Chapter Text
On the day of the dinner, Jisung is a nervous wreck. His stomach is in knots as he tries outfit after outfit, trying to find a way to look mature, but not like he’s trying too hard. He doesn’t want Minho’s dad to think he’s trying to impress him, but if Jisung did impress him, that would still be good right?
When Minho gets home, Jisung is topless in high waisted dress pants, staring at a few different button downs like he’s choosing which wire to cut on a time bomb. He comes over, puts his hands on Jisung’s waist from behind, kisses the back of his neck. “This one,” he says, stepping around and picking up a black silk dress shirt he’d bought Jisung a few months ago. “It fits you perfectly.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mhm.” Minho holds the shirt up for Jisung to put his arms through then steps around to start doing up the buttons. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It literally couldn’t matter less to me what he thinks of you.”
Jisung pouts. “But what if he hates me?”
“Well then I already hate him, so who cares?” He finishes the buttons and adjusts the collar, smoothing out the sleeves over Jisung’s biceps. “I think you look perfect.”
“Stop.” Jisung blushes and bats him away playfully, only for Minho to grab his wrist and step in for a kiss.
“You look lovely,” Minho assures, bringing Jisung’s hand to his lips and kissing the engagement ring. Minho doesn’t look half bad himself. He’s just in his work clothes, but his blazer is snug and he’s wearing the gold wire frame glasses Jisung loves him in. “I’m just gonna feed the cats and I’ll drive us over to the restaurant. You feel okay?”
“Just nervous.” Jisung winces. “I’m good though.”
“We can leave anytime you want.” Minho gives him one more squeeze before departing to attend to their meowing children downstairs. Jisung turns to the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves and making sure his hair is falling just right before toeing on his shoes.
He can do this. Minho doesn’t think much of his father’s opinion, so Jisung shouldn’t either, but his heart is like a hummingbird when he walks downstairs.
They drive to the restaurant in comfortable quiet, Minho’s hand resting possessively on his upper thigh while the other grips the wheel.
Jisung hasn’t been to this restaurant before and it looks fancy when they pull up, Minho handing the keys off to a valet before taking Jisung’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Ready?” Minho asks. He looks like a dream in the low light of evening, his eyes comforting and full of reassurance. Jisung’s heart feels soft in his chest. Minho is proud to be with him. He’s not hiding him away or embarrassed to be engaged to a broke grad student. They look like a couple.
“I’m ready.” Jisung smiles, co*cking his head towards the door of the restaurant. “Lead the way.”
Minho takes him inside, the restaurant low lit and warm, light jazz filling the space over the hum of conversation. The hostess is ready for them, gesturing for the two to follow her to a table where Minho’s father is already seated and waiting.
Jisung’s heart leaps to his throat when they approach. At a white clothed table is an older man, his hair the same dark black of Minho’s without the chestnut dye that gives it depth and an autumnal warm hue. He seems taller, thin, narrow eyes behind glasses, face cut with a few deep wrinkles beside his mouth. Jisung can see features of Minho in him, a strange glance into the future.
“Hello,” Minho greets, expression stoic as he pulls a chair out and gestures for Jisung to sit. “Dad, this is Jisung. Jisung, this is… Dad.”
His father looks up from the menu, seeming bored already. “Jisung, huh? Nice to meet you.” He extends a hand and Jisung forces a polite smile as he reaches forward to shake it. His hand is cold and boney — he can’t help but think in the back of his mind that this is the hand that struck Minho all those years ago.
“Nice to meet you too.” Jisung nods as Minho sits beside him, his hand immediately coming to rest on his knee, grounding him.
“My son has done a good job of keeping you from me,” his father muses. “Excuse my late congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thanks,” Minho says, his smile curt. The expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “Forgive me for assuming you’d want no part of our union.”
His father sighs. “Lets get some wine ordered before we start with the theatrics, yes?” He snaps for a passing waitress and Jisung blanches at the rudeness, but keeps his expression schooled. He feels a fleeting panic when the waitress looks to him for his drink order — both Minho and his dad having ordered with words Jisung’s never heard of, but Minho is quick to the rescue, ordering for him and sending the waitress on her way.
“So… Jisung.” He clears his throat. “What do you do? Are you an academic like my son?”
“Ah.” Jisung feels his face burn red. “I’m ah… still in graduate school.”
“Studying…?”
“Music.” He swallows. “I’m in a masters program for music production. I’m a musician.”
“Oh, do you compose? Classical? What instrument?”
Jisung bites his lip, speaking quietly, ashamed. f*ck he loves what he does, but sitting here, it feels so embarrassing. “Mostly um… pop and rap actually.”
“Jisung plays three instruments,” Minho adds when his father raises his eyebrows, rubbing his thumb in little circles over Jisung’s knee under the table. “He’s very talented. His poetry is wonderful.”
“Well you always did have a penchant for the arts.” His father says, the condescension palpable. “I assume you two met on campus?”
“Jisung was a barista at the cafe near the classics building.”
Jisung tries not to disintegrate. He’s glad Minho isn’t ashamed of him, but he can feel the disapproval from his dad radiating off of him.
They’re momentarily saved by the arrival of another waitress for their dinner orders. Jisung panics and orders the first thing he can pronounce and the server leaves them in an awkward lull when she departs.
“You seem a little young,” says Mr. Lee and Minho scoffs.
“Says you.” He prods. “How old’s your child bride?”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Minho. I was just remarking.”
Jesus. Jisung puts his hand on top of Minho’s beneath the table and squeezes. “I’m twenty-five,” he says, hoping his face doesn’t look as red as it feels.
“Hm. I married Minho’s mother at that age. I suppose I’m just relieved you’re settling down with a person in addition to your, what… four cats?”
“Three.” Minho scowls.
“And how long have you two…?”
“We’ve been living together for over a year.”
“I assume on Minho’s income.”
“Dad!” Minho glares. “Don’t.”
“I just want to make sure my son isn’t marrying someone motivated by finances.”
Jisung’s stomach turns. No matter how much Minho assures him that he wants to take care of everything financially, he always feels guilty for how little he contributes. He essentially lives on an allowance from Minho rather than his previous part time jobs and of course, he doesn’t pay rent of any kind to live in his house. God, he must look so pathetic. Minho is a tenured professor and Jisung is a grad student and part time rapper. His eyes sting.
Minho opens his mouth, looking poised for the kill when their server returns, placing three glasses of wine on the table. Jisung grabs his and drinks graciously, hoping to quell the tightness in his chest.
“So when’s the big day?” His father asks and Minho answers.
“In a month.”
“I suppose I’m not welcome, given I only found out from your mother the other day.” He sighs.
“No, you’re not. You know, given your moral opposition to our whole relationship and all that.” Minho takes a long drink from his wine glass. “We’d like to spend the day with the people who support us.”
“And your mother supports your…” He rakes his eyes over Jisung. “Union?”
“Yes, she’s very fond of Jisung actually.”
“She isn’t concerned about the impact on your reputation?
“My reputation.” Minho chuckles. “Dad, I’ve been living out of the closet for years now. People know.”
“Yes, but it’s a very different thing for your… private preferences to be common knowledge of people who know you in your day to day life, but marriage is quite the announcement. It will be a matter of public record. People who so much as search your name to read any of your publications could know and discriminate.” He takes another long sigh, shaking his head. “Though I guess with your career, that’s not much of a concern.”
Jisung feels a surge of rage that, for the moment at least, completely trumps his anxiety. “Yeah, it’s not a big concern for him in his career,” he says. “Most people in his field are pretty well versed in the social sciences and critical perspectives and since they don’t live in the stone age, they tend to be fine with queer people if they’re not queer themselves. I mean, he studies ancient Greece for Christ’s sake. Not a lot of hom*ophobes scrambling to read his work on brothels in the city states.”
