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So like, objectively, Park Seonghwa is hot. Everyone knows this - it’s a fact of life, as undeniable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
Here’s the deal, though; it’s one thing to look at Seonghwa and bask in his hotness from afar, but it’s an entirely different world being up close and personal with him. And Song Mingi is, in fact, very up close and personal.
So up close and personal, that the entire audience is getting a front-row viewing to what may as well be Mingi’s Boner Show.
Whatever. He’s spent the better part of an entire song’s worth of choreography basically just flirting with Seonghwa, who, as previously established, is really fucking hot. Mingi is just a man, and Seonghwa is attractive - sue him.
It’s not like they’ve been practicing this choreo for weeks leading up to the fan meeting or anything, and he should be totally over the awkward hard-on phase of it by now. It’s not like this is even the first day of the fan meeting either, where it would maybe sorta make sense to get an adrenaline-boner. No.
Seonghwa grabbed his ass, front and center, while being watched by hundreds of their dedicated fans. Now that wasn’t what they had practiced - and honestly, at this rate, Mingi is finding it incredibly difficult to keep his mind off of his growing and very obvious erection beginning to strain against his tight leather pants. Troublemaker has never been what anyone would call “family-friendly”, but… damn.
Even more unfortunate for him is the next part of the choreography - standing face to face with Seonghwa, caressing him ever-so-sweetly, while staring right into his eyes.
Mingi thought that it was bad enough in practice - with no mics on, they were mere inches away with no physical obstruction to stop either of them from pressing even closer. They never did - it was just rehearsal for a performance, after all.
But in front of an entire audience, the room filled to the brim with eyes and cameras witnessing every little detail - he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on, just a little bit, being watched this closely. Especially with his… current predicament. And of course, he just has to play it up - for the fans, of course.
Mingi follows their practiced steps, his eyes meeting Seonghwa’s in an unspoken challenge, to which Seonghwa meets his gaze and quirks an eyebrow. Mingi closes the distance between them, his hips flush against Seonghwa’s thigh, and is all but certain that the other man can feel his hard-on pressing up against his leg, heavy and insistent. If the surprised look in Seonghwa’s eyes is anything to go by, he hadn’t been expecting such an obvious and outward display of want, nothing but pure need radiating off of Mingi like heat waves from a furnace. What if…
Mingi gives his hips an experimental roll, and the delicious friction between his clothed cock and Seonghwa’s firm thigh sends a pleased shiver up his spine. The reaction is instant - screams erupt from the audience, and Seonghwa is momentarily frozen - that is, until his hand reaches up and firmly grips at the necktie wound around Mingi’s shirt collar. It doesn’t take much force for Seonghwa to pull Mingi’s face close to his own, though Mingi has to bite back on a moan at the sensation of it constricting ever so slightly against his throat.
He winds his hand gingerly into the other man’s hair and sways his hips against Seonghwa’s own, in time with the music. Fuck, he’s so hard it hurts right now.
Their little show lasts only a few moments, but in that time the air between them has become charged with an unmistakable electricity. The song ends, and the applause from their fans is deafening - not like Mingi could have heard anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears anyways.
Sweat beads on his forehead and rolls down his temples as he attempts to catch his breath, and the back of his shirt is damp and sticking to his spine from the exertion of performing.
Now, it’s time to let another duo take the stage and showcase their own performance. Seonghwa turns on his heel and stalks off ahead of Mingi, who scrambles to catch up - leading the both of them backstage where they’ll be able to change outfits and take a much needed break.
Seonghwa whips around to face him as soon as they’re out of the audience’s line of sight, and Mingi barely manages to stop walking before running straight into him. Seonghwa looks like he wants to say something, but his brain and voice seem to be entirely disconnected. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but nothing comes out.
Mingi’s eyes meet his, and he can see an unmistakable flush dusting Seonghwa’s cheekbones underneath the remaining sheen of sweat on his honey skin, coloring the tips of his ears and nose a pretty rosy shade.
I want him so fucking bad.
The thought comes unbidden, from a primal part of Mingi’s brain that has seemingly latched onto whatever they had going on together onstage.
He’s still horribly, painfully hard, and Seonghwa is right here…
Before Mingi can stop himself, his hands are finding Seonghwa’s body again - this time not as a performance, but in a gesture just for the two of them. One hand slides up his hip and settles firmly on his waist, and the other travels just slightly south, down to the firm muscle of Seonghwa’s ass. Mingi gives a light squeeze to it and pulls himself flush against Seonghwa’s thigh once more, using his grip as leverage.
