Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jisung had been staring at his phone for the past twenty minutes, reading and rereading Jeongin’s last message: Can’t wait for tomorrow night. I’ll bring wine ;)

The winking emoji felt loaded with implication. They’d been on three dates now and each one had ended with a hug that lasted just a bit too long, with Jeongin’s hands lingering on Jisung’s waist. Tomorrow, Jeongin was coming over to Jisung’s apartment.

The implication was clear.

Jisung set his phone down and dropped his head into his hands. He was twenty-three years old and he’d never even kissed anyone. Not once. Not even a drunken mistake at a party or a childhood peck. Nothing.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t had opportunities. There had been interest over the years—a guy in his literature class, someone at a club, a few matches on dating apps before Jeongin. But every time things started moving in that direction, Jisung would panic and pull away.

The truth was, there was only one person he’d ever wanted to kiss and that person had been his best friend since they were six years old.

Lee Minho.

Minho, who had held Jisung’s hand on the first day of school when Jisung was too scared to go in alone. Minho, who had taught him how to ride a bike and punched a kid who made fun of Jisung’s braces in middle school. Minho, who had been there for every important moment of Jisung’s life.

Minho, who definitely didn’t see Jisung as anything more than a friend.

So Jisung had downloaded dating apps, determined to get over his hopeless crush. He’d matched with Jeongin who was cute and very interested in him and had been trying very hard to convince himself that he could develop feelings for someone else.

But now, faced with the reality of Jeongin coming over with clear expectations, Jisung was panicking.

He picked up his phone and called the only person he could talk to about this.

“You better be dying,” Minho’s voice came through. “It’s two AM.”

“I need your help.”

There was a pause, then rustling as Minho presumably sat up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just…can I come over?”

“Now?”

“Please?”

“Yeah, okay. Just let yourself in.”

~

Minho’s apartment was only a ten-minute walk from Jisung’s. They’d deliberately chosen places close to each other when they’d moved out of the dorms after graduation. Jisung let himself in with the spare key Minho had given him, finding his best friend in the kitchen making tea.

Minho looked unfairly good even in his half asleep state—grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that fit a little too well around his biceps. Jisung tried not to notice, like he’d been trying not to notice for years.

“So,” Minho said, handing him a mug. “What’s the emergency?”

Jisung wrapped his hands around the warmth. “It’s about Jeongin.”

“The dating app guy?”

“Yeah. He’s coming over tomorrow night after our date.”

“Okay…?”

“He’s coming over, Min. Like, to my apartment. Alone. At night. With wine.”

Understanding dawned on Minho’s face. “Oh.”

Jisung took a sip of tea, burning his tongue. “And I don’t know what I’m doing. At all. I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

Minho leaned against the counter. “Are you asking for advice?”

“Not exactly.” Jisung set his mug down, his heart racing. This was insane. This was probably going to ruin everything. But he was desperate. “I need you to help me practice.”

Minho blinked. “Practice what?”

“You know…” Jisung gestured vaguely. “Sex stuff. Positions. Techniques. I don’t want to be completely clueless tomorrow.”

“You want me to…” Minho stared at him. “Ji, we’ve been friends since we were six. That’s weird.”

“I know it’s weird!” Jisung’s words came out in a rush. “But you’re the only person I trust enough to ask. Everyone else would make it weird or tell other people or…I  don’t know, Min, I’m just really freaking out here.”

Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably,” Jisung agreed. “But I’m asking anyway. Please?” He clasped his hands together. “I’m literally begging you. I’ll do anything. I’ll do your laundry for a month. Two months. I’ll never eat your leftovers again. I’ll…”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Please Min!!  I really like Jeongin and I don’t want to completely embarrass myself. I promise it won’t be weird. We’ll just… go through the motions like it's a tutorial or something like that.”

Minho was quiet for a long moment and Jisung could see the internal debate playing out on his face.

Finally, Minho sighed. “Fine. But if this ruins our friendship, I’m blaming you.”

Jisung’s face  lit up. “Thank you, thank you! I promise it won’t be weird.”

“When do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow? Before my date? I’m wearing my outfit and everything so I can practice in what I’ll actually be wearing.”

Minho’s expression flickered with something Jisung couldn’t quite read. “Okay. Come over around three.”

~

Jisung spent the entire next day anxious and jittery. He changed his outfit three times before settling on the original choice—a black mini skirt with fishnets underneath and an oversized black sweater which kept sliding off his shoulders. He did his makeup carefully, dark eyeliner that made his eyes look bigger and a touch of gloss on his lips.

He studied himself in the mirror and felt a quiet surge of confidence. He looked attractive, undeniably so. The skirt showed off his thighs while the fishnets clung to them like second skin. 

He packed the outfit carefully in a bag and headed to Minho’s apartment at 2:55.

Minho answered the door in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, his hair still damp from a shower. “Hey. Come in.”

“Hi.” Jisung stepped inside, suddenly feeling awkward. “So, um, I’m going to change in your bathroom?”

“Sure.”

In the bathroom, Jisung changed quickly, taking a moment to check his reflection. He tugged at the hem of the skirt, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Minho was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when Jisung emerged and something flickered across his face—something hot and wanting that was gone so quickly Jisung thought he might have imagined it.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Minho’s voice was carefully neutral.

“Yeah, do you think it’s too much?” Jisung tugged at the hem of the skirt self-consciously, which only made it ride up higher on his thighs.

“No, it’s..” Minho cleared his throat, looking away. “It’s fine. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Jisung fidgeted with his hands. “So, um, how do we start?”

Minho set his phone aside. “Sit down, I guess.”

Jisung sat on the bed, leaving a careful distance between them. The silence stretched, becoming awkward.

“Okay,” Minho finally said. “We should establish some ground rules first.”

“Right, rules.” Jisung nodded eagerly.

“No kissing,” Minho said firmly, his eyes fixed on the wall rather than on Jisung. “That should be special. Save your first kiss for Jeongin.”

Something twisted in Jisung’s chest but he nodded. “Okay. No kissing. What else?”

“We stop if either of us gets uncomfortable. And this is just… educational. We’re not actually doing anything, just going through positions so you know what to expect and how to move.”

“Got it. Educational.” Jisung bit his bottom lip unconsciously.

“Stop doing that or you’ll mess up your makeup,” Minho said automatically.

“Sorry! I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.” Minho shifted, angling his body slightly toward Jisung. “So, uh, I guess we should start with the basics. When things start getting heated, there’s usually a lot of… touching.”

