Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jisung had his guitar pick trapped between his teeth. He was lying over the arm of the couch, head tipped back and lazily strumming chords on his guitar in the studio. He didn’t even wince when he heard a loud banging. There were loud, muffled voices, an intense crash, and then footsteps stomping across the floor. 

“Keeho, wait. Please!” Chan yelled, but it was too late. A giant sigh left his lungs as the door slammed in his face.

Jisung was looking at him upside down when Chan turned to eye him with a scowl. 

“What?” Jisung asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Don’t you ‘what’ me. You just cost us another vocalist.” His voice was loud as he gestured to the door where Keeho just left. 

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” he denied, and Chan gave him a pointed glare. 

“He said on the way out, and I quote, ‘I’m leaving because of that asshole guitarist.’” 

Jisung laughed while Chan glowered at him. “Well, that’s not very nice now, is it?” 

Chan groaned, running a stressed hand through his hair. “We’ve gone through three singers in the past year, Jisung. Yunho, Beomgyu, and now Keeho.” 

He definitely blamed him without outright saying it. He could see the accusation in his eyes as he stared at him. That pissed Jisung off a little. 

“It’s not my fault they can’t take criticism.”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s a difference between constructive criticism and being rude,” he said, making Jisung roll his eyes. 

“I wasn’t being rude.” 

“Telling him he’s the shittiest singer you’ve ever worked with isn’t constructive, Jisung.”

Jisung shrugged his shoulders. Maybe if Keeho would listen, then he wouldn’t have said it. The two of them argued like crazy. Worse than Yunho or Beomgyu. But if he wasn’t going to take the band seriously, then Jisung didn’t want him to be a part of it. 

“Okay, whatever. How am I supposed to work with someone who’s constantly off-key and can’t hear that he’s not properly hitting the right notes?”

Chan sighed again, making his way over to sit in the studio chair. He looked at the ceiling as stress took over his features. 

“Fuck, where are we going to find a new singer in just five weeks?” he asked, clearly talking to himself. 

He had every right to be worried. They had a few important gigs coming up, and being down a vocalist wasn’t great. 

“I can sing,” Jisung suggested. 

“You can’t sing both parts,” he argued, and Jisung tried not to roll his eyes again. 

“Then Changbin can sing back up—”

“Changbin doesn’t like singing back up. We’ve already lost one member. I am not going to piss anyone else off.” 

Speaking of Changbin—he walked right in with his drumsticks threatening to fall from his back pocket and his black hat flipped backward on his head. 

“Yeah, I’m not singing back up.”

Chan gave him a soft smile, “I know.” 

“You’re late,” Jisung chided. Changbin slipped off his leather jacket and tossed it at him, hitting him right in the face. 

“By three minutes. That’s not even late.” He chuckled, seeing Jisung’s annoyed glare. “Where’s Keeho?”

Chan sighed deeply again. “He quit.”

“Good riddance,” Jisung mumbled quietly.

“Jisung—not now,” Chan warned him, making him shrug. 

Changbin still looked shocked, trying to process the information. 

“What do you mean he quit?” he asked, his eyes flicking over to Jisung. 

Jisung went back to strumming his chords, trying to ignore his eyes that were threatening daggers at him. 

“He quit,” Chan repeated, and Jisung could feel both of their eyes on him now. He heard Changbin stomp up to him, and he whined when he grabbed the neck of his guitar. 

“Hey—”

“What did you do?” 

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “Rude of you to assume that it’s my fault.”

“The last two quit with your name like a curse word on their tongues, so yeah, I’m assuming you said something,” he said, bringing their faces so close Jisung could smell the mint on his breath. 

“I didn’t do shit,” he hissed back, the two of them growling at each other. 

“Alright—knock it off. We have enough problems. I don’t need you two fighting, either.” 

Changbin smirked. “It wouldn’t be much of a fight.”

Jisung groaned as he rubbed his hand aggressively through his hair. 

“Get off me,” he complained, kicking at his thigh. 

Jisung was the youngest of their group, and as the youngest, he received the most teasing—primarily from Changbin. He loved to annoy him whenever he could, wrestling him into a headlock or grabbing at the neck of his guitar when he was practicing. 

Changbin sighed as he sat down next to Jisung, poking him with his drumstick to try and annoy him. Again.

“Well, what the hell are we going to do now?” he asked as Jisung went back to strumming. 

“I have no idea. We have three important gigs next month, one of them being the huge summer festival, and we need a vocalist,” Chan groaned, making Jisung mumble under his breath again.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if they didn’t have a lead vocalist. Jisung knew he was a better singer than any of the guys they brought in. But they still needed backup vocals, and Chan liked to have a main vocalist in the front of the stage. 

“Fuck—and there’s no changing Keeho's mind?” 

Chan shook his head. “I tried. But he said unless Jisung develops a new personality, he’s out.” 

That made the guitar pick fall out of his mouth.

“What?” he snapped, making Chan shrug. “He’s such a fucking drama queen. Maybe he should say that to my face and develop some ball—”

“I’ll ask around campus,” Changbin interrupted him. Jisung was fuming and could feel his face was bright red. 

Chan nodded, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I have a few friends I can ask—I’ll see if they know someone.” 

Jisung took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. On the bright side, he didn’t have to deal with Keeho's bitching and complaining all evening. 

“We have to get to practicing,” Jisung told them, standing up from the couch. He tuned his guitar and plugged it in, the sound waves shaking his core as he strummed, embracing the beautiful sound. 

He saw Changbin settling in behind the drumset and Chan grabbing his bass. Jisung felt the excitement overtake him as they practiced their setlist. 

He sounded good, and he knew it—especially when he played his solo perfectly. He loved the impressed look on Changbin’s face, smirking in his direction as they ended the song. 

“Damn, Hannie,” Changbin said, flipping the drumstick in his hand. “That sounded great.”

“I know,” he said, making Changbin chuckle.

He didn’t need to hear he was great. He knew he was. He worked hard to be perfect and made sure he always was. 

Chan and Changbin worked just as hard. Their band was made up of dedicated musicians who knew what it took to be the best. Their raw, natural talent had impressed Jisung from the beginning.

He met Chan in his first year of college after bursting in on him in one of the practice rooms in the music hall.  

Jisung was waiting impatiently. He hated it when people were late. He let five minutes go by before he lost his temper. He had limited practice time, and the guy who was still strumming away on his bass was testing him. He stormed into the room he had booked, startling him a little. 

“You’re five minutes over on time. I have this room booked from two to three,” he said, trying to kick him out. 

He was surprised when he smiled at him, even though he had just barged in. All he did was glance at the instrument on his back. 

“Do you play guitar?” 

Jisung had blinked at him, surprised by his question. It was obvious he played guitar since he had a guitar case slung over his shoulder. 

“No, flute,” he said sarcastically. 

The bass guitarist laughed, “That’s a pretty big flute.” 

Jisung was about to yell at him again to get out, but before he could, the guy reached into his bag and pulled out a flyer. 

“Here—if you’re interested, you should come try out for our band.” He smiled widely, and Jisung wasn’t sure why he took it.

He left without even telling him his name. 

He wasn’t planning on going to their try-outs. Every time he played in a band, it always ended in disaster. No one had the same passion as him. No one understood the importance of perfection. No one respected the art as much as he did. 

But Chan didn’t seem angry when he had burst in on him in the practice room—he had almost seemed intrigued. 

He immediately joined their band after he heard them play together. There was a connection he couldn’t describe, and the sounds pulled him in. 

They were perfect. 

Chan didn’t even listen to the other guitarists after he heard Jisung play. He asked him if he wanted to join right away. 

That’s why Jisung had zero tolerance for those who didn’t strive for excellence. And maybe he was a little harsh, but he needed to be. 

Because he didn’t need anyone bringing him down.

He wanted to make it big, and he didn’t have time for those who were satisfied with anything less than perfect. 

Jisung was strumming in the studio, practicing before Chan and Changbin showed up. It had been a week since Keeho had quit, and Chan was freaking out since there was only four weeks until the summer festival. 

Luckily, Changbin had texted the group chat, saying he found someone willing to fill in until they found a permanent vocalist. Jisung was already annoyed by that. If he wasn’t planning on being part of their group, there was no way he would take it seriously. 

He tried his best to focus on his guitar strings but got distracted when the door suddenly opened. He knew it couldn’t have been Chan or Changbin because if either of them had shown up fifteen minutes early, he’d think he switched to an alternate universe. 

He turned to see someone with big brown eyes looking about the studio curiously. His reddish-tinted hair was long and held back in a black headband, but a few strands still seemed to fall into his face. His pink lips were pursed, the top one sticking out a little more than the bottom. His bag was wrapped around his chest, and his hands grasped the strap. He blinked around the room, taking it in. 

Jisung’s heartbeat quickened, and the air refused to enter his lungs as he looked at him. He couldn’t believe it, but his beautiful face was captivating. Jisung had never had that thought about someone before, but this guy was so pretty, it was the first thing that came to his mind. 

But he quickly shook his head, clearing his head of those ridiculous thoughts. He scowled at him because he had no idea what this guy was doing, waltzing into their practice studio and interrupting his concentration.

“Hey—this studio is booked,” he said, causing the boy’s eyes to flick over at him. Jisung felt his breath hitch when their gazes connected, and that tiny smile of his made him bite the inside of his cheek. 

His eyes pierced into him, and Jisung felt a shiver run up his spine. 

“This is studio 95, right?” he asked, and Jisung would have narrowed his eyes at him if he wasn’t so captured by the way his soft voice sounded. It was like the stress from his day completely washed away just from hearing it. 

Jisung nodded his head because that was all he could seem to do. His body was frozen, with his hand grasping the neck of the guitar so tightly he thought he might snap the strings. Especially when he walked up to him, his smile widening with every step forward. 

“My name’s Minho. Changbin asked me to fill in for your band for a bit while you’re looking for a permanent vocalist.” 

That snapped Jisung out of whatever trance he was in, finally narrowing his eyes in his direction. Minho must have noticed, but his smile didn’t leave his lips. 

Jisung hated this idea. He didn’t want to work with someone who had no dedication to their band or their future. There was no reason to put in hard work if he was just going to be around for a couple of weeks. 

“So, you’re just a temp?” he asked, clearly annoyed. 

“I think I just said that, didn’t I?” 

Jisung’s eye twitched. He also felt his cheeks heating a little as Minho blinked at him with that ridiculous smile. His intense stare was kind of intimidating. It wasn’t often that Jisung was nervous under someone’s gaze. Not even when he was in front of a crowd. He loved the cheers and the mesmerized eyes. It gave him a beautiful rush and filled him with the thrill of being up on stage with tons of people watching him.

But for some reason, Minho’s eyes were making him nervous. 

He tore his gaze away and decided to go back to practicing. He was annoyed that he interrupted him in the first place. 

“So, what’s your name?” Minho asked, not taking the hint that Jisung had no interest in continuing their conversation. 

He let out a bothered sigh, and usually, that would piss people off, and they would leave him alone, but Minho was still blinking at him with those stupidly big eyes and his pretty boy smile. 

“Jisung,” he answered curtly, and Minho stretched out a hand. 

“Well, Jisung, I look forward to working with you,” he said sweetly.

Jisung just stared at it, flicking his eyes up to catch a glimpse of his face. He felt the air leave his lungs again, seeing his crinkled eyes. He was annoyed that he was so attractive. 

He didn’t take his hand. Because he didn’t feel the same. 

This would be a waste of time. 

Minho’s hand eventually fell, and Jisung was surprised to hear a chuckle fall from his lips. 

Before Minho could say anything else, Chan and Changbin walked into the room. 

Jisung glanced at the clock and scowled at them. “Do you know that ‘practice starts at six’ means practice starts at six?” he questioned. He was already frustrated. His irritation grew when Minho’s hand came up to cover his smile.

“Pipe down. It’s only two minutes after,” Changbin said, ignoring him. 

Chan didn’t even acknowledge it—he just smiled at Minho. 

“Hey—thanks so much for coming,” he said, and Minho just shrugged. 

“Oh, no problem. Felix said you were in kind of a bind, so any friend of his that’s in need is also a friend of mine.” 

Jisung wanted to roll his eyes as Chan grabbed his hand with a look of admiration as if he were worshiping him.

“We really owe you. We’re playing in that summer fest in a few weeks, and—well, you know how many people show for it. You’ve played in it twice before, right?” Chan asked, and that spiked Jisung’s interest a little. It was an honor to be invited to play at the biggest event of the summer. 

“Yeah—with my old band.” 

Jisung could see a slight change in those brown eyes of his—especially when he blinked away from Chan’s face for a moment. But that bright smile was back on his face in an instant, and Jisung wondered if he had just imagined it. 

“Good to know you have experience. We’re all nervous—okay, maybe not all of us. Jisung doesn’t get pre-show nerves. Kid’s a confident freak,” Changbin said, poking him in the spine with his drumstick on the way to his drum set. 

Jisung rolled his eyes this time, but it was true. 

“Is that so?” Minho said with a smile, their eyes connecting again. 

“Well, anyway,” Chan said, seeing Jisung getting ready to say something but cutting him off before that could happen. “Let’s get to it. The mic’s all set up for you, and lyric sheets are on the stand.” 

Jisung was happy they were finally getting to practice. It was almost twenty minutes after now, and he really hated wasting time. 

The tap of Changbin’s sticks pounded through his body, setting the tempo, and when the first chord sounded, he was being sucked into the music. They sounded great, and he felt a smirk come to his face, seeing Minho’s wide smile. 

Jisung was waiting for the intro, hoping this guy wouldn’t ruin their sound. But Jisung’s fingers fumbled on the strings when he heard his voice—breathy, confident, and absolutely beautiful. His heart was racing, hearing it blare through the speakers. It made his entire body shake and shiver, the hair standing on his skin as he took little breaths away from the microphone. His top lip bumped it a little as he returned to belt out the chorus. He was getting lost in his voice, the guitar, bass, and drums completely fading into the background as he watched and listened to Minho perform. He had never heard anyone else sing so perfectly. He didn’t miss a single note, and Jisung’s heart exploded when Minho’s eyes glanced over at him.

He blushed when he realized he had just completely missed his solo. 

Chan waved them off, and Jisung blinked at the floor. Because he had never messed up like that before. But he had been so distracted. 

“Yo, Jisung—did you just mess up?” Changbin chuckled from behind him, and Jisung felt his entire body burning. 

He had no idea what to say. He couldn’t believe he just did that. He had never once made such a critical mistake. And it was all because of that singer, standing in the front of the studio, smiling at him with those pretty brown eyes and a beautiful smile. 

“I—I couldn’t hear over Minho’s singing. It’s way too loud.”

It wasn’t too loud though, he was just completely mesmerized by him. But there was no way he would admit that. 

Chan glared at him. “Jisung—”

“Oh, I can turn the amp down. It is a bit loud.” 

He moved to adjust the volume a little, and Jisung quickly tried to regain his composure. He needed to get a grip. But that feeling inside him was completely new. He had never felt that way just from hearing someone’s voice. 

He turned to take a deep breath, not wanting anyone to see him trying to calm himself down. 

“Okay—let’s go again. Ready?” Changbin asked, and everyone nodded before they jumped back into the music. He couldn’t believe his voice shook his core just as intensely the second time. But he tried to block it out the best he could. 

He couldn’t fuck up again. 

He closed his eyes and listened to Changbin’s beat, letting it guide him. When it was time for his solo, he felt the rush of adrenaline wash over him as he hit every single chord and note perfectly. As his eyes opened, he saw that Minho’s gaze was stuck to where he was fingering the chords. Jisung wished he could read his expression. There was a smile on his face, but he couldn’t detect that impressed look like all the others had when they heard him play. 

