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Subtlety was never Wooyoung’s strongest character trait. He would never dream of denying that hard fact of life. So he learned to lean into it, to use the fact that everyone had some idea of what he was plotting to turn them all into co-conspirators. Whether or not they were willing was irrelevant if they were already involved in his scheme. When you make something everyone else’s problem, it becomes much easier to handle as a team than alone.
Usually those schemes amounted to simple things, jokes or pranks or teasing one of the members. Similarly made simpler by involving the others, but on occasion, he was known to have slightly deeper motives.
Lately, that motive had been Mingi. Namely, wooing that tall, dorky friend of his. Much easier said than done, considering Mingi treated flirting as a competition. Fanservice. If you flirted openly with Mingi, you could usually expect an aggressive return, the likes of which would make even one Choi San shy and flustered. Wooyoung could typically give as good as he got in that arena, but even he was never immune to Mingi.
Though the others had seen Wooyoung take a fleeting interest in people outside of the group, it was obvious to him that they hadn’t expected him to be quite so persistent about it this time. He would often lament to the others about just how into Mingi he was, which was in and of itself an anomaly. Wooyoung was never one to be particularly held up over anyone. Imagine how surprised they’d be if they knew he’d been silently crushing on him for years, and was only just starting to consider acting on it. Which is why he made it everyone else’s problem.
Currently, he was pouting up at Yunho from where his head rested on his lap. Mingi was out of the dorm, so he made no real habit of checking who was coming and going from the common area. “You need to talk to your best friend about the difference between fanservice and actual flirting,” he insisted. “When someone is practically throwing themselves at you all of the time, even in private,” the volume and pitch of his voice rose as the sentence trudged along, “you’re not supposed to treat it the same way you would in front of thousands of people!”
Yunho’s responding serene smile was somehow both patient and amused. “Maybe you just need to turn up the intensity,” he offered.
Wooyoung let out an indignant noise in response. “I have literally tried everything short of directly asking him to let me suck his dick,” he emphasized. “How much more intense do you expect me to be?”
Hongjoong, passing by in his periphery, stopped in his tracks. Wooyoung turned to look at him, thrilled to have the additional perspective to weigh in, only to find him looking back at Wooyoung with thinly veiled disappointment.
Wooyoung huffed. “What? I’m just keeping the group appropriately up to date on the progress of my sexual conquest. I’d expect the same from you,” he insisted. Aside from a scoff, Wooyoung’s generous show of support for his hyung’s love life was utterly ignored. Unacceptable. See if Wooyoung would support Hongjoong’s own conquests now.
Yeosang, watching them from his spot on the other end of the couch, snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Have you tried straight-up trying to seduce him?”
Yunho chuckled from above him. “That might work,” he suggested. “Our Mingi-yah might not realize your intentions for flirting with him, but he is human. Lay it on thick enough, he’ll snap eventually.” His smile was entirely too sweet and innocent for the clear implications.
Wooyoung hummed thoughtfully. “So just tempt him enough and he’ll bend me over the nearest flat surface, is what you’re saying,” he considered.
Yunho’s smile dropped ever so slightly. “What? No, I-”
“Oh!” Wooyoung shouted, startling Yunho into silence. “Would he even fuck me? You don’t think he’s like, an exclusive bottom, right?” He looked at Yunho imploringly.
Yunho made a face right back at him. “Why do you think I would know that?” He asked, eyebrows raised. “Your guess is as good as mine. And mine is that yes, he’s an exclusive bottom,” he added with a slow nod.
Wooyoung’s expression turned contemplative again. “I guess I could work with that. He’s worth it,” he decided.
San, who had at some point appeared behind the couch, leaned forward to smirk down at him. “Very noble of you,” he conceded. “Frankly, I’m shocked you haven’t already been attempting to seduce him. That seems like a very Wooyoung-coded move.”
That finally got him moving, as he sat up with his fists clenched, determined. “You’re right! The sooner I start, the sooner one of us will be bending the other over the closest flat surface,” he declared passionately.
