cherry club 🍒 minsung

two

[ orange burst ]

Jisung woke up far too early for a weekend. In his haste to remove Minho's clothes, he had forgotten to turn off his 6 am alarm. So there he sat, Hyunjin-sized coffee cup in his hands and eyes droopy from how little he slept. Jisung was usually against any drinks on his bed, having learned from one too many spilled hot chocolates and energy drinks. He could barely see the newest chocolate stain under Minho's lax body, and he mentally noted to switch out his sheets. God, he hoped Minho hadn't noticed the scattered chip wrappers and dirty clothes thrown across his spacious bedroom. Despite only knowing him for a night, Jisung could tell Minho was the clean type, somewhere between Jisung's messy and Chan's neat-freak. 

A quick google search told Jisung that the sun wasn't set to fully rise for another thirty minutes, but he thought the gentle rays of shy sunshine slipping through his cracked blinds made Minho's skin glow. He looked something akin to an angel in Jisung's old white tee, with his body covered in shimmery glitter. The temptation to reach out and touch the small specs that littered Minho's toned legs was poking at the back of his head like a knife, and with cautious fingers, he reached. He barely grazed the slope of Minho's knee before the dancer was grumbling awake, hands swatting at the ticklish feeling he hadn't yet registered as Jisung.

"Good morning, sunshine. Aren't you just the prettiest thing to wake up too?" Jisung chuckled, flicking away Minho's ruffled hair to meet his sleepy eyes. The sunlight made them twinkle in a way that screamed innocence, and the contrast between daytime Minho and nighttime Minho made his heart heavy. He couldn't imagine what horrible men Minho encountered during his job. His feelings were heightened when Minho shot up, throwing the covers from his body and staggering to his feet. He muttered curses as he tried to distinguish his clothes from Jisung's mess, and Jisung took the opportunity to pull him closer. 

"Woah, calm down there, tiger. Where do you think you're going at six in the morning?" 

Minho's tense shoulders softened in his hold, a deep sigh racking his shaken form. "I had a good time last night, I really did. But I'm supposed to be gone, Sungie. I've had too many angry wives curse me out, which is dumb, because I'm single and their husbands were not," Minho grumbled as he remembered some of his encounters with hurt women and stiletoes. "I need to go." 

Jisung tutted and tightened his grip on Minho's waist. "You're not going anywhere until you get every teeny tiny spec of glitter off you." Minho, for the first time that morning, seemed to realize his less-than-attractive appearance and grimaced at the rough texture of glitter on his legs. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and completely caved into Jisung's request when his hand came back with a dark combination of caking mascara and eyeliner. "I'll take that as a very happy yes." Jisung smiled, tossing a towel in Minho's direction. "I have clothes if you need some, but I didn't want to dig around in your bag last night, so sorry about the-" Jisung waved a hand at the tattered clothes the dancer was wearing. "You know."

"Sungie, I can't thank you enough." Minho pulled at the torn strings hanging from the blue-stained towel, courteousy of Jisung's love for spontaneous hair colors. 

"Actually, you can. Come with me on one date, just one. And if you absolutely hate it, I'll leave you alone." 

Minho reeled at the offer, dropping the towel and blushing a beautiful cherry red. He was used to date offers, the usual cheesy confessions, thousands of compliments from his clients, but never had he been asked on a date by someone he slept with first. Minho was nothing more than a good fuck to the men at the club, and they certainly didn't want to take him out in public. Minho was everyone's dirty little secret, and his insecurities began to speak for him until he caught Jisung's curious gaze. Jisung, he reminded himself, was not an older man with too much cash and an annoying wife. Jisung was sincere, gentle, charming in his own boyish way.