Ready Or Not
Title: Ready Or Not
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Fourth installment in my personal challenge.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
Not because he hated Minho - no, it wasn’t anything like that at all.
He hated falling in love with Minho for the simple fact that he had never been in love before, with anyone.
But to say he had never loved would be wrong.
He loved music - his passion. He loved writing, he loved composing. He loved shutting himself off in his own world; he loved drowning himself in treble clefs and falsettos. He loved creating something out of nothing; he loved turning a plain piece of paper into a beautifully scribbled sonata. Music was something he understood - he had been gifted with it his whole life and if push came to shove, there was school, academics, teachers to help him when he didn’t get it.
His love and understand for music was his comfort zone.
His love for Minho was definitely out of his safety bubble.
It wasn’t like he’d planned on falling in love with one of his band members. Who’da thought, you know? But being in close quarters with four guys for so long… you were either bound to crack or turn gay.
Jinki thinks that both constitute as “going insane”.
“Hyung.”
Jinki yelped and fell off of the couch, sprawling gracelessly on the floor. His wide eyes blinked up at Minho, who was standing behind the couch, and the leader blushed and sat up.
“Yeah?”
Minho tilted his head, “Breakfast is ready.”
The rapper walked away, no big deal, and Jinki mentally kicked himself.
Way to look all leaderly and stuff.
He resigned his fate to the kitchen, where he sat down and fooled the members, and himself, that he wasn’t harboring a crush on Choi Minho.
Besides, he couldn’t focus on much when Key made his secret recipe French toast.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it because he couldn’t figure out how, when, or why.
Oh, he knew why nunas loved Minho. He had big, alluring eyes, a sincere smile, and a toned body with simple fashion sense. He was low maintenance and a generally dedicated guy.
He knew why hyungs loved him, too. Minho was a man’s man, into sports and food and banter. He was masculine and definitely one of “the guys”.
Which is why Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
Jinki got awkward easily in conversations. He was good at sports but not terribly competitive, nor did he care about winning. He could be a man’s man if he tried but he didn’t want to talk about sports and girls all the time. And he wasn’t good at banter, because he either actually insulted the person or said something way too ridiculous that no one understood.
“Hyung.”
Jinki yelped and walked into a closed door backstage, a hand flying up to rub his forehead. Minho blinked a few times and before Jinki could ask what he wanted, the rapper reached up and flitted his fingers over the reddening spot, his pads cool against the surface as his brows knit together in mild concern.
“Be careful,” Minho said lightly, smiling and patting Jinki on the shoulder before limping away.
Jinki blinked a few times to clear his vision, and then sighed as he resigned himself to his fate of stage performances.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it because he couldn’t stop.
He hated it because just when he could push it to the back of his mind, Minho would do something to pull up red flags in Jinki’s head.
Like right now.
Home alone, for whatever reason (Jinki suspected God hated him) with Minho, Jinki was trying to keep himself occupied. He got on the UFO and replied to a few fans, he surfed the web and watched some of their recent performances, taking notes on a piece of paper about what they could improve and what was perfect.
“Hyung.”
Jinki tensed, but he remained seated in his chair as he turned around and offered a smile to the younger man.
“Morning,” Jinki said, and then mentally face-palmed himself for ‘stupidest thing to say to your crush… at six in the evening’.
“Morning,” Minho arched a brow and chuckled, obviously not phased by Jinki’s sangtae. He gimped into the computer room and peered over Jinki’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Reviewing,” Jinki said, turning around again to look at the monitor, anywhere other than Minho’s chiseled jaw.
He felt Minho’s presence as the rapper put a hand on the back of the chair, the other resting on the desk as he leaned to get a better look at the video. A shudder went down Jinki’s spine with the close proximity, and when Minho spoke, it was directly in the leader’s ear and shot down to his toes.
“You look good.”
Jinki’s head turned in surprise, their noses brushing. The leader flushed darkly but Minho just chuckled, bumping his nose purposefully into Jinki’s red cheek, making the others’ heart palpitate.
And just like that he was gone, the scent of his cologne lingering on the air, the warmth of his body still seeping into Jinki’s skin.
He resigned himself to the fate of jerking off in the bathroom during his next shower.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it, because he was starting to imagine Minho reciprocating his feelings.
It was just little things; touches here, compliments there. But Minho usually only paid that kind of attention to Taemin.
Like a while back ago during the shoot for their album jacket, when Jinki was posing on a contraption made of plywood and ladders, clad in a mesh top and simple pants, the leader was surprised to hear Minho’s voice over by the behind the scenes camera.
“Sexy. I like it.”
He had said it so casually and almost as if in awe and Jinki nearly fell off of the prop when he heard that. But Minho was gone just as quickly as he appeared, and Jinki tried his best to shrug it off.
It didn’t work.
By the time Jinki got to the trampoline he was wrecked, stumbling clumsily and jumping awkwardly. At one point he almost fell off completely; he went off to the side and hopped on a bench with a bottle of water, watching Key do various acrobatics. It wasn’t long before Minho joined him and Jinki put on a smile, scooting over to make room.
“He’s good on the trampoline, huh?” Jinki asked, thinking that maybe small talk would distract him from how good Minho looked today.
“He looks like a cheerleader,” Minho commented, and Jinki nearly choked on his water with laughter.
“He does,” Jinki agreed.
Minho adjusted his legs, his thigh brushing against Jinki’s in the process, making the leader suck in a breath. The rapper arched a brow and moved his leg against Jinki’s again, and the leader spoke before he could stop himself.
“Please don’t, Minho,” Jinki said, his voice strained as his body started to heat up from the deliberate touches.
“Don’t what?” Minho couldn’t be classified as annoying but right now he was exactly that, as he moved so their shoulders brushed, too.
Jinki whimpered.
Minho smirked.
