Work Text:
After double-checking that the security system had been successfully disabled, Mingi set the sensor aside and, with practised ease, pulled himself up onto the ledge, climbing steadily a few floors up to the top one. The building was well-protected against casual intruders, but not against someone who knew exactly what they were doing. If his observations were correct, aside from the main entrance, this was the only way in. Mingi quickly dealt with the mechanism and unlocked the window. A piece of cake. Favourite pastime. In his opinion, there was no better feeling than doing this in broad daylight, right under everyone’s noses. Of course, not counting the fact that the building was secluded far outside the city.
The first thing to enter the room was the shadow, cast by the bright midday sun—then he followed. Everything had been well planned: the inhabitants of the headquarters—lured away on a fake mission; the building’s layout—meticulously studied and memorised. All that was left—calmly walk down the corridor, rummage through the archive, find the folder containing the documents that he was hired to get, and leave just as freely. These kinds of forays were like a stroll in the park for him. But why, then, the tingling sensation of something being off suddenly appeared?
Mingi realised what it was exactly after hearing the click from the other side of the room. He knew that sound all too well—the cocking of a pistol. Heart instantly sank, and gaze landed on the figure sitting at the desk. Mingi's body braced for a quick dodge. But to his surprise and relief, the gun in the other person’s hands was half-disassembled. Moreover, the man cleaning it was nodding his head to the music playing in headphones, completely unaware of someone’s presence. However, this blissful ignorance was short-lived, and the calm expression on the man’s face quickly turned to alertness as his peripheral vision caught the movement of papers on the desk fluttering in the wind. The next second, Mingi, still frozen by the window, was met with a tense and slightly irritated gaze. The kind of gaze you’d reasonably give to a stranger who had infiltrated secure headquarters in broad daylight. And, oh no, Mingi knew exactly who those eyes belonged to. Better than he should have known someone he’d never been introduced to, but that was a part of his job: to have extensive knowledge about people while remaining in the shadows. And that, of course, was the only reason Mingi was curious about him. Jeong Yunho.
Mingi had personally watched the van drive away just minutes earlier, and there was no doubt that the base supposed to be empty at this moment. He knew for a fact that the team whose territory he had invaded always went on missions with their full roster. Who could have guessed that today would be different? What a blunder. A simple task that was meant to take a minimal amount of time and effort had suddenly become anything but. To make matters worse, he hadn’t brought any extra gear today: no weapons, no protection. Jeong, damn him, Yunho. What a coincidence! It was surprising to see him so casual. As if he’d just woken up and gotten straight to work. Instead of the usual black uniform, which concealed everything, including half his face, the other was wearing light grey tracksuit bottoms and a loose white T-shirt. Hair, slightly damp and tousled as if he’d just towel-dried it, revealed part of the forehead. It would have been easy to mistake him for someone else, as Mingi had never seen the mercenary off-duty before, but he could have sworn he’d recognise those eyes anywhere.
The silent standoff between them didn’t last long. The disassembled pistol still gleamed in Yunho’s hands, and Mingi mentally noted that his luck today was as good as it was bad. Each of them had only a few seconds to think. Mingi knew it wouldn’t be a problem for him to jump back out the window and just disappear… But he wouldn’t be himself choosing to run now. Certainly not from Yunho. The other’s gaze fell on the table in the middle of the room, and following his line of sight, Mingi caught the glint of a blade. He moved first, but Yunho had the advantage of distance, allowing him to grab the handle a fraction of a second earlier. Mingi barely managed to dodge as the blade swung towards him immediately. However, there was not enough space to retreat and counterattack—he had to parry the confident strikes of the other's hand, which wielded the ominously glinting knife. Items flew off the furniture in their path, making it even harder to move in the already cramped room. Yunho clearly knew how to handle a weapon, and in any other situation, Mingi might have found it devilishly attractive, but right now, the threat to his well-being seemed too serious to get distracted by something like that. Another attempt to sweep Yunho off his feet failed, and realising he couldn’t keep this up for long, Mingi decided to take a risky move—the only way out he could see. He practically offered himself up to the knife, letting Yunho get as close as possible. The blade touched his skin in the same instant, and for a moment, it seemed like Mingi had messed up and been wounded. But it was just a ghostly touch, slicing through the fabric of his shirt without breaking the skin. A few more millimetres, and it would have cut into his stomach. The thought sent a shiver down the spine. Either way, the bait worked, and Mingi took advantage of the position: grabbing Yunho’s wrist firmly, twisting it, and pinned the other man against the nearest wall. With Yunho’s dominant arm locked behind his back and the other pressed against the wall, Mingi pinned Yunho's body tightly against him. Chest heaved heavily—Yunho’s did the same. Finally, there was a chance to catch the breath.