Minho looks over at him, fond, smiling bright with surprise. “You read my last article?”
“Of course I did, what kind of fiancee do you think I am?” Jisung gives him a nudge, his nerves damped by Minho’s happiness.
“I’ll never understand why you chose this path,” his father grumbles, looking down at his wine glass as if to study it.
“Oh, which part?” Minho grins. “The having sex with men path? Or the studying ancient dudes who also have sex with men path?”
“Lower your voice for God’s sake.”
“Aw.” Jisung pouts at Minho, batting his eyes for dramatic effect. Man, f*ck this guy. Seriously. If Minho wants to go for the kill then Jisung will lead the way. “Baby, he doesn’t want people to overhear that you’re f*cking me. Try to be quieter about all the amazing gay sex we’re having, okay?”
Minho snorts, squeezing Jisung’s knee under the table as he laughs with his whole chest, eyes scrunched adorably behind his glasses. “You’re right honey, I’m sorry. We’re making the sad straight people jealous.”
“You see?” His father seethes, fists balled on the table as he glares Minho down. “You’ve given me all this self righteous bullsh*t about how your disgusting predilection has existed throughout the ages, that you were born this way, that there’s nothing indecent about this lifestyle. Then you sit here and you make a mockery of everything around you. You bastardize the idea of marriage by taking part in it. How dare you take a sacred sacrament and apply it to this perverse little relationship you’ve gotten yourself into just to spite me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Minho reaches over to Jisung and tucks his hair back behind his ear, rubbing the affection right in his father’s face. “As much as you think the world revolves around you, I am in this perverse little relationship because I love Jisung very much. Have you ever felt that before?” He raises his eyebrows, looking back at his dad as he puts his arm possessively around Jisung’s shoulders. “Love? Or are all your wives just maids and incubators to you?”
“I won’t sit here and-”
“Oh that’s okay, we’re leaving,” Jisung says, looking to meet Minho’s eyes to confirm they’re on the same page and finding him smiling right back at him. To put the cherry on top, he leans in and kisses him, walking right up to the line of what could be considered decent in public as he hums happily against Minho’s mouth and pulls away with a nibble of his lower lip. “You wanna go home and have super gay perverted sex, baby? You can tell me all about how the Greeks would use olive oil as lube — we haven’t tried that personally yet, have we?”
“Minho-!”
“Yeah, we’ll be going,” Minho concurs, standing up and offering Jisung his hand, which he gladly takes. “See you around, Dad,” he says with a brief mock salute. “If you try to come to the wedding, we have a great friend of ours working the door who can show you right back to your car.”
“You can still send a gift though.” Jisung winks and manages to keep in his laughter as Minho kisses his temple and they leave the table together.
They manage not to crack up until they make it outside the restaurant, Jisung bursting into giggles as soon as they approach the valet tent.
“Hyungie, I’m so sorry I ever thought this was a good idea!” Jisung gasps between cackles, his sides aching as he leans into his fiancee. “He sucks! He sucks so bad, oh my God. How did you turn out so cool?”
“I had to rebel against him by not becoming an insufferable asshole,” Minho snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you had any of that in you. God, Jisung, that was so f*cking funny.”
“Yeah? You’re not pissed or anything that I totally blew up dinner?”
“Please.” Minho gives an eye roll for the ages. “He blew it up by being an asshole. You were perfect.” He hands his ticket to the valet and brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing where their knuckles overlap. “We can pick up some food on the way home.”
“…Wanna drive through Burger King?”
“God, you get me.”
When the valet brings the car, they practically laugh the whole way to the fast food joint, Jisung peppering Minho’s face in little kisses at every red light, nibbling on his ear to tease him. He’s relieved Minho isn’t angry with him. Everything he said about his dad was spot on. Jisung should have just taken his word for it, but Minho doesn’t give him any sh*t for the dinner being a disaster. He just orders Jisung’s favorite and does a hilarious impression of his dad on the way home.
They change out of their nice clothes and accidentally into matching pajamas, both of them having a set of the same black silks, which only cracks them up all over again. They snuggle on the couch with the cats around them and a dumb reality show in the background while they eat. Jisung feeds Minho fries, pretending it’s something fancy and Minho moans like each bite is a fine delicacy. It’s silly and dumb and adorable and Jisung loves him so f*cking much.
“I can’t believe I actually hated your dad so much, it overrode my anxiety,” Jisung says, gathering the trash into one of the paper bags and setting it out of the way on the coffee table. “What a piece of sh*t. He should be so proud of you and he just isn’t? What, because you don’t study black holes or something?”
“Everything is about him.” Minho shrugs. “I personally defied him by being gay, by loving the arts over the sciences, by building a career in the humanities.” He slings an arm around Jisung’s shoulders and kisses his forehead. “And now by marrying you.”
“Well your dad has terrible taste. I’m a real catch you know.” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows. “Grad student with no income, aspiring professional rapper.”
Minho chuckles, pulling Jisung’s legs into his lap and taking one foot in his hands. “Lie back.”
Jisung doesn’t need to be told twice, lounging back on a throw pillow and humming happily as Minho digs his thumb into the arch.
“You are a hundred percent a catch,” Minho says, smiling down at him as he rubs. “You told off and embarrassed my dad in a restaurant full of people. You’re pretty much my personal hero.”
Jisung giggles. “That doesn’t really make me marriage material. What about my career? I don’t really… have job security.”
“You don’t need it.” Minho shrugs. “I love the music you make, Sungie. You’re really, really talented. Ever since I stopped dancing so much, I really missed music.”
“You still dance.”
“Yeah, but nowhere near as much as I thought I might,” Minho sighs. “And that’s okay. I love my career and I couldn’t live like this just dancing, but you know…” He looks shy for a moment, focusing on rubbing Jisung’s feet. “You brought music back into my life.”
“Hyung.” Jisung’s heart swells. “You really feel that way?”
“Of course I do.” Minho smiles at him, soft and genuine. “I love your music. I love your passion about it and I can’t wait for the day when someone realizes how talented you are. Let me worry about money and you just keep making music.” He reaches out and tucks Jisung’s hair back behind his ear. “I love seeing you do what makes you happy.”
“Why are you so perfect?”
“Not sure. It doesn’t run in the family.”
Jisung snorts and sits up, taking his feet out of Minho’s lap and scootching up close to give him a kiss. He cups Minho’s sweet face in his hands, nuzzles their noses together. “I love you so f*cking much.”
“Mm, I hope so. With the whole taking my last name and everything, you know?” Minho pecks his lips again, smiling. “I love you too, Sung-ah.”
“You wanna go upstairs?” Jisung runs a hand through Minho’s hair, stroking his scalp. “I did promise your dad we would have fun kinky sex.”
“Well I’d hate to disappoint the man.” Minho wraps his arms around Jisung’s waist, turning his head to kiss up Jisung’s neck, hands sliding up his sides. “You know, if I don’t make you come at least twice, I think he wins.”
“You’re right.” Jisung nods, putting on his best deadly serious expression. “You’ll just have to f*ck my brains out.”
“There’s no other way.” Minho chuckles and pulls Jisung further into his lap, running his thumb over his lower lip. “Go put that new lingerie on.”
******
Jisung is blubbering from the moment he wakes up on the rehearsal day. His crying had started the night before and hasn’t let up since. It’s on and off, purely happy tears, but he really can’t seem to get a handle on it.