He had no idea why that made his heart thump in his chest. 

The song ended, and Jisung was breathing a little heavily. 

“Wow, that sounded really good, guys,” Chan said, holding up his thumb in the air. 

Minho nodded but turned to face Jisung. 

“Your tuning is a little off, by the way—you’re a bit flat.” 

Jisung blinked at him, completely shocked. He was expecting him to say he sounded amazing or something along the lines of that. He felt the irritation taking over, especially since Minho was still smiling at him.

“And your voice is way too loud. It’s taking away from the rest of the group. You need to have some sort of control instead of just belting out like you’re the only one in the band.” 

Chan’s eyes went wide, and he heard Changbin drop a drumstick. 

Jisung knew he probably shouldn’t have said that. Usually when he snapped, it was because he meant it. But he didn’t mean that at all. Minho was an amazing singer, and he wanted to compliment him, saying he was the best one their group had ever seen. However, Minho’s comment made his insides burn with frustration. Not receiving a single ounce of praise or recognition left him unreasonably annoyed.

He also knew that Chan might actually kick his ass if his words managed to make another singer quit. He could feel his eyes stabbing into him like daggers from where he stood. 

Everyone looked shocked when Minho laughed softly. Jisung’s heart did a flip in his chest at the sound. It was beautiful, just like his voice.

“You guys want to play another song?” he asked. 

Minho had completely ignored him. 

If that were Keeho, Yunho, or Beomgyu, there would have been a war happening in the middle of the studio. But Minho didn’t look bothered at all. He almost looked like he didn’t even care. 

Jisung’s rage was bubbling inside him. He couldn’t understand why Minho’s comment was getting under his skin so much, especially when Minho seemed completely indifferent to Jisung’s words.

He could hear Changbin chuckling behind him, and Chan just looked relieved that Minho hadn’t lashed out or stormed out of the studio. 

The rest of practice went well, but Jisung was getting more and more irritated at losing his focus because of Minho’s gorgeous voice. He was also annoyed that they played through at least half the setlist, and Minho hadn’t said a word about any of Jisung’s solos. 

It was driving him crazy.

They packed up for the evening, and Minho slung his bag over his shoulder. Jisung didn’t look in his direction as he said his goodbyes, saying he would see them on Wednesday for another rehearsal. 

Jisung was about to leave when Changbin grabbed him by the back of the collar. 

“Hey!” he complained as he threw him down onto the couch. 

“What the hell was that today?” Changbin asked, eyeing him with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jisung huffed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he accused, making Jisung sigh. “Why are you trying to pick a fight with this guy already? We have a gig in less than four weeks, and we need him.” 

Jisung slumped even deeper into the couch, pouting.

“All I said was that he was too loud and needed to blend in with our sound. If he can’t handle hearing that, then in my opinion, he shouldn’t be playing with us at all.” 

Chan let out a loud sigh, coming from behind him and bopping him on the head with his folder filled with sheet music.

“Listen, Jisung. You need to stop and think before you speak, okay? Changbin and I know you mean well and that you just care about the band, but other people don’t see it that way.”

Jisung shrugged, looking up to catch Chan’s soft eyes. He felt his heart twinge a little, seeing his disappointed gaze.

“Alright—I’ll… be nicer.” 

He groaned when Changbin reached out to pinch his cheek. 

“You’re so much cuter when you’re acting sweet,” he teased, making Jisung slap angrily at his hands. 

“Get off me before I break your wrists, and we have to find a new drummer, too.” 

Changbin just laughed as Chan smacked them both with the folder. 

“No fighting. That’s the deal. I want four weeks of no arguments. I want everyone focused and ready to play this event—understood?” 

Jisung smirked, liking it when Chan got a little bossy. It showed he really meant it and that he cared about the band. 

“Understood,” Jisung and Changbin said at the same time. 

Jisung made his way home, walking under the moonlight. The soft breeze in the air brushed against his cheeks as the cars whipped past him in the street. He couldn’t help but think about Minho on the way, wondering what he thought about him. He wasn’t sure why he cared, but those big, pretty brown eyes staring at him made him want to know what he was thinking. 

It was strange, but he couldn’t get him off his mind. He just gripped the straps of his guitar case and began walking a little faster. Maybe he just needed a good night’s sleep to forget all about those pretty eyes and beautiful voice. 

Jisung had been completely consumed by thoughts of Minho for the last two days. He was annoyed that he couldn’t get him or his stupid, beautiful voice out of his head. It was driving him so insane that he could barely focus during practice or at his part-time job. 

He decided to go to the studio early because the best way for him to get his mind in check was to practice. 

He froze when he opened the door and saw Minho already there, setting up the amps and the microphone. His eyes instantly popped up at him, and that smile that had been torturing Jisung’s thoughts for days was right in front of his eyes again. 

“Hey,” Minho greeted him, that pretty, sounding voice making his heart flutter. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, trying not to sound extremely irritated but failing miserably. It was obvious he was annoyed. He had come early to practice—alone—and Minho was ruining that. 

They didn’t say anything else to each other as Jisung got his guitar out and started tuning. He could feel prickling on his skin though, because Minho’s eyes were on him since he had walked in the door, refusing to look away. 

Minho sat on the couch, watching as Jisung played around and strummed his guitar. He had no idea why his fingers were shaking as he tried to focus. 

Minho’s attention was completely on him, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“So, how long have you been playing with Chan?” he asked, and Jisung’s annoyed eyes slid over to him. He was supposed to be practicing, and clearly, Minho wasn’t respecting that. 

“Three years. Now, can you be quiet? I’m trying to focus here.” 

Minho chuckled again, and Jisung’s heart soared just as high as the first time he heard it. 

“Sure,” he responded calmly.

He was incredibly confused. If he had said that to Keeho, he would have yelled at him, getting so pissed off that one of them would storm out of the room. But Minho didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 

He was resting against the armrest of the couch and continued to stare at him. Jisung was getting frustrated. He wasn’t talking now, but his gaze was totally distracting. He turned and glared at him, clearly showing his annoyance.

“What are you even doing here? Rehearsal doesn’t start until six. I’m trying to practice, and you’re bothering me.” 

Minho’s smile didn’t twitch in the slightest at his words. He just shrugged. 

“Chan said you started practice an hour before everyone else, so I was curious,” he said, making Jisung’s eyebrows furrow. He should have just turned around, but of course, he couldn’t. 

“Curious about what?” 

Minho blinked at him with those pretty brown eyes, and Jisung wished his heart wasn’t beating so fast. It was starting to make him light-headed. 

“I wanted to watch you play for a bit,” he told him, and Jisung’s cheeks reddened a little at that. Jisung wasn’t expecting him to say that. He had no idea how to even respond.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, because that was the only thing he could think of to say. He turned his back, deciding that he wasn’t going to get Minho to leave the room no matter what he said. He took a deep breath and refocused on his music. He practiced his solo, not making a single mistake, even though Minho was staring at him. He could feel his eyes burning into him as he played. 

He wouldn’t lie that it kind of gave him an adrenaline rush. If Minho wanted to watch him, then he’d put on a show. If he was curious about his skills, then he would show him that he was the best guitar player he had ever heard in his life. He wanted to hear him say it. He couldn’t stand that he couldn’t see in his eyes. 

After he finished his part, he turned to see that Minho was now playing on his phone. Jisung’s eye twitched a little as he watched Minho yawn, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as a little sound escaped. Even his stupid yawn sounded pretty. 

“Hey,” Jisung snapped, making Minho turn his head slowly. “I thought you said you wanted to watch?” 

He had no idea why he was asking that. He had no idea why he even cared . But the fact that he couldn’t keep Minho’s attention was driving him crazy. Even though he argued with their prior singers, they could never hide their awe as they heard Jisung play. He knew that’s what had bothered Keeho the most—and it’s what made Jisung’s ego flare with intensity whenever he saw it. But Minho wasn’t even looking at him. He felt a swirl of irritation inside of him, seeing his head cock to the side with a confused smile. 

“Oh—I was,” he said, shrugging. His attention was back on his phone as he looked away. 

Jisung had never been so annoyed before in his entire life. If he had watched, then why wasn’t he saying anything? If he had watched, then why did he look so bored? If he had watched, then why didn’t that spark of mesmerization flash in his eyes? 

Jisung knew he was about to burst. He bit his lip and turned away again, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He needed to calm down because he shouldn’t care what this guy thought about him. And he had promised Chan that he wouldn’t start an argument for the next few weeks. 

He went back to practicing, and he was trying not to get annoyed as Minho’s eyes didn’t land on him once. He couldn’t help but check. He played solo after solo, but not a single one seemed to attract his eyes or attention. 

Both of their heads turned when Chan and Changbin showed up five minutes early today. 

Jisung was stewing, and it was hard to hide, but of course Minho had a pretty smile on his face. 

“Hey, hey,” Changbin said, tossing his bag to the side of the couch and grabbing his drumsticks from his back pocket. 

“Hey guys, I was getting bored waiting for you.” 

Jisung winced hearing that. He kicked at the chord on the floor, trying not to snap.

“Well, let’s get set up quickly so we can have a productive session.” Chan grabbed his bass, and Minho hopped up from the couch. 

Jisung would be lying if he said that Minho’s voice didn’t completely blow him away again—just like the first time. 

He decided that his voice felt like listening to the rain fall on a beautiful summer evening, bringing relief from the burning sun and getting drenched in a soothing feeling. It was comforting, like a warm cup of honey tea waiting to be sipped on the coldest day in winter. It was a sound that kept him wanting more, to play it over and over in his head, but he would never get tired of hearing it. 

He almost missed his solo again, but when Minho looked at him this time, he gave him a tiny nod, snapping him out of the trance of his voice. 

And of course, he played it perfectly. Just like always. 

After rehearsal, Jisung was waiting for him to say something. But nothing came. Minho left with just a pretty smile and a tiny wave. 

Minho kept coming early to every practice. It was starting to drive Jisung insane. It was the same thing every time. Jisung would feel his gaze, but then, as soon as he started playing, Minho would look like he was bored. 

He couldn’t believe that it was getting in his head. 

He was losing his mind—so much so that he fucked up twice during rehearsal. 

“We can take a five-minute break,” Chan said, seeing the irritation bubbling behind Jisung’s eyes. Minho had been staring at him since he missed the entrance to his solo. He had been too busy staring at his face, his eyes captivated by the tiny freckle on his nose. He decided that Minho was the prettiest guy he had ever seen in his life. His reddish hair was tucked behind his ears today, and Jisung couldn’t help but think that it complimented his eyes perfectly. He wore an oversized black hoodie, even though it was summer. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and Jisung could see he had multiple bracelets on his wrists, all different colors. He looked cute. 

That’s what he was daydreaming about when he missed his solo. 

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, kicking at the amp a little as Changbin and Chan went to grab a snack from the vending machines. They tried to get Minho to go along, likely wanting to give Jisung a little break to himself, but he denied them. 

Changbin had to pull Chan from the room, knowing he was nervous to leave them alone. 

“Would you like me to give you a cue?” Minho asked, making his way over to sit on the amp right in front of Jisung’s view. His breath hitched again since he was now only about an arm’s length away. 

“No—I don’t need a fucking cue,” he snapped, and Minho chuckled. Of course he chuckled—and of course, it made Jisung’s heart flutter like crazy. He was getting even more annoyed. 

“Well, you keep looking at me, so I thought maybe you’d like one.” His smile was wide, and those words made Jisung blush deeply. He instantly panicked, feeling embarrassed that he was caught. 

“Because—you’re too damn loud again. I swear, all I can hear is you.” 

And that was half true. The only thing he could hear was him, not because he was too loud, but because he was completely captivated by his voice every single time without fail. 

Minho just smiled wider.

“I’ll give you a cue. You seem a little distracted today.” He jumped off the amp, and Jisung had to step back a little as he passed in front of him, so close that he could smell the sweet cinnamon scent of his skin.

“I’m not distracted,” he argued. Minho turned to blink at him with those pretty eyes of his. 

“Sure.” That was all he said before exiting the studio. 

Jisung felt the anger boiling in his stomach. He gritted his teeth and clenched the neck of the guitar so hard the strings were bending. 

When practice resumed, Jisung tried not to get even more pissed when Minho pointed at him with his finger and a smirk for a cue. He played his solo perfectly, even if he was radiating pissed-off energy. But he couldn’t tell if Minho was impressed or not since he had looked away almost immediately after giving him his cue.

He was really getting on his nerves. 

Once again, Minho left the studio first, with just that pretty smile and tiny wave. 

Chan must have noticed his severe irritation because he grabbed him by the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at his clenched fists. 

“I don’t like him,” he grumbled. Chan sighed as Changbin laughed from the back of the studio.

“Why not? He’s super nice—and he knows how to handle your little attitude,” Changbin said, making Jisung glare at him. 

“What attitude?” he hissed, which caused Changbin to laugh even louder.

“Um, that attitude,” he pointed out, making Jisung’s anger boil even more. 

“I don’t have an attitude. You’re just a pain in my fucking—”

“Hey—what did I say about no fighting?” Chan interrupted, his voice deep and filled with warning. 

Jisung huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Changbin just shrugged. “He’s the one that’s all worked up.”

Jisung ignored him, angrily packing the rest of his things away so he could take a nice relaxing stroll home. 

“Jisung—it’s only temporary, okay? So, please just try and get along,” Chan said. 

Jisung sighed deeply but decided to just nod. He respected Chan and didn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Fine.” 

He shrugged his guitar straps over his shoulder and tried to put Minho’s voice and smile out of his mind as he walked home. 

Unfortunately, his voice was playing like a broken record in his mind. 

Jisung was moments away from losing it when he walked in, and Minho was sitting on his amp. He was flipping through the folder Jisung had left behind yesterday. He quickly stomped up to him, trying to grab it from his hands, but Minho refused to let go.

“That’s mine,” he said, and Minho chuckled. Jisung’s stupid heart fluttered. 

“What are you, a child? I know it’s yours. Don’t worry, I’ll give it back.” 

Jisung felt his anger flare. He was about to lose his shit, but Minho’s soft voice instantly calmed him down. “You write your own music?” he asked, and Jisung carefully let go of the folder. 

“Sometimes,” he mumbled, and Minho just nodded. Jisung watched him closely, checking his face for any kind of impressed expression. 

But there was nothing. The frustration welled inside him. 

Jisung practiced as Minho sat on his amp because he refused to move. He decided to play a few pieces he wrote, but even then, Minho still didn’t look impressed. 

It was starting to weigh on him. 

Chan and Changbin walked in, and Jisung didn’t even mention that they were four minutes late. He was too busy in his head, trying to figure out why he could never impress Minho, no matter what he did. 

Practice went well, and Jisung felt himself flinch when Minho’s eyes danced over him for a slight second before moving to the drumset. 

“Hey—Changbin, that sounded really good,” Minho said, turning around from the microphone to tell him. Jisung wasn’t sure why his insides were burning again. His eyes flicked from Changbin’s wide grin to Minho’s impressed eyes, and he hadn’t realized he was squeezing the neck of his guitar so hard that the strings were threatening to snap again. 

“Thanks, Minho.” 

Jisung turned away, knowing he was going to have to tune again since he had bent his strings too far and bumped the pegs against his mic stand. But he had no idea why that was driving him crazy. Minho would constantly tell Changbin and Chan that they were doing great but never once said anything like that to him. 

It was making him go insane. 

