Han Jisung, a struggling music producer, is completely smitten by a handsome, cold bar back by the name of Lee Minho. He hates the way Minho makes him feel, and after learning about Minho's past, Jisung wants to hate him even more, but can't help ho...
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Minho's hands release from Jisung's hold on them, moving slowly down to his waist and resting there, squeezing the flesh on contact as Jisung looks into him. Minho isn't sure what to say, let alone what to do, mind hazy and confused after listening to the younger bleed a confession of wanting to kiss him too.
"Minho," Jisung's voice is soft, eyes warm, hands reaching to rest on the back of Minho's neck, brushing past the edges of his hairline tenderly. "Please."
"But I don't want you to hate me tomorrow," Minho says in a near mumble. Jisung shakes his head, hands timidly pressing into the back of Minho's neck.
"I won't. I promise you I won't." Minho leans closer, lips hovering just over Jisung's, breath warm against his opening lips. Jisung is greedy, nearly unable to withstand the distance as he presses his lips into Minho's, hands holding him closely, fingers stroking the elder's skin carefully.
Minho parts from Jisung with a breath, almost ready to lean away before Jisung pulls him back in, slotting their lips together feverishly. Minho pulls Jisung's waist closer, waists pressed together with little room to breathe.
"Please do not have sex on my couch." Chris says tiredly, standing in the middle of the walkway, bare chested with his hair wet. Both males break apart, Jisung sliding off of Minho's lap slowly with his cheeks flushed, thankful that it was just Chris that came into the living space to see their shared moment.
"We weren't going to." Minho breathes, chest slightly heaving from their heated kiss.
"Right. . .it's late. You two should go upstairs." Chris turns on his heel, heading into the kitchen and moving towards the fridge, grabbing a water pitcher from one of the shelves.
"We should." Minho looks at Jisung then back at Chris, sighing when he moves to grab his phone off of the floor. Jisung doesn't say anything and instead reaches to grab the pillow he tossed onto the floor, placing it back to its desired place on the sofa. "You coming with me?"
"Yeah." Jisung hums, rising from the couch, waiting for Minho to stand also.
"Channie?" Minho asks softly, pressing a few buttons on the remote before the television shuts off, placing the device back down on the couch so it was easily found the next morning.
"What Minho?"
"What's on the agenda tomorrow?"
"Uh, nothing really. Whatever we want." Chris eyes him curiously. "Why?"
"Just wondering is all. We'll see you in the morning."
Chris sets down a glass he had gotten between Minho and Jisung's shuffling on the couch, finally pouring himself a glass of water that he begins to chug sleepily. Chris hums just so Minho knows that he was listening, setting the glass down once the water was gone.
