Why the hell is he shirtless?
Yun Jiho clicked his tongue, lashes faltering for a second.
Tsk.
He lowered his gaze back to the screen of his tablet, pretending to focus.
Jiho tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie tighter, fully aware of the chill in the air.
Seriously, there was something wrong with this guy. The temperature was nowhere near warm.
And there he was, Seo Minjae.
Lounging like some damn centrefold on the couch with his legs stretched out and seemingly absorbed in his laptop.
Did he think he was in the middle of a photoshoot or something?
Wet hair tousled from the shower, strands falling messily over his forehead and a pair of sharp attractive eyes staring at him.
W-wait!
Damn it.
"You've been staring for the past five minutes."
Jiho flinched. He tried to keep his expression flat as always. "... Keep daydreaming."
He didn't.
Alright, maybe over three minutes.
"Yes, sir." Minjae mused and chuckled lightly before looking away.
Jiho tried not to care about this guy with no decency. But no matter how he shifted, he couldn't completely removed Seo Minjae from his field of vision.
From the corner of Jiho's eyes, Minjae was comfortably leaning on the couch with one hand tuck behind his head. His brows were drawn together in a rare show of concentration.
Jiho caught the faint trailed of water flowing along his collarbone, tracing the sharp lines of his body, slipping lower and finally disappearing past his waistband.
Jiho's gaze stayed there for a split second.
Black ink coiled lazily along the lines of his hips, covering almost half of his sides.
Like a sneek peek, the rest were hidden behind his last line of defense.
Tch.
Focus.
Jiho gritted his teeth, dragging his attention back to his tablet. His stylus hovered uselessly over the screen.
"... You've got a staring problem, hoobae-nim."
Jiho didn't even realize when Seo Minjae had set aside his laptop and shifted his eyes towards him.
Seo Minjae lazily sat on the couch, one hand propping up his face, elbow resting on his knee. "Yun Jiho, do you know you're really bad at pretending?"
"Huh?"
"If you're that interested, I'll allow it."
"... W-what do you mean?"
Jiho's hand tightened around the stylus when he saw Seo Minjae casually getting up and walking towards him.
Hell, what is that even supposed to mean?
What are you allowing?!
"I usually don't like it when it's men," Minjae said, stopping in front of him. "But for my precious junior, I'll make some sacrifice."
Men? Sacrifice? Was this guy seriously implying–?!
Jiho's brain short-circuited for a second. The grip on his stylus tightened like he was about to snap it in half.
"Can you, uh..." Jiho coughed, struggling to keep a blank face. "Step back a little and talk?"
Minjae smirked. "I'm not here to talk."
He grumbled. "Sunbae, you're invading my personal space."
Jiho was blinded by the visual assualt in front of him.
"Don't be shy, go ahead and look." Minjae teases.
Then he hooked his thumb into the band of his sweatpants, tugging it down just a little to reveal more of the black ink snaking along his side.
"W-what are you doing?!"
Jiho snapped his eyes away so fast his neck nearly cracked.
What was that? Some dragon tail artsy symbolic bullshit?
"Why, I thought you were curious?" Minjae tilted his head, looking visibly innocent. "You've been staring at it for the past ten minutes."
"What?"
"My tattoo..." Minjae said easily and drawled. "Is it that cool?"
Oh.
Tattoo... Heh.
Jiho felt the heat climbing up his veins somehow. Hot and unbearable.
He denied immediately. "... I wasn't staring."
He wasn't even into tattoos.
At least, he doesn't think he was.
Minjae snorted, ruffling his wet hair with one hand and pushing it back. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, hoobae-nim."
Jiho gave a blank stare. But inside, he was combusting at a spiritual level.
Fucking Seo Minjae.
Shameless bastard.
I can't be corrupted by worldly affairs.
"Want a closer look?" Seo Minjae leaned in a little, wearing a cocky little smile at his mouth. "Maybe it'll inspire you to get one too."
"I'd rather gouge my eyes out." Jiho stated cooly, lightly shoving him away.
"I didn't expect our Jiho to have such unique taste."
Jiho fumed. "You–"
"Alright, alright." Minjae raised his hand in surrender, low smile hanging on his lips. " I was just kidding."
Then he went inside his room for a bit.
Jiho exhaled, barely calming down. He took off his glasses and roughly clean it.
Minjae walked out of his room, carelessly grabbing a black shirt.
He pulled it over his head in one smooth motion, the fabric draped over his body perfectly.
Jiho finally sighed.
Decency restored. Barely.
"I'm making something." Minjae headed into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and asked. "What do you want to eat?"
"Anything." Jiho mumbled, curling into the farthest end of the couch.
Minjae paused, then took out a bunch of veggies and spam. "Is fried rice okay?"
"As you like."
Jiho yanked his tablet closer and cranked the brightness to the max until the harsh white light burned his retinas.
A fortress of pixels.
Holy barrier against sinful distraction.
Ugh.
Nothing could block out the faint noises from the kitchen. The sound of sizzling pan, Minjae easily moving around the kitching humming a low tune under his breath.
Oh.
Jiho briefly caught a glimpse of Minjae when he moved around.
The hem of his t-shirt lifting slightly when he reached for something.
The way his hair fell into his eyes when he leaned over the counter.
He quickly looked away.
Jiho scowled at his screen, pretending to be engrossed in whatever meaningless app he opened.
Freaking hell, why does it look like he'e filming a cooking show?
No need to be that ridiculously fine.
It was frankly foul.
Jiho told himself he was only observing.
Maybe a little appreciating.
I get it now.
Maybe he finally understood why everyone seemed a little insane when it came to Seo Minjae.
Not that he was joining them.
Jiho burrowed deeper into the couch, hiding behind his tablet.
Stay strong, Yun Jiho. You're better than this.
Probably...