Yunho had no idea that Mingi was touching himself right now.

Touching himself and thinking about his warmth, his body pressed up against him, his sweet-smelling hair.

How he had looked as he had danced in front of him, with his arms lazily lifted above his head and his eyes closed as he softly swayed to the dreamy music.

Those dark curls in his armpits, and how they would match the thatch between his lean thighs. The thatch that was hidden within his little briefs.

How virginal he looked in his all-white underwear, especially when he got
onto his knees to pray. The way his lips had brushed against the blue rosary beads as he had prayed …

and how they would look if he were to slip the dangling chain between them.
Deeper and deeper, bead by bead, until the silver crucifix was brushing against the back of his tongue.
Until it started slipping down his throat to the wet sound of his gagging and–