Chapter Text
San woke around 6am. His backside and head ached and he was slightly disoriented. What had happened?
He vaguely remembered the dance and having too many drinks. He remembered dancing with Mingi and coming back to the room…
The night flashed before his eyes.
Shared breaths, harsh thrusts, Mingi moaning his name as he came on San. San coming with Mingi inside of him. It was all a hazy blur.
San eyed the man snoring next to him. Mingi was naked and sprawled out on the bed, his hand resting on San’s chest. San felt like he might throw up.
He had slept with Mingi.
Of all the stupid things he could have done, this was the worst.
Carefully removing himself from the bed, he silently headed to the bathroom and filled the tub. He sank into scalding hot water, hoping it would wash some of the pain away. He could still hear Mingi’s snores as he washed the previous night’s evidence away.
He didn’t regret it. It wasn’t that.
He regretted not remembering all of it. He regretted not being a more active participant. Moreover, he feared Mingi would regret it. That work would be worse than ever for both of them.
He sat in the hot water until it was tepid, then dried himself with a towel. He dressed and packed his things silently, hoping to avoid Mingi all together. He couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when he realized what they had done.
All of this effort and he still would have to find a new place to work. How could he stay at Coleman & Grace and face Mingi every day? How could he stand eyes staring at him full of hatred, this time his own fault?
San sent out a text to his job recruiter, asking him to put out feelers for a new position. He didn’t list why.
Mingi rounded the corner wrapped in a blanket as San was packing.
“Just going to bail, huh?” Mingi snapped, eyeing San’s suitcase. He looked confused and pissed off.
“It’s not like that Min,” he sighed. It was exactly like that. But how was he supposed to tell Mingi that he was letting him go?
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Look,” San’s hands came up in a faux defeat. “Last night shouldn’t have happened and you know it.”
“Shouldn’t have happened?” he repeated. “So it was a mistake?”
San gave a barely perceptible nod. “Just a mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me,” Mingi’s voice was low.
“God damn it, Min,” San sighed, dropping items half haphazardly into his suitcase. “I’m trying to save our jobs here!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, taking a step closer. San’s eyes followed the exposed flesh that the blanket left on display and felt his mouth go dry.
“It means we can’t be on the same team and be fucking each other.”
Mingi blinked at him. This was all over a stupid job. One that started this mess and was becoming less important by the minute. He dropped the blanket from around his hips, letting it puddle on the floor. San swallowed.
“Tell me you don’t want me,” Mingi rasped, taking another step closer, his eyes never leaving San’s. San began to back up.
“I don’t want you,” his voice quivered. He was already half hard under his towel. Mingi let out a sarcastic chuckle.
“Now say it like you mean it.”
San found himself pinned against the door mirror with no way to escape. Mingi brought his arms up to cage San’s head, just like the night before. San inhaled sharply, feeling the heat radiating off of Mingi’s skin. Mingi leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the underside of San’s chin.
“Say it,” he demanded, his lips moving against San’s flesh. San’s hands found Mingi’s chest. He gently pressed against him, but Mingi would budge. His lips continued to nip San’s delicate skin, working toward his throat.
“I can’t,” San finally exhaled. He buried his hands in Mingi’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss. There was aggression in the action, like he knew it was wrong but didn’t care. Like he was fighting his own inner demons for control, but losing.
Mingi met him with just as much passion, his lower lip dragging along San’s. San moaned into him. His arms intertwined around Mingi’s neck and his towel slid to the floor with a quiet whoosh.
Mingi pressed him against the mirror, his hands coming up to cup San’s face. He maneuvered San this way and that, deepening the kiss as far as he could. His tongue licked into San’s mouth, devouring him like a delicious cake. He could still taste hints of it from the night before. San sucked on Mingi’s tongue, causing the taller man to roll his body against him. San could feel how hard Mingi already was, as the barbells of his shaft pressed against his hip.
San’s hands ventured down to Mingi’s pecs, giving the meaty flesh a firm squeeze. Mingi pressed his swollen brow against San’s, pushing with enough force to make the area bleed, but it didn’t. He looked San in the eye as his nipples were stroked, a low groan pulling from his chest.