There was a choking noise from the doorway, and when Wooyoung turned his attention to it, he found Jongho gripping the doorframe. “Hongjoong-hyung literally told me not to come out here, I don’t know why I didn’t listen,” he muttered darkly, already turning to leave.
“Jongho-yah,” Wooyoung cooed. Jongho stiffened in response, immediately suspicious. “Come on, help your favorite hyung win over your other favorite hyung,” he insisted.
The look Jongho leveled at Wooyoung was so soulessly disinterested that Wooyoung was genuinely impressed. “No thanks. I don’t want to set Mingi-hyung up with Yeosang-hyung,” he deadpanned.
Wooyoung gasped, scandalized. “Ungrateful child,” he cried, mourning the fact that he had nothing to throw at him. Or at Yunho, cackling loudly in response. Maybe even at Yeosang, smiling shyly at the compliment. Cursed usurper of Jongho’s affections. Even if the way Jongho cracked a small smile when they made eye contact was a little painfully adorable. Disgusting.
It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to determine that if he was going to seduce Mingi, he was on his own. Just like usual, it helped to know everyone was forcibly made aware of his plans, even if they refused any true assistance. In truth, they were helping even where they didn’t want to. If any of them stumbled their way into an otherwise private interaction between Wooyoung and Mingi, they nope’d the fuck out of the room and left them to their privacy.
So when Wooyoung walked into the living room wearing the most obscenely tight and short pair of shorts he owned paired with a loose t-shirt with the sleeves cut so low that half of his torso was on display whenever he moved too much, Hongjoong gave him one quick look before pushing himself up off of the couch with a huff. Wooyoung gave him his sunniest smile as he made his way out of the room, which was met with an exaggerated eye roll.
Since Wooyoung was known to be one of the more cuddly members, he figured it would go unquestioned if he snuggled right up to him. He did just that, settling down on the couch and curling into him with his head on Mingi’s shoulder. He kept his legs curled on the couch beside him, knowing that it accentuated the roundness of his ass. If Mingi were to only glance to the side, he’d have a fantastic view of where Wooyoung’s shorts barely covered the curve of his ass.
He preened when he felt Mingi’s eyes on him, as fleeting as it may have been. Mingi was as rarely subtle as Wooyoung, so he had turned his head to blatantly give him a once-over before turning back to the television. “Is that my shirt?” Wooyoung felt his boost in confidence deflate slightly as he hummed his affirmation, but it was quickly saved by Mingi’s answering, “You should keep it. It looks sexy on you.”
Wooyoung pushed himself up off of the couch, standing and turning to show it off. “Ah, thank you, Mingi-yah. I needed something to balance out these shorts,” he stopped with his back to Mingi, glancing back at him as he pulled the back of the shirt up and tightened it around his hips. With his ass uncovered and his narrow waist on display, he wiggled his hips slightly. “They’re not too short, are they? I was a little worried about wearing them, I think they might have shrunk in the wash,” he said through his fakest pout.
“Oh, um,” Mingi began eloquently, clearly unable to keep his eyes away from them. “No. They’re perfect,” he provided, before seemingly deciding his answer had been too invested. “I mean, they look fine.”
Wooyoung allowed himself to face forward to get the self-satisfied grin out of his system before schooling his expression and glancing back at him with the most innocent expression he could muster. Releasing his hold on the shirt while keeping his hips angled in a way that wouldn’t allow it to fall back into place, he moved his hands to cover his own ass, pretending to feel for the length of the shorts. He made sure to move his hands in such a way to jiggle his ass ever so slightly, just enough to make it look unintentional. He had to turn his face back away from Mingi to fight a giggle when he heard him swallow audibly at the action, before feigning ignorance to ask, “Are you sure? I feel like I’m practically falling out of them.”
