China Line
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Summary
Junhui isn’t nearly as drunk as his friends; unfortunately, they’re the ones selecting his punishment for having lost miserably at this party game.
“Kiss someone,” Seokmin slurrily suggests.
“Hook up with someone!” Jeonghan corrects.
“With Minghao!”
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Summary
“Well- I mean, you’re just- tiny. Like- I can’t imagine you being on top of- him.” Junhui’s stuttered response comes out a moment later, and Minghao feels vaguely offended.
“Excuse me?” He pushes back against the seat behind him, feeling his inhibitions slowly melt away in anger.
Color brightens Junhui’s cheeks, and he makes a nervous laughing sound as he tries to explain himself. A few moments of silence go by with his mouth moving but making no sound, all until he blurts:
“You’re a twink.”
Minghao blinks in surprise, “No I’m not.”
“I hate to break it to you, babe,” Junhui laughs, condescending, “But you kind of are, by like- definition.”
Or the twink finally admits he’s a bottom.
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Summary
"What is this?" Junhui asked, the words quick Mandarin, spoken in the split-second Minghao had used to breathe. But Junhui knew how he looked, knew what he was doing in his black studded choker, his black flowy shirt that both clung to him and exposed too much skin at the same time; his dark eye makeup. Minghao wanted to smudge it. He wanted to run it down Junhui's cheeks.
Junhui had teased Minghao on stage. He'd also thought that Minghao would hold it together better.