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“Wooow, you’re staying over?”
Seungkwan slurs as he picks up his handbag from the chair beside him. He’s shaky when he stands, and even more so when he’s wobbling around the room looking for items he may have left lying around.
“It’s not so bad,” Wonwoo shrugs, drinking the last of his beer. “It’s only 2 o’clock, and our band is still here.”
More than their band of musicians, their dancers and around half of their group were still present — maybe not completely sober, but physically there regardless.
The younger idol scratches his head, milling around the premises. “Are you sure, hyung? I can ask the manager to drop you off.”
“Yup, now come on, I’ll bring you to the basement.”
Seungkwan exhales deeply in relief, “Okay okay, I wasn’t really looking for anything. I just didn’t want to seem like an ass for leaving alone early again.”
“Hyuuung! ” Mingyu whines loudly from the other side of the table, “Where are you gooiiing?”
Wonwoo snorts at the sound, turning his head back to his bandmate. “Kwannie needs to go home.”
“Oh, boo!” Soonyoung shouts from beside Mingyu, his bleached eyebrows frowning comically.
“Shut up, you drunk!” Seungkwan replies testily before bursting out into laughter.
The two continue their back and forth for a bit, enough that Wonwoo doesn’t think Seungkwan will end up going home early. When the younger takes his hand to get to the elevator though, Mingyu’s voice cuts through the noise again.
“Are we going home, Wonwoo-yah?” He stumbles over his words, his clumsy limbs causing a bottle of alcohol to spill on the table.
“No, no, I’m just taking Seungkwan downstairs,” he placates, hands frantically saying no.
He giggles, picking up another bottle. “Oh, do you want me to come with?”
Wonwoo purses his lips, worried about inconveniencing a likely drunk Mingyu. “It’s okay. It won’t take long.”
“But I want to go,” he pouts, already leaving his chair. Soonyoung makes a face at the man, swatting him away and putting his feet up on the now-empty chair.
“C’mon, hyung,” Seungkwan concedes, tugging on Wonwoo’s shirt sleeve, “I feel bad for making Jeonghan-hyung leave early.”
“Yes yes, let’s go.”
The pair successfully leave the room, only to be quickly tailed by their tallest member.
“Wait for me!” Mingyu rushes into the elevator, stopping it with his hands before it closes. His breathing is a little heavy, but he manages to trudge at Wonwoo’s side, leaning on him ever so slightly.
“Kwan-ah, you need to stay safe, okay? Text hyung when you get home.”
Mingyu blabs a lot when he’s drunk — not that sober Mingyu doesn’t. He’s grateful Seungkwan’s in a buzzed state of happiness that he doesn’t chastise his fellow hip-hop unit member about it right away.
“Thanks, Mingyu. I know you’re not here for me though.”
The ‘98 liner stares pointedly at Mingyu when the latter huffs in protest, his eyes threatening him to deny the allegation.
Wonwoo has to fight the urge to laugh. Their dongsaeng was right after all. Mingyu is exceptionally caring, always going the extra mile to make sure his members feel safe and comfortable. An inebriated Mingyu has all the same qualities, merely heightened and mostly directed to a particular bandmate.
The elevator dings to the basement floor parking. Seungkwan’s ride waits for him near the entrance, and he gives the two quick but tight hugs before letting himself into his van.
“Thanks for staying with me until now! Make good choices, you two!”
As soon as the car speeds off, Mingyu nuzzles his cheek onto Wonwoo’s shoulder, his wavy hair tickling his neck.
“You smell incredible,” he comments, digging his nose into his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
Mingyu ignores his question. “You didn’t sit next to me the entire dinner.”
“I was talking to the kids, Mingyu-yah.”
Rarely does Wonwoo have the energy to talk to people outside the twelve he sees every day, so when he finds a surge of strength to power through his socially awkward demeanor, he bonds well with their company’s executives and even with their rookie group.
“But I missed you sooo much,” he continues, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. His fingers dig into the fabric of his tank top, clawing at the cloth so Wonwoo feels his fingernails on skin.
Still, he replies in a deadpan. “We were with each other the entire week.”
He understands the sudden escalation of Mingyu’s affection. The area is strategic — a deserted parking lot in a secure building may be one of the safest places for a clandestine couple to have some time for themselves.