“Yeah,” Mingi breathed from behind him, which made Wooyoung snap his head around to glance at him once again, fighting to keep his expression neutral. In the split second before his own response registered, Wooyoung caught him gripping his own sweatpants so hard that his knuckles were white, wearing an expression like he was in a trance. Immediately, his eyes widened as he took in the giddy surprise on Wooyoung’s face. “No!” he shouted, “You’re not. Really, they’re fine.” His expression was pained, and Wooyoung was living for it.
Unfortunately, just as Wooyoung was beginning to think he might be able to take this somewhere, Mingi leapt out of his seat with a vague excuse about how he’d had plans with Jongho. Wooyoung had a feeling it was justification for sneaking back to his room, since he was fairly sure Jongho was still at the company building.
When Wooyoung decides to double down and wear the shorts to their next dance practice, it’s no one’s fault but Mingi’s. As he walked into the practice room, he was immediately greeted by Yeosang’s straightforward, “Yah, Wooyoung-ah, what the fuck is with the shorts?” It was followed in quick succession by a snort from San, a gagging noise from Jongho, and most satisfactorily, a choking noise from Mingi.
Wooyoung frowned for dramatic effect, turning to inspect his reflection in the mirror. “What? Mingi-yah said they were fine,” he insisted, hoping the mirth he could see reflected in his own eyes was less apparent to the others. Or at least to Mingi.
Yunho giggled in response before choking out an emphatic and amused, “Yeah, that sounds like Mingi-yah.” He turned his smirk on Mingi, who had a deer-in-headlights expression on his face. Wooyoung was delighted to note the stiffness of his shoulders paired with the flush creeping up his neck. He hadn’t bothered to lessen their effect with a baggy shirt this time, instead opting to wear a form-fitting tank. More importantly, it didn’t hang low enough to obstruct the view he had planned for Mingi.
Throughout practice, it was clear Hongjoong’s patience was wearing thin. Seonghwa was all too happy to placate him, though it lost some of its effect when he seemed just as amused by the situation as San and Yunho. Wooyoung would swear he even saw Seonghwa send him an exaggerated wink in the mirror after one particularly transparent fumble from Mingi while watching Wooyoung dance. If Wooyoung went out of his way to accentuate the movement of his hips, stretch in a particularly sultry manner, or even practice some body rolls during downtime, that was his prerogative.
And Wooyoung was never one to be shy about having everyone’s attention on him. Entirely free of shame about the situation, he reveled in the reactions he received from everyone, not just Mingi. Though Mingi’s were certainly the most compelling. With the blatant hunger in his eyes as they tracked Wooyoung’s every move in the mirror, he genuinely thought that this might be the breakthrough he was seeking. So when Mingi bolts as soon as they call an end to practice, Wooyoung is slightly baffled. He even attempted to seek him out, but he was well and truly gone.
While he worked on plotting his next move, he began to ramp up how handsy he was with Mingi. He found any excuse to touch him, any reason to get up close and personal. Mingi was never one to shy away from affection, often returning it easily with a beaming smile. So it felt like a bit of a win when he could sense the barely there, split second of Mingi tensing up each and every time before reciprocating. Or the way that there was a noticeable uptick in the frequency with which Mingi would trip over his own words when Wooyoung was cuddled into his side.
It was no secret that Mingi liked to be praised. What a coincidence, because Wooyoung thought he was pretty all-around fantastic and had no qualms about relaying his opinions on the matter to him directly. He doubled down on that, too, lately. It really was no burden to him at all. The maybe 10% of his thoughts that he would have filtered, he simply stopped filtering. Which mostly just meant that instead of telling Mingi he was cute or sexy, he would go into excruciating detail about it.
“Those glasses with that shirt make you look like the hot teacher all the students want to do badly in his class so he’ll talk down to them,” Wooyoung offered. Mingi only looked mildly startled, whereas Hongjoong looked offended.
“Yah, don’t project your shame kink on those innocent theoretical students,” he scolded.
