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Jisung looked bigger on stage. Not his breadth or his height, but he appeared larger than life. He was beautiful and magnetic and the epitome of someone that deserved to be on stage, performing for thousands, worshipped and adored. It filled Minho with pride, but it also filled him with an emotion he couldn’t name; the knowledge that Jisung, Han, looked like this to his fans, and to Minho he was so cute. Boyish. Big-eyed and sweet, petulant at times, so expressive he hurt to look at. Minho saw Jisung’s talent, his backbreaking effort to climb to the top and stay there, his genius, his creativity –
He saw it all. A lot of people saw it. But the smaller side of Jisung, the oversized shirts, mismatched socks, americano-guzzling loser that choked on anything bigger than a grape – that was for Minho alone. He saw that Jisung even as he performed on stage between Chan and Changbin. The hesitation in his movement that said he’d stayed awake too long the night before, slouched over his laptop, the long bruise on his forearm that fans would worry about, that Minho had been told was from slipping on his hotel balcony, because Jisung had to sit and write in the rain. Because it was romantic. Because he was romantic, and halfway across the world, and he missed his boyfriend.
No one but Minho knew that either.
Chan and Changbin didn’t count, soul-merged with Jisung as they were, but outside of their tight circle and the only slightly wider circle of their friends, Minho was the only one that knew.
HJS:
my interview is soon aaaaaa
LMH:
We practiced yesterday, didn’t we?
You’ll do great~
I believe in you
HJS:
can we practice again real quick?
Minho winced. It was barely ten in the morning for Jisung, but for Minho it was nearing dinner time. He needed an excuse - the noise of the airport would be too obvious.
LMH:
Myungjae asked for an extra session, I’m sorry
I’ll be at the gym for at least another couple of hours
HJS:
hi Myungjae!!!!
that’s ok I’m being stupid
thanks anyway hyung
LMH:
Stop it
You’re never stupid
I wish I could call you. I would if I could.
HJS:
never stupid?
what about when I got my hand stuck in the drain
LMH:
You have been stupid one time
HJS:
hahaha
love u hyungie
LMH:
I love you too
Break a leg but don’t really. Because I’d be pissed
HJS:
at least I could come home to you☹
LMH:
You don’t mean that. You love touring.
HJS:
I love you more
LMH:
I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?
HJS:
say it back☹☹☹
LMH
You have been stupid two times*
I love you. Very much.
A crackly overhead announcement makes Minho perk up, eyeing the board. His flight hasn’t been delayed, which is a relief even if he isn’t in a particular rush, with a ten hour layover on the other end of the first flight. At least he has a hotel booked.
BC:
Everything good?
LMH:
Looks to be so far, hyung
BC:
Awesome. Keep me in the loop!
LMH:
I will! See you soon.
BC:
See you soon! Safe journey.
-
True to his word, Yongbok posted a couple of videos to Minho’s TikTok in order to keep up the ruse. Minho had left with a handful of clips in reserve: some weight training, some self-defence, and one widely requested homemade pesto recipe.
Minho wasn’t as famous as Jisung – obviously. He wasn’t touring venues that held tens of thousands. He wasn’t front page news. But he did have an alarming number of followers on apps he wasn’t sure exactly how to use, mainly because of one dance cover performed with his colleagues at the gym that went viral and started a trend. That was how they’d met – a dance cover. Minho had danced to 3racha, and Jisung’s eloquent, not-at-all endearing comment had been a thumbs up from their official music account and a brief, ‘woah so cool!!!!’
Minho had messaged first, and remained smitten since. Jisung, always an open book to Minho, had been just as bad, and really, Minho couldn’t complain about TikTok for that alone. Minho’s job wasn’t by any means social media based, but the extra revenue was a welcome cushion. It allowed him a little leeway with his routine. It allowed him to buy premium economy plane tickets to surprise his boyfriend on the other side of the world.
As soon as Minho let himself into the hotel room for his layover he collapsed onto the bed, bone tired. The room was tiny, basic, bland, but it was a hotel airport. It was good enough for the ten hours he had before his second flight, and the shower ran blisteringly hot, which Minho let himself enjoy for almost half an hour before changing into sweats and one of Jisung’s older tour shirts.
