Fics like The Iris

“Let me see just how good you can listen, hm?” Jisung says, his tone still light. “Come here Minho.” He beckons, his two fingers curling to signaling him. Minho’s body freezes. He’s calling me like a dog, Minho thinks. Minho’s self-control is hanging by a single thread. He knows that if he holds out a little longer, Jisung will have to go downstairs and he’ll be able to calm down the problem in his pants. But right now, he feels as though he has to listen, that he wants to listen. He starts to move his feet. ‘No.” Jisung says and Minho halts in his tracks. “On your knees.” OR Minho’s coworker has been begging him to join him at the male Burlesque club downtown for weeks now. Those places being well beyond Minho’s comfort zone he always declines, but tonight he can’t come up with a good enough excuse, so he joins him. Little does he know he’d become enamored with the headlining dancer and the clubs golden boy, Jisung. Jisung exudes a confidence on and off stage that Minho hasn’t experienced before. It makes him nervous, but he likes it?

Fics like The Iris

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