“Hyung,” Minho’s voice was dangerously low. “Can I help you with something?”
Jinki was momentarily confused - but when he glanced down to his lap he was horrified to see a bulge in his white pants. He scrambled off of the bench and high-tailed it out of the area, leaving an amused Minho behind.
Jinki resigned himself to jacking off in the shower four times to the sound of Minho’s voice echoing in his brain.
--
God hated Jinki.
There was no two ways about it.
God hated Jinki because he was having inappropriate thoughts about Minho. God hated him for being in love with another man.
God hated Jinki because it was fated that he and Minho were alone in the dorm… again. The rapper was on the couch playing a video game, his leg propped up on a pillow. Jinki was doing a crossword puzzle in the recliner, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He supposed it was peaceful enough, just them sitting here doing their own thing. He supposed it was peaceful enough - that is, until Minho paused his game and leaned back against the armrest, his legs splayed so the injured one could be rested properly.
“Hyung,” Minho said. His voice was deep and gravelly and Jinki had to wonder if it was because the rapper had two adam’s apples or if it was because he spoke so little, his voice got worn out from hours of no use.
But Jinki lifted his gaze anyway from his crossword, arching a brow.
Minho offered a small smile, “Need help with something?”
Jinki automatically looked down at his lap, memories of the photoshoot flooding hid mind. Minho laughed out loud and shook his head, gesturing to the crossword puzzle.
“Your pencil hasn’t moved in five minutes.”
“O-Oh…” Jinki ran a hand through his hair, blushing darkly and shaking his head. “No, I’m just thinking.”
Minho nodded, but kept his game paused. “I need help with something.”
Jinki blinked. “Do you need something to drink? Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving, actually.” Minho said.
Jinki fumbled to put his stuff down and stood up, setting down his crossword and moving to go to the kitchen. He didn’t get very far though; as he passed Minho his destination was swerved, the leader halting in his tracks as Minho reached out and grabbed the leg of the older man’s sweatpants.
“I want meat.”
Jinki stopped, confused as he looked at where Minho’s fingers were curled into his pants.
“I can make… bulgogi…?” Jinki ventured out loud.
“You already made something.”
Now Jinki was absolutely baffled.
“Huh?”
Minho smirked and tugged forcefully on the older man’s pants, causing the singer to collapse onto the couch. Their legs tangled and suddenly Jinki’s chest was pressed to Minho’s, the older man’s heart leaping into his throat and choking his breathing.
“M-Minho…?”
Minho’s voice was right in Jinki’s ear; “You made me hard.”
All functioning in Jinki’s brain stopped.
“I- Guh.”
Minho’s breath chuckle reverberated through Jinki’s entire body, making the singer shudder.
“Did you think you’re the only one in this state?”
Jinki didn’t think Minho had a sexuality. He had thought about it of course, because he was in love with him, duh, and he had considered Minho being gay because of how the rapper treated his hyungs and was such an advocate of skinship with them.
But Minho’s actions now were… well they stunned Jinki and as Jinki sat up to look down at the rapper, he felt the erection rubbing against his leg.
“Uh.”
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because all coherency left his brain in the most crucial moments.
“Gonna help me out?” Minho bucked his hips, hardness pushing against Jinki’s thigh.
Jinki sputtered and shook his head.
“Hyung, I know… I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
Jinki blushed and felt a vein or two pop in his forehead as he pulled back and tried to get away. Minho tightened his grip and flipped them over, pinning the singer to the couch.
“You’ve done nothing but run away. Now you man up and get what you want.”
Jinki squeaked in fright.
“Hyung…” Minho leaned down to scrap his teeth over the shell of Jinki’s ear.
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because he couldn’t resist anything Minho did.
Once again Minho grinded his clothed arousal against Jinki, this time aligning their crotches. The older man hissed in a breath and reached up to grip at Minho’s biceps, tilting his head as Minho’s thick lips dragged over his neck.
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because he didn’t know how Minho felt about him.
“Please…”
But with that one whispered plea, with the shakiness of Minho’s voice, Jinki threw caution out of the window and grabbed at the opportunity.
His hands hesitantly rested on Minho’s hips, pulling him closer as his own hips moved up. Minho let out a low growl and took that as the green light, grinding his hips down again. Jinki’s head tossed back and he shifted as Minho’s fingers pulled at his waist band, allowing the younger to pull them down. His own fingers fumbled in pushing Minho’s sweats down, inexperienced and eager fingers shyly flitting over the engorged flesh.
“Don’t tease, Jinki,” Minho growled, bucking his hips forward.
Jinki’s jaw tightened along with his fingers and Minho let out an appreciative sigh, his own fingers starting to jerk Jinki’s hardening shaft, bringing it to full attention. Minho pulled back and rested his forehead on Jinki’s, his big eyes wet and dilated as the older licked his fat lips. Their eyes locked and Jinki’s breath hitched, arching into the taller man’s body.
“Fuck,” Minho cursed, dipping his head down into the crook of Jinki’s neck. “Do you know how hard it’s been?”
Jinki tried to not make a cheesy joke.
“Fuck this concept… fuck the stylist nunas for putting you in… those mesh shirts and sleeveless vests…”
“Wha…?” Jinki’s mind tried to function again.
It was failing.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Jinki,” Minho panted.
… Oh.
Wait, wasn’t this backwards?
Minho ripped off Jinki’s shirt and his own followed, and even though they had seen each other topless multiple times this moment was different. Jinki’s eyes raked over Minho’s toned chest, the dips and planes prominent as the younger man inhaled and exhaled.