Wonwoo allows a few seconds for the man to continue hugging him, in hopes that he can let go of whatever cuteness aggression he has pent up inside him. However, when he pulls his body back to head to the elevator, Mingyu traps his body against his.
They’re both standing awkwardly near the machine, Mingyu holding Wonwoo possessively and the latter trying not to let his composure break and sink into the former’s arms.
“You’re really staying over?” Mingyu asks him, absentmindedly fiddling with the sides of Wonwoo’s sweatpants.
“Yeah, why not? It’s fun seeing our staff outside work.”
“Well… maybe you’d want to…” His hands slide lower to Wonwoo’s backside, softly squeezing his butt.
Wonwoo hisses at the unexpected contact. “Stop.”
His ass hadn’t recovered since last night. While he was also a part of the problem as to why said ass hurt at the moment, he knew he’d find it difficult to keep up with the man when he’s already fucked him seven ways to Sunday not too long ago.
“But hyuung,” he whines across his collarbones. He presses their middles together and oh—
“Jesus Christ, Mingyu. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“I told you I missed you,” he emphasizes, slowly grinding his hard-on onto Wonwoo’s crotch. His traitorous mind revels on how the younger can still feel so big despite him sporting a semi at most.
“Come on,” he looks into Wonwoo's eyes, latching his lips onto the bespectacled man’s jaw. “Just a little bit, please?”
Wonwoo can only groan in disappointment for being ridiculously easy before he shuts Mingyu up with a searing kiss.
Mingyu yelps excitedly into his mouth, hands firmly planted on his waist as he gyrates his hips further, chasing as much pleasure as he can in athleisure wear. The thin fabric of the muscular man’s gym shorts soon becomes insufficient in concealing his fully-erect cock, blindly rutting at Wonwoo’s growing erection.
“Ahh,” he sighs, sliding his dick in between the older slightly-parted thighs. “Can’t I fuck your hole, hyung? ”
“Shit, you can’t just say that.”
“But you’re so pretty. Look how pretty your legs are around my cock. Could just bend you over here and come on your beautiful legs.”
He raises one of Wonwoo’s legs to wrap it securely around his waist. Then, he does the same with the other.
“Much better,” Mingyu exhales, his dick now poking Wonwoo’s ass.
He leaves a messy kiss on the side of his mouth as he bounces the man on his thighs. He finds the nearest wall next to some pipes and parked cars, resting his back against the concrete as Wonwoo continues to bounce on him.
And Wonwoo truly wants to get mad at his bandmate. They were still in public, and with how things were going, his body would be more exposed in minutes. He should be rational and in fear of possible repercussions to his career.
“Let me suck you off, Min.”
His mouth works before his mind can stop him, too addled with wanting the weight on his bum to be lodged deep inside his throat instead.
“W-what? Here?” Mingyu’s entire body goes rigid, save for his dick which twitches with interest at the proposition.
“Why not?” He must be going crazy when he doesn’t mind all the sirens in his mind telling him that this wasn’t right. And he was the sober one.
“We can make it quick…” Mingyu bites his lip in consideration. “The guys must be looking for us too.”
“I’ll do my best,” Wonwoo declares with a straight face. Mingyu can’t help but burst out laughing as he sets him down.
“Even now, you sound like a robot— ah!” He makes a sound akin to a mewl.
The younger isn’t prepared when Wonwoo sinks to his knees and nearly claws Mingyu’s shorts down. He also isn’t prepared when he forcefully tugs his hard-on from his briefs, circling the tip of his cock with his tongue.
“Fuck, fuck, this is really happening here,” Mingyu blabbers, looking around the space cautiously.
“Quiet, Min,” he commands just before he hollows his cheeks and attempts to take the man’s entire length into his mouth.
“How am I supposed to be quiet when you… ahh… just like that, jagiya.”
They’re well-attuned to their preferences in sex that Mingyu knows that when he slams his dick farther down into Wonwoo’s petite mouth, his eyes will water, he’ll gag momentarily, and he’ll moan like a bitch in heat.
Maybe he was a bit of a cockslut, sue him.
He sucks on the length frantically, his sense of urgency heightened by not wanting to get caught on his knees getting another idol off. He had to get this done quickly, never mind that his own cock was begging for release.
“Quiet, Won,” the younger mocks, his pace turning torturously slow. He’s essentially dragging his length outward to Wonwoo’s lips, not letting him have the fullness he had enjoyed a while ago.