“Fuck me,” Mingi rasped against San. San looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“I want you to fuck me,” Mingi repeated, pressing his erection harder against San’s hip. “Prove to me that last night wasn’t the mistake you claim.”
Mingi took San’s hand from his chest and trailed it down his slender stomach to his cock. San wrapped his hand around the swollen shaft and gave it an experimental tug. Mingi let out a guttural groan.
San brought his hand up to his mouth and spit into it before wrapping his hand back around Mingi. His thumb collected the dollop of precum at the tip of his shaft, making the glide of his fist that much easier. San’s thumb ran over the barbells lining the base of the shaft. Mingi’s breaths came in clips of pants as the pleasure of San’s hand spread through his belly.
He leaned in and captured San’s lips, his tongue immediately prodding into the shorter man’s mouth. Mingi moaned into San’s mouth as he continued to stroke him, his hips bucking in time with the movement.
Though caged in, San was able to drop to his knees. Still stroking Mingi’s cock, he poked his tongue out to kitten lick the tip with every pacing of his hand. Mingi’s groan reverberated through him as San let his hand slide down and he took more of Mingi into his mouth. Mingi’s hips continued to buck of their own accord, causing his cockhead to hit the back of San’s throat. San barely gagged before he was bobbing his head with renewed want. His tongue slid along the underside, toying with the metal piercings, before tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side of Mingi’s shaft.
Mingi’s hand gripped his hair, egging him on as San continued to make work of his cock. He could feel the tightening in his balls and knew his end was near. He tapped San’s shoulder, but San ignored him, doubling down his efforts. His wrist expertly twisted as his tongue laved the thick cock in his mouth, and within a minute, Mingi was coming down his throat, San’s name a whine on his lips. He tasted salty and musky, with a hint of mango.
Mingi was busy reeling from his high as San kissed his way up his body. His tongue licked and suckled the skin of Mingi’s torso. He stopped and swiped his tongue over a nipple, earning his hair a slight pull.
“I’m a little sensitive at the moment,” Mingi said through his teeth. San swiped the other nipple and chuckled when his hair was pulled again. He kissed up the sensitive stretch of Mingi’s throat until they landed on his lips. Cupping the side of Mingi’s face, he slowly kissed him. His mouth was exploring but unhurried, his tongue stroking all of the right spots. Mingi could taste himself on San’s tongue.
“Still want me to fuck you?” San whispered as he pulled back to nip Mingi’s chin.
“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice low, his cock surprisingly half mast. San led him over to the bathtub.
“Grip the tub,” he ordered. Mingi leaned forward and watched as San grabbed a bottle of conditioner from the hotel’s stash. His cock bobbed between his legs, with a swollen angry flush. Precum dripped from his tip. San caught it on his fingertips. He uncapped the conditioner and upended it, adding a generous dollop to his cum laden fingers.
Mingi felt as San pressed up against him. San kicked his legs further apart and stood behind him. With his other hand on Mingi’s lower back, San spread the conditioner concoction against Mingi’s pink hole. Mingi gasped at the cold, his hole fluttering at the sensation. San continued to massage the concoction against his skin to warm it, before pressing two fingers into Mingi’s hole. Mingi bucked forward. San massaged tiny circles along Mingi’s lower spine, his fingers inching forward into his tight channel. He whispered low words of praise, trying to get Mingi to relax.
White knuckling the tub, Mingi pushed back until San’s fingers bottomed out inside of him. He let out a breath he had been holding. San leaned over and kissed his shoulder as he slowly removed his fingers.
“We don’t have to do this,” San murmured, his fingers breaching and pushing forth again. Mingi let out a whimper, his eyes finding San’s in the mirror behind the tub.
“I want you,” he breathed. San picked up the pace of his fingers, stroking Mingi’s walls and pausing to scissor them apart. The new sensation had Mingi rock hard and throbbing again. He could only imagine how eager San was. But here he was, taking his time.
San slipped in a third finger and resumed working Mingi open. Mingi’s hands were almost numb from gripping the edge of the tub. He groaned with every thrust of San’s fingers, feeling as fingertips lazily pressed against his prostate.
San removed his hands, wiping his cock with the conditioner. He grabbed the bottle and added more, making sure he was thoroughly coated.