He meets Minho’s mom and wells up when he sees how much she looks like him. Sure, he’s seen pictures, but the resemblance in person is uncanny. She greets him with such warm energy and open arms, thanking him for getting her pesky son to finally settle down and Jisung giggles while Minho rolls his eyes. She doesn’t make any remarks about his age. She just tells him how handsome he looks and how beautiful the ceremony is going to be. How could Jisung not sniffle a little?
Then, he gets to introduce Minho to his mom and nearly bursts into tears. Minho introduces himself so sweetly, hugging Jisung’s mom and thanking her for raising such an amazing person. That alone is enough to make Jisung cry, but when his mom thanks Minho for taking care of him, tells him that she would treat him like a son too from now on, he has to crush the both of them in a snotty teary-eyed hug.
The presence of his friends helps. Felix is his best man and he’s there with his boyfriend Chan, who is also one of Jisung’s closest friends. Changbin comes to the rehearsal too and Jisung nearly cracks up when he sees him zeroing in on Hyunjin, a gorgeous adjunct from Minho’s department at the university. His old roommates, Seungmin and Jeongin, are there too and everyone takes turns congratulating him, telling him how much they can’t wait for the ceremony, how cute him and Minho are. They keep the mood light and make Jisung laugh, but every time he turns back to his fiancé, he gets choked up again.
Tomorrow, Minho is going to be his husband. This is real.
Everyone is gathered at the hotel across the street from the botanical garden hosting the ceremony. Jisung is actually glad that all of their family and friends were able to get together for the rehearsal dinner, so they have time to put in a little face with everyone who matters to them before the hectic wedding day ahead of them. Jisung gets a little tipsy on champagne and Minho uses it as an excuse to keep a permanent arm around his waist, sneaking kisses whenever they find themselves between conversations. They snicker to each other when they see Hyunjin not so subtly slide his room key into Changbin’s pocket and feed each other bite’s from their dinner plates. This is the time where they’re allowed to be as pathetically disgustingly in love as they want and no one will bat an eye. Jisung’s friends won’t gag and groan. Minho won’t be so worried about propriety. They’re stuck to each other like glue.
As the rehearsal winds down, they make their rounds to say goodnight and that they’ll see everyone at the wedding tomorrow. Jisung blubbers again a little when he says goodnight to Minho’s mom and to his own, but soon enough, the evening is coming to a close and Minho is whisking him off to the elevator.
A few people had urged them to participate in the age old tradition of separate bedrooms the night before the wedding, but neither of them would hear of it. Jisung would claw at the walls all night if he knew Minho was on the other side.
“Oh, baby,” Minho chuckles as soon as the elevator doors shut, bringing his hands up to gently brush away the wetness at the corners of Jisung’s eyes. “How are you gonna get through your vows?”
“I’ll get through them.” Jisung pouts. “I’m just getting my crying out now.”
“You’re so f*cking precious.” Minho sighs and kisses Jisung’s forehead, his hand gravitating down to his lower back to lead him out into the hallway when the doors open up.
They have a honeymoon suite for tonight and tomorrow, but the day after the ceremony, they’ll be catching a flight to Greece. The only promise they made to each other for the night before the wedding was no sex. f*cking after the wedding will be even more magical if they make themselves wait just a little bit (and Jisung does not want to be sore during his walk down the aisle) but he’s already feeling cranky about it. He wants to see Minho’s cute org*sm face and play with his dick before he falls asleep.
Minho swipes them into the room and urges Jisung inside first, pushing his glasses to the top of his head and rubbing his eyes as he kicks the door shut behind them.
“Are you sure we can’t have any sex at all tonight?” Jisung whines as he stumbles toward the bed. The room is corny. The duvet is a deep burgundy and the sheets match. He can see a luxuriously enormous bathtub through the ajar door of the bathroom. Everything smells a little like roses. He f*cking loves it.
He squirms out of all his clothes as soon as he’s on the bed, wrestling off his shirt and kicking off his pants and underwear. “f*ck, this bed is really soft,” he groans as he starfishes over the comforter, naked and content as the cool fabric soothes his warm skin.
“You’re drunk.” Minho laughs, kicking his shoes off and walking up to give Jisung’s ass a squeeze. “We can’t f*ck, Sungie. How sad would it be if we couldn’t stick to the one single thing we said we wouldn’t do before the wedding, hm?” He smacks Jisung’s ass and grins when he gasps. “No seducing me. You don’t want to be sore tomorrow and we should both get some sleep before the big day.”
“You’re the one spanking me.”
“You’re naked!” Minho feigns offense. “I’m just a man, Jisung.”
“Hey, hey, no full name right before the wedding. That’s Sungie or baby to you.”
“You’re right, my apologies, Sungie,” Minho corrects with a smile. He smooths his hand down the length of Jisung’s spine, glides his palm over the curve of his ass. “Come brush your teeth and take your meds. We can still sleep naked and cuddle all you want.”
“I’m gonna get hard,” Jisung mumbles, shifting his hips a little. “Already kinda am.”
“You’ll get all the org*sms your heart desires tomorrow.” Minho helps prod Jisung up out of bed, so they can wash up together, sharing the bathroom as they brush their teeth and do the bare minimum of skincare.
Everything is already set for tomorrow. The tuxes are in their dressing rooms at the venue and a stylist will do some minimal hair and makeup for them before the ceremony. The photographer will arrive when they’re ready getting dressed and Felix will have the cats in their little wedding costumes in front row cat beds on chairs to see their dads tie the knot. All they have to do is show up.
Even though Jisung would love some tender love making after an emotional evening, he does feel tuckered out. He acquiesces when Minho leads him back to bed, but he does fuss until his fiancé strips down to join him.
“Yay,” Jisung laughs when Minho slides naked into bed with him, nothing creating a barrier between them as he tucks himself under Minho’s arm and clings to him like a koala. “I like when you sleep naked. You’re all soft and warm.”
“You’re such a perv,” Minho yawns, teasing even as he runs an affectionate hand through Jisung’s hair. “You just wanna feel me up.”
“You’re the one who likes sleeping with a hand on my ass.”
“I do.” Minho pinches it to punctuate his point and Jisung hikes his leg higher up over Minho’s thighs. “Do you feel good about tomorrow? Worried about anything?”
“I’m so excited,” Jisung says honestly, nuzzling his cheek against Minho’s bare chest. “I’ve dreamed about this since I was little and getting to do it with you is just… I’m so f*cking happy, Minho-ah.”
“I’m happy too.” Minho kisses the top of Jisung’s head. “I mean, I was starting to think I’d probably never do this at all when I met you.” He smooths the hair out of Jisung’s eyes, presses another kiss to his forehead. “You changed everything.”
“You changed everything for me too, hyung.” As hard as it is to move from his perfect cozy position, Jisung can’t help lifting his head and leaning in to give Minho a kiss. He slots their lips together, hums against him as Minho kisses him back so gently, it makes his heart flutter. He could stay up all night just doing this, feeling Minho’s skin, tasting his lips, holding him close. “Will you still love me if I cry my way through my vows tomorrow?” Jisung whispers and Minho pecks his lips again in response.
“I will love you no matter how many tissues it takes to get you through, baby.”
“It’s gonna be a lot.”
“I know, sweet boy, I know.” Minho soothes Jisung back down into his previous position, rubbing his back to help him settle into sleep. “You can cry all you want. The pictures will be really funny.”
“f*ck, I’m gonna look ugly and snotty in all of them.”
“No you won’t.” Minho rolls his eyes. “You’re a very pretty crier.”
“Aw, you know just what to say,” Jisung teases as he settles back down, humming happily when Minho locks his arms around his waist. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to sleep tonight, he’s just so excited, but Minho knows how to lull him.
