fic: crawling into bed with me [block b; zbomb; nc-17]
crawling into bed with me
block b; zbomb; nc-17; 2800
minhyuk's been waking up to a not completely unwelcome suprise in his bed lately.
crawling into bed with me
The first time it happens, Minhyuk isn’t even sure how it happened. All he knows is that he has a bundle full of Woo Jiho draped over his body. He lies under his dongsaeng, briefly thanking God that at least Jiho’s gotten rid of his dreads because they would have been terribly itchy.
He waits for a good five minutes, hoping that Jiho will perhaps shift over to his own bed since Minhyuk does think a bed is more comfortable than his own body, before nudging him.
Nothing.
Perhaps he was being too gentle, Minhyuk thinks, so he nudges a bit harder. This earns him a strange groan like noise and Jiho, somehow, manages to dig himself into Minhyuk just a little bit more.
Minhyuk sighs, rubbing his eyes with his only free hand, the other trapped under Jiho’s abdomen.
“Jiho,” Minhyuk says, “You need to get off of me.”
He gets another groan, followed by a, “Five more minutes, mum.”
“I’m not your mother,” Minhyuk grumbles, shaking Jiho roughly. He knows Jiho’s tired, after all it’s not like the boy sleeps if it means he can camp out in his studio forever but he’s just slightly - really - heavy and Minhyuk thinks his lungs are going to give out soon.
Minhyuk struggles to find his phone, his arm twisting uncomfortably as he swipes for it under his pillow. When he hits something hard and plastic he snatches it and glances at the time. Five twenty-four. They have to be up in half an hour and Minhyuk’s pretty sure Jiho didn’t come in until two.
Jiho doesn’t seem like he’s budging anytime soon, so Minhyuk sighs a second time, a bit irritably as he tells himself that half an hour more won’t kill him. When Jiho’s alarm goes off, he’ll wake up himself and get off of Minhyuk and then perhaps avoid him entirely from embarrassment for a few days.
Why did he have to be so nice anyways?
Jiho’s alarm is some Jay-Z song Minhyuk doesn’t really care for - it’s one of those songs that you can’t really dance to and Minhyuk’s never really liked those much. He doesn’t groan this time, but shutters awake, eyes blinking groggily as if trying to figure out his surroundings.
Just as Minhyuk feels Jiho tense up, he shuts his eyes and pretends to breathe out as evenly as possible.
“Turn that the fuck off,” Jaehyo growls from above them and Jiho finally - finally - removes himself from off of Minhyuk.
“Fuck,” he hears Jiho hiss, overtop of the rapping still coming from wherever his phone is.
Minhyuk cracks an eye open as discreetly as he can and finds Jiho sitting on his bed with his back facing him. He opens his eyes fully then, watching as Jiho feels around for his phone, much like Minhyuk had earlier. As Jiho finally finds it, he turns the alarm off and runs a hand through his messy hair.
Minhyuk fights down the urge to give him a pat on the back and pretends to sleep some more.
He doesn’t quite believe it. Well, he has to of course, but for fuck’s sake, really? Jiho needs to learn to sleep in his own bed. Or, at the very least, to not sleep on top of Minhyuk.
Minhyuk’s tired and a bit cranky and he nudges Jiho roughly to get him to shuffle over. This earns him a whiney noise and Minhyuk half expects to be called “mom” again but Jiho rolls off. Minhyuk counts this as a blessing, pulling his arm out from underneath Jiho.
“Woo Jiho,” he whispers to himself. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
Minhyuk realises that he’s not very far from falling off of his own bed, what with Jiho taking most of it up. Subduing a groan, Minhyuk attempts to tuck Jiho into himself to scrounge himself some more space but just as he manages to shift Jiho’s leg to the other side of the bed, Jiho wiggles closer.
Once again, Minhyuk finds himself with a handful of Jiho and a part of him wants to sigh in defeat, while another part, perhaps, wants to shove Jiho right off of his bed. The younger boy seems to tuck himself into Minhyuk as if this wasn’t the first time he’d stolen someone’s bed.