At this, the other man’s eyes shoot wide open, and his posture turns rigid.
“Mingi-” he starts.
“No one can see us,” Mingi interrupts. He leans his face closer to Seonghwa’s, close enough to watch the way his eyes dart across Mingi’s face questioningly. He glances down, and nearly laughs when he sees how Seonghwa is also already half-hard in the heat of the moment as well.
When Seonghwa doesn’t respond right away, Mingi brings his lips right up to the other man’s ear, and rumbles in a low voice: “We could be quick.”
The insinuation is right out in the open - help me, and I can help you.
Seonghwa’s body finally responds, bringing his own hands out to grip Mingi by the waist, his thumbs digging into the skin just over his hipbones with a maddening amount of pressure. At this, Mingi’s hips jerk forward involuntarily, pressing harder into Seonghwa’s thigh and shooting electric sparks of pleasure straight to his core. Normally it would be embarrassing just how much precum he’s already leaking, if he wasn’t already so damn turned on. But the material of his pants is starting to strain, and he seriously needs out of them right now.
Seonghwa’s eyes flit downward for a moment, taking in the sight of Mingi pressed desperately up on him, watching the way his hips have started to subconsciously roll against his thigh. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, and meets Mingi’s glassy eyes with his own.
“You want it that bad?” Seonghwa finally says.
“Fuck, please.”
Seonghwa slips his hands downwards until they’re gripping firmly onto the meat of Mingi’s ass over his too-tight leather pants. He gives a hard, almost painful squeeze.
And then he lets go.
“After.”
“What?” Mingi’s eyes widen at this, and he has to make a concentrated effort not to jut his bottom lip out into a frown.
“You’ll survive until after we’re done here,” Seonghwa says with a soft laugh. “You can be patient, princess.”
Something about the nickname, once affectionate yet now used in a degrading manner… it makes something dangerous swirl inside of him.
The sharp sound of a slap brings him back to reality - a stinging sensation blooms across his right asscheek, where Seonghwa had somehow managed to land a firm swat before beginning to walk away, back to the dressing room to get changed.
Well. Shit.
…
“Patience is a virtue, Mingi,” Wooyoung taunts, with an elbow to the man’s ribs. “Seriously, we’re all getting dinner together, and all you can think about is going back to the dorms? Both you and Hwa have claimed to be ‘too tired’ tonight.”
Mingi sighs. “It’s been a long day.”
Not a lie, entirely - but definitely nowhere near the whole truth. Mingi glances up from where he’d been staring at the floor, his heel tapping anxiously against the dull tile, and his eyes meet Seonghwa’s from across the dressing room.
The entire rest of the fan meet had taken agonizingly long to conclude, as though time was moving extra slow just for the sole purpose of tormenting him. He had wanted to run straight out the door afterwards with Seonghwa in tow, but the rest of them apparently had other plans - just to spite Mingi, it felt like.
Dinner and spite.
“Yea well, you never skip an opportunity for a meal. So what’s really going on?” Wooyoung presses the entire right side of his body against Mingi’s left, and his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, as his breath ghosts across the shell of Mingi’s ear. “Were you planning on actually sleeping once you got to the dorms, or…?”
“Wooyoung!” he snaps, a bit too loudly to be casual. “Now what’s that supposed to mean-”
The other man looks Mingi up and down, his eyebrows pinching together in a sharp expression that etches across his pretty features. “We attended the same event, right? I’m not delusional? We all saw you and Hwa eye-fucking each other during your performance, you know.”
Mingi’s eyes fly wide open and he smacks Wooyoung on the arm with a scandalized gasp.
“It’s not like that! It’s- uh-”
Before he can offer more of a stuttered retort, however, San’s voice cuts across the scattered conversations in the dressing room.
“Alright, the drivers are waiting outside to take us to dinner. Any objections to barbecue?”
The room fills with murmurs of assent, but all Mingi can think about is finally getting his hands back on Seonghwa. He’s been waiting so long, every second without relief scrapes against him like barbed wire on his skin.
“I’m not hungry.” The room goes quiet momentarily as Seonghwa stands up and begins to make his way to the exit. “I think I’ll be heading back to the dorms for tonight. You all have fun.”
