat Jisung down in his chair and marked his ear, pierced through the cartilage with steady hands and a calm voice. Even so, Jisung caught the way his fingers lingered, the way his breath caught when Jisung shivered under his touch. He’d left with his heart pounding and a heat in his stomach that he hadn’t fully understood.
The second time was deliberate. A bar through his eyebrow. Minho had said something about how expressive he was, how hot it would look when his brows pinched together. He’d tilted Jisung’s head with a hand on his jaw, held him still, voice thick with something he wanted to drown in. By the time the needle pressed through, Jisung was shaking, breathless, and rock hard in his jeans. It didn’t take long before Minho was making him come with a gloved hand around his cock.
The third time sealed it for what it was. A vertical labret, right through his bottom lip. That time, Minho told him how pretty he was when he pouted, how lovely it would be if his lips looked even fuller. He made Jisung grip the sides of the chair while he tilted his chin up, told him to keep his hips still in a voice that sent shivers down his spine. He’d gasped when the needle went through, spit welling in his mouth, Minho’s dark eyes fixed on him the entire time. They’d gone home together after that, back to Minho’s apartment, and Jisung had barely made it through the front door before he was begging to be fucked.
And now, here they are.
Minho had warned him that this time would be more intense, that he could tap out any time he wanted to. He hadn’t explained further, just left Jisung buzzing with nerves, faint arousal curling in his gut.
“Earth to Han Jisung.” Felix waves obnoxiously, dragging him back to the present. “Can you stop thinking about your stupid hot boyfriend putting new holes in you for like five minutes?”
Jisung gives him a disgusted look. “Don’t phrase it like that!”
Before Felix can find it in him to respond with something even more foul, the door to the piercing room swings open. Minho steps out first, peeling a pair of black latex gloves off of his hands. Chan follows close behind, and Jisung doesn’t miss the way Felix straightens up so fast at the sight of him that he swears he hears his spine crack.
“Hey hyung.” Jisung says, raising an eyebrow. “You got a piercing?”
“Oh, yeah, Bin finally convinced me to get my nose pierced.” Chan replies as he turns his head to show off the fresh stud, still a little red around the edges.
Minho crosses his arms with a dramatic sigh. “Next time, maybe show up a little earlier so I don’t have to sacrifice any of my precious free time for you.”
Chan just laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, though. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
“Mhm, Yongbok will let you know how much you owe me.” Minho waves him off, discarding his gloves in the nearby bin.
Felix, meanwhile, continues to visibly malfunction, pupils blown wide as he stares at the piercing. Chan hesitates for a moment when he turns his attention to him, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth as he gives Felix a sheepish smile.
“Hey, Lix.”
Felix visibly melts. “Hi,” he breathes, hands twitching like he wants to fix his hair but doesn’t want to make it obvious.
Minho scoffs. “Jesus christ.”
Jisung barely manages to stifle a laugh behind his hand.
Chan just blinks, glancing between them. “What?”
“Nothing.” Minho drawls. “Nothing at all. Just pay and go before Yongbokkie combusts.”
Felix shoots him a glare, but quickly smooths out his expression when Chan pulls out his wallet. He taps at the tablet on the counter when Felix offers it to him, adding a decent tip on top of the cost of the piercing.
“Oh, um, you don’t have to tip.” Felix says. “Minho’s already got you on the friends and family discount.”
Chan just smiles, sliding his card over. “It’s not for Minho.”
Felix’s ears are bright red as he finishes the transaction, offering a stuttered ‘ thank you’ before he puts the payment through.
Jisung bumps against Minho’s shoulder. “This is painful.” He whispers.
Minho hums in agreement, tongue toying with the piercing under his lip. They both watch as Chan takes his card and receipt from Felix’s hand, their fingers brushing for just a fraction of a second. It’s enough to make Felix’s breath stutter. If Chan notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“Well,” Chan says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket, “thanks again. I’ll see you around?”
Felix nods, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, before-because he clearly can’t help himself-he blurts out, “It looks good on you.”
Chan pauses for a moment, a light flush across his cheeks. “Yeah?”
Felix nods again, more firmly this time. “Yeah.”
Jisung side-eyes Minho when it begins to feel like they’re interrupting something. “Are we just gonna stand here?”
Minho shrugs. “It’s almost like watching a nature documentary.”