The older man glares daggers at him, gripping the base of his member to take matters into his own hands. Mingyu shivers at the contact, unable to fight Wonwoo swallowing him bit by bit.
“You’re so fucking good at this, hyung. You’re doing so well.”
His abdomen tightens at the praise, and his mouth moans around Mingyu’s length.
“Ah… I wish other people could see how well you’re taking me. God, you’re perfect.”
Mingyu’s head tips to the wall, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the motions. He has to bite his lip to stop his grunts, fisting Wonwoo’s hair to gain some semblance of control.
It’s a sight to behold from where Wonwoo’s kneeling.
He bobs his head up and down, trying to take as much of him as possible without straining his throat. It proves nearly impossible, and he succumbs to the original pattern of Mingyu fucking him until his voice becomes hoarse.
“I can’t believe you, hyung... Couldn’t help yourself… so sexy…”
He tastes salty pre-cum mixing with his saliva. With how Mingyu throbs on his lips, his body buzzes with excitement at the thought of his mouth being debauched in a new place. Perhaps he could even ask the man to come on his face. A picture of that would be hot, he thinks.
“Wonwoo, ‘m close…”
Ding.
The sound of an elevator door opening alerts him, the throes of pleasure fading away instantly under the guise of his idol image. In a feat of human speed, he bunches up Mingyu’s shorts back to his waist, and his bandmate props him up by his arms so he returns to standing.
Soonyoung’s bleary eyes widen in shock, and he rubs them with his hands. “You’re still here?”
“Y-yes,” Wonwoo responds with a cough. He’s sure he sounds completely wrecked at this point. “We were going to return upstairs.”
“It’s late,” Soonyoung purses his lips. His focus zeroes in on Mingyu standing directly behind Wonwoo, face red and ashamedly hiding his lower extremities. He then zooms into the older disheveled purple hair and yells.
“What the hell were you doing?”
“Hoshi-yah, stop screaming.” Mingyu recoils exasperatedly, pulling his arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders to shield him from their friend.
“My mind is thinking of nasty shit that happened here and I hate it.”
“Please stop,” Wonwoo closes his eyes. Great, the mood’s been killed too.
“You’re not even denying anything, holy shit!” Their friend puts a hand over his chest in an overdramatic fashion.
“Go home, Kwon.” Mingyu mumbles, glumly resting his chin on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Oh, I will,” he scoffs. “Can’t stand being with married couples who act like teenagers…”
“Stay safe,” Wonwoo adds weakly.
Their grumbling friend marches over to one of the vehicles and unlocks the door. Wonwoo freezes at a startling realization.
“Was his manager here the entire time?”
Mingyu grunts, digging his arms around Wonwoo to lead him to the elevator.
“I don’t fucking care, we’re finishing this upstairs.”
Perhaps going back to their friends was the wrong move.
The mood is simply too jovial when they return. The remaining guests are all focused on playing a drinking game that no one is on their phones or is on the verge of passing out.
“Shit,” Mingyu whispers, plopping down beside Wonwoo as one of their dancers approaches the two.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, still smoothing down his hair despite combing it with his fingers the entire elevator ride to the restaurant.
“They’ll never let us leave, hyung.”
As expected, they’re pulled into the game right away. Wonwoo can sort of cope with the mechanics as he’s already sobered up considerably since their scene downstairs, but Mingyu surprisingly doesn’t do that well in the succeeding rounds of the game.
Some of their dancers compliment him for managing to do well despite joining the game late, which he shrugs off as being lucky.
In what must be Mingyu’s third shot since they’ve stepped into the room, Wonwoo starts to worry seriously.
“This is getting ridiculous. We can leave now, Min.”
The wavy-haired man doesn’t look his way, unfocused eyes squinting at the group. His lips are angled downward in a grimace.
“Mingyu,” he elbows him from the side, finally grabbing his attention. He can’t do more than some subtle touches. They’re not blessed enough that everyone in the room knows about the full extent of their relationship.
“Wonwoo…” Mingyu takes his hand from under the table and laces their fingers together. He feels his face heat up in response to the show of sweetness. He’s not used to it, and he might never be, to be honest.
“‘m still hard…” he confesses, head bowing in shame.
“What?” He jolts from his seat. He thinks he sees Chan raise an eyebrow in their direction, but their dongsaeng keeps to himself and continues playing.