His own mind’s too tired to really put up a fight right now, anyways and he can still feel the heavy ache of practicing their choreography thorough out his body, weighing down on him. It seems easier to just drape an arm over Jiho and sleep with a warm body pressed against him.
He can deal with Jiho’s weird sleeping habits later.
By the eighth night, Minhyuk doesn’t even put up a fight. He just adjusts himself to allow for Jiho to wrap his arm over Minhyuk’s abdomen and settle his head against Minhyuk’s chest. Minhyuk pulls his blanket up over Jiho and himself and whispers goodnight.
He wakes up before Jiho, just like usual but unlike most mornings, he’s met with Jiho’s face barely an inch away from his own. Minhyuk feels his breath lodge itself in the back of his throat, something uncomfortable and persistent.
For the first time, Minhyuk is all too aware of Jiho’s body pressed up against his, legs tangled together in some strange mess. His heart seems to slow down, beats ringing through his head like a tolling bell, reverberating endlessly. How could Jiho not hear him?
It’s only when Jiho shifts, turning his head away from Minhyuk that Minhyuk sucks in a shuddering breath. He disentangles himself and gets out of his bed. There are goosebumps forming on his skin, slithering down his back. Minhyuk rubs his arms, glancing back at Jiho one last time before he gets up and goes to the bathroom.
Sometimes when Minhyuk looks at himself in the mirror, he thinks about what others might see. Today, he wonders if Jiho’s ever stared at him while he pretended to sleep, wonders if time slowed down like it did for Minhyuk.
He snorts at the absurdity of his own thoughts; what the fuck is he even going on about? Minhyuk turns the tap on and splashes cold water in his face, once, twice, thrice before he looks back up at his reflection in the mirror.
There are bags underneath his eyes and a few pimples forming along his jaw. He’s stressed out and tired, just like everyone else. Sighing, Minhyuk pats his face dry before heading back to bed. He stares down at Jiho’s body for a good minute before crawling back underneath his blanket.
Oddly, he thinks, he can’t imagine falling asleep without Jiho now.
Minhyuk thinks about it - whatever it is - before going to bed the next night, having closely watched Jiho during practise, and he had seemed a bit sluggish. Perhaps too tired or out of it. Minhyuk thinks about the soft smile Jiho managed to give while Kyung had tried to make another of his not-so-funny jokes and wonders why he had momentarily felt something flutter through his stomach.
He’s watched Jiho lying next to him, pretty eyes shut softly, black eyelashes contrasting against pale skin, full pink lips parted ever so slightly. It’s crossed his mind how easy it would be to lean over and press his lips against Jiho’s but Minhyuk doesn’t want stolen kisses in the wee hours of the morning. He thinks he wants something a bit more real than that.
Except for how he doesn’t quite know how to approach what’s been going on lately. He’s let Jiho think he doesn’t know. Doesn’t remember a night spent with his body pressed against Jiho’s and every time Minhyuk’s gone and draped an arm around Jiho’s shoulders, he’s felt Jiho freeze up underneath him.
For the most part, Jiho’s avoided him too. Minhyuk’s kept his distance, more out of respect than anything else. He’s wondered why Jiho’s suddenly taken to sleeping with him but he supposes there’s no real answer to it. It’s not like Jiho is clingy the way Jihoon is or even Kyung. In fact, Jiho’s pretty independent and always tries to do all the work himself.
It’s a bit silly, Minhyuk thinks, but he’s never really thought he was in a position to say anything. If anything, Minhyuk’s far more reserved than Jiho and he’s not too fond of people invading his personal space but Jiho, Jiho is definitely the exception and not the rule.
Briefly, Minhyuk looks over at Jiho’s empty bed. He knows where Jiho is, sitting with Kyung in the living room as they look over some of Jiho’s latest compositions. There’s an odd sort of prickling sensation in Minhyuk’s chest and he knows it’s not jealously because he’s not fourteen. No, he’s pretty sure that he just wishes Jiho would share his music with him, too. After all, Minhyuk certainly thinks he shares more with Jiho than Kyung at this point.
Okay, so maybe he’s a little jealous.
