Work Text:
Alright. It’s a nice dick. Even Namgyu can admit that, no matter how begrudgingly it may be. He tries not to think about it for too long, tries not to stare at it for too long, but damn. He finally understands how exactly an asswipe like Myunggi managed to land and impregnate a girlfriend. He doesn’t think it’s very fair for a guy like that to have a penis like this, but, yeah, he really needs to stop dwelling on this and turn his attention to the little red patch planted firmly on Myunggi’s tracksuit. That’s what they’re here for, after all, among all the other grievances they have with the bastard.
Namgyu is certain that the effects of the tablet Thanos had given him earlier should have worn off by now, but he’s still feeling it full force. He was barely even thinking when he reached out to grip Myunggi’s shoulders and told him to finish, sparing a glance to his now clothed dick. He’s not gay. He’s just trying to be annoying. Definitely.
He's not about to stop there either—but then he catches sight of player 001, and he’d never admit it, but after swiftly getting his ass beat by the man the day prior, he’s not too keen on getting into another altercation with him.
Instead, he lies in wait. He can be patient. When he wants to be.
He gets his chance when he sees Myunggi slip back into the bathroom. Sparing a glance to Thanos, the man is distracted trying to sweet talk a half amused half unimpressed Se-mi in english. It's fine. He prefers it that way, really. He’d rather not get the idiot involved in his affairs, anyhow, even if he could be a good tool to provoke Myunggi. He doesn’t need him right now. He can manage just fine on his own. He slides off the bed with ease, slinking towards the bathroom and pushing the door open. They’re alone now, and it seems Myunggi had just finished his piss from earlier, pulling his pants up.
“Hey.” Namgyu greets with that familiar condescending lilt to his voice. “Ah, you took my advice?” he vaguely gestures to myunggi’s groin. He doesn't know why he's so fixated on it. Blame it on the drugs.
Myunggi doesn't even dignify that with a response. He completely ignores him, seems almost as if he didnt hear him at all if it weren't for the tell tale sign of his eyebrow twitching in irritation. He’s washing his hands now, shakes them in a shit attempt to dry them faster, and tries to slip past Namgyu and out the door. Namgyu, of course, isn’t having that. Who does this bastard think he is, ignoring him? He's always been quick to rise to anger, and it's even worse when it comes to the guy who basically ruined his life. He steps an inch over in front of him just before Myunggi can get to the door, their shoulders bumping together roughly.
“Where are you going, huh?” he narrows his eyes. “We’re not finished speaking.”
Myunggi just tightens his lips into a thin line. He looks as annoyed as Namgyu feels. “Piss off.” he finally murmurs lowly, tries to walk past him again.
Namgyu, of course, presses his hand to his chest and shoves. Myunggi must be far more pathetic than he originally thought, because he actually stumbles back a little, reaching out to grip the edge of the sink to steady himself.
“What is your problem?” Myunggi spits out, more venom coating his voice this time.
“What’s my problem?” Namgyu repeats, bewildered, making a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “You ruined my fucking life, that’s my problem, you bastard.”
He stalks closer to him in a way he thinks appears menacing, and relishes in the way Myunggi actually takes a step back. It makes him feel powerful, intimidating other people, and the feeling is much sweeter when it's this guy in particular. He's not sure what his plan is; all he knows is that they’re alone and he's pissed and he might still be a little high, and he could maybe beat myunggi in a fight if he really tried. After all, he barely stood a chance against them the day before, even if Thanos was doing most of the work. It doesn't matter. He could do it, if he wanted. Myunggi lets out a soft huff, that familiar expression of bewilderment and frustration twisting on his face yet again.
“Leave me alone.” He does manage to get past him this time, brushing their shoulders together none too gently as he makes his way to the bathroom door.
He doesn't let him get too far, though, quickly reaching out to grasp at the baggy fabric of his tracksuit, tugging him back and making him nearly fall.
Myunggi chokes a little in surprise, turns to him with annoyance now evident on his face. “You can’t blame me for losing all your money.” he bites out angrily, glowering. “All I did was give advice in my videos on what crypto to invest in. No one said you had to follow it.”
“I wouldn't have lost any money if you hadn't said to do it, you asshole.”