“Touching..” Jisung repeated, his mouth dry.

“Yeah. Like…okay, come here.” Minho patted the space in front of him.

Jisung scooted closer until their knees were almost touching.

“So, he’ll probably want to touch you,” Minho explained, his voice carefully even. “Your waist, your thighs, your back..just kind of exploring your body to get familiar with it. You should do the same. It’s about building anticipation and tension.”

“How do I do that?”

“Just… Here, I’ll show you. This is just a demonstration, okay?”

“Okay.”

Minho reached out slowly, giving Jisung time to pull away if he wanted. When he didn’t, Minho placed his hands on Jisung’s waist, his fingers pressing gently against the soft material of the sweater. Jisung sucked in a sharp breath, his skin tingling even through the fabric.

“Like this,” Minho said, his voice dropping lower. “You can move your hands up, down, just… exploring. Reading his reactions to see what he likes.”

He demonstrated, sliding his hands down to rest on Jisung’s hips, thumbs brushing against the small strip of exposed skin between the sweater and skirt. 

Jisung shivered involuntarily.

“You’re sensitive here,” Minho observed clinically, even though his jaw was tight. “Good to know. Now you try…just put your hands on me. Shoulders, chest, whatever feels natural.”

Jisung’s hands were tentative at first, resting lightly on Minho’s shoulders. The muscle there was firm under his palms and he could feel the warmth of Minho’s skin through the thin t-shirt. Growing bolder, he slid his hands down to Minho’s chest, fingers splaying wide.

“Good,” Minho said. “That’s good. You can be more exploratory than that, though. Don’t be afraid to touch.”

Jisung let his hands wander over Minho’s chest, down his sides, feeling the way his muscles shifted under his touch. It felt intimate in a way that made his heart race.

“Now, the positions,” Minho continued and Jisung could see the effort it took for him to maintain his unaffected tone. “Usually, if you’re going to be, uh, receiving, you’ll either be on your back or on top. We should cover both so you know what to expect.”

“Which one first?”

“On your back is probably easier for a first time. Lie down.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Wow, just immediately assuming I’m a bottom, huh?”

Minho blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “I..what? I just meant—”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Jisung continued, enjoying the way Minho was suddenly flustered. “But it’s pretty presumptuous of you, Min. What if I wanted to top?”

“Do you want to top?” Minho asked, his voice slightly strangled.

“No, but that’s not the point.” Jisung grinned. “The point is you just looked at me in this skirt and immediately went ‘yeah, that’s a bottom.’”

“I did not!” Minho ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling. “Okay, fine. Do you want me to explain it from a top perspective first?”

“No, I’m just giving you shit.” Jisung lay back against the pillows, still smirking. “You were right. I definitely want to receive. Continue with your very presumptuous lesson.”

“You’re an asshole,” Minho muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“So I have been told.”

Something flickered in Minho’s eyes at that but he just shook his head. “Okay so, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

Jisung laughed, getting comfortable against the pillows. His skirt had ridden up considerably and he resisted the urge to pull it down. The fishnets stretched across his thighs and he could see Minho’s eyes tracking the movement before he deliberately looked away. 

“So, um,” Jisung said, looking up at Minho. “What now?”

Minho knelt beside him on the bed, his hands carefully at his sides. “Well, there’ll probably be more touching first. He’ll want to… appreciate you.” His voice caught slightly on the words. “He might kiss your neck, your collarbone, your chest. You can touch him too, pull him closer to guide him to where you want his attention.”

“Should we practice that part?”

Minho’s eyes flickered to his face. “Okay, so I’m going to position myself over you. This is still just a demonstration.”

He moved carefully, settling his weight on his hands as he hovered over Jisung. His arms were on either side of Jisung’s head, caging him in.

“This is a pretty standard position,” Minho explained. “You’d want to wrap your arms around him, maybe your legs too. It helps with the angle and intimacy.”

“Like this?” Jisung’s arms came up to loop around Minho’s neck and suddenly they were much closer, barely any space between their bodies.

“Yeah, exactly like that.” Minho’s voice was rougher.“And if you wanted more leverage, you could…” He carefully hooked his hands under Jisung’s knees, lifting them. “Wrap your legs around his waist.”

Jisung did, and suddenly they were pressed close together, Minho’s weight settling more fully onto him. Jisung could feel everything—the heat of Minho’s body seeping through their clothes, the solid muscle of his thighs against Jisung’s own, the way Minho’s chest pressed against his with each breath. And lower, impossible to ignore, he could feel that Minho was already half-hard.

Jisung’s breath caught. He knew Minho could probably feel the same about him—that he was already affected, already wanting. The skirt had ridden up enough that there was barely any fabric between them. 

“Okay,” Jisung managed, his voice coming out breathy and uncertain. “What next?”

Minho’s jaw was tight, his arms trembling slightly where they held his weight above Jisung. For a moment, neither of them moved, both hyperaware of how their bodies were aligned, of every point of contact.

“So this is good for depth and intimacy,” Minho finally said, his voice rougher than before. “The main thing is rhythm. You want to move together, not against each other. It’s like dancing..you have to find a synchronization.”

“How do I know the rhythm?”

“You follow his lead at first, then you’ll find it naturally. Here..” Minho shifted his hips slightly, a slow rolling motion and Jisung gasped at the drag of sensation even through their clothes. “You’d move like that. Slow at first, then you can adjust based on what feels good.”

“Can we… can we practice that?” Jisung’s voice came out breathless. “The rhythm part?”

This was a terrible idea. Minho could feel his grip on the situation already slipping. But he’d agreed to help and backing out now would only make it worse.

“Just the motion,” Minho said firmly. “No actual…we’re keeping clothes on.”

“Obviously.”

Minho lowered himself slightly, not quite pressing their bodies flush together but close enough that Jisung would get the idea.

“Okay, so I’ll move and you try to match it. Ready?”

Jisung nodded, his eyes locked on Minho’s face.

Minho started with slow, gentle rolls of his hips, demonstrating the motion. Jisung tried to follow, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated at first. But after a few attempts, he started to get it, his body learning to anticipate Minho’s movements and meet them.

“That’s it,” Minho encouraged, his voice strained. “Just like that. You’re a quick learner.”

“Am I doing it right?” Jisung asked, and then he rolled his hips up at the same time Minho moved down and they pressed together fully for the first time.

Both of them froze.

Minho was definitely, undeniably hard. And from what he could feel, so was Jisung.

The air between them crackled with tension, both of them breathing harder than they should be for such simple movements.

