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The first time Minho made him come, Jisung sobbed through it, overwhelmed and mortified by how hard his body shook and how much noise he made. Minho held him through it, kissed his wet cheeks, and told him he was perfect, but there had been something dark and satisfied in his eyes that Jisung has never forgotten. Minho likes seeing him like that—stripped of any control, flushed and trembling and so, so embarrassed about it.
And now Minho is doing it again, right here at his desk, with Jisung's textbooks still open in front of him.
