CHAEBEOL | minsung

ten

ੈ♡˳

Jisung thanked his driver for dropping him off, reassured him that he would be fine after seeing the way the man glanced uncomfortably around the neighbourhood they were in.

The weekend was coming to a close. As it always seemed to, it had gone by in the blink of an eye. Jisung had spent it with his family. This never put him in a good mood. 

So he sought relief.

Minho, on the other hand, seemed anything but relieved when he opened the door to an unexpected visitor.

"What are you doing here?"

Jisung didn't even grace him with an answer. He practically shoved Minho out of the way as he strutted into the house, paused when met with the smell of something cooking - something delicious.

"Hey- You can't just walk into my house whenever you please!" Minho had followed the younger in, letting the door slam closed behind him. He glared at Jisung with his arms folded defensively over his chest.

"I can do what I want. What are you cooking?" Jisung breezed easily.

He was wandering aimlessly in the living room where they'd been last time, one finger reaching out to sweep along the cabinet that the TV stood on and collecting a surprisingly small amount of dust. 

"Leave. Now." Minho was seething.

"And if I don't?" asked Jisung with an exaggerated pout. 

Minho didn't answer, not at first. He just stared at Jisung as his eyes narrowed into slits and his hands clenched slightly. The younger wasn't looking, knowing fine well what he would see if he did. 

"Want me to tell everyone at school you're a slut for pain and men?" Minho hissed through gritted teeth.

Jisung shrugged. "Who would believe you?"

An exasperated grunt forced its way from Minho's mouth, and the older threw his hands up in disbelief. Before he could argue, he'd already turned his back on the younger, stalked into the kitchen with a tension growing in between his shoulders.

He knew Jisung would follow him, but he still wasn't happy about it.

"I was hoping we could- woah, what is that? It smells insane." Jisung's words had been cut off by the smell of the food hitting him in the face.

"Meat." As he spoke, Minho switched off the stove, tilted the pan so a glorious amount of well-cooked meat fell into a bowl.

Jisung's mouth was watering as instinct drew him closer. Without thinking, he reached out to take a piece.

The slap against his hand from Minho made him yelp and draw his hand away, and a childish pout turned down already boyish features. 

"Not sharing?" Jisung sulked.

"Not with you," shot back Minho. 

The older was already on his way back out of the kitchen when a tug on the back of the hoodie he wore stopped him. Minho tried to collect his growing irritation before he turned to face Jisung, feeling his clothes snag against the still firm grasp of the younger.

"What are you doing?" Minho asked darkly.

"What are you doing?" Something dark had settled in Jisung's eyes, and his words were cold. "You got me all hot and bothered today, tell me to come to you in private, and then act like this?"

"Oh, sweetie," Minho mocked. "What a shame."

Jisung's grip tightened on the hoodie. Minho's eyes flicked over to the veins starting to bulge from otherwise slim hands.