“Steady yourself,” he exhaled through his teeth, grabbing Mingi by his hips. Mingi could feel San’s cock pressing against him. He was going slow, being patient. Mingi didn’t have that in him.
With a swift thrust back he took all of San in one go. Both men groaned as San’s hips smacked against Mingi’s perfectly round ass. San smacked a globe, watching as it jiggled. Mingi cursed under his breath.
“So impatient, jagiya,” San chuckled. Mingi began to move himself on San’s cock, enjoying the feeling of the drag of skin inside of him. San hissed and snapped his hips forward. Mingi tightened around him, pulling another hiss from the man behind him. San wanted to set a steady pace, to drag it out, but Mingi was already torturing him.
Slamming his hips into Mingi, San set a brutal pace. The room filled with the sounds of harsh panting and skin smacking. Mingi held onto the tub like his life depended on it. Noticing Mingi’s struggle, San snaked an arm around his torso, grabbing him by the throat. He pulled Mingi back flush against him and held him in place, his hand like a collar at the base of Mingi’s neck. With one hand on his waist, San worked Mingi on his cock.
Mingi moaned and grabbed for his own throbbing member. He began tugging his shaft in time with the snap of San’s hips, pleasuring himself to the feeling and sounds San elicited. San tightened his grip, his pace swiftly increasing. He pounded Mingi mercilessly, until his previously spent cock was spurting cum into the bathtub. San moaned at the sight and gently bit Mingi’s neck. He came with his teeth lightly embedded in Mingi, filling him to the brim. San fucked him until he was sure he was drained dry.
Mingi fell back against San’s chest, exhausted but sated. San held him up, stroking Mingi’s sweaty hair from his forehead. As he continued to occasionally pulse in Mingi, his lips littered his neck with kisses. Mingi let out a contented sigh.
“I wouldn’t have forgiven you if you’d left without a word, you know,” Mingi’s voice was barely a whisper. San exhaled against his skin.
“I know.”
“So why were you leaving?”
“I meant what I said before,” San sighed again, holding his cock base to remove himself from Mingi. Cum began to run down his legs. San leaned forward and rinsed out the tub before filling it again. Mingi watched him, his eyes sad.
“Why can’t we work together?”
“Because we will always put the other before the job,” San stated it as a fact. One he figured Mingi would have thought of already and regretted the night before. But this morning proved it would never be a one off. They would continue to want each other.
“Think about it,” Mingi countered. “The closer we are the easier it will be to work together.”
San looked at him, truly looked at him. Mingi’s eyes were so full of hope, of adoration. How could he break this man’s heart? He didn’t want to. But he had already put in requests for a new job.
“We can always come home to each other and discuss our day,” San offered. Mingi shook his head.
“I don’t want another partner.”
San remained unusually quiet.
He helped Mingi into the tub, making sure he wouldn’t slip. Then he left the room to grab the med kit. Their vigorous round of sex had caused the wound over Mingi’s eye to ooze. San’s foot wasn’t fairing much better.
As Mingi sat in belly deep hot water, he watched as San carefully pulled out supplies to replace his sterile bandaging.
“I never did fill out that paperwork,” Mingi mumbled, as San dabbed his brow. San let out a low chuckle.
“I did it for you.”
Mingi looked up at him, his expression unreadable. San applied antibiotic ointment then lay sterile strips across the cut.
“It should heal in a few more days, if you quit busting it open it,” San announced. He sat on the edge of the tub and began treating his foot.
“It was worth it,” Mingi gave him a small smile. Discarding the kit, San sank into the water behind Mingi, causing the tub to nearly overflow. He delicately shampooed and conditioned Mingi’s hair, using his nails to scratch the man’s scalp. He used a washrag to help clean Mingi’s back. Mingi turned in the water to face him, intent on returning the favor.
San moaned at the feeling of nails on his scalp. Mingi filed that new found information away for later. He was dead set on there being a later for them. This couldn’t be the end.
He hummed to himself as he massaged shampoo into San’s hair, as he brushed conditioner through his strands with his fingers, as he washed his tanned skin with soap.
Both men emerged sometime later, pruney and almost late to their communal breakfast. Quickly dressing, they headed down the stairs. Chris was waiting for them outside of the banquet room doors. Mingi headed inside as Chris beckoned San over.