When Jisung opens his mouth to say something, Minho gently hushes him, tells him to go to sleep. He strokes his back to calm his nerves, plays idly with his hair until Jisung’s eyelids are heavy, until thoughts stop popping into his head every two seconds.
When they go to bed tomorrow night, they’ll be married. A new ring will be on his finger and Jisung will be somebody’s husband. Minho’s husband.
*****
The morning is about as chaotic as expected. They wake up early to head to the venue and smother each other in affection before Felix and Changbin pry Jisung away to go get him dressed and ready, Minho watching him go with a fond smile on his lips that Jisung pleads to kiss just one more time while his friends cart him off to his suite.
He pouts his way through the makeup and styling, anxious for things to begin, to see Minho again. He can’t sit still, his legs bouncing, fingers drumming on his thighs. Felix keeps him updated, letting him know when the photographer arrives, that the catering is running on time, that the cats have been crankily wrestled into their little tuxedo costumes.
Jisung dresses in a perfectly tailored suit, a dark forest green that seems black until he steps into the light, bringing out the brown in his eyes. Minho had let him splurge on the outfits and it shows. The fabric is soft to the touch and smooth on his skin, everything snug where it should be to make his figure feel perfect. Changbin takes a million pictures of the getting ready process for memory’s sake and talks his ear off about his hook up with Hyunjin the night before to keep Jisung’s mind occupied. Apparently, they’d really hit it off and the sex had been “so good, I literally don’t know if I can f*ck anyone else again,” according to Changbin. Jisung conspires with Felix when he steps out of the room to rearrange a few seats at the reception and put the two next to each other.
The first time he cries is when Bang Chan knocks on the door and brings his mom in to see him. He can’t help but blubber and hug her tight as she coos over how handsome he looks, how beautiful the venue is, how happy she is for him. He’s so happy that she’s happy, that she can finally rest easy and that she knows Jisung is well taken care of. She loves Minho, raves all about how much she adored him at the rehearsal dinner and that she’s glad Jisung has found someone who looks at him with so much love. When their relationship first got serious, Jisung had been worried sick about what his mom might think. He would have stayed with Minho regardless, but it would’ve stung not to have her support. Minho is much older than him, but she’s never seemed to mind. “As long as he makes you happy,” she’d said when Jisung told her about Minho the first time. And Minho does. Minho makes him so, so happy.
He sees Chan and Felix out of the corner of his eye, both of them whispering softly to one another, Felix blushing and grinning from ear to ear. It warms Jisung’s heart too, thinking his friends might be the next to walk down the aisle, that his own wedding might be making them think about their own.
Once he’s fixed himself up again and feels ready, he hugs his mom, and leaves the suite to head down to the foyer of the venue where Minho and the photographer will be waiting.
Given Jisung’s tendency to burst into tears, they decided it would be best to do a “first look” rather than see each other in their wedding attire for the first time at the altar. Plus, it gives them a moment to connect before the ceremony, to check in with each other, to savor the anticipation together before making the commitment in front of their friends and family.
When he rounds the corner, Minho is there waiting for him. His suit is the same as Jisung’s, only his is a dark burgundy red, the perfect compliment to Jisung’s green. His hair is parted and lifted to show his forehead in a handsome little coiff, minimal makeup on his face to bring out his eyes, enhance his already perfect nose and jawline. He’s making small talk with the photographer, an arts student from the university when he sees Jisung and stops.
“Hi,” Jisung croaks, eyes already welling up as he takes in the sight of him. He looks so beautiful. He looks smart and mature and handsome and kind and Jisung is already sniffling as he runs up to throw his arms around him.
“Hey, you,” Minho laughs, having to take a half step back from the force of the hug as he wraps his arms tight around Jisung. “You look perfect, baby,” he sighs, squeezing while Jisung hiccups. “My perfect Sungie, are you excited?”
“You look so hot!” Jisung wails, burying his face in Minho’s neck. “You’re so perfect, I love you. You look amazing.”
“You picked everything out.” Minho kisses the top of Jisung’s head and gives a polite laugh towards the photographer. “Just a minute, please.”
“Sorry.” Jisung sniffs and lifts his head, so he can step back and stare at Minho some more. Everything is perfect from their matching cuff links to the sprig of sage tucked in Minho’s breast pocket. His crazy wedding binders have fully come to life in front of him.
“Don’t be sorry.” Minho smiles at him and reaches out to gently brush the wetness away from the corner of Jisung’s eyes. “We can take all the time you want. I like looking at you.”
“Don’t say stuff like that when I’m trying not to cry,” Jisung groans, which only makes Minho chuckle. “Let's take the pictures, I want to hurry up and marry you.”
Minho lets out a happy sigh and steps close again, tilting Jisung’s head up to give him a kiss while the camera flashes. He lingers, cupping his cheek and kissing him earnestly, letting Jisung feel all of the reassurance and devotion he needs before they part.
They take a few posed photos together, standing close, or holding one another, big stupid smiles on their faces. Minho sneaks a pinch of Jisung’s ass that makes him squeak and the camera captures the moment perfectly. Jisung knows Minho will want that one framed.
“You ready to get started?” Minho asks, gently brushing Jisung’s hair out of his eyes, careful not to mess up the styling. “Are you anxious?”
“Just a little nervous, but I’m mostly excited.” Jisung beams, standing on his toes to smack one last big kiss to Minho’s cheek. “Let’s go get married, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Minho laughs, touching the tip of Jisung’s nose just to make him smile. “Let's go get married.”
The ceremony starts in the gardens. A cool yet sunny day, a stone path leading to a decorative iron altar ornamented with vines and flowers that fragrant the air, rows of iron benches with dark green cushions for all their guests to sit on on either side of the aisle.
Minho goes first, arm in arm with his mom who walks him to the altar while music plays from a well hidden speaker. Jisung composed an original piece for this moment. He put all of his piano skills to the test and wrote a piece of music that may bear little to no resemblance to ‘here comes the bride’ but captures his feelings of elation in having this moment. The music is light and melodic, soft and elegant, yet full of joy. It sounds like a spring morning. It sounds like how Jisung feels every time he wakes up next to Minho.
Their groomsmen follow next, their best friends in matching black suits walking in neat order. Bang Chan and Felix are at the front, one holding Soonie on a little cat bed, another holding Dori. Jeongin follows behind, gingerly carrying Doongie. Luckily, none of the cats are runners and they place the cats gently in their front row seats to watch their dads get married. Everyone giggles seeing the cats being carried down the aisle and Minho grins, containing his laughter as the guys get the cats comfortable settled and come take their place on either sides of the altar. Seungmin is next, carrying the rings. Jisung had made him do it only because he knew how much Seungmin would hate it and the look on his face of polite participation in an “extremely cringe tradition” is priceless.
Changbin is the one who steals the show. He walks out, a flower crown woven around his head and a daisy in his breast pocket with a wicker basket in hand. He does a few performative twirls on his way down the aisle, tossing rose petals over the flagstones of the path, and winking cheekily at Hyunjin. Everyone laughs and smiles and Changbin gives a bow to the audience when he reaches the altar before taking his place.
Then it’s Jisung’s turn. He steps out, arm in arm with his mom, grinning so hard it hurts as they walk down the aisle with misty eyes. He blocks out everything around him. He ignores the adoring gaze of their friends and family, the music he painstakingly composed, the hilarious sight of their cats in little suits. He just looks at Minho, focuses on walking towards him, feeling his insides melt into sticky honey as he meets his fond eyes and comes closer with every step. His mom leaves him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and Jisung takes Minho’s hands in front of the Justice of the peace. For once, they aren’t shaking.