"Well, hello there. Long time no see," Mingi said, his tone far too familiar for someone who couldn’t even be called an acquaintance. They had crossed paths multiple times, but never under circumstances like these; knew each other’s combat styles well, but had never exchanged more than a few words.
"You’re getting bolder and bolder."
"Just being myself," Mingi smirked. He didn’t hope for the opponent to calm down so easily. So, as expected, Yunho jerked a couple of times, trying to break free, but Mingi held firm. To be honest, Mingi would have confidently said that Yunho outmatched him in speed and had every advantage in this fight, so the outcome felt like nothing short of luck. Just as he was about to wrench the knife from Yunho’s hand, he finally noticed the bandage wrapped around it. The gauze was starting to bleed slightly. So that was it. The injury explained not only how the fight had ended so favourably but also, likely, why Yunho had stayed behind instead of leaving with the others. What Mingi did next was dirty. He was no gentlemen—those in their line of work didn’t live long. Willing to secure the advantage, he pressed fingers into the wound, forcing Yunho to loosen his grip.
"Oops, my bad."
Yunho let out a pained groan, finally releasing the weapon, but Mingi made another mistake by letting his guard down too soon. The next moment, a sharp kick to his ankle was felt, throwing him off balance and sending tumbling backward. All Mingi could do was drag Yunho down with him. Their bodies crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Yunho lunged toward the weapon, but Mingi still had a firm grip on the other’s arm and yanked it back. The pain must have been intense because Yunho let out a muffled cry, though he didn’t stop struggling toward the knife, forcing Mingi to press harder on the wound. The struggle and endless rolling on the floor continued until Mingi finally managed to pin Yunho beneath him—legs locking around the other man’s with trained precision. Of course, he didn’t expect Yunho to give up even now, so before the other could regain control, Mingi snatched the knife from the floor. Catching the glint of realisation in Yunho’s eyes, he immediately swung the blade. To Mingi’s surprise, Yunho didn’t even flinch—let alone try to dodge. The blade stopped just short of his throat, teasing the skin. Touching, but not pressing.
"Awkward situation, don’t you think?"
Only now did Mingi feel a sting on his lip and, running tongue over it, tasted blood. It seemed Yunho had managed to land a solid elbow strike, something Mingi hadn’t even noticed in the heat of the struggle. A bloody, crazed grin spread across his face. Hope of catching even a flicker of fear in Yunho’s eyes was dashed though—they still burned with defiance. He wondered silently: if their positions were reversed, would Yunho have made the final move, leaving his body to twitch and go still forever? Mingi was almost certain he knew the answer, but the thought alone made the blood boil. Yunho was visibly struggling not to take deep breaths his body needed, avoiding letting his skin press further against the blade. Mingi smirked triumphantly. Even in this situation, Yunho didn’t lose composure. He stopped struggling, but there was no plea or regret in the other’s eyes. Mingi had maimed and killed countless times, and the knowledge that someone’s life was in his hands always went to his head. So, what did he intend to do now? The body beneath was full of strength and potential. Did he want to take all of that away? But take away from whom? The other's team? Mingi couldn’t care less about those bastards. The question was, did he want to leave himself without Yunho?
Who was Yunho to him? Absolutely no one and everything at the same time. An oxymoron only Mingi could understand. He smirked at the thought.
For as long as he could remember himself, Mingi had been a thief. What started as a life necessity had gradually become a source of pleasure. The stakes grew higher, the targets—more dangerous, and over time, he had to learn how to kill. The adrenaline of walking the edge was the strongest drug. Figuratively speaking, jumping out of the path of a speeding train at the last second—became his only joy in life. But even those sensations had started to fade, promising to leave nothing but emptiness any time soon. And when Mingi began to wonder if he’d even bother running from the inevitable next time—the first encounter with Yunho happened.