As he passes where Mingi is seated, he turns his head slightly to glance down at him - just one look tells Mingi all he needs to know.
Come with, or you lose your chance.
Mingi jumps to his feet and rushes to catch up with Seonghwa for the second time that day, and mumbles out a stammered excuse to the others about also not being hungry.
A wolf whistle follows the two of them into the warm night air as they step outside, and Mingi internally curses Wooyoung for it, despite not having actually seen if he was the culprit or not.
As promised, three inconspicuous black cars wait lined up at the curb, ready to transport the men wherever they need to go. And right now, Mingi needs to get back to the dorm with Seonghwa or he’s going to lose it.
The two men climb into the first car and let the driver know their destination. Seonghwa reclines back in his seat, crosses one elegantly long leg over the other, and leans his chin atop his hand to stare out the window impassively.
Mingi, on the other hand, is far too pent up for this bullshit.
It’s a ten minute drive across the city.
Ten minutes.
That’s ten minutes, way too long.
By the time the company buildings come into view, Mingi is already half-hard in anticipation. For the few hours it took to wrap up the fan meet, the only thing on his mind had been getting into Seonghwa’s pants. Now that he’s almost back to the dorms, however, his imagination has done nothing but run wild.
Jerking each other off to completion.
Sucking Seonghwa’s cock and taking his entire load down his throat.
Bending over a desk and letting Seonghwa fuck him full until he cries.
Wait. Scratch that last one - he’s not going to cry. Depending on how the rest of the night goes, it could even end up the other way around, with Seonghwa crying on his cock.
The driver rolls their car to a steady stop by the entrance to their building. Seonghwa is already unbuckled and stepping back outside before Mingi even registers that they’ve arrived - and, once again, he finds himself trailing after the other man to catch up.
Seonghwa seems to be the epitome of patience in this moment; walking unhurriedly to their door, removing the key from his pants pocket, slowly inserting it into the lock and giving it a firm twist until it clicks, and pushing the door open.
As soon as Mingi crosses the threshold, he’s on Seonghwa in an instant - slamming the door behind them and roughly shoving him against it, with a knee placed firmly between his thighs and his hands pressing his hips back against the solid surface.
Seonghwa recovers from the surprise quickly. “You seriously skipped out on dinner to come back here with me? I’m touched,” he purrs. Mingi groans and rocks forward, just to get some friction on his aching cock, anything to satiate the arousal burning him down to his core.
“Can I eat you out?” he asks immediately, ignoring Seonghwa’s teasing. The other man’s breath catches in his throat, and Mingi can feel his cock twitch against his thigh at the suggestion.
“Please?” he adds for good measure.
Seonghwa stares at him for a moment, then nods mutely, his eyes still widened in surprise.
Mingi slides his hands up to Seonghwa’s belt, the biggest divider between him and what he’s been needing for hours. A glance back up at the other man’s face reveals that same dusty blush from earlier once again decorating his sculpted face, and as Seonghwa drags his own eyes up to meet Mingi’s, he nods once again.
The belt comes undone with a clink, and Mingi immediately works at the button and zipper.
“Turn around, hands on the door,” he instructs. Seonghwa moves without protest, and Mingi sinks to his knees behind him. He runs his hands up the length of Seonghwa’s legs, then takes a hold of his waistband. He drags the man’s pants and underwear down and lets them fall to the floor unceremoniously, pooling into a puddle of fabric at Seonghwa’s feet.
“Nice ass,” he can’t help but remark.
Seonghwa scoffs at this and turns to look over his shoulder at Mingi. “Get on with it, or I’m going to go jerk off by myself and- ah-!”
His words are cut off by Mingi’s harsh grip, nails digging ever so slightly into the meat of both of Seonghwa’s asscheeks and spreading him wide before him. The other man’s back arches involuntarily, presenting his waiting hole just for Mingi.
The number of times he’s stared at Seonghwa’s long modelesque legs, he just can’t help it - Mingi licks a stripe up the back of the man’s thigh, nipping and sucking in its wake. Seonghwa groans, the sound low and sweet, spurring Mingi on to treat the other side the same, until both thighs are thoroughly ravaged with freshly blooming bite marks.
With one final bite to his left cheek, Mingi tentatively teases his tongue around Seonghwa’s rim.
