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Minho awoke to the semi-darkness of Felix's house, bathed in a dim sunset, his body curled up on the couch, legs tucked into his bare chest. The sensation he was feeling was almost a hangover type state, his mind ached to catch up with his body, trying to grasp at an understanding of what had happened before he fell asleep. He raked his fingernails through his hair, catching on the matted strands, which were more tangled than normal.

Then, in a stupor of emotions, it hit him like a semi truck.

Fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Fuck!" He finally cursed out loud, fingers digging into his scalp, sitting fully up, only to be met with a pair of eyes from inside the kitchen. Felix's gaze met his, widened in surprise. Minho only blinked back at him, before the boy began to make his way over.

He remembered everything, to his – What he assumed as – dislike. He remembered eating the cookie, he remembered the warm feeling in his chest, he remembered sucking Jisung's dick, he remembered the feeling of having the boy flush against his chest, breathing concurrently–

His thoughts were interrupted by a confused looking Felix, who peered down at him from behind the couch, an eyebrow raised. "Everything good?" The boy asked, his head tilting slightly to the side.

Minho could only muster up a nod in response, which must've been enough for Felix, because he began walking back to the kitchen. Groaning softly, Minho shrunk back down on the couch, resting his head on one of the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it would erase everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

It did not.

With a long sigh, he accepted his fate, Minho would forever be embarrassed, forever be humiliated by the fact that he acted like that around Jisung, so needy, as if he really wanted it.

Really, it had only been whatever Felix had put in the cookies, both him and Jisung were affected by it. It was simply a primal reaction, latching onto the nearest body and giving into the hopeless desire, there was nothing more.

Then why did Minho feel so fucking ashamed about it?

It's not like he remembered the feeling he experienced, just the fact that he did it, the fact that he gave himself up like that. Minho bit down on his lip hard, deep in thought.

Yes, it had been his plan to seduce Jisung, but that was definitely not how he imagined it to go down. Where the fuck would he even go from here?

Doubtful that he would even be able to look Jisung in the eyes from now on, he simply hoped that Jisung would never emerge from his room.

Maybe he was embarrassed too.

Or maybe he didn't remember.

Minho hoped for the latter, at least then he would get a clean slate, be able to start from square one. But part of him knew that Jisung would remember at least some of it, even if it was just a split second.

Minho peeled his eyes open after feeling a twinge of pain from squeezing them shut too hard, blinking away the white shapes that were dancing behind his eyelids as he stared up at the ceiling, contemplating his next move.

If he really wanted to seduce Jisung, maybe this was just a step in the right direction, a way to prove to him that Minho could do it just like any other girl, or maybe even better.

Part of him doubted that last thought, but it did help his crumbling ego only slightly.

He just had to act confident, possibly pretend that he didn't remember, not that Jisung would bring it up anyways. Minho bit his nail subconsciously, deep in thought. Minho could just continue with what he was doing before, slight touches, showing a bit of skin, etcetera, but that wasn't really getting him anywhere.

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