Targeting another high-profile mark, he never imagined he’d have competition. Seeing that dark figure at the safe before him had been so unexpected and… thrilling. The emotions from that fight felt like the first time all over again. Mingi could hardly have imagined meeting someone just as unhinged, someone who could stand against him for even a minute. Forgetting the reward, Mingi lived for that moment, chasing the stranger through the spacious, dark room of the mansion. What a disappointment it was when, a few minutes later, the sound of multiple footsteps approaching was heard from behind the wall. Mingi might have been crazy, but becoming a target for several combat-ready individuals wasn’t on his agenda for the evening. Weighing his options on the fly, he ran for the first time. Back then, Mingi didn’t yet know that playing with one particular life, risking his own, would soon become his favourite amusement. He quickly forgot about the failure, reassuring himself that a more challenging target won't be hard to find, and completely missed the moment when insane thoughts—insane for someone in his line of work—started creeping into his mind: the hope of another encounter. Before he could fully process it, the wish came true. As luck would have it, the newly formed group—one that stranger was in—had clashed with a powerful organisation in need of puppets in the East. And as luck would have it, Mingi was on the opposite side. Since then, they’d crossed paths more than once. And each time felt like the first for Mingi. How long had it been? Months? A year? At some point, it had turned into an obsession. Yunho embodied everything Mingi desired, though he hadn’t realised it until their first meeting. That unexpected fight had reignited a fading spark inside him, brighter than ever. What would Yunho say if he knew that sometimes Mingi showed up outside official missions—just because he missed the wild energy that surged through him whenever their gazes met? To Mingi’s great regret, Yunho was rarely alone—the chance to recreate their first encounter didn’t come easily. Body craved it like a drug, and he increasingly took reckless risks, trying to draw Yunho’s attention, to lure him away. And Yunho started taking the bait, chasing him like a dog after a cat. It seemed he’d developed a sixth sense for Mingi’s presence—finding him in places no one else would think to check. One might assume Yunho saw it as a necessity to eliminate the nuisance once and for all; maybe it was even an order from above. But that was all Mingi wanted. Countless clashes during missions, heated exchanges, and no real conversations. The circumstances were never right. And what could people like them even talk about? It was probably paranoia, but at some point, Mingi wondered: was there a chance Yunho got the same thrill from all this as he did?
Mingi vividly remembered that one time he’d found out where and when Yunho’s team would be and left the house with the sole purpose of seeing him again. The comparison might sound incredibly foolish, but he went there as if on a real date—something Mingi had never had. An excitement spread through the body, and a smile played on his lips. When the door of the familiar van finally opened, he immediately recognised the tall figure among the group. Yunho was talking to one of his teammates—eyes smiling, quiet laughs escaping. Genuine laughs, as if from another world where life wasn’t a constant battle for survival. Mingi felt something in his heart he’d never felt before—hadn’t even known that organ was capable of such a thing. That moment, Mingi wanted nothing more than to eliminate everyone who had the privilege of being so close to Yunho, who could evoke such emotions in him. Mingi felt every nerve in his body tense, fist clenching… But before he could sink into the all-consuming darkness of hatred, those familiar eyes locked onto his brazenly exposed figure, instantly turning as cold as ice. It wasn’t hard to notice that everyone else ceased to exist for Yunho at that moment, and the realisation truly struck Mingi. Yes, Yunho might smile at his colleagues—friends if you want to call them—but that piercing, heavy gaze was reserved solely for him. No one could convince Mingi anymore that there wasn’t a special connection between them, one that defied definition. Or was he just completely losing his mind?
"So, you’re just going to give up? Where’s all that fire you used to have?"
Perhaps this was the first time Mingi had been this close to Yunho, having stumbled upon the other when he wasn’t even looking for him. For once, Yunho’s face wasn’t hidden behind a mask, nor was his body weighed down by layers of uniform. Mingi had his photos in the meticulously compiled dossier, but up close, everything felt different. Beautiful he was—not in a doll-like way, but in the way a real, living young man could be: with all his imperfections that somehow came together to form a breathtaking image, that made Mingi’s insides tremble. It would have been easy to believe he’d mistaken Yunho for an ordinary civilian, but then the memory of how skillfully the other had handled the weapon just moments ago flashed before his eyes, and the illusion vanished. Usually, one look from Mingi was enough to disarm an opponent mentally, to plunge them into despair and make them beg for mercy. But in Yunho’s eyes, he saw everything but fear. And the ultimate realisation hit—he hadn't been wrong about Yunho all this time.
"If I were you, I’d leave now," Yunho’s voice was so satisfying to hear finally, even if it dripped with hostility. "Everyone will come running at the noise."
"Bluffing! You know perfectly well no one is here," Mingi drawled smugly, relishing Yunho’s reaction. A flicker of understanding passed through the other’s eyes.
Mingi had a clear mission: find the client’s documents, stolen by the rival team for future blackmail. The pay was good—he didn’t care about the rest. Despite the slight deviation from the plan, it was too early to give up. Knocking out the obstacle and finishing the job seemed like the logical move. But none of it mattered anymore the moment he realised who fate had brought him to. This was a gift of fate—nothing less. And Mingi had no idea what he’d done to deserve it.