Through the formalities of the ceremony, Jisung stays focused on Minho’s face. They suppress little giggles at the especially corny parts, exchanging subtle looks of ‘can you believe we're really doing this?’ before it’s time for their vows.
Jisung thought he’d be nervous for this part, terrified. He thought he’d feel a sense of stage fright, like he does right before he gets on stage to sing, rap, or dance. He doesn’t feel that all. He feels serene. He feels calm and overjoyed, content and eager all at once as he takes the note cards from his pocket and clears his throat.
He’s never been good at memorization, so he brought the cards just in case, a mental crutch to ease his nerves, but as he starts to speak, he finds he hardly needs them. He barely looks down at the words scrawled in his handwriting, and talks directly to Minho, like they’re the only two people here, the only two people in the world.
He talks about how Minho would come to his coffee shop every day. He talks about the books and the poems and the songs Minho would show him. He talks about their first dates and about the joy of earning the trust and acceptance of Minho’s beloved cats. He talks about how Minho is the only person that knows how to calm him down, how to soothe even his most nonsensical anxieties, how he makes him feel seen and heard and loved more than he ever imagined he could feel. He tears up. He sniffles. His voice wobbles during some parts, but all in all, telling Minho how much he loves him just feels so easy. He’s not the sobbing mess he was sure he would be at all and when he finishes his vows, Minho is looking at him with enormous glassy eyes.
He puts the cards away and takes Minho’s hands again, squeezing tight, beaming. Minho didn’t bring any cards — he’s always had a sharp memory. Now it’s his turn.
“I…” Minho clears his throat, shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath. “Jisung-ah, when I… When I met you…” He shakes his head and stops, sniffling, blinking his eyes rapidly. He tries to swallow a lump in his throat and presses his lips into a flat line to keep them from quivering. He’s crying.
Jisung’s heart swells in his chest. They were so worried about Jisung crying, that he might genuinely start sobbing too much to speak his vows, but here they are and it’s Minho who’s blubbering. Two twin tears roll down Minho’s cheeks and his hands tremble in Jisung’s grip as he takes another deep breath, tries to compose himself.
“Sorry.” Minho hiccups, looking up at the sky and blinking hard to drive back the tears. “Sorry, I just-“
“Hey,” Jisung murmurs softly, letting go of his hands and stepping closer to him. He brings one hand up to cup the back of Minho’s neck, stroking it gently with his thumb as he puts the other on Minho’s hip, holding him. “It’s okay, baby, take your time,” he says just the way Minho would say it to him if the roles were reversed. “Just look at me.”
Minho does and immediately barks out a wet laugh at himself, tears fully rolling down his face as he looks at Jisung. He puts his hands on Jisung’s waist where they belong, dips his head so their foreheads are almost touching. The microphone on the altar will pick up his words for everyone else regardless, so they stay close in the intimate embrace rather than going back to holding hands. Minho takes a deep breath and looks into Jisung’s eyes, then starts again.
He tells the story of the barista at the coffee shop with the brightest smile he’d ever seen. He tells Jisung, and everyone, how he brought music back into his life, how everything Jisung touched seemed to turn wonderful. He quotes poetry and talks about the annotations Jisung left in his favorite book, about how Jisung slept on the couch for three nights until the cats got comfortable enough to lay on top of him. He says he never thought he’d be married, never thought he could share his life with someone in its entirety until he met Jisung. He jokes that his favorite smell has become burnt rice stuck to the bottom of a pot because it means Jisung is trying to cook for him again and how nothing makes him happier than seeing the stacks of manga and comics fully integrated into his bookshelves full of old classics. He says that Jisung colors his world. He calls him the love of his life.
There’s tears on both their cheeks, but smiles on their faces when he finishes, neither of them moving to go back to their previous position. They stay holding each other, letting go only to slip the gold bands onto each other’s fingers, murmuring the necessary exchange of ‘I do’s’ with their foreheads pressed together, silently begging for permission to kiss.
When the Justice of the peace gives them to green light with “you may kiss the groom,” they surge towards one another. They kiss with clumsy force, Jisung’s hands flying up to tangle in Minho’s hair, Minho’s arms coiling around his waist. The kiss is bruising, teeth clacking with their haste, and still, Jisung thinks it’s the most magical kiss he’s ever had. It rivals the first time he ever kissed Minho, standing in his kitchen over a hot cup of tea after Minho rescued him from the rain one night after a shift. Minho keeps his hold tight around Jisung and even dips him a little backwards, kissing him to the whoops and hollers of their loved ones while Jisung swoons.
They pull apart with a teary laugh, both sniffling as they stand up straight and Minho takes Jisung’s hand in his. They walk back down the aisle giggling, waving to their friends and mothers as they follow the stone path back out of sight and another piano composition made by Jisung plays them out.
The moment they’re around the corner, back inside the venue, Minho yanks Jisung into a hug, squeezing tight.
“I can’t believe I lost it like that,” Minho laughs. “We were so worried about you crying your eyes out, I didn’t even think that I’d completely fall apart.”
“It was so sweet!” Jisung pouts, burying his face in Minho’s shoulder. “It was perfect. I love you so much, jagiya.” He kisses the side of his neck, breathes in the comforting familiar scent of his usual cologne. “So much.”
“Do we have to do the reception?” Minho whines, nuzzling his nose into Jisung’s hair. “I think we need to consummate as soon as possible.”
Jisung snorts. “After how long you spent choreographing our first dance and teaching it to me?”
“Oh sh*t, yeah.” Minho blinks. “Okay, we are definitely doing the dance.”
“Come on.” Jisung laughs, nosing at his jaw. “I know you haven’t eaten all day. Let’s go try the catering we picked out so painstakingly, hm?”
“f*ck, you planned such a nice wedding that now I don’t want to miss it.” Minho sighs and presses his lips to Jisung’s forehead. “Let’s go hear all the goofy toasts your friends made.”
“Oh God, Changbin’s been practicing for days.”
They take another minute to sit in their own little world, laughing and exchanging kisses just because they can’t stand to part before heading to the reception hall.
The food is good. Jisung loves what they picked out and their friends’ toasts crack him up. Felix laments about all of the times Jisung talked his ear off about the hot guy who kept coming to the cafe. Chan jokes about Jisung’s elaborate wedding binders, pointing out details that Jisung planned months and months in advance. Changbin actually tells a really touching story about how a lot of Jisung’s music was brooding, full of lyrics about his anxiety and insecurities. When he started seeing Minho, he started writing love songs. Songs about hope. Songs about the brightness of the future. Both Seungmin and Jeongin wish Minho luck on living with Jisung and toast to their house hopefully never burning down from Jisung’s cooking attempts. A few of Minho’s friends from the classics department speak, exposing that Minho apparently is quite the chatterbox at the office about all things weddings and all things Jisung ever since they got engaged. Jisung feels touched, but he mostly finds it hilarious. Minho plays things so cool in front of him sometimes. It makes him smile to know Minho shows pictures of him to his coworkers, that he brags about him, that he likes to show him off. He’s more of a dork in love than Jisung thought he was.
Their first dance is more fun than anything. It’s goofy and joyous and they laugh the whole time. The ceremony was emotional enough, which they knew it would be, and Jisung is aware of Minho’s secret love for girly bubblegum pop. So they dance to “Fancy” by Twice to choreography Minho came up with that’s full of dorky moves and silly spins where Minho twirls Jisung around. It’s fun and full of laughter, completely unserious, and Jisung kisses Minho stupid when they finish their routine.