Myunggi just scoffs. “And? It’s your fault for listening. You invested in it of your own free will. All of my videos had a disclaimer to form your own thoughts and make your own decisions, and it isn't my fault you decided to blindly trust someone you saw online. Are you really so stupid that you can’t even think for yourself?” He rattles on, getting closer to Namgyu with each biting word, eyes narrowed as he stares him down and his fists slowly curling into fists.
Namgyu sees red. Above all else, he fucking refuses to be compared to the mindless, easily manipulated scum like Min-su. He’s nowhere near as weak or pathetic as any of them. He’s better than them. He’s better than Myunggi.
It’s Namgyu who throws the first punch. It’s not a strong hit since he's not actually used to getting into physical fights like this, but myunggi’s head still turns with the force of it, which brings him quite a bit of pleasure. Unfortunately for namgyu, he didn't actually account for the fact that Myunggi might be able to fight back now that it’s just the two of them, and the next second he's on the floor with the taste of metal pooling in his mouth. It happened so fast he doesn’t think he even blinked.
He spits blood onto the clean tiles of the bathroom floor, tries to push himself up, but Myunggi doesn't let him. He shoves him back down with a kick aimed for his chest, knocking the breath out of him for a moment. He's on him the second after, taking advantage of his still weak and sprawled out form to push his body between his thighs, scrambling to wrap his hands around Namgyu’s throat. He gasps, squirms (pathetically, when did he get so pathetic?) beneath him, slaps at his back harshly in an attempt to get him to let go. He doesn’t.
He should be terrified, really. Of Myunggi. Scared shitless, with the way his fingers are clutching tightly at his neck, cutting off his airflow. He should be humiliated at the realization that he picked a fight he couldn’t win. But, he realizes, the only thing he can feel is excitement , heat curling low in the pit of his gut. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, the drugs still in his system, but something like a broken giggle bubbles out of him. Myunggi looks a little confused at his reaction, finally tries to get up, but this time it's Namgyu who won't let him. He brings his thighs up, wraps them around Myunggi’s waist and locks him in place, hands coming up to tangle painfully in the other man’s hair. Their crotches brush together, and this, Namgyu thinks, is what it feels like to be alive.
“What are you doing?” Myunggi chokes, trying and failing to get away, shoving at Namgyu’s thighs, who only wraps around him tighter.
“I dont know!” Namgyu laughs in return. He feels high off his mind right now, but that can't be right. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins, and other places, and Myunggi makes a sound when he feels something pressed against him.
“Are you seriously fucking—”
“Yeah,” he cuts off. “Yeah, I am. What are you gonna do about it?” He giggles.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows this is a strange, idiotic idea he’ll regret later. He can't bring himself to care much right now. He bucks his hips up, groaning lowly at the friction.
Myunggi makes another noise, looks far more disgusted and disturbed now. “What’s wrong with you?” He scowls, hands leaving his thighs to try and hold Namgyu’s hips down.
He doesn't really know either. It's hard for the other to get a hold on his hips like this, so he continues to roll them up as he pleases, relishing in the feeling of their clothed cocks dragging together, making soft grunts and moans. It feels good. It feels fucking great. He’s definitely high right now.
“You’re disgusting,” He gasps out when he doesn't get a reply. “How are you seriously hard from this?”
“Like you’re one to talk,” He shoots back, grinning, a little crazed. “You’re hard, too,” He emphasizes it with another buck of his hips, thighs wrapping around his waist a little tighter.
Myunggi makes a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan. “Quit it.” He hisses out, shoving one of Namgyu’s thighs off. His head hangs forward, soft hair obscuring his face a moment as he sucks in a harsh breath. “Damn it, I said quit it!” He shouts, but the effect is lessened by the way he rolls his hips down on him to meet Namgyu’s clumsy grinding.
Namgyu gasps, fisting his hand in his hair tighter. It feels way, way better when he does it like that. “Ah, doesn’t seem like you really want me too,” He laughs breathlessly, grinning ear to ear. “Your mouth is saying one thing, and your body another.”
“Shut up,” Myunggi grits his teeth. “Just shut up.” He grinds down against him again, hands coming to grip both his thighs now.
