[Day Six] LUSH products: exclusive EXO-M edition
Title: LUSH products: exclusive EXO-M edition
Kink: Baths and water
Pairing(s): solo Chen, Chen/Lay, Chen/Minseok
Word Count: 2.4k
Rating: r
Warnings: playing in water, heavy usage of overly expensive bath product, masturbation, kissing, descriptions of cosmetic substances/scents, bath talks, germophobia.
Summary: Jongdae adores himself, LUSH and his bandmates.
Author's Note: get an exclusive EXO-M edition of bath products, and receive a coupon for free EXO-K release.
Sex Bomb
Bath Bomb
“This bomb's made for lovin'”
Jongdae’s soaked face emerges on the surface of baby pink water, as he sharply inhales the heady bath bomb aroma. Mixed scents of flowers and oils hit home and allow his muscles to relax as he struggles to stretch in the confined space of EXO’s tub. This is the quality “me” time he has been looking forward to for two whole weeks of their Japanese tour. He made sure to turn the key the right number of times this time to avoid eager intruders, as memories of “Baekhyun’s aromatic candles in the bathroom” fiasco are still fresh in his mind. Jongdae shudders as he begrudgingly remembers how his lovely “Lava Lamp” bomb was wasted that day. A plague on thee, Baekhyun, he thinks, his elegant mouth twisted in distaste.
Humming a funny tune under his breath, he pokes at floating paper petals, making them dissolve into soapy bubbles faster, bites at a tiny agnail, contemplates to trim his nails, awkwardly watches his own wet reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. Sometimes, Chanyeol does come up with great ideas after all, Jongdae thinks as he admires his own biceps. Crazy, but great.
Oh, what the hell. The man releases a sigh of blissed relief as his fingers finally wrap around his half hard manhood.
Why is it that every time Jongdae is taking a bath aka masturbating, he always fears some sort of sneak attack with a reprimand? For it is not that he himself finds the act of onanism particularly dirty or perverted; but Youngmin would probably not agree after he caught Sehun doing exactly that just few months ago. Nevertheless, it was the manager’s own fault. One does not simply enter boys’ bathroom if a towel is tellingly hanging on the outside handle. One cannot ignore the universal codes.
With Jongdae’s towel strategically put in place outside the door, he closes his eyes and touches his foreskin. His hips eagerly thrust up into his own fist, making the gentle pink of bath water worry and tremble as if the warm liquid feels scandalized at Jongdae’s behavior.
Fuck you, water, Jongdae thinks as his own hand meticulously moves up and down the dick, knowing fingers squeezing and putting careful pressure on sensitive points. His other hand is involuntarily grabbing the bath tub edge, and the hot man starts losing temper; he needs to heighten the speed but water is sloshing about, creating a disturbance, and the stinky smell of bath bomb, advertised as “a fragrant blend of jasmine and ylang ylang(whatever that shit is)”, irritates his nostrils.
With an itch crawling under his skin, Jongdae hurries to stand up and presses his forehead against the cold tiled wall, hiccupping as his right hand starts working in earnest. Minute of immense pressure growing in his groin and cramps starting in his shoulder, then Jongdae has to bite his lip, nose in a scrunch, as he reaches his orgasm.
Wings of his mouth screw up in a perverted smirk as baby pink gets covered in stripes on condensed milk.
Yoga Bomb
Bath Bomb
“Take it slow”
“… and during the break, I even had time to sneakily take a selca with Huanglei teacher, some way to kill time,” Yixing tells him loudly, trying to speak over the sound of water splashing into the bath tub. Yixing’s chapped lips stretch in a smile and his eyebags seem to grow astonishingly big in the orange of hotel lamps, papery skin pale and in need of some hydrating cream.
Jongdae gives out a small laugh, trying not to stare at the breakouts of sleep deficiency on his exhausted friend’s face. He nods and knows that no reply is actually required; he never has much to say about all the numerous adventures Yixing experiences with his Chinese crew, content to just serve as an attentive listener, and Yixing understands and appreciates the gesture.
They get comfortable in the bathroom as Jongdae digs into his man purse for the toiletries, and Yixing starts the water running. It was Jongdae who suggested Yixing use one of his precious “bath babies” after they had entered their shared room, another exhausting concert finished for the day. Yixing looked genuinely surprised before excitedly nodding his agreement.