Despite their eagerness to consummate their newly cemented marriage, they spend an appropriate amount of time on the dance floor with all of their guests. Jisung rarely gets to see his fiancé husband dance and he delights in seeing Minho tipsy and in his element. He moved with impossible grace even when he’s just doing silly body rolls or swaying Jisung side to side. When he bends his knees, the pants of his tux are impossibly snug around strong thighs, and when he sheds his jacket, Jisung gets an immaculate view of his ass as well.
Both of them dance a song or two with their moms and Jisung takes a break to jump around with his friends to some of their own music (Minho had insisted on blasting a little 3RACHA). They drink champagne until they’re flushed in the face and just a little clumsy, ties coming undone, vests and jackets discarded.
Eventually, a slower song comes on and Jisung puts his arms around Minho’s shoulders, lets Minho hold his waist as they sway to the music. Minho presses their foreheads together and Jisung grins at him, wide eyed and stupid in love. He’s so happy. This close, he can smell Minho’s cologne in all its familiarity. He can look deep into his eyes, a brown so dark they look almost black, like the espresso Jisung used to pour for him at the café. He closes the small gap between them, pressing his lips to Minho’s and savoring the soft warmth of the kiss.
Minho presses a hand to the small of Jisung’s back, tilts his head to kiss him again, then again, chaste but lingering a little more each time. On instinct, and a little bit of tipsy confidence, Jisung opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, sliding a hand up into Minho’s hair as his tongue brushes gently over his lower lip. He feels Minho sigh against him, licks into his mouth to swallow the precious sound.
Minho breaks the kiss by nudging his nose against Jisung’s, holding him close as he whispers, “I think we’ve spent the socially acceptable amount of time here.”
“Yeah?” Jisung shivers with anticipation, as if he hasn’t had sex with Minho a dozen times over already and is about to experience it for the first time. He feels like a virgin again all of a sudden, like he’s about to enter a whole new world, do something brand new together even if it isn’t truly new at all. When they f*ck this time, it’ll be as husbands. When their hands grasp at each other, they’ll each be wearing a wedding band. “Can we go?”
“Let’s make the rounds real quick and get out of here.” Minho smiles and Jisung feels a sudden fondness in his chest. He can’t wait for them to be alone, can’t wait for Minho to take out his contacts and put on his glasses, can’t wait to f*ck like animals and then fall asleep cuddled up.
They share one more eager kiss then quickly make their way around the reception hall, thanking everyone for coming, hugging their moms and their friends. Changbin is busy making out with Hyunjin in the middle of the dance floor, so they opt to text them their thanks tomorrow and steal the mic from the DJ to say a quick polite goodbye.
With the hotel across the street, they opt just to take Minho’s car. Everyone sees them off, cheering and wolf whistling, waving when they climb into the car.
Jisung loves them all to pieces, but he does breathe a sigh of relief when Minho starts the car and drives them out of sight. It’s been a long few hours with everyone’s eyes on him and he’s ready to sink back into the comfort of being alone with Minho.
It’s a short drive. Minho keeps a hand on Jisung’s thigh as he steers with the other, humming along to their first dance song as he quickly takes them from the venue back to the hotel. Jisung hopes there isn’t anyone in the rooms on either side of them because he isn’t going to be able to keep quiet if he tries when they get upstairs.
They’re both buzzing with excitement when they rush into the hotel, making a beeline for the elevator. Jisung feels like he’s vibrating, bouncing a little in his shoes as the elevator rises.
“Stop being so cute,” Minho groans. “We still have to clean up and get changed.”
“I’ll be quick,” Jisung promises, hurrying out of the elevator as soon as the doors open to run down to their room.
Minho catches up with him and pulls the key card from his pocket to swipe them inside, revealing their honeymoon suite freshly cleaned, the bed made up perfectly for them to ruin.
“Okay, okay.” Jisung locks the door and runs to Minho’s suitcase first, taking the silk fabric bag from the luggage and tossing it at his husband for him to catch. He doesn’t know what’s in it, only that Minho has something secret he wanted to wear for their first night. “You need less time, so go do your thing in the bathroom first, then I’ll go change.”
“You don’t want to just change out here?”
Jisung looks at him, aghast. “I have to do a reveal! It’s lingerie, I can’t just throw it on while you’re in the bathroom. I’ve got presentation to think about.”
“Okay, baby,” Minho chuckles, walking up to give him a quick kiss before turning on his heel to head for the bathroom. “I’ll be fast.”
“You better be.”
As soon as the bathroom door closes, Jisung gets to work. He takes the lube from his suitcase and sets it on the nightstand for easy access, pulls back the comforter and neatly folds it down by the foot of the bed, so it doesn’t get in the way. He doesn’t want to sleep on dirty sheets, but he doesn’t want to share their romantic first time as husbands on a scratchy hotel towel, so he planned ahead. From his suitcase, he takes a soft folded white blanket and lays it out over the whole bed, creating a soft, easily removable layer for them to make love on without dealing with any uncomfortable consequences for clean up.
He hangs up his suit jacket and the vest carefully in the closet, steps out of his pants and hangs them as well before taking the lingerie from his suitcase just in time for Minho to emerge.
“All yours, jagi,” he says and Jisung whips around to see Minho, his glasses on and his body covered only with a silk black robe tied loose around his waist. Jisung can see his bare chest through the wide V of the robe and the fabric stops only halfway down Minho’s thighs.
Jisung whines before he can help himself, looking at Minho like a kicked puppy. He wants to jump him right now, but he needs to get ready.
“You can have me anyway you want in just a minute,” Minho assures, walking up to cup Jisung’s face in his hands. “Go get dressed up for me, okay? I’ll be right here waiting.”
“You just look so f*cking hot,” he groans, tearing himself away before he can shove Minho on the bed and try to ride him dry.
He takes the lingerie and shuts himself in the bathroom. Their toiletries are already unpacked, so he finishes stripping down and washes up, so he isn’t sweaty from dancing and drinking. He washes his face, spritzes some cologne on his neck for Minho to bury his face in and steps carefully into the lingerie. He loves the set Minho bought him. It’s a pair of white satin panties built with a little extra room. They make his bulge look snug and cute and they ride high on his ass. Garters around his thighs attach to the panties and another strip of lace fastens around his waist. The sheer bralette goes on easy and clings to his chest, showing his nipples through the thin fabric and tying the whole look together. He messes with his hair a moment, making sure he’s not too disheveled (yet), but he’s too eager to keep Minho, or himself, waiting much longer.
Jisung cracks the bathroom door open and shuts the light off as he steps out, smiling shyly at his husband.
Minho is lounging on the bed in that devastatingly slu*tty robe, his gaze fond as he sits up to look Jisung over. One of the sleeves falls down his shoulder and Jisung’s heart flutters. He can’t believe that this man is his, that Minho is looking at him with this much adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, a smile pulling on his lips as he reaches a hand out. “Come here, baby.”
Jisung steps up to the bedside, blushing as Minho’s hands come to squeeze his waist, thumbs brushing over the lace. “Do you like it?”
“Of course I do.” Minho drags his hands down, over Jisung’s hips then around to squeeze. “f*ck, you’re so pretty, Sungie.” He leans in as his hands grope hedonistically at his ass, mouthing over Jisung’s nipples to tease them through the fabric, moaning low against his chest.
Jisung whines and twitches his hips forward, his dick full and stiff in the confines of the panties. He wants more, needs more. He combs his fingers through Minho’s hair, shivering as hot kisses are pressed over his collar. Minho drags his mouth down, kissing between his pecs, down his abs, all the way to the hem of the panties. He brings one hand around, cups Jisung’s bulge and squeezes gently, caressing him as he lifts his head.
