5. Silent
The squad had scattered after another loud night of fried chicken, beer, and endless bickering. One by one, they'd peeled off — Jisung heading home with Hyunjin hanging off his shoulder, Changbin dragging Jeongin back to the dorms, Felix and Chan lingering to lock up.
Only two shadows lingered by the dim glow of a streetlamp: Seungmin and Minho.
Seungmin tugged his hood tighter, the chill biting through his thin jacket. "You good? You're usually gone first."
"Wanted to talk," Minho said, voice calm. Too calm.
Seungmin frowned. "Talk about what?"
Minho's lips curved into that lazy, dangerous smile — the one that always meant he knew more than he should. "About your little... side gig."
Seungmin's pulse stuttered. "What?"
Minho tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Don't play dumb. The streams. The donations. The way you stare at the camera like you're daring someone to catch you."
Seungmin's throat went dry. He forced a laugh. "You sound insane. You been watching too much porn or something?"
But Minho didn't flinch. He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumb swiping across the screen. A second later, he held it up.
Seungmin's stomach dropped.
It was him. His room. His body leaning back in the chair, mouth parted mid-sigh. Just one second — one fucking second where his camera had tilted too far. His face, clear as day.
"Such a cutie," Minho drawled, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Almost forgot you used to look at me the same way when we were kids. Like you wanted to bite."
Seungmin's chest burned. "Delete that."
"Why?" Minho stepped closer, the air shifting heavy. "It's good money, right? You must've made bank off dumbasses jerking off to your bratty little mouth."
"Fuck you."
"Mm." Minho smirked. "That's a good idea."
Seungmin's breath hitched. The way Minho said it — smooth, low, filthy — it wasn't just a threat. It was an invitation.
"You gonna blackmail me?" Seungmin forced out, but his voice cracked. "That's your plan?"
Minho leaned in, close enough that Seungmin caught the faint smell of smoke and cologne.
"Depends. What's it worth to you for me to keep quiet?"
His heart hammered so loud it drowned the city noise. He should've been terrified. Should've shoved Minho away, told him to fuck off.
But instead, heat crawled under his skin, coiling low in his gut.
Minho saw it. Of course he did. His smirk sharpened, eyes dark with something hungry. "Knew it," he whispered. "Knew you'd like this."
Seungmin clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. "You don't know shit."
"Sure I do." Minho's voice dipped, rougher now. "I know you want someone to drag you out of that little performance and ruin you for real. Don't pretend otherwise."
The world tilted. Seungmin's head spun. Every nerve screamed danger, but his body leaned closer anyway.
"Say it," Minho pressed. "Say you'll do what I want. Or I'll let the others see exactly what you've been up to."
Seungmin's chest heaved. The image of Jeongin's sharp eyes, Jisung's shocked face, Hyunjin's endless mocking — it all crashed through him.
Then Minho's gaze caught him, hard and unrelenting. The only out. The only choice.
"I'll do it," Seungmin whispered. Too fast. Too eager.
Minho's grin was all teeth. "Good boy."
They walked in silence back to Seungmin's place. His hands trembled as he unlocked the door, letting Minho slip inside like he owned it.
The air was thick, charged. Every creak of the floorboards echoed too loud.
Minho leaned against the wall, watching as Seungmin kicked off his shoes. "Nervous?"
"Shut up."
"That's not a no."
Seungmin shot him a glare, but his chest was tight, breath shallow.
Minho pushed off the wall, closing the distance slow, deliberate. His fingers brushed Seungmin's chin, tilting his face up.
"Relax," Minho murmured, almost gentle. "You're acting like I dragged you here at gunpoint."
"You might as well have," Seungmin muttered.
But his lips parted when Minho's thumb pressed against them, the faintest touch. His body betrayed him, leaning forward.
Minho's eyes gleamed. "See? You're already begging without saying a word."
Seungmin's knees went weak. He hated it. He loved it. He wanted to tell Minho to fuck off, and he wanted to drop to his knees at the same time.
"Stop playing," Seungmin rasped.
Minho chuckled, low and dark. "I'm not the one playing, pretty boy. You are. Every night, on camera, mouthing off like you're untouchable. But look at you now."
His thumb slid down, grazing Seungmin's throat. "Pathetic. Desperate. Exactly how I want you."
Seungmin shivered. The words sliced through him, sharp and filthy, but they landed too deep.
He was already gone.
Minho's mouth ghosted by his ear. "So here's the deal. You give me what I want. No whining, no running. And your little secret stays between us."
Seungmin's heart hammered, loud enough Minho must've heard it.
He should've said no. Should've fought.
But instead, he swallowed hard and whispered, "Okay."
Minho pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes gleaming with victory. "Say it clearer."
Seungmin met his gaze, breath shaking. "I'll do it. Whatever you want."
The grin that broke across Minho's face was lethal. "Knew you would."
He brushed his knuckles over Seungmin's jaw, slow and claiming. "Tomorrow night. My place. Don't keep me waiting."
Then he stepped back, slipping his hands in his pockets like nothing happened. "Get some sleep, pretty boy."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Seungmin stood frozen in his empty apartment, pulse racing, lips tingling where Minho's thumb had pressed.
He should've felt trapped. Should've felt terrified.
But all he felt was anticipation.
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