Jihoon × Minjae | Bodyguard AU | Jealousy, Possession, Heat
{{{Prince Minjae plays the brat in public—demanding, spoiled, always getting his way. But behind closed doors, it's Jihoon, his silent and dangerously composed bodyguard, who takes control. Their secret affair is built on stolen touches, unspoken rules, and nights that blur the line between devotion and sin. Because when the door locks, only one of them gives the orders—and the prince loves to obey.}}}
The sun burned high over the training yard, casting sharp shadows on the concrete.
Jihoon stood at the center, dressed in black cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt that clung to every muscle. He barked instructions at the trainees around him, voice low, commanding.
Minjae watched from the second-floor balcony. Arms folded, brows drawn. He wasn't pouting. He was just… annoyed.
Jihoon had barely looked at him today.
Worse—he kept smiling at that girl in the green tank top, the one who giggled every time he corrected her stance. Minjae's jaw tightened when he saw Jihoon put a hand on her shoulder to adjust her grip.
She laughed. He laughed.
He was flirting. Wasn't he?
Jihoon didn't flirt.
Not with him, at least. Not unless they were behind locked doors, tangled in sheets and quiet groans.
"Stupid training," Minjae muttered, spinning on his heel and vanishing inside.
Jihoon didn't come to their suite until hours later. His hair was damp from a shower, T-shirt clinging to his chest.
Minjae sat curled on the couch, hoodie zipped up to his chin. Silent. Distant.
Jihoon shut the door, tossing his gloves onto the counter. "You're quiet."
Minjae didn't look at him.
Jihoon cocked his head. "You're mad."
"I'm not."
Jihoon stepped closer. "You're lying."
Minjae stood abruptly. "Do you touch all your trainees like that?"
Jihoon blinked. "What?"
"That girl in the green. You were laughing with her. Touching her."
Jihoon's eyes darkened. "So that's what this is."
"You ignored me all day."
Jihoon stepped forward. "Because I was working."
"You smiled at her," Minjae accused, voice tight.
"And you lost your mind over a smile?" Jihoon's voice dropped low, dangerous. "Are you jealous, baby?"
Minjae's breath hitched. "You didn't even look at me."
Jihoon crossed the room in two strides, gripping Minjae's chin and tilting his head up.
"You're the only one I see."
Minjae's eyes fluttered shut.
Jihoon leaned closer, breath hot against his ear. "But if you want me to prove it… I will."
Jihoon shoved Minjae gently against the bedroom wall, caging him with both arms.
"You want attention?" he murmured, fingers sliding under Minjae's hoodie. "You'll get all of it."
Minjae's breath stuttered. "Jihoon…"
Jihoon's hand closed around his throat—not tight, just enough to hold him there.
He pressed a kiss to Minjae's pulse point, then bit, leaving a mark. Minjae whimpered, legs trembling.
"Jealous little thing," Jihoon whispered. "You could've asked. But no—you sulk. You pout. You glare."
He slid his other hand down, palm flattening over Minjae's thigh. "Now you'll take what you asked for."
Minjae gasped as Jihoon lifted him, pinning him to the wall with his hips. Their lips met in a bruising kiss—nothing soft. All teeth, breath, hunger.
Jihoon rocked against him, rough, slow, deliberate. Minjae's hands clutched his shoulders, helpless.
"You wanna be my good boy?" Jihoon growled. "Or do you want me to treat you like a brat?"
"Good!" Minjae cried. "I'll be good! Please!"
Jihoon grinned against his neck. "Then beg."
Minjae whined, breathless. "Jihoon, I need you—I need your mouth, your hands—please, please touch me—I want it, all of it—"
"Good boy," Jihoon whispered. "Now keep those hands where I put them."
He didn't go easy.
Jihoon stripped Minjae bare, laying him down on the bed like something fragile he'd punish gently.
He kissed every inch of skin. Bit at his thighs. Licked into the curve of his ribs. Left marks all over his chest.
Minjae cried out and arched when Jihoon sank his teeth into the dip of his hip. The sound made Jihoon's cock throb against his jeans.
He shoved Minjae's pants down without ceremony, stripping him bare in seconds. Jihoon's eyes fluttered open just in time to see Minjae's cock spring free, flushed and hard, already slick with need.
"Look at you," Jihoon growled, gripping Minjae's thighs and dragging him to the edge of the bed. "All worked up over nothing."
Minjae whimpered as Jihoon spread his legs wide.
"You wanted attention?" Jihoon leaned down, voice venom-sweet. "I'll fuck the brat out of you."
He spit on his cock, slicked it once, lined up—and thrust.
Minjae screamed—hands flying to grab the sheets, body jerking as Jihoon sank in deep, all the way to the hilt in one brutal push.
"Jihoon… ahh!"
Jihoon didn't give him time to adjust. He grabbed both of Minjae's wrists, yanked them above his head, and pinned them to the mattress.
"You're gonna take it," he growled.
He started to move—hard, fast, every thrust punching the air from Minjae's lungs. The bed slammed against the wall with every stroke, wood creaking violently beneath them.
"Louder," Jihoon hissed. "I want the whole damn floor to hear you."
Minjae couldn't even moan properly—just ragged, broken gasps as he clung to the sheets, mouth open, drooling against the pillow.
"Taking me so well," Jihoon groaned. "Such a good little toy when you stop pouting."
He reached around again, stroking Minjae mercilessly, cock already swollen from the second round.
"Come again," Jihoon ordered. "Do it for me. All over my fucking hand."
And Minjae did.
With a strangled cry, his whole body locked up and he came—again—his vision whiting out, body twitching violently.
Jihoon was right behind him, shoving in deep and grinding his hips as he spilled inside again, low moans rumbling against Minjae's back.
They collapsed in a tangled mess of limbs, sweat, and breath.
Jihoon wrapped an arm around Minjae's waist and pulled him close, pressing kisses to his shoulder and jaw, whispering soft things against his skin.
"You were showing off," Minjae mumbled.
Jihoon smirked, stroking his back. "Maybe."
"You like making me jealous?"
Jihoon laughed softly. "No. But I love how you fight for me."
Minjae hummed, burying his face in Jihoon's neck.
Minjae, dazed and blinking, sighed. "I'm still a little mad."
Jihoon smiled lazily. "Good. That means I'll get to do this again."