hate the game, not the player- MINSUNG

Jisung found himself in an empty classroom-a strange, quiet space that felt more like a stage set for something surreal. He glanced around, confused, when suddenly a voice cut through the silence.

"What you up to, princess?"

He barely had time to register the sound before a shirtless Minho strutted in, holding a strawberry with such sensual care that the juice dripped slowly down his abs. Jisung's heart raced as he quickly averted his eyes, though a small gap remained-he couldn't help but steal glances.

"Like what you see?" Minho purred, sliding closer. He reached out, grabbed Jisung's hand, and traced it slowly down his own muscular abs.

Jisung, emboldened by the absurdity of it all, whispered, "Keep going."

Minho smirked and began a slow, seductive dance, deliberately unbuttoning and sliding his pants down. Jisung's eyes widened as he took in every exaggerated, spicy movement, the whole scene feeling like a fever dream of lust and mischief.

Just as the tension reached its peak-and before Jisung could even process his own racing pulse-the shrill sound of an alarm clock shattered the spell: TUUUT TUUUT TUUUT!

Jisung jerked upright, eyes wide in shock as reality crashed in. In that moment, the vivid, sensual fantasy evaporated, leaving him staring at his own disheveled form. And yes, there was unmistakable evidence of his excitement.

"What the actual fuck?!" he screamed, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief filling his voice.

At school, Jisung couldn't take his eyes off Minho. He kept muttering under his breath, "God, I wish I could fully remember that night... born to ride, forced to be rivals... I'd take it whole." Just as his mind was drifting into those forbidden thoughts, Minho turned around, making Jisung cough so dramatically that his gaze snapped back to his friends.

Minho simply rolled his eyes at the over-the-top antics of the smaller guy before turning back to whatever cool task he was doing. Later, in the bustling cafeteria, Jisung's gaze wandered to Minho again-this time, as he was eating a banana. Jisung's eyes widened as he watched Minho practically suck on it, savoring every bite.

"He sucks good," Jisung mumbled, too loud for his own good. Before he could stop, Felix caught the comment.

"Did you say something, Sungie?" Felix asked, arching an eyebrow.

Caught off guard, Jisung looked up, his words tumbling out before he could filter them: "Yeah... I want to fuck Minho again."

Silence. Then, chaos erupted. His friends-Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin-stared at him wide-eyed, mouths agape.

"W-what?!" Seungmin dropped the food he was holding, nearly choking on it.

Realizing the bombshell he'd just dropped, Jisung's face turned a shade that suggested he'd just seen a ghost. "Oh..." he mumbled, pretending as if he'd fainted right there. Felix shook him, barely holding back laughter.

"YOU ADMIT IT? JUST LIKE THAT? AGAIN?" Felix roared, half-teasing, half-disbelieving. "You want to fuck Minho? AGAIN?!"

Jisung, still playing the part of the dramatically "dead" one, didn't respond as his friends bombarded him with questions and wild accusations.

In that moment, amid the clamor and laughter of the cafeteria, the bitter rivalry and secret desires collided into one unforgettable, spicy, and hilariously chaotic scene.

Every night, Jisung's dreams became a wild, sensual montage-sometimes flashes of reality, sometimes his overactive imagination running wild with fantasies of Minho. At school, he'd catch himself staring at Minho, lost in his own spicy thoughts. For a while, the usual bickering was strangely quiet.

That fragile peace shattered when they found themselves cleaning the dressing rooms again. As usual, Minho was in full bad-boy mode, barking orders.

"Get out of the way, asshole!" Minho snapped, shoving Jisung aside.

Jisung, however, wasn't upset. Instead, he stood there, practically drooling as he watched Minho's aggressive cleaning-those sculpted, muscular arms working the mop like a pro.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, catching Jisung's lingering stare. "I swear to god, Jisung-if you're having those weird sexual thoughts again, get it out of your head," he muttered, clearly irritated.

But Jisung just sat down and let his eyes wander, imagining a shirtless Minho cleaning like a true stud. His gaze widened in amused fascination when, in his mind, dream-Minho started casually slipping off his pants.

Before Jisung could dive any deeper into his fantasy, Minho punched his arm lightly. "You're so fucking weird-clean, or I'm snitching!" he barked, not willing to let his rival get lost in his own delusions.

Jisung just scoffed, flipping his hair with that dramatic flair only he could pull off, and reluctantly got back to work. Even as he scrubbed the floor, his mind danced with secret amusement.

After cleaning up, both were ready to leave. Minho changed into his normal clothes while Jisung watched him like a full-on psycho. As Minho turned around shirtless, he rolled his eyes and snapped, "Don't get anything in your head," but then he caught sight of Jisung staring downward. Confused, Minho glanced at his own reflection and-his eyes widened in shock-he let out a high-pitched scream like a little girl when he saw his well-toned abs.

Fuming, Minho growled, "I'm this close to getting your ass on a restraining order!" His tone was furious, every word laced with anger.

Jisung, instead of getting defensive, simply hummed in amusement and continued watching Minho change. Unable to control his burning curiosity, Jisung suddenly stood up, walked over, and, on his tippy toes, leaned in to whisper in Minho's ear, "Seriously, why are you so hot?"

Without a moment's pause, Minho shoved him off and bolted out of the room, leaving Jisung laughing at the absurdity of it all.