In that moment it appears that Felix remembers they have an audience, and he clears his throat, immediately breaking eye contact. “Right, well, uh-thanks for coming, have a good night, get out.”
Chan just laughs, offering them all a casual wave as he heads for the exit. “See you guys later!”
The second the door closes behind him, Felix lets out a long groan, dropping his head onto the counter. Minho pats him on the shoulder in mock sympathy. “You’ll get him next time.”
“I might die first.” Felix whines, muffled into the desk.
Before Jisung can try to comfort him, Hyunjin emerges from the tattoo room, running a hand through his buzzed hair. He’s dyed it hot pink since Jisung last saw him.
“God, you guys are all disgusting.” He says, his bridge piercing glinting in the light when he scrunches his nose. “Felix is still pining over Chan, Jisung’s here to get off on being stabbed again, and Minho is-well, Minho.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s an insult.”
“It is.”
“Like you can talk.” Felix rolls his eyes, finally lifting his head off the counter. “The way you act when you tattoo Changbin-hyung is embarrassing.”
Hyunjin’s expression immediately turns to a scowl, but the way his bottom lip juts out makes it look more like a pout. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on.” Felix snickers, his eyes glinting devilishly. “You practically vibrate with excitement every time you get to tattoo him. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stare at him when he starts whining about the pain!”
Minho smirks. “It’s cute. Like a cat watching a bird struggle.”
Jisung gasps. “Oh my god, you like it.”
“I do not-”
“Yes, you do.” Minho sing songs as he leans against the counter, clearly enjoying himself. “I bet it gets you all hot, watching him squirm. It’s okay, Hyunjinnie, I get it.”
Hyunjin lets out a noise of pure frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll say it again, you guys are disgusting. I’m going home!”
Minho laughs in delight as Hyunjin pulls on his jacket and heads out of the shop, but his eyes sharpen when he shifts his attention back to Jisung.
“That was fun.” He says, fingertips dragging up the center of Jisung’s back. “You ready for me, baby?”
Jisung’s breath catches in his throat, the air between them shifting instantly. His skin suddenly feels too hot under his hoodie, heart kicking in his chest. He takes a deep breath.
“I’m ready.”
He hears Felix wolf whistle as they head into the piercing room. “Have fun, freak!”
Jisung flips him off without looking back.
The blinds are already drawn in the piercing room, and Minho locks the door behind them with a quiet click . The noise creates a thrum of arousal in Jisung’s gut, like a dog conditioned to drool at the sound of a bell. His body knows what’s coming before his mind catches up, trained by the promise of pain laced with pleasure when Minho gets his hands on him.
He sits down on the padded chair, leaning back against the headrest. His fingers drum against his thigh as he watches Minho move around the room, preparing the equipment with his usual unhurried efficiency.
Then he snaps on a fresh pair of gloves, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Jisung swallows.
“Nervous?”
He forces himself to relax against the chair. “No.”
The corner of Minho’s lip twitches. “Liar.”
He rolls his stool closer, legs spread when he sits down. There’s a minute tilt of his head as he studies Jisung’s expression, notching two fingers under his chin.
“Are you sure about this?” Minho asks, all genuine care and affection.
Jisung gazes back at him. There’s no hesitation in his voice. “I want this.”
Minho hums, then gently grasps Jisung’s jaw, turning his head from side to side. His gaze is heavy as it rakes over Jisung’s body, eyes flitting between each space that he could press a needle through.
“Hm…” He says, fingertips moving down to find Jisung’s waist, thumbs brushing over the sliver of skin exposed between his hoodie and jeans. The touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shiver up Jisung’s spine. “Where should I do it this time?”
Then his fingers are ghosting higher, up Jisung’s ribs, and back down again. Jisung sucks in a breath when Minho’s hands slide under the waistband of his jeans, palms pressing into his hip bones.
“Somewhere that you’ll feel it.” Minho muses, fingers teasing along the skin around his navel. He leans in, mouth just barely brushing the shell of Jisung’s ear. “Somewhere sensitive.”
Jisung’s breath catches. His fingers twitch at his sides.
“You already know.” He says, almost accusatory, but his quivering voice gives him away.
Minho’s lips curve into a smirk. “Maybe.”