“What? All I’m saying is I’d suck your dick for a better grade in that outfit,” he defended. He allowed himself to give Mingi a blatant once-over. “Or, you know, without it. You could still fail me in your class, even,” he added, making aggressive eye contact and spreading his arms for dramatic emphasis. Again, Wooyoung never claimed to be subtle. It was worth it for the dumbstruck look on Mingi’s face, and the way his face was rapidly reddening. Apparently, Mingi giving back the flirting as good as he got was checked at the door when Wooyoung was actively attempting to seduce him. Who would’ve thought?
Or when Mingi posted a new series of pictures on their instagram, Wooyoung found great pleasure in holding his phone right up to Mingi’s face as he scrolled through the images. With eyebrows raised, he said with gusto, “This,” scrolled to the next picture, “is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” scrolled again and scoffed, “Song Mingi-yah, what the fuck did I ever do to you to incite this personal attack?”
“Oh, uh. Thank you. Wait, or I’m sorry? Did you like them or hate them?” And he did look confused. Wooyoung figured he could help him along.
“I loved it. You look amazing,” he insisted. “Like, you always do, but these pictures have awakened something deep within me,” he added.
Since he was often uncaring about his surroundings when attempting his own brand of flirting, he was slightly spooked by the snort Seonghwa let out from behind him on the couch. He turned just in time to watch Yunho elbow him in the side with an exaggerated wink, loudly and dramatically whispering, “that’s not the only thing he’d like deep within him,” as Seonghwa smirked conspiratorially in response. Once he recovered from his brief surprise, Wooyoung only turned back to Mingi with an expectant smile. Mingi, again bright red, wordlessly turned and walked off.
“You assholes scared him off before I could make my move,” he complained.
Yunho only turned his sunny smile on Wooyoung. “Nah, it’s obviously working. Didn’t you see how pleased he was? He’s probably gonna get off on the memory of your praise when he has shower time later,” he consoled.
“You and I have very different definitions of working, Yunho-yah. If it was working, he would include me in said shower time. Or at least let me watch,” he conceded.
Seonghwa laughed again. “Yeah, Wooyoung-ah. Like he said. You’re definitely making progress toward your goal,” he added, gesturing toward the direction in which Mingi had fled. He guessed he could live with progress.
It was blatantly apparent that Mingi was, indeed, acting differently around Wooyoung lately. He had been acting almost shy around him when he made his advances, which was so vastly un-Mingi that Wooyoung immediately knew things were changing. He would have been mildly concerned, except for the fact that he found Mingi’s eyes on him nearly constantly. He would catch him staring at his mouth, his ass, even his whole body during dance practices. Wooyoung, always satisfied the more eyes he had on him, was elated to see it.
It doesn’t take long for Wooyoung to reach his limit, impatient with the slow process and desperate to take a solid step. The opportunity was more or less handed to him on a silver platter when Mingi decided to skip practice (very uncharacteristic) and Wooyoung was happy to accept being volunteered to leave early to check on him. He always knew San was his best friend. He silently vowed to repay him for what was so clearly a beautiful set-up on his behalf.
When he came home to a dark and quiet dorm, he decided he could at least be patient enough to shower off the grime of practice. If he chose to take extra time to be thorough, that was no one’s business but his own. After blow drying his hair and pulling on a particularly flattering muscle shirt and some low-hanging sweats, he made his way back out to the living room. Still quiet, still empty. He frowned.
He made his way to Mingi’s door, knocking and quietly calling for him. “Mingi-yah? Are you okay?” He could have sworn he heard a faint yelp through the door, but he wasn’t entirely convinced his ears weren’t playing tricks on him. “Can I come in?”
He heard some soft rustling before Mingi’s voice quietly responded, “Uh, okay.” Only a small lamp on the bedside table lit the space, Mingi laying on his stomach with his head propped on a pillow over his folded arms. His phone was tossed in front of him, screen black. “What are you doing back here so early? I thought practice was supposed to run another couple of hours,” he said, a bit wearily.