Yunho did not respond—just stared back, still allowing himself only shallow breaths. Was he awaiting his doom or the first chance to break free? Who was this fearless Yunho, really? With the right connections, digging up the necessary information hadn’t been hard. A boy from a loving family, full of promise, born in the wrong place at the wrong times. The world was going mad, and with it, a once-thriving country had become a battleground for warring factions. No one believed in salvation anymore; the only option was to pick a side and survive, which Yunho had done. Having lost everything overnight, he found a new family in an underground organisation, choosing to become part of the very world that had shattered his life. Even in these dark times, he preferred to act cleanly, taking lives only of the worst scum. Mingi was scum. Did Yunho know that? Did he know Mingi had grown up in this environment—couldn’t imagine life outside of it; that he now committed crimes not out of necessity but because he got high on living on the edge? And unlike Yunho, Mingi had always been alone, with nothing to lose but his own life. So why, living like this, was he still breathing? It was a question Mingi asked himself waking up and going back to sleep every fucking day.
Did Yunho even know his name?
Mingi leaned in closer, shadow completely enveloping the other. The tips of his overgrown hair brushed against Yunho’s forehead.
"Why?"
Yunho’s eyes automatically scanned Mingi’s face, brows lifting slightly in confusion.
"What?"
"Why didn’t you shoot me that time?" Mingi asked slowly, gaze fixed on Yunho’s face. What he read there was clear—Yunho hadn’t been prepared for that question.
That time , Mingi had been sure he was alone in the building and was about to leave when voices and the sound of multiple footsteps echoed from the corridor—the only exit he knew.
"The safe’s in the end of the hall!
All Mingi could do was slip into one of the open rooms and hide in a dark corner. Through the sliver of light from the door, he saw figures rushing past, heading for the target. But who better than him to know what awaited them there?
"It’s empty!"
"What do you mean?"
"Someone was here before us."
"How is that possible?! The leak only came through an hour ago!"
"What are you talking about, Wooyoung? You saw someone’s shadow in the window a few minutes ago? How could you think it was one of us when we just got here?! We’ll talk about it later! Everyone, search the building now—we didn’t run into anyone at the entrance, so they’re still here!"
Mingi swallowed and held his breath. Somehow, he had no doubt that only a miracle could save him now. Judging by the sounds, the team had spread out, and all he could do was try to slip away unnoticed. Silently stepping into the corridor, he’d only taken a few steps when the click of a gun being cocked to his side was heard. Mingi turned to see none other than Yunho. No mistake. Cornered, Mingi stared blankly down the barrel of the gun, glinting faintly in the streetlight coming from the outside, and thought that he’d never been so close to death—he both sought and fled from. And no, in that moment, he didn’t regret any of the life choices, nor did he feel fear. The only thing he thought about was how much he’d miss these encounters. He’d miss Yunho. All Mingi managed to do—look straight into those dark eyes and flash his shameless grin, as if to say he accepted defeat. And then… A fraction of a second before the trigger was pulled, Yunho shifted the angle. The gunshot rang out. It took Mingi a moment to realise the bullet had embedded itself in the wall, not his skull. Apparently this wasn’t the end yet. Taking a deep breath, Mingi turned and bolted for the exit. Running out of the building, while shouts of the others chasing after him could be heard, Mingi thought he’d never felt more alive. Had it been a blunder from Yunho’s side? No way. He’d believe anything but that. What had driven Yunho in that moment was the greatest mystery. Mingi loved mysteries, but this one was extremely hard to solve. He felt the answer was right there, but kept slipping away. Or maybe… with that act, Yunho had actually added the missing piece to the puzzle?
"You’d have made a name for yourself and done the world a huge favour."
"Everyone makes mistakes," Yunho replied calmly a few seconds later, somewhat composed. Mingi might have believed him if only Yunho hadn’t averted his gaze, giving himself away completely.
"Even you?" Mingi asked with an unmistakable smirk, all too aware of Yunho’s combat skills.
"I’d advise you to stop talking and finish me off while you have the chance. Otherwise, rest assured, I won’t miss next time."
Yunho’s defiance only egged Mingi on. And that teasing "next time" sent a pleasant burn through his chest. Did Yunho see through him? Did he somehow know Mingi had no intention of killing him now, or was it the bravado of a man ready to accept his destiny? Instead of answering, Mingi moved the knife away from Yunho’s throat—so quickly that the man beneath him didn’t even have time to process it—placed it on the floor, and kicked under the sofa. Yunho finally took a deep breath and looked up, utterly bewildered. Wow. Had he really thought it would end like this? Had he been ready to die by Mingi’s hand? It felt somewhat familiar.