His hands shift again, under the fabric of Jisung’s hoodie, one splaying over his stomach while the other creeps up his chest, fingertips grazing over a nipple before pinching, sharp and sudden. Jisung gasps, his body jerking, a wave of heat rushing through him. Minho hums in satisfaction, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.
“But I like watching you wait for it.”
Jisung lets out a shaking exhale when Minho finally lets go, his cock already stirring in his jeans. His boyfriend stares at him for another moment before leaning back, grabbing a marker from his tray.
“Shirt off.”
Jisung hesitates for only a second before pulling his hoodie over his head, letting it drop onto the chair beside him. His skin prickles at the shift in temperature, at Minho’s gaze dragging over his bare torso. He takes Jisung’s body in slowly, assessing the jut of his hips, the pinch of his waist, the swell of his pecs.
His knees brush lightly against Jisung’s thigh when he rolls his stool back in, leaning close enough that Jisung can see the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks. His smirk lingers as he trails his fingers back down Jisung’s chest, deliberately slow, until he’s pressing a palm flat over his sternum.
“Let’s see...” He murmurs, thumb brushing over the same nipple he just played with, circling lazily, feeling the way Jisung’s breath stutters under his touch. “Yeah…this’ll do.”
Jisung barely has time to brace himself before Minho’s lips part, blowing out a soft, cool breath against his skin. It makes him jolt, a full body shiver running through him, his nipple hardening from the sensation.
“That’s better.” Minho says, dragging his nail over the dark skin of his areola, pinching lightly just to make Jisung wince.
A strangled noise escapes Jisung’s throat, his body arching instinctively. “Minho-”
Minho coos at him, pleased. “Good boy. Now hold still.”
Jisung bites his lip, barely resisting the urge to whimper when Minho marks two dots on his skin, placing the marker down on the side before reaching for the clamp. The metal is cold, biting, even before he tightens it, and Jisung exhales shakily, dropping his head back against the chair and closing his eyes. He’s sure Minho can feel his heartbeat where it hammers wildly in his chest.
“Breathe for me, baby.”
Just as the thought comes to him, Minho smooths a hand over his ribs, a grounding touch. “In…and out.”
Jisung obeys, chest rising and falling beneath Minho’s touch, anticipation coiling tight in his stomach when he feels the press of the needle against his skin.
Minho doesn’t warn him before he pushes it through.
The pain is quick but bright, sharp enough to steal the breath from Jisung’s lungs. He gasps, his whole body tensing, the clamp digging into his sensitive skin as Minho guides the needle through with practiced precision. The burn of the piercing lingers, stinging and electric, and the sensation goes straight to his cock.
Eventually he manages to force his eyes open, hazy with adrenaline, only to find Minho watching him, eyes dark.
“I knew you’d take it well,” Minho says, voice rich with approval as he threads the jewelry through, twisting a barbell onto the end, “my little painslut.”
Jisung’s mouth falls open of its own accord, his head filling with cotton as the sharp pain in his chest melts into something else, something good, something that has him breathing too fast and too shallow. Minho traces his fingers over the metal, pressing down over Jisung’s reddened, hypersensitive skin just enough to make him jolt.
He whimpers, fingers reaching out to clutch at Minho’s thighs, hips kicking mindlessly, needily .
“Hyung-”
Minho smiles, leaning in to press his lips against Jisung’s jaw. “Did it feel good?”
Jisung makes a sound that barely even registers as a word, but he’s too caught up in the ache in his chest, the heat curling low in his stomach, to care how he sounds. He nods, quick and desperate, blinking at Minho with pleading eyes. He whines when Minho stands up to discard his gloves, eyes fixated on the bulge in his boyfriend’s sweatpants, barely concealed by the soft material.
A fresh wave of arousal rolls through him at the sight, at the knowledge that Minho likes this as much as he does. It makes his mouth water, makes him press his thighs together in search of some relief.
He licks his lips, swinging his legs over the side of the chair, already reaching out. “Hyung, please-”
Minho leans down, pressing an open mouthed-kissed to the curve of his throat. “Please what, baby?”
Jisung’s fingers tremble as they curl into Minho’s t-shirt, tugging weakly. “Wanna make you feel good,” he breathes, tilting his head back further, giving Minho an expanse of skin to mark. “Let me-please, let me.”
There’s a sharp inhale, then he feels Minho smile into his neck.
