husband material | minsung 🔞

6

(eme, let's continue the story)

"Jisung, I'm home. Are you still here?" Minho shouted as he entered his house. At first, there was silence. Then a sudden scream from the kitchen startled Minho.

"What the fuck?" Minho ran towards the kitchen, only to be met with the smell of burnt food, a kitchen filled with bread crumbs and Jisung's face covered in flour.

"What happened?" Minho asked, slightly chuckling at the sight of a pouting Jisung.

"I wanted to cook Chicken Fillet for dinner, but then my friends called me and I got distracted." Jisung explained. Minho looked around the kitchen then laughed.

"I assuming you've never cooked before."

"I have... Cooking jormey foods just isn't my main skill."

"You mean gourmet? It's gormey, not jormey." Minho repeated. He took the plate of burning so-called-chicken fillet and threw it in the trash.

"Isn't that what I said? Gourmet."

"No, you said jormey. And also, Chicken Fillet isn't gourmet, atleast not the one you made." 

Minho took of his blazer then grabbed the broom that was just chilling on the side. 

"Oh wow, stuffed pecks," Jisung whispered, lowkey checking Minho out. Meanwhile, Minho was just minding his own business, sweeping the bread crumbs filled floor. I mean, how the fuck can a bread crumb even get under the refrigerator?

As Minho cleaned the whole kitchen, wiping off the counter and sweeping the floor, Jisung was still checking him out. Who could blame him? Man was RIPPED. Everything about Minho attracted Jisung immensely.

(the chicken fillet: side eye)

"Jisung, quit staring at me and help. You made this mess, why am I the one cleaning it?" 

"The wife is tired, so the husband's gotta do it. Besides, you're already done so what's the point in helping?" Jisung smiled cheekily, jumping up on the newly wiped counter.

"Oh yeah? But isn't the wife supposed to do these kind of things?" Minho smirked, walking up closely towards Jisung, locking him up between his enormous biceps.

"That's some misogynistic shit, and yeah, but I'm not really your wife, am I?" Jisung then bravely moved his face closer to Minho's. 

"If you aren't my wife, then why are you still here? At your husband's house? Hm?" Minho then inched their faces closer.

"If you aren't gonna kiss me right now, don't even bother inching your face closer to mine because I will never make the first move." Jisung claimed, as he attempted to wean his face away from Minho's but Minho suddenly grabbed Jisung's nape, pulling him back closer.

"What the fuck..."

"Why would I try to kiss someone who's not my wife?" Minho said, letting go of Jisung then he walked away towards his bedroom.

While Jisung was left there, trying to remember what the fuck just happened. Minho looked extremely hot in that angle and in THAT position. 

Jisung was just zoning out then Minho appeared again, but now he's in a tank top with THOSE BICEPS SHOWING??? He walked towards the fridge, scavenging around to find something to cook for the both of them.

"Do you like Beef Stroganoff? I can cook it quickly." He took out a sealed packet containing 2 steaks, sour cream and butter from the fridge then headed to the kitchen counter, where Jisung was still sitting.

"Beef Store what? I'm a lower-class person, so I don't really know those high-class dishes."

"Stroganoff, Jisung. Don't worry, you'll like this dish."

Minho started chopping onions and mushrooms, with skills of course. Minho was just focused on cooking while Jisung admired how skillfully he moved. The husband material thing once again went on Jisung's mind.

What the hell, Jisung. You don't even know each other that much!! Jisung said to himself, retaining himself from staring at Minho more.