𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖩𝖤𝖢𝖳; 𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖸𝖪𝖨𝖣𝖲

- 01 -

𝐵𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹
ᵐⁱⁿˢᵘⁿᵍ

warnings! smut!

-  Tipsy/Drunk driving (don't do that, its not legal or safe)
- Hate-sex, Drunk, Car sex, blowjob, Nipple play, Makeout, Degrading *slightly*
- Relationship status: School rivals/enemies

ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁻  26.06.2024

3319 words

» taste (lee know, hyunjin, felix) «
ˢᵗʳᵃʸᵏⁱᵈˢ
0:36 ─〇───── 3:37
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

The dimly lit bar hummed with the low murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses, a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from the chaos of Seoul's bustling streets. Jisung sat alone at the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey with the weariness of someone who had just survived the onslaught of final exams. His tousled hair and slightly disheveled appearance contrasted with the bar's loud ambiance, but he paid little attention to it.

Across the room, Lee Minho made a grand entrance that turned heads effortlessly. With a confidence that bordered on arrogance, he maneuvered through the crowd like he owned the place, a drink already in hand. The brunette's eyes scanned the room, his gaze stopping momentarily on the shorter male. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a hint of curiosity mingled with something deeper, something unreadable.

Jisung noticed his approach but chose to focus on his drink, hoping to avoid any unnecessary interactions. Minho, however, had other plans. He slid onto the barstool next to the other with a smoothness that belied his slightly tipsy state.

"Jisung," he drawled, his voice carrying an edge of amusement, "The elusive genius finally graces us with his presence."

The younger glanced up, meeting Minho's mocking smirk with an arched eyebrow. "Minho," he replied coolly, "I didn't know the top student had time for bars. Shouldn't you be buried in textbooks somewhere?"

Minho chuckled, unfazed by Jisung's sarcasm. "Oh, I make time for the finer things in life," he retorted, taking a sip of his drink. "Unlike some people who seem to only surface when they're drowning in booze."

Jisung felt a familiar surge of irritation at Minho's words, the perpetual thorn in his side. "At least I don't have a stick up my ass 24/7," he shot back, his tone sharper now. "What are you doing here anyway? Checking up on your competition?"

Minho leaned closer, his smirk widening. "Hardly. I was just curious how someone as... exceptional as you manages to unwind. Seems like you're not doing a great job, though. Or are you just trying to forget how I beat you in every single subject this semester?"

"You know, you really are full of yourself," Jisung said, his voice softer, almost thoughtful. "Always so sure you're better than everyone else. Doesn't it get tiring?"

Minho's eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something more intense. "Not as tiring as constantly playing catch-up," he retorted, but there was a slight hitch in his voice, a crack in his façade. "How is it sung to always be behind someone in everything-"

Normally, Jisung would have fired back with a biting remark again, but tonight, exhaustion mingled with the alcohol in his veins softened his sharp edges. He found himself strangely amused by Minho's banter, his mind drifting as he studied the way the dim lights played off his features—the curve of his eyebrows, the glint in his eyes.