“Sorry,” Jisung whispered. “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s fine,” Minho said quickly. “It’s a normal biological response to stimulation. Doesn’t mean anything. We should probably just… keep going. For educational purposes.”

“Right. Educational.”

They resumed the rhythm, and now there was no ignoring the friction between them, the way their bodies moved together with only thin layers of fabric separating them. 

Minho gritted his teeth, trying desperately to maintain his detachment but it was becoming impossible.

Jisung’s fingers tightened on Minho’s shoulders, his head falling back against the pillow. His neck was exposed and Minho had to actively stop himself from leaning down to—

No. No kissing. Those were the rules.

“Min..” Jisung’s voice was breathy.

“Remember to breathe,” Minho instructed, his own breathing far from steady. “And communicate. If something feels good, let him know. If something doesn’t, speak up immediately.”

“This feels..” Jisung bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed. “This feels really good.”

Fuck. “Good. That’s good. You want it to feel good.”

They kept moving together, the rhythm becoming more desperate. Jisung’s legs tightened around Minho’s waist, pulling him closer and he was making these small sounds in the back of his throat that were driving Minho absolutely insane.

Every roll of their hips sent sparks of pleasure through Minho’s body. He could feel Jisung hardening further beneath him, could feel the way Jisung’s body was responding to every movement. It took every ounce of his self-control not to grind down harder, not to chase the friction they both clearly wanted.

“You can be more vocal,” Minho heard himself say. “Most people like feedback. Let him know what feels good.”

“Like this?” Jisung let out a soft moan and Minho nearly lost all semblance of control.

“Yeah. Just like that.” He was going to hell. He was definitely going to hell and it would be worth it.

The grinding was becoming more intense, both of them seeking more friction, more pressure. Minho’s arms were shaking from holding himself up, from maintaining even this small distance between them when everything in him wanted to collapse onto Jisung completely, to feel every inch of him.

“What about…” Jisung panted, his hips moving restlessly. “What about other positions?”

Right. Other positions. Minho forced himself to stop moving, to pull back slightly even though his body screamed in protest. “There’s, uh, being on top. That gives you more control over everything…the pace, the depth, the angle.”

“Should we try that?”

They were really doing this. They were really going to continue this torture. “Sure. Okay. Switch with me.”

They maneuvered awkwardly, trying to maintain some semblance of propriety even though they were both obviously aroused. 

Minho lay back against the pillows while Jisung straddled his hips, the new position making his skirt bunch up around his hips.

Minho could see the full expanse of Jisung’s thighs in those fishnets now, could see where they disappeared under the skirt, could see the way Jisung’s sweater had slipped off one shoulder. He looked like every fantasy Minho had tried to suppress for years.

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to center himself. “So this position gives you control over everything. You set the pace, the intensity. You can move however feels good for you.”

“How should I move?”

“However feels natural. Some people like grinding, some like bouncing, some like a combination. Just… experiment. See what works.”

Jisung placed his hands on Minho’s chest for balance and started moving.

He tried rocking back and forth first, slow and experimental. The drag of their bodies together made Minho’s breath catch, made his fingers twist in the sheets beside him. He had to grip the fabric to keep from reaching up and grabbing Jisung’s hips, from directing the movement himself.

“Is this right?” Jisung asked, his voice uncertain.

“Yeah,” Minho managed, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. “That’s..that’s good. Keep going.”

Jisung tried rolling his hips in circles next, grinding down in a way that created constant pressure. Both of them gasped at the sensation, at the way it sent heat pooling low in their stomachs. The friction was maddening; enough to feel good, not enough to actually satisfy.

“Oh,” Jisung breathed, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, that feels…”

“Good?” Minho’s voice was strained.

“Really good.” Jisung repeated the motion, grinding down in slow, deliberate circles. His movements were becoming more confident, more purposeful. He shifted his weight slightly, changing the angle and both of them groaned at the new sensation.

The skirt had bunched up completely around Jisung’s waist now and Minho could see everything—the way the fishnets stretched across Jisung’s thighs, the flex of muscle as he moved and the obvious bulge straining against his underwear. Minho’s hands were aching from gripping the sheets so hard, his knuckles white with the effort of not touching.

Jisung experimented with lifting up slightly and pressing back down, creating a bouncing motion that was entirely different from the grinding. Each time he lifted, Minho felt the loss of pressure like a physical ache, and each time he came back down, the impact sent pleasure shooting up his spine.

“Which one..” Jisung panted, switching between motions. “Which one is better?”

“They’re all..fuck..they’re all good,” Minho gritted out through clenched teeth. “Different benefits. The grinding creates more constant pressure. The bouncing is more intense, better for depth, but it’s more of a buildup.”

Jisung tried combining both, lifting slightly and then grinding down in a rolling motion that had both of them gasping. He was getting more confident now, his body finding a rhythm that felt natural. The hesitation from earlier was gone, replaced by something more primal.

“You okay?” Jisung asked, his own voice wrecked as he looked down at Minho. 

“Fine. Just keep going. You’re doing great.”

And he was. Jisung was a natural, his body moving with an instinctive grace that Minho hadn’t expected. Every roll of his hips was more confident than the last, every grind more deliberate. The fishnets had started to tear slightly under the friction, small splits appearing in the delicate material.

Jisung leaned forward slightly, changing the angle again. This new position had him grinding more directly against Minho. Both of them moaned at the way they could feel each other so clearly through the thin layers of fabric.

“Min, I think..” Jisung’s movements were becoming more frantic now, less controlled. His thighs were trembling slightly on either side of Minho’s hips. “I think I’m getting close to..”

“That’s normal,” Minho managed, his own hips wanting desperately to thrust up. “Just let it happen. Don’t hold back.”

But Jisung slowed, his brow furrowing even as his chest heaved. “Wait, you said…we can both move, right? In real life?”

Minho’s brain was too foggy with arousal to understand where this was going. “What?”

“You said usually both people move together. We should practice that way too, right? To make it realistic?”

Oh. Oh no.

“I..yeah,” Minho heard himself agree, his judgment clearly compromised. “Yeah, that would be more realistic.”

“Can you… touch me? It might help me learn better if it feels more real.”

This was such a bad idea. The worst idea. But Minho’s hands were moving before his brain could catch up, releasing the death grip on the sheets and settling on Jisung’s hips. The feeling of finally, finally touching was almost overwhelming—the warmth of Jisung’s skin where the sweater had ridden up and the slight dampness from sweat. 

“Like this?” Minho asked, his voice barely recognizable.