Minhyuk thinks that Jiho must really be telling himself some interesting lies if he thinks that Minhyuk hasn’t realised Jiho’s been drifting into his bed for a month now. He’s been awake for almost an hour now, and luckily for them, they don’t have any schedules today. Just practise, which, since Jihoon and Jaehyo made great puppy dog eyes at their manager last night, was postponed to eleven.
Jiho’s lying on his stomach, face turned toward Minhyuk. His hair’s a bit of a horrible mess but Minhyuk thinks it’s somewhat cute. His mouth is parted ever so slightly, the slightest bit of teeth peeking through. He can’t really help but stare, once again considering what Jiho must taste like. Probably morning breath.
Generally, Minhyuk’s terribly considerate and doesn’t do anything impulsively because while he likes freestyle dancing as much as the next guy, dance is nothing if not control. He likes knowing he won’t put himself in an embarrassing situation by doing something stupid, like brushing Jiho’s fringe out of his eyes.
Except that he does and Jiho’s eyes flutter open almost immediately. Minhyuk curses under his breath. Really, Minhyuk had elbowed Jiho once and barely gotten a reaction and now a hair brush had him face to face with a surprised and apparently rather embarrassed Jiho, if his reddening ear was anything to go by.
Minhyuk clears his throat, smiling a bit awkwardly as he pulls his hand away from Jiho. “Hi.”
Jiho’s gone rigid next to him and Minhyuk knows he should pull his arm out from underneath him but he wants to pull Jiho even closer.
“Hyung,” Jiho finally manages, voice a low croak.
Not quite knowing how to reply, Minhyuk opts for silence. He figures that if anything, Jiho has more to be embarrassed about.
It takes Jiho a moment to gather up the courage to say something, cheeks progressively getting redder and redder. Minhyuk thinks that’s pretty cute, too. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” Minhyuk replies and the look of pleasant surprise on Jiho’s face makes his stomach churn happily.
“For, um, for this,” he answers, making a vague hand motion at the space between himself and Minhyuk. “I’ll try not to, uh, yeah…”
Minhyuk can’t help but frown at the statement; he knows Jiho means well but perhaps he should be a bit more considerate. “Why? It’s not like I’m mad.”
Jiho's eyes sort of widen, as if the fact that Minhyuk doesn’t feel the need to shove him right off his bed is somehow a miracle. Minhyuk knows he has more important things to worry about right now, but he can’t help but find Jiho’s eyes pretty. He pulls Jiho a little closer, free hand reaching to brush against Jiho’s jaw.
Minhyuk makes eye contact with Jiho, asking if this is okay, if it’s okay that he wants to lean in and capture his lips in his own. Jiho looks uncertain for a second before he lets out a shallow breath. The smallest of nods follows and Minhyuk closes the distance between him and Jiho instantaneously.
Jiho’s lips are even softer than Minhyuk’s imagined them and they’re warm and supple and Minhyuk feels like he could devour Jiho whole. He sucks on Jiho’s bottom lip, tongue brushing against it gently as he pries Jiho’s mouth open.
Pulling Jiho even closer, Minhyuk slides a hand down his side, warmth radiating off of Jiho like sunshine. His hand travels to the small of Jiho’s back and Jiho makes a choking moan, a hand suddenly winding into Minhyuk’s hair.
Minhyuk hadn’t really intended to go this far, had just thought a few kisses would be enough but Jiho’s making small whimpering noises as he trails kisses along his jaw. He lets his hand wander lower, thin fabric of Jiho’s boxers the only barrier between Minhyuk and Jiho’s ass. He cups it, squeezing slightly at first but when Jiho lets out a breathy gasp, Minhyuk squeezes even harder.
Briefly, somewhere in the back of his mind, Minhyuk hopes Jaehyo doesn’t hear anything but Jiho’s tightening grip on Minhyuk’s shoulder brings him back. Minhyuk nips Jiho’s earlobe, catches the suppressed moan, as he palms Jiho’s ass again.