“It is,” he agreed. “I came to check on you. Sannie volunteered me as tribute,” he said cheerily. “Didn’t you hear me come in? Or at least the hairdryer in the bathroom? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, I was watching a video on my phone. I didn’t hear anything until you knocked,” he insisted. Wooyoung fought the urge to ask what he was watching, though it took a herculean effort. He didn’t want to fluster him and scare him off prematurely.
“Okay,” he continued cautiously. “Are you alright? It’s not like you to skip practice.”
Mingi flinched slightly at the question. “I’m okay. Just had a bit of a bad anxiety day, and my back feels like it might be about to act up. Figured I could nip both in the bud, taking it a bit easier today,” he explained. At Wooyoung’s concerned expression, he hurried to add, “It’s fine! I’m okay. And my back is only a little sore,” he promised.
Wooyoung fought through the minor twinge of guilt he had about still making a move when Mingi was having a bad day, but on the plus side, maybe he could help him relax. He perked up at the thought, blurting out the first idea that came to mind. “Let me give you a massage!” He consciously chose not to be embarrassed about how eager he knew he sounded at the prospect.
Mingi clearly tried to school his deer-in-headlights expression, but it only served to make him look mildly haunted.
Wooyoung held his hands up placatingly. “Please? I want to, and I’m really good at massages. Ask literally anyone. I’ll make you feel good, I promise!” Mingi looked conflicted, which Wooyoung didn’t love, but eventually he muttered a quiet agreement. He went to drop his upper body to the bed, but Wooyoung stopped him with a “wait, take off your shirt first.” He hesitated slightly, but thankfully he did comply.
Once Mingi was comfortably laid out on the bed, Wooyoung wasted no time at all straddling his upper thighs to get started. No sooner had he allowed his hands to trail down Mingi’s back before he paused. “Do you have any lotion in here?”
Before Mingi could respond with “bottom drawer,” Wooyoung had already pulled open the top instead. Well, there was his lube, anyway. Mingi squeaked slightly when Wooyoung didn’t immediately shut the drawer, but he didn’t comment as Wooyoung grinned knowingly at the not-so-modestly sized dildo shoved in the back, pleased with his discovery.
After retrieving the lotion, he warmed a generous amount between his hands before gently bringing his hands down to rub at Mingi’s shoulders. Mingi tensed almost imperceptibly beneath his touch. He knew it was Mingi’s lower back that was the usual culprit, but he was determined to make this more than just a short and targeted attack. He really did want to make Mingi feel good, and if he could make the massage particularly sensual, he certainly wouldn’t avoid it.
He was careful to work all of the tension out of Mingi’s shoulders, neck, and upper back before he moved downwards toward the offending spot. By that point, Mingi had practically melted into his bed, and Wooyoung tried and failed not to be too smug about it. He wasn’t kidding about being great at massages.
When Wooyoung’s thumbs pressed into the tense muscle on either side of the base of Mingi’s spine, he was momentarily terrified that he had hurt him by the gasp that he let out. The fleeting worry he held faded just as quickly as Mingi followed the sound up with a quiet, humming moan. Intrigued, he repeated the motion, eyes trained on the side of Mingi’s face that was visible. He watched attentively as Mingi bit his lip, eyes closed. Wooyoung took in the flush of his cheek, his ear pink to match.
Oh. He continued to trace the same path with his thumbs, fingers fanned out over Mingi’s low back, just a bit higher and he’d be gripping his amazingly tiny waist, adding more pressure with each and every pass. He stared with fascination at the way Mingi’s eyebrows twitched together, how his mouth hung open, how the hand partially covered by his pillow was clutching and releasing the sheets rhythmically with each roll of his thumbs over Mingi’s spine.
The longer he continued working at the tension Mingi carried there, the more apparent it became that Mingi was beginning to have a hard time staying still. The noises he made were breathier, as he practically squirmed at Wooyoung’s touch. Wooyoung was enthralled, overcome with power at making Mingi like this, underneath his touch alone. “How does it feel, Mingi-yah? Good?”