Mingyu eyes him forlornly, the grip of his fingers tightening around Wonwoo’s. If the man didn’t know any better, he’d think his bandmate was in real physical pain.
The younger shivers when Wonwoo slides his pinky on his briefs, the prominent swell bulging out of the fabric.
Mingyu’s free hand clasps the other man’s wrist fearfully, “Don’t, hyung.”
The tone of his voice elicits a primal reaction from the depths of his mind. Surely, the man knew what would come next if he acted like this.
A light tap to Mingyu’s covered slit is all the confirmation he needs.
Mingyu ghosts his lips to his ear, throwing caution into the wind.
He sounds pained when he says, “Please don’t start what you can’t finish.”
An almost imperceptible upward curl graces his lips, and soon enough, he’s pulling Mingyu in kneading his erection with his knuckles, all while Mingyu silently takes what the man gives.
“I don’t plan to.”
And Wonwoo may be a flustered mess when it comes to showing intimacy to almost anyone, but his body makes an exception for when his best friend —his husband— wants him so badly that it makes him look like a fool.
He clears his throat loud enough that half the room can hear him.
“Mingyu needs to get some air,” He announces, slowly getting up from his seat. The man beside him gets up too, his hoodie suspiciously draped over his front.
Surprisingly, no one bats an eye at their behavior. Their guests even make way for them to exit the room unscathed,
He finds the nearest unoccupied bathroom and slams it shut, ensuring it to be locked before clasping the man’s face into his hands.
“How do you want this?”
Mingyu responds nonverbally, locking their lips together forcefully that it knocks the wind out of Wonwoo. He ruts against the purple-haired man’s thigh, the intensity hitting instantly like they hadn’t had a half-hour break from the basement.
“What’s gotten… ahh… into you…” The older man gasps when his bandmate sucks a mark onto the back of his shoulder, just under his tank top.
“I waited for so long, hyung, ” Mingyu all but whimpers. “And you weren’t paying attention to me.”
“Wha—?” His question gets cut off by the idol turning him around to face the wall.
“Chang-ho…” he kisses the side of his neck. “He likes you, you know?”
“So what?” he argues, stopping himself from pressing his ass onto Mingyu’s crotch.
“He can’t do that, I already like you.”
He says it so petulantly as if he isn’t in the middle of pulling down his shorts and teasing his cock on the crack of Wonwoo’s ass.
“Wonwoo-yah,” Mingyu nuzzles his nose on his shoulder, his tone not losing its whiny lilt.
He smiles despite himself. “Go ahead.”
Mingyu lets out a noise of pleasure, eagerly taking off his pants and teasing his ass with the tip of his cock.
“Did you prep earlier, hyung?”
“Of course.”
Not an ounce of shame comes with the admission. How could there be when their libidos were constantly overrun by neverending schedules that made penetrative sex a miracle to achieve?
Mingyu double-checks, regardless. He feels one of the man’s meaty fingers prod through his hole, a little tighter after hours of inaction.
“Should’ve gotten you plugged,” he comments, knees sliding to the floor behind Wonwoo.
“Hah… yeah, didn’t think about that before the show.”
“We’ll make it work,” he laughs, licking a slow circle around his rim. The pace quickens almost immediately with Mingyu spitting saliva on his hole and stuffing it in with his tongue.
He’d say it was utterly disgusting, but he was also in no position to complain when it felt so fucking good.
“God fucking dammit, Kim Mingyu,” he mutters, a moan threatening to escape his lips. Mingyu slobbers his mouth all over, mimicking the way he’d spread lube on the days they had access to it.
“Should be good enough, no?” He says with a smack on one of Wonwoo’s ass-cheeks. He can feel slobber on his skin, and it makes him shudder in anticipation.
He makes his way to plop on top of the man’s thighs, careful not to accidentally sit on his husband’s dick.
“Mmhmm, we’ve made do with way less.”
Mingyu makes a surprised squeak, but angles his body to accommodate Wonwoo’s shift.
“You know what to do, jagiya,” he whispers, gently lifting Wonwoo’s hips and lining himself up to his loosened hole. The man on top sinks himself slowly onto Mingyu’s cockhead, a groan ripping from his throat from the burn.
“That’s it,” Mingyu coaxes him gently, letting Wonwoo adjust to his size.