The rapper kissed and nipped his way down Jinki’s chest, some noises leaving the back of his throat as he descended lower, Jinki writhing under the wet heat of Minho’s tongue and rough hands. Before Jinki knew it, Minho’s lips were around his cock and Jinki’s hips surged reflexively upwards, Minho’s strong hands keeping him in place. The leader was coming undone and his mind was addled, eyes flying open to blindly stare at the ceiling as his fingers tried to find purchase in Minho’s hair only to have his digits slip through without catching on anything.
If there was ever a time Jinki missed the rappers’ long hair, it was now.
Minho removed his mouth from Jinki’s cock, kissing his way to the singers’ hip bones, scraping his teeth over the flesh and leaving shallow divots with his canines. A shudder wracked Jinki’s body, up and down his spine as he bowed his back, trying to get more of the stinging sensation that was tickling his nerves. But Minho wouldn’t allow that as his hands kept Jinki’s body firmly in place. The leader opened his eyes to see Minho hovering over his cock, swollen lips parted as saliva dripped and dribbled out of his mouth to land on the older man’s erection. The sight of Minho staring his cock down, torn between sucking it or teasing it, made the organ twitch in anticipation, bouncing towards Minho’s mouth in its own plea.
Minho smirked and chuckled, more spit dripping out of his mouth, the majority of it hitting the shaft and making it glisten, a few trails dripping down and hitting Jinki’s pelvis and ball sack, Jinki could feel his chest collapsing with each inhale, each exhale and breathing was becoming a conundrum and his fingers moved back into Minho’s cropped hair to try and ground himself once more. His eyes slipped closed and his brain was starved for oxygen and Minho’s slightly labored breathing above him definitely wasn’t helping anything.
“Jinki…”
Jinki’s eyes slitted open to see Minho on top of him completely, their bodies shifting so Minho’s knees could be on either side of the leaders’ hips.
For a moment, Jinki was confused. First Minho had been between his legs and Jinki had been ready to beg the younger man to just fuck him. Now, Minho was above him, gripping the base of his spit-slicked cock and guiding it between his ass cheeks.
“Wha… Minho…?” Jinki whimpered out, his cock swelling even further at just the thought of getting inside of Minho.
Minho’s eyes, however, were molten lava and Jinki was the unfortunate surface that the magma decided to land on.
“I’m gonna ride you so hard, Jinki.”
Jinki could have sworn he blacked out.
His hands moved to Minho’s hips to try and stop him because the younger hadn’t been prepared at all and Jinki’s cock was so big there was no way this was going to work, absolutely no way was Jinki’s cock going to -
“Fuck…!” Jinki hissed as the head of his cock breached Minho’s tight hole, slipping past the first ring of muscles into mind-obliterating tightness. His eyes slid over Minho’s body, Minho’s perfectly toned, athletic body, watching as the rapper clenched his jaw and seemed to focus himself on the task.
Not a peep came from the younger boy’s mouth, not a word nor a sound of discomfort even though it was obvious how much pain Minho was in. Jinki’s fingers dug into Minho’s hips before moving to wrap around his softening cock, stroking it back to life and Minho made a sound then, a low grunt as he seated himself completely on Jinki’s dick.
The leaders’ mind was blissfully blank, nothing registering save the pulsating vice grip around his own throbbing cock. He had never felt anything like it and to be honest had nothing to compare it to but for all he cared this was the best feeling in the entire world as his toes curled and his fingers flexed on that pale skin. Nothing could be better than this, nothing could feel better on his cock -
“Ah…!”
Minho rocked his body and set them in motion and alright, nothing could be better than that.
Jinki tried to stay focused, tried to run his hands over Minho’s sweaty body, fingers collecting the perspiration and spreading it over the slickening muscles. He tried to hold on to Minho, get some sort of grip and control the movements because Minho hadn’t lied when he said he was going to ride Jinki hard. The leader knew Minho was competitive and went for what he wanted with no stops but Jinki felt like his dick was going to break off at this pace.
Minho was relentless, though, his cock slapping his belly with every movement, the pre-cum drooling from the tip and sticking to his abs, leaving a thin trail from the muscles to the head of his cock. Jinki was entranced by that string, reaching out to break the strand and collect the pre-cum on his fingertip, bringing it to his lips to taste.
The rapper let out a low moan, feral and animalistic as it rumbled from his lips and Jinki glanced up to see those big eyes heated and so wet they were nearly black. Jinki’s breath hitched and Minho’s finger smeared the cum around Jinki’s lips like a lewd white lipstick, the leader letting out the sluttiest, most wanton moan he was capable of.
Physically, Jinki may have been the one fucking Minho.
But the absolute dominance and control that was just seeping out of Minho’s every pore, ever fiber of his being was undeniable, made Jinki realize that this was only happening because Minho wanted it to happen this way.
Oh God.
Parting his lips, Jinki took Minho’s fingers in his mouth, tongue sliding up and down and in between the digits as their eyes locked. An electric current shot through Jinki’s dick because damn if Minho looked hot when he was all angry and competitive, the way he looked while bouncing on Jinki’s cock was tenfold. A hundred fold.
His long legs were bent and his feet were planted in the cushions on either side of the leaders’ body, abs rippling and folding under his shiny skin. One hand was propped up on the armrest of the couch next to where Jinki’s head was lying, the other caught in Jinki’s hold with his fingers in the leaders’ mouth. His pale skin was flushed, his thigh muscles were flexing with the exertion, a line dipping down the side of each of his quads from where his muscles were straining against the skin. And finally the look on his face, sweat dripping down his nose and making his brow shimmer, his big eyes staring Jinki down, his ass swallowing his cock whole; Jinki knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for.
