Hold my hand, youth.

"A bingo heist?" Minho's elbow smashed against porcelain, pain blooming up his arm. He barely noticed, too focused on the way Jisung's eyes danced with barely contained laughter. "A fucking BINGO HEIST? What's next on your criminal bucket list-knocking over the church bake sale? Stealing candy from babies?"

"Would it help if I said you're really hot when you're angry?" Jisung managed to get one leg up on the toilet lid, using it as leverage to try and wiggle free. The porcelain creaked. "Also, your hair is doing this really cute thing right now-kind of like a wet angry kitten? And those designer jeans are clinging in ways that should be illegal."

Minho lunged forward with a growl worthy of said kitten, slipping on the wet floor as Jisung ducked under his arm. "I swear to God!"

"Can we maybe discuss this when there isn't a knife-wielding maniac after us?" Jisung called from his throne atop the paper towel dispenser, leg swinging lazily. Soap had plastered his hair to his forehead in artistic swoops, and his chest rose and fell beneath his clinging shirt. "I'll treat you to bubble tea-you seem like a taro milk foam, extra pearls kind of guy. Or is that too presumptuous while you're plotting my murder?."