Kept

No Such Thing as Secrets

Minho POV

"Could you stay, just a little longer?" Jisung asked, his eyes two massive black orbs looming up at me, expectant.

"Isn't guard shift changing?" I asked. "You made me promise to be careful. And if I don't leave now- I will miss my chance."

"Then you can stay until next shift change." He smiled, biting his lower lip cutely. His hand trailed over my chest, his long, soft hair tickling my arm under his head.

"You." I sighed lightly, planting a kiss on his messy mop of hair. "Are incredible." I complimented him. "If I stay, I'm going to have to touch you more. I fear my hands have developed a mind of their own..." I flirted, raising my left hand up, making a claw which descended onto him quickly- tickling him, his body bowing and writhing as he fought the attack, delighting in his cute giggles. I traced his ribs, lightening my touch to caresses over them and down his sides, lower until my fingers were at the waistband of his boxers, worrying at the fabric with my fingers.

"Minho..." he whined, his eyes closing. I shifted, hovering over him, and as I looked down at him I was struck with the utter perfection of his face. He was beautiful in daily life, but with his hair tousled by my hands, his mouth swollen from my kisses- those round cheeks flush with want- want for me... he was the pinnacle of perfection.

"Shh, love." I cooed, lowering my mouth to his, catching his low moans with my mouth, swallowing the sound- swirling it with the decadent synesthesia feast in my mind. His mouth fit with mine as though he was made specifically to kiss my lips, and I his. My tongue met his- still timid and unsure and he melted against me, pulling lower, pressing our bodies together fully.

"I- I need your hands... please..." He mumbled, parting his mouth from mine just enough to talk." Touch me please." He sighed. His mouth sought mine again, more eager this time, bolstered by his own words.

My hand found his thigh, helping bend his leg at the knee. My palm ran over his flawless bronze skin down the meat of his thigh to his groin. I palmed his heat through the fabric of his boxers and when he moaned for me I lost it, grinding my length against the hollow where his pelvis married his thigh- desperate to sink into his warmth. "Gods, Jisung... please." I pleaded.

"We- we can't Minho..." he grumbled. "This is a dream."

I shook my head, my mouth locking over the crook of his neck. "Not a dream. Too good to be a dream." I murmured as my mouth sucked a deep red mark on his skin.

"Oh, but it is, I don't want you to take me the first time in a dream..." he gasped, his hands in my hair, keeping my mouth against my skin. "Oh, yes...Minho." He moaned as my hand gripped him through his boxers, the fabric so thin and silky it felt as though his actual dick was in my hand.

"Queenie, please, make a pretty mess for me, beautiful." I groaned, grinding against him more, my cock aching and dripping precum in my boxers steadily.

He rocked his hips upward, his clothed cock in my hand, crying out as he fucked my fist, rutting desperately against my touch with need. "Oh, gods, yes." He gasped, his eyes wild as he climbed closer to completion. Moments later, I felt as his dick emptied in his boxers, pulsing relentlessly until his body shuddered and then went limp, sated from his orgasm. His aromatic aura filled the air around us, a commonality when the pleasure chemicals burst to life.

"That's it, beautiful. So good for me." I praised, pressing a soft kiss on his temple, brushing his hair away from his forehead as my sense feasted on the flavor his body released in the space between us.