“Hyung,” Jiho gasps, “Hyung, please”
Minhyuk feels his dick twitch at the sight of Jiho’s half-lidded eyes, full lips swollen and flushed red. He pushes his thigh between Jiho’s legs, watching intently as Jiho shivers when Minhyuk feels his fullness against him.
“Please what?” Minhyuk whispers, smirking at how easy it is to unravel Jiho. But Jiho catches him completely off guard when he bites down on his own lip, pleading eyes looking up at Minhyuk.
Minhyuk curses under his breath, crushing his mouth against Jiho’s as he swallows Jiho’s moans whole. He shifts his thigh between Jiho’s legs, creating slow friction, letting himself enjoy the feel of Jiho pressed against him so close. Moving his hand away from Jiho’s ass, Minhyuk slides it underneath Jiho’s shirt, fingers meeting smooth skin as the glide upwards to capture Jiho’s nipple. Minhyuk pinches it, relishing the shuddering cry from Jiho, before rubbing the nub to full hardness.
“Stop teasing me,” Jiho whines, pushing Minhyuk’s hand down and Minhyuk can’t help but grin at how eager Jiho is. He lets Jiho guide his hand lower, fingers skimming across Jiho’s skin as he finally meets Jiho’s cock. He feels the wet precum seeping into Jiho’s boxers, pushes his thigh against the base of Jiho’s cock one last time as he palms Jiho’s dick slowly. He wants to hear Jiho whine, beg a little.
Jiho kisses Minhyuk, biting Minhyuk’s lip hard enough that he thinks he might be bleeding but the taste of iron doesn’t spread across his tongue. Minhyuk smirks against Jiho’s lips, tongue pushing through to sweep into his mouth as he finally slips his hand underneath Jiho’s waistband.
Minhyuk glides a hand down Jiho’s thigh, eliciting a whimpering moan, hand travelling closer and closer to Jiho’s cock. Ghosting his fingers over Jiho’s shaft, he rubs his thumb over Jiho’s head before wrapping his fingers around Jiho. He slides his hand down slowly, enjoying Jiho’s whines of “Faster, hyung” before actually picking up his pace.
It surprises him when he feels Jiho push his hand down Minhyuk’s pants, grasping his cock. He lets out an embarrassing moan when Jiho begins pumping, lithe fingers travelling up and down his length.
He takes Jiho’s lips once more, as he feels him thrust into Minhyuk’s hand, little whimpers escaping him despite trying to suppress them. Minhyuk’s strokes on Jiho’s cock get a little less measured, messier even, as he tries to hold off his own orgasm a little longer.
He twists his hand around Jiho’s dick, stroking upwards when he feels Jiho’s body go perfectly still. Jiho digs his head into the crook of Minhyuk’s neck, biting down to hide the low moan that leaves his throat. Minhyuk’s hand is coated with cum, as Jiho’s shudders subside, hand still pumping his cock slowly as he milks the last drops of cum out of him.
Jiho’s panting breaths press warm, humid air against his skin, and Minhyuk wants to kiss him again. Wants to spread Jiho out across the bed and fuck him until he can’t stand but Minhyuk knows how to wait, he’s pretty good at it actually. But right now, he really wishes Jiho would hurry up and let him orgasm. His cock pulsates painfully under Jiho’s fingers and when he realises that Minhyuk’s still waiting, he mumbles an embarrassed, “Sorry” before stroking Minhyuk again.
Two, three, four strokes later and Minhyuk is coating Jiho’s hand much the same way as Jiho had, groaning Jiho’s name into his mouth. His mind’s gone absolutely blank, pleasure ringing through his body like a drug. He comes off his high slowly, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.
Jiho kisses him lazily, wiping his dirty hand on his own shirt before yanking it off. He cleans Minhyuk’s hand, too, before tossing the shirt onto his own bed. Minhyuk pulls him closer to himself and lets Jiho snuggle into his chest.
In all honesty, Minhyuk could get used to this.
- idek wtf this is but it works on the grounds that block b’s sleeping arrangements are permanent and resemble how everyone slept in the first episode of match up. k? cool.
