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Summary
Minho wants to fuck Mr Han.
Minho wants to fuck Mr Han badly.
He had moved into the house next door about three weeks ago, and ever since the moment his mother made him introduce himself, he’s been obsessed.
Sure, the guy might be forty, but he is unbelievably fuckable. Minho doesn’t think he’s wanted to fuck anyone this bad since… ever.
It isn’t even a dignified obsession. It isn’t the clean, cinematic kind, where Minho stands by the window with a glass of water and sighs very loudly as he quietly yearns.
It is stupid. It is pathetic. It’s Minho dropping a spoon into his cereal because Mr Han steps outside to collect the post in loose grey sweatpants and an old black shirt that looks like it’s survived at least three breakups.
Or: Han Jisung is Minho's older new neighbour. Minho is obsessed with him.
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He circles his clit slowly, the muscles in his thighs tightening as his fingers run circles over the perfect spot. “Are you watching, hyung?”
“No.”
“Not the TV. Me. Are you watching me?” Jisung’s arm flexes as he rubs rougher circles, dipping his fingers inside himself and using it to coat his clit as he circles harder.
“Sungie, I haven’t taken my eyes off of you.”
“Good.” Jisung’s voice is breathless, he pants in time with the rhythm of his fingers. “Don’t.”
or
jisung's a lil slutty
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For Jisung and the color green.
Set in the Appalachian Mountains. -
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“Do you have any idea how old I am, pretty thing?” Minho asks the boy as the door shuts behind them. Jisung, he’d said his name was, on the short walk back to Minho's apartment. A pretty name for a pretty boy Minho thinks.
“And just how old are you, hm?” he questions as he turns, beginning to back him against the door. “I know you’re at least eighteen,” he says “They wouldn’t have let you inside the bar if you weren’t.” he reaches his hand up, cupping Jisung’s chin in his palm.
“Old enough,” the boy answers with a puff of his chest, clearly trying his best to keep his shaky eyes from breaking contact with Minhos.
Minho’s grip tightens against the boy's jaw. “That’s not an answer,” he tsks “Tell me or this stops right now.”
“T-twenty, I’m twenty.” he concedes. “Twenty-one in September.”
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Minho really shouldn’t want, but he just has to have.
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Summary
Minho doesn’t claim to be a perfect person. He doesn’t believe in God and he’s never gone to church or whatever else is supposed to make someone a moral human being. But he’s generally good, he thinks.
So, hearing how his neighbor pleasures himself isn’t his fault. He wasn’t actively listening for it, okay? So he got hard a few times. And? Is he not allowed to touch himself at the same time in his own shower?
or: minho spends months listening to his new neighbor masturbate in the shower until a plumbing issue forces him to do something about it.