Just as Mingi’s eyes snapped dazedly open and he inhaled to respond, Wooyoung increased the pressure his entire hands were exerting, almost pressing his whole body down in the process. He smirked as Mingi’s answer began with a hitched breath and a gasp. “It, ah! It feels really good, Wooyoung-ah,” he breathed.
Wooyoung was fully hard by that point, sweats straining to contain him, and he was pretty certain Mingi was fairing no better. He had been doing his best to be composed, keeping himself hovering politely over Mingi so he wouldn’t be tempted to rub himself up against him, even at the cost of holding quite the awkward position for himself. He wanted so badly to just lower himself down, settle with his hard on nestled in the crease of Mingi’s ass, but he was hesitant to push that boundary. This isn’t a porno, Wooyoung-ah, he scolded himself.
But then he must have hit a particularly sensitive spot, because the noise Mingi emit lit his entire soul on fire. A whimpering, stuttering moan, loud enough to spark something primal and slightly exhibitionist in him. Fuck it, it could be a porno if you’d just make a move, he scolded anew, dropping his hips down as slowly and subtly as he could manage. That time, when Mingi’s eyes snapped open, they were anything but dazed.
Though he didn’t try to look back at Wooyoung, he did let out the sexiest whine yet, pushing his ass up against Wooyoung. Pressed this close, it was impossible to hide the way Wooyoung’s dick jerked at each noise Mingi made, but it was hard to be ashamed when it was so obvious Mingi was torn between grinding down against the bed and pushing harder back into Wooyoung. By then, he had uncrossed his arms from beneath his pillow and moved them to grip the sheets on either side of it, knuckles white from the force.
Emboldened by the way things were going, Wooyoung cautiously allowed himself to grind forward, dragging his cock across Mingi’s ass. Mingi groaned, eyes finally rolling to look back at Wooyoung. He took advantage of that to bite his lip in the most seductive way he could manage, rolling his hips again as they held eye contact. Enough, Wooyoung-ah, be direct for once. “Mingi-yah,” he rasped out. “What do you want?”
“I want- ah, will you fuck me? Please?” Mingi replied, lips dragging over the pillow where half of his face was still pressed against.
I fucking called it. “Oh, fuck yeah. Can I take these off, open you up just like this?” He tugged lightly at Mingi’s sweats, receiving a tight nod in response. Wooyoung worked his pants and underwear off with Mingi’s help, leaving Mingi completely naked on his stomach on the bed. He returned to that top drawer, triumphantly grabbing the lube he’d found before. When he settled back over Mingi, he couldn’t help pausing to admire the sight. “God, Mingi-yah, you look so good like this. Been wanting to do this for so long,” he confessed.
Mingi’s breath hitched nearly imperceptively, but the way he pushed his ass back to accentuate his curves was much less subtle. Wooyoung was absolutely delighted. “I was really hoping so. Always so flirty, can never tell if you’re being serious,” Mingi protested through a pout.
And that just wouldn’t do. Wooyoung frowned as his hands returned to Mingi’s skin, continuing where he left off before trailing lower to trace the curves of his ass and upper thighs. “It’s never been a joke with you, Mingi-yah,” he insisted, voice solemn. “You couldn’t tell? Always wanted you so badly.” He caressed his skin in a way he hoped conveyed even a fraction of his sincerity.
With the way Mingi pushed into his touch, voice taking on a whiny tone to complain, “Get on with it, then,” Wooyoung figured it had gotten through. He certainly didn’t need to be told twice, slicking up his fingers and watching with rapt attention as he pressed the first of them into Mingi. The sheets pulled taut from the way Mingi used his grip on them to arch his back, pushing his ass up in the process. Wooyoung hummed appreciatively.
