To Feel Loved
It didn’t matter why Minho was upset. It just mattered that he was. I knew there was something wrong the minute we got back to the dorms and he went straight to his room without eating dinner first. Minho never skipped meals, not unless he was really upset like he is right now.
“Yah, Minho!” Key shouts, hands on his hips and his eyes squinting. He looks at me expectantly and I nod and follow after Minho.
I knock on the door softly a few times. “Minho-ah?” I say quietly, pressing my ear against the wood. “Minho-ah, aren’t you hungry?”
“No,” I hear him say.
I bite my lip and reach for the doorknob, pausing momentarily. “Can I come in?” I ask.
He doesn’t confirm but he doesn’t object either, so I slowly twist the knob and poke my head inside. The lights are off and it’s completely silent apart from Minho’s choppy breathing. I slip inside and shut the door behind me, then lean back against it.
“Minho I -“
“Do you ever feel lonely, hyung?” he asks, his voice shaking a little bit.
His question catches me off guard. I think all idols feel lonely at some point during their career, but that’s what we have our band and label mates for. “Yeah, sometimes. I’m always missing my family and -“
“No. I mean, do you ever feel lonely?”
Oh. I bite my lip again and he keeps talking.
“Sometimes I look at Jonghyun and Key and wish that I had someone…”
I frown. “Minho-ah, you have all of us,” I tell him. I leave my spot from against the door and start blindly walking to where I hope he’s sitting - on his bed against the east-side wall.
“Hyung, that’s not what I mean,” he replies. I follow his voice and reach my hands out for him, colliding with his rigid shoulders.
“What do you mean, then?” I ask, taking a seat next to him.
He sighs and leans forward to rests his forehead on my shoulder. “I just mean… I’m lonely, hyung,” he whispers. “I’m lonely, and it hurts.”
I put one of my hands on the back of his neck and rub softly. “You don’t have to feel lonely, Minho-ah. We all love you. I love you,” I say softly.
“Show me, hyung.”
My heart stops. “W-what?”
“Show me that you love me,” he says, lifting his head.
I swallow thickly and now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark, I can see the outline of his sad face. “I’m not sure -“
“I just need you to show me,” he breaths quietly. “Show me that you love me, hyung, please?”
I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t do this. I could ruin everything for the group. This is so wrong of me, as a leader, to do… but I don’t care.
“C’mere,” I whisper, pulling him to me by the back of his neck and kissing him soundly.
He breaths in deeply through his nose and fists the front of my shirt, kissing me back instantly. His lips are exactly what I always thought they would be. They’re big and soft, though slightly chapped, and he tastes like he’s been waiting for this his entire life. I hope I taste like I’ve been wanting to give this to him for my entire life.
I pull away for a second to say, “Minho-ah, I love you,” and then I kiss him again and ease him onto his back.
We both move to the center of the bed and his legs spread slightly so that I can lay between them. I move my hand to his face and tilt my head to the side, letting my tongue slide against his sweetly.
Maybe I’ve been wanting this for too long. Maybe I waited too long to finally act on my feelings. Whatever the reason, I’m already turned on and all I want is to show Minho how much I love him, just like he asked. And I know how important it is that I’m careful about this. If I move things along too quickly, or say the wrong thing, he’ll think that I’m in this just for release, and that’s not the case at all. I’m in this because I love Minho, and because Minho needs to feel loved. He needs to be worshipped and always taken care of, and I hope that it’s me he lets do those things for him.
Our lips disconnect and I move to his neck, sucking and kissing a trail from beneath his jaw up to his ear.
“I love you,” I say.
He groans and starts to sit up. I move so he can rise and I watch him reach over his back and pull his t-shirt off. I take mine off, too, and toss it behind me before I move to kiss him again. Instantly, things heat up. It’s like Minho’s body temperature has spiked to a dangerous level and he’s lost all control. I find myself on my back with Minho grabbing my hand and rubbing it against the rock-solid bulge in his jeans. I twist my wrist and palm him right where he wants it and I feel his arms shake above me. His hips start rocking forcefully into my hand and he starts begging me to take his jeans off.
I pop the button on his pants and work them down to his thighs and then return to his momentarily-neglected erection.
“Hyung I -“
“Shh,” I coo, rolling us over again. “Don’t talk, Minho-ah.”
I kiss his neck again and slide my hand into his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his length and giving him a gentle tug. “I love you,” I say into his neck, nipping at his skin softly.
Impatience gets the best of him as his hips start thrusting into the tight circle of my hand. I can’t help but smile because he’s such a teenager. So moody and impatient and hormonal, but I can’t picture him differently. Minho is perfect just how he is.
I let go of his member and sit up, pulling his jeans down the rest of the way and then climbing off of the bed to remove mine. I hear Minho rustle on the bed and then his boxers hit me in the thigh and join mine on the floor. I then crawl back onto the bed and kiss him again, resting between his legs and circling my hips just right so that our cocks can slide together.
My fingers work their way between our mouths and we find a way to kiss around them, our tongues curling around them to reach each other’s and our spit coating them efficiently. And once I think they’re wet enough, I pull them away and as if it were instinct Minho lifts one leg and moves it to the side, opening himself up to me and I lose my breath.