He'd pressed the button to call Jisung before he thought about it, before he considered the time.
Jisung picked up with a hissed whisper. “Hyung, why the hell are you awake at four in the morning?”
“It’s nice to hear your voice too, Jisungie. My night was lovely, I can’t wait to-”
“Hyung, you need to sleep!”
Minho had spent hours asleep on the plane, his chin tucked against his neck. His back hurt now. His ass hurt from sitting down for so long. He didn’t even know the current time difference between them, but outside his hotel window the sky was dark. “I wanted to hear your voice.”
Jisung’s breath shuddered out of him.
“How’d the interview go?” Minho asked softly. “Tell hyung about your day.”
“I think it went well, but I guess I won’t really know until it comes out.”
“When is that?”
“Next Friday.”
Minho hummed and made a note on his arm with the hotel pen. Once he hung up he could put it into his phone’s calendar. “I’ll rate you out of ten.”
Jisung laughed, but it faded quickly into a sad noise Minho didn’t like. “Jagiya I want to stay on the phone, I do, but-”
“My baby is busy,” Minho finished for him. “That’s fine. It’s okay, Jisung-ah. Do what you have to do.”
“We’re at a party. I’m networking.” Jisung groaned. “I don’t like it; I don’t like this bit.”
Minho couldn’t hear party sounds, so presumably Jisung had stepped away. “Are Channie-hyung and Changbinnie taking good care of you?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
Minho hummed sympathetically. “Go back to your party, Jisungie. I’ll be awake for a while now, just text me if you need to.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Anytime. Love you.”
“You too. Bye bye.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
Once Minho put his phone down, the hotel room felt worse. Despite his words, he did try to close his eyes and nap, the notification for Jisung on the highest volume setting. He gave up within ten minutes, though Jisung hadn’t text.
The silence was loud. The room was too hot. Minho couldn’t think about anything other than Jisung at a party full of people he didn’t know. Though his anxiety was better than ever, he was still an introvert in a musical trio with two extroverts. It wasn’t easy in his own country, never mind internationally. Minho would struggle too. Most people would.
LMH:
Hyung really loves you
Jisung didn’t reply for a while, so Minho struggled off the bed and turned on the sad looking coffee machine. If anything was a bad idea it was coffee, but he needed something to do. Reading wouldn’t help. He could go to the gym downstairs, but he didn’t want to ache even more on the next flight.
HJS:
I really love you too
sooo much
miss you so bad
aaaaa HYUNG
LMH:
WHAT
HJS:
this isn’t fair
I want to come home
are you still in bed?
Minho was close enough to the bed that he didn’t feel guilt when he confirmed that he was all snuggled up.
HJS:
I wish I was there with you
Changbin has a nice chest to rest my head on
But it isn’t the SAME
The urge to admit his journey rose up, but Minho fought it down. The surprise would be worthwhile, and Jisung would definitely give up on numerous plans if he knew Minho was en route. It was horrible, though, to read Jisung’s sad messages and be unable to offer any substantial comfort.
LMH:
You’re crazy if you think I don’t miss you in the same way
Our apartment is dark and quiet
Where’s my boyfriend’s singing?
Where’s the smell of the toast he always burns?
Where are the crumbs in the sink?
Where’s the dirty laundry?
HJS:
you miss a very strange selection of things about me
LMH:
I miss the constant evidence that you live with me.
HJS:
…
that was so weirdly romantic I went lightheaded
LMH:
Are you drunk?
HJS:
nah I’ve had like 3 beers in 3 hours
what else does hyung miss
LMH:
Typical.
HJS:
so what if I want praise!!!!
LMH:
Send me a pic and I’ll give it to you.
Selfish, maybe, but Minho had never pretended to be otherwise when it came to Jisung. He watched the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again, and by the time he made it back into the hotel bed with his sludgy coffee, Jisung still hadn’t sent anything.