He knew he was probably doing a little too much, but he was going all out for the rest of practice, trying to see if Minho would say anything. He almost lost his shit when he didn’t say a single word. He didn’t even look at him when he left the studio this time. 

And he needed to know what his problem was. 

Jisung texted Minho separately from the group chat, saying that practice was at five instead of six. He had stopped coming early to watch Jisung practice, and he had no idea why. 

They had two weeks left until the summer festival, and he needed to get Minho and his uninterested eyes out of his head before then. He wasn’t sure what his plan was. He wasn’t used to this feeling. He had no idea how to impress him, but he was going to find a way. 

When Minho walked in, Jisung already had his guitar plugged in and was ripping through a solo. He turned but didn’t stop his hands flying on the guitar strings. He didn’t stop when Minho sat down on the couch, but he noticed he barely looked in his direction. 

When he finished, he ended on a dramatic strum, the chords ringing throughout the studio. The irritation swirled inside him again as Minho lay down, not paying him any attention. 

He was shaking with anger. He had no idea what to do or say that would make Minho admit that he was good. 

He decided to just play through another solo, hoping he would say something eventually. 

After about a half hour of Jisung practicing and Minho outright ignoring him, he finally spoke. 

“Any reason why you told me to come early?” he questioned, making Jisung freeze. 

“I—I didn’t,” he lied, as Minho leaned his head over the side of the couch.

“Chan told me practice is at six—I was with him when you texted us both separately. Weird that mine said five, right?” 

Jisung was sweating. “My finger must have typed out the wrong number,” he lied again, hoping that Minho would stop pressing.

“Are you sure?” he asked. A smirk came to his face as he kicked off the couch, making his way closer. “Or did you want me to come listen to you practice?” 

Jisung’s breath hitched, his eyes darting anywhere but Minho’s face. But his pretty brown eyes were begging to be looked at. 

“No—I mean—why the fuck would I want that?” he tried to deny it, but his nervous face was definitely giving him away. 

“You want me to tell you that you’re good—is that it?” 

Jisung’s face turned bright red. His mouth dropped open like he wanted to reject that statement, but nothing could get past his lips. 

Minho chuckled, and Jisung burned even darker. “You’re such a typical, egotistical guitarist, Jisung. I’ve worked with a lot of guys that are just like you. The only thing that’s different is that you’re more of a cute little brat.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide, and he wished he could find his voice again. “That’s—not true,” he managed to choke out. 

Minho just laughed again. “Oh, babe—you think I can’t see that you’re begging for praise?” he teased, and Jisung flinched when he placed a hand on his cheek. “You keep saying that I’m singing too loud, but that desperation of yours is even louder.” 

Jisung’s heart was hammering. He couldn’t believe his words or that Minho seemed to know it was driving him crazy that he never told him he was a good guitarist. 

He was flushed, and he winced when Minho tapped his red cheek. Jisung swallowed thickly, and his eyes were captivated by Minho’s soft smirk and knowing eyes. He turned to walk away, but Jisung grabbed his wrist. 

“So—do you… think I’m good?” 

He couldn’t believe how pathetic that sounded. He shouldn’t have even cared. 

Minho shrugged. “It takes a lot to impress me.”

Jisung slowly released his fingers, and Minho returned to the couch. He plopped down, acting like nothing just happened. 

Jisung’s hands were shaking—the rage and embarrassment overtaking him. He turned away, unable to stop his blush. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about his words.

He wasn’t desperate for praise. 

Or at least he didn’t think he was. 

He shook his head, trying to focus. He needed to forget what just happened. He just needed to get through this gig, and Minho would be gone. He didn’t need to impress him. He was just a temporary singer, and soon, whatever he thought about him wouldn’t matter. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to know just what he had to do to get him to admit he was impressive. 

Before he could think about it any harder, Chan and Changbin entered the practice room. He was thankful that Minho didn’t mention that Jisung made him show up early. 

He also found it was incredibly difficult to stay focused as Minho belted into the microphone. He also kept looking right at him, like he was singing just for him. His heart was fluttering, and he flushed when Minho cued him again. If he hadn’t, he would have missed his solo again. 

Jisung was actually relieved when rehearsal ended. He could feel Minho’s eyes on him as he packed up his guitar. 

He didn’t understand him. Earlier, he had no interest in looking at him, but all throughout practice and as they packed up, he wouldn’t take his eyes off him. He swore he was doing it on purpose. 

Jisung just ignored him as he stormed out of the studio. He took in deep breaths as he tried to take a relaxing walk home, focusing only on the gentle breeze on his cheeks, and not Minho’s words that were racing through his mind. 

Minho kept coming early to practice. He made sure to text him that practice started at six, trying to make last time look like a complete accident. But Minho still kept coming at five. 

It was frustrating, feeling his unimpressed eyes on him every single time. It seemed no matter what he did, he couldn’t move him with his sound. 

He tried to ignore him, but it was difficult, especially when he kept going all out on his solos in front of him, receiving zero reaction. 

It was driving him crazy. 

It also didn’t help that he couldn’t get Minho’s voice out of his head. Every practice felt like hearing him sing for the first time, leaving him so impressed that it was hard to keep his emotions off his face.

He was thankful when practice ended because he found it was impossible for him to focus. 

He just needed to keep reminding himself that this was temporary. 

“Shit,” Changbin said as he came back into the studio from using the bathroom. “It’s pouring outside. I left my umbrella at home.” 

Jisung shook his head. Of course Changbin didn’t bring an umbrella. All day, the forecast said it was going to pour. Jisung grabbed his umbrella from his bag, and he was about to make a joke about him having to walk home in the pouring rain. But Minho suddenly handed his umbrella over to him. 

“Here—you can use mine.”

Changbin grabbed it with both hands, looking thankful yet guilty. 

“But, you’ll get soaked.”

“Jisung and I have a similar walk home—we can share.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide as his smile flicked over to him. They did live in the same direction, but there was no way Jisung was about to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him after what happened earlier that week. 

“You’re seriously a lifesaver. The last thing I need is to get a cold right before summer fest.”

Jisung scowled at him. “Maybe you should start being proactive and check the weather before leaving the house instead of making your problem everyone’s problem.” 

Changbin smirked at him. “Remember when you said you didn’t have an attitude?” 

Jisung glared, but when Minho chuckled, he blushed. That sound was enough to make his glare wipe from his face. 

“Guys?” Chan warned, and Jisung sighed, having to bite his tongue. 

“Come on—let’s get going,” Minho said, pressing his back against the doors and beckoning him with a finger. 

Jisung felt his heart flutter, and his feet moved without even realizing it. 

It wasn’t just pouring—it was storming. The rain was dropping like buckets from the sky as they stood at the exit. Jisung flinched, feeling Minho’s shoulder bump his. 

“Ready?” he asked, and Jisung nodded, opening the umbrella and raising it above their heads. Minho gripped the handle just above Jisung’s hand, and every time their skin touched, his heart skipped a beat. 

They tried to walk quickly, but the rain and wind made it difficult. 

“So—are you ready for the gig next week?” Minho asked, and Jisung could feel his eyes on him as they walked through the puddles. He wanted to tell him to watch where he was going, or he would crash into a light post, and Jisung wouldn’t help him dodge it. But he remembered that he promised Chan he wouldn’t start a fight. 

“I’m always ready,” he told him and his heart raced again at his little chuckle.

“You have been practicing a lot,” he mentioned, and Jisung wished his heart would slow down. 

Jisung just shrugged. “I’m always practicing—and I practice even more when we have gigs. I’m thinking about showing up even earlier since classes are starting up soon.”

He knew he wouldn’t have much time when classes resumed, so he wanted to take the opportunity while he had it. 

Minho smiled so widely that he could see it in his peripheral vision.

“Are you going to make me come watch again?” he teased, and Jisung flushed. 

“I told you—I accidentally sent you the wrong time.” 

There was no way he would admit it. 

“Sure, sure.” He could tell he didn’t believe him. Minho bumped his shoulder, and Jisung felt his heart flip. “You know—I really enjoy playing with you guys. It’s been a while since I’ve been excited for a performance.” 

Jisung couldn’t help but look over at him, and their gazes connected. That fleeting emotion was behind his eyes again, but it was gone the second Jisung blinked at him. Jisung wanted to question that. He had no idea how he could ever not love performing. But that look in Minho’s eye made him say something else entirely. 

“I’m excited, too.” 

Minho’s eyes crinkled, and Jisung couldn’t believe how pretty he was. The wetness from the rain had somehow managed to splash onto his cheeks, making them shine with the street lights. 

It was quiet for a bit as they trudged through the rain. It drenched their legs as they walked, and Jisung could feel the water permeating his socks and sneakers. He could feel Minho’s body heat next to him as he pressed closer. The rain was whipping with the wind, and Jisung could see they were at the section where they would part ways. 

“Welp looks like I’m running from here,” Minho went to let go of the umbrella, but Jisung grabbed his hand, forcing him to keep his grip.

“You can take it. My apartment is right around the block.” He couldn’t believe his own ears. Normally, he would have said, “that sucks, see you later!” but for some reason, Minho getting drenched and sick was making his heart twist with a strange feeling. 

Even Minho looked surprised by his offer. “I can’t take your umbrella from you,” he tried to deny, but Jisung shook his head. 

“It would be bad if you were to get sick. Then you wouldn’t be able to sing.” 

It was dark, and he probably couldn’t see properly, but Jisung swore that Minho was blushing a little. 

“Well… thanks,” he said shyly, and that big smile turned tiny. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

Jisung nodded and threw his hood over his head. He quickly turned and ran as fast as he could, not because of the pouring rain, but because he was trying to get away from Minho’s pretty smile that made his heart race so fast he could barely think. 

Jisung was annoyed with himself by how thrilled he was that Minho showed up early before practice again. When he saw his face, his focus had disappeared, his hands slowing on the strings. His smile was big and bright, and instead of plopping down on the couch, Minho walked right up to him. Jisung’s breath hitched, having him suddenly so close. 

“Here—thanks for letting me borrow it.” He handed him the umbrella, and Jisung nodded, remembering Minho’s shy face from the other night. 

“Oh—it’s no problem,” he said awkwardly. He thought Minho would back away, but he stayed close, blinking at him with those pretty brown eyes. Jisung really wondered how to get those thoughts out of his head. Because right now, he wanted to reach out and run his fingers over his blushed cheeks. 

“So… I’m gonna… practice,” Jisung said, turning quick because he couldn’t handle the fast beat of his heart. He couldn’t help but notice Minho’s outfit today. He wore a giant white hoodie with a headband pulling back his hair. Jisung was annoyed that he thought he looked really cute. 

He never had those thoughts about anyone before. He couldn’t believe that they kept popping up in his head. It was distracting him, and he hated it. He needed to get his focus back on his music and less on this singer who was making his heart flutter way too often. 

He began strumming again, but his fingers halted as Minho sat in front of him, right on the amp where his sounds were coming from. 

“Get off,” Jisung grumbled, but Minho shook his head with a smile.

“I can hear better from here than on the couch,” he said before shrugging his shoulders. “Unless you don’t want me to listen, then I can—”

“No, you can… listen.” 

Jisung bit his tongue hard. He blushed because those were not the words he wanted to exit his mouth. He wanted to tell him to go sit on the couch and quit bothering him. But Minho’s soft voice had his mind all fuzzy. 

Minho’s smile went incredibly wide, and Jisung had to close his eyes because he couldn’t handle how pretty he looked today. 

“Then play for me.” 

Jisung wasn’t sure why those words lit a fire inside of him, but he gripped his guitar and dove into his solo. His heart was hammering as he played. The adrenaline coursed through his veins as he looked up to see Minho’s gaze on him. His smile was still there, and he was tapping his fingers against his lips. His eyes slowly closed as he listened, nodding along to Jisung’s sound. 

When he strummed the final chord, its resonance filled the studio. Minho’s eyes remained closed, and when he finally opened them, Jisung was frustrated to see no sign of admiration or a gleaming spark. Minho got up from the amp, and Jisung's fingers clenched tightly around his guitar pick.

Minho grabbed his bag from the couch and started rifling through it. “Want a snack?” he asked, pulling out his wallet. Jisung felt a surge of anger rippling through him.

“What? No—you… what did you think? What did you think about my solo?” He sounded just as desperate as he had earlier in the week. He couldn’t even deny his patheticness. He winced, seeing Minho smirk. 

“I think you should keep practicing. We have a gig next week,” he stated. 

Jisung felt something snap inside him when he said that. His heart felt like it had shriveled and sunk to the bottom of his chest. His hands were so tight on his guitar that his knuckles turned white. 

Minho made his way to the door, and before he left, he turned back to him. “Sure you don’t want anything?” 

All Jisung could do was shake his head. He moved his gaze to the ground, feeling the frustration spreading. 

Minho left the room, and Jisung was left with a severe feeling of disappointment. 

Practice was going well, but Jisung was losing his mind. Minho refused to look at him during rehearsal, and it was driving him crazy. Chan must have noticed the tension because he ended practice a little early. Everyone was fine with that. 

Everyone except Jisung. 

“We have a gig in less than a week. We can’t afford to cut practice early,” he argued, but Chan just ignored him, throwing his sweater at him so it draped over his head. 

“Pack it up. We’re going out to eat. Everyone is tired and hungry, and we’re not doing ourselves any favors by being cranky and starving to death.” 

Jisung groaned, but Minho chuckled, and he was relieved to hear that sound fall from his lips. Jisung wasn’t exactly sure, but he seemed to be quieter today. He didn’t come to the studio early to listen to him practice, and he didn’t even acknowledge him when he walked through the door. He wasn’t sure why he even cared, but Minho was making him care about a lot of things he never cared about before. 

They decided to go to a sit-down restaurant that was about a five-minute walk down the street. Jisung flushed as Minho pushed him into the booth and slid in next to him. Jisung swore there was still something bothering him because his pretty smile wasn’t as wide as it was normally. He decided not to say anything because he wasn’t even sure what would be appropriate anyway. 

He didn’t really have a ton of friends. Chan and Changbin definitely just put up with him because they were all in a band together. Other than that, he mostly stuck to himself. He didn’t have time for friends anyway. He had college to get through, and his entire life had been consumed by playing the guitar. There was a reason why he was so good. He had spent every waking moment since he was three years old playing the instrument. He fell in love with it instantly and knew he wanted music to be his life. That was why he wasn’t sure how to properly maintain relationships. 

He kept peeking out the corner of his eye as Minho looked at the menu. He pursed his lips as he read, tipping his head back and forth as he contemplated what he wanted. 

Jisung glared at Changbin as he ordered them all around. It was a weekday, and Jisung had class in the morning. He tried to complain, but Changbin waved him off like an annoying bug.

“Well, the rest of us don’t have class—drink or don’t, but quit your complaining.”

Usually, he didn’t care about Changbin’s little comments, but when Minho chuckled again, he couldn’t help but blush a little. When the beers arrived at the table, he quickly grabbed it and chugged it down. He hated how his heart fluttered so much every time he heard it.

Chan grabbed their attention, placing his hands down on the table. “Alright, listen up,” he said, more so to Changbin and Jisung rather than Minho, knowing they were on the verge of another quarrel. “We have two more rehearsals before the big day. I want a full set run-through, but most importantly, I want everyone to relax and take a day off tomorrow.” 

Jisung’s face pinched into a scowl when Chan looked right at him. 

“I’m not taking a full day off—”

“Yes, you are.” His voice was demanding.

“But—”

He was cut off by Minho’s soft hand on his arm. He was surprised at the touch, flinching a bit. 

“You’re over practicing. If you keep this up, you’re going to burn out.” 