His head bows forward again, this time burying his face into Namgyu’s neck, lips next to his ear. It makes Namgyu groan a little, thighs squirming in his grasp a little. Huh. It’s a little harder to move his legs now. Nice.
“You’re,” Myunggi gasps out right in his ear. “So. Damn. Annoying.” He punctates each word with a sharp roll of his hips, grinding against him harshly.
“Hnn..!” The sound he makes is far more pathetic and embarrassing than he’d like it to be, and the pleasure is nearly overwhelming. It feels so much more intense than it would usually be, and he can’t tell if it’s because he hasn’t been with someone in months, or if it’s the drugs heightening the sensations. Maybe both.
“Shut up.” Myunggi mumbles, releasing one of his thighs so he can snake a hand up to clamp over his mouth. Namgyu is half tempted to bite him, so he does.
“Ow!” Myunggi gasps sharply, ripping it away immediately and shaking it quickly as if it’ll alieve the pain. There’s a bit of red painting the bite mark he left on him. Myunggi glares at him.
Namgyu smirks.
He subsequently gets punched in the face for the face in it; now they’re both bleeding, and Namgyu licks his split lip. Any other day he’d be pissed as hell, but today he’s just…gleeful? It has to be the leftover high of the drugs, or the lingering adrenaline from the game, but definitely not Myunggi. He refuses to even acknowledge that as a possibility.
For a moment, they just stare at each other, a little hesitant. What they're doing seems to be actually kicking in for both of them, and they’re unsure if they should really do this, if they should keep going. Well, Namgyu’s always been rash, erratic. So he barely thinks twice when he raises up a bit again, wiggles them as best he can to grind against the other. It's apparently all Myunggi needs, too, because he groans and immediately rolls his hips down, relishing in the friction it provides. His hands are back on his thighs.
Namgyu’s hands slip from his fluffy hair a bit, tugging at the strands painfully, until he grasps onto his shoulders. “Ah, fuck,” the groan slips past his lips like it was punched out of him.
Myunggi grunts in return, uses the grip he has on his legs to hitch one thigh up. Shockingly, Namgyu is somewhat flexible, and Myunggi harshly guides him to rest his legs closer to his back rather than his waist. Like this, he has more space, and they groan in sync at the next hard roll of Myunggi’s hips.
It’s good, he tells himself once again. It feels really fucking good. And also far too intimate, so Namgyu digs the heel of his foot into his lower back, and watches with delight as his face twists into a grimace. In retaliation, Myunggi gets one of his hands around his throat again and squeezes in warning.
Namgyu isn't afraid, though, so he presses his heel harder against him, all while still rocking his hips up with a little more desperation than he’d care to admit. Myunggi actually gasps in pain this time, squirming above him. He looks visibly annoyed again, and he uses his free hand to reach back and shove Namgyu’s leg away from his back. He slips it down to press it down against his inner thigh, pinning it to the floor. He ruts against him again, and Namgyu’s eyes roll up a little as Myunggi’s crotch grinds perfectly against his own.
“Shit,” Namgyu gasps, and he can't remember ever being this vocal.
“Hold on,” Myunggi mumbles back. “Hold on, hold on.” He squirms, adjusts a little, breathing shakily.
He’s in between Namgyu’s spread legs, a hand pinning one thigh down, hovering above the upper thigh of Namgyu’s other leg as he grinds down against him. The position is awkward, would look stupid to anyone else from an outside perspective, but it’s hard to focus on that when it just feels mind-blowingly good. It’s painfully obvious neither of them have gotten laid in a long, long time.
Myunggi sets up a rhythm from there, seeming to have found the position he's satisfied with, and ruts his still clothed crotch against Namgyu’s. They’re both fully hard at this point, straining against the teal fabric and even leaking through it ever so slightly
Their grunts and moans fill the room, accompanied with the sound of their heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric as they move against each other.
Namgyu’s stomach flutters and twists pleasantly as Myunggi grinds down on him particularly long, and he knows he's close. He squirms a little, tries to push his upper body up so that he can be face to face with the other man.
He smiles, but it's not a nice one. “Did you do this with her, too?” he can't help but tease. He knows that whoever the girl he was with earlier, it has to be a sensitive topic, and he's proven right when Myunggi growls lowly. “Hmm? Did you?”