LMH:
Stop overthinking and send me the pic
HJS:
I have a spot on my forehead
LMH:
I’ve popped spots on your back.
We’ve been together for two years.
SHOW ME MY BOYFRIEND
HJS:
FINE!
The photo that Jisung sent was definitely new, definitely at his party. The lighting was bad, but his sweet face was as perfect as always, spot and all. How it was possible to exist with such big, pretty eyes taking up half of his face was something Minho would never understand. His hair was getting a little too long and unruly – how long had they been apart now? Over a month, closer to five weeks than four. Jisung looked sulky, like Minho had bullied him into taking the photo.
LMH:
Ah, there he is
Gorgeous
My gorgeous Jisungie
HJS:
your turn
Minho pursed his lips. Put his phone down. Took a sip of his awful coffee.
HJS:
your turnnnnn
hyunngggggggg
Minho could send a photo back, but he’d have to lie down. Jisung wouldn’t recognise the headboard, and that would make him spiral. He wouldn’t recognise the sheets either. Did they have white sheets at home? Most were grey, but they did have a spare set that was white. Minho could say he’d stained the others if he had to.
HJS:
HYUNGGGGGGGGG
Jisung was in public. But it was at night, he was at a party. People would be drunk. People would be high. Jisung was extremely private – he wouldn’t show anyone his phone screen if there was a gun to his head.
Minho turned on his front camera and angled it down. He used his left hand to cup his soft cock through his sweats, lifting just enough that the outline was obvious. His watch glinted in the low light, but he looked closely at the image to make sure none of the hotel room was reflected in the surface. He knew Jisung would look closely too, so he had to be sure. He sent the photo then put his phone face down on the bed and took another sip of his coffee, smiling as his phone chimed once, twice, a third time. Paused. Then again, once more.
HJS:
omg
what is WRONG WITH YOU IM IN PUBLIC
anyone could have seen that
hyung I miss ur cock so fucking bad wtf
Minho giggled, rolling onto his side to stare at the messages. His ears burned, but he loved it. He loved Jisung so much it felt ridiculous at times, to be this dumb about it two years in. In less than twenty four hours they’d be together again.
HJS:
I literally twitched in my pants you’re foul
these jeans are too tight hyung my dick will fall off if I get hard
circulation is so bad nooo
Then, when Minho kept staring, so fond he forgot to reply:
HJS:
that better not be it come on
Minho’s giggles turned into cackles. He wanted to send I love you I love you I love you – but that wasn’t what Jisung needed. Not right now, anyway.
LMH:
If you want something else you have to be specific
HJS:
show me my best friend
Minho splayed himself across the sheets and sent Jisung a photo of his eyes, his raised brows, his forehead.
HJS:
I meant your erection
Minho couldn’t wait to be in the same room as Jisung again. Jisung became so bratty when they were apart, with the prospect of punishment far away and distant. In person he was more docile, more giving. He yielded easily beneath Minho’s gentle touch.
HJS:
hyung please
LMH:
I thought you were in public?
HJS:
I am
no one else has to know
LMH:
Give me a reason to get hard
The typing bubble popped up and disappeared again. Minho had sat up and drained the rest of his coffee by the time Jisung replied with another photo.
This one was a mirror selfie. The bathroom was huge, marble, and a little too showy for Minho’s taste. Too open for Jisung’s, clearly, as his shoulders were hunched slightly, obviously wary of someone walking in. But he was pretty. So pretty. In his day-to-day life Jisung didn’t tend to enjoy tight clothing, but for this party he’d made an exception: his jeans were tight against his slim hips, and his forest green, satin shirt was only slightly oversized, tucked securely at his waist. His belt was huge . His shirt was open far too low. His hair was too long, but it was styled perfectly around his face in loose curls. He looked stunning. He was perfect. Minho was so fucking proud of him.
LMH:
Next time you go out like that, wear a turtleneck underneath.
HJS:
controlling much
LMH:
What if a vampire eats you
HJS:
I’ll turn into a vampire and turn you too and then we can be annoying together forever
SHOW ME YOUR COCK
LMH:
I can’t believe my boyfriend is a slut
HJS:
my shirt is unbuttoned or I show hole you choose
LMH:
You barely show ME hole
HJS:
I will become confident out of spite
LMH:
I look forward to seeing your hole on the big screen one day
Han Jisung hole fighting!