Though he wasn’t quite coordinated enough to continue with the level of efficacy of his massage while his other hand worked Mingi open, he did what he could. He pressed the heel of his hand into the muscle with every pass upward along Mingi’s spine that his hand took. The effect was Mingi gasping, mouth hanging open, clenching around Wooyoung’s one finger as he slowly moved it in and out. He made a truly gorgeous picture. No sooner had the thought passed through his mind than he had to ask himself why he would ever keep it to himself now.
“Mingi-yah, baby, look at me,” he urged. When Mingi met his eyes, he bit his full lower lip and whined faintly. “Ah, so fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to see how amazing you look taking my cock,” he said, steadily increasing the pace and force of his finger as Mingi clenched again around it. As soon as he could, he added a second finger, painfully eager to be inside of him.
When he had worked his way up to three fingers, fucking him faster with them as Mingi writhed against the bed, Mingi had begun moaning out these desperate little “ah, ah, ah”s with each thrust. He must’ve been nearly as eager as Wooyoung, because his voice was desperate when he cried, “Woo, please, come on, I’m ready. I’ve been ready, hurry up.”
Wooyoung couldn’t help himself from leaning down to land a firm bite where his mouth fell somewhere by Mingi’s shoulder blade. The moan Mingi let out at the sting was honestly both enlightening and exciting. But Wooyoung wasn’t in the mood to delay this tonight, to further work him up, as appealing as the idea would usually feel to him. They had both been wanting this for so long, apparently. The idea sent a fresh thrill of excitement through him.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, mouth watering at the way Mingi’s hole clenched around nothing. “Can you turn over for me?” At Mingi’s answering nod as he began to attempt to comply, Wooyoung further pressed even as he lifted himself off of Mingi’s thighs, “You sure? It’s not gonna make your back worse?”
Mingi shot him a coy smile as he settled onto his back, Wooyoung nearly salivating at the sight of his huge and leaking cock as he helped to carefully tuck a pillow under his hips. Man, he really needed to test the idea of how Mingi felt about switching, for next time. “My back’s fine, Wooyoung-ah. I just needed a break from practice, and from suffering through the hell you’ve been apparently intentionally putting me through during them lately,” he said, a noticeable lack of guilt about the lie. “I didn’t think you’d offer to give me a massage, but now I’m glad I used that excuse.”
Wooyoung was impressed. “Wow, you’re even more shameless than me,” he said in wonderment. “Do you have condoms? That’s the only thing I didn’t see kept at the very front of the first drawer people would think to open,” he teasingly scolded.
Mingi apparently took the badge of shamelessness very seriously, if the straight-faced way he answered was any indication. “We’re both clean, just go raw,” he said evenly, before chuckling at the surprise on Wooyoung’s face. “What, like you don’t want to watch your come leak out of me after? I took you as more possessive than that, Wooyoung-ah,” he teased through a smirk. Wrapping his legs around Wooyoung, he nudged his heels into his lower back for emphasis. “Why are you still wearing so many clothes? Get naked and get inside of me.”
Wooyoung didn’t need to be told twice, nearly falling over in his haste to comply. He had already slicked up his cock before the idea struck him, silently berating himself for his oversight. The way he crawled over Mingi’s perfect body was nearly predatory, desperate to taste those gorgeous lips he’d only been fantasizing about for years. He gripped hard into the short hair at the back of Mingi’s head, kissing him with an intensity that Mingi met easily. Mingi only gasped into Wooyoung’s mouth when he pulled his hair in his excitement, allowing Wooyoung to deepen the kiss. Their kiss was overeager, wet and messy, and Wooyoung wanted nothing less.
When Mingi began to suck on Wooyoung’s tongue, tracing it with his own and wrapping those obscenely thick lips around it, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Hitching one of Mingi’s legs higher around his own hip, he reached down to line himself up. As he pressed himself inside, swallowed by the intense tight heat, Mingi was immediately responsive. His whole body seemed to clench tightly as Wooyoung bottomed out, mouth falling slack with a moan so loud and unexpectedly high-pitched that Wooyoung instantly decided he needed to hear it again.