“Yeah,” Jisung breathed. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

With his hands on Jisung’s hips, Minho could guide slightly to help him find the angles that made them both gasp. His fingers pressed into soft flesh, thumbs rubbing unconscious circles against the torn fishnets, occasionally slipping beneath the elastic of Jisung’s underwear to touch bare skin.

Jisung started moving again and this time Minho moved with him. He rolled his hips up to meet Jisung’s downward motion and the synchronization was devastating. They both groaned at the pressure that was finally, finally enough to feel good.

The movement caused Jisung’s oversized sweater to slide off his shoulder completely, exposing the smooth expanse of his collarbone and the upper curve of his shoulder. Minho’s eyes were drawn to it immediately, the way it looked so soft, so tempting. He wanted to put his mouth there, wanted to taste, to bite, to mark.

“Oh god,” Jisung whimpered, apparently oblivious to the way Minho was staring at his exposed skin. His fingers dug into Minho’s chest harder, nails scraping slightly through the fabric. “Min that’s…”

Minho forced his eyes away from Jisung’s shoulder, forced himself to focus. But his hands tightened on Jisung’s hips, pulling him down harder than he’d intended and Jisung made a sound that went straight to Minho’s cock.

“Good?” Minho managed to ask, his voice completely wrecked now. He thrust up again, harder this time and watched as the sweater slipped even further down Jisung’s arm, now bunched around his elbow. The neckline was so loose it had dragged down with it, exposing more of Jisung’s chest.

“So good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Minho couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to. His hands were moving on instinct now, one sliding from Jisung’s hip up under the sweater to glide across his bare back. Jisung’s skin was hot and slightly damp with sweat and the feel of it against Minho’s palm made him groan.

“Is this…” Minho’s voice was ragged. “Is this okay? For the lesson?”

“Yes,” Jisung gasped, arching into the touch. “Yes, you should..you should touch. So I know what to expect.”

It was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it, but neither of them cared anymore. Minho’s hand traced up Jisung’s spine, feeling every shiver that ran through Jisung’s body. His other hand was still gripping Jisung’s hip guiding his movements, pulling him down harder with each grind. 

Jisung leaned forward, changing the angle again, and suddenly his face was much closer to Minho’s. 

“We can’t kiss,” Minho reminded him but his voice barely had any conviction.

“I know,” Jisung breathed but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he ground down particularly hard and both of them moaned at the sensation.

The sweater had slipped so far down now that Minho could see the dusky pink of Jisung’s nipple. Without thinking, his hand moved from Jisung’s back to his side, thumb brushing against the sensitive flesh.

Jisung jerked like he’d been electrocuted, a broken sound falling from his lips. “Fuck..Min..”

“Sorry, I just..” But Minho’s thumb brushed over it again, watching in fascination as it hardened under his touch. “This okay?”

“Yes,” Jisung whimpered, his hips moving faster now, more desperately. “Yes, that’s…oh god..”

Minho couldn’t help himself. He pushed the sweater down further with his other hand, exposing both of Jisung’s nipples and then he was touching both of them, rolling them between his fingers, watching Jisung fall apart above him.

“You’re so sensitive here,” Minho observed, his voice rough with want. “He’ll probably..he’ll definitely pay attention to these.”

“Show me,” Jisung gasped. “Show me what he’ll do.”

This was so far beyond what they’d agreed to, but Minho was too far gone to care. He sat up slightly, bringing his mouth close to Jisung’s chest. “He might kiss them. Lick them. Bite them, if you like that.”

“Do you…” Jisung’s voice was shaking. “Do you think I’d like that?”

“Only one way to find out,” Minho murmured, his resolve crumbling completely. He leaned forward and closed his lips around Jisung’s nipple.

Jisung cried out, his whole body shuddering, his fingers tangling in Minho’s hair and pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. Minho sucked gently, letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh and Jisung’s hips went wild above him, grinding down with just desperate need.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Jisung was chanting, his head thrown back, his body trembling. “Min, I can’t…I’m going to..”

Minho released his nipple with a wet sound and moved to the other one, giving it the same attention. His hands were back on Jisung’s hips, helping him move, guiding him through the desperate grinding. He could feel how close Jisung was, could feel how his thighs were shaking, how his movements were becoming uncoordinated.

One of Minho’s hands slid from Jisung’s hip down to his ass, squeezing through the skirt and Jisung let out an immediate moan. Minho did it again, properly groping him now, pulling him down harder with each grind.

“Min..” Jisung’s voice was wrecked. “Your hands..”

“He’ll probably touch you here too,” Minho said roughly, his hand kneading the flesh of Jisung’s ass. “Especially in this skirt. He won’t be able to help himself.”

His other hand slid down to Jisung’s thigh, fingers spreading across the torn fishnets. The material was so shredded now that Minho could feel bare skin through the holes, hot and slightly damp with sweat. He squeezed, feeling the firm muscle flex under his palm as Jisung moved.

“And here,” Minho continued, his voice getting rougher. His hand traveled up Jisung’s inner thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to where Jisung was straining against his underwear. “These fucking fishnets, Ji. He’s going to lose his mind.”

“Yeah?” Jisung gasped, grinding down harder.

“Yeah.” Minho’s hand moved to the other thigh, gripping it, feeling the way the muscle trembled under his touch. He traced patterns on the bare skin where the fishnets had completely torn away, his fingers following the line up toward Jisung’s hip. “Your thighs look so good like this. So fucking good.”

Jisung whimpered, his hips moving faster now, more desperately. Minho’s hands roamed over his thighs freely now, sometimes one on his thigh and one on his ass, pulling him down, controlling the rhythm.

“You’re shaking,” Minho observed, his hands sliding up and down Jisung’s thighs, feeling the tremors running through them. “Are you close?”

“So close,” Jisung gasped. “Don’t stop touching me, please.”

Minho tightened his grip on both thighs, using the leverage to pull Jisung down hard against him while thrusting up at the same time. Jisung cried out, his head falling back.

“Like this?” Minho did it again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Jisung’s inner thighs. “Is this good?”

“Yes, yes, fuck..” Jisung was barely coherent now.

Minho’s hands were everywhere—gripping Jisung’s ass, squeezing his thighs, sliding up under the skirt to feel more skin. One hand settled on Jisung’s hip while the other stayed on his thigh, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive inner dangerously close to where Jisung was leaking and hard.