A litany of curses falls from Seonghwa’s mouth, along with something that sounds an awful lot like “Stop teasing”, though when Mingi’s tongue breaches Seonghwa’s entrance, all words seem to become lost from the other man’s vocabulary entirely.
He tastes warm and musky, and there’s a slight hint of bitter saltiness to him. The taste just spurs Mingi on further, and he works his tongue as far into Seonghwa as he can go, while keeping his cheeks spread as wide apart as he can hold them. It’s hot and wet, and Mingi can feel the saliva beginning to drip down his chin - though, he really doesn’t have it in him to care about that right now.
“F-fuhhhhck, just like that,” Seonghwa croons.
Mingi pulls away momentarily to wipe his chin and catch his breath, a string of saliva still connecting between his lips and the other man’s hole: “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
Seonghwa makes a displeased sound and arches back against Mingi, his demand clear.
“I didn’t say you could stop.”
He needs no further instruction - Mingi returns to spearing his tongue deeply into Seonghwa’s now-slick hole, eating him out like his life depends on it. Seonghwa begins rocking back against his face, fucking himself onto Mingi’s tongue and unabashedly babbling a steady stream of Oh fuck and Don’t stop and More.
The sounds echoing through the room are obscene - squelching and slurping and the occasional scratch of Seonghwa’s nails against the door, with each sound amplified by Mingi’s enthusiasm in pleasuring Seonghwa to the best of his ability.
“Fuck- fuck, Mingi- stop-”
Mingi pulls away, his eyes glassy and his lips glossed with a sheen of spit trailing down to his chin.
“Huh?” he says, intelligently. “Was it not good?”
Seonghwa half-laughs, half-groans at this, and looks over his shoulder down at Mingi in his already fucked-out state. “No no, uh, I just didn’t want to cum too quickly.”
“Oh. Ohhhh,” Mingi’s brain finally catches up. He gives Seonghwa a cocky grin and licks his lips - “So I was too good then, huh?”
Seonghwa stands fully upright, removing his hands from the door, and stretching his arms straight up overhead. Mingi thinks he hears the other man say something, but all thought is lost when he makes direct eye contact with Seonghwa’s erection - a small patch of dark hair trails down to where it’s bobbing thick and heavy between his legs, no longer confined to his too-small pants.
He continues to watch greedily as Seonghwa unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the floor with the rest of his clothes, then stalks off towards the couch where he sits on the center cushion with thighs spread wide.
Seonghwa snaps his fingers at him, and Mingi looks back up from his vantage point, still kneeling on the floor.
“I said, come here,” Seonghwa commands, gesturing towards himself.
Mingi obeys without question, standing and walking the few paces it takes to get to their couch. He hesitates when Seonghwa looks up at him with anticipant eyes, as he stands between the man’s knees.
Seonghwa pats his bare thigh, the expectation clear on his face.
“Sit.”
Mingi slowly lifts a knee onto the couch, crawling into his lap and straddling himself over one of Seonghwa’s thighs. He can feel his neglected cock twitch in interest as a minuscule amount of friction allows him some pleasure in the position.
“Mingi,” Seonghwa breathes, looking up innocently through his eyelashes at him. “You want me, don’t you?”
“What- obviously I do! I-”
“Then show me.” Seonghwa tilts his head to the side and bites down on the inside of his cheek, letting his eyes rove shamelessly over Mingi’s still-clothed body. “Show me how bad you want me.”
At the look of confusion on Mingi’s face, Seonghwa chuckles.
“Ride it.”
Mingi could swear his brain shut down, rebooted, and shut down again, all within the span of a few seconds.
Oh.
Oh.
Seonghwa’s hands find his waist and suddenly, any possible dignity Mingi would have had left goes flying entirely out the metaphorical window.
He starts slowly, the drag of his sensitive cock against Seonghwa’s firm thigh sending waves of pleasure throughout his whole body. Mingi lets his eyes fall closed and tosses his head back with a grunt as he picks up his pace, rutting his hips shamelessly, chasing his own pleasure. But every time it feels like he’s found a good angle, an orgasm building up and just being seconds away, the feeling vanishes. Not to mention, his thighs already burn from the exertion.
It’s just not enough - there’s still far too many layers between him and Seonghwa for it to be entirely satisfying. He groans in frustration, resting his forehead against Seonghwa’s as he continues to thrust up against the man’s leg.