- more importantly, i blame everything on hotpixel because everything is always her fault. u___u
- also, title is from fall out boy's dance, dance.
block b; zbomb; nc-17; 2800
minhyuk's been waking up to a not completely unwelcome suprise in his bed lately.
crawling into bed with me
The first time it happens, Minhyuk isn’t even sure how it happened. All he knows is that he has a bundle full of Woo Jiho draped over his body. He lies under his dongsaeng, briefly thanking God that at least Jiho’s gotten rid of his dreads because they would have been terribly itchy.
He waits for a good five minutes, hoping that Jiho will perhaps shift over to his own bed since Minhyuk does think a bed is more comfortable than his own body, before nudging him.
Nothing.
Perhaps he was being too gentle, Minhyuk thinks, so he nudges a bit harder. This earns him a strange groan like noise and Jiho, somehow, manages to dig himself into Minhyuk just a little bit more.
Minhyuk sighs, rubbing his eyes with his only free hand, the other trapped under Jiho’s abdomen.
“Jiho,” Minhyuk says, “You need to get off of me.”
He gets another groan, followed by a, “Five more minutes, mum.”
“I’m not your mother,” Minhyuk grumbles, shaking Jiho roughly. He knows Jiho’s tired, after all it’s not like the boy sleeps if it means he can camp out in his studio forever but he’s just slightly - really - heavy and Minhyuk thinks his lungs are going to give out soon.
Minhyuk struggles to find his phone, his arm twisting uncomfortably as he swipes for it under his pillow. When he hits something hard and plastic he snatches it and glances at the time. Five twenty-four. They have to be up in half an hour and Minhyuk’s pretty sure Jiho didn’t come in until two.
Jiho doesn’t seem like he’s budging anytime soon, so Minhyuk sighs a second time, a bit irritably as he tells himself that half an hour more won’t kill him. When Jiho’s alarm goes off, he’ll wake up himself and get off of Minhyuk and then perhaps avoid him entirely from embarrassment for a few days.
Why did he have to be so nice anyways?
Jiho’s alarm is some Jay-Z song Minhyuk doesn’t really care for - it’s one of those songs that you can’t really dance to and Minhyuk’s never really liked those much. He doesn’t groan this time, but shutters awake, eyes blinking groggily as if trying to figure out his surroundings.
Just as Minhyuk feels Jiho tense up, he shuts his eyes and pretends to breathe out as evenly as possible.
“Turn that the fuck off,” Jaehyo growls from above them and Jiho finally - finally - removes himself from off of Minhyuk.
“Fuck,” he hears Jiho hiss, overtop of the rapping still coming from wherever his phone is.
Minhyuk cracks an eye open as discreetly as he can and finds Jiho sitting on his bed with his back facing him. He opens his eyes fully then, watching as Jiho feels around for his phone, much like Minhyuk had earlier. As Jiho finally finds it, he turns the alarm off and runs a hand through his messy hair.
Minhyuk fights down the urge to give him a pat on the back and pretends to sleep some more.
He doesn’t quite believe it. Well, he has to of course, but for fuck’s sake, really? Jiho needs to learn to sleep in his own bed. Or, at the very least, to not sleep on top of Minhyuk.
Minhyuk’s tired and a bit cranky and he nudges Jiho roughly to get him to shuffle over. This earns him a whiney noise and Minhyuk half expects to be called “mom” again but Jiho rolls off. Minhyuk counts this as a blessing, pulling his arm out from underneath Jiho.
“Woo Jiho,” he whispers to himself. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
Minhyuk realises that he’s not very far from falling off of his own bed, what with Jiho taking most of it up. Subduing a groan, Minhyuk attempts to tuck Jiho into himself to scrounge himself some more space but just as he manages to shift Jiho’s leg to the other side of the bed, Jiho wiggles closer.
Once again, Minhyuk finds himself with a handful of Jiho and a part of him wants to sigh in defeat, while another part, perhaps, wants to shove Jiho right off of his bed. The younger boy seems to tuck himself into Minhyuk as if this wasn’t the first time he’d stolen someone’s bed.