Jisung opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out as Minho gave him a gentle smile. He just nodded, but his head whipped over to Changbin, hearing him chortle. 

“Wow, you’ve tamed the brat.” 

Jisung glared at him, feeling his cheeks heat again as Minho laughed softly. 

“His bark is worse than his bite,” Minho said, and Jisung was getting frustrated. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, making Minho slowly look over at him with those big, pretty, brown blinking eyes. 

“It means we finally found someone that knows how to deal with your ass like Chan and I do,” Changbin added with a smirk, making Jisung kick his shin underneath the table. Changbin winced, “Ow—”

“Hey—no fighting. How many times do I have to say it?” Chan interrupted. Changbin shrugged while Jisung pointed at him. 

“He’s spewing bullshit.”

“He just kicked me.”

They said at the same time. Chan just sighed, grabbing his beer and chugging it, trying to wash down his stress. Minho chuckled again, and Jisung wanted to rip his stupid heart out as it fluttered again. 

“You’ve got your hands full with these two,” Minho laughed, and Chan threw his head back, rubbing at his temples.

“You’re telling me.” 

Their food came, and Jisung didn’t realize how hungry he was until his stomach grumbled loudly. Sometimes, he would get so into practicing he would forget to grab something to eat. Maybe Minho was right. Maybe he was going to burn himself out. But he couldn’t help it. Especially lately, since he’d been practicing more than ever. It was all because of the guy sitting to his left, who was driving him insane. He couldn’t seem to find a way to impress him. No matter what he did, Minho didn’t seem to be mesmerized by him. 

His words repeated in his mind. 

“It takes a lot to impress me.”

He was going crazy. 

He looked to see Minho staring down at his food, picking at it only slightly. Chan and Changbin had already finished their dinner, and Jisung was about to finish a second bowl. 

“Are you not hungry?” Jisung asked. Those words seemed to surprise Minho a little since his hand froze mid-stir. Jisung was surprised to see a tight smile on his lips, and he could instantly tell that it looked a little forced. 

“I am. I’m just a little tired,” he admitted, and Jisung nodded. 

Jisung realized then that he really knew nothing about Minho. He knew that he was a friend of a friend of Changbin’s, but that was about it. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so interested in him—he had never cared about anyone else like this before.

“So—are you in grad school like Chan?” Jisung asked, wanting to know a little more about him.

“Yeah. Music,” he replied simply, resuming the act of pushing his food around in his bowl.

“Do you sing with other bands, too?” Jisung wondered because, with a beautiful voice like his, anyone would be thrilled to have him as their main vocalist. He noticed that Minho’s hand froze again. He blinked at the table and didn’t miss the falter of his smile, either. 

“Not at the moment, no,” he said.

He seemed like he was upset now, and Jisung bit his lip, unsure of what to say. It was quiet between them because Jisung was terrible at making conversation. The only thing he knew how to talk about was music, and it seemed Minho had no interest in talking about that. He went back to stuffing his face, listening to Changbin chatter on about something. 

He was surprised when Minho placed some cash down on the table and pushed his bowl to the center, barely even eating half. 

“Sorry guys, I have to head out. But I’ll see you at practice on Wednesday?” he asked. Chan nodded while Changbin gave him a thumbs-up. He barely looked in Jisung’s direction as he grabbed his phone and started making his way toward the door. 

Jisung wasn’t sure why his heart ached a little bit. He wondered if he was alright. Chan and Changbin hadn’t seemed to notice, but Jisung could tell he was a little off today. His pretty smile wasn’t as big as it normally was, and there was something hidden behind those big brown eyes of his. 

He noticed that Minho had left his sweater behind, and he immediately grabbed it off the seat of the booth. “I’ll be right back—he forgot his jacket,” Jisung said, and Chan just nodded. 

“If you skip out on trying to pay, I know where you live, kid.” 

“I said I’ll be right back.” He rolled his eyes before hopping out of the booth. It was the last week of summer, and fall was really starting to settle in early. He hoped that the weather would be nice for their gig next week. He didn’t want the change in weather to mess with the sounds of his guitar. 

He saw Minho walking on the side of the road—but he was pacing on the phone. He was about to call out to him, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the tears on his face. 

“Get over yourself, Sungjin. Quit blaming me for everything.” 

He was borderline yelling, his teeth gritting as he ran a stressed hand through his hair. It was quiet as he listened to whoever was talking on the other line. 

A scoff left his lips. “Because you’re a fucking narcissistic asshole!” Jisung winced, hearing his pretty voice crack. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you. Find another vocalist and someone else’s feelings to fuck with.” 

His hand dropped from his ear, and Jisung could see his grip was tight—his knuckles white. He quickly wiped his eyes, and his head slowly turned to see Jisung standing there with his jacket in his hands, completely stunned and frozen. 

Minho turned immediately, and Jisung panicked as he started to walk away. Jisung wasn’t sure why, but he started to run. He ran after him, grabbing him by the wrist. 

“Minho, wait—”

They stopped on the sidewalk, and the people who walked by them were definitely staring. When he turned, there was no pretty smile on his face. He was surprised to see the tears wildly flying down his cheeks. His big brown eyes were rimmed red, and his top lip quivered with his tears. Jisung let out a soft, shocked gasp when he yanked his sweater out of his hands, quickly turning on his heel and walking away again. 

But Jisung for some reason, couldn’t let him leave. 

“Minho, hold on a minute,” he called, but Minho refused to slow down. 

“Leave me alone,” he said, but it sounded weak. 

Jisung grabbed him by the shoulder this time, but when he did, Minho turned around and pushed him hard in the chest. 

“Get off of me!” he screamed, his body heaving with anger. “I said leave me alone! You guitarist are all the fucking same!” he smacked Jisung with his sweater, making him wince. “You’re all assholes! Egotistical, narcissistic assholes who don’t care about anyone other than themselves! And I should have fucking known that!” 

He repeatedly hit him over and over, but Jisung just let him. He was too stunned by his sobbing to make him stop. Minho’s hands eventually fell, coming up to press against his face instead. 

Jisung slowly stepped closer, and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He had no idea what to say as Minho cried into his chest, gripping tightly to his shirt. 

His sobs turned to sniffles, and Minho eventually pulled back. Jisung was trying to look at his face, but Minho kept his head tilted toward the ground. It was quiet, neither of them speaking. 

Jisung knew that Chan was going to kick his ass for ditching without paying, but he wasn’t going to let Minho walk home alone. 

He had no idea what was going on inside Minho’s heart at the moment, but he knew what was going on inside his own, and that was a deep aching pain, seeing him so upset. 

He took the jacket from Minho’s hands and placed it over his shoulders. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed Minho’s hand, squeezing it tightly before pulling him down the street. 

He wasn’t exactly sure where he lived, but he knew where they had to split ways. Minho just followed him, and Jisung felt him squeeze his hand back even tighter. The moon was bright in the sky, and the cool breeze brushed over Jisung’s cheeks. He loved nights like these, relaxing him, especially after a long day of practice. He hoped the gentle air was calming Minho down a little. Jisung looked behind him, noticing him still blinking at the ground, with his cheeks bright red from the tears. 

When they reached the fork in the road, Jisung turned to him, refusing to let go of his hand. 

“I can walk you the rest of the way if you want,” he offered. Minho looked shocked when he said that but quickly shook his head. 

“No—it’s… it’s okay.” 

Jisung just squeezed his hand again. “Are you sure?” 

Minho chuckled airily and finally looked up at him. His cheeks were still a little wet, but he had that pretty smile on his face again. Jisung was relieved that it looked genuine. 

“I’m sure, Jisung. Thank you.” 

Jisung nodded and reluctantly let go of his hand. His heart ached again as Minho turned and left without saying anything else. He watched his silhouette as he disappeared into the night, desperately wondering what or who had hurt his heart. 

He hated that he thought his cries sounded just as beautiful, feeling guilty. 

He walked the rest of the way home, ignoring the barrage of texts from Chan and thinking about Minho’s tear-stained cheeks.

Jisung was incredibly surprised when Minho showed up early to practice on Wednesday. He was expecting him to ignore him after what happened at the restaurant. 

It was a little awkward as he took a seat on the couch, his bag still strapped around his body as he sat on his hands. He had on a light pink cardigan, and Jisung decided he looked pretty in every color. His red hair was in his eyes today like he was trying to hide a little. 

He had a smile on his face, but Jisung could tell he was avoiding eye contact. He didn’t say it, but Jisung knew he wanted to listen to him play. As soon as he strummed a chord, Minho’s eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. 

Jisung played for a while as Minho tapped his foot and bobbed his head a little. Jisung’s heart was fluttering, seeing him moved by his sound. He couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty of his soft features, and when he stopped playing, Minho’s eyes slowly opened. 

“I’m sorry for hitting you outside the restaurant,” he said suddenly. Jisung’s heart flipped, seeing the tiny blush on his cheeks. 

“You—you don’t have to apologize,” he told him because he really didn’t. But Minho shook his head. 

“I was pissed and upset… and it was wrong for me to do that. So, I’m sorry,” he apologized again. Jisung took a step closer, almost tripping over the chord that had his guitar plugged into his amp. 

“It’s okay,” he said, and he knew he should just drop it, but he couldn’t. “Are you… feeling better?” he asked, because he couldn’t stop thinking about him for the last two full days—his wet cheeks, pretty glistening eyes, or beautiful sobs. 

Minho blinked at him but nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. I am.” It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

Jisung nodded, unsure of what else to say. He went back to playing, allowing Minho to listen again. Minho watched him carefully, blinking at him as he leaned his head on the armrest of the couch. Jisung really loved the way he watched him, like he was completely engrossed in his sound. And for the first time ever, he thought he saw an impressed expression on his face, even if it was slight. 

Chan and Changbin interrupted their little moment, and as quickly as they entered the room, they were setting up to run through the setlist. 

Jisung couldn’t help but notice Minho had even more feelings in his voice than normal. Whatever heartbreak was coursing through him was exiting through his vocals. He sounded so beautiful though, and his expressions were just as pretty. 

He had to tear his eyes away, knowing he would fuck up if he continued to stare at him. It was impossible not to get distracted by him. Minho smiled and gave him a cue, which made Jisung chuckle a little. He went all out during his solo, hitting every note and riff perfectly. He smirked with confidence, knowing he sounded good. Even though he wouldn’t lie, he was a little frustrated that he still didn’t get any acknowledgment from Minho. 

They went through the setlist, and Chan seemed to be pleased. “We’re gonna rock the shit out of this festival.” 

Changbin chuckled, flipping his drumstick in the air. “If Hannie plays like that, then he’s gonna attract a full crowd.” 

Jisung smiled, enjoying his praise. 

“You guys—honestly, you might be the best band I’ve ever played with,” Minho said then, and Jisung knew he wasn’t directly talking to him. But their eyes were connected when he said that. 

“You’re the best vocalist we’ve ever had,” Jisung blurted out, and everyone’s eyes went wide, including his own. 

Changbin cackled, leaning over his drum set. “Holy shit. I never thought I’d see the day that someone would get a Han Jisung stamp of approval.”

Jisung has no idea why that came out of his mouth, but honestly, he meant it. He always thought that from the first time he heard him sing. He would have said something else if Minho’s face wasn’t dusted with a pretty pink blush. 

“I thought I was too loud?” he asked, and Jisung’s heart raced uncontrollably. 

Jisung shrugged, deciding that he wasn’t going to say anything else for the rest of practice for the sake of saving himself from embarrassment. He went back to strumming his guitar, ignoring Changbin’s comments and Minho’s soft glances.

When practice was over, Minho left first, and this time, he waved in Jisung’s direction. He couldn’t have been making it up because he looked like he was waiting for him to wave back. When he did, he finally made his way out of the studio door. 

“Remember when you were bitching that you didn’t like him?” Changbin reminded him with a smirk, and Jisung wasn’t sure why he flushed. 

Jisung ignored him, feeling Chan’s warning eyes on them. They had two days before the summer festival, and if they started fighting now, Chan would probably kill them. 

“Well, I really like him. I think we should ask him to join,” Changbin added. 

That made Jisung freeze because Minho was supposed to be only temporary. His uninterested eyes and unimpressed face were supposed to disappear after the festival. But now, the thought of him becoming permanent grabbed aggressively at his heart. 

“I mean, if you guys are both cool with it, I can ask him,” Chan suggested. 

“Okay—great. I’m pretty sure he just quit his old band right before we asked him to fill in,” Changbin said, spiking Jisung’s interest.

“Why did he quit?” he asked, and Changbin shrugged. 

“Not quite sure. I think there might have been a falling out—typical band drama, I’m sure.” 

Jisung’s mind was whirling at the information. His thoughts immediately returned to Minho’s words that he had screamed over the phone, his shining wet cheeks under the moonlight, and the way he had sobbed into his arms. 

Now, he was even more curious than before. 

“So, should I ask him?” Chan questioned, looking right at him. Jisung just shrugged. 

“I guess.” 

A grin broke out on Chan’s and Changbin’s faces. 

They packed up the rest of their things and headed out the door. Jisung wouldn’t lie that he couldn’t stop thinking about what his answer would be. And he had no idea why he desperately wanted him to say yes. 

Jisung was surprised when he saw him on campus. He had his headphones on, sitting on a bench outside the music hall. Jisung found that he gravitated towards him, especially since he was humming so beautifully. He stood in front of him as Minho seemed to be studying, and the music sheets in front of him were marked with red lines and dots. 

He looked up, seeming to be stunned by Jisung’s sudden appearance. He pushed his headphones off, and Jisung’s heart fluttered like it always did when he smiled prettily at him. 

“Oh—hey.”

Jisung wasn’t sure why he approached him. It was like he was in a trance, making his way over. His voice had pulled him in. Minho raised his eyebrows because Jisung was definitely just awkwardly staring at him. 

“What’s up?” he asked, trying to get him to say something. He was the one who came up to him, and he was totally acting completely strange. 

“Are you… coming to practice early today?” he asked, biting his lip as he said that. 

Minho cocked his head to the side, that pretty smile driving him crazy. “Are you asking me to come listen to you play?” 

Jisung flushed because maybe he was. He really liked it when Minho let his sound infiltrate him like it was the only thing in his body and mind. 

“No… I mean… if you want…” he trailed off, and he could feel his cheeks burning. 

Minho chuckled, and Jisung felt his heart explode at the sound. “I can come listen. But you have to ask me,” he said teasingly, leaning back on his hands. His legs were crossed, and he was kicking his foot back and forth, impatiently waiting for a response with that pretty smirk on his lips. 

Jisung closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Because he couldn’t believe he was so fucking desperate to have him come listen to him play that he would say anything if he asked him to. 

“I… want you to come listen to me play. Will you?” That seemed to please Minho immensely as he uncrossed his legs and stood up. He leaned in close, and Jisung’s heart was racing uncontrollably. 

“Sure, I’ll come early.” 

Jisung felt relieved when he said that, but he couldn’t stop staring at his lips now. He chuckled again, probably from seeing Jisung’s eyes dart from his lips to his eyes about a billion times. 

He turned to grab his bag and folder, and Jisung felt his lungs deflate as he pulled away. He couldn’t believe how easily his body was controlled by him. It was almost unnerving. 

“Do you have class this afternoon?” Minho asked then, and Jisung shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back. 

“Yeah. I was on my way to the music hall.” 

But then he stopped and made himself late because he couldn’t help but get drawn in by him. 

“You’re still in your undergrad, right?” he asked, beckoning him to follow him with a finger. It was embarrassing how quickly his feet moved. 

“It’s my final year. I’m graduating this spring.”

Minho nodded, holding his books to his chest as they walked shoulder to shoulder. 