“Poor thing,” Seonghwa coos, and Mingi could swear those words alone could have made him cum had he not still been in his too-tight and kinda-uncomfortable pants. “Trying so hard for such little reward.”
Mingi doesn’t have it in him to reply in words. He cants his hips weakly one last time with a sound bordering on a whimper, before pausing to give his tired muscles a break.
“You worked so hard for that, such a good boy. Here princess, I’ll reward you for your efforts.”
Mingi sits back on his haunches still propped up on Seonghwa’s thigh. He watches dumbly as Seonghwa deftly undoes his belt, button, and zipper, then reaches his hand into his underwear to take out his length, where a wet patch of precum is already smeared on the inside of his boxers. Seonghwa’s hand is slightly cold, and Mingi’s back arches at the sensation - of finally, blissfully having the other man’s hands on him.
“Fuck- careful, I don’t think I can last long,” Mingi warns.
Seonghwa gives a tentative stroke up Mingi’s shaft, and thumbs gently at his slit, smiling at the soft moan that escapes from the man’s lips at this. “Doesn’t matter. Once won’t be enough anyways.”
He starts up a rhythm, stroking up and down Mingi’s shaft, collecting precum from his tip to lubricate his motions. Mingi keeps his hands firmly gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulders for support, and his head dips down as he pants and whines between strokes.
“Fuck, Hwa, keep going like that-”
Seonghwa meets Mingi’s eyes, and his lips curl up into a devilish grin. “What do we say?”
Through the haze in his brain, Mingi could swear Seonghwa just asked him something. “Huh?” Is all he can manage.
Seonghwa ceases his motions and Mingi almost cries out at the loss. He was so close.
“What do we say when we’re asking for something?”
“Um… please?”
At this, the other man laughs humorlessly. “You can do better than that.”
Oh. So that’s the game he wants to play.
Well, time for Mingi to lose even more of his pride.
He conjures up his best doe eyes, staring sweetly down at Seonghwa- “Fuck, Hwa, please please please let me come, I promise I can be so good, pleasepleaseplease-”
Seonghwa resumes his pace, stroking and teasing at his swollen head. “Good, I knew you had it in you. You close?”
“So so fucking close, please don’t stop, ‘m gonna-”
The muscles in his abdomen pull taut and his thighs shake with the force of his orgasm - thick white ropes spurt out of him, most of which lands on seonghwa’s stomach and exposed thigh - though some still ends up landing back on Mingi’s pants as well.
He gives an embarrassed laugh and glances away.
“Um… I usually last longer than that, I just… uh…” Mingi’s words die in his throat as he brings his gaze back to meet Seonghwa’s, whose eyes are fixated on the mess. He watches as the man swipes his index and middle finger through some of his cum, already a bit tacky from exposure to the air, and holds them expectantly in front of Mingi’s face. Without thinking he parts his lips, and suddenly Seonghwa is shoving his fingers into his mouth, spreading Mingi’s own cum directly onto his tongue.
“Swallow,” comes Seonghwa’s command.
Mingi doesn’t even think twice before obeying. He swallows it down, and even opens his mouth after to prove that it’s all gone.
Seonghwa taps Mingi on the thigh, and the touch grounds him in his post-orgasmic haze.
“Up.”
Mingi shifts off of his lap, his legs quaking like a newborn deer’s and his joints popping after having sat in one position for so long. Seonghwa scoots one cushion over and stares, clearly amused, at Mingi’s trembling form.
“Mingi,” he starts.
“Huh? What?”
“Would it be weird if I kissed you?”
And once again, Mingi’s brain chooses that very moment to factory reset.
“Dude. I literally had my tongue in your ass, then you jerked me off and fed me my own cum- I don’t think kissing is too intimate at this rate-”
Seonghwa’s face turns a deep shade of beet-red at this. “Okay! Okay, point taken, it won’t be weird, I get it.”
He scoots closer until their thighs are pressed against each other. Seonghwa’s eyes meet Mingi’s, and for the first time since they arrived back at the dorms, he feels a twinge of nerves.
“You know,” Seonghwa says gently, leaning close enough that his words brush whisper-soft against Mingi’s lips, “had we not been on stage when you pulled that little stunt, I would have fucked you right then and there.”
The words send a cold shiver down Mingi’s spine, and he can already feel his spent cock twitching curiously at the notion.