Licking his lips, Jinki wrapped his fingers around Minho’s cock, gripping the shaft and giving awkward, frenzied thrusts. Minho felt hot, heavy, impossibly hard in Jinki’s fingers and it was just… hypnotic, watching his fingers slide over the flesh, watching the pearly liquid gather at the tip. Minho himself was just a drug and as Jinki’s hips started to snap up to meet Minho’s rocking, the rappers’ chin dropped to his chest, his breath coming out in short huffs. Together they were coming undone and Minho was so tight, so damn tight, a vacuous vice grip on Jinki’s dick and Jinki’s fingers tightened that much more, pinching the base of Minho’s cock before trailing down to his balls, rolling them around in his palm. This had all been so sudden, Minho’s advances and Jinki’s submission, that Jinki was honestly surprised that he’d lasted this long.
A jolt went through Jinki’s body and curled his toes, throwing the previous thought out the window.
“M-Minho…” Jinki mumbled around the rappers’ fingers. Minho removed them from Jinki’s lips, curling them wetly into Jinki’s hair. With his grip he forced Jinki’s head to the side, leaning down to graze his teeth over the exposed flesh. “Ah… I’m close…”
He could feel the smirk against his skin and hear the satisfaction in Minho’s voice.
“Good.”
Suddenly, it felt like Minho’s asshole shrunk to half its size, and Jinki saw the younger man’s entire body clench before Jinki’s vision went white, then black. His hips spasmed and he felt like each one of his nerves was having its own orgasm as he rode his out, feeling his cum gather inside Minho’s hole and surround his cock.
Jinki collapsed bonelessly and regained his breath, staring up at Minho and still clearly lost in the pleasure. Minho’s smirk was visible now as he pulled off of Jinki’s cock; a mixture of blood and cum seeped out of his stretched hole, dripping onto Jinki’s stomach and thighs as Minho leaned against the opposite armrest, stroking his cock leisurely, unaffected by the previous pain.
“Hyung.”
Jinki barely regained consciousness, blinking his eyes open and staring at Minho’s fingers that were entrancing as they moved up and down his erection.
“Hyung.”
Minho said it a bit more firm this time and Jinki blinked, clearing the fog from his brain. Looking up, Jinki licked his lips and finally registered the leftover pre-cum coating them, and he kinda sorta knew what Minho wanted but his mind was still hazy.
“Hyung…” Minho’s smirk turned into a softer smile, his fingers crooking once he saw he had Jinki’s attention. “Suck me.”
Despite the fact that Jinki had never done something like that before, he complied without hesitation, moving his lead-weight body and shifting to get between Minho’s legs, his lips stretching thin around the head as he took in Minho’s cock.
The taste wasn’t bad. Actually it was just salty skin and Jinki didn’t mind that. Minho’s drug was still in his veins, intoxicating him and pulling him in further and further. Jinki started to suck, his cheeks hollowing and Minho had been close before, so surely it wouldn’t take too long -
“Fuck.”
Minho’s hands moved to grip both sides of Jinki’s head, holding him in place as his cock fucked all the way into Jinki’s throat. The leader tried to relax, he knew it would go easier if he did but his gag reflex refused to get out of the way. With each bump of Minho’s cock to the back of Jinki’s throat the muscles constricted and spasmed around it.
The rappers’ eyes rolled into the back of his head and his grip tightened in Jinki’s hair, forcing his head away. Confused, Jinki opened his eyes and parted his lips to ask what was wrong, but before he could get anything out Minho jerked his cock a few quick times and his cum spilled in hot sticky ropes, onto Jinki’s nose, left cheek, over his lips and to his chin. Some got in his hair and it was hot, it was uncomfortably warm when it hit his skin and he closed his eyes and tried to move away - Minho’s grip in his hair tightened to keep him in place as he milked the rest of his orgasm, a few more ropes hitting Jinki’s face before Minho slumped back against the armrest with a long exhale.
Jinki cracked an eye open and once he deemed it safe to just open them he took in Minho’s completely sated form, a glitter in his eyes that had been so dim lately with his injury. And Jinki, despite the cum on his face, despite his completely debauched appearance, let out a soft smile as he regarded the rapper with nothing but affection.
“You look good like that,” Minho said, gesturing idly with a hand before he reached out with a finger to smear the cum on Jinki’s cheek, rubbing it into his skin like a lotion. “Mmmm.”
Jinki’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment, he felt his neck and his ears go red as he reached up to wipe the cum away - Minho’s fingers caught his wrist before he could touch himself and Minho yanked Jinki up, the two chest to chest again as Minho’s tongue darted out and he started to carefully clean up his mess, finishing it with a deep, languid kiss to Jinki’s lips.
The leader just whimpered slightly, heart hammering in his chest once again as their lips locked for the first time, tasting each other and Minho’s cum and ok so it wasn’t the most glorious kiss but it was… warm and inviting and Jinki for once felt like his questions (or prayers) had been answered.
The kiss broke and Jinki looked up into Minho’s big, sweet eyes and smiled a bit lopsidedly, to which Minho just grinned back and snuggled Jinki down into his chest, kissing the top of his head as they got comfortable and started to snooze.
Jinki loved falling in love with Minho.
He loved it because Minho loved him back, Minho cared for him and he loved it most of all because…
“Saranghae.” Minho whispered against Jinki’s hair just before they fell asleep.
He loved it most of all because this beautiful man who had all of those hyungs, all of those nunas, had chosen him.
And ready or not, they were on this road together, to see where it led them.
For now, though, Minho shifted and winced, some of Jinki’s weight resting on his injured leg. Jinki woke up and immediately sat up, putting more of his weight on Minho’s leg and the athlete let out a low hiss of pain and Jinki apologized, sputtering as he leapt off of Minho’s body to hurriedly pull on his boxers and run into the kitchen, effectively emptying almost the entire contents of the freezer and ruining Key’s color organized dish towel drawer in order to get Minho some ice, which the rapper accepted and tried to assure Jinki that he was fine and they could just move to a bed in order to sleep in a more comfortable position.
Jinki loved falling in love with Minho.
He loved it, because he didn’t hate it.