“What are your plans after college? Are you going back to do grad school?” 

Jisung shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I want to do is perform.” 

His mother always told him it was unrealistic and that he shouldn’t expect to get famous. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but that’s all he wanted to do. He wanted to tour. He wanted fame. He wanted those eyes on him every night. He wanted it. He loved music more than anything in the world. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else besides performing on stage and playing guitar. 

“Then you should do that,” he said. Jisung’s head flicked over to him, seeing a giant, pretty smile on his face. No one had ever agreed with him when he said that. Even Chan told him he should have a backup plan just in case. But Minho looked confident in his answer. 

Jisung just nodded, and Minho’s eyes crinkled with an even wider smiler. 

They stopped in front of the music hall, and Jisung went to push open the door, but Minho stopped on the sidewalk, not following him. 

“I’m all finished with class—but I’ll see you later, okay?” He waved and started making his way down the sidewalk, and Jisung couldn’t help but stare after him.  

He blushed and bit his lip because Minho had just walked him to class, and he had no idea why that made his heart race even faster. 

He was anxious, pacing back and forth in the studio, waiting for Minho to arrive. He could barely focus in class, unable to get him out of his head. 

It was already half past five, and Minho still hadn’t shown up. He was getting frustrated when it was almost time for rehearsal, and he still wasn’t there. 

He ended up practicing by himself, and he was even more annoyed when Chan and Changbin came in five minutes after six. He was also upset that Minho still wasn’t there. 

“I know, I know. We’re late,” Changbin said, throwing his hands in the air. 

“The festival is this week, and you’re showing up late? Do you even care about the performance at all?” he snapped, making Changbin recoil a little in response. 

“What? It’s five minutes past Jisung. Settle down.” 

He clenched his hands on the guitar strings and knew Chan was eyeing them both, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was pissed off. 

“That’s five minutes we could have had to be perfecting our stage, but you’re acting like a careless—” 

He was cut off by the door opening and Minho stepping in, interrupting their conversation. Jisung would have kept yelling if he hadn’t noticed the upset look on his face.

“Guys. We have one fucking day left. Please, can you cool it until then?” Chan asked desperately, punching the bridge of his nose. 

Minho only gave them a small smile before placing his bag down on the couch and instantly stepping up to his mic. He tested it a few times and turned the volume down a little. He stood there quietly, and Jisung couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

He desperately wanted to ask him why he blew him off. He told him he would come, but instead, he was over ten minutes late. He felt the frustration inside him as he barely even looked in his direction during rehearsal. Something was wrong because even his voice sounded a little strained. 

They ran through the entire setlist back to front at least three times. Honestly, they sounded great, and Jisung could feel the adrenaline racing through his veins at the thought of performing.

“Alright—I think we’re all set,” Chan said with a smile, taking his bass off his shoulders. “We can meet up on the day of at around five, and we’re on at seven.” 

Everyone started to pack up, but Minho looked like he was stalling, eyeing Chan every now and again. Jisung planned on asking him to walk home together so he could ask him why he ditched him. But before he could, Minho was touching Chan’s wrist. 

“Hey, mind if we talk for a minute?” he asked softly, and Chan nodded. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho’s eyes flitted over to Jisung like he was waiting for him to leave. Jisung bit his lip, feeling frustrated again. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder dramatically, exiting the studio with a huff. But he couldn’t help his curiosity. He knew that eavesdropping was probably not a great idea, but he let the door close and placed his ear against it. 

“I thought about what you said, and I… I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can join,” Minho said. Jisung felt his heart drop, hearing him say that with such hurt laced in his voice. “I just left my last band, and there’s still a lot of bullshit going on from it, and I just don’t want to commit to something when I’m not sure if I’m ready, you know? I don’t want to let you guys down either.”

“Damn, well, that’s a bummer, but I totally get it. Felix told us you guys had a pretty bad split, so I’m sorry to hear that,” Chan told him, and he heard Minho sigh deeply. 

“Yeah—it’s okay. Shit happens, right?” He chuckled, but he didn’t laugh because it was funny. 

“Believe me, we feel you there. It’s been impossible to find a vocalist. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, but Jisung can be a little… hard to deal with sometimes. Finding someone who understands him has been difficult as hell.” 

Jisung frowned a little, hearing that, clenching his fingers on his guitar case strap. His heart burned when he heard Minho laugh softly. 

“I can see that,” he said, and Jisung bit his lip.

“Believe it or not, you’re the first vocalist he’s ever gotten along with. That’s honestly one of the reasons why we asked you to join. Changbin mentioned it before, but he’s a little more behaved when you’re around.” 

Jisung’s heart was hammering. He wasn’t expecting the conversation to take such a hard turn where he was the direct topic. He felt even guiltier for eavesdropping now. 

“A lot of guitarists are like him. I’ve learned how to handle the attitude over the years,” he chuckled, making Jisung’s insides swirl with hurt. “But Jisung really cares about your band. I can tell by the way he practices. He’s not satisfied with anything less than perfection. He’s not selfish and really cares about you guys, so… he’s kind of a brat when he doesn’t get attention, but he gets genuinely hurt when people don’t notice his efforts.”

Jisung’s heart completely fell out of his chest and out onto the floor. 

“Well, if you ever decide to change your mind, we’d really like to have you,” Chan said softly and gently.

“Thanks, Chan.” 

Jisung immediately panicked, knowing he needed to either hide quickly or book it down the corridor. Unfortunately, the bathrooms were down the hall, and he wasn’t fast enough on his feet. He only made it about halfway when Minho called his name.

He stopped dead in his tracks, knowing he was just caught. He sighed and turned around, seeing Minho walking toward him. He had a small, pretty smile on his face, but Jisung refused to meet his gaze.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Maybe he was safe. Maybe he didn’t know that he was listening after all. 

He nodded quickly, making a bigger smile spread across his lips. Minho started walking again, but Jisung was frozen in his spot. He couldn’t stop thinking about the words he had just said, and he was completely flustered seeing his pretty smile. 

“Come on, let’s walk home together,” Minho called over his shoulder, and that’s all it took for Jisung’s feet to start moving again. He raced after him since he was still walking ahead, jogging up so their shoulders were almost touching. He had to fix his guitar strap over his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but steal glances at Minho’s face. 

The moon was bright in the sky, and the cool air was once again breezy on his face. Jisung breathed in deeply, feeling relaxed. It was quiet as they walked. Normally, Minho would chat about something, and Jisung would listen, but today, it seemed he had nothing to say. 

His words from earlier were still eating at him inside. He was also desperate to know why he hadn’t come to practice early like he said he would. Before he could ask, Minho spoke first.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. Something… came up,” he said, his voice having that sad intonation. Jisung could see his pretty smile starting to disappear, and he really, really hated it. 

“It’s alright,” he lied. He was still frustrated about it. 

It was quiet again, and it was driving him crazy. He missed listening to Minho’s voice and talking to him on the walk home. He hadn’t realized it was even more relaxing than the wind. 

And he knew he probably shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help the question falling from his lips.

“Minho—can I ask why you quit your old band?” he asked, and Minho’s smile completely faded from his lips. Jisung’s heart felt tight, seeing it disappear. He could see him blinking rapidly, like he was trying to figure out what to say. 

“I had a… disagreement with the lead guitarist,” he told him, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Like a fight?” Jisung knew he was pressing, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know why Minho had that frown on his face. He wanted to know why his eyes looked just as shattered as they did outside of the restaurant that night. 

“Kind of,” he mumbled, turning his face away. Jisung hated that. 

It was definitely none of his business, but he couldn’t help but continue to question.

“Is that who you were talking to on the phone the other week?” he asked. That caused Minho to stop walking. He opened his mouth to say something, but then it snapped shut right away. Jisung could see something behind his pretty brown eyes. He didn’t need to tell him he was right for him to know that he was. 

“Jisung. I don’t want to talk about this,” he stated, making Jisung’s heart sting. 

“But… you were crying. He made you cry and—”

Minho brushed past him—his shoulder slapping against his. 

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he said a little louder this time. 

Jisung chased after him, grabbing him by the wrist to slow him down. 

“But I’m worried about you,” he admitted, which made Minho stop again. “Your voice… I can hear it when you’re upset. Today, when you were singing… I could tell, and I want to know why,” he demanded. His heart was racing so quickly, and he wondered if Minho could feel it on his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Jisung was extremely confused, hearing that. 

“What?” 

“If I didn’t sing well today, then I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t perfect, but I promise I won’t let it affect the performance this weekend.” 

Jisung quickly shook his head, even though Minho couldn’t see it because he was turned away. 

“No—that’s not—” 

He ripped his wrist out of his grasp and began walking away from him again. Jisung was starting to feel desperate. He ran so he could step in front of him, making him stop with a slight gasp.

“You always sound perfect,” he blurted out, and Minho blinked at him, surprised. “Ever since the first day you practiced with us—I lied about you being loud. You were just loud in my head because your voice is the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard in my life.” Minho’s jaw unhinged a little, and his eyes went wide. “I love hearing it. Not even just when you’re singing. When you laugh and when we talk, too. Your voice is…” he trailed off, blushing deeply. “I think your voice is beautiful.” 

Minho’s cheeks were bright, and his big brown eyes stared at him in disbelief. 

Jisung’s heart snapped when he slowly shook his head. “Jisung…” he whispered, tearing his gaze away.

“That’s why we want you to join our band,” he told him, and he could see Minho clench his teeth.

“I can’t,” he denied, closing his eyes. 

“Why not?” he asked, pressing again. 

“Because—fuck, Jisung. I said I can’t!” he yelled, shocking him. Jisung’s heart snapped when he saw the tears welling in his eyes, making them glisten in the moonlight. Jisung went to reach out, but Minho slapped his hand away. “Knock it off. Like I said before—all you guitarists are the same. And I—I can’t let myself fucking fall for it. Not again.” 

He walked around him, and Jisung felt his heart sting. He didn’t try to stop him this time as he heard his footsteps getting farther away. He clenched his hands into fists, desperately wanting to run after him, but he knew he would just get even angrier. 

He walked home with his heart aching, wondering even more about Minho’s words and desperately wanting to know who made those tears rush to his eyes.

It was the day of the festival, and Jisung couldn’t help but pick up his guitar and practice all morning. He woke up early, ate a healthy breakfast, and went through every single solo he had on the setlist. He couldn’t wait to be up on that stage. It had been a while, and they had been working so hard to play in this festival. It was an honor to be invited to play, and he couldn’t wait to see the crowd jumping and dancing on the beach to their sound. 

He couldn’t help but think about Minho as he played through his parts. His pained eyes and hurt voice were playing on repeat like a broken record in his head. He texted him when he got home, asking if he got home safe, but he never replied. 

Jisung sighed, seeing it was almost time to head to the beach, and he still hadn’t answered his or Chan’s texts. He really hoped he hadn’t made him quit the day before the festival. Chan would absolutely kill him. 

He was getting nervous when it was fifteen minutes past five, and Minho still wasn’t there. It really wasn’t like him to be late, and even Chan was getting worried. Jisung tried to distract himself by practicing, knowing if he had to sing, he could. That was definitely a last resort though because then they would have no backup vocals. 

He jumped when he heard that pretty voice penetrate his eardrums.

“Hey guys—I’m really sorry I’m late,” he apologized quickly, sounding extremely guilty. His face was flushed like he had been running, and Jisung was sure that the pained look from yesterday was still behind his eyes. He looked pretty in his baggy ripped jeans and an oversized black t-shirt. Minho refused to look at him, making his heart shatter. 

“Hey—shit, we were getting worried,” Chan chuckled, making Minho wince a little. 

“I should have texted. I’m sorry—I ran into my old band, and… yeah. They’re here watching tonight,” he said, and Jisung could see a tad of anxiety in his eyes. He was also extremely curious, wondering what they had talked about that had that worried look on Minho’s face. Jisung gripped the neck of his guitar, feeling bothered. 

“This crowd is fucking huge,” Changbin mentioned, looking out to see the hoards of people dancing and drinking on the beach. Jisung could tell he was nervous, but Changbin always got nervous before a gig. 

“There are even more people by the food stands,” Minho mentioned, making Changbin’s eyes widen as he gripped his chest. Chan grasped his shoulders with a smile. 

“Don’t worry—you’ve done this many times before.” 

Changbin sighed. “I know.” 

“Take a page out of Jisung’s book. Just be so confident that there’s no reason to be nervous,” Chan said, smiling in Jisung’s direction. 

“Why would I be nervous? We practiced hard—everything will be fine,” he said. That seemed to make Changbin smile a little. 

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

Jisung looked over to see Minho smiling at him as well, making his heart flutter aggressively. He flicked his eyes away as he went back to tuning his guitar. The end of the season summer sun was still brutal, making it hot during the day but a little colder at night. He knew he would have to keep up on tuning to have a perfect sound. 

They practiced for a bit, grabbed some refreshments, and before they knew it, they were about to go on stage. There were tons of bands playing all day, and the evening bands were definitely the most popular. Jisung was thrilled to see the crowd filtering in as the sun began to set.

He breathed in deeply, hearing the cheer of the crowd as they announced their name. He jumped when he felt a soft hand on his arm, pulling him out of his focus. He turned to see Minho’s soft smile, shyly beaming at him.

“I know you won’t need it—but I always like to say good luck before a performance, so… good luck,” he told him, and Jisung couldn’t help but get captivated as he could see him up close. His makeup looked beautiful, making his eyes pop, shining prettily. There was a slight wave in his hair, and Jisung couldn’t help but reach out and brush a few strands out of his face. 

“Good luck,” he whispered, and he knew he shouldn’t say the next part, but there was a feeling in his heart that was overtaking him. “Show them you belong with us now.” 

Minho blinked at him, a bright blush coming to his cheeks. Before either of them could say anything else, they were being called out onto stage. The cheers were so loud that they vibrated through Jisung’s body. That rush of adrenaline was on overdrive, running through his veins until he was buzzing from it. He could feel it in his extremities as he fingered the strings. He shivered when Minho’s voice sounded through the microphone, introducing their band. Jisung smirked, seeing the confident smile on his face, and he was happy that he couldn’t detect that pained tone. 

Changbin brought them into their first song, clicking his drumsticks together to set the pace. Jisung felt his heart explode with excitement as the crowd cheered with their intro. Minho’s voice made his heart pound, hearing his beautiful vocals boom from the speakers. He was captivated by him instantly, and he could tell the crowd was as well. 

Jisung knew he was getting lost in his sound, watching him on stage. Minho was absolutely beautiful, every single thing about him. He was the prettiest man Jisung had ever laid eyes on. And he had never felt those feelings in his chest before as he watched him perform. 

He snapped out of it when Minho turned to him, giving him a bright smile and pointing at him for a cue. Jisung smiled widely at him, thankful because he would have completely forgotten his solo, thinking about how perfect he was. 

Luckily, he focused just in time, ripping through his solo perfectly and confidently, hitting every note. He couldn’t help but look up to see Minho’s bright eyes shining at him, and his heart exploded when he saw that spark of pure mesmerization in Minho’s eyes. He could barely catch his breath. It was so incredibly hot from the lights, and Minho was looking at him like he was the only one in his view. 

Jisung nodded at him, giving him a similar cue, and he saw Minho snap out of his hypnotic gaze just in time for him to sing the outro. 

The thing about performing was that it always felt like a complete dream to him. It always went by so quickly, and the next thing he knew, they were playing their final song and ending on their final note. He watched the crowd jumping, screaming, and cheering. His eyes glanced over to see Minho breathing heavily, with the sweat slick on his face and neck. Jisung couldn’t believe how fucking gorgeous he looked, with his body shining in the spotlight. 

