89: Kiss Your Friends

Inho froze. This is too soon! I’m not ready, I didn’t think enough about – oh shit… he’s really good at this. Min tasted like the peach soju he’d been drinking too fast.

Inho made a very conscious choice to put aside his panic and focused on the man in front of him. If he’s always single, why’s he such a good kisser?

He wasn’t drunk but something was going to his head, and when he heard a rustle outside the door, he quickly pulled Min into a stall. Nobody came in, but Inho locked the door anyway. It was busy out there, and someone was bound to enter eventually. Min’s gaze was soft and hazy now, and when he moved forward to kiss Inho again, Inho didn’t stop him… again.

Any misgivings about whether getting physical with Min would turn him on, or feel creepily overfamiliar, dissolved. He almost felt lightheaded from how fast blood was leaving his brain for his dick. It had been a hot minute since he’d felt another person’s touch, and the lack was downright unbearable. He moved forward, guiding Min back, eliciting a tiny whimper when Min landed against the stall. The sound sent a shiver shimmying up Inho’s spine.

This is probably a really terrible idea, he thought, sucking Min’s tongue into his mouth. And the potential repercussions would be… so fucking bad…

He bent and picked Min up by the backs of his thighs, straining the limits of Mins fitted suit. He wanted to hear Min’s voice again, and Min satisfied him with a breathy gasp followed by a scramble to balance himself against the wall. He put a neatly laced foot on the toilet lid for balance and hooked the other leg as best he could around Inho.

See, you gotta be able to lift a man sometimes, the thought flitted through Inho’s mind, a cherished memory from a pool shared with Stephen, quickly suppressed. He pressed hard with his hips, grinding against Min, who was kissing him with the fierce passion of a seven-year unrequited crush. The angle was off now, and their teeth clicked together unpleasantly. It wasn’t enough to stop him though, so Inho tested the strength of both his legs and Min’s grip around his neck, and raised one hand to fumble open Min’s shirt.

Min’s pale skin almost glowed under the fluorescent lights, and Inho immediately wanted to leave his mark on it. He pressed his lips to Min’s chest, and scraped his teeth after them. Shit, this is hot, and we could’ve been doing it since highschool…

Inho’s mind was fuzzing to blankness, and he didn’t try to interpret the breathy sounds Min was making. He was unfocused, acting on adrenaline and instinct. A tiny voice in the back of his head was still advising that this was wrong… Was it Stephen’s voice? Or Jasmine’s? He crushed it down, filling his head instead with a vision of bending Min over the back of the toilet and pounding him till he wept.

Before he could suggest it, Min struggled his hand away from the wall and pressed it open palm across Inho’s face, shoving him away. The shift in weight finally made Inho’s overly ambitious stance buckle, and the pair fell on the tile floor in a tangled mess.

Min scrambled up first,  “Are you okay?” He asked desperately fumbling his open buttons shut. “Damn, Inho. I’m sorry.”

Inho picked himself up slowly, then just sat, stunned, on the floor.

“Min, what the hell?!” He looked up indignantly at Min who was kneeling beside him. Min’s hand twitched to push up glasses that he wasn’t wearing.

“Ahhhhhh, I know, I’m sorry! I panicked.”

“Why though!?” Inho’s brain was three steps behind and way too slow to grasp why he was now on the floor instead of kissing Min, “You kissed me!”

Min sat back on his heels, now that he was confident that Inho wasn’t hurt. “It’s just… You were moving too fast… This isn’t exactly how I want things to go after liking you so long, you know?” He sighed heavily, and continued, “Coming here like this was stupid. I– I just didn’t want you to meet someone else… I’m a bit drunk, and I got carried away. I’m acting like an idiot… Sorry.”

Min looked as tragic as a wet kitten, “It’s alright, let’s–”

A few meters away, someone entered the bathroom. They were still sitting on the ground, and it would be visible to anyone who passed. “Quick!” Inho gestured, but Min was way ahead of him and flitted up to perch on the toilet tank, leaving room between his feet on the toilet lid for Inho to sit. Now it would look like only one person was in the stall. It was a maneuver they’d perfected in high school while sneaking off to smoke in cramped bathrooms during classes.

They both sat tensely while someone entered the next stall and clinked around before settling down to pass obscenely loud gas. Inho’s teenage self snuck out, and he snickered. Min leaned forward and whispered in his ear under a cupped hand, “D’you think that’s Junseo?”

Inho burst out laughing, and the next stall’s occupant, who was still releasing a torrent of noise cursed at them. Without acknowledging the absurdity of what they were doing Inho stood and helped Min climb down from the back of the toilet. He silently indicated they should leave with a jerk of his head, and Min nodded. Straightening their clothes, they left the bathroom with as much dignity as one can muster after crawling from floor to toilet while a man destroys the stall inches away.

“Can we… talk?” Inho said, when they’d escaped the shameful bathroom.

“Of course.” Min grabbed a tall stool at the bar and pulled it out for Inho before seating himself. The bartender nodded at them, busy still with another customer. Side by side, they sat in the curious silence found in the aftermath of leaving kiss marks on your oldest friend’s chest.