"Finish you off?" Mingi echoed in mock surprise. "That’s the last thing I’d want to do with you," he said, leaning even closer, face inches away from Yunho’s. The latest stared back, breathing heavily, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.
"You are insane," Yunho concluded, apparently unable to read anything coherent in Mingi’s twisted grin. His eyes burned, and it would have been easy to mistake it for hatred toward the man who’d attacked him. But if life in the criminal underworld taught you anything, it was how to read people.
"Tell me something new."
Yunho paused, then frowned and said out of nowhere: "If I’m right, and you’re unarmed, that’s your cock pressing into me."
Mingi couldn't hold back a laugh.
"Seems like this doesn’t bother you much. Not the first time in this kind of situation, huh?" Mingi asked with a probing tone, deliberately pressing harder against Yunho’s groin. Yunho tensed his entire body, letting out a heavy breath, eyes noticeably darkening.
The tension between them was palpable, almost tangible. You might think it was disdain, rivalry? Mingi would only smirk and shake his head. Not that simple. Would you believe if he said he’d known for some time that something like this would happen eventually? In his mind, he’d already mapped out two possible scenarios. According to the first one, his cold corpse, unwanted even by the earth, would have long since been rotting in some abandoned basement... But he was alive, and the way blood boiled at the sight of Yunho beneath him was proof of that. What had been happening between them since the first encounter could only be described as a wild game. Yunho could have won long ago, but he hadn’t. Or maybe there couldn’t be just one winner?
Loosening his grip on Yunho’s hands for just a second, Mingi was fully prepared for what would happen next. Every muscle in Yunho’s body tensed, and he moved sharply, pinning the other beneath him. Mingi’s smile revealed his teeth, and he chuckled. If Yunho was puzzled by this reaction, he didn’t show it. Ininjured hand pressed against Mingi’s chest, pinning firmly to the floor.
"Awkward situation, don’t you think?" Yunho repeated Mingi’s earlier words, as his other hand began to roam over immobilized body, searching just in case. Mingi watched his actions with unconcealed interest. When Yunho’s hand reached one of the pockets of his jeans, Mingi couldn’t resist quipping:
"Go deeper, I want to introduce you to someone."
Yunho was about to pull his hand away in disgust when fingers caught on an object. He hurriedly pulled it out. In Yunho'd hand was something resembling… a pack of condoms.
"Oops, how embarrassing" Mingi said from below, his smile never fading.
"Are you kidding me?" Yunho’s voice rose noticeably, and he stared at the item in his hand in disbelief. Mingi could swear he saw a faint blush on the other's cheeks. The situation was clearly shifting from tense to comical. "So you came here without a weapon, but with... this ?"
"Doesn’t it look like one to you?" Mingi replied calmly, as if exchanging jokes with an old friend rather than someone on the opposite side of the barricades.
"I’ve known for a while that you’re not all there, but to this extent... What were you even planning on doing?" Yunho tossed the pack onto Mingi’s chest in exasperation.
The atmosphere had noticeably lightened, as if they hadn’t been fighting for their lives just minutes ago.
"Believe me, if I’d known you’d be here, I’d have brought a bottle of wine too. What’s your favorite?" Yunho just raised an eyebrow at this playful comment, which didn’t align with the image of Mingi he’d built in his mind. "It just so happens that after missions, I like to, let’s say, relieve some tension. You should understand," Yunho only grimaced. "But, you know, it can be done in the course of it too. The fact that we’re here alone can’t be called anything but a pleasant coincidence. And I think your ass will thank me for this," he nodded toward the condoms, "Safety first."
How amusing it must have been to hear that from someone like Mingi.
"And what are you implying? You think I’d let you have me?" Yunho shook off his earlier embarrassment, looking at Mingi with defiance.
"How could you think that? I’m not implying, I’m stating," Mingi said, effortlessly pushing Yunho’s hand away and flipping him so that the other's cheek was now pressed into the sofa. Yunho exhaled sharply, and for a split second, the mask of confidence slipped from his face. "If you prefer being on top, we can work something out later, but it looks like today we’re playing by my rules."
Yunho didn’t stop trying to break free.
"That’s right, don’t give up. I adore your fiery temper."
"You are a psycho," Yunho snapped, throwing a glare over his shoulder, but the confidence in his voice started to fade.
"Not arguing. But what does that make you ? Getting off on losing control like some desperate slut."
"Are you even hearing yourself? Sounds like you’ve confused me with one of your flings."