HJS:
you are the worst person I know
Minho slipped his hand into his sweats and cupped himself. When he sent the photo of his watch catching on the elasticated band of his pants, Jisung’s reply was immediate.
HJS:
YOURE THE WOOOORST
PLEEEAAAAASE
LMH:
Dressed like that you could find anyone willing to give you what you want.
Minho could practically hear Jisung’s petulant wailing. He stroked himself, loose and easy, waiting for Jisung to reply. He stared at the photo a little longer, one Jisung would never post online, one Minho could save and obsess over with all of the other photos of Jisung that were his alone. His pretty boyfriend. Jisung’s slender fingers holding the edge of his phone, the promise ring he wore on his right hand as not to raise suspicion. His rosebud mouth, his big eyes, his wide shoulders, his skinny thighs. Minho felt his cock twitch as he hardened. It didn’t take much. It never did with Jisung in sight.
HJS:
I don’t want anyone else hyung
Do you think I’d be with a TikTok star if I had a say in who I love
LMH:
Brat.
HJS:
bumpin that
Minho moved his hand down and pressed against his perineum. He bit back a moan and let Jisung’s text linger there, no reply. His hips rocked up as he encircled his cock again and thought about how annoying Jisung would be when they met again, how long it would take to break him back down into the perfect boy he was at home – how much they loved it, the process off it, the breakdown and the rebuilding, the constant intensity that hadn’t ever faded.
HJS:
don’t say I ruined the mood hyung
sorry☹
LMH:
My mood isn’t ruined.
HJS:
really?
It was obvious bait, but for once Minho let Jisung have it. Kind of. He sent the photo Jisung wanted – kind of. His sweatpants were still on, but this time the print clearly showed an erection.
HJS:
wa
my mouth just watered that’s so embarrassing
hyung
I seriously miss your cock so bad it’s crazy
LMH:
What about my beautiful personality?
HJS:
that too but I can talk to you on the phone
the ghost of your cock haunts my guts
LMH:
the ghost of your guts haunts my cock
HJS:
that’s so romantic
are you leaking
will you show me the tip
Minho snorted. He shoved his pants down and spat in his hand to stroke himself again, the slide easier, a little tighter. They’d definitely done worse than this before, but it felt especially illicit with Jisung in such a public setting, with Minho in an unknown location. Jisung thought that whatever happened right now would be the end of it, but Minho knew better. His first stop after his last flight was to buy a gallon of lube and the largest pack of condoms available.
LMH:
Give hyung something nice to think about
HJS:
I’m back in the function room now
lots of people are dancing
I think there’s some strippers coming later, but I was going to leave before then
The image made Minho grunt, his hand tightening for a second as real, deep arousal pulsed through his abdomen. Jisung was deeply romantic, but deeper still was his love of humiliation. Minho could just imagine how strippers would make him feel.
LMH:
You don’t want to stay and watch the strippers?
You should.
HJS:
but I’d get hard and feel weird about it
LMH:
There’s nothing to feel weird about.
It’s normal, right? Beautiful naked people being paid to be beautiful and naked?
Getting hard is showing appreciation
HJS:
if it’s not you it’d still feel weird
LMH:
You want hyung to strip for you?
Jisung’s replies stopped, which was fine, because Minho knew they were thinking about exactly the same thing: Jisung, all big eyes and clenched hands, sat on a chair in the middle of an open room, with Minho right in front of him. Maybe he could give Jisung a lap dance, so close but untouchable – Jisung would go crazy. He’d probably cry. Minho was a little surprised they hadn’t thought about it before.
LMH:
Ah, hyung wants to strip for you
Want to watch you get all squirmy
Want to watch you get hard and feel weird about it
HJS:
you’re pure evil
I’m not staying for the strippers
LMH:
you can if you want to jagiya
hyung won’t be mad
HJS:
I don’t want to I am loyal to my wife
LMH:
Is she prettier than me?