Even though I’m not exactly confident in my skills, I overcompensate with bold moves and lots of tongue. I press one finger against his entrance and feel it tighten involuntarily. Then, when he relaxes, I swiftly slide my finger in and gently move it inside of him while biting on Minho’s bottom lip.
“Hyung,” he breaths, spreading his leg even further. “Hyung, use another.”
I listen to him and slide the second one in, relishing in the warmth and tightness of his passage. I curl my fingers experimentally and a deep but breathy “nngh,” comes from Minho and his back arches slightly. “Hyung,” he says. “This feels so good.”
I’ve never once questioned Minho’s sexuality, but I’ve never once expected him to bottom to anyone, either. It’s beautiful, though. I reach over and turn the bedside lamp on because god, I need to see him. There’s a thin sheen of sweat making his entire body glisten and his hair mat to his forehead and his eyes are shut and his lips are parted and I wish I could see him like this every day; so vulnerable and exhibited. He needs this so badly. I want to give this to him so badly.
“Minho-ah, do you want me?” I whisper quietly, waiting for him to open his eyes.
When he does, I lose my breath once again. His eyes are so dark, so needy, so striking. Everything about him is just so perfect. I’ve always wanted to tell him that, to show him how perfect he is to me. I need to show him.
“Give me all of you, hyung,” he replies, reaching down to grab my wrist and gently ease my fingers out of him. “If you love me, then give me all of you.” He opens the top drawer of his bedside table and takes out a bottle of lube, then puts it in the palm of my hand. “Use just a little bit,” he says, and he turns the lamp off again.
I take a deep breath and unscrew the cap from the lube. How much is just a little bit, anyways? Is just a little bit enough to cover everything? Or is it enough to cover everything and have just a little extra to make it comfortable? I’m about to squeeze some out when I feel Minho’s hand on my wrist again.
“Here, hyung,” he says, taking the bottle and turning my palm up. He empties some of the lube into my hand and then I hear him set the bottle down on the nightstand. “Use that much.”
It doesn’t feel like it’s enough. It doesn’t feel like it’s nearly enough.
“It’s fine. That’s how much I want you to use,” he says. I don’t know how, but Minho always knows how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking. I think that’s what made me fall in love with him - his sometimes child-like innocence and his attentiveness. He’s always been there when I was having a hard time. It’s my turn.
I spread the lube on myself and then try to return my fingers to his entrance, but he smacks my hand away. “I don’t want any more prep,” he says. “If you prep me more, it won’t feel real.”
My heart clenches in my chest. “Are we doing this for the same reason, Minho-ah?” I ask, holding myself above him with my palms flat on the mattress. “Are you doing this just to feel loved? Or, do you love me to?”
Minho clutches my shoulders in his strong hands and says, “I love you, too, hyung. I really love you.”
I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. I slowly lean down and kiss him and then start to push inside of him. I’m not sure if it’s better to go slowly, or better to get it over with, but all I can think about is how tight and how hot it is inside of him. All I can think is that if this is what it’s like to love and be loved, then I don’t know how I ever lived without it. All I know is that I love Minho, and I’m sure I’ll always love Minho, and I can only hope that he continues to love me, too.
When I’m fully seated, Minho rocks his hips eagerly and it makes me wonder if he’s done this before. I have, with a girl, but Minho seems to have accepted this so easily and he acts like he’s done it a thousand times.
“Ugh, Jinki-hyung,” he moans, one hand leaving my shoulder to slide up my neck and into my hair.
I pull out slowly to the tip and then push back inside, leaning down to rest my face in the crook of his neck. “Minho-ah, I love you,” I say again as I pull out and push in again and try to find a good rhythm for the two of us.
It doesn’t take long - maybe a few minutes - before he and I are moving together and it all feels so natural, like we’ve been doing this with each other for years. This is what making love is supposed to feel like, right? It’s supposed to be this blissful and beautiful, and your partner is supposed to have the most euphoric look on their face like Minho does right now.
“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, Minho-ah,” I whisper, holding his face with one hand and kissing the opposite side of his neck. “God, you’re perfect.”
I push myself up again and support myself with one hand, letting the other travel between our bodies and grip his erection. I stoke him at a slow, comfortable pace, letting the feeling of him in my hand burn into my brain. I pay close attention to what he likes, like the way I tighten my hand around the head, or the way I press and slide my thumb from base-to-tip on the front of his dick. I find it so endearing that he can’t figure out what to do; thrust into my hand or push back onto me. I’m sure that means he’s getting close, and I want him to get there, so I speed up the movement of my hand.
Seeing him cum is something that I could watch over and over again. His body visibly tenses and his mouth falls open, and I’ve never heard him say my name so beautifully in my entire life. His cum seeps over and out between my fingers and falls onto his belly and he reaches down and quickly takes my hand because he’s too sensitive to continue being handled.
We continue to hold hands and within the same minute I release myself inside of him, saying “I love you” into his ear one more time. I never want him to forget it. And as I lay there on top of him, one of his arms comfortable around my waist and my face in his neck and our fingers linked together, I vow to make Minho always feel loved and never lonely again for as long as I can.