“You lied to me,” he smiled knowingly, watching Mingi disappear. San raised an eyebrow at the man. “Felix and I stopped by to get you for breakfast.”
San felt himself pale.
“You two sounded quite busy.”
“We hooked up last night,” San whispered. “And this morning.”
Chris let out a hearty laugh and clapped San on the back. “Sounds like couples therapy worked out for you after all.”
With a sheepish grin San followed Chris to their table. On the way there, San stopped a waiter and made a request. The waiter nodded and went on his way.
Breakfast was another buffet procession, followed by a speech from Denise. She had her little dog propped on her hip again. This time it was forced into a small pink dress.
“Denise and Pepper again,” she announced, a huge smile on her face. “We’ve heard so many good things about your experiences here at Sensei Lana’i Couples Retreat! While there was an incident with one couple”-she looked pointedly at a group in the audience- “everyone else has exceeded expectations. Thank you so much for choosing Sensei Lana’i Couples Resort and please enjoy your breakfast!”
With that, tables began to form lines at the buffet. San and Mingi were stuck in fifth place again. While waiting, Chris pulled out his phone. He handed it to San.
“Give me your numbers,” he asked politely. “We would love to stay in touch. Maybe you could visit Australia one day!”
San typed their numbers into Chris’s phone and handed it back.
“You’re always welcome to come see us in South Korea as well,” San smiled. Mingi rose as it was time for their table to proceed. An alarm on his hip began to blare. Without a word, San headed to the drink station and grabbed as many orange juices as he could carry. Back at the table he handed Mingi a juice.
“Thanks,” Mingi eyed him, that unreadable expression returning. He downed the juice handed to him and reached for another. San cleared his throat.
“Stay here. I will go make us some plates.”
San returned shortly with plates piled high with food. He made sure to grab Mingi a waffle.
After breakfast and exchanging goodbyes with new friends (“Here’s our numbers!” Momo exclaimed, sliding a napkin to Mingi.), the pair made their way back to the hotel room. As soon as the door was closed, San pinned Mingi to the door. He reached for his hip glucometer and read it: 158. That was good.
With a sigh he leaned into Mingi. Mingi wrapped his arms around him.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I know,” San mumbled into his chest. “I’m just glad I know how to help now. But what set it off?”
Pink dusted Mingi’s cheeks. “We exerted a lot of energy before eating.”
San blushed as well. With a quick, chaste peck to Mingi’s lips, San entered the hotel room to resume packing. Mingi began to gather his things. It was already close to 9:00am. They had less than two hours before check out.
Mingi made for the med kit bag and grabbed pain killers. He brought them over to San.
“Take these, so we can take one last walk on the beach,” he said, depositing the pills into San’s hand. San downed them with a cup of sink water.
“Sure you’re not trying to poison me?” San joked, his eyes creasing in amusement. Mingi laughed along with him.
“Nah. I will think of some other way to kill you.”
That other way arose as they made their way along the ocean. They had been pleasantly strolling through the cool sand as Mingi received an email alert on his phone. It was from his boss.
“You put in for a transfer?” Mingi snapped, staring at his phone. San paused and stared at him.
“I did that before we talked.”
Mingi angrily shoved his phone in his pocket and turned heel, heading back to the villa. San called after him, but Mingi stayed his course. San cursed and kicked the sand. His injured foot came into contact with a deeply embedded shell. He yelled in frustration and pain. Blood poured from his foot, soaking the sand around him. A nearby lifeguard overheard his scream and came running.
“Let’s get you to medical,” he said, putting San’s shoulder around his. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Watching Mingi’s back disappear into the hotel, San shook his head.
“No. I’m alone.”
*
San arrived at the airport later than intended but still early. He was hobbling on crutches, his foot having required eight stitches this time. San wrangled his carryon so that it wasn’t strangling him and visited a small kiosk. He picked up a few snacks and drinks for the ten hour flight back home.
Once his bag was as loaded down as possible, he headed for the departure gate. Mingi was already sitting there. He had his laptop open and headphones in. San took a seat across from him, but didn’t try to get his attention. Instead he pulled out his phone, looking to see if his recruiter had responded at all. He had an interview set for Wednesday afternoon, the day after they would arrive home. He also submitted his injury form to his firm.