And he desperately needed to perform with him again. He needed Minho to join their band because once wasn’t enough. He needed to hear his voice over and over again. He needed his sound to compliment his. He loved it. He wanted more of it. 

And he wanted him. 

They waved to the crowd, and Jisung was still coming down from the adrenaline as he watched Minho skip off the stage. He still had the giant, pretty smile on his face as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. 

“Holy shit—like that was—holy shit,” Changbin laughed, shaking his head. “We’ve never had a performance like that before. Did you hear the crowd?” 

“You guys are incredibly fucking talented. You deserve it,” Minho complimented, and Jisung couldn’t help but reach out and grab his hand.

“You were amazing,” he blurted out, right in front of everyone. Chan and Changbin were definitely staring with their mouths wide open, and Minho was looking at him, completely stunned. 

Minho looked like he was trying to say something, but his mouth kept opening and closing as if he weren’t sure what to say.

“He’s right, Minho, you’re super talented, too,” Chan added, and Minho was blushing brightly now. 

“Thanks, guys,” he mumbled with a shy smile, and Jisung noticed him squeeze his hand. Jisung refused to let go and was happy that Minho didn’t pull away. Minho smiled wider at him, and those crinkled eyes were driving his heart wild. 

“Well, I’m going to pack up and then grab something to eat and watch the rest of the bands,” Changbin said, shoving his drumsticks into his back pocket. “Chan—want to join me?” he asked, and Jisung raised an eyebrow, wondering why he didn’t invite him or Minho. 

“I sure do,” Chan said, winking at Jisung before walking away. 

He was about to say something, but Minho pulled on his hand. “Here—let me help you pack up,” he offered, pulling him toward his guitar case. He helped put away all his lyric sheets as Jisung shoved everything into his bag. Once they had everything packed near the back of the stage, Minho grabbed his hand again. 

“Want to head to the beach?” he asked, and Jisung felt his heart flutter.

“Yeah—we can check out the other bands,” Jisung said. Minho chuckled a little—it was such a beautiful sound. 

“I was thinking we could go for a walk. Unless you really want to listen to the other bands, then that’s okay. We can—” 

“I’ll go on a walk with you,” he blurted out, which caused Minho’s smile to widen on his face. 

“Then, let’s go.” Minho tugged him toward the sand, both of them taking off their shoes so they could feel the warmth of the tiny grains on their feet. Normally, Jisung would want to listen to the other bands, but seeing Minho’s pretty brown eyes under the moonlight was even more enticing. He still held his hand, and the soft breeze on his cheeks relaxed him.

It was quiet between them, and honestly, Jisung’s ears were still ringing a little from the performance. His adrenaline was still inside him, and as they walked along the shoreline, it only increased, seeing Minho’s face brighten with a pretty smile. 

His heart hammered when he turned a little, reaching out to grab his other hand. Minho blinked at him for a moment before stepping a bit closer. Jisung felt his breath hitch as he leaned in, their faces so incredibly close. 

“You really impressed me tonight,” he said, and Jisung felt his heart shoot toward the stars that sparkled in the sky. “You’re really an amazing guitar player.” 

Jisung felt his cheeks heat, and that excitement raced through his veins. He could see the mesmerized spark in his eyes again, and those words raced through him. He desperately wanted to say something, but the words were caught in his throat. 

“What? Why do you look so surprised?” Minho asked with a chuckle, and Jisung fucking loved that sound so damn much. 

“I thought—it was impossible to impress you. I thought you didn’t think I was good or that there were others that were better, and maybe that’s why… you never seemed impressed.” 

He couldn’t believe how pathetic that sounded, but it was true. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get his attention. He never complimented him personally, even with Jisung desperately and obviously aching for it. 

“You’re the best guitarist I’ve ever met, Jisung,” he admitted, smiling widely. “You’ve always impressed me.” 

Jisung’s head was whirling. “But then—how come…” he trailed off, sounding a little frustrated. Minho just squeezed his hands. 

“Because I thought you were just an egotistical asshole at first,” he shrugged, making Jisung wince. “But then you showed me that’s not true at all,” he smiled, and Jisung’s gaze flitted away with a little frown. 

Minho chuckled, bringing his hand up to grab his chin. “That’s why I never said anything, because I didn’t want to fuel your ego. But then I realized that the ego I thought you had was just you wanting my attention. And I thought that was so cute that I kept it up.” 

Jisung blushed, scoffing a little. “That’s not true—”

“Really? So you don’t want to hear what I thought of your performance?” he asked, and Jisung swallowed thickly. Because he did want to hear. He wanted to know what Minho was thinking so badly. 

“No… I do… want to hear,” he grumbled, and Minho laughed again. 

“I thought you looked like a natural-born rockstar up there. And I think you’ll have no problem becoming famous someday. I really enjoyed singing with you,” he told him. Jisung wasn’t sure what came over him, but Minho was so close, and his lips glistened in the moonlight. He dove forward to catch his lips and felt Minho gasp into his mouth. 

Jisung’s first thought was that he tasted sweet, like strawberries, and he wondered if it was some kind of flavored chapstick since his lips were so incredibly soft. He had never kissed someone before, but he had desperately wanted Minho’s lips on his, wondering what it was like. His pretty, pouty mouth had been teasing him for weeks, and Jisung had never been curious about the taste of someone else’s lips before. 

He immediately realized what he was doing though, and pulled back, seeing Minho’s eyes wide open and shocked. 

“Shit—um… I’m—”

Jisung was silenced by Minho reattaching their lips, kissing him even deeper. Jisung felt like he was floating, and his skin tingled as Minho wrapped his arms around his neck. He panicked because he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Minho’s mouth was moving against his, but his hands were shaky on his waist. He never felt nervous, but right now, he was freaking out. 

Luckily, Minho pulled back so Jisung could calm his heart. He was breathing a little heavily as Minho pressed his forehead against his. 

“Fuck,” he chuckled, and Jisung’s heart soared again. When he pulled back though, that pained look was on his face again. Jisung immediately cupped his cheek, causing Minho to close his eyes. 

“What’s wrong? Did I… should I not have…” he asked, sounding insecure. 

“No, Jisung. It’s not that…” he murmured, leaning into his touch. 

“Then tell me what’s wrong. Please?” he asked desperately, because he really hated that look on Minho’s face. 

He sighed, and Jisung felt his heart clench. “The reason I left my band… was because I slept with the lead guitarist,” he admitted, causing Jisung’s heart to burn inside his chest. “I was stupid. I liked him a lot, and he knew that, and… I was an idiot for thinking he cared about me. I knew he just liked the attention. He got what he wanted, and the next time we had a show, he went home with someone else.” 

Jisung felt himself shaking, feeling an unreasonable amount of anger, seeing Minho’s broken-looking eyes and hurt face. 

“I freaked out on him, and he said I was crazy for thinking he had feelings, and I…” he sighed, shaking his head. “So, I quit.” Jisung’s heart was snapping over and over, hearing the pain laced in his tone. “That’s why I can’t join your band. Because I like you… and the last time I liked the lead guitarist…” he trailed off, and Jisung felt his heart slam against his ribs. 

“But—I like you too. I’m not like him. Because I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that to you,” he told him, trying to gather his thoughts. Minho slowly looked up, giving him a tiny smile. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been projecting my past experiences onto you, and I know I’ve said some hurtful things—”

Jisung couldn’t help it. He pressed their lips together again. He wanted him to know he didn’t have to apologize for that, and he selfishly wanted to taste that strawberry flavor again. 

When he pulled back, Minho’s pretty brown eyes blinked at him in the moonlight. 

“Minho, I really want you to join our band,” he said desperately. Minho let a smile overtake his lips. 

He contemplated for only a moment, a beautiful chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Okay,” he agreed. 

Jisung pulled him closer, pressing their lips together again. Minho chuckled into his mouth this time, and Jisung felt an intense feeling swirling in his lower gut, hearing it. 

They kissed for a while under the moonlight, and Jisung hoped he wasn’t too obviously inexperienced. But Minho seemed to melt against him as he tried to kiss him deeper. 

The cheers up the shore ended up pulling them apart, and Minho brought his hand up to touch Jisung’s blushed cheek. 

“Want to go check out the rest of the bands?” Minho asked. Jisung nodded, even though he would much rather spend the rest of the evening kissing him on the shoreline. 

“Yeah,” he said instead, trying not to sound reluctant. Minho must have noticed, pressing their lips together one last time before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the crowd. 

He couldn’t help but squeeze his hand tightly as he led him, their feet in the soft sand, and Minho’s beautiful voice speaking to him over his shoulder, relaxing him. 

Minho was listening to him practice in the studio, sitting on the amp and letting his sounds infiltrate him. Jisung smiled as he played, thrilled to see that impressed twinkle in his eye when he looked at him. 

He strummed the final chord of his solo, and Minho looked up at him, his hands resting under his chin. 

“So?” Jisung asked, waiting for his words. 

“What?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

Jisung pouted. “Tell me what you thought.” 

Minho smiled, chuckling a little. “I thought you were a little loud,” he teased, making Jisung narrow his eyes at him. 

“Minho…” he complained, which made him hop off his amp. He approached him with his hands behind his back, leaning on his toes to get closer. 

“You’re so cute when you beg for my praise,” he said, causing Jisung to blush. 

Jisung grabbed the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he became distracted by his soft, pretty voice and tender-looking lips. 

He grumbled when Minho placed his hands on his chest, pushing him back. Minho laughed, seeing his little eye roll. 

“Don’t be a brat because you don’t get what you want,” he told him, poking his cheek. 

“Then quit teasing me,” he warned, grabbing him even closer and tugging him in by the waist. He didn’t even care that his guitar was in the way or that he was supposed to be practicing. Minho was too beautiful, and he wanted to kiss him.

“Chan and Changbin will be here soon,” he told him, tickling under his chin, still keeping himself back. 

“So?”

Minho laughed, shaking his head. Jisung was about to dive in and soak up that beautiful sound with his lips, but the door of the studio was opening. 

Minho tried to push back a little, but Jisung’s hands were still on his hips. He couldn’t let go. He wanted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“Um—hello,” Changbin said, entering with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hey guys,” Minho greeted, prying himself out of Jisung’s arms. He ignored his frustrated groan as he pulled away. 

“You’re late,” Jisung mentioned, and Changbin immediately rolled his eyes. 

“I’m surprised you noticed since you seemed a little busy when we walked in,” he teased, and Jisung’s cheeks reddened. Minho’s face was also a little flushed, but there was a pretty smile on his lips. 

“Come on—let’s get to practice,” Chan said, eyeing them both carefully as usual. “No fighting, you two.”

Jisung decided not to argue as Changbin shrugged and Minho chuckled. He couldn’t help but let a small smile come to his lips. 

It had been a week since the festival and since Minho had agreed to join their band. Chan was thrilled, knowing that having Minho in their band was huge. He really was one of the best vocalists they had ever come across. 

They hadn’t quite told them what was going on between them because they really hadn’t discussed it much themselves. Jisung knew that Minho was still a little afraid to give him his heart, so he decided if he wanted to take it slow, then he would. 

But his curiosity was getting dangerously impatient because every time he was around him, he wanted to take more and more. He wanted more of his touch, his kiss, his love. He wanted to know what it felt like to be with someone. Before, he only cared about music and guitar, but now he desperately cared about Minho. 

He was completely distracted by him during practice, even though he tried to focus. He couldn’t stop thinking about him lately, and it was driving him crazy. He watched the way his tongue came out to lick his lips before singing into the microphone. His beautiful voice sent shivers up his spine as his sound bounced around the studio.

He slowly packed up when it was time to leave, wanting to spend as much time as possible with him. It was the weekend, so Chan and Changbin were going out on the town, but Minho declined, saying he was a little tired. Jisung just copied whatever Minho said, wanting to be with him. 

Chan and Changbin gave them both giant smirks, but before Jisung could question what those faces were all about, they raced out the door. 

Jisung grabbed Minho’s hand after he placed his guitar strap around his body. He was surprised when Minho pulled him in, instantly pressing their lips together. He gasped a little, not expecting it. 

He backed him up until his guitar was pressed against the door, and he was devouring his lips feverishly. 

Jisung wasn’t sure what came over him, but he grabbed Minho by the waist and flipped him, eliciting a shocked gasp as he was now the one being pinned. He chuckled, and Jisung groaned, slamming their mouths together so he could eat those sounds of his.

“You’re exciting me, you know,” he whispered against his lips. Jisung’s entire body shook, hearing his words. He just kissed him deeper, gripping his chin and forcing him to tilt his head back so he could get a better angle. 

Jisung really liked kissing Minho. He probably wasn’t good at it, but Minho never said anything. He knew he probably seemed desperate as he pushed him even harder into the door, pressing a knee between his legs. 

Minho chuckled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, making Jisung want him even more.

“We’re at the studio,” he told him, breaking their kiss. Jisung groaned, always hating the way Minho pulled away. If he had it his way, he would kiss him forever. 

“So?” he asked, similar to earlier. 

“So, settle down, babe,” he whispered into his ear, and Jisung whined at that, hearing his voice so close. 

Jisung let out a huff, and Minho smirked at him, seeing his pout. 

“You were incredible today, by the way,” he said, tickling the back of his neck with his fingers. Jisung’s eyes shot up, feeling all the air leave his lungs when he said that. “You’re always so confident, and I think you look really, really hot when you’re showing off.” 

Jisung pushed him against the door again, maybe a little more forceful than intended, but Minho just chuckled. 

“Minho…” he groaned, pressing their foreheads together. He was losing it. Minho’s beautiful voice. His cute smile and his pretty brown eyes—they were driving him crazy. And those words falling off his tongue had the shivers running up his spine. He craved hearing them from him so much—more than anyone else. Ever since they first met, he had an intense desire for his praise. 

Minho slowly reached his hand down to grab Jisung’s, which was tightly pressed to his waist. Jisung’s entire body shut down when he placed little kisses on his fingertips, feeling the softness of them. 

“Want to know what I kept thinking about you today?” he asked, and those words always made him desperate. Minho knew just how to tease him with them to get him to beg for it. He nodded so quickly that he thought he might get whiplash. “Your fingers always move so fast on the frets. You hit every note perfectly.”

Jisung swallowed nervously when Minho slipped his middle finger past his lips. He could feel his tongue dart out, twirling around it gently. 

Jisung watched him intensely as his pretty pink lips wrapped around his finger, and strange feelings were bubbling in his lower stomach. 

Minho gently detached his mouth from his finger, and Jisung had the urge to shove it right back in, feeling his tongue and forcing his pretty lips to part. 

“I was thinking—I bet you’re really good with your fingers,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to each calloused pad. Jisung blushed, and he had no idea why he nodded, but he was so fucking nervous he couldn’t say that he had never done that before. 

He had never been anything less than extremely confident in everything his entire life, and he wasn’t sure how to admit to Minho that he was a virgin. 

He had never thought about anyone like this before. He never cared about anyone as he did Minho. 

“Want to show me then?” Minho asked, biting the tip of his finger gently and sending Jisung into a spiral. 

“Y—Yeah. I can… show you,” he said, knowing that sounded anything but confident. Minho smiled at him, and his teeth dug into his bottom lip a little. 

“Well, we should probably go to my place—or yours,” he mentioned, trying to push Jisung back a little as he tried to lean in closer. His body was screaming at him that he wanted more, but his mind was begging him to tell Minho that he had no idea what he was doing first. It was too bad his body was a little more aggressive, and a tad more persuasive. 