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Fourth installment in my personal challenge.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
Not because he hated Minho - no, it wasn’t anything like that at all.
He hated falling in love with Minho for the simple fact that he had never been in love before, with anyone.
But to say he had never loved would be wrong.
He loved music - his passion. He loved writing, he loved composing. He loved shutting himself off in his own world; he loved drowning himself in treble clefs and falsettos. He loved creating something out of nothing; he loved turning a plain piece of paper into a beautifully scribbled sonata. Music was something he understood - he had been gifted with it his whole life and if push came to shove, there was school, academics, teachers to help him when he didn’t get it.
His love and understand for music was his comfort zone.
His love for Minho was definitely out of his safety bubble.
It wasn’t like he’d planned on falling in love with one of his band members. Who’da thought, you know? But being in close quarters with four guys for so long… you were either bound to crack or turn gay.
Jinki thinks that both constitute as “going insane”.
“Hyung.”
Jinki yelped and fell off of the couch, sprawling gracelessly on the floor. His wide eyes blinked up at Minho, who was standing behind the couch, and the leader blushed and sat up.
“Yeah?”
Minho tilted his head, “Breakfast is ready.”
The rapper walked away, no big deal, and Jinki mentally kicked himself.
Way to look all leaderly and stuff.
He resigned his fate to the kitchen, where he sat down and fooled the members, and himself, that he wasn’t harboring a crush on Choi Minho.
Besides, he couldn’t focus on much when Key made his secret recipe French toast.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it because he couldn’t figure out how, when, or why.
Oh, he knew why nunas loved Minho. He had big, alluring eyes, a sincere smile, and a toned body with simple fashion sense. He was low maintenance and a generally dedicated guy.
He knew why hyungs loved him, too. Minho was a man’s man, into sports and food and banter. He was masculine and definitely one of “the guys”.
Which is why Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
Jinki got awkward easily in conversations. He was good at sports but not terribly competitive, nor did he care about winning. He could be a man’s man if he tried but he didn’t want to talk about sports and girls all the time. And he wasn’t good at banter, because he either actually insulted the person or said something way too ridiculous that no one understood.
“Hyung.”
Jinki yelped and walked into a closed door backstage, a hand flying up to rub his forehead. Minho blinked a few times and before Jinki could ask what he wanted, the rapper reached up and flitted his fingers over the reddening spot, his pads cool against the surface as his brows knit together in mild concern.
“Be careful,” Minho said lightly, smiling and patting Jinki on the shoulder before limping away.
Jinki blinked a few times to clear his vision, and then sighed as he resigned himself to his fate of stage performances.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it because he couldn’t stop.
He hated it because just when he could push it to the back of his mind, Minho would do something to pull up red flags in Jinki’s head.
Like right now.
Home alone, for whatever reason (Jinki suspected God hated him) with Minho, Jinki was trying to keep himself occupied. He got on the UFO and replied to a few fans, he surfed the web and watched some of their recent performances, taking notes on a piece of paper about what they could improve and what was perfect.
“Hyung.”
Jinki tensed, but he remained seated in his chair as he turned around and offered a smile to the younger man.
“Morning,” Jinki said, and then mentally face-palmed himself for ‘stupidest thing to say to your crush… at six in the evening’.
“Morning,” Minho arched a brow and chuckled, obviously not phased by Jinki’s sangtae. He gimped into the computer room and peered over Jinki’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Reviewing,” Jinki said, turning around again to look at the monitor, anywhere other than Minho’s chiseled jaw.
He felt Minho’s presence as the rapper put a hand on the back of the chair, the other resting on the desk as he leaned to get a better look at the video. A shudder went down Jinki’s spine with the close proximity, and when Minho spoke, it was directly in the leader’s ear and shot down to his toes.
“You look good.”
Jinki’s head turned in surprise, their noses brushing. The leader flushed darkly but Minho just chuckled, bumping his nose purposefully into Jinki’s red cheek, making the others’ heart palpitate.
And just like that he was gone, the scent of his cologne lingering on the air, the warmth of his body still seeping into Jinki’s skin.
He resigned himself to the fate of jerking off in the bathroom during his next shower.
--
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho.
He hated it, because he was starting to imagine Minho reciprocating his feelings.
It was just little things; touches here, compliments there. But Minho usually only paid that kind of attention to Taemin.
Like a while back ago during the shoot for their album jacket, when Jinki was posing on a contraption made of plywood and ladders, clad in a mesh top and simple pants, the leader was surprised to hear Minho’s voice over by the behind the scenes camera.
“Sexy. I like it.”
He had said it so casually and almost as if in awe and Jinki nearly fell off of the prop when he heard that. But Minho was gone just as quickly as he appeared, and Jinki tried his best to shrug it off.
It didn’t work.
By the time Jinki got to the trampoline he was wrecked, stumbling clumsily and jumping awkwardly. At one point he almost fell off completely; he went off to the side and hopped on a bench with a bottle of water, watching Key do various acrobatics. It wasn’t long before Minho joined him and Jinki put on a smile, scooting over to make room.
“He’s good on the trampoline, huh?” Jinki asked, thinking that maybe small talk would distract him from how good Minho looked today.
“He looks like a cheerleader,” Minho commented, and Jinki nearly choked on his water with laughter.
“He does,” Jinki agreed.
Minho adjusted his legs, his thigh brushing against Jinki’s in the process, making the leader suck in a breath. The rapper arched a brow and moved his leg against Jinki’s again, and the leader spoke before he could stop himself.
“Please don’t, Minho,” Jinki said, his voice strained as his body started to heat up from the deliberate touches.
“Don’t what?” Minho couldn’t be classified as annoying but right now he was exactly that, as he moved so their shoulders brushed, too.
Jinki whimpered.
Minho smirked.