The older idol appreciates him staying still despite his impatience to spear him whole as quickly as possible.
“Mingyu-yah…” he moans softly, slowly bottoming out and resting his back on Mingyu’s pecs. His lover wraps his arms around him, joining their bodies securely as Wonwoo rocks himself on his length. “You can move now.”
“Okay,” he replies shakily, thrusting his hips as effectively as he can while leaning on the floor with his shorts around his ankles.
The raven-haired idol braves the discomfort through his precision, pinpointing Wonwoo’s sensitive areas well and hitting them on the mark.
“Hyung, I’m going to come.”
“Already?” He gasps, placing his hands on Mingyu’s thighs to prop himself upward.
The loss of deep contact makes the man whimper, his angry-red cock glistening with saliva and pre-cum.
“Ah, Wonwoo, please—” he desperately grabs Wonwoo’s middle and directs him back down, the hilt of his shaft slapping his skin. He groans as he fucks into the idol, seemingly working in overdrive. “…Need to fill you up…”
“No baby, not yet,” He taps Mingyu’s knee lightly to stop his erratic thrusts, to which the younger begrudgingly complies.
Wonwoo uses the opportunity to swirl his hips down, swallowing Mingyu bit by bit. He hears the man’s sharp inhale, and he decides to be a little shit by grinding as sexily as his exhausted body can.
His husband —bless his heart— doesn’t outwardly complain, only digging his fingernails into Wonwoo’s waist to indicate his struggle.
He’s thankful his back is turned to him so he can feign concern when he asks, “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he shudders, “Take your time.”
It’s not as if Wonwoo wasn’t struggling. He feels the tip of the man’s dick close to his sweet spot, and he needs to angle his hips a certain way to not come right then and there.
But his agony was nothing compared to Mingyu’s, whose cock throbs within his walls. He’s gone awfully quiet, the sounds of deep breathing taking over the restroom.
When Wonwoo sits impossibly on the man’s lap, Mingyu’s sweaty forehead rests on his shoulder, his canines dragging through the exposed flesh on his back. He can’t be sure, but he feels dampness even on the strap of his tank top.
He cranes his neck back in shock, accidentally shifting his hips and drawing a moan from him — while Mingyu lets out a choked-out sob.
To his surprise, the younger’s face is contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his eyes snapped shut, cheeks streaked with stray tears, and his bottom lip bitten raw.
He looks beautiful.
“H-hey, are you still okay?” Wonwoo asks worriedly despite the stir the vision creates deep in his abdomen.
Mingyu replies with an incoherent noise, his teeth digging into his lip more prominently.
“Open your eyes, jagiya.” He coaxes, bringing his cheek to the tip of his lover’s nose.
It’s rare that the six-foot visual cries during sex. Despite being gentle, he’s usually more sturdy and domineering when it comes to the bedroom, an attribute the idol appreciates when he just wants to be taken care of.
“Hyung… I-I can’t—” He sniffles, his inner turmoil mirrored in the tears flowing down his cheeks. “I want to be good.”
“Can’t you be good with your eyes open?”
He laughs brokenly, “I’m not, I can’t hold back… I-I’ll hurt you.”
Maybe he did take things a bit too far edging Mingyu like he had. While he didn’t expect the younger to be so obedient tonight, he can’t be absolved from his husband suffering for his pleasure, on top of struggling with their situation on a rancid bathroom floor.
He lifts the man’s hand gripping his waist to his lips, kissing his knuckles tenderly, “You’re not going to hurt me, Mingyu-yah. I know you’ll be good to me.”
His eyes snap open, and he presses his chest against Wonwoo’s back, his bicep trapping the older’s torso tightly.
“...If you’re sure…”
“More than sure,” he grinds his hips to punctuate his sentence, earning a deep groan from Mingyu.
“Fuck,” he growls. His back pushes upwards, knees bent now to ease the glide of his shaft into his quivering core. The hand holding Wonwoo’s moves to his unattended dick, pumping it as quickly as he thrusts from behind. “Just a little m-more.”
His balls slam on Wonwoo’s asscheeks, uncaring that the sound must be obscenely heard on the outside. The lavender-haired idol isn’t doing much better, moaning wantonly as he feels his orgasm approaching.
“Ngh… So c-close,” he stutters, vision hazy from sheer pleasure. His legs burn from squatting awkwardly to accommodate Mingyu, but he’s overtaken by the need to satisfy himself stupid.