Seonghwa’s lips graze gently against his own, a chaste and almost tender motion. Mingi chases the feeling, following Seonghwa as he pulls back to try and catch the man’s lips on his again. He gently grabs Seonghwa’s face and pulls him back in.
Out of nowhere, Seonghwa bites down on Mingi’s lower lip, then pulls back ever so slightly where Mingi can see his triumphantly wicked smile. Mingi opens his mouth to protest as the spot begins to sting, but at this invitation, Seonghwa dives back in, slipping his tongue between his parted lips. Mingi chokes on a gasp of surprise, before attempting to take back control - this just spurs Seonghwa on more though, as he slides his hands up Mingi’s sides.
“Ugh,” Seonghwa grunts as he pulls back briefly, tugging on the offending fabric between him and Mingi’s muscled chest. “Take your shirt off. Take it all off, now.”
The words haven’t even left his mouth before Mingi is stripping it all off, standing up momentarily to tug off his bottoms and throwing everything into the pile with Seonghwa’s own discarded clothes. He returns to the couch, and hasn’t sat down for more than a moment before Seonghwa is on him again, even more ferociously than before, nipping and biting and sucking at the delicate skin on Mingi’s neck - in spots that will be a total pain in the ass to cover later.
Whatever.
His hands run along Mingi’s chest, and catch on the sensitive buds of his nipples, now flushed and hardened in the cool dorm air. He takes one between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental pinch. Mingi keens, high and pitchy, at the sensation.
“You like that, princess?” Seonghwa teases. He places a single hand in the center of Mingi’s chest, the request of which is clear. He doesn’t have to push - Mingi lays back willingly, and Seonghwa immediately envelops him underneath his own body, straddling over top and caging him in with his hands on either side of Mingi’s head. He leans down and licks a fat stripe over the other nipple, and takes it into his mouth with a harsh suck. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud until Mingi is writhing underneath him.
“Haah, H- Hwa, that feels so…”
Seonghwa pops off of his nipple with a wet slurp, looking as satisfied as the cat that caught the canary.
“Do you bottom?”
Well… that’s not what Mingi had been expecting to be asked.
“I uh- um,”
“No shame in it. Do you?”
Mingi nods, not trusting his voice entirely to work. “Sometimes,” he croaks out.
Seonghwa smiles slyly at this. “Perfect. You look like you’re begging to be fucked right now, so I’m glad my intuition was correct.”
Mingi lays there, dumbfounded at Seonghwa’s words. He can feel his face heating up with a deep red flush - How can he just say these things so shamelessly?!
Once again, Seonghwa offers his index and middle finger to Mingi, prodding them against his lips.
“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me.”
If Mingi wasn’t already hard again before this, he definitely is now. He takes Seonghwa’s fingers into his mouth once more, this time focusing on sucking and pooling as much spit around them as possible. He looks up at the other man through his eyelashes, satisfied to see that Seonghwa seems entranced on the way he’s taking his fingers so well.
Just like he could take Seonghwa’s cock if he asked-
Without warning, Seonghwa removes the digits from Mingi’s mouth so quickly that a string of saliva still connects from his lips to the tips of the man’s fingers.
Their eye contact never wavers, not even as Seonghwa reaches his hand down, all the way between Mingi’s legs, and begins prodding gently at his entrance.
Mingi bites his lip and his eyebrows quirk ever so slightly upward, as Seonghwa begins pushing in agonizingly slowly. He sucks in a deep breath at the intrusion, focusing on keeping his breathing as steady as possible as Seonghwa begins scissoring his fingers and stretching his tight little hole.
“Feels okay?” Seonghwa asks.
“H- hurry up already,” Mingi shoots back weakly.
At this, Seonghwa hooks his fingers at just the right angle, and Mingi’s back arches high off the couch as the other man hits right against his prostate.
Seonghwa snorts at this. “You were saying?” he says.
Mingi opens his mouth to make another smart remark, when Seonghwa repeats the motion again, harsher this time. Mingi moans unabashedly as Seonghwa’s fingers hit against that spot again.
“Just fucking put it in already,” Mingi groans. At this, Seonghwa quirks an eyebrow at him, to which the other man adds a timid, “…please?”
“Spread your legs,” is all Seonghwa says in response. He shuffles back, allowing Mingi the room to do as he’d been asked - which of course he does, without hesitation.