“I thought you didn’t like to share them,” he said, and Jongdae made a grimace at him.
“And everyone else should continue to believe that. I don’t trust Chanyeol with his creepy self-cult.” It made Yixing snort knowingly, his back visibly relaxing then.
Jongdae gently releases the bath bomb into the half-filled tub and has to squint as he picks at squat bottles of hotel branded shampoos; lights are dimmed, bringing a misplaced air of intimacy into the steamy bathroom. Yixing does not seem to mind, and Jongdae does not suggest they switch to fluorescent bulbs, content to let his own eyes rest after a day of flashing stage lights and LED boards.
He turns to look at Yixing, realizing the boy has stopped talking after what feels like an hour of excited stumbling monologue; as if someone turned some switch, Yixing motionlessly hunches over their tub, spaced out, bewitchingly staring at the orange globe of bath bomb now swirling inside hot water. The sphere cracks and fizzes, releasing big bubbles of blue soap and golden glitter, scents of clementines and Indian spices enveiling the tiled room.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Jongdae whispers to him, feeling excited and lively for the first time after the concert end. “My favourite. It’s supposed to contain sandalwood though, but it just smells of oranges, Xing, what in the..!”
His question echoes in the hotel room, loud voice whiny and expression shell-shocked, as he watches Yixing take a determined step right into the tub, still wearing his jeans and t-shirt. Now soaking wet, the Chinese man gets comfy as he settles down with his knees held to his chest, to watch the bath bomb explode into violet grains, spitting more golden glitter on his black clothes.
“Thanks for taking off your socks outside, that’s nice of you,” Jongdae says in a mock gratitude, staring, I’m clearly not tired or drunk enough for this, he thinks. Yixing, on the other hand, is the rightest amount of exhausted and tipsy on a single beer glass he downed during their group dinner, to do something like this. His expression changes, eyes flying closed, muscles visibly relaxing, as eyebrows finally lose that permanent focused wrinkle in between; hot water strongly smelling of citrus does wonders to one’s body, and no amount of clothes can erase this wonderful effect. The pressure in his lower back is lessening as he finally stretches his feet, and Yixing moans. Jongdae cannot find it in himself to fight the amused smile.
“Your jeans need to go, Yixing,” he says in a pacifying tone, voice scolding yet quiet; the other man frowns at the sudden sound of his voice, as if he has forgotten that Jongdae was even in the room. Jongdae’s face screws up in a mock distraught expression, whine settling naturally on his lips. “This is so rude, here I suggest help, go out of my way to give you my precious bath bomb, am hoping to relax in a hot tub, and all I get is wet clothes and a cold shoulder, hyung, I am hurt…”
“Ah, Jongdae,” Yixing pronounces his name in a tired heavily accented slur, and Jongdae shuts up, with an immediate realization that sarcastic jokes are not what his friend needs or wants right now. Instead, he smiles a soft smile and plants his hand at the side of Yixing’s head, leaning down. The other man’s eyes flutter as he feels someone’s close proximity, when Jongdae palms Yixing’s cheek and presses their mouths together.
His chapped lips freeze against smooth cool skin, and Jongdae slides his hand down to Yixing’s neck; he gently caresses his Adam’s apple with his thumb, putting feather pressure on the man’s sensitive spot. Yixing opens his mouth then, releasing his breath, and lets Jongdae suck on his lower lip. Tongue tickles his bitten skin, and Yixing flinches; his wet hands grab a hold of the other’s dry clothes, leaving his shirt soaking in bubbles, dripping water and golden glitter on Jongdae’s neck as he pulls him closer. Jongdae’s heartbeat picks up as he feels warm drops run down his skin, and he groans, feels Yixing deepen the kiss.
The hardworking man is thorough with everything he does, it shows in the way he thrusts his heavy tongue into Jongdae’s mouth; slow flicks against sensitive gums with lazy tip running over his teeth make Jongdae shudder. He responds with a tentative squeeze to Yixing’s neck, his attention on the feel of other man’s licks, but his hand starts to ache, a cramp echoes in the back of his neck as Jongdae keeps in one hunched position for too long. Distracted by the heady kiss, Yixing does not notice Jongdae tremble and drags his fingers down his forearm, settling his hot palm under the man’s armpit to pull him closer.