“I’ve got you, ah— gonna give you everything…”
Mingyu snaps his hips forward, pistoning his cock to hit the spot he knows well-enough drives Wonwoo insane. It seems he’s been saving it up for the finale, relentlessly pounding his prostate until his eyes roll back in desire.
“So good, Mingyu. God, you’re fucking incredible.”
He bites Wonwoo’s shoulder when he comes, spurts of warm seed shooting out of him endlessly. Even when he comes, he doesn’t let up his pace, fucking the cum back into the older’s hole when it threatens to spill from his rim.
It’s a miracle Wonwoo only comes now, Mingyu still pumping his throbbing cock and stuffing his pulsing hole. It feels surreal having so many sensations hit him at once, even more so that he’s not allowed to go overboard with his reactions. Like Mingyu, he has to bite the nearest available surface to not make a sound, which happens to be his husband’s meaty bicep.
“Ah— love you,” he breathes into Mingyu’s skin.
His legs shake from the ceaseless pounding and the man under him has to adjust the position of his thighs so he can sit without effort.
It’s oddly romantic having the man’s arms wrapped securely around him as he lets his climax pass. He can forgive the squelching sounds of cum reverberating in the room because of how gently Mingyu eases himself out of Wonwoo.
When he’s completely pulled out, his bandmate weaves his fingers through his hair to smoothen the strands.
“You ready to stand up?”
“I’d have to,” Wonwoo snorts, lightheaded but determined to exit the bathroom with some dignity.
“Our clothes are all soiled, hyung.” The younger whines, finally realizing the aftermath of their situation.
“Thought you’d fuck me against a wall and come in my mouth, but here we are.”
Mingyu slaps his shoulder lightly, “Your mouth, jeez.”
“It’s true!” He argues, just to stall clean-up. “How was I supposed to know I’d have your cum all over me?”
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu laugh tickles his nape, tone not at all apologetic. “I’d probably have done worse if it weren’t so late.”
“Yeah, serves me right for not letting you come right away.”
A part of him is regretful for the night turning out the way it did, regardless of him finding the man crying from desire extremely endearing.
“Are you kidding me?! We’re doing that again — right away if we could,” Mingyu states earnestly, snuggling his chin on the crook of his neck. “It tells me we have to get home.”
“If you say so.” Wonwoo plants his feet on the ground to hold himself up, his lower body aching in pain and his shorts still pooled around his ankles.
Mingyu follows suit, grabbing some tissues from a dispenser to clean them as thoroughly as he can. The two idols fix their disheveled appearances, taking time to ensure their clothes are free from conspicuous fluids.
He prays everyone in the sitting room is blasted out of their minds that they don’t notice their prolonged absence, but he prepares himself for the worst.
Wonwoo doesn’t need to guess too long about it when he hears a timid knock on the door as he’s removing a patch of drool on his arm.
“Hey,” Minghao calls nervously from the outside, “Are both of you in there?”
“What he means to say is — are you decent?” comes Seungcheol’s jesting voice.
“Who’s asking?” Wonwoo responds, eyes gauging Mingyu’s reaction.
“Relax, freaks. It’s just me and Myungho for now.” Seungcheol laughs, “We thought you’d gone home, but well…”
Mingyu seizes from where he stands, “Don’t finish that sentence!”
He hears the disgusted mumble of Seungcheol and Minghao’s placating tone from the other side of the door.
“Can you at least stay with us for a little longer? Everyone’s leaving.” Minghao sighs.
Wonwoo appraises Mingyu’s skeptical form, confining his sweaty body with a tender embrace. “Come on, it can’t hurt to stay a bit more.”
“You’ve changed…” The younger’s complaint is muffled by his lips on Wonwoo’s hair. “You’d kill to get home right now.”
“Shhh, let me have this.”
“Only because I love you too,” he says brightly, squeezing his slim waist. Wonwoo can’t even hide his giddiness at the quip, and he grins shyly with his ears turning pink.
“Did you two forget we were outside?!” Their leader shouts, banging the door more fiercely now.
“Go away! We’ll get out when we want to!” Mingyu screams back to Seungcheol, firmly settling his fingers on Wonwoo’s waist.
And to him, Mingyu murmurs, gaze boring through his lashes—
“On the sink, Wonwoo-yah.”