HJS:
haha
hyung
Jisung was getting worked up. Poor angel. His answers always became awkward and blunt when he was unsure of what to do, where to go next.
LMH:
yes baby
HJS:
ah
Minho finally sent Jisung what he wanted: a real dick pic, his cock hard and wet and red in his hand, precum pearling at the tip.
Jisung didn’t respond for a long time. Minho was fine with that, stroking himself just enough to tease, his abdomen warm and tense. The fact that sexting was this hot with Jisung was odd, it was – something of a miracle, to find a partner where sexting wasn’t a tedious chore while they were apart. Sexting was for horny teenagers, first loves, and – Minho and Jisung, apparently, who were old enough to think of more exciting ways to get off in each other’s absence, but didn’t need to, because this was still good.
HJS:
hyung’s cock is so perfect
LMH:
Where are you now?
HJS:
at a table with Chan-hyung
Changbin is flirting with someone across the room, we’re watching
LMH:
Who is he flirting with?
HJS:
idk a model
he’s taller than Changbin but the bar is low
LMH:
and what is jisungie doing?
HJS:
praying for my sanity and my dick in these jeans
LMH:
I gave you what you wanted, and you don’t even appreciate it.
HJS:
I do
thank you hyung
I feel kinda pathetic now
at a huge party with famous people
and I’m
like
fighting down an erection staring at a photo of your cock
LMH:
Not pathetic
Cute.
You’re so cute
Wish you were here riding me
HJS:
ahhhhhh
ah
hyung
LMH:
Wish I had you splayed across the sheets
Wish I had my fingers in your throat
Wish I had my pretty boy’s head between my legs
HJS:
I am losing the war against my erection
Minho couldn’t help but laugh, even as he bucked into his hand. He let Jisung stew a moment, closing his eyes and imagining exactly what he’d said: Jisung sprawled across the bed, hands linked above his head, Jisung leant back against Minho’s chest as he gagged on Minho’s fingers, Jisung knelt between Minho’s legs, choking on his cock. Despite Minho’s efforts to draw everything out, he was getting close to the edge. Jisung felt pathetic, but he wasn’t the one in a lonely hotel room, close to an orgasm just from imagining his boyfriend.
HJS:
hyung
LMH:
Hyung is right here
You’re so fucking cute Jisungie
Can’t stop thinking about fucking you
HJS:
I’m thinking about hyung fucking me
I love it
when you fuck me doggy style and pull my head up by my hair
LMH:
Need to try it in front of the mirror in the lounge
Make you watch while I fuck you dumb
HJS:
I want that
embarrassing but I want it
LMH:
When you see me again what do you want first
How do you want it
HJS:
everything
everywhere
LMH:
Explain.
HJS:
I can’t
LMH:
You can.
You will
Hyung asked you to
HJS:
I want to kiss you first
I’m a loser I miss that the most
hyung’s mouth
I want you to eat me out I wa
I want to ride you
want to suck your cock
want to lick your cum off your stomach
want you to fuck me against the wall, I wanna be fucked on the floor
want to fuck you too hyung it’s been so long
LMH:
You think you deserve it?
HJS:
doesn’t matter hyung will let me anyway
let me bend your legs and watch your pretty cock bob as I fuck you
want my tongue in your ass, on your balls
I tried the fleshlight you bought me but its no good hyung it doesn’t feel real
LMH:
Doesn’t feel like me?
HJS:
nothing does
are you close?
LMH:
So close
How is my Jisungie?
HJS:
envious of your ambidexterity when it comes to sexting and jerking off
hard
unable to leave the table because I’m hard
it’s great I’m so great
LMH:
You’re being such a brat
I’ll have to address that when I see you next
HJS:
whenever that is
LMH:
make me come
HJS:
how??