“You just got pierced, bug.” Minho murmurs, but there’s no real protest to his voice.
“Don’t care. Need you in my mouth, please -”
Minho swears under his breath, fingers tangling in Jisung’s hair, tugging just enough to make him whimper. He keeps a tight hold of him when he pulls back. “You’re that desperate for it?”
Jisung nods again, eyes hazy. He stares up at Minho with a gaze so hungry that Minho groans at the sight of him. His thumb presses down against Jisung’s bottom lip, grazing over the silver of his vertical labret.
“Go on then.”
Jisung doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands reach for Minho’s waistband without a second thought, fingers hooking under the hem of his sweatpants. Everything in his mind narrows down to the burn in his chest, the ache between his legs, the overwhelming need to have Minho in his mouth.
But Minho doesn’t make it easy. He tilts Jisung’s chin up, thumb pressing into his lip piercing again, watching the way he shivers at the sensation. Toys with his mouth until Jisung whines again, hips twitching, tongue darting out to swirl around Minho’s fingers.
“Fuck…” Minho mutters, all restraint leaving him as he finally pushes his sweatpants down enough to free his cock. Saliva pools in Jisung’s mouth, eyes flicking to the silver barbell pierced through the underside of Minho’s cock. He loves to run his hands over it, feel the way Minho twitches in his grasp, but it’s even better when he's aching to taste him, to have the weight of it against his tongue.
When Minho pulls him closer he lets his mouth fall open, flattening his tongue along the underside of his shaft and dragging it upwards. He moans when he reaches the tip, taking Minho into his mouth. His tongue curls around the metal, feeling every bump and ridge of the piercing, catching it between his teeth just to hear Minho hiss.
“Fuck my mouth.” He begs, pulling off with a wet pop. A line of spit stretches between his mouth and Minho’s cock.
“Are you going to be good if I do?” Minho asks, petting the nape of Jisung’s neck. “Make sure not to catch your pretty new piercing on anything?”
Jisung nods, desperate to have his mouth full again. “Yes, yes , I will, I promise-”
He’s cut off when Minho guides him down, gagging when the head of his cock presses against the sensitive palate of his throat. He focuses on breathing through his nose and relaxing his throat, pawing at Minho’s sweatpants when it begins to spasm again each time the piercing drags across the back of his tongue.
“Good boy…that’s it.” Minho praises, his voice strained, pulling Jisung off by the hair. Jisung’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and he sucks in a deep breath, palming himself through his jeans. He rocks into his own hand while he pants, pathetically trying to relieve some of the pressure between his legs. Minho taps the head of his cock against Jisung’s mouth, the metal of their piercings clinking together before he hooks the barbell through his shaft over the ball in Jisung’s bottom lip, pulling at the skin until Jisung whimpers, until Minho can see the pink of his gums.
His eyes roll back when Minho feeds him his cock again, throat struggling with each thrust. The moan that escapes him comes out as a gurgle, spit spilling from the corners of his mouth when Minho fucks his face harder.
Around the sound of his own retching he hears the shift in Minho’s breath, the soft sighs that leave his lips in a sign that he's close. His fingers tighten in Jisung’s hair, the pace of his hips stuttering as Minho chases his orgasm. When he holds Jisung down it makes him throb.
“You’re so- ah -so good.” Minho rasps. He grinds the head of his cock against the back of Jisung’s tongue, moaning high in his throat when Jisung hums around him. “ Fuck , baby-”
Jisung swallows everything he’s given when Minho spills down his throat, bobbing his head until Minho strokes a hand through his hair, gently easing him off. He blinks slowly, still dizzy with arousal as Minho tilts his chin up, licking his lips on instinct.
“Hyung?” His voice is hoarse, tongue thick in his mouth.
“Go rinse your mouth out, Jisungie.”
His stomach flutters at the command. He sways a little when he manages to get to his feet, but Minho steadies him with a firm hand on his back before giving him a nudge towards the sink. He stares at his reflection for a moment, at how much of a wreck he is. Swollen lips, reddened nipple, erection straining obscenely in his jeans. Hands gripping the edge of the counter, he glances at Minho through the mirror, picking up the cup of mouthwash already prepared by the sink. He swishes it around his mouth slowly, mind still muddled with pleasure, anticipation crackling under his skin.