This sensual act of passion ends in Jongdae’s hand finally slipping off the tub edge, and the yelping man falls into the water, splashing some yellow soap on the floor and into his own mouth. Yixing manages to catch him with quick hands around his middle, so Jongdae’s nose bumps into Yixing’s neck, casualty avoided. The two men freeze in this uncomfortable position, breaths stuck in their chests.
“Boy, would this be awkward if you were actually naked,” Jongdae whispers after a moment, still shocked, as Yixing starts laughing, hands around Jongdae’s waist tightening.
Dreamtime
Bath Oil
"Time to hit snooze!"
“Ugh, this is like swimming in real oil, just don’t smoke, please, I feel like I’m gonna catch fire,” Minseok complains for the umpteenth time, sounding absolutely indignant about Jongdae’s choice of bath product. He is sitting far away from the culprit of tonight’s washing session, wearing his dark blue Calvin Klein swimming trunks, arms hugging his own body, biceps bulging, hard nipples on point, mouth in a line. His whole pose is expressing the disgust and disapproval of the substance his friend had the audacity to use for their shared tub.
“Minseok, it’s damn purple. What kind of oil turns fucking purple in water?” Jongdae counters, radiant smile faltering for a split second. It is bad to feel annoyed with other people’s stupidity, he thinks to pacify himself and closes his eyes, adjusting position on the ceramic seat inside their huge bath, finally managing to relax in hot water.
“It smells like horse shit,” Minseok practically spits the harsh words at the other, sniffing at the heady grassy scent of chamomile that is wafting around the spacious hotel studio. He is truly regretting most of his life decisions today; sharing one room with Jongdae at this fancy Japanese hotel, choosing sea cucumbers as a side dish for dinner (he had been curious, sea cucumbers were phallic), actually agreeing with Jongdae to have a hot bath together. What was he thinking, he mentally chides himself, staring at floating bath oil with a scrunched up nose.
“And you know a lot about horse shit because..?” Jongdae mumbles just for the sake of keeping conversation, spreading his legs so his buttocks feel more comfortable on the hard seat.
“Because it’s how you usually smell, idiot,” Minseok whispers, rolling his eyes at the uncaring man; to avoid staring at Jongdae’s exposed dick, barely covered by a tiny towel, he starts blowing away oily purple rings around his stomach, his abs jumping each time the circles get too close for his comfort. At a closer inspection though, Minseok suddenly learns that these oily spots really do resemble aquarelle blotches which quickly improves his mood, implication of being grilled alive now gone from his mind. Purple and blue patches of darker shades turn out solid under his prodding finger, clinging to his nail like weightless paint.
“Do you think fucking in this water, with product all over it, would be bad for the… organs?” Jongdae drops the random question like a bomb, having spent the last couple of minutes sneakily watching Minseok play with bath oil.
“What organs? Vagina, you mean?”
They have spent so much time together, Minseok can no longer get surprised at how vulgar Jongdae can sometimes get. He snorts as the man arches a trimmed eyebrow, eyelashes fluttering as he thinks.
“Well, that too, also anus.”
Scratch that, Minseok feels utterly shocked and Jongdae is a master of dirty surprises.
“I’ve never thought about it, but… yes… probably, yes,” he says a moment later, after an awkward silence passes them, with Jongdae innocently looking at Minseok like he has not just made a casual reference to gay sex. “It’s not cooking oil, but it must be some flower essence and not all flowers are good for health. So, because you can’t really know what they really put in these things, better play safe and not… fuck in this water.”
“But it’s used for cosmetic reasons. I’m sitting in it butt naked and it’s supposed to moisturize your skin and stuff.”
“It’s supposed to moisturize your hands and feet, your anus or vagina is obviously covered with a different type of skin… if they even call that skin. Plus, real ew, we’ve been out all day, and we just took off our clothes to soak in the tub, we haven’t washed our bodies properly. No one washes before baths, come on. So this water isn’t only covered in product, but also particles of street dirt… Now I’ve made myself worried, what if we catch something just by sitting here?” Minseok starts fidgeting nervously, throwing an annoyed look at snickering Jongdae. One does not kid around with subjects of cleanness around Kim Minseok.
“Then, since we might be already diseased, let’s have sex,” Jongdae winks in a suggestive way, throwing his dripping towel in Minseok’s face. A little play agitation before bed always put him to sleep faster.
His glee does not last long though, thunderous laughs dying out on a choke, when angry Minseok lunges at him, fingers closing around his throat. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson on hygiene, you prick!”