“Let’s go to yours,” Jisung suggested, because he knew Minho’s apartment was a little closer, and he was so impatient it was embarrassing. 

Jisung practically yanked him out of the studio and tugged him down the street, but Minho didn’t seem to mind. He was following right behind him, squeezing his hand every few steps. 

There wasn’t much talking on their walk like there normally was—probably because Jisung was seconds away from letting his curiosity take over his entire mind. He kept thinking he wanted to know what Minho’s skin tasted like on his tongue. He wanted to see what he was hiding underneath his giant sweater. He wondered if he was just as pretty, completely stripped from head to toe. 

His thoughts were driving him crazy because they were crazy. He never thought about these sexual things before ever in his life. Sure, he masturbated like every average guy, but he never thought about having actual sex with someone. But he had the thoughts of Minho’s naked image in his mind, and he desperately needed to see it, real and tangible, in front of him. 

He was sweating by the time they got to Minho’s apartment from nerves and walking a little too quickly. Minho carefully opened the door, and Jisung wondered if he was moving slowly to tease him. He finally opened the door, and Jisung was done going slow. He pushed him in and slammed the door shut, pressing their mouths together and pinning him to the door like he had in the studio. 

Minho chuckled again, trying to wrap his arms around Jisung’s shoulders, but Jisung grabbed his wrists, pinning them beside his head. 

“You like it a little rough, huh?” Minho asked, and Jisung felt his heart explode. He had no idea, so he just dove in to capture his lips. He hadn’t meant to squeeze Minho’s wrists so tightly until he whined, but that beautiful sound had his entire brain short-circuiting. 

“I can do rough… but you have to kiss me a lot,” he told him. Jisung didn’t have to be told twice, kissing him even deeper than before. The taste of Minho’s lips was addicting. He wanted more of that strawberry flavor. 

Minho let him devour him until both of them could barely breathe. Minho had to push him back by the chest again, and Jisung felt like he lost his sanity, seeing his pink plump lips, begging to be kissed over and over again. 

“My room—we should… go to my room.” Minho was breathless, and his eyes were a little hazy. Jisung really fucking liked the way his voice sounded all gravelly like that. Before he could kiss him again like a maniac, Minho pulled him down the hall and pressed open the door. His room was tiny, and his bed was definitely not big enough for the two of them, but Jisung didn’t care in the slightest. 

Minho turned to face him, and there was a blush on his cheeks. He didn’t say anything as he sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling Jisung along with him. He stopped in front of him, fitting between his knees. He reached down to press his thumb against Minho’s lips, which were still a beautiful red from Jisung’s impatient mouth. 

“Minho—you’re so beautiful. I—I’ve always thought that,” he told him, and he could see Minho’s breath hitch a little. 

“Really?” he asked, and Jisung nodded. He didn’t have the courage to say anything else, but he needed him to know that since the first day they met, he thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. So much so, that he shook his entire world up, and had him feeling all these things he never felt before. But he had no idea how to say that out loud without it sounding completely embarrassing. 

“Since we first met,” he said, because that was all he could manage. It made Minho bite his lip with a pretty smile. 

“You’re really sweet—and so fucking cute.” Jisung gasped when he grasped the waistband of his jeans. “I really want you to fuck me.” 

Jisung swallowed nervously. His brain was screaming at him once again. He needed to tell him that he had never touched someone like that before, but before he could, Minho was unbuttoning his pants and making his heart race so fast that nothing would come out. 

He tugged them down, and Minho scooted closer, pressing a kiss to his hip where his skin was now showing. His hands were lost, unsure of where to touch. He opted for placing one on the top of his head, gripping it tightly. He saw Minho wince a little, but his pretty smile didn’t fade. 

“Hair puller?” he asked, and Jisung wished he would stop asking him questions that he didn’t know the answer to. He had no idea what he liked, or how to do it. He’d never even had someone this close before. 

“Um… no, I can let go, sorry—”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he told him with a giant grin. Jisung’s heart was in danger, seeing those big brown eyes blink up at him with his cock so close to his face. He was incredibly turned on, and they had done nothing. All he had done was kiss him a few times and Jisung knew that was embarrassing. 

Minho didn’t mention anything though as he hooked his fingers into his boxers and pulled down. Jisung let out a sharp gasp, feeling himself exposed to the cold air. His eyes were locked on Minho’s face, wanting to see his expression. His heart exploded when he saw that impressed look in his eye. 

When he looked up to catch his gaze, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Minho was gorgeous, and Jisung’s entire body flinched when he reached up to grip him in his hand. Somehow, his hands were even warmer than Jisung’s burning skin, and that made him melt into his touch. It felt so good. All he had done was drag his hand up a little, but Jisung’s knees felt like they were going to buckle. 

Jisung’s chest was moving up and down rapidly, especially when he saw Minho’s tongue come out to swipe over the slit. He couldn’t help but let out a breathy little moan because the feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt before. 

He heard Minho chuckle a bit as he pressed a kiss to the head, feeling the vibrations and forcing him to grab onto Minho’s shoulder. 

“Wow, you’re sensitive, huh?” he asked, and Jisung shrugged. He couldn’t help but brush away the few pieces of hair that fell into Minho’s eyes. He liked seeing them clearly. He looked even prettier with Jisung’s cock pressed to his lips, and he felt like he was going to pass out at the sight. 

Minho didn’t say anything else before wrapping his lips around him, teasing his tongue around the tip. Jisung felt the sparks fly through his system and he accidentally gripped Minho’s hair even harder. That elicited a soft moan from him, and his voice was going to make him lose his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off him as he slid down halfway, taking him in perfectly. The drag of his lips was slow and teasing, and Jisung couldn’t get a hold of his breathing as unsteady breaths came in and out of his lungs. Minho’s mouth was incredibly warm and wet, and he had no idea something could feel so intense. 

When he pushed down even farther, Jisung was shocked to feel the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. Minho’s pretty brown eyes blinked up at him as he took him all the way. Jisung had his hand buried in his hair, threatening to yank the strands out of his head. He didn’t mean to pull so hard, but the feelings inside him needed to exit his body somewhere. 

He didn’t mean to push forward either, and he felt bad when Minho choked a little, pulling back instantly. 

“I’m—sorry. I didn’t—” 

He went to apologize, but Minho just grabbed his thighs with both hands, pushing him back down his throat. His fingernails dug into his skin, and Jisung could feel the burn of the pain, but the pleasure was so much more intense that he barely even registered it. Minho’s throat was constricting around him, and he wondered if he could feel him shaking uncontrollably. There was an intense feeling swirling in his lower stomach, and it was increasing, bigger and bigger, and he knew if Minho kept shoving his cock in his throat, he wouldn’t be able to hold it back. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. Minho was bobbing up and down at a faster pace now, and Jisung was losing his mind at the drag of his upper lip as he took in the length of his cock. He was beautiful, with blushed cheeks and tears in his eyes as he slammed Jisung into his throat. Jisung’s jaw dropped, seeing him pressed all the way down, with his eyes blinking prettily up at him. 

“Minho—fuck—I—you’re so—”

He had no idea what to say. There were so many thoughts scrambled in his head that he couldn’t get a coherent sentence to come past his lips. But Minho looked so perfect, so hot, and Jisung was going to lose it any moment if he continued to look at him like that. 

He had to pull out, leaving Minho a surprised choking, and coughing mess. His lips were obscenely red, with spit dripping down his chin. Jisung couldn’t stop looking as he wiped at his mouth.

“Too much?” Minho smirked, and Jisung nodded his head again. Because his cock was throbbing, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself by cumming too fast. It was painful to hold back, but he took a deep breath and tried to focus, even though Minho’s little chuckles almost had him exploding again. 

“Come here,” Minho said, pulling him by the wrist. He quickly kicked off his jeans that had been pooled around his ankles and crawled onto the bed where Minho was tugging him. Minho grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, smirking as he ran a teasing finger along his chest. 

Jisung was about to lose his head again, seeing Minho lay down against the mattress. He couldn’t help himself as he quickly ran his fingers underneath his shirt, pulling the fabric up so he could get a look at his skin. 

“You can take it off,” Minho told him, and that’s all the confirmation Jisung needed to grab it and rip it from his body. Minho chuckled a little at his forcefulness, but he was going crazy. He placed a wide hand on his stomach, feeling the softness of his skin. He was beautiful—and Jisung suddenly wanted to press his lips to it and mark up the beautiful white canvas. He did just that, sucking little red marks on his chest and all the way up toward his neck until he had Minho giggling. 

“Hey—be careful. You’ll leave bruises if you do that,” he told him, trying to push at his chest, but Jisung couldn’t be stopped. Every time he sucked his skin just hard enough, a moan would leave Minho’s lips, and he wanted to hear more. He sucked aggressively on his neck, and Minho tilted his head so he could get better access. He knew he was being a little rough, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Minho so badly that it hurt. 

“Fuck—Jisung that’s… going to definitely bruise,” he whined, and Jisung’s shaky breath wafted over his neck as he kissed at the mark he just left there. He looked down to see the redness and the soft purple, and he instantly felt a little guilty. 

“Your skin is really pretty,” he breathed out. Minho let out an airy chuckle. 

Before Minho could reply, Jisung slammed their lips together, eating his words. He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to devour him in every way possible. Minho grabbed his hand then and placed it on his waistband, and Jisung instantly got the hint. He pulled back because he desperately wanted to see him. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, and he was definitely moving a little too quickly because when he yanked down, Minho’s body moved along with it. 

Minho chuckled softly again, probably noticing his desperation, but he didn’t say anything. He actually threw his head back and refused to look at him when Jisung finally got his pants down past his thighs, and his cock was now in front of his eyes to see. 

And he was fucking beautiful. Just like Jisung had imagined, and just like every other part of him. He was thick and red around the tip, and Jisung couldn’t help himself, reaching out to touch him. Minho’s body shivered at his grip, especially when he pumped him a few times.

“Holy— ah—” 

Jisung’s hand moved even faster, wanting to hear more of those beautiful sounds of his. 

Minho’s hand came out to grip his wrist, stopping him. He slowly spread his legs, and Jisung’s eyes went wide as he pulled his hand from his cock, and placed it even lower. 

“I want to know what those fingers can do,” he whispered.

Jisung completely panicked. 

“I—um… Minho, I—” 

“There’s lube under my bed,” he told him.

That made him panic even worse. Because right now, Minho had his legs opened for him, asking him to touch him in a way he had never done before. His heart was hammering with nervousness, and he wondered if this was the feeling Changbin had when he looked out at the crowd last week. He wondered if this was what stagefright was like. 

“Minho, wait…” he choked out, pulling his hand away. Minho looked shocked, leaning up on his elbows. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, looking nervous himself. He wondered what kind of expression he had on his face that made him reach out and caress his thigh so tenderly.  

“I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, and Minho’s jaw dropped a little bit.

“What?” he asked, looking surprised. That made Jisung blush deeply. 

“I’ve never… you’re the first person I’ve ever been with.” 

Minho still looked like he was trying to process what he was saying.

“Wait—you’re serious?” 

Jisung nodded. 

“When we kissed on the beach… that was my first kiss, too.” 

Minho’s eyes somehow became even wider. He sat up, cupping Jisung’s cheek. 

“Hold on—you’re telling me I was your first kiss?” 

Jisung bit his lip, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner, but—I was nervous. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I know it’s embarrassing to be twenty-three and never kiss someone, but I’ve only ever cared about music. I’ve never liked someone like this, so—” 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Minho interrupted him, smiling. “Fuck—Jisung, that’s—” he shook his head, blushing himself. “You’ve really never kissed someone before?” he asked, biting his lip hard. Jisung wanted to take it between his own teeth as he stared at it. 

He shook his head, and Minho let out a soft puff of air. 

“Well—I couldn’t tell if that makes you feel a little less nervous,” he said, and Jisung felt his heart swell. “Honestly, for never having kissed someone, I thought you were pretty good at it,” he praised, and Jisung’s body shivered, hearing that. 

“Really?” he asked, sounding incredibly desperate. 

Minho nodded. “You’re talented in more ways than one.” 

Jisung’s heart soared, and he couldn’t help but capture Minho’s lips again, feeling a little bit of his confidence restored. Minho chuckled, and Jisung wished he could record it and listen to the sound on repeat forever. 

“Do you want to keep going?” he asked, and Jisung quickly nodded. There was no way he wanted to stop. That curiosity was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah—I’ve been thinking about this a lot—I really want you, Minho.” 

Jisung swore he heard a little whine leave Minho’s lips, and he confirmed it when he closed his eyes and threw his head back a little. Jisung took the opportunity to kiss his neck again, leaving another small mark and making Minho whine even louder. 

“Okay—grab the stuff under my bed and—show me what those fingers can do, okay?” 

Jisung was definitely acting a little too hasty, but he didn’t care. Minho didn’t seem to mind either as he jostled him around on the bed. He grabbed the tiny bottle, and Minho was leaning over to reach into his bedside drawer. He cursed as he rifled around in it. 

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, and Jisung looked at him curiously.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I thought—fuck, I thought I had condoms in here, but….” he slammed the door shut, exhaling a little as he laid back on the bed. “I guess I don’t.” 

Jisung bit his lip, and Minho eyed him carefully. 

“Do we have to use one?” he asked, and Minho’s face blushed deeply. 

“I mean—you’ve never before… and I’ve always used condoms with others… so… I mean, if you’re okay with it?” 

Jisung would be okay with anything. He wanted Minho so badly that he wasn’t sure he could fathom not having him. 

He nodded quickly, and Minho just chuckled. 

“Fuck—okay, well—then this is new for me, too. I’ve never had someone fuck me without one.” 

Jisung wasn’t sure why that made his heart flip in his chest, with nervousness settling in once again.

Minho laid back on the bed again, his legs spread even wider. Jisung felt breathless as he saw Minho’s hands tangled in the bed sheets.

“Don’t just stare,” he mumbled, and Jisung looked up to see a pretty blush dusting all the way down to his chest. He quickly grabbed the lube and placed a generous amount on his fingers. He was shaking, and he knew Minho would be able to feel it when he touched him. 

He tried to calm down, but he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to please him. It was so difficult to get him to be impressed before, and it was weighing on him a little. 

Minho must have noticed because he tapped his thigh. “Are you nervous?” he asked, and Jisung just shrugged. He didn’t want to outright admit it because that would definitely bruise his ego a little. Minho smiled, seeing his uncertain face. “Don’t be,” he tried to tell him, but Jisung sighed. 

“But what if you don’t like it? What if… you’re not impressed?” He couldn’t help but voice his concerns. 

Minho just squeezed his thigh. 

“You always impress me,” he whispered. Jisung’s heart swirled with confidence, seeing his smile and that spark in his pretty brown eyes. 

Minho gasped when he pushed his legs up a little, finally getting a good look between his legs. He heard Minho whine as he touched his rim. Jisung was in complete awe. He really was beautiful everywhere, inside and out. 

He lathered him with the liquid he warmed in his fingers, and he could see his body jolting with every touch. 

“Fuck—your fingers are rough,” he moaned, and Jisung’s heart jumped. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, knowing it must have been uncomfortable with the calluses on the pads of his fingers. 

“No—don’t be. It feels good.”

Jisung twitched when he heard that, and he was desperately aching for him. 

He slowly breached a finger in, and if he thought Minho’s voice was beautiful before, it was extremely beautiful now as he let out a high-pitched whine. Jisung was completely mesmerized by it, pushing in deeper to get more of that sound. Minho’s hands grasped the bed sheets tightly, and his back arched a little. He looked so fucking beautiful, with his hair covering his lust-filled eyes, a blush painting his soft skin, and his pretty pink lips slightly parted. 