His own mind’s too tired to really put up a fight right now, anyways and he can still feel the heavy ache of practicing their choreography thorough out his body, weighing down on him. It seems easier to just drape an arm over Jiho and sleep with a warm body pressed against him.
He can deal with Jiho’s weird sleeping habits later.
By the eighth night, Minhyuk doesn’t even put up a fight. He just adjusts himself to allow for Jiho to wrap his arm over Minhyuk’s abdomen and settle his head against Minhyuk’s chest. Minhyuk pulls his blanket up over Jiho and himself and whispers goodnight.
He wakes up before Jiho, just like usual but unlike most mornings, he’s met with Jiho’s face barely an inch away from his own. Minhyuk feels his breath lodge itself in the back of his throat, something uncomfortable and persistent.
For the first time, Minhyuk is all too aware of Jiho’s body pressed up against his, legs tangled together in some strange mess. His heart seems to slow down, beats ringing through his head like a tolling bell, reverberating endlessly. How could Jiho not hear him?
It’s only when Jiho shifts, turning his head away from Minhyuk that Minhyuk sucks in a shuddering breath. He disentangles himself and gets out of his bed. There are goosebumps forming on his skin, slithering down his back. Minhyuk rubs his arms, glancing back at Jiho one last time before he gets up and goes to the bathroom.
Sometimes when Minhyuk looks at himself in the mirror, he thinks about what others might see. Today, he wonders if Jiho’s ever stared at him while he pretended to sleep, wonders if time slowed down like it did for Minhyuk.
He snorts at the absurdity of his own thoughts; what the fuck is he even going on about? Minhyuk turns the tap on and splashes cold water in his face, once, twice, thrice before he looks back up at his reflection in the mirror.
There are bags underneath his eyes and a few pimples forming along his jaw. He’s stressed out and tired, just like everyone else. Sighing, Minhyuk pats his face dry before heading back to bed. He stares down at Jiho’s body for a good minute before crawling back underneath his blanket.
Oddly, he thinks, he can’t imagine falling asleep without Jiho now.
Minhyuk thinks about it - whatever it is - before going to bed the next night, having closely watched Jiho during practise, and he had seemed a bit sluggish. Perhaps too tired or out of it. Minhyuk thinks about the soft smile Jiho managed to give while Kyung had tried to make another of his not-so-funny jokes and wonders why he had momentarily felt something flutter through his stomach.
He’s watched Jiho lying next to him, pretty eyes shut softly, black eyelashes contrasting against pale skin, full pink lips parted ever so slightly. It’s crossed his mind how easy it would be to lean over and press his lips against Jiho’s but Minhyuk doesn’t want stolen kisses in the wee hours of the morning. He thinks he wants something a bit more real than that.
Except for how he doesn’t quite know how to approach what’s been going on lately. He’s let Jiho think he doesn’t know. Doesn’t remember a night spent with his body pressed against Jiho’s and every time Minhyuk’s gone and draped an arm around Jiho’s shoulders, he’s felt Jiho freeze up underneath him.
For the most part, Jiho’s avoided him too. Minhyuk’s kept his distance, more out of respect than anything else. He’s wondered why Jiho’s suddenly taken to sleeping with him but he supposes there’s no real answer to it. It’s not like Jiho is clingy the way Jihoon is or even Kyung. In fact, Jiho’s pretty independent and always tries to do all the work himself.
It’s a bit silly, Minhyuk thinks, but he’s never really thought he was in a position to say anything. If anything, Minhyuk’s far more reserved than Jiho and he’s not too fond of people invading his personal space but Jiho, Jiho is definitely the exception and not the rule.
Briefly, Minhyuk looks over at Jiho’s empty bed. He knows where Jiho is, sitting with Kyung in the living room as they look over some of Jiho’s latest compositions. There’s an odd sort of prickling sensation in Minhyuk’s chest and he knows it’s not jealously because he’s not fourteen. No, he’s pretty sure that he just wishes Jiho would share his music with him, too. After all, Minhyuk certainly thinks he shares more with Jiho than Kyung at this point.
Okay, so maybe he’s a little jealous.