"You’re saying that’s not the case?" Mingi’s hand slipped between the couch and Yunho’s groin, pressing firmly with his palm. "Because I’ve got some intel that says otherwise."
Yunho gasped, trying to pull away, but only ended up pressing harder back against Mingi’s.
"I wonder if your loser mates know about this side of you? Have you ever let any of them see you in this state?"
Yunho pretended the words didn’t affect him, but it was just that—pretending. Mingi didn’t miss how Yunho’s eyes darkened at the rough treatment, how his Adam’s apple bobbed.
"Hey, are there any cameras here? I wouldn’t mind a recording. Will rewatch it every night, I promise."
"Keep dreaming."
"Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just have to savor every moment. Do you prefer me screwing you on the floor, or do you want all the comforts?"
Mingi didn’t miss how Yunho’s cock twitched in his trousers at the question, still trapped under Mingi’s palm. Pride kept Yunho from answering, and he turned his face away, hiding it but exposing reddened ears instead. Mingi smirked triumphantly and quickly helped Yunho up, only to push him onto the couch the next moment. Yunho braced his hands against the wall, chest falling against the backrest. Mingi was about to pull up Yunho’s T-shirt, but the other beat him to it, doing it himself.
"And all that fuss before for nothing," Mingi teased, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Oh, just shut up."
It seemed Yunho had finally reached the point where he could no longer remain indifferent or play hard to get. As he fumbled with the ties on his trackies, Mingi, not wasting any time, pulled off his own shirt, relishing the sight of Yunho impatiently shedding the rest of his clothes. Tossing aside underwear, Yunho moved sharply to the side, but Mingi didn’t let him get far, quickly grabbing the base of the other’s neck and pressing his face into the armrest. Yunho cursed loudly in surprise, which only made Mingi’s already interested cock twitch harder.
"What now?"
"Open the top drawer," Yunho managed to say, breathing heavily. Mingi raised an eyebrow but, without releasing Yunho—who wasn’t resisting anyway—obeyed. In the cluttered drawer, his eyes landed on a half-empty bottle of lube. Ah, so that’s it.
"Well, you’re not as much of a saint as I thought. Do you really let one of those pushovers fuck you? No wonder I caught your attention. The competition must be pathetic."
"It’s hard not to notice someone who’s stalking you," Yunho shot back, still sharp even in his current position.
"I prefer to call it tactical observation."
"With the goal of jerking off to me later at night?"
"Don’t tell me you haven’t done the same. I wouldn’t believe anyway," Mingi said, pressing his still-clothed groin against Yunho’s ass, teasing. Yunho, no longer hiding his arousal, arched his back. Mingi left him in that position, stepping back slightly. The jingling of a belt buckle caught Yunho’s attention, and he glanced at the belt in Mingi’s hands. Noticing the interest in the other’s dark eyes, Mingi smirked:
"On some other occasion. I don’t think we have much time now," but as soon as Yunho looked away, a loud smack echoed through the room. Yunho gasped in surprise, biting his lip. The sting on the buttock made him rise slightly on his elbows, looking back in anticipation. Mingi barely held back from repeating the action but remembered his own words and tossed the belt aside.
"Have to admit, you continue to surprise me."
Without waiting for a response, Mingi hurriedly pulled off his jeans and moved closer to Yunho’s body, which was obediently waiting in the position Mingi had left him in. The skin under his fingers felt incredibly pleasant to the touch; gaze followed the muscles on Yunho’s well-trained back, rolling with every movement. The other’s body was dotted with bruises of various sizes and freshness, a reminder of the life he led. This sight was familiar to Mingi—it was the same one he saw in the mirror every day. He desperately wanted to explore every inch of this body, but the circumstances, and Yunho himself, urged to hurry. Gripping Yunho’s firm buttocks, Mingi spread them slightly, enjoying the arousing view. Yunho buried his face in the armrest, embarrassed, but at the same time arched back even more. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Yunho was about to make a comment, but then a cool touch to his entrance was felt. Yunho mentally prepared for rough handling, maybe even for Mingi to take him without any preparation, but instead—a single finger carefully entered him, caressing the walls; a second one followed after a while. The preparation became a real trial for Yunho. Not because of any discomfort—quite the opposite. The way Mingi’s lips gently brushed against his spine while the fingers continued their work almost made Yunho doubt this was the same man who had held a knife to his throat just minutes ago. But just as Yunho began to relax, he felt a sharp bite on the back of his neck, a reminder that Mingi hadn’t stopped playing with him for a second. Yunho practically melted under these contrasting actions. When fingers suddenly brushed against his prostate, Yunho couldn’t hide the intense reaction, writhing under Mingi’s hands. The fingers continued to stroke his walls, but the expected touch to that sensitive spot didn’t come again. Yunho began to move himself back, searching for that pleasurable sensation, but Mingi seemed to know exactly what he was doing, deliberately avoiding that spot, chuckling softly.