“Hyung,” Minho’s voice was dangerously low. “Can I help you with something?”
Jinki was momentarily confused - but when he glanced down to his lap he was horrified to see a bulge in his white pants. He scrambled off of the bench and high-tailed it out of the area, leaving an amused Minho behind.
Jinki resigned himself to jacking off in the shower four times to the sound of Minho’s voice echoing in his brain.
--
God hated Jinki.
There was no two ways about it.
God hated Jinki because he was having inappropriate thoughts about Minho. God hated him for being in love with another man.
God hated Jinki because it was fated that he and Minho were alone in the dorm… again. The rapper was on the couch playing a video game, his leg propped up on a pillow. Jinki was doing a crossword puzzle in the recliner, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He supposed it was peaceful enough, just them sitting here doing their own thing. He supposed it was peaceful enough - that is, until Minho paused his game and leaned back against the armrest, his legs splayed so the injured one could be rested properly.
“Hyung,” Minho said. His voice was deep and gravelly and Jinki had to wonder if it was because the rapper had two adam’s apples or if it was because he spoke so little, his voice got worn out from hours of no use.
But Jinki lifted his gaze anyway from his crossword, arching a brow.
Minho offered a small smile, “Need help with something?”
Jinki automatically looked down at his lap, memories of the photoshoot flooding hid mind. Minho laughed out loud and shook his head, gesturing to the crossword puzzle.
“Your pencil hasn’t moved in five minutes.”
“O-Oh…” Jinki ran a hand through his hair, blushing darkly and shaking his head. “No, I’m just thinking.”
Minho nodded, but kept his game paused. “I need help with something.”
Jinki blinked. “Do you need something to drink? Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving, actually.” Minho said.
Jinki fumbled to put his stuff down and stood up, setting down his crossword and moving to go to the kitchen. He didn’t get very far though; as he passed Minho his destination was swerved, the leader halting in his tracks as Minho reached out and grabbed the leg of the older man’s sweatpants.
“I want meat.”
Jinki stopped, confused as he looked at where Minho’s fingers were curled into his pants.
“I can make… bulgogi…?” Jinki ventured out loud.
“You already made something.”
Now Jinki was absolutely baffled.
“Huh?”
Minho smirked and tugged forcefully on the older man’s pants, causing the singer to collapse onto the couch. Their legs tangled and suddenly Jinki’s chest was pressed to Minho’s, the older man’s heart leaping into his throat and choking his breathing.
“M-Minho…?”
Minho’s voice was right in Jinki’s ear; “You made me hard.”
All functioning in Jinki’s brain stopped.
“I- Guh.”
Minho’s breath chuckle reverberated through Jinki’s entire body, making the singer shudder.
“Did you think you’re the only one in this state?”
Jinki didn’t think Minho had a sexuality. He had thought about it of course, because he was in love with him, duh, and he had considered Minho being gay because of how the rapper treated his hyungs and was such an advocate of skinship with them.
But Minho’s actions now were… well they stunned Jinki and as Jinki sat up to look down at the rapper, he felt the erection rubbing against his leg.
“Uh.”
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because all coherency left his brain in the most crucial moments.
“Gonna help me out?” Minho bucked his hips, hardness pushing against Jinki’s thigh.
Jinki sputtered and shook his head.
“Hyung, I know… I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
Jinki blushed and felt a vein or two pop in his forehead as he pulled back and tried to get away. Minho tightened his grip and flipped them over, pinning the singer to the couch.
“You’ve done nothing but run away. Now you man up and get what you want.”
Jinki squeaked in fright.
“Hyung…” Minho leaned down to scrap his teeth over the shell of Jinki’s ear.
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because he couldn’t resist anything Minho did.
Once again Minho grinded his clothed arousal against Jinki, this time aligning their crotches. The older man hissed in a breath and reached up to grip at Minho’s biceps, tilting his head as Minho’s thick lips dragged over his neck.
Jinki hated falling in love with Minho because he didn’t know how Minho felt about him.
“Please…”
But with that one whispered plea, with the shakiness of Minho’s voice, Jinki threw caution out of the window and grabbed at the opportunity.
His hands hesitantly rested on Minho’s hips, pulling him closer as his own hips moved up. Minho let out a low growl and took that as the green light, grinding his hips down again. Jinki’s head tossed back and he shifted as Minho’s fingers pulled at his waist band, allowing the younger to pull them down. His own fingers fumbled in pushing Minho’s sweats down, inexperienced and eager fingers shyly flitting over the engorged flesh.
“Don’t tease, Jinki,” Minho growled, bucking his hips forward.
Jinki’s jaw tightened along with his fingers and Minho let out an appreciative sigh, his own fingers starting to jerk Jinki’s hardening shaft, bringing it to full attention. Minho pulled back and rested his forehead on Jinki’s, his big eyes wet and dilated as the older licked his fat lips. Their eyes locked and Jinki’s breath hitched, arching into the taller man’s body.
“Fuck,” Minho cursed, dipping his head down into the crook of Jinki’s neck. “Do you know how hard it’s been?”
Jinki tried to not make a cheesy joke.
“Fuck this concept… fuck the stylist nunas for putting you in… those mesh shirts and sleeveless vests…”
“Wha…?” Jinki’s mind tried to function again.
It was failing.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Jinki,” Minho panted.
… Oh.
Wait, wasn’t this backwards?
Minho ripped off Jinki’s shirt and his own followed, and even though they had seen each other topless multiple times this moment was different. Jinki’s eyes raked over Minho’s toned chest, the dips and planes prominent as the younger man inhaled and exhaled.