Minhyuk thinks that Jiho must really be telling himself some interesting lies if he thinks that Minhyuk hasn’t realised Jiho’s been drifting into his bed for a month now. He’s been awake for almost an hour now, and luckily for them, they don’t have any schedules today. Just practise, which, since Jihoon and Jaehyo made great puppy dog eyes at their manager last night, was postponed to eleven.
Jiho’s lying on his stomach, face turned toward Minhyuk. His hair’s a bit of a horrible mess but Minhyuk thinks it’s somewhat cute. His mouth is parted ever so slightly, the slightest bit of teeth peeking through. He can’t really help but stare, once again considering what Jiho must taste like. Probably morning breath.
Generally, Minhyuk’s terribly considerate and doesn’t do anything impulsively because while he likes freestyle dancing as much as the next guy, dance is nothing if not control. He likes knowing he won’t put himself in an embarrassing situation by doing something stupid, like brushing Jiho’s fringe out of his eyes.
Except that he does and Jiho’s eyes flutter open almost immediately. Minhyuk curses under his breath. Really, Minhyuk had elbowed Jiho once and barely gotten a reaction and now a hair brush had him face to face with a surprised and apparently rather embarrassed Jiho, if his reddening ear was anything to go by.
Minhyuk clears his throat, smiling a bit awkwardly as he pulls his hand away from Jiho. “Hi.”
Jiho’s gone rigid next to him and Minhyuk knows he should pull his arm out from underneath him but he wants to pull Jiho even closer.
“Hyung,” Jiho finally manages, voice a low croak.
Not quite knowing how to reply, Minhyuk opts for silence. He figures that if anything, Jiho has more to be embarrassed about.
It takes Jiho a moment to gather up the courage to say something, cheeks progressively getting redder and redder. Minhyuk thinks that’s pretty cute, too. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” Minhyuk replies and the look of pleasant surprise on Jiho’s face makes his stomach churn happily.
“For, um, for this,” he answers, making a vague hand motion at the space between himself and Minhyuk. “I’ll try not to, uh, yeah…”
Minhyuk can’t help but frown at the statement; he knows Jiho means well but perhaps he should be a bit more considerate. “Why? It’s not like I’m mad.”
Jiho's eyes sort of widen, as if the fact that Minhyuk doesn’t feel the need to shove him right off his bed is somehow a miracle. Minhyuk knows he has more important things to worry about right now, but he can’t help but find Jiho’s eyes pretty. He pulls Jiho a little closer, free hand reaching to brush against Jiho’s jaw.
Minhyuk makes eye contact with Jiho, asking if this is okay, if it’s okay that he wants to lean in and capture his lips in his own. Jiho looks uncertain for a second before he lets out a shallow breath. The smallest of nods follows and Minhyuk closes the distance between him and Jiho instantaneously.
Jiho’s lips are even softer than Minhyuk’s imagined them and they’re warm and supple and Minhyuk feels like he could devour Jiho whole. He sucks on Jiho’s bottom lip, tongue brushing against it gently as he pries Jiho’s mouth open.
Pulling Jiho even closer, Minhyuk slides a hand down his side, warmth radiating off of Jiho like sunshine. His hand travels to the small of Jiho’s back and Jiho makes a choking moan, a hand suddenly winding into Minhyuk’s hair.
Minhyuk hadn’t really intended to go this far, had just thought a few kisses would be enough but Jiho’s making small whimpering noises as he trails kisses along his jaw. He lets his hand wander lower, thin fabric of Jiho’s boxers the only barrier between Minhyuk and Jiho’s ass. He cups it, squeezing slightly at first but when Jiho lets out a breathy gasp, Minhyuk squeezes even harder.
Briefly, somewhere in the back of his mind, Minhyuk hopes Jaehyo doesn’t hear anything but Jiho’s tightening grip on Minhyuk’s shoulder brings him back. Minhyuk nips Jiho’s earlobe, catches the suppressed moan, as he palms Jiho’s ass again.
