just pretend.

38.

Minho woke up next to Seungmin, in the same position they’d fallen asleep in; exposed, tangled together beneath the sheets, devoid of the storm of emotions that had plagued him the days before. Last night had been a release, a way to fuck out every ounce of frustration, worry, and helplessness he had felt. The act had cleared his mind, if only for a while, leaving him feeling lighter, more aware of himself. Jisung was gone, maybe forever. And if he ever did come back, Minho was ready to scold him senseless, to demand answers. But for now, he felt calmer, his thoughts not as heavy, more centered. “Do you want breakfast?”, Seungmin mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, lips brushing lazily against Minho’s neck. The soft graze sent a pleasant shiver down Minho’s body. He let out a faint smile, warmth spreading through him as his fingers traced the lines of Seungmin’s bare chest. His hand moved with intent, gliding beneath the blanket, over the soft skin of Seungmin’s belly, along his hips, and finally between his thighs. Seungmin’s breath hitched, his body responding instantly to Minho’s touch, his cock stiffening under the attention. “You still don’t have enough after last night?”, Seungmin teased, his voice low, tinged with amusement. Minho responded by wrapping his hand around Seungmin’s growing erection, applying just enough pressure to draw a sharp inhale from him, almost a hiss. “You know me better than that”, Minho whispered, his voice husky, barely above a murmur. His grip tightened ever so slightly, feeling Seungmin tremble beneath his touch, the shiver of anticipation palpable. Minho wanted more – needed more. His desire was raw, unfiltered, a desperate craving for Seungmin to take control, to pin him down and fuck him until there was nothing left but pleasure. As if reading his thoughts, Seungmin sat up abruptly, pushing Minho flat against the bed, pinning him into the sheets with a sudden, dominant force. Minho let out a breathless giggle, not even attempting to resist. His body responded immediately, his own erection swelling as Seungmin’s hardness brushed teasingly against him, sending shocks of electric heat through his core. Seungmin hovered over him, their lips just inches apart, the tension between them thick and buzzing. “How do you want it?”, Seungmin asked, his voice deep, but Minho could tell from the look in his eyes that Seungmin already had an idea of what he planned to do – of exactly how he was going to wreck him. Minho smiled, a sweet, knowing smile, already surrendering to whatever Seungmin had in store for him. He didn’t need to say it. Seungmin’s hand slid up Minho’s chest, stopping just below his throat. His fingers wrapped around Minho’s neck with ease, applying just enough pressure to make Minho’s pulse quicken. The faint squeeze of Seungmin’s hand cut off some of his air, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave him gasping, every nerve in his body coming alive under Seungmin’s control. “Answer me”, Seungmin demanded, his grip firm, his eyes boring into Minho’s with a look that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through him. The intensity in Seungmin’s gaze, the way he took full control – it made Minho’s head spin, made him feel dizzy with anticipation, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “Rough”, Minho choked out between soft, needy whimpers, his voice cracking with desperation. His cheeks flushed a dark pink, the heat rising through his body as Seungmin’s dominance overwhelmed him. No matter how many times they did this, Seungmin always managed to fluster him, just like he had from the very first moment they’d met. Seungmin’s smirk widened, clearly pleased with Minho’s response. His fingers tightened around Minho’s throat just a little more before releasing him, allowing Minho to breathe fully again. Seungmin’s hand trailed down Minho’s body, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles, the touch light but deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Good boy”, Seungmin muttered, his voice filled with approval, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through Minho’s veins. He knew what was coming, knew Seungmin was about to give him exactly what he craved, and he was ready to take it all.

Seungmin wasted no time preparing him, his fingers working Minho open with rough, deliberate motions that were nowhere near gentle. He stretched Minho out with an almost clinical precision, intentionally avoiding his prostate in a way that was both maddening and teasing. Each touch left Minho aching for more, his body tensing with excitement, the growing frustration only amplifying his desire. Seungmin’s hands were firm and unyielding as he guided Minho onto his knees, pressing his upper body into the cool fabric of the sheets. The position felt familiar, the memories of past encounters flooding back to him, heightening the tension coiling tightly in his stomach. Seungmin’s finger traced a slow, teasing line down his spine, sending a shiver through Minho’s body, the touch almost too gentle given what was about to happen. “Just say a word, and I’ll stop”, Seungmin mumbled softly, his voice low but laced with an edge of concern that made Minho’s heart pound even harder. It was a warning, a promise that things were about to get rough, and Minho swallowed hard, nerves creeping in despite his hunger for it. He knew Seungmin could be rough – had felt the strength of his dominance often enough – but this was different. There was an intensity, something in Seungmin’s tone that made him realize just how far this could go. Minho nodded, biting his lip, his body taut with both fear and longing as he felt Seungmin’s leaking cock brush against his rim. His breath hitched in his throat as he braced himself, fingers digging into the soft fabric beneath him. He barely had time to prepare before Seungmin thrust his entire length into him in one fluid motion, the sudden fullness making Minho’s legs tremble and his breath stutter in his throat. The force of it left him momentarily breathless, his mind scrambling to catch up with the sudden sensation. A loud groan tore from his chest, his body instinctively clenching around Seungmin’s cock, tightening with the overwhelming pressure and pleasure. Seungmin’s tip hammered into his prostate with relentless accuracy, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through him that made his head spin. “You good?”, Seungmin asked, his voice breathless but steady, and Minho could only nod weakly in response, his face buried in the sheets as he struggled to hold on. His fingers dug deeper into the fabric, anchoring himself against the unrelenting force of Seungmin’s thrusts. Seungmin’s hands gripped his waist firmly, holding him in place, and then he pulled out halfway, only to slam back in with a force that left Minho gasping. Each thrust was harder than the last, Seungmin’s rhythm slow but powerful, each movement designed to drive Minho further to the edge. Minho’s mouth fell open, but all that escaped was a breathless gasp, his voice lost to the intensity of the moment. His hips pushed back instinctively, seeking more, wanting to take everything Seungmin had to give. The pleasure was almost too much, too consuming, his body quivering with each impact, his own cock leaking precum onto the sheets beneath him. The pressure built inside him, mounting with every thrust, his mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation. His moans grew more desperate, but they were muffled by the pillow as he buried his face into the soft fabric, trying to ground himself. Seungmin’s thrusts grew faster, more erratic, each one hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Minho’s entire body trembled, the raw intensity of it almost too much to handle, but he didn’t want it to stop – he needed more. “Rough enough?”, Seungmin’s voice was low, teasing, but the challenge in it was clear. Minho couldn’t respond with words; all that slipped from his parted lips was a broken, defeated whine, his body betraying how much he wanted this, how much he craved the rough treatment. His chest heaved, tasting the salty tang of his own tears as they slipped down his cheeks, a mixture of pleasure, frustration, and emotional release washing over him. Seungmin’s right hand brushed up Minho’s spine, a soft, almost comforting gesture amidst the rough rhythm of his thrusts. It was a silent reassurance, a reminder that despite the roughness, Seungmin was still there, in control, watching him closely. The tender touch contrasted sharply with the raw intensity of Seungmin pounding into him faster, the force shaking Minho to his core. Minho’s world narrowed down to the feeling of Seungmin inside him, the way his body was pushed to its limits, every nerve on fire, every breath a desperate gasp. He was on the edge, and he didn’t care if he fell over.