Window to freedom °•Minsung•°

12)

Had Jisung always been attractive?

Minho swinged another alcoholic drink into his throat, his head already spinning as he kept his stare fixed onto his assistant.

His thoughts swimmed, lost in all the alcohol, mixing the sadness with a certain warmth that was starting to fill him.

Seungmin had instantly clocked his bad mood.

"Come on, spill before you ruin both our evenings"

Straight to the point. That was kind of one of the reasons Minho got along with him so well: he didn't like beating around the bush.

"Argued with Yoon" he groaned.

It wasn't exactly accurate but it was all Minho was willing to offer at the moment.

Seungmin managed to keep a straight face but Minho couldn't help but notice a sparkle of surprise in his eyes. It made sense...after all, Min and Yoon had never argued before. They never did. They were the perfect couple.

Or so Minho had thought.

"What did you do?" Seungmin asked then.

"Wh- why are you assuming it's my fault!?" Minho exclaimed, feeling attacked.

"Well isn't it?" Seungmin retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck"

Minho just scratched his nape and made a vague gesture.

"I hope you'll apologise, whatever you did" Seungmin continued:
"Yoona is a lovely woman and I'm not letting you hurt her, ok?"

"Right" he sighed.

Seungmin was right. He was being a heartless asshole and his fiancee didn't deserve it.

"They're just words Minho, fucking say them next time"

he reprimanded himself.

Stomach lurching with guilt he had instantly thrown himself into alchohol. Awful idea, he was aware but this once he really, really needed it.

And now he was pleasantly drunk, staring at his assistant. Oh how the tables had turned.

Jisung was swaying to the music next to a freckly blonde boy and a taller one with dark hair, a small smile decorating his lips. Without his job's obbligation to look somewhat presentable, he had let his style shine completely: he had worn a short black crop top that showed more than what it hid and his eyes were lined with a messy smudge of dark pencil.

Minho's eyes lingered on his waistline, so small compared to his wider shoulders. Minho had a feeling that if he were to try and cup his waist with his hands, the tips of fingers would touch. Cup his waist with his...

Minho imagined tracing the sharp bones that just barely stuck out of the assistant's pants and shivered.

Right then Jisung swayed his hips around and smiled a flirty grin to the guy he was dancing with, breaking out in a laugh a second later. Minho found himself smiling too.

He then sighed in envy... how he wished he could be that guy...

He understood it all now: the students oogling at Jisung, the way girls batted their lashes at him while asking for clarifications... He was actually baffled he had never noticed how pretty his assistant was.
How...well...hot.

Minho barely realised the thought, alcohol still smushing his awareness in unknown corners of his brain.
He was just happy to be drunk and witnessing such an amazing view.

That second, Jisung left his companions with a bemused smile and walked to the bar, where Minho had planted himself, draining drink after drink.

"Mr Lee!" he exclaimed, trying to contrast the music:
"Having fun?"

"You're beautiful" Minho blurted out, uncapable of tearing his eyes off of Jisung.

The boy's smile faded and surprise flickered on his face, followed by a grimace:
"And you're drunk" he stated blankly.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate beauty..." Minho mumbled.

Their eyes met for a second and the professor ached so hard with desire that for a second he thought he'd lose control. Everything in him was willing to touch Jisung's naked skin, pull him closer, taste the crook of his neck... He knew he couldn't lie to him in that state....he knew Jisung could see it all on his face... he was open, open to anything...

"I think you should drink some water and go home, Mr Lee" Jisung said with a controlled, careful voice.

"Mhm" Minho hummed, anything for him:
"Will you make sure I get there safely?"

Jisung avoided his gaze, clearly conflicted, thoughts at war behind his eyes:

"Mr Lee..." he sighed:
"I don't think it's a great idea...I-"

"Please..." Minho begged in his mind. He needed him, so so bad.

"I'll go get Mr Kim" said Jisung and left him there, with a final apologetic look.

Minho suddenly felt hollow. Without him, the sadness and anger and guilt came flooding back in and the air was punched out of Minho's lungs.

"What the hell is fucking wrong with me!" screamed a singer from the speakers.

Minho couldn't have related more.

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Im rewatching a "The last of us" gameplay and I just love that game so much that I think the next fic I write will be a zombie apocalypse one- just warning yall

well- after I finish this monster of a fic, ofc