Seonghwa scoots back up, lining up the tip of his own hard and leaking cock with Mingi’s stretched hole. He grips onto Mingi’s narrow waist and gives him one last questioning look.
“Ready?”
“I’ve been ready, god fuck just put it in-”
Seonghwa slowly pushes his way in, muttering curses and a reverent “So fucking tight” under his breath as he does so. Mingi barely hears him over the blood rushing in his ears. The flush dusting Seonghwa’s face before has darkened, and colored all the way down to the soft swell of his defined chest, covered only by a thin sheen of sweat reminiscent of that which covered him hours before at the fan meet.
He presses deeper until he’s fully seated inside Mingi’s hole, giving him a moment to adjust to the sensation. After a moment, he slowly pulls back out, and presses back in, beginning to find a slow pace to chase both of their pleasure. His hips roll in rhythmic waves, picking up speed as the pain from the initial stretch turns over to pleasure.
Mingi, of course, can’t keep his mouth shut -
“Hwa, f-fuck, yea, keep going, just like that,” he babbles incoherently. “Harder, you can go harder, I can take it-”
Seonghwa listens, his hips snapping hard against Mingi’s ass as he speeds up impossibly faster, each thrust targeting that bundle of nerves deep inside.
“Hah, yea, you like that? All bold until you’re on my cock, isn’t that right?”
Mingi doesn’t know if it’s sweat dripping down his face that makes his eyes sting, or if he really is being fucked to the point of tears - all he knows is that it feels good, so impossibly good, that he feels like he could come any second.
As if reading his mind, Seonghwa snaps his hips forward harshly, jostling Mingi up against the arm rest of the couch. “You want me to fill you up? Is that what you want? You gonna come on my cock while I show you who you belong to?”
“Please, please, yes- just let me come, you can fill me up too, just please-”
Seonghwa hikes Mingi’s legs up over his shoulders, fucking him impossibly deeper until Mingi is certain that it’s tears of pleasure blurring his vision.
“Go on, come for me princess,” Seonghwa instructs.
Mingi’s vision whites out around the edges, and he swears he can see stars - thighs shake hard as the hot release coats his abdomen in streaks of white, and moments later he can feel Seonghwa’s own release painting his insides too - claiming him from the inside out.
They both stay like that for several minutes - sweating, panting, attempting to catch their breath.
Agonizingly slowly, Seonghwa pulls out with a wince, his softening cock leaving a steady stream of cum dripping slowly out of Mingi’s spent hole.
“So, uh…” Seonghwa starts.
Mingi goes to sit up, then cringes at the sticky mess all over himself. “I feel absolutely disgusting. We both need to shower, ugh-”
Before either of them can get up, however, the sound of footsteps outside their dorm in the hallway snaps both of them back to reality as though they’d had a bucket of cold water dumped over them. They lock eyes with each other, both entirely frozen in panic.
A blanket sits across the room on a lone armchair, and before Mingi can think, Seonghwa bolts across the room and snags it, throwing it to Mingi. He rushes back over and motions for Mingi to cover the both of them with it.
As soon as the blanket is just barely making them decent, San pushes the door open while humming a cheery tune.
“Hey guys, you forgot to lock the- door…”
He looks at Seonghwa and Mingi, barely covered under the blanket, then at the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, then back to the two of them.
“Hey San. How was dinner?” Seonghwa asks nonchalantly, as if nothing about the entire situation is abnormal in the slightest.
“It was… good…” he replies slowly. “What have you two been up to…?”
Mingi can feel his face burning a deep shade of crimson- he looks over at Seonghwa, who in turn looks back at him with a catlike smile.
“Cardio,” Seonghwa replies simply.
San’s confused expression remains for just a moment, before the implications of what Seonghwa said dawn on him.
“Oh.” he says dumbly. “Oh- Oh!” he grimaces and squints at both of them. “Oh. On the- on the couch? Really guys?”
“Sorry,” Seonghwa says, sounding about as far from sorry as he could possibly be. “We’ll clean it up.”
San looks like he wants to say something more, but just shuts his mouth and shakes his head, making a beeline for the bedroom.
Seonghwa turns to Mingi, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead - a total one-eighty from the energy he’d been giving him before - and cards a hand through his mussed up hair.
“So… wanna go again?”