“Jisung…” he whispered his name. Jisung was losing his fucking mind, hearing that beautiful voice call out to him. 

He fucked his finger in the best he could. He wasn’t sure what pace was best or how hard he should do it, but he watched Minho’s face, studying his reactions and listening to his beautiful moans to tell him what to do. 

He realized he liked it deep and at a quicker pace and continued to fuck one finger in and out of his body until he felt his hand on his thigh. 

“You can… add another one,” he told him, and Jisung couldn’t handle how wrecked his voice sounded.

Jisung knew he wasn’t saying much, but he was captivated by Minho’s moans. He didn’t want to dilute the sound, wanting it to be the only vibrations bouncing around his room. He was gorgeous as he pressed against his fingers, moving his hips desperately. 

“Jisung—fuck—you’re so good—at this,” he moaned between thrusts, and Jisung’s entire chest swelled with intense emotion as he said that. 

He wanted him to say it again. He wanted to hear him say that he was making him feel good, over and over. He loved that he was moaning because of him. It fueled that ego of his, making him fuck his fingers in faster. 

Minho sounded beautiful, his whining getting louder as he added a third finger without him asking. He was whimpering a little, and Jisung needed to eat those sounds. He pressed in deep, leaning over him and slotting their lips together. Minho’s hands detached from the sheets and came up to grab Jisung’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin slightly.

Jisung kissed him deeply, sliding their tongues together and devouring every sound that came from his throat. He was barely letting him breathe, his whimpers making him greedy to hear more. 

“Jisung… fuck… your fingers… they feel so… hngh…”  

“Am I doing good?” Jisung asked, needing to hear him say it. Minho pressed their foreheads together, and he moaned even louder as Jisung angled his fingers a little differently. He liked that sound so much that he continued to press at the spot, feeling Minho’s body shake and shiver.

“Yes—yes. Fuck, babe, you’re doing so good. Keep—doing that. Right there, right there, right there,” he moaned against his lips, and Jisung couldn’t believe how fucking beautiful he looked. And he wanted more words. He was being completely selfish, but he needed them. 

“Are you impressed? Do you like it?” he asked, and Minho whined even louder. 

“Your fingers—are deep. You’re—fucking me so good—I want—deeper.” 

Jisung was in awe at his beauty—and he wanted to give him everything he asked for. He fucked him even faster, and he might have been too rough, but Minho just spread his legs wider. 

“Jisung—no more—”

Those words were like a switch, quickly taking his fingers out. He panicked, seeing the tears squeeze past Minho’s eyes. 

“Minho—fuck. I didn’t mean to—did I hurt you? Was it bad?” The anxiety in his tone was thick, and Minho had to quickly grab his hand and shake his head. 

“No—oh my—fuck, Jisung. No, baby, that was so fucking good. I just—was about to cum and…shit, I want you to fuck me really bad.” 

Minho’s hands were shaky, and Jisung’s were as well. They both seemed nervous now as Jisung just stared at him, blinking. 

“Okay—I can,” he said, and Minho smiled a little. 

“If you’re nervous, I can ride you for a bit. Show you how,” he offered. Jisung squeezed his hand so tightly that Minho winced a little. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. Minho must have noticed him struggling because he just grabbed his waist and flipped them. His back was now pressed to the mattress, and Minho grabbed the lube beside them. Jisung shivered as Minho coated his cock with it, pumping him up and down a few times. 

“Fuck you’re so hard,” he breathed out, and Jisung flushed as he swung his legs over his thighs with his ass flush on his skin. He raised his hips a little, and Jisung reached out to grab them. He hovered over his cock, and Jisung felt all the air leave his lungs as the tip pressed against his rim. 

Minho let out a whine so loud that Jisung thought he was going to cum just from hearing it. He was so tight, and he had no idea the feeling would be so intense. He had Minho’s waist gripped so hard, and he knew he had to be hurting him a little because he could see the indents from his fingers on his skin. 

He looked up to see his eyes lidded, watching him carefully as he slid down his cock. Jisung couldn’t believe how warm and tight he was, and he had to hold his breath because Minho’s pretty little moans were driving him crazy. 

He sank all the way down, with Minho’s thighs meeting his. Minho’s hand grazed over his lower abdomen for a moment, pushing slightly before letting out another moan. 

“Does it feel good?” Jisung asked, getting nervous because he wasn’t saying anything. 

Minho nodded quickly, grabbing Jisung’s hand, which was resting on his hip, and placing it on his stomach.

“Your cock…” he whispered, and Jisung felt his heart explode again. “Feel it?” 

Jisung was in awe, seeing the bulge there. His stomach swelled with the outline of it. Jisung almost came as he tickled his fingers over his skin, feeling the bump. 

“I can feel it,” he told him, pressing like he had. When he did, a little moan escaped Minho’s lips. Jisung played around with it, making Minho shiver and whimper as he sat on him. 

Jisung gasped when Minho started to move his hips, grinding on him. 

“Fuck—I really like your cock, Jisung,” he moaned, and Jisung grabbed his waist hard again as he twisted his hips in little circles. 

“Does it feel good? You look—so pretty, Minho.”

Minho threw his head back with a soft chuckle, lifting his hips and fucking himself back down. It was an unbelievable feeling, and Jisung wasn’t sure if he could take it. 

“Yes—it feels so fucking good. You’re—such a fucking cutie. Did you know that?” he asked, and Jisung just shook his head, breathing deeply as he tried not to cum deep into Minho’s perfect body. 

Minho leaned forward then, resting his hands on Jisung’s stomach, pushing himself up and slamming back down. Jisung bit his lip, trying not to moan because all he wanted to hear was Minho’s beautiful voice. 

“You want to know—how good you are, don’t you, baby?” Minho teased. Jisung could feel him slipping out as he pulled back up, but before his cock could be released, Minho took him back down all the way so their hips were flushed and he was as deep as he could get. 

“You’re so—fucking good. You’re so talented—Jisung. The best guitar player—I’ve ever heard,” he told him between bounces, and Jisung gripped him even tighter. “Your cock is—just as fucking perfect.”

Jisung felt his body twitching, his hands grabbing at him like he wanted to take over. But Minho looked so beautiful on top of him, taking his cock deeply, and moaning on it. His chest was flushed, and his pretty cock was bouncing between them, red and aching. Jisung watched, mesmerized as his puffy red rim sucked his cock in over and over again. 

“Fuck—fuck—fuck.” 

His voice was so loud, but Jisung wouldn’t have it any other way. He moved his hands around to grip his ass, liking the squish of his flesh between his fingers. Minho was so soft, and he found himself kneading him as he bounced on his cock. 

“You—wanna touch my ass?” he asked, smirking. “You can fuck me doggy—play with it all you want.” 

Jisung’s heart was going to give out. Because suddenly, the thought of Minho bent over with his ass in the air was killing him. 

Minho chuckled when Jisung nodded aggressively, desperately wanting to fuck him. He slowly slid off his cock, and Jisung couldn’t help but stare at where they were just connected. 

Minho pulled Jisung’s wrist as he knelt on the bed, placing his cheek on the mattress. He glanced at him with a pretty smile on his face. Jisung was still on his back, looking over at him, mesmerized. 

“Come on,” Minho mumbled, trying to pull him out of his trance by shaking his ass in the air a little. 

Jisung quickly sat up, getting behind him. He couldn’t believe his eyes, staring at him and wondering how he was ever going to stop thinking about how beautiful Minho looked on all fours. 

He gripped his cheek, loving how soft he was. 

“Please,” Minho whined, knowing that Jisung was staring again. Jisung tried to snap out of it, slowly reaching out to place his shaky hands on his skin. He spread him, loving the way his rim looked pink and puffy, just like his lips, inviting him in. 

He slowly lined up, and the euphoric feeling of slipping into Minho’s body was something so out of this world it was hard for him to maintain consciousness. His breathy moans as he pressed in deeper were driving him crazy. When he reached as deep as he could go, Minho grabbed his hand that caressed his cheek. 

“Fuck me—show me how fucking good you are…”

That’s all Jisung needed to lose his mind. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward, both of them letting out loud whines at the feeling. Jisung plunged in and out of him—watching his cock disappear into his body. He was amazed at the stretch, wondering how Minho was taking him so perfectly. 

He closed his eyes, listening to the beautiful sounds. Minho’s pretty moans, their erratic breathing, their skin slapping together. It was perfect and beautiful, and he could listen to it forever. 

He fucked him hard and fast, and he thought he was going to die as Minho started moaning even louder. 

“You’re—so good. So good—Jisung. It feels—ah—fuck me—fuck me harder—it’s so fucking good.”

He stroked his ego with every word, making him fuck him deeper. He wanted to hear more of it. He loved the way Minho praised him for doing well. 

“Minho—if you keep—your voice is going to make me cum,” he whispered to him, eliciting a loud whine from Minho. 

“Is it? You like—when I tell you that you’re good?” he asked, and Jisung could see his small smirk. 

“Yes—I want to make you feel good. I want to impress you,” he admitted, blushing a little, but he was so close to exploding that he didn’t even care.

“You have, baby. You—impress me so much. You have my attention—all of it,” he told him, and Jisung’s heart clenched. 

“Fuck…” 

Jisung couldn’t hold back anymore—his hips stuttering into Minho’s ass as he came deep inside him. His entire body shivered with a blinding pleasure, and he could feel Minho clench around him, making it even tighter. He released everything he had, never knowing it could feel so good, cumming inside something so warm and soft. He never had an orgasm so intense. He was twitching inside him, emptying everything he had, painting him with his liquids. He rocked his hips, draining his cock fully before pulling out to see Minho’s twitching rim, clenching around nothing but air. 

Jisung’s leaned back on his heels, breathing heavily as he took in the beautiful sight in front of him. 

“Holy fuck—you just finished inside me,” Minho chuckled, hiding his face in the mattress. Jisung’s heart sank, realizing instantly that maybe that wasn’t okay. He didn’t tell him he could do that, and now he was panicking. 

“I’m—Minho, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No—don’t be sorry. No one has ever done that before,” he sounded shy, and his ass was still in the air. Jisung felt his heart flutter as he saw it starting to drip from his rim. 

Jisung flinched as he saw Minho still hard between his legs, and suddenly he felt like a total asshole, finishing before him and leaving him aching. 

“Shit—Minho, you need to cum, too.”

He quickly touched his cock, hard and dangling between him, making him yelp a little in shock. 

“Just—I’m so close, so if you just…touch me,” he mumbled, humping into Jisung’s fist. 

“Can I finger you again? I’m sorry I came early. I was—you felt so good, and I couldn’t—”

Minho whined, hiding his face in the mattress. 

“But… your cum is…” he trailed off, sounding embarrassed. 

Jisung slowly touched his messy hole, and when Minho just whimpered, he slowly pressed his fingers inside. He was even wetter than before, and Jisung could feel his cum sloshing around inside of him. 

“Jisung, ah—”

The sounds were captivating, the wet slickness making beautiful sounds. He was a little less tight on his fingers now, having his cock stretch him open perfectly. 

Minho was writhing on his fingers, barely able to keep his ass in the air. Jisung had one hand on his cock, the other pumping his fingers into his ass, and his lips pressing little kisses along his spine. 

“God, your fucking fingers, Jisung,” he moaned, making Jisung smirk. 

“I am an incredible guitar player. I should have known I’d be good at it.” 

Normally, Minho would chuckle, but instead, he moaned even louder. 

“It feels—I’m gonna cum—”

Before Jisung could even respond, Minho’s body spasmed, and he was releasing all over his hand and on the bed sheets below him. Jisung decided that the most beautiful sound he made was when he was cumming from his hands and whining with his name on his tongue. 

Minho collapsed, and Jisung helped his body fall to the mattress. 

He was absolutely fucking beautiful—with his blissed-out face lying on his side, with Jisung leaking from his rim, his cock twitching from pleasure, and giant breaths moving his chest. 

Jisung couldn’t help but brush his hair out of his eyes, wanting to see them. 

“I don’t get how anyone who saw you like this wouldn’t want to keep seeing it over and over again,” he breathed out, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’re so pretty. And your voice is so pretty. And—Minho, I really like you. I know we haven’t talked about it, but… I want to be with you.”

Minho grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

“I want to be with you too,” he whispered, and Jisung’s heart swelled. 

Jisung slammed their lips together, unable to control himself. When he pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together, blushing when he took in Minho’s beautiful body again. “Am—am I crazy that I want to do that again?” 

Minho smiled lazily at him, clearly exhausted. 

“You’re not crazy,” he chuckled, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm. “Give me a few minutes, and you can fuck me again.” 

Jisung’s heart jumped in his chest, along with his cock, which was hard again.

“Really?” 

Minho nodded. “But you have to be gentle because I’m a little sore.” 

Jisung nodded, soothing Minho’s soft skin on his hips as he rolled onto his back. 

“If—we don’t have to…” 

Minho reached out to cup his cheek, bringing him in for a soft and gentle kiss. Minho tasted like strawberries. 

“I want to. Besides, that must have meant it was good, right? It was your first time, and you want to fuck me again right after, so it seems like it was good,” he teased, and Jisung nodded his head. 

“I want to fuck you again so badly. You were—you felt so good, Minho.” 

Minho chuckled, tickling the back of his neck with his fingers. He slowly reached down, tapping the tip of Jisung’s cock and making him shudder. 

“Then fuck me. Look at me this time—and maybe ask permission before you cum inside me,” he said. Jisung’s entire body shivered, feeling Minho guide him to where he was open and waiting for him. 

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, blushing. Minho just chuckled—his favorite sound. 

“It’s okay—I’m just teasing you,” he said, pulling him down by his neck, forcing him to breach him as he tugged him down. “Fuck—you feel so good.” 

Jisung fucked him again. Slower this time, and Minho moaned loudly when he asked if he could cum inside him. 

He was an absolute mess when he pulled out, and Jisung could see his eyes were practically closed. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asked, causing Minho’s eyes to open slightly.

“Across the hall,” he mumbled with a content look on his face. He ran out of the bedroom and quickly opened the bathroom, grabbing a wet towel so he could clean the mess he just made. 

Minho hissed at the touch as his body was completely limp. His rim was even puffier now, and Jisung felt a little guilty. But sex with Minho was amazing. 

“Come cuddle,” Minho whined as Jisung threw the towel back in the bathroom. 

He slid in behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Minho turned to face him, smiling at him brightly. 

Minho pecked his lips, and Jisung blushed a little, seeing his satisfied face. 

“Have I told you that I think you’re stupidly talented—in more ways than one?” he asked, and Jisung shrugged. 

“I don’t think so. I think I have to hear you say it again,” he smirked, making Minho smack his chest. 

“You’re such a brat,” he laughed, and Jisung loved that sound. “But you’re really talented. And I’m really glad we met.” 

Jisung’s heart swelled as Minho pressed his face into his chest, snuggling into his arms. 

“Me too,” he whispered. 

It was quiet for a few moments before Minho pulled back with an even bigger smile. 

“Are you ready for the gig next week?” he asked, and Jisung nodded. 

“I’m always ready,” he told him, making Minho laugh again. 

“I guess I should have known that answer, huh?”

Jisung bit his lip. “But I’m really excited that I get to play with you again. I love hearing your voice blend with my sound,” he admitted, and Minho’s eyes went wide. His shocked face gently turned into a pretty smile. 

“And I love singing with your music.” 

Jisung smiled too, placing a gentle kiss on Minho’s lips. Jisung held him tightly, listening to the sweet sound of Minho’s voice as it lulled him to sleep.