LMH:
That’s for you to decide
Get creative. Hyung needs you
Minho was left on his own for a couple of minutes. He fucked into his hand without any real rhythm, sloppy and fast, moaning on every exhale as he thought of Jisung trapped at a table in a busy room, so hard his jeans cut into his cock, typing with shaking fingers. Perfect boy. The almost unbearable tight heat of his ass, the squelch of his throat, the spit that coated his neck –
Jisung sent a photo. He’d made his way back to the bathroom, somehow, and locked himself in a surprisingly spacious cubicle. He was holding his phone at a high angle above his head, and he had his fucking fingers in his mouth, pink tongue poking out, the opal in his promise ring glinting, the outline of his erection visible, the long line of his body, his legs, the low opening of his shirt –
HJS:
I’d give anything for you to be here
hyung would make me feel better
Minho came with a ragged moan, cum shooting all over his shirt, almost up to his chest. He kept fucking his fist for a couple more minutes on the slow comedown, oversensitive and still so fucking eager to shove Jisung to his knees in that pristine bathroom and give him everything he needed.
Because he wasn’t entirely cruel, Minho sent Jisung a photo of the aftermath: his ruined shirt, his softening cock against his hip. Then another: his sweaty face, red ears, undeniably fond gaze.
Jisung called.
Surprised, Minho picked up, still panting. “Thank you, baby.”
“Hyung.” Jisung’s voice came out quiet. “Hyung, I’m so- I don’t know what to do, I can’t go back out there like this, but people keep coming into the bathroom, I can’t jerk off here!”
“You don’t need to,” Minho crooned. “You just need a little friction, right? Like when you use my thigh. Sit down, jagiya, and rub yourself through your briefs.”
Jisung’s whine cut off as soon as a door outside of the cubicle creaked. “I can’t,” he whispered. “My pants.”
“Your jeans are dark, no one will see if you soak through.”
“Hyung.”
“You know where I’d touch,” Minho said. “You know where you need to focus to come. If you really try you’ll be finished in minutes, won’t you? Press the heel of your palm against the tip and let your hips do the work.”
“I can’t, I can’t-”
“Hyung is telling you what to do to make it all better. You need to listen.”
He heard Jisung’s zipper, then the soft rustle of fabric. Someone outside started up the hand drier, and Jisung used the excuse to moan softly.
Minho’s spent cock twitched. “You think you’re the only one at this party that’s going to get off tonight? You’re probably not the only one right now, Jisungie. Maybe Changbin has taken that model somewhere. Maybe Chan-hyung is on the phone with Yongbokkie in a different part of the building, twitching in his hand. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re feeling good. Do you feel good?”
“So good,” Jisung whispered. “I miss you, I miss you-”
“Not long now,” Minho whispered back. “Hyung will have you fucked and bred in no time, hm?”
“Please.”
“We can do all of your favourite things. We can try something new – I wanna be wrist deep, Jisungie, what do you think?”
The noise Jisung made was alarmed and so adorably excited.
“Yeah?” Minho asked warmly. “Want hyung’s fist? Want a dildo the size of my arm? I wanna see you all stretched out, baby, wanna see you so used that you feel like it’s all you’re alive for, it was what you were made for-”
“Hyung I’m gonna-”
“Come on,” Minho encouraged, “Come on, that’s it. Let go for hyung.”
Jisung came with a weak, cut off gasp. He shuddered one long breath, and then the call cut.
Minho blinked down at it, startled.
Seconds later a photo came through, of Jisung’s hand covered in cum, pearly and cute, dripping from his fingers.
LMH:
Perfect
Go back to your hotel and get a bath, Jisungie
Relax after your long day, you’ve worked hard enough.
HJS:
I don’t want to be at the hotel, I feel the most alone then
Minho understood. Even now, with his own cum cooling on his shirt, he felt Jisung’s absence as a harsh ache in his chest. At least he knew the absence would end soon – Jisung didn’t know. His upset was very real and very justified.
LMH:
if you don’t want to stay for the strippers then go watch a movie
I’m going to sleep now, and I’d love an update when I wake up
HJS:
I’ll go to the movies then
love you so much hyung
thank you for the first satisfying orgasm of my month
LMH:
You’re welcome, I love you too
Minho fell asleep before he could think of a more heartfelt reply, and woke up to his alarm blaring. He was sticky and a little crusty, and eternally glad he’d left himself time for another shower before his flight.