Myunggi raises a hand, and he grins as he readies himself for the impending punch. But instead of a punch, he tangles his hand in long hair and tugs hard. It startles a gasp out of him, scalp burning painfully; he pulls so hard it hurts, that he thinks he may have even pulled a few strands of his hair out, and then his entire body tenses and his muscles contract and he comes so hard his mind completely blanks for a moment.
Myunggi pauses, gapes at him in shock. He lets go of his hair. He’s laying back on the floor now, vision coming back to him after a moment, and bones feeling like mush and a pleasant buzz humming throughout him as he basks in it. He realizes now that his boxers are uncomfortably wet, stained with his come, and it's starting to get his pants damp, too. He wrinkles his nose with distaste. He needs to clean up. He tries to push his spent body to move and get up, but Myunggi presses him back to the ground quickly.
“Where are you going?” he asks, a little confused, and definitely annoyed.
“What do you mean?” Namgyu gives him a blank look. It’s not like he’s a selfless lover—he has zero intentions of returning the favor, has no reason to. Myunggi seems to realize this too, if the way his face twists and his eyebrows furrow is any indicator.
“What do you mean,” he says back slowly. “I haven’t come yet.”
He blinks back innocently. “So? You got a left hand.” he makes another move to get up, and gasps as Myunggi shoves him down again, harder this time.
His head knocks painfully against the tiled floor of the bathroom, a dull ache pounding in the back of his head before it blossoms into full on, throbbing pain. He grits his teeth, shoots him a glare, feeling a little woozy as he weakly props himself up on his elbows.
“Hey, you—“ he starts, only to be cut off as myunggi grabs one of his slender thighs.
Myunggi gazes down at him with a thoughtful expression, quirking a brow as he adjusts his grip on his thigh to hold it a bit tighter. Slowly, hesitantly, his hand slips to his calf and begins to push Namgyu’s leg up. He gets more confident when Namgyu doesn’t outwardly react besides a murmured curse laced with irritation, and quickly shoves his leg up so his knee rests by his shoulder. A gasp startles out of him as his leg is forced to stretch in a way he hasn’t made it before, squirming uncomfortably. He’s not that flexible, and the position is straining on his muscles. Myunggi doesn’t seem put off or concerned by his reaction, instead slipping between the space he’s provided for himself and rutting down against his now soft cock so hard it feels like another form of violence. Namgyu chokes, body tensing at the feeling, writhing beneath him. It’s too much too soon, it hurts , the harsh fabric of his own tracksuit pants being forced to rub against his spent member painful.
“Chill—“ He manages to bite out, finally reaching out to shove at his chest a bit. “Hey, come on—“
“Shush,” Myunggi mumbles back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, low groans slipping past his lips as he grinds even harder down against him.
The complete and utter lack of care for his comfort is, unfortunately, kind of fucking hot. He’s still soft and spent from his previous orgasm, but his cock gives a little twitch of interest.
He fists his hand in Myunggi’s tracksuit, gritting his teeth and blinking back tears that prick at the corner of his eyes as keeps rutting their groins together. The fabric feels as if it’s literally rubbing him raw, and that’s enough to break through the haze of pleasure and lust.
“Seriously, it hurts!” he finally snaps, shoving at his chest again.
Myunggi stumbles back on his knees again, scowls. “Don’t be a baby.” he frowns, slips back between his thighs. “It's only fair. Asshole.”
Rather than continuing to dry hump him, his thumbs slip under the waistband of his own pants to tug them down along with his boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out. Namgyu’s eyes zero in on it immediately, far too focused on the sight to even be embarrassed by how he’s acting.
He’s an angry red at the tip, leaking a bit of precum, and he reaches over to pull namgyu out of his pants, too. Namgyu’s gotten back to half hardness at this point, so there’s that. Myunggi wraps a hand around Namgyu first, thumb circling his tip and spreading the cum that’s accumulated there. Namgyu hisses between his teeth, bucking up into his touch despite himself. Myunggi drags his thumb down to run along one of his veins before bringing it back up, flicking his wrist a certain way that makes Namgyu’s toes curl and his nails dig into his skin. He carefully strokes him back to full hardness, releases him, only to shove forward to press their cocks together. He wraps his hand around both of them now, and it’s easier to see the difference between them now. Myunggi is bigger; longer, not by much, but he’s much thicker. Namgyu pants weakly as Myunggi gazes down at them, worrying at his bottom lip.