The rapper kissed and nipped his way down Jinki’s chest, some noises leaving the back of his throat as he descended lower, Jinki writhing under the wet heat of Minho’s tongue and rough hands. Before Jinki knew it, Minho’s lips were around his cock and Jinki’s hips surged reflexively upwards, Minho’s strong hands keeping him in place. The leader was coming undone and his mind was addled, eyes flying open to blindly stare at the ceiling as his fingers tried to find purchase in Minho’s hair only to have his digits slip through without catching on anything.
If there was ever a time Jinki missed the rappers’ long hair, it was now.
Minho removed his mouth from Jinki’s cock, kissing his way to the singers’ hip bones, scraping his teeth over the flesh and leaving shallow divots with his canines. A shudder wracked Jinki’s body, up and down his spine as he bowed his back, trying to get more of the stinging sensation that was tickling his nerves. But Minho wouldn’t allow that as his hands kept Jinki’s body firmly in place. The leader opened his eyes to see Minho hovering over his cock, swollen lips parted as saliva dripped and dribbled out of his mouth to land on the older man’s erection. The sight of Minho staring his cock down, torn between sucking it or teasing it, made the organ twitch in anticipation, bouncing towards Minho’s mouth in its own plea.
Minho smirked and chuckled, more spit dripping out of his mouth, the majority of it hitting the shaft and making it glisten, a few trails dripping down and hitting Jinki’s pelvis and ball sack, Jinki could feel his chest collapsing with each inhale, each exhale and breathing was becoming a conundrum and his fingers moved back into Minho’s cropped hair to try and ground himself once more. His eyes slipped closed and his brain was starved for oxygen and Minho’s slightly labored breathing above him definitely wasn’t helping anything.
“Jinki…”
Jinki’s eyes slitted open to see Minho on top of him completely, their bodies shifting so Minho’s knees could be on either side of the leaders’ hips.
For a moment, Jinki was confused. First Minho had been between his legs and Jinki had been ready to beg the younger man to just fuck him. Now, Minho was above him, gripping the base of his spit-slicked cock and guiding it between his ass cheeks.
“Wha… Minho…?” Jinki whimpered out, his cock swelling even further at just the thought of getting inside of Minho.
Minho’s eyes, however, were molten lava and Jinki was the unfortunate surface that the magma decided to land on.
“I’m gonna ride you so hard, Jinki.”
Jinki could have sworn he blacked out.
His hands moved to Minho’s hips to try and stop him because the younger hadn’t been prepared at all and Jinki’s cock was so big there was no way this was going to work, absolutely no way was Jinki’s cock going to -
“Fuck…!” Jinki hissed as the head of his cock breached Minho’s tight hole, slipping past the first ring of muscles into mind-obliterating tightness. His eyes slid over Minho’s body, Minho’s perfectly toned, athletic body, watching as the rapper clenched his jaw and seemed to focus himself on the task.
Not a peep came from the younger boy’s mouth, not a word nor a sound of discomfort even though it was obvious how much pain Minho was in. Jinki’s fingers dug into Minho’s hips before moving to wrap around his softening cock, stroking it back to life and Minho made a sound then, a low grunt as he seated himself completely on Jinki’s dick.
The leaders’ mind was blissfully blank, nothing registering save the pulsating vice grip around his own throbbing cock. He had never felt anything like it and to be honest had nothing to compare it to but for all he cared this was the best feeling in the entire world as his toes curled and his fingers flexed on that pale skin. Nothing could be better than this, nothing could feel better on his cock -
“Ah…!”
Minho rocked his body and set them in motion and alright, nothing could be better than that.
Jinki tried to stay focused, tried to run his hands over Minho’s sweaty body, fingers collecting the perspiration and spreading it over the slickening muscles. He tried to hold on to Minho, get some sort of grip and control the movements because Minho hadn’t lied when he said he was going to ride Jinki hard. The leader knew Minho was competitive and went for what he wanted with no stops but Jinki felt like his dick was going to break off at this pace.
Minho was relentless, though, his cock slapping his belly with every movement, the pre-cum drooling from the tip and sticking to his abs, leaving a thin trail from the muscles to the head of his cock. Jinki was entranced by that string, reaching out to break the strand and collect the pre-cum on his fingertip, bringing it to his lips to taste.
The rapper let out a low moan, feral and animalistic as it rumbled from his lips and Jinki glanced up to see those big eyes heated and so wet they were nearly black. Jinki’s breath hitched and Minho’s finger smeared the cum around Jinki’s lips like a lewd white lipstick, the leader letting out the sluttiest, most wanton moan he was capable of.
Physically, Jinki may have been the one fucking Minho.
But the absolute dominance and control that was just seeping out of Minho’s every pore, ever fiber of his being was undeniable, made Jinki realize that this was only happening because Minho wanted it to happen this way.
Oh God.
Parting his lips, Jinki took Minho’s fingers in his mouth, tongue sliding up and down and in between the digits as their eyes locked. An electric current shot through Jinki’s dick because damn if Minho looked hot when he was all angry and competitive, the way he looked while bouncing on Jinki’s cock was tenfold. A hundred fold.
His long legs were bent and his feet were planted in the cushions on either side of the leaders’ body, abs rippling and folding under his shiny skin. One hand was propped up on the armrest of the couch next to where Jinki’s head was lying, the other caught in Jinki’s hold with his fingers in the leaders’ mouth. His pale skin was flushed, his thigh muscles were flexing with the exertion, a line dipping down the side of each of his quads from where his muscles were straining against the skin. And finally the look on his face, sweat dripping down his nose and making his brow shimmer, his big eyes staring Jinki down, his ass swallowing his cock whole; Jinki knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for.