“Min, please..” Jisung was barely coherent, his words slurring together. “I need—fuck—I can’t—”

“What do you need?” Minho asked, his voice wrecked. His hand on Jisung’s thigh slid higher, and through the soaked fabric of Jisung’s underwear, he could feel how hard Jisung was. 

“Touch me,” Jisung begged, all pretense of this being educational completely gone. “Please, Min, I need you to touch me..”

“I am touching you,” Minho said, but his hand pressed against Jisung through the underwear, and they both groaned at the contact.

“More,” Jisung whimpered, grinding down desperately against Minho’s hand. “Please, more..”

Minho’s control snapped. His hand pressed harder, rubbing Jisung through the fabric and Jisung made a sound that was almost a sob. His other hand gripped Jisung’s ass, pulling him into the touch, and Jisung was completely lost to it, grinding against Minho’s hand and his cock at the same time.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so hard,” Minho groaned. “So wet. Can feel it through your underwear.”

“Don’t stop,” Jisung was practically crying now, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. “Please don’t stop, I’m so close..”

Minho’s hand worked him through the fabric, rubbing and pressing, while his other hand guided Jisung’s hips, making him grind down harder. “You look so fucking good like this. So desperate. So fucked out.”

“Yes,” Jisung gasped. “Yes, I’m…I’m yours..I mean, I’m..fuck…”

Minho heard it. Heard what Jisung had almost said. His hand pressed harder, his hips thrusting up to meet Jisung’s desperate grinding. “Say it again.”

“What?” Jisung was trembling, so close to the edge.

“What you just said. Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” Jisung sobbed out and he didn’t even seem to realize what he was saying anymore, too lost in pleasure. “I’m yours, Min, please..”

That broke something in Minho. His hand slipped inside Jisung’s underwear, finally touching bare skin.

“Fuck!” Jisung’s whole body convulsed. “Oh fuck, oh god, Min..”

Minho’s hand wrapped around Jisung properly now and Jisung was so hard, already leaking everywhere. He was a mess, completely undone, and Minho had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Is this okay?” Minho asked, even though they’d already crossed every line they’d set.

“Yes,” Jisung practically shouted. “Yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop..”

Minho was stroking him while Jisung grinded down frantically, fucking into Minho’s fist while also grinding against Minho’s clothed cock, completely lost to sensation. His thighs were shaking violently, his whole body trembling.

“I can’t..I’m going to..Min, I’m..”

“Come for me,” Minho managed to blurt out, his hand working faster.

Jisung came with a broken scream, his whole body going rigid and Minho could feel the warmth coating his fingers. But Jisung didn’t stop moving—he kept riding through it, overstimulating himself and the sounds he was making were absolutely wrecked.

“Too much,” Jisung whimpered, but he didn’t stop moving. “It’s too much, but I can’t..”

Minho’s other hand grabbed Jisung’s hip but kept his hand on Jisung’s cock, stroking him through the aftershocks until Jisung was sobbing.

“Okay, okay,” Minho said, finally releasing him. “I’ve got you.”

Jisung collapsed forward onto Minho’s chest, his whole body shaking, completely boneless. He was breathing hard, little whimpers still escaping his throat with each exhale.

Minho wrapped his arms around him, one hand coming up to stroke his hair, trying to soothe him. His other hand, still sticky, rested on Jisung’s back.

“You okay?” Minho asked softly.

“That was..” Jisung couldn’t even form words. “I can’t..my brain isn’t working.”

Minho couldn’t help but smile, even though he was still painfully hard, still untouched. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never..” Jisung lifted his head slightly to look at Minho, his eyes glazed. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

“Good?”

“So good I think I died a little,” Jisung said, then he seemed to realize something. “Wait. You didn’t..”

“It’s fine,” Minho said quickly.

“No.” Jisung pushed himself up slightly, looking more alert now despite how wrecked he still looked. “No, that’s not fair. Let me..I  want to..”

His hand moved to Minho’s waistband but Minho caught it.

“Ji, you don’t have to..”

“I want to,” Jisung said firmly. “Please. Let me make you feel good too.”

“Okay,” Minho breathed. “Okay.”

Jisung’s hand slipped into Minho’s sweatpants, under his boxers, and wrapped around him, but before he could do anything, Minho caught his wrist.

“Wait,” Minho said, his voice strained.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Jisung looked worried.

“No, just..” Minho’s brain was barely functioning, but an idea had taken hold. “There’s something else. Another way.”

“Another way?” Jisung tilted his head. 

“Your thighs,” Minho said roughly. “Can I… can I use your thighs?”

Jisung’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed even darker. “My thighs?”

“Yeah. It’s…” Minho swallowed hard. “You just keep them pressed together and I can…between them. If you want. You don’t have to..”

“Yes,” Jisung said immediately. “Yes, I want that. Show me.”

“Stand up for me,” Minho said.

Jisung stood on shaky legs and Minho came up behind him, pressing his chest against Jisung’s back. One arm wrapped around Jisung’s waist to hold him steady.

“Now press your thighs together,” Minho instructed.

Jisung did, squeezing his thighs closed and Minho groaned. He pushed his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing himself completely. From behind, he bent his knees slightly to get the right angle and slowly pushed his cock between Jisung’s pressed-together thighs.

Even with Jisung’s thighs squeezed tight, Minho’s girth stretched them slightly, forcing them apart just a bit. The standing position gave Minho perfect leverage and Jisung could feel the full weight and heat of Minho’s cock between his legs.

They both groaned at the sensation. Jisung’s thighs were soft and warm, still slightly damp with sweat and the torn fishnets added a rough texture that made Minho’s head spin.

“Oh my god,” Jisung whimpered, looking down at where he could see the head of Minho’s cock emerging between his thighs with each thrust. “I can feel you. You’re so thick…my thighs can barely..”

“Yeah,” Minho gasped against Jisung’s neck, pulling back and thrusting forward again slowly. His cock dragged heavily between Jisung’s thighs, the thick length impossible to ignore. “Fuck, your thighs feel so good, Ji. So tight around me.” 

“This is..” Jisung’s voice was shaky, his hands coming down to grip Minho’s arm that was wrapped around his waist, needing support. “I can see you. Can see your cock coming through my thighs. You’re so big.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“Keep watching,” Minho whispered in his ear, his hips moving in a steady rhythm now. “Watch my cock fuck your thighs.”

“Fuck,” Jisung breathed, staring. “Min, you’re huge. I can’t believe…that was pressed against me this whole time?”

“I know. Been like this since you walked in wearing that skirt.”