"Come on already," Yunho finally snapped at one point.
"Where’s all this impatience coming from? We don’t want you to get hurt, do we?" Mingi said, contradicting his words with the squeeze on Yunho’s injured hand, which was gripping the upholstery. Before Yunho could make a sound of pain, Mingi’s fingers finally brushed against his prostate, turning gasp into a moan.
"Don’t flatter yourself," Yunho shot back. "I’m sure your cock’s so small I won’t even feel it."
Mingi knew full well that wasn’t the case, so the words didn’t bother at all. Yunho might have suspected the same, feeling Mingi’s hard length pressing against his thigh, but that didn’t stop him from taunting.
"Well, you asked for it," Mingi said, quickly pulling out his fingers. Yunho instinctively pushed his hips back, but Mingi stopped him, holding firmly. After quickly putting on a condom and applying lube generously, Mingi returned his hands to the other’s hips and guided himself to Yunho’s entrance. After teasing a little and drawing out a few tantalizing sounds, he finally pushed inside.
"Fuck," Mingi muttered. Yunho took him so well that Mingi had to bite his lip. Once he was fully inside, Yunho impatiently reached back, grabbing the other by the shoulder and pulling him closer. Mingi obliged, one hand wrapping around Yunho’s throat, denying him any illusion of tenderness. His next thrust was sharp, drawing a loud moan from Yunho. Sure, Mingi’s interest in the other had been undeniable from the start, but only now, as it was really happening, did Mingi realise just how much he had wanted to possess Yunho. All of him: strong body and equally strong personality.
Leaving a few unrestrained kisses on Yunho’s neck and thrusting a few more times, Mingi suddenly pulled out, earning a sound of protest, only to flip Yunho onto his back.
"Don’t panic, I’m not going anywhere."
"What, already about to come and holding back with all your might?" Yunho quipped, earning a sharp slap on the ass.
"I’d love to shut you up right now, but don’t want to deprive myself of hearing your pleas," Mingi said, pushing one of Yunho’s legs to the side and pinning it against the back of the sofa.
"Don’t even count on it," Yunho’s words were cut off by a drawn-out moan as Mingi thrust back in.
Yunho lay beneath him, completely exposed in every sense. If this sight wasn’t the best thing Mingi had ever seen, it was definitely at the top of the list. The undeniable attractiveness of Yunho’s body fueled the fire inside, and the thought of how Yunho’s previously arrogant and stern expression had turned into one of complete oblivion only fanned the flames. Seeing the other’s brows furrowed, mouth constantly opening with unrestrained sharp exhales—and Mingi was ready to give all of himself to Yunho. The desire to voice everything he was feeling right now was overwhelming, but the right words eluded. What were the chances Yunho could read it all in his gaze?
Yunho’s cock was fully erect, the tip leaking, making his length slap against the taut stomach with wet sounds. Yunho was clearly trying to hold back his moans, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. At one point, he closed his eyes in desperation, making Mingi place a hand on his throat and lightly squeeze. The effect was exactly what Mingi had hoped for: Yunho’s eyes snapped open, pitch black. Instead of trying to push the hand away and get more air, Yunho grabbed Mingi’s side, urging him to move faster.
Staring into the endless depths of Yunho’s pupils, fixed on him, Mingi was ready to believe that even in these dark times they lived in, there was something more powerful than violence—even if, in his case, it bordered on it. Something that made blood boil, made him feel everything to the extreme. This had never happened to him before, and he doubted it could be prompted by anyone but Yunho. It all was more than just a need for release. Mingi knew full well he didn’t know how to feel affection, yes. But he could experience something, perhaps way stronger. Obsession. An obsession that made the entire world revolve around one person. He couldn’t offer anything more, but it seemed Yunho was willing to accept the terms. Finding someone who, for some weird reason, was interested in a misfit like him seemed unreal, and Mingi was going to do anything to preserve this connection.
"And yet," Mingi asked, slightly out of breath, suddenly returning to the unanswered question from before, "why?"
Apparently, Yunho right away understood what it was about, and bit his lip, clearly reluctant to answer. Mingi decided to slow down his trusts, almost stopping completely, and it had the desired effect.