Kink: Baths and water
Pairing(s): solo Chen, Chen/Lay, Chen/Minseok
Word Count: 2.4k
Rating: r
Warnings: playing in water, heavy usage of overly expensive bath product, masturbation, kissing, descriptions of cosmetic substances/scents, bath talks, germophobia.
Summary: Jongdae adores himself, LUSH and his bandmates.
Author's Note: get an exclusive EXO-M edition of bath products, and receive a coupon for free EXO-K release.
Sex Bomb
Bath Bomb
“This bomb's made for lovin'”
Jongdae’s soaked face emerges on the surface of baby pink water, as he sharply inhales the heady bath bomb aroma. Mixed scents of flowers and oils hit home and allow his muscles to relax as he struggles to stretch in the confined space of EXO’s tub. This is the quality “me” time he has been looking forward to for two whole weeks of their Japanese tour. He made sure to turn the key the right number of times this time to avoid eager intruders, as memories of “Baekhyun’s aromatic candles in the bathroom” fiasco are still fresh in his mind. Jongdae shudders as he begrudgingly remembers how his lovely “Lava Lamp” bomb was wasted that day. A plague on thee, Baekhyun, he thinks, his elegant mouth twisted in distaste.
Humming a funny tune under his breath, he pokes at floating paper petals, making them dissolve into soapy bubbles faster, bites at a tiny agnail, contemplates to trim his nails, awkwardly watches his own wet reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. Sometimes, Chanyeol does come up with great ideas after all, Jongdae thinks as he admires his own biceps. Crazy, but great.
Oh, what the hell. The man releases a sigh of blissed relief as his fingers finally wrap around his half hard manhood.
Why is it that every time Jongdae is taking a bath aka masturbating, he always fears some sort of sneak attack with a reprimand? For it is not that he himself finds the act of onanism particularly dirty or perverted; but Youngmin would probably not agree after he caught Sehun doing exactly that just few months ago. Nevertheless, it was the manager’s own fault. One does not simply enter boys’ bathroom if a towel is tellingly hanging on the outside handle. One cannot ignore the universal codes.
With Jongdae’s towel strategically put in place outside the door, he closes his eyes and touches his foreskin. His hips eagerly thrust up into his own fist, making the gentle pink of bath water worry and tremble as if the warm liquid feels scandalized at Jongdae’s behavior.
Fuck you, water, Jongdae thinks as his own hand meticulously moves up and down the dick, knowing fingers squeezing and putting careful pressure on sensitive points. His other hand is involuntarily grabbing the bath tub edge, and the hot man starts losing temper; he needs to heighten the speed but water is sloshing about, creating a disturbance, and the stinky smell of bath bomb, advertised as “a fragrant blend of jasmine and ylang ylang(whatever that shit is)”, irritates his nostrils.
With an itch crawling under his skin, Jongdae hurries to stand up and presses his forehead against the cold tiled wall, hiccupping as his right hand starts working in earnest. Minute of immense pressure growing in his groin and cramps starting in his shoulder, then Jongdae has to bite his lip, nose in a scrunch, as he reaches his orgasm.
Wings of his mouth screw up in a perverted smirk as baby pink gets covered in stripes on condensed milk.
Yoga Bomb
Bath Bomb
“Take it slow”
“… and during the break, I even had time to sneakily take a selca with Huanglei teacher, some way to kill time,” Yixing tells him loudly, trying to speak over the sound of water splashing into the bath tub. Yixing’s chapped lips stretch in a smile and his eyebags seem to grow astonishingly big in the orange of hotel lamps, papery skin pale and in need of some hydrating cream.
Jongdae gives out a small laugh, trying not to stare at the breakouts of sleep deficiency on his exhausted friend’s face. He nods and knows that no reply is actually required; he never has much to say about all the numerous adventures Yixing experiences with his Chinese crew, content to just serve as an attentive listener, and Yixing understands and appreciates the gesture.
They get comfortable in the bathroom as Jongdae digs into his man purse for the toiletries, and Yixing starts the water running. It was Jongdae who suggested Yixing use one of his precious “bath babies” after they had entered their shared room, another exhausting concert finished for the day. Yixing looked genuinely surprised before excitedly nodding his agreement.
“I thought you didn’t like to share them,” he said, and Jongdae made a grimace at him.