Minho’s free hand slid down Jisung’s body, pushing up under the sweater to play with his nipples, making Jisung gasp and arch back against him. The movement made his thighs press even tighter together and Minho groaned at the increased pressure.

“That’s it,” Minho praised, his hips snapping forward harder now. “Keep them tight for me. You’re doing so good.”

Jisung squeezed his thighs together more, and Minho moaned, his hips starting to move faster. The friction was incredible—the softness of Jisung’s inner thighs, the rough texture of the fishnets and the heat of Jisung’s body pressed against his.

“You feel so good,” Minho groaned. “These thighs have been driving me crazy all day. Wanted to do this the whole time.”

“Yeah?” Jisung pushed his ass back against Minho’s hips. “You’ve been thinking about fucking my thighs?”

“God, yes,” Minho thrust harder, his cock sliding through the tight press of Jisung’s thighs. “Been thinking about it since you walked out of the bathroom in this outfit.”

Jisung moaned, his own hand coming down to touch himself through his underwear again. “I’m getting hard again. Just from feeling you use my thighs.”

“Fuck,” Minho’s hand left Jisung’s chest and gripped his hip, holding him in place as he thrust faster. “You’re so perfect. So fucking perfect.”

“Min..” Jisung’s knees were getting weak, his whole body trembling. “I can’t..I need..”

“I’ve got you,” Minho promised, his arm tightening around Jisung’s waist, holding him up. “Just keep your thighs together. Let me use them.”

Jisung whimpered, his hands gripping Minho’s arm desperately as he watched Minho’s cock continue to slide between his thighs. Every thrust pushed the thick length through and Jisung could feel him throbbing.

“Touch yourself,” Minho commanded, his voice rough in Jisung’s ear. “Want to see you stroke yourself while I fuck your thighs.”

Jisung’s hand immediately went to his cock, still trapped in his underwear and he started stroking himself through the fabric.

“That’s so hot,” Minho groaned, watching over Jisung’s shoulder as Jisung touched himself. “You watching my cock while you stroke yourself. Fuck, Ji.”

“I can feel you getting harder,” Jisung gasped. “You’re throbbing between my thighs. Are you close?”

“Yeah,” Minho admitted, his thrusts becoming less controlled. “Your thighs feel too good. So soft. So warm. Squeezing me so tight.”

Jisung’s legs started to give out as his orgasm approached but Minho’s arm around his waist held him up. His thighs were trembling violently, barely able to stay pressed together, but Minho’s thick cock kept them from opening, kept them spread just enough around his girth.

“I can’t…I’m..” Jisung’s hand moved frantically over himself, and then he was coming with a broken cry, his whole body shuddering in Minho’s hold. His thighs tried to clench even tighter  and the increased pressure made Minho curse.

“Fuck, Ji, I’m..” Minho thrust even harder, his thick cock pulsing between Jisung’s thighs, painting them with thick ropes of cum. So much of it, coating Jisung’s inner thighs, dripping down onto the fishnets, some of it shooting forward to splatter on the floor in front of them.

Minho held Jisung up as they both trembled through their orgasms, his cock still nestled between Jisung’s thighs, still twitching with aftershocks. Jisung was completely boneless in his arms, his legs barely able to hold his weight.

“I’ve got you,” Minho murmured, slowly pulling back and then carefully turning Jisung around to face him. He helped Jisung sit on the edge of the bed before his legs could give out completely.

Jisung looked down at his thighs which were covered in Minho’s cum, the fishnets completely destroyed, sticky and torn beyond repair. His own underwear was soaked through and he could see the mess on the floor where Minho’s cum had reached.

“You made such a mess of me,” Jisung said, his voice full of wonder rather than complaint. He touched his inner thigh, fingers coming away sticky. “There’s so much.”

“Sorry,” Minho said, but he didn’t sound very sorry.

“Dont be, that was the hottest thing I have ever experienced.”

Minho smiled at that, his hands coming up to settle on Jisung’s shoulders. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up before your date.”

In the bathroom, Minho turned on the shower and helped Jisung out of his ruined clothes. The sweater came off first, revealing the marks Minho had left on Jisung’s chest and shoulders—dark hickeys that would definitely be visible for days. The skirt was next, bunched and wrinkled beyond repair. Finally, the fishnets, which were so torn and sticky they practically fell apart as Jisung peeled them off.

“These are completely destroyed,” Jisung observed, holding up the remnants.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Minho said automatically, then seemed to realize what he’d said. “I mean..for your date..for Jeongin.”

“Right,” Jisung said, something flickering across his face. “For Jeongin.”

They stepped into the shower together and the hot water felt incredible on their oversensitive skin. Minho grabbed the soap and started gently washing Jisung’s back. 

“You know, for someone who insisted this was just educational, you really went all out with the marking,” Jisung said, trying to keep his tone light even though his chest felt tight. “Pretty sure Jeongin’s going to notice these hickeys.”

“You can cover them with makeup,” Minho said, his voice carefully neutral. “Or wear a turtleneck.”

“In this weather?” Jisung turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll look insane.”

“Then tell him you got attacked by a vacuum cleaner.”

Jisung snorted despite himself. “A vacuum cleaner? Really?”

“A very aggressive vacuum cleaner,” Minho said and there was the hint of a smile on his face now. “With attachment issues.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jisung said but he was smiling too.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked me to help you practice sex stuff while wearing a tiny skirt,” Minho pointed out. “So who’s really the ridiculous one here?”

“Still you,” Jisung said, turning back around so Minho could finish washing his back. “I had a legitimate concern. You’re just a horny bastard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“You literally begged me to touch you,” Minho reminded him.

“For educational purposes!”

“Right. Educational. That’s why you said ‘I’m yours’ while I had my hand on your..”

“Okay!” Jisung cut him off, his face burning. “Okay, point taken. We both got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Minho’s hands moved to Jisung’s thighs, washing them carefully and Jisung had to brace himself against the shower wall at the tenderness. 

“Ji, I fucked your thighs until you could barely stand. That’s more than a little carried away.”

“Yeah, well.” Jisung’s voice was softer now. “It was good practice. Very thorough instruction.”

“The most thorough,” Minho agreed but his voice had gone quieter too.

They finished washing in silence, the playful banter fading into something heavier. When they got out, Minho wrapped Jisung in a towel and dried him off carefully, paying special attention to his thighs.

“They’re going to be sore tomorrow,” Minho said quietly.

“Yeah, well.” Jisung shifted, wincing slightly. “Guess the sex part of tonight’s date is off the table. I can barely sit right now.”