“Hm,” He says.
“Shut the fuck up.” Namgyu bites out immediately.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“I could hear you thinking.”
Myunggi rolls his eyes, but there’s a small, self satisfied smirk on his face. Namgyu has half a mind to tell him off, and he opens his mouth to do so, but then Myunggi drags his hand up slowly, stroking them together, and Namgyu’s head lolls back as he barely muffles a whimper. He's still a little sensitive from his previous orgasm, but he bucks up into his fist anyway quickly, groaning in protest when Myunggi presses his free hand down on his hip to keep him down.
“Don’t be greedy.” Myunggi hums.
“Oh, like you’re one to fucking talk about greed—“
Myunggi pulls his hand away, then spits on his palm, before he wraps it around them again and starts stroking fast. And yeah, shit, that feels way fucking better than before.
“Aah,” He gasps. “Ah, ah, ah,” he squirms beneath him, trying to buck his hips up even though he won’t let him.
Myunggi is panting heavily, moaning too, his own hips rutting up into his fist as he strokes them in tide, brings his hand up and down their shafts, digs his thumb into their slits—Namgyu’s first and then his own—and rubs his thumb along the underside of their heads. Namgyu thinks he should be trying to hurt him, or something, remind Myunggi that they’re enemies and he hates him and all that, but all he can manage is to spread his legs for him shamelessly and let whimper after whimper slip from his lips freely as pleasure washes over him.
He slips a hand under his jacket, under his shirt, to pinch at a nipple meanly. It makes Namgyu gasp so he does it again and again until he’s bucking his hips against him. He moves his hand up a bit to press his palm flat against his nipple, grinds it down furiously like he’s trying to rub it away. Namgyu, honest to god, mewls.
“Slut.” Myunggi mumbles under his breath, does it again, again, again.
Namgyu, who stubbornly refuses to just lie and take it, shoots up to squirm closer, wrapping his arms around his back. He's halfway in his lap now, and he buries his face in his neck. He presses a kiss along the hollow of his pale throat, and then a harder one, and then sinks his teeth into his flesh over and over until the smooth canvas of his skin has been littered with red marks and quickly forming bruises. They’ll be hard to hide. Namgyu finds he doesn’t really care right now. Myunggi groans lowly, tries to nudge him away at first with his shoulder, before giving up and tilting his head back to give him more space.
He lets go of his abused nipple to tweak the ignored one, twisting it between his fingers and pulling. He pinches it hard, before letting his hand slip out from his shirt to wrap around the nape of his neck instead. He hesitates for only a moment, hand stuttering on their cocks, before starting up again with a desperate ferocity as he finally moves forward to mash their mouths together
It’s more teeth than tongue at first, Namgyu sucking Myunggi’s lower lip in between his own and biting down hard enough to bleed. He laps at the fresh cut greedily as Myunggi groans into his mouth, licks his way inside. He's never kissed someone like this before, but he likes the way their tongues rub together, full-on whines when Myunggi sucks on his tongue.
They pull away to gasp for air, Myunggi’s eyes half lidded and a little dazed. He moves his hand from his neck to hair, and Namgyu knows what he’s gonna do before he even does it. At the feeling of his scalp sharply stinging, he comes all over the others fist, white spurting out insistently. Myunggi curses under his breath, muffling a groan by biting down on the juncture of his shoulder as he spills soon after.
They stay like that for a minute, panting, sticky and sweaty and disgusting, before Myunggi shoves him off his lap. He shakily stands, legs feeling weak and like jelly. He grimaces as he carefully pulls his now soiled boxers and tracksuit pants back up, and doesn't look at him as he washes his hands.
“This didn’t happen,” he tells him sharply, the only thing Namgyu gets before he swiftly exits the bathroom.
Namgyu doesn’t bother to get up or clean himself, just lays back on the ground lazily, half lidded eyes gazing at the ceiling. He nearly laughs at the statement, already thinking up a way as to how to get this exact scenario to happen again. He pauses for a moment, suddenly realizing something. His hands are shaking. Badly.
Ah.
He wasn’t high at all.