“And everyone else should continue to believe that. I don’t trust Chanyeol with his creepy self-cult.” It made Yixing snort knowingly, his back visibly relaxing then.
Jongdae gently releases the bath bomb into the half-filled tub and has to squint as he picks at squat bottles of hotel branded shampoos; lights are dimmed, bringing a misplaced air of intimacy into the steamy bathroom. Yixing does not seem to mind, and Jongdae does not suggest they switch to fluorescent bulbs, content to let his own eyes rest after a day of flashing stage lights and LED boards.
He turns to look at Yixing, realizing the boy has stopped talking after what feels like an hour of excited stumbling monologue; as if someone turned some switch, Yixing motionlessly hunches over their tub, spaced out, bewitchingly staring at the orange globe of bath bomb now swirling inside hot water. The sphere cracks and fizzes, releasing big bubbles of blue soap and golden glitter, scents of clementines and Indian spices enveiling the tiled room.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Jongdae whispers to him, feeling excited and lively for the first time after the concert end. “My favourite. It’s supposed to contain sandalwood though, but it just smells of oranges, Xing, what in the..!”
His question echoes in the hotel room, loud voice whiny and expression shell-shocked, as he watches Yixing take a determined step right into the tub, still wearing his jeans and t-shirt. Now soaking wet, the Chinese man gets comfy as he settles down with his knees held to his chest, to watch the bath bomb explode into violet grains, spitting more golden glitter on his black clothes.
“Thanks for taking off your socks outside, that’s nice of you,” Jongdae says in a mock gratitude, staring, I’m clearly not tired or drunk enough for this, he thinks. Yixing, on the other hand, is the rightest amount of exhausted and tipsy on a single beer glass he downed during their group dinner, to do something like this. His expression changes, eyes flying closed, muscles visibly relaxing, as eyebrows finally lose that permanent focused wrinkle in between; hot water strongly smelling of citrus does wonders to one’s body, and no amount of clothes can erase this wonderful effect. The pressure in his lower back is lessening as he finally stretches his feet, and Yixing moans. Jongdae cannot find it in himself to fight the amused smile.
“Your jeans need to go, Yixing,” he says in a pacifying tone, voice scolding yet quiet; the other man frowns at the sudden sound of his voice, as if he has forgotten that Jongdae was even in the room. Jongdae’s face screws up in a mock distraught expression, whine settling naturally on his lips. “This is so rude, here I suggest help, go out of my way to give you my precious bath bomb, am hoping to relax in a hot tub, and all I get is wet clothes and a cold shoulder, hyung, I am hurt…”
“Ah, Jongdae,” Yixing pronounces his name in a tired heavily accented slur, and Jongdae shuts up, with an immediate realization that sarcastic jokes are not what his friend needs or wants right now. Instead, he smiles a soft smile and plants his hand at the side of Yixing’s head, leaning down. The other man’s eyes flutter as he feels someone’s close proximity, when Jongdae palms Yixing’s cheek and presses their mouths together.
His chapped lips freeze against smooth cool skin, and Jongdae slides his hand down to Yixing’s neck; he gently caresses his Adam’s apple with his thumb, putting feather pressure on the man’s sensitive spot. Yixing opens his mouth then, releasing his breath, and lets Jongdae suck on his lower lip. Tongue tickles his bitten skin, and Yixing flinches; his wet hands grab a hold of the other’s dry clothes, leaving his shirt soaking in bubbles, dripping water and golden glitter on Jongdae’s neck as he pulls him closer. Jongdae’s heartbeat picks up as he feels warm drops run down his skin, and he groans, feels Yixing deepen the kiss.
The hardworking man is thorough with everything he does, it shows in the way he thrusts his heavy tongue into Jongdae’s mouth; slow flicks against sensitive gums with lazy tip running over his teeth make Jongdae shudder. He responds with a tentative squeeze to Yixing’s neck, his attention on the feel of other man’s licks, but his hand starts to ache, a cramp echoes in the back of his neck as Jongdae keeps in one hunched position for too long. Distracted by the heady kiss, Yixing does not notice Jongdae tremble and drags his fingers down his forearm, settling his hot palm under the man’s armpit to pull him closer.
