It wasn’t until Minho had been sitting at the restaurant for an hour longer than he should have been that things started to make sense.

Having loads of time to sit there in silence, waste his youth away with a good staring competition with the melting ice cubes floating in his water, and listening in on the buzz of pleasant conversation around him, he got to thinking… Was it normal to have your first thought be ‘I should have picked him up’ when stood up for the third time that week? Was it normal to automatically put yourself at fault?

He didn’t have much experience with dating other than with Kibum, so he wasn’t quite sure how other people’s relationships worked—how theirs was probably supposed to work. He didn’t know, and yet this particular hour long wait told him something was a little off.

Was…was he whipped?

All the times Minho was forced to go to the store for Kibum because he was too busy, all the times he did odd jobs around town for him because he just didn’t feel like it, all the times he waited on him, hand and foot, to make up for all the things he’d supposedly done wrong…

How did things even get that bad? Kibum wasn’t even putting out! Minho might be able to endure a little more, if he had been. What the hell was he doing practically wrapping himself around Kibum’s baby finger when the farthest he’d ever gotten with him was a quick one time after all these months?

There was a break in his enlightenment as his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. Shaking his head—mind still blown from all the realization flooding in at one time—he dug it out, pressed a button, and answered.

“Yoboseo?”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long again. I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm.” Kibum’s voice was thick and saccharine as syrup. It oozed through the phone with a sort of ual appeal that had Minho’s already muddled mind in complete disarray.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Mmmm,” What was supposed to sound like a noise of confirmation sounded an awful lot like a moan. Was he doing this on purpose? He had to know that it sounded ual. Did he know? Oh, Minho was getting hot. Was it hot in the restaurant before then? “I’ll start getting ready now, okay? I’ll wear those pants you like and make myself up for you, baby. Just wait a little longer.”

Minho didn’t even know how to respond. His voice sounded so y like that. The way the phone crackled made it sound even huskier, and, he must admit, it was the absolute best. He just wanted Kibum to keep talking…

When he failed to answer in a timely manner, Kibum was quick to lay on the extra sugar.

“You aren’t mad, are you, baby? I’m sorry~”

All the from his voice was dancing around the mud in Minho’s head—the shapely form swaying in the most graceful and provocative way he could imagine.

“N-no, of course not. Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry about it.”

He said all of this knowing the boy on the other side of the phone was a tease, knowing he wasn’t going to get any. Somehow, the promising tone prevailed yet again. Yeah, things were starting to make a whole lot of sense… Everything he was thinking about before suddenly was gone with a simple heart-shaped poof.

. He was whipped without any of the benefits.

Minho sighed—what was he even doing with his life?

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Author’s note: So I’ve pretty much hit a creative roadblock yet again. I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore. I literally put my iTunes on shuffle and the first song that came up (The Buzzcocks- Time’s Up), I tried my damnedest to find inspiration in. These are the results. OTL It was supposed to be kind of funny in a romantic comedy sort of way. Did it seem like it?