Licking his lips, Jinki wrapped his fingers around Minho’s cock, gripping the shaft and giving awkward, frenzied thrusts. Minho felt hot, heavy, impossibly hard in Jinki’s fingers and it was just… hypnotic, watching his fingers slide over the flesh, watching the pearly liquid gather at the tip. Minho himself was just a drug and as Jinki’s hips started to snap up to meet Minho’s rocking, the rappers’ chin dropped to his chest, his breath coming out in short huffs. Together they were coming undone and Minho was so tight, so damn tight, a vacuous vice grip on Jinki’s dick and Jinki’s fingers tightened that much more, pinching the base of Minho’s cock before trailing down to his balls, rolling them around in his palm. This had all been so sudden, Minho’s advances and Jinki’s submission, that Jinki was honestly surprised that he’d lasted this long.
A jolt went through Jinki’s body and curled his toes, throwing the previous thought out the window.
“M-Minho…” Jinki mumbled around the rappers’ fingers. Minho removed them from Jinki’s lips, curling them wetly into Jinki’s hair. With his grip he forced Jinki’s head to the side, leaning down to graze his teeth over the exposed flesh. “Ah… I’m close…”
He could feel the smirk against his skin and hear the satisfaction in Minho’s voice.
“Good.”
Suddenly, it felt like Minho’s asshole shrunk to half its size, and Jinki saw the younger man’s entire body clench before Jinki’s vision went white, then black. His hips spasmed and he felt like each one of his nerves was having its own orgasm as he rode his out, feeling his cum gather inside Minho’s hole and surround his cock.
Jinki collapsed bonelessly and regained his breath, staring up at Minho and still clearly lost in the pleasure. Minho’s smirk was visible now as he pulled off of Jinki’s cock; a mixture of blood and cum seeped out of his stretched hole, dripping onto Jinki’s stomach and thighs as Minho leaned against the opposite armrest, stroking his cock leisurely, unaffected by the previous pain.
“Hyung.”
Jinki barely regained consciousness, blinking his eyes open and staring at Minho’s fingers that were entrancing as they moved up and down his erection.
“Hyung.”
Minho said it a bit more firm this time and Jinki blinked, clearing the fog from his brain. Looking up, Jinki licked his lips and finally registered the leftover pre-cum coating them, and he kinda sorta knew what Minho wanted but his mind was still hazy.
“Hyung…” Minho’s smirk turned into a softer smile, his fingers crooking once he saw he had Jinki’s attention. “Suck me.”
Despite the fact that Jinki had never done something like that before, he complied without hesitation, moving his lead-weight body and shifting to get between Minho’s legs, his lips stretching thin around the head as he took in Minho’s cock.
The taste wasn’t bad. Actually it was just salty skin and Jinki didn’t mind that. Minho’s drug was still in his veins, intoxicating him and pulling him in further and further. Jinki started to suck, his cheeks hollowing and Minho had been close before, so surely it wouldn’t take too long -
“Fuck.”
Minho’s hands moved to grip both sides of Jinki’s head, holding him in place as his cock fucked all the way into Jinki’s throat. The leader tried to relax, he knew it would go easier if he did but his gag reflex refused to get out of the way. With each bump of Minho’s cock to the back of Jinki’s throat the muscles constricted and spasmed around it.
The rappers’ eyes rolled into the back of his head and his grip tightened in Jinki’s hair, forcing his head away. Confused, Jinki opened his eyes and parted his lips to ask what was wrong, but before he could get anything out Minho jerked his cock a few quick times and his cum spilled in hot sticky ropes, onto Jinki’s nose, left cheek, over his lips and to his chin. Some got in his hair and it was hot, it was uncomfortably warm when it hit his skin and he closed his eyes and tried to move away - Minho’s grip in his hair tightened to keep him in place as he milked the rest of his orgasm, a few more ropes hitting Jinki’s face before Minho slumped back against the armrest with a long exhale.
Jinki cracked an eye open and once he deemed it safe to just open them he took in Minho’s completely sated form, a glitter in his eyes that had been so dim lately with his injury. And Jinki, despite the cum on his face, despite his completely debauched appearance, let out a soft smile as he regarded the rapper with nothing but affection.
“You look good like that,” Minho said, gesturing idly with a hand before he reached out with a finger to smear the cum on Jinki’s cheek, rubbing it into his skin like a lotion. “Mmmm.”
Jinki’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment, he felt his neck and his ears go red as he reached up to wipe the cum away - Minho’s fingers caught his wrist before he could touch himself and Minho yanked Jinki up, the two chest to chest again as Minho’s tongue darted out and he started to carefully clean up his mess, finishing it with a deep, languid kiss to Jinki’s lips.
The leader just whimpered slightly, heart hammering in his chest once again as their lips locked for the first time, tasting each other and Minho’s cum and ok so it wasn’t the most glorious kiss but it was… warm and inviting and Jinki for once felt like his questions (or prayers) had been answered.
The kiss broke and Jinki looked up into Minho’s big, sweet eyes and smiled a bit lopsidedly, to which Minho just grinned back and snuggled Jinki down into his chest, kissing the top of his head as they got comfortable and started to snooze.
Jinki loved falling in love with Minho.
He loved it because Minho loved him back, Minho cared for him and he loved it most of all because…
“Saranghae.” Minho whispered against Jinki’s hair just before they fell asleep.
He loved it most of all because this beautiful man who had all of those hyungs, all of those nunas, had chosen him.
And ready or not, they were on this road together, to see where it led them.
For now, though, Minho shifted and winced, some of Jinki’s weight resting on his injured leg. Jinki woke up and immediately sat up, putting more of his weight on Minho’s leg and the athlete let out a low hiss of pain and Jinki apologized, sputtering as he leapt off of Minho’s body to hurriedly pull on his boxers and run into the kitchen, effectively emptying almost the entire contents of the freezer and ruining Key’s color organized dish towel drawer in order to get Minho some ice, which the rapper accepted and tried to assure Jinki that he was fine and they could just move to a bed in order to sleep in a more comfortable position.
Jinki loved falling in love with Minho.
He loved it, because he didn’t hate it.