When he spits, Minho is already setting up. Fresh gloves snapped on, a new needle gleaming under the overhead light.
Jisung swallows hard, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “What are you doing?”
Minho meets his gaze through the mirror. The corner of his mouth curls. “You’re not done.”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through his gut. His legs move before his mind fully catches up, carrying him towards Minho with all the grace of a newborn fawn. His pulse thunders in his ears, a steady, insistent beat, as he eases himself back into the chair.
The sting of his nipple piercing has settled into a low, persistent throb, a dull ache that only serves to heighten the other sensations flooding his body. Minho wheels his stool close, leaning in with a gloved finger around Jisung’s jaw.
“You’ve been so good for me, Jisungie.” He murmurs, his voice almost a low purr. “Just one more and then hyung will give you what you need.”
Jisung just nods dumbly, barely resisting the urge to chase the warmth of Minho’s touch when he pulls away.
“Hyung…” he breathes, unsure whether it’s a question or a plea.
Minho just smiles at him, reaching for the marker. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby.”
He obeys without question, letting his mouth fall open as he sticks out his tongue. Minho makes a pleased sound, gripping Jisung’s chin to keep him still while he presses the cool tip of the marker against the muscle. The sensation is brief, a faint pressure, but Jisung still shivers. He tries not to fidget, but his breathing is uneven, his lashes fluttering as he watches Minho through half-lidded eyes.
“I’m glad I got to use that pretty mouth before it’s out of commission for a few weeks.”
Jisung swallows thickly, his tongue twitching under Minho’s touch. His lips tingle from being stretched around his boyfriend’s cock, and Minho’s words only make him ache more in his jeans. He tries to shift forward, to close the distance so he can rut his cock against something, anything , but Minho clicks his tongue in warning.
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, placing a palm on Jisung’s stomach, “be good.”
Jisung whines, but forces himself to sit back in the chair again, tongue lolling pathetically out of his mouth. His pulse quickens as Minho reaches for the clamp, his movements slow and methodical.
“Deep breath.” Minho instructs. Jisung inhales as the clamp pinches his tongue, the cold press of metal sending a tremble through his body. He curls his fingers tight into the fabric of his jeans, fighting the urge to squirm.
Then Minho picks up the needle.
Jisung’s hands twitch, heart hammering. Minho’s hand is steady as he strokes a gloved thumb across Jisung’s jaw, the touch both grounding and teasing all at once. He knows Minho loves to see him teetering on the edge of desperation.
“One more breath in…and out.”
His whole body jerks when the needle pierces through. A muffled whimper slips from his throat, the pain white-hot, searing, but alongside it his stomach coils, hips kicking. He knows he must be soaked in his underwear. His thighs tense, pressing together with each stuttering breath, and Minho’s sharp eyes don’t miss a second of it.
The moment stretches, dizzyingly so, before Minho finally threads the jewelry through. Jisung can’t help the soft, desperate sound that escapes him, caught as a low whimper in the back of his throat, drool spilling down his chin. It hurts, but it also feels so good, a throb that sinks deep and sets all of his nerves alight.
“Fuck…” He breathes when Minho finally releases the clamp, sagging back against the chair. His tongue feels heavy, foreign in his mouth, pulsing like it’s in possession of its own heartbeat. He blinks up at Minho, pupils blown wide, and Minho just smirks, wiping spit and a stray bead of blood from Jisung’s lip.
“I knew you’d take it well,” he murmurs.
Jisung keens at the praise, hands twitching, itching to grab at Minho, to pull him closer. His lips part instinctively, tongue peeking out, and he groans at the movement, the weight of the barbell sending another sharp wave of pleasure-pain straight through him.
“ Ah -” he gasps, voice wrecked. His fingers finally reach for Minho’s wrist, clinging to him with a desperation that makes his boyfriend’s smile widen.
Minho just hums, tilting Jisung’s chin up to inspect his work.
“You look so pretty like this,” he muses. His thumb lingers at the corner of Jisung’s mouth. “Bet you’ll feel even better.”
The words make Jisung’s eyes roll back, a weak cry breaking out of his open mouth when Minho finally pops the button on his jeans, palming him through his briefs. He ruts against Minho’s hand selfishly, pliant and pathetic, the pressure almost too much on his sensitive cock after being on edge for so long. He pants like an animal in heat, chasing his pleasure, body pulled taut, and Minho leans down to press a kiss to his jaw, sliding a warm hand up his chest.