"I don’t know," Yunho exhaled desperately. "Just couldn’t," he said, hiding his face in the crook of elbow, as if trying to bury the embarrassment, which was quite surprising given his current position. Was it true that Yunho didn’t know, or was he just unwilling to admit... That without this accidental game that had started between them, everything else would become completely meaningless. He never stopped hoping that they were on the same page with it. Mingi smiled understandingly, letting Yunho know that for him this answer was enough.
Yunho’s uninjured hand moved to his own cock, but he only managed a few strokes before Mingi pushed it away abruptly.
"I think I already told you we’re playing by my rules today."
Mingi’s fingers wrapped around Yunho’s length, moving in rhythm with his thrusts. All Yunho could do was grab Mingi’s neck, pulling him closer and practically tipping onto himself. Looking away from the blissful expression on Yunho’s face would have been a crime, and Mingi caught every fleeting emotion. Yunho seemed to have completely surrendered, pulling Mingi closer without hiding his intentions now. Mingi understood what he wanted but continued to tease, only brushing his breath against Yunho’s lips, though the desire to close the distance was overwhelming.
"Just tell me what you want, and I’ll think about whether you’ve earned it."
"For you to leave me alone," Yunho snapped, though his grip on Mingi’s neck didn’t loosen.
Mingi didn’t bother looking for a witty response, as his self-control was slipping, and finally covered Yunho’s lips with his own. Only then did Yunho finally allow himself to close eyes again. It wasn’t like a proper kiss—more like both of them were clinging to each other: with their fingers, lips, thoughts. Yunho had once again managed to make Mingi feel everything to the extreme. This time, without bullets or witnesses. He might have been in control of Yunho’s body, seeming like the one in charge, but the truth was, he had never felt more vulnerable. Mingi was alive because Yunho had allowed him. And thanks to Yunho, he felt more alive than ever before.
After a thrust at a new angle, Yunho dug his nails into Mingi’s skin and let out a ragged moan into his lips. Looked like it wouldn't take much to push Yunho over the edge, and Mingi knew there was no point in prolonging it all, as he was also at his limit. A few strokes of his hand, and Yunho’s cock pulsed in the palm, spilling between their bodies. Mingi desperately wanted to keep thrusting into sensitive, trembling Yunho, but—forced himself to pull out, tossing the condom on the floor and finishing himself off with his fist. White streaks landed on Yunho’s stomach, mixing with his own release. Barely managing to keep himself from collapsing onto Yunho, he leaned back against the couch. Catching his breath, Mingi gave in to the sensations, almost forgetting where he was.
The calm was shattered some minutes later when an unfamiliar sound broke the silence of the room. Lazily turning his gaze, Mingi saw Yunho reaching for his phone, which had been lying on the floor in a pile of clothes. Mingi had no desire to do anything about it.
"Yeah."
After a question from the other end, there was a pause. Yunho looked at Mingi with an unreadable expression, clearly thinking something over. Well-well, what are you going to do?
"Everything’s fine," Yunho finally replied, looking away. It wasn’t hard to guess who was calling, and Mingi could roughly imagine the information being relayed to Yunho. "Alright, waiting." With that, the call ended, and the room fell silent again. Mingi watched Yunho expectantly, not missing the chance to thoroughly admire Yunho’s body, still marked with evidence of what had just happened. He didn’t care what the other would do next. If Yunho decided to finally end his life or take him hostage until the others arrived—Mingi wouldn’t resist.
"What are you waiting for? Leave!"
Well, that was unexpected. Maybe he was a little disappointed. Mingi just smirked crookedly and lazily got up, starting to gather his things. Words seemed unnecessary, and he dressed in silence, occasionally throwing probing glances at Yunho. Yunho responded with the same silence, wiping the traces of their encounter from his body with the T-shirt. Just as Mingi approached the open window, Yunho finally spoke.
"So why did you come here, anyway," after a pause, he added, "Mingi?" Hearing his name from Yunho’s lips for the first time was so unfamiliar and sweet.
"It doesn’t matter anymore," Mingi replied calmly. And it really didn’t. He had no intention of finishing the mission. Failing a job for the first time in a long time, Mingi felt no regret. The upcoming confrontation with the crime boss who had hired him seemed like a small price to pay. "Let’s consider this a thank you for the excellent service."
Yunho rolled his eyes and sighed. He kept an eye on Mingi’s movements until the end, just in case he tried something.
"And don’t you dare show up here again," Yunho’s voice was cold, but Mingi could well hear through it. A smirk played on his lips once more. He looked into those dark eyes, which had become his entire world, and said, "I will dare," before slipping out the window.