There were fifteen messages from Jisung updating Minho on the movie he’d gone to see with Chan and Changbin. It sounded ass. Jisung had a great time. Minho couldn’t have asked for more.
-
“You’re cutting it close,” Chan said, passing the keycard over as Minho strode through the lobby. “Changbin said their Uber is five minutes away. Room twenty, floor eighteen.”
“Thank you, hyung,” Minho said, pulse hammering as he jabbed at the call button on the elevator. His second flight had been delayed by two hours, which meant pacing and stressing and constant communication with Chan to ensure this all worked. They’d taken Jisung to an exhibit Minho had wanted to visit with him, but in the end it was worthwhile to keep him out of the hotel room a little longer.
Chan moved back from the elevator as Minho stepped inside. He looked exhausted but good, and like he had absolutely no idea that Yongbok was planning the same trick the next time they toured internationally. “Have fun, stay safe, etcetera.”
“Thank you, hyung.” Minho waved as the doors shut, then began his ascent.
With the timing all off, he didn’t have time to go through any of his prep. He couldn’t dress in anything nice, because that meant digging through his case. He didn’t have time to shower or douche, which sucked. He didn’t have time to find a local florist, or order cheesecake to the room, or do anything, really, other than shove his case into the closet, take off his shoes, and then sit like an old man at the edge of the huge bed, breathing weakly as panic struggled against excitement. Of course Jisung would be happy to see Minho. Sure he hated surprises, but not a surprise like this. Surely he’d be excited too. Maybe ridiculously horny. Maybe they’d fuck immediately, as soon as the door opened. Maybe they’d fight. Maybe Jisung would get back hungry and go to the restaurant and Minho would be left waiting for forty minutes as Jisung deliberated over which pasta dish he wanted to give him heartburn.
The lock chimed and the door opened.
Jisung was texting someone, his eyes on his phone as he leant back against the door to shut it. He was visibly tired and so, so sweet.
Minho’s phone chimed loudly from the incoming message.
Jisung froze. He looked up with his huge, wide eyes, and saw Minho, who was still hunched on the bed like a weird old man.
Minho didn’t know what to expect. A scream, maybe, or Jisung immediately pulling his clothes off. “Surprise!”
Jisung’s lower lip wobbled. “Hyung?”
“Oh, baby.” Minho scrambled off the bed just as Jisung started sobbing. “Come here Jisungie, come on.”
Jisung cried into his neck as soon as Minho got his arms around him. “How’re you here!”
“Hyung is mean and nasty and planned a surprise.” Minho nuzzled into Jisung’s hair. “Jerked off in a hotel all alone thinking about you. Spilled coffee on myself as I got ready for my second flight because I was shaking so hard thinking about holding you again. Missed you so much, baby.”
“I missed you too,” Jisung said, still crying. His whole frame shook, his hands like claws in the back of Minho’s shirt. “Thank you for coming to see me, thank you, thank you.”
“I’ll be with you for two weeks.”
Jisung sobbed harder, clung harder. “Thank you.”
Minho kissed his head. “You’re welcome. I love you.”
“I love you.”
“We love each other. That’s great, isn’t it?”
Jisung nodded. He snorted loudly, all wet and gross, and Minho couldn’t fight down his laugh. They didn’t have sex, they didn’t eat, they didn’t watch a movie or meet up with their friends. They climbed into bed after stripping all their clothes and then pressed against each other from head to foot and kissed until their lips were raw, until Minho’s tongue felt as at home in Jisung’s mouth as it did his own, until they were delirious with each other and unwilling to move at all.
He didn’t check the message until much, much later.
HJS:
just got back to my hotel room, I really wish you were here
-
An article went viral the following night, of Minho spotted in the audience at one of the 3racha concerts.
Yongbok posted another god forsaken prerecorded TikTok the next day, three minutes long, Minho’s voiceover neutral as he sat behind his laptop and his cats climbed all over him.
Watch me plan a trip to surprise my boyfriend halfway around the world!