“You want to come lay down for me, pretty baby?” Minho coos, his eyes fluttering shut when Jisung strokes his hair back. “Mm, that’s nice.”
“You’re a little bit drunk.” Jisung giggles. “You’re such a cat. You love my pets.”
“I do,” he says, nuzzling his head against Jisung’s hand. “I love when you touch me.”
“Mm, sensitive,” Jisung teases. He tilts Minho’s chin up and leans down, tilting his head to the side to kiss up his neck and listen to the soft gasps it elicits. Minho is so precious. He forgot that when his beloved has a little to drink, he loses more of his usual filters, indulges more in the simple touches that he loves. Moments like this are when he forgets the age gap between them, when Minho feels soft and vulnerable in his arms, lets Jisung truly see him.
Minho pulls Jisung down into his lap first, kissing him sweetly despite their eagerness as he smooths his hand up Jisung’s spine, curls it around the back of his neck. He keeps him there for a minute, trading kisses and letting his hands wander. The other sleeve of his robe has slipped down, leaving the fabric pooled at his elbows as he feels Jisung up through the lingerie. “God, I want to f*cking eat you,” he sighs, securing his arms around Jisung’s waist and easily manhandling him to lay down over the white blanket at the center of the bed.
“You can,” Jisung giggles, spreading his legs, so Minho can lie comfortably over him. His arms immediately wrap around his shoulders to hold him close, his legs coming up over his hips. He sighs when they press together, Minho’s co*ck hard and full as he grinds down on Jisung’s. He can feel him through the layers of their underwear and gasps when Minho turns his head and starts to lavish his neck with his mouth.
There’s no reason to be stingy with marking each other tonight. Minho can give him as many hickies as he wants and Jisung can wear them with pride on their honeymoon. He throws his head back against the pillow and pants as Minho sucks on the sensitive skin, one hand groping at Jisung’s chest through the lace. It feels so good to be so wanted, so celebrated, Jisung wishes he could open up his heart and let Minho peer inside, see all the ways that he makes Jisung truly feel.
Jisung pushes Minho’s robe further down his arms and pulls the sash loose, so he can take it off. At the sight of his husband’s naked torso, he lets his hands wander as they please. He squeezes his broad shoulders and his pecs, brushing his thumbs over his nipples until they’re perky and hard under his touch and Minho starts to get squirmy. He reaches around and slides a hand into Minho’s black silk boxer briefs to palm and grab at his ass, giggling when Minho quirks an eyebrow at him. “Don’t give me that look. I like your butt.” Jisung smacks it for emphasis and Minho snickers, shifting to slot his thigh between Jisung’s legs and give him something to really grind against.
“Nnn, not fair,” Jisung whines, pouting up at him while he helplessly rocks his hips, rubbing the bulge of his trapped dick against the muscle of Minho’s thigh. f*ck, he wants Minho so bad, he could get off just like this, hump his leg like some pathetic pup in heat and come all over himself like the dumb slu*t Minho makes him feel like. “Hyungie,” he croaks, mind feeling fuzzy as he presses himself up against Minho’s thigh.
“Yeah, baby?” Minho coos, mischievous as he pushes the hair out of Jisung’s eyes and kisses his forehead. “Tell me what you need.”
“Need you,” Jisung pleads, grinding harder. “Want you to open me up, I need you inside.”
“But you’re so pretty like this, look at you,” Minho says and slides a hand between them to squeeze Jisung through the panties. “Poor baby, you’re so hard.”
“Don’t be a mean husband.” He pouts, batting his eyes up at Minho. “You’re gonna start our marriage off by teasing me?”
“Of course.” Minho grins, rubbing his thumb around the tip of Jisung’s co*ck until a wet spot blooms on the fabric. “You’re so cute when I tease you.”
“Jagiyaaaaaa,” Jisung groans and sits himself up, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of Minho’s neck. He lies back and takes Minho with him, pulling him over himself and catching his lips in a searing kiss. He pulls out all the stops. He runs his fingers through Minho’s hair and moans against him, rocking his hips until they start grinding together as he licks into his mouth. He traces Minho’s back teeth with his tongue, sucks on his lower lip and nibbles, hikes one leg up over his hip and gyrates, so his co*ck rubs deliciously against Minho’s. “Make me yours,” he whispers, nipping again at Minho’s bottom lip. “It’s not official until you consummate the marriage, you know.”
“Mm, so traditional,” Minho muses, turning his head and kissing down Jisung’s neck. He slides the straps of the bralette down Jisung’s shoulders, waits for him to lift up a little, and reaches around to thumb open the clasp.
“You’re weirdly good at unhooking a bra for someone so gay.”
“…I might have practiced the tiniest bit.”
Jisung giggles and pulls Minho’s face back to his to kiss his stupid adorable husband as he tosses the bralette aside. One of Minho’s hands comes right up to grope his bare chest, squeezing his pec and thumbing over his nipple. They kiss while Minho’s hands find their way down, tugging at the waistband of the panties to pull them down. Jisung lifts his hips, shivers as Minho slides them down his thighs. He parts his legs when he’s naked, looking up at Minho, all vulnerability and complete total trust.
“My pretty baby,” Minho murmurs, smoothing his palms up Jisung’s inner thighs and parting them further. He lifts his sac, rolling his balls gently in his palm as he looks at Jisung’s hole like his favorite painting in a museum. “God, look at you…” He shuffles back and leans over him, mouthing over his co*ck without warning as he wraps his arms around Jisung’s hips to haul him up.
“Minho-ah!” Jisung cries out as a hot tongue swirls around his tip and licks down his length. f*ck, Minho is strong. He lifts his hips and brings his mouth lower, kissing over his perineum, tonguing his hole before Jisung can even register what’s happening. “f*ck, f*ck, hhhhh jagiiiii,” Jisung whines, his eyes screwed shut as Minho licks him open. When his hand curls around his dick and strokes in time with his tongue, Jisung outright sobs. He’s so pent up and everything Minho is doing feels filthy and wonderful, but it’s not enough. Minho feels too far away, even between his legs, even with Jisung’s fingers in his hair. “Hyung, hyung, please,” he pleads. “You feel so good, but I need you, need you inside, please, please?” Tears spring to his eyes as he squirms, desperate for more, for closeness, for their two bodies to become one. “M-Minho-ya, please-“
“Shh, shh, baby, it’s okay,” Minho coos, quickly lifting his head and kissing all along the sensitive insides of Jisung’s thighs. “My sweet boy, I’m right here.” Jisung is trembling with want and Minho looks up at him, nuzzling his cheek affectionately against his soft skin. “You want my co*ck this bad?” He smiles kindly, a contrast to his filthy words. “Or is my eager baby just anxious to make things official?”
“Both.” Jisung pouts, stroking Minho’s back with his foot just to be touching him. “Want your co*ck and I wanna consummate our marriage.”
“Hand me the lube, sweet thing.” Minho chuckles and holds his hand out, watching Jisung stretch over to grab it from the nightstand and press it into his palm. “I’ll give you what you want, but I’m gonna eat you out properly first thing on the honeymoon,” he says as he thumbs open the cap of the lube and slicks up a few fingers of his right hand, rubbing them together to warm it to the temperature of his skin.
“You already had cake tonight, I didn’t think you’d want to eat my ass.”
Minho stares at him and Jisung giggles. He can make all the stupid jokes in the world now. Minho’s stuck with him.
Minho glues himself to Jisung’s side and kisses him while he fingers him open, slow indulgent movements to calm Jisung’s eagerness, drag out the magic of their first night as husbands. His touch is strong, but gentle, sucking on Jisung’s lower lip, tangling their legs together, licking along his teeth like he’s exploring his mouth again for the first time.