“Hyung,” Jiho gasps, “Hyung, please”
Minhyuk feels his dick twitch at the sight of Jiho’s half-lidded eyes, full lips swollen and flushed red. He pushes his thigh between Jiho’s legs, watching intently as Jiho shivers when Minhyuk feels his fullness against him.
“Please what?” Minhyuk whispers, smirking at how easy it is to unravel Jiho. But Jiho catches him completely off guard when he bites down on his own lip, pleading eyes looking up at Minhyuk.
Minhyuk curses under his breath, crushing his mouth against Jiho’s as he swallows Jiho’s moans whole. He shifts his thigh between Jiho’s legs, creating slow friction, letting himself enjoy the feel of Jiho pressed against him so close. Moving his hand away from Jiho’s ass, Minhyuk slides it underneath Jiho’s shirt, fingers meeting smooth skin as the glide upwards to capture Jiho’s nipple. Minhyuk pinches it, relishing the shuddering cry from Jiho, before rubbing the nub to full hardness.
“Stop teasing me,” Jiho whines, pushing Minhyuk’s hand down and Minhyuk can’t help but grin at how eager Jiho is. He lets Jiho guide his hand lower, fingers skimming across Jiho’s skin as he finally meets Jiho’s cock. He feels the wet precum seeping into Jiho’s boxers, pushes his thigh against the base of Jiho’s cock one last time as he palms Jiho’s dick slowly. He wants to hear Jiho whine, beg a little.
Jiho kisses Minhyuk, biting Minhyuk’s lip hard enough that he thinks he might be bleeding but the taste of iron doesn’t spread across his tongue. Minhyuk smirks against Jiho’s lips, tongue pushing through to sweep into his mouth as he finally slips his hand underneath Jiho’s waistband.
Minhyuk glides a hand down Jiho’s thigh, eliciting a whimpering moan, hand travelling closer and closer to Jiho’s cock. Ghosting his fingers over Jiho’s shaft, he rubs his thumb over Jiho’s head before wrapping his fingers around Jiho. He slides his hand down slowly, enjoying Jiho’s whines of “Faster, hyung” before actually picking up his pace.
It surprises him when he feels Jiho push his hand down Minhyuk’s pants, grasping his cock. He lets out an embarrassing moan when Jiho begins pumping, lithe fingers travelling up and down his length.
He takes Jiho’s lips once more, as he feels him thrust into Minhyuk’s hand, little whimpers escaping him despite trying to suppress them. Minhyuk’s strokes on Jiho’s cock get a little less measured, messier even, as he tries to hold off his own orgasm a little longer.
He twists his hand around Jiho’s dick, stroking upwards when he feels Jiho’s body go perfectly still. Jiho digs his head into the crook of Minhyuk’s neck, biting down to hide the low moan that leaves his throat. Minhyuk’s hand is coated with cum, as Jiho’s shudders subside, hand still pumping his cock slowly as he milks the last drops of cum out of him.
Jiho’s panting breaths press warm, humid air against his skin, and Minhyuk wants to kiss him again. Wants to spread Jiho out across the bed and fuck him until he can’t stand but Minhyuk knows how to wait, he’s pretty good at it actually. But right now, he really wishes Jiho would hurry up and let him orgasm. His cock pulsates painfully under Jiho’s fingers and when he realises that Minhyuk’s still waiting, he mumbles an embarrassed, “Sorry” before stroking Minhyuk again.
Two, three, four strokes later and Minhyuk is coating Jiho’s hand much the same way as Jiho had, groaning Jiho’s name into his mouth. His mind’s gone absolutely blank, pleasure ringing through his body like a drug. He comes off his high slowly, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.
Jiho kisses him lazily, wiping his dirty hand on his own shirt before yanking it off. He cleans Minhyuk’s hand, too, before tossing the shirt onto his own bed. Minhyuk pulls him closer to himself and lets Jiho snuggle into his chest.
In all honesty, Minhyuk could get used to this.
- idek wtf this is but it works on the grounds that block b’s sleeping arrangements are permanent and resemble how everyone slept in the first episode of match up. k? cool.
- more importantly, i blame everything on hotpixel because everything is always her fault. u___u
- also, title is from fall out boy's dance, dance.