one could assume minhae was never a man of love because he had never really felt it before, nothing so intentse as he felt with haebin. it was like the other knew exactly how to touch, what buttons to push, to make him feel all worked up. his skin was on fire against his touch, and it only burned more as he tried to pleasure him. he was fool, really. everything about was too intense and he didn’t realize how lost he was in haebin already. but wasn’t that love ? he refused to believe such feelings, but being with haebin was like a drug and minhae knew too well what that could mean. sure, he wasn’t a frequent user like he had been once before, avoided them entirely most times, but that was because he knew how addicting they could be. and haebin is his drug. he could only be. head turns over his shoulder towards the half-naked man, chewing on his bottom lip. it was like the moment of emotion and weakness had washed over in the shower, but the infinite feeling of wanting to be loved and not fucked still seemed to crush any and every thought of sex. because haebin didn’t love him. no, and he didn’t love haebin. then why did it felt so much like a lie ? why did right now, saying he didn’t love haebin sounded like he was pulling his teeth with lies ? because maybe he loved haebin, he loved him like he loved his brothers —— except brothers don’t fuck. his eyes close for a moment, trying to focus on not ripping that fucking towel apart, soothing voice leaving his plump lips “ — i thought we celebrate. life. being able to … enjoy moments like these. “ head gently leaning towards his touch, lips finding sweet release against the other’s, moving in a gentle slow motion, only increasing his desire to feel closer to the other. fuck. this couldn’t be happening. “ — they said fifteen minutes ? didn’t request anything … needing to be cooked. “
but there it was again, the infinite desire of feeling him, of feeling his burning skin against him and he takes no time to do as he pleases. soon he’s stranding him against the bed, knees in both of his sides as his clothed chest presses against his — he doesn’t want to feel himself fall, but is this really falling ? their kiss is slow and intense, he feels his tongue tasting him, feeling him and he can’t help but feel intimidated ( or maybe that was the submissive in him ). it was always so easy with haebin, that he forgot his sadistic side most often, dainty hands travelling down his torso and tugging the towel below, not sure what he wanted to do. he doesn’t want to be fucked. he wants to be loved. and he isn’t sure how to express it; express this feeling of clinginess, of despair to hold to the one thing that he needs the most. it’s getting more intense, and soon he knows it willl be too late to reject him. palms press his chest gently, cheeks flustered about the mount as he pushes — only so gentlly. he finds himself panthing lightly, looking nothing but like someone he despised — someone with feelings. “ — i don’t … want to do it like we usually do. “ he mutters and he hates himself for it. look how pathetic he sounds. eyes shut quickly, because maybe if he doesn’t see him, it doesn’t cost him as much “ — i need … you. to make love to me. “ he hopes the other understands what he means; if he doesn’t, he would probably laugh and say he was kidding. but he needs to be taken seriously.
it was never a cycle when it came to minhae. every kiss was a new type of saccharine, every touch was a more meaningful burn, every sound was a new ostinato to haebin, repeating over and over in his head, never getting enough each note he hit. he'd never really thought about it before — love. when was the last time he truly loved someone? he could remember but chose to forget. love was foreign to him now, love was an unidentifiable emotion hidden under the years of trauma from being emotionally toyed with. was minhae an exception? it didn't matter at the moment. all haebin was focused on was the man right in front of him, the man who was always right next to him, the man who would never leave him behind. the way minhae could unravel him as if he was nothing was astounding; not many people could do that by just being who they are. haebin doubt himself as he pulled the other on to his lap, hissing at the friction on top of him. he’d only loved one person before in his life, daniel, but that ended, it crashed and burned. the way their relationship had crumbled; he doesn’t want that with minhae. the fear of tearing minhae apart ate at him as he worked his hands up and down the other’s back — he was afraid of what pain he’s capable of ensuing on the love of his life. as his lover broke off the kiss, haebin glanced up at the man on his lap, the panting of the other driving him crazy. he took in the view in front of him: his hungry eyes, his plump lips, minhae's dainty hands resting on top of his chest, rhythmically rising and falling. he was beautiful — everything more, nothing less.
“make… make love?” haebin repeated, eyes trailing down his body before moving up to look at minhae, his splendor. he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle to see the other, eyes glued shut, patiently waiting for his response. he found it cute; of course, haebin would do anything at minhae’s request, but a wish for something gentle and tender was nothing he’d ever expect. haebin let his arms fall from minnie’s back and slink towards the palms on his chest, lacing their fingers together. “of course, minhae.” his short and sweet response spoke more than what was said as he pulled the other closer, moving their hands to his side and connecting there lips again. haebin made an effort to kiss minhae differently — he wanted to make sure minhae feels how much love churns inside his heart whenever he’s near. delicate moans and the friction between them was enough to push haebin over the edge, slowly stripping minhae of his robe and himself of his thin towel, deepening the kiss they shared. he didn’t even care when the hotelier came, [ was that them right now? he couldn’t be bothered to open the door anyway. ] the only thing on his mind was minhae. minhae, minhae minhae, like the name of a god echoing over and over again. his skin was inviting and soft, the way it’d always been. their bodies blend together that night, panting and dulcet whimpers being the only sound resounding from their hotel room. dark faded into light, the rays of the next morning’s sun shining across his face. haebin’s eyes fluttered open to find himself sleeping next to minhae, arm draped over the other and chin resting on his shoulder and neck. the subtle morning was perfect to match the connection they’d had; it was something he’d never experienced before, something that completely redefined the beauty of finding another person. smiling contentedly at his recollection of the night prior he nibbled at his lover’s shoulder, pecking him softly to wake him up.