This sensual act of passion ends in Jongdae’s hand finally slipping off the tub edge, and the yelping man falls into the water, splashing some yellow soap on the floor and into his own mouth. Yixing manages to catch him with quick hands around his middle, so Jongdae’s nose bumps into Yixing’s neck, casualty avoided. The two men freeze in this uncomfortable position, breaths stuck in their chests.
“Boy, would this be awkward if you were actually naked,” Jongdae whispers after a moment, still shocked, as Yixing starts laughing, hands around Jongdae’s waist tightening.
Dreamtime
Bath Oil
"Time to hit snooze!"
“Ugh, this is like swimming in real oil, just don’t smoke, please, I feel like I’m gonna catch fire,” Minseok complains for the umpteenth time, sounding absolutely indignant about Jongdae’s choice of bath product. He is sitting far away from the culprit of tonight’s washing session, wearing his dark blue Calvin Klein swimming trunks, arms hugging his own body, biceps bulging, hard nipples on point, mouth in a line. His whole pose is expressing the disgust and disapproval of the substance his friend had the audacity to use for their shared tub.
“Minseok, it’s damn purple. What kind of oil turns fucking purple in water?” Jongdae counters, radiant smile faltering for a split second. It is bad to feel annoyed with other people’s stupidity, he thinks to pacify himself and closes his eyes, adjusting position on the ceramic seat inside their huge bath, finally managing to relax in hot water.
“It smells like horse shit,” Minseok practically spits the harsh words at the other, sniffing at the heady grassy scent of chamomile that is wafting around the spacious hotel studio. He is truly regretting most of his life decisions today; sharing one room with Jongdae at this fancy Japanese hotel, choosing sea cucumbers as a side dish for dinner (he had been curious, sea cucumbers were phallic), actually agreeing with Jongdae to have a hot bath together. What was he thinking, he mentally chides himself, staring at floating bath oil with a scrunched up nose.
“And you know a lot about horse shit because..?” Jongdae mumbles just for the sake of keeping conversation, spreading his legs so his buttocks feel more comfortable on the hard seat.
“Because it’s how you usually smell, idiot,” Minseok whispers, rolling his eyes at the uncaring man; to avoid staring at Jongdae’s exposed dick, barely covered by a tiny towel, he starts blowing away oily purple rings around his stomach, his abs jumping each time the circles get too close for his comfort. At a closer inspection though, Minseok suddenly learns that these oily spots really do resemble aquarelle blotches which quickly improves his mood, implication of being grilled alive now gone from his mind. Purple and blue patches of darker shades turn out solid under his prodding finger, clinging to his nail like weightless paint.
“Do you think fucking in this water, with product all over it, would be bad for the… organs?” Jongdae drops the random question like a bomb, having spent the last couple of minutes sneakily watching Minseok play with bath oil.
“What organs? Vagina, you mean?”
They have spent so much time together, Minseok can no longer get surprised at how vulgar Jongdae can sometimes get. He snorts as the man arches a trimmed eyebrow, eyelashes fluttering as he thinks.
“Well, that too, also anus.”
Scratch that, Minseok feels utterly shocked and Jongdae is a master of dirty surprises.
“I’ve never thought about it, but… yes… probably, yes,” he says a moment later, after an awkward silence passes them, with Jongdae innocently looking at Minseok like he has not just made a casual reference to gay sex. “It’s not cooking oil, but it must be some flower essence and not all flowers are good for health. So, because you can’t really know what they really put in these things, better play safe and not… fuck in this water.”
“But it’s used for cosmetic reasons. I’m sitting in it butt naked and it’s supposed to moisturize your skin and stuff.”
“It’s supposed to moisturize your hands and feet, your anus or vagina is obviously covered with a different type of skin… if they even call that skin. Plus, real ew, we’ve been out all day, and we just took off our clothes to soak in the tub, we haven’t washed our bodies properly. No one washes before baths, come on. So this water isn’t only covered in product, but also particles of street dirt… Now I’ve made myself worried, what if we catch something just by sitting here?” Minseok starts fidgeting nervously, throwing an annoyed look at snickering Jongdae. One does not kid around with subjects of cleanness around Kim Minseok.
“Then, since we might be already diseased, let’s have sex,” Jongdae winks in a suggestive way, throwing his dripping towel in Minseok’s face. A little play agitation before bed always put him to sleep faster.
His glee does not last long though, thunderous laughs dying out on a choke, when angry Minseok lunges at him, fingers closing around his throat. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson on hygiene, you prick!”