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They met when they were kids. He was so exhilarated to be understood, to have connected some loose circuitry and finally feel his energy flowing like it was supposed to. He never thought about that feeling, bright and alive with electricity, safe and complete, as something that could be romantic.
He truly never thought about it. Jisung was one thing, so he probably wasn’t another.
But he was wrong. Jisung has always been everything he could be, everything at once. A chameleon, a many-limbed cephalopod, a jack of all trades, a genius. Minho’s best friend, his longest companion, his greatest source of annoyance, of anxiety. His family, his dongsaeng. And now, the focal point of his desire.
Of course. Of course if anyone could push and pull at Minho’s emotions, his subconscious, his sex drive, it would be clever, oblivious, determined Jisung.
When Jisung announces that his male TA wants to date him, Minho nosedives into an obsessive spiral. He can't fight his own jealousy, the dense tangle of his repressed desire, or the increasing awareness that maybe they've been more than friends all along.
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Bookmarked by CrumblingFool
09 Jul 2026
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“I’m sorry, Jisungie. I wish hyung could fix it,” Minho placates. That’s another thing their friends constantly make fun of him for – always coming to Jisung’s rescue. When Jisung has a problem, Minho fixes it.
Suddenly, Jisung sits up, looking at Minho with something unreadable in his eyes. Minho’s hand falls out of his hair and into Jisung’s lap instead. It’s warm.
“Hyung,” Jisung says very seriously. He scoops Minho’s hand up in both of his own. Minho has always loved the fact that here, only here, Jisung is bigger than him. He noticed it for the first time in high school, when Jisung was pulling him through a crowd after a concert. Minho is taller than him, and broader, but something about holding Jisung’s hand makes him feel small. Taken care of. “What if you could?”
Minho blinks once. Twice. Three times. Jisung stares down at him, waiting for him to process. When Minho can’t possibly think of how he could be assistance, he asks “what do you mean?”
“Fuck me,” Jisung says simply.
Bookmarked by CrumblingFool
07 Jul 2026
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Jisung really needs a sugar daddy. Like, desperately, bro.
Bookmarked by CrumblingFool
01 Jul 2026
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“Minho, listen to me. Whatever you do, don’t bite him, okay?”
“Bite,” Minho repeats foggily, liking the way the word feels in his mouth, between his teeth.
“I wouldn’t usually be concerned about your control, but with you two…”
“Us two.” He thinks about it. He’s never let himself think of them as an us before. Jisung continues to linger by the door, so close, painfully close. Within claiming distance. Just a scant inch or two of door between them.
“He’s your blind spot,” Chan says matter-of-factly.
“Blind spot?”
There’s a short sigh. “This conversation is going nowhere. I’m coming over, okay? Minho? I’m coming.”
“Minho?” Jisung asks again, and he can feel himself smiling, sunning in the sound of his voice.
“Sung-ah,” Minho says warmly, phone slipping from his hand and thunking softly against the carpeted floor. “Omega.”
Jisung presents late, panics, and hides it from his friends. As the weeks pass, Minho is haunted by a mystery scent that calls to him like nothing ever has before.
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Bookmarked by CrumblingFool
30 Jun 2026
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Forced into a marriage he had no say in and humiliated by the coldness he finds there, Jisung makes it his mission to become a thorn in his husband’s carefully controlled life.
He’s a moth flying closer and closer to a flame—and he is just angry enough to dream of burning.
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Bookmarked by CrumblingFool
29 Jun 2026