Minho’s hands came to a still. “You’re still going?”

“To dinner? Yeah, obviously. I can’t just cancel last minute.” Jisung started to stand, wobbling slightly. “I’ll just… tell him I’m not feeling well if things start heading that direction. Which they probably will since he’s coming over after, but…” He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Right.” Minho’s voice was flat. “Good plan.”

“I mean, that was the whole point of this, right? So I’d be ready for tonight.” Jisung looked at him. “I’m just… not as ready as I thought I’d be. Physically.”

Minho nodded, his face the epitome of understanding. 

“You should probably get going,” Minho said, checking his phone. “Your date’s in forty-five minutes. You’ll need time to get ready.”

“Right.” Jisung hesitated at the door. “Hey, Min?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for… everything. For helping me. I know it was weird but..”

“That’s what friends are for,” Minho said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Right?”

The word ‘friends’ felt like a knife to Jisung’s chest, but he just nodded. “Right. Friends.”

“Have fun. Text me later and let me know how it goes?”

“Yeah. I will.”

Jisung left and as soon as the door closed behind him, Minho slumped against it, running a hand through his hair.

And that was when reality truly crashed back in—that Jisung was about to go do all of this with someone else. That everything they’d just done was supposed to be practice for Jeongin. That Jeongin would see the marks Minho had left, would touch Jisung the way Minho had just touched him.

 Minho stood there, one arm thrown over his eyes, trying to figure out how he was supposed to go back to normal after this.

Because there was no going back. Not after he’d tasted Jisung’s skin, not after he’d felt him come apart in his lap, not after he’d marked him like he had some kind of claim.

He was so fucked.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

~

An hour and a half later, Jisung was sitting across from Jeongin at a nice Italian restaurant, candles flickering between them. He’d gone home, showered again, changed into a fresh outfit—dark jeans and a black turtleneck that covered the hickeys—and applied makeup to hide the one on his neck that the turtleneck couldn’t quite cover.

Jeongin was talking about his day, something about  a difficult client and Jisung was nodding at appropriate intervals.

But all he could think about was Minho.

The way Minho’s hands had felt on his hips. The way Minho’s voice had gone rough when he praised him. The way Minho had held him up when his legs gave out, the way Minho had washed him so carefully afterward. The way Minho had dried him off like he was something precious.

The stupid joke about the vacuum cleaner that had made Jisung laugh even when he wanted to cry.

The way Minho had called him a friend, like nothing had changed between them.

“…and that’s when I told him he was being completely unreasonable. Jisung? You okay?”

Jisung blinked, forcing himself to focus. “What? Yeah, sorry. Just tired.”

Jeongin reached across the table, taking Jisung’s hand. His touch was warm and pleasant. It felt like nothing.

“I’ve been really looking forward to tonight,” Jeongin said, his thumb rubbing circles on Jisung’s palm. “I like you, Jisung. I think we could have something good here.”

Jisung looked at Jeongin. He was objectively attractive,nice and was genuinely interested in him. Everything he should want. Everything he’d thought he wanted when he downloaded that dating app and matched with him.

But all he could think about was Minho’s hands on his thighs, Minho’s voice in his ear, Minho calling him perfect, Minho making him fall apart and then carefully putting him back together.

Minho, who he’d been in love with for years.

Minho, who he’d asked to help him practice for this exact moment.

Minho, who had agreed even though Jisung could see how much it hurt him.

And suddenly, sitting here with Jeongin’s hand in his, Jisung realized he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit here and pretend to be interested in someone else when the only person he wanted was probably sitting alone at home, thinking about how they were just friends.

“I can’t do this,” Jisung said, pulling his hand back.

Jeongin blinked. “What?”

“I’m so sorry. You’re great, you really are, but I…” Jisung stood up abruptly. “There’s someone else. There’s always been someone else and I’ve been an idiot trying to pretend there wasn’t.”

“Oh.” Jeongin sat back, looking more understanding than upset. “The person you were trying to get over?”

“Yeah. Except I realize now that I don’t want to get over them. I want..I need to tell them how I feel.”

“Then go,” Jeongin said with a small smile. “Don’t waste any more time. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“Thank you,” Jisung said. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Don’t be. Good luck.”

Jisung didn’t wait for anything else. He just left, practically running out of the restaurant. He ran down the street, his heart pounding, still wearing the turtleneck that covered Minho’s marks.

He had to see Minho. Had to tell him. Had to know if there was any chance that what happened between them meant something more than just practice.

~

Minho had tried watching TV, tried playing video games, tried doing literally anything to distract himself from thinking about Jisung on a date with someone else.

Nothing worked.

He was sitting on his couch, staring blankly at his phone, when someone started pounding desperately on his door.

He opened it to find Jisung standing there, breathing hard like he’d been running.

“Ji? What??Didn't you have a date?”

“I left,” Jisung said, pushing past him into the apartment.

“You left? Did something happen? Did he do something?”

“No, he was fine.” Jisung turned to face him, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He was perfectly nice. Attractive. Interesting. Everything I should want.”

“Then why..?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your stupid hands,” Jisung said, his voice exasperated. “And your stupid voice. And that stupid joke about the vacuum cleaner. Do you know how insane it is to be on a date with someone and all you can think about is your best friend making dumb jokes in the shower?”

Minho blinked.

“And then Jeongin held my hand,” Jisung continued, pacing now. “And you know what I thought? I thought ‘this feels like nothing.’ Because apparently you’ve ruined me for other people. Great job with the practice session, by the way. Really prepared me well.”

“Ji.”

“I’m not done.” Jisung stopped pacing and looked at him. “I sat there for thirty minutes listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies and all I could think about was how you know I hate olives without me having to say it. How you always save me the last dumpling. How you’ve been putting up with my bullshit since we were six years old.”

Minho’s heart was racing but he kept his voice calm. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m an idiot,” Jisung said. “I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for years and I tried to date someone else to get over you and instead I just made it worse by letting you fuck my thighs.”

Minho choked. “You..what?”

“You heard me.” Jisung crossed his arms. “I’m in love with you. Have been since we were like fourteen. There. I said it. Are you happy now?”

“Am I happy that you’re in love with me?” Minho asked slowly.

“Yes! Are you? Or are you going to be weird about it and ruin our friendship because apparently I can’t have nice things..”

Minho crossed the distance between them and kissed him.

Jisung made a surprised sound, then immediately kissed back, his arms uncrossing to grab Minho’s shirt and pull him closer.

When they broke apart, Jisung was staring at him with wide eyes. “What..”