Jisung feels like the hotel bed is a cloud beneath him, like he might float away any minute and leave Earth behind in favor of staying in Minho’s arms like this forever. He lets his hands wander wherever he likes, feeling up Minho’s biceps, raking his nails lightly down his back just to feel him shiver.
“Hyung,” he pants, tensing around Minho’s fingers just to prove he’s ready for me. “You looked so f*cking hot when you cried during your vows.”
“Shut up,” Minho mumbles against him, kissing along Jisung’s neck. “I’m not a pretty crier like you are.”
“Yes, you f*cking are. Wait until we get all the pictures back, I’ll prove it to you.” Jisung cups Minho’s face in both hands, lifts it up and nuzzles the tips of their noses together in a display of obscenely cutesy affection. “My pretty handsome husband.”
Minho cracks a smile. “I take it you’re ready then?”
“I’ve been ready for like five minutes.”
“I’m not gonna risk hurting you on a night like this,” Minho says and presses deep into Jisung’s prostate just to make him cry out. “You gonna be good?”
“Yes!” Jisung breathes out, looking up at Minho with big watery eyes, squirming with need. “I’ll be good, just please, please, no more waiting.”
Satisfied, Minho gives him a tender kiss on the cheek and slides his fingers out. It leaves Jisung uncomfortably empty and he whines, but Minho strokes his thigh with his clean hand to soothe him as he pops the cap on the lube again with the other and drizzles some over his co*ck. Jisung sees the cute way he hisses quietly at the coldness, how he shivers with relief when he strokes himself to spread it around. Jisung wants to make him come so hard, he sees a God neither of them believe in.
Maybe it’s corny or basic or vanilla for them to fall right into missionary position, but Jisung doesn’t care. Call him a prude, he loves it this way. He needs to see Minho’s face, needs him to be within kissing distance. They have the honeymoon and the rest of their lives to try every position in the Kama Sutra, but right now, Minho lays over him, brackets Jisung safely between his arms and guides his legs to hitch up over his hips. He kisses Jisung when he pushes in, soothing every needy sound he makes with his tongue as he rocks his hips, sliding home bit by bit until they’re flushed together.
“You’ll never understand how good you feel,” Minho sighs against Jisung’s lips. “Can’t f*cking believe you’re all mine.”
“All yours,” Jisung echoes, his breath hitching when Minho grazes his prostate just right. He keens when Minho hones in on it, mouth hanging open with gasps and moans. “Say my new name.”
“Lee Jisung,” Minho groans, mouthing messily along Jisung’s neck as he f*cks him harder, deeper, the frame of the bed creaking under them. “f*ck, Lee Jisung, you’re all mine, baby. All mine.”
“Yours!” Jisung gasps, arms tight around Minho’s shoulders. “f*ck, f*ck, I’m yours. Yours, yours, yours, don’t stop,” he pleads, bucking his hips, meeting Minho on every thrust as his co*ck drools in between them. “Don’t stop, want you to claim me.” He’s babbling now, his head fuzzy and dipped in honey as he loses himself to the pleasure washing over him. “I wanna be marked up a-and I want everyone to see that you did it. Want them to know I’m yours, hyungie, please.”
Instead of making a snarky comment about how the wedding rings accomplish exactly that, Minho lets out what can only be described as a possessive growl and bites where Jisung’s neck meets his shoulder. It earns a sob of pleasure in response and Minho proceeds to suck on the sensitive skin, soothing the bite with his tongue and kissing over it. He doesn’t stop there, honoring Jisung’s request by sucking mark after mark on his neck, littering him with the evidence of his love, his possession. It has Jisung crying, tears of overwhelmed ecstasy rolling down his cheeks only to be kissed away by his husband who coos and checks in time and time again that he’s crying happy tears, that he feels good, that he feels safe.
When Jisung feels Minho’s rhythm starting to stutter, sees his abs and thighs tensing, reads all the signs that he’s getting close to coming, he leans right up next to Minho’s ear. “Touch me, jagi,” he whispers. “I’m so close. Wanna come with you.”
“Sorry, I can’t last longer,” Minho pants as if he’s given anything less than an athletic and perfect performance as far as Jisung’s pleasure goes. His toes are curling, he’s so close to coming himself and he lets Minho know it.
“Baby, you’ve been f*cking perfect, I’m literally gonna pop as soon as you touch my dick.” Jisung starts to giggle, but it turns into another cry as Minho slides one hand between them and takes him in his fist. “Oh, f*ck,” he sobs, instantly overwhelmed. He’s so sensitive, his co*ck having been neglected the whole time Minho’s been drilling into him. If Minho touched him any sooner, Jisung would have come far too quickly, but waiting until the end leaves him raw and overcome. Everything is hot and slick and perfect and he can’t form words anymore. He can only cry and babble and hold Minho tight as they buck against one other and he feels his pleasure cresting. Minho f*cks into him hard, hitting his prostate perfectly, once, twice, three times, and Jisung is coming.
He practically wails as the tension inside him snaps like an overdrawn bow string, his back arching and legs shaking as he digs his nails into his husband’s shoulders. He spills wet and messy over Minho’s fist and both their stomachs and right when he’s at the very peak is when he feels sticky wet warmth paint him from the inside. Minho presses their foreheads together as he gasps, still stroking Jisung clumsily through his org*sm as his hips twitch with the intensity of his own.
“There you go, baby, let me have it,” Jisung murmurs, his mind foggy, but he wants to see Minho through. Even with unsteady limbs and his body hiccuping with little aftershocks, he brings his hands up to run through Minho’s hair, kisses both his cheeks. “So good, hyung, so good.” He kisses the side of his nose. “Love you so much, you f*cked me so so good.”
Minho collapses over him with a sigh, catching his weight on his elbows, so he doesn’t put too much on Jisung. “I love you too,” he breathes, hot and heavy where he’s nuzzling his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck. “My sweet boy.”
“Put your weight on me, I like it,” Jisung says and laughs when Minho lets himself drop with a soft little oof sound. Jisung locks his legs around his hips, keeping him inside, and delights in peppering his damp hair with little kisses, running his fingertips lightly up and down Minho’s back. “Don’t pull out. Let's just stay like this forever.”
“Yeah?” Minho presses a lazy kiss to his jaw. “Go the rest of our lives just attached dick to ass?”
“We’d have to get special pants made, but yeah.”
Minho snorts. “We can’t stay like this much longer, jagiya.”
“Why not?” Jisung pouts. “I like it.”
“Husband Jisung getting demanding already.”
“Yup. I get to make all the demands I want now. You’re stuck with me.”
“I don’t know. I think I kept the receipt on you.”
Jisung tuts, shaking his head. “No refunds or returns.”
“Not even for store credit?”
“Where? The Jisung store?”
“Yeah, I could by more of you.” Minho kisses his cheek, rises up on his elbows again. “A bunch of little Jisungs running around.”
“Well I can think of a different way we can achieve that,” Jisung laughs and, blame it on the post coital brain fog, glances down towards his stomach.
Minho quirks an eyebrow. “You know… I think you’d be an amazing dad and I’d love to grow our little family one day, but…” He sticks out his lower lip, pouts. “I don’t think I can get you pregnant, jagiya.”
“Please.” Jisung rolls his eyes and squeezes around Minho just for dramatic effect, tries to contain the total euphoria he feels that Minho just affirmed he wants to start a family one day. They’ll cross that bridge later, when they’re sober and not covered in come, but Jisung makes a note of it. He kisses the top of Minho’s head just because you can. “Not with that attitude you can’t.”