Once Wooyoung began to move, Mingi’s attempts at keeping their kiss going became entirely futile. Instead, Wooyoung kissed and licked his way down Mingi’s jaw and neck, reveling in the sounds Mingi was breathing directly into his ear in that position. He doubled down on the force of each thrust, biting lightly at his throat as he coaxed the sweetest noises from Mingi.
Eventually, the heat of being pressed together became too much, and Wooyoung pulled back to kneel above Mingi. That changed the angle of his next thrust, seemingly for the better. Mingi arched off of the bed with a drawn out moan, his perfect cock leaking profusely where it bounced against his stomach. One of his hands was tugging at his own hair while the other clutched at the bedsheets for purchase, and the entire picture that Mingi made was going to drive Wooyoung to his breaking point. That was it, he was ruined for anything else after the vision that was Song Mingi.
Wooyoung trailed his hands over Mingi’s absolutely glorious thighs, gripping at the skin, considering. If Mingi’s back hadn’t really been hurting, there was no real need to be gentle, was there? He brought his arms underneath his thighs, arching an eyebrow at Mingi with a smirk. When Mingi’s eyes widened but he didn’t protest, Wooyoung used the position to lift Mingi’s hips fully off of the bed. He pressed his hands to the bed on either side of Mingi’s shoulders, Mingi nearly folded in half.
With the next roll of his hips, Mingi’s responding moans were high, staccato, desperate. His eyes rolled back in his head, a breathy chant of, “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung-ah,” falling from his lips. This was hands-down the hottest encounter of Wooyoung’s entire life, he marveled as he watched Mingi fall apart. With Mingi’s legs wrapped nearly around his shoulders, his fingers denting the flesh, he couldn’t help himself. On his next thrust, he bit hard on the only part of Mingi he could reach, sinking his teeth into Mingi’s inner thigh.
With a scream, Mingi came between them. Already so close to the edge, the way Mingi clamped tightly around him as he came was more than he could handle. Wooyoung came with a groan, lowering Mingi’s legs so he could watch with fascination the way he fucked his own come back into him. Mingi was right, holy shit, the idea was definitely the greatest accomplishment in Wooyoung’s possessive little life. Right next to the bruise in the shape of Wooyoung’s teeth blooming just above his knee. The thought that Mingi owned some pairs of shorts he wouldn’t be able to wear in public without showing it off was a close third. Maybe he could convince him to still wear them around the dorm, as a treat.
After he had pulled out, Wooyoung collapsed onto Mingi, cuddling into his side. “That was absolutely amazing and I am so down to fuck you again literally any time or day of the week, but could I also humbly request you fucking me with that big dumb thing at least once or twice?”
Mingi snorted, still catching his breath. “That could be arranged,” he agreed with a smile, eyes closed.
Wooyoung suddenly remembered Mingi’s phone was still on the bed just above his pillow, and the assumption he’d made when he first entered the room. “Did I almost catch you watching porn when I came in here earlier?” His tone was less suspicious, more delighted. “You seemed a little flustered from the moment I got here. Oh! Did I almost catch you jerking off?”
Mingi looked a little caught out, eyes wide. “No! I wasn’t doing either,” he insisted. “I was watching a video,” at Wooyoung’s widening smile and raised eyebrows, he firmly reiterated, “not porn.”
Wooyoung was curious by nature, and with very little in the way of boundaries. So when he snatched Mingi’s phone from the bed and scooted to the other end to input Mingi’s passcode, Mingi didn’t seem particularly offended, if only haunted and a bit resigned. As soon as the phone was unlocked, the video Mingi had been playing resumed, volume low.
“Holy shit,” Wooyoung breathed. “Holy shit! You were all shy and flustered from watching a playlist of my fancams? This is the best day of my entire life. No competition. Nothing else will ever come close.”
Mingi groaned, hands over his face. Wooyoung’s smile softened slightly. The true best part was that he didn’t have to fight with himself to overcome the urge to shower Mingi in giggling kisses, so he did just that.