“Minho-hyung, I need-”
“I’ve got you, bug.” Minho shushes him, then slips his hand into Jisung’s briefs.
The gloved hand around his cock sends sparks of pleasure up his spine, blooming heat in his gut. The fingers on his chin trail lower, ghosting over his throat, his collarbones, before settling over his chest, right where the fresh piercing sits. When Minho brushes his fingers against the sensitive skin, a whimper escapes him.
“Still sore, baby?” Minho asks, as if he doesn’t know. Jisung nods pitifully, a garbled cry bubbling up from his throat when Minho presses down, enough to send a sharp pulse of pain straight through him. His back arches, hips twitching, and he’s so close, so so close, he just needs-
Minho pinches the jewelry between his fingers and Jisung comes with a strangled groan.
He twitches in Minho’s hand, cock pulsing once, twice, before he slumps back against the chair, body thrumming with exhaustion as the adrenaline finally leaves him. His chest rises and falls heavily, skin damp with sweat, his tongue flicking out just enough for the silver of his new piercing to catch the light.
Minho strips off his gloves, tucking Jisung back into his jeans before running a hand through his damp hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “Feeling okay?”
“Mm.” Jisung hums, stretching his arms out over his head. He winces slightly when he moves his jaw, tongue thick and swollen in his mouth. “Feels weird.”
“Yeah? It’ll be sore for a while, but you’ll get used to it.” Minho says, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek. “You’ll love it soon enough.”
Jisung tilts his head to chase Minho’s lips, frowning when his boyfriend pulls back.
“Let’s get you up before you melt into this chair.”
Jisung groans dramatically, but lets Minho help him up nonetheless, his legs threatening to give out under him when he stands. He sways, only kept upright by the hand steadying his waist.
“Think you broke me.” He says, words clumsy from his sore tongue.
“You love it.” Minho rolls his eyes fondly. “C’mon, baby. You need some ice.”
He keeps a steady grip on Jisung’s waist as they step out of the piercing room, chuckling to himself when Jisung stumbles a little. He quirks a brow when they spot Felix still lounging behind the front desk.
“You’re still here?” He asks, adjusting his grip on Jisung when he staggers. “You could’ve gone home already, I’d lock up.”
Felix’s lips curl as he spins lazily in his chair. “Yeah, but then I’d miss all the fun.” His gaze flicks to Jisung, and his grin widens. “ Wow , you got wrecked. Oh, Hannie, you’re all fucked out and wobbly.”
Jisung glares at him, or at least tries to, but the effect is ruined when he sways again.
“Sh’d up.” He mutters, voice sluggish and slurred around the barbell in his tongue.
Felix lets out a delighted cackle and leans forward over the counter, peering at Jisung like he’s some kind of science experiment. “Oh my god, hyung, you did his tongue too?”
Minho shrugs. “He took it like a champ.”
Jisung just groans, burying his face in Minho’s shoulder. “Can we go home?”
Reaching for his bag, Felix tosses the shop keys on the counter with a knowing smirk. “I’m heading out too. Go take care of your little painslut before he collapses.”
“That’s the plan.”
The bell jingles as Felix waves goodbye, the door swinging closed behind him. Jisung doesn’t have the energy to shout obscenities at him, just sighs against Minho’s shoulder as he lets himself be guided to the couch. Minho grabs an ice pack from the mini freezer, pressing it against Jisung’s sore chest. He jolts at the sudden chill, whining in protect, but Minho just shushes him, rubbing slow circles against his thigh.
“Don’t be a baby now.” Minho murmurs teasingly. Jisung pouts, but doesn’t talk back, eyelids heavy as he tries to resist the urge to fall asleep. He melts further into Minho’s touch, comforted by the warmth of the hand against his leg.
At some point, the ice pack disappears, replaced by Minho tugging his hoodie over his head, carefully guiding his arms through the sleeves. Jisung just rests his head on Minho’s chest as he lets himself be dressed.
Minho presses a soft kiss to his temple. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Jisung hums, already half-asleep against him. “Carry me…”
“You’re pushing it.” Minho says, pulling Jisung up with him, but his arm stays wrapped firmly around his waist as they step outside into the quiet street, the neon light of the shop’s sign finally flickering off for the night.