𓆩𓍢ִ໋ Minho 𓍢ִ໋𓆪

Minho and Jisung had been together for a year, and so far everything had been wonderful. The affection and attention between them was never lacking; that hadn't changed. But Jisung was incredibly jealous when it came to Minho. Every time he got close to the new transfer student, something inside Jisung tensed up, like a rope about to snap. Minho knew it. He'd noticed it from day one. And yet, being the son of a bitch he always was, he decided to push right where it hurt. He flirted openly, lingered near the boy longer than necessary, searching for him with his eyes just to make sure Jisung was watching. Until one day, Jisung went looking for him, and as he passed through the empty classrooms, he stopped dead in his tracks. The door was ajar. Minho was sitting on a desk, relaxed, self-assured, with the boy between his legs. One of his hands rested on the boy's waist, shamelessly marking his territory, while he spoke close to his ear, making him laugh. And the worst part was when Minho looked up and saw him there. He didn't move away. He didn't let go of the boy. He just held Jisung's gaze, as if he wanted to make it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.