“I’ve been in love with you for so long.” Minho said. “Why do you think I agreed to your insane plan?”

“Because you’re a good friend?” Jisung said weakly.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot who couldn’t say no to you,” Minho corrected. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to touch you like that knowing you were going to go do it with someone else?”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Why didn’t YOU say anything?!”

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Jisung started laughing. “We’re so stupid.”

“The stupidest,” Minho agreed and kissed him again.

Jisung’s hands slid into Minho’s hair and Minho’s hands found their way under Jisung’s turtleneck, needing to feel skin again.

“Bedroom,” Jisung gasped against his mouth. “Now.”

“Your thighs..”

“My thighs are fine, shut up and take me to bed.”

Minho didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled Jisung towards the bedroom, both of them stumbling and kissing, unable to keep their hands off each other. They barely made it through the door before Jisung was pulling at Minho’s shirt.

“Off,” Jisung demanded.

“Bossy,” Minho said but he pulled his shirt off and then immediately went for Jisung’s turtleneck.

“Wait, careful.” Jisung tried to say, but Minho had already pulled it over his head.

The hickeys from earlier were dark purple now, covering Jisung’s neck down to his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “I marked you up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I’m keeping them,” Jisung said, pulling Minho closer. “So everyone knows I’m taken.”

Minho groaned and walked them backward until Jisung’s legs hit the bed. Jisung fell back, pulling Minho with him.

“These jeans need to come off,” Minho said, already working on the button.

“Yours too,” Jisung said, his hands going for Minho’s sweatpants.

They struggled out of their pants, the movement clumsy and graceless, Jisung kicking his jeans off and nearly hitting Minho in the face.

“Ow! Watch it..”

“Sorry! They’re tight, okay?”

“I noticed,” Minho said, his eyes dragging over Jisung’s body appreciatively. “Believe me, I noticed.”

“Stop staring and get up here.”

Minho climbed over him, settling between his legs and they both groaned when their bodies aligned. Even through their underwear, the friction was intense.

“Fuck,” Jisung gasped. “I can feel..you’re still so big..”

“You’re going to give me a complex about my dick if you keep bringing it up.”

“Good! You should know what you’re working with!”

“I’m very aware, thanks..”

Jisung kissed him to shut him up and Minho grinded down, making them both moan. Jisung’s legs came up to wrap around Minho’s waist and he was already so sensitive from earlier that every touch felt electric.

“Min,” Jisung gasped, his hips rolling up. “I need..”

“What do you need?” Minho asked, his voice rough.

“I want..” Jisung’s face flushed.

“I’m waiting.” Minho tucked a strand of hair behind Jisung’s ear.

“Don’t do that..don’t be all gentle.”

“Oh, so you want me to be rough?” Minho raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

“No! I mean…” Jisung let out a frustrated whine. “Stop making me think.”

“I’m literally just asking what you want.”

“You know what I want!”

“Do I?” Minho’s expression was infuriatingly innocent. “I’m not a mind reader, baby.”

“I hate that you’re making sense right now,” Jisung muttered.

“So tell me.” Minho’s voice dropped lower.“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes..”

Minho pulled back slightly, his expression serious. “Are you sure? We just confessed like five minutes ago. We don’t have to rush..”

“Min, I’ve been waiting for years..”

“Yeah, exactly. So we can wait a little longer. Do this right..”

“What’s more right than right now?” Jisung argued, pulling him back down. “We’re both here, we both want it.”

“Your thighs are still sore from earlier..”

“I don’t care about my thighs!”

“Well I do! I don’t want to hurt you..”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Ji, you literally could barely walk..”

“That was my thighs, not my ass..”

 Minho couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? It’s true!” Jisung said defensively. “Different muscle groups!”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

“Well if you would just fuck me, we wouldn’t have to..”

“Wait.” Minho paused, his expression suddenly stricken. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I don’t have supplies.”

Jisung blinked. “What do you mean you don’t have supplies?”

“I mean I don’t have lube. Or condoms. I ran out last month and never bought more because I wasn’t exactly expecting to need them..”

“You don’t have condoms?” Jisung’s voice went up an octave. “You’re a twenty-three-year old man  and you don’t have condoms?”

“I haven’t needed them! I haven’t been with anyone in months!”

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t ‘oh my god’ me, it’s not like you came here prepared..”

“Because I didn’t know I was going to ditch my date and confess my feelings to you!”

“Well I didn’t know you were going to show up and demand I fuck you!”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“This is pathetic,” Jisung said finally.

“Completely pathetic,” Minho agreed.

“We finally confess our feelings and we can’t even have sex properly.”

“To be fair, we already kind of had sex. The thigh thing was definitely sex.”

“That was practice sex,” Jisung said. “I want real sex.”

“Oh, so now it was practice? I thought you said earlier it wasn’t practice..”

“I’m changing my stance based on current circumstances.”

“You can’t just retroactively decide something was practice..”

“Watch me!”

Minho flopped down beside Jisung on the bed, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“So what do we do now?” Jisung asked after a moment.

“We could… make out?” Minho suggested. 

They lay there in silence for another moment.

“I could go to the store,” Minho offered.

“And leave me here all worked up by myself?”

“You could come with me..”

“And do a walk of shame to buy lube and condoms with my boyfriend of ten minutes?”

“I mean, when you put it that way…”

 Jisung leaned over to kiss him softly. “Okay, so we go to the store, we buy supplies like responsible adults..”

“We’ve never been responsible adults.”

“..and then we come back here and do this properly.”

“Deal,” Minho said, kissing him again. “But you need to borrow a hoodie or something. The cashier is going to take one look at your hickeys and know exactly what we’re buying the lube for.”

“I’m literally shirtless right now, obviously I’m going to wear something..”

“I’m just saying, maybe a hoodie with a high collar?”

“Oh my god, are you embarrassed?”

“No! I just don’t want some random store clerk seeing my marks all over you..”

“Possessive much?”

“Yes, actually,” Minho said, pulling him closer. “Very possessive. You’re mine now.”

“We’ve been together for like ten minutes..”

“Well, we’ve been married in my head for years so I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Jisung rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Fine. I’ll wear your giant hoodie. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Can we go now before I lose my nerve about doing a condom run with my brand new boyfriend?”

“Our first outing as a couple,” Minho said dramatically. “How romantic.”

“Shut up and find me that hoodie.”

And as they got dressed, still bickering and laughing, both of them knew that this was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Because they were best friends first.

And everything else would figure itself out eventually.