He was in the middle of scrolling through job sites when Mingi finally spoke up.
“The fuck do you need crutches for?” he asked, glowering at the apparatuses on the floor. San didn’t even look up from his phone.
“Don’t act like you care now.”
San glanced up at their gate information board. Only ten minutes until their plane arrived. Only ten minutes before he would board first and be able to prop his foot up and take stronger pain killers. He could feel Mingi’s eyes boring into the top of his head. He pulled headphones from his bag and put on hard rock, blaring out anything the other man may have said.
The plane arrived on time. Given his need for crutches, San was allowed to board first. Mingi offered to help but San shrugged him off. Instead, he pressed a small black take away box into Mingi’s chest. Mingi took it and watched as San disappeared down the ramp. He popped the lid open and found the sponge cake he loved inside. His heart dropped in his chest.
San had thought of him even after he had abandoned him. Even after he somehow got hurt.
Fuck, he was an asshole.
As soon as San boarded he popped the Vicodin he was given and iced his foot as instructed. He didn’t wait to see Mingi board. He shot a quick text to his boss, asking him to defer the transfer request. Coleman sent back a thumbs up.
Mingi got on the plane shortly after San did. He found the man curled up on his side, his bandaged foot propped up on pillows. He reached out to touch him but pulled back. Whatever happened to San was probably his fault. It was no wonder he was ignoring him.
The stewardess came by a few hours into the flight to get dinner orders.
San didn’t order, claiming he wasn’t hungry. Mingi did the same, only ordering an amaretto sour. If he couldn’t talk his feelings out, he could drink them.
The stewardess came by with a second amaretto sour for Mingi. He downed it in two gulps and asked for a third. She nodded and headed down the cabin. While San snored softly from his side of the plane, Mingi gave himself a shot of insulin to counter the sugar of the alcohol. The stewardess arrived shortly after with the third drink and let him know it would be his last alcoholic beverage.
“We can’t have you drunk on our plane,” she said, cheerfully.
Mingi nodded and threw the drink back. She took the empty glass and headed back up the cabin way.
Around six hours into the flight, San woke to the shrieking of an alarm. Mingi was passed out next to him, asleep.
“Min, your sugar,” he croaked, his voice tired from sleep. Mingi didn’t budge. San carefully stood up and shook Mingi.
“You need to eat something. Your blood sugar is 32,” he yelled. Mingi still didn’t budge. San felt himself begin to hyperventilate. Mingi wasn’t asleep, he was actually unconscious.
Flagging down the stewardess, he asked for as many juices and sugar packets as she could carry. He engaged Mingi’s seatbelt to keep him upright then sat his seat up. Mingi slumped over. The stewardess returned and began uncapping the orange juices. The pair worked in tandem, dumping sugar packets into each bottle.
San leaned Mingi back and smacked him in the face. Mingi roused, barely. San titled his head back and forced sugar laden orange juice down his throat.
“Drink, god damn it!” San shouted at him, frustrated. He had never been this careless about his sugar in the past.
Mingi swallowed what had been poured into his mouth. San continued to dump bottle after bottle of juice down Mingi’s throat until he became responsive. As soon as life lit up his eyes, San reeled back and punched him. Mingi’s brow busted open and blood flooded his eye.
“What the fuck?” he gasped, grabbing his head. The stewardess sighed and disappeared to get cloth and medical supplies.
“That’s for doing a shit job of taking care of your blood sugar,” San snapped, before taking his seat. He unbandaged his foot to find he had torn his stitches when he stood. Cursing, he pulled off his black shirt and held it to his foot.
“You can press charges if you want,” the stewardess informed him as she bandaged Mingi’s head and handed him an ice pack.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mingi muttered, looking at her with his good eye.
San’s body silently shook on his side. The stewardess handed him some bandages.
“I’m sorry,” Mingi winced at both his head and the sight of San’s foot. “What happened?”
“Your sugar was too low,” San answered, dabbing his foot. “Again.”
“No. To you.”
San let out an empty laugh through tears. “After you stormed off I accidentally kicked a shell and split my foot open. Not that you care.”
“Of course I care!” Mingi all but shouted. San looked up at him, his eyes full of rage but still watering.
“If you care, then eat that damn cake of yours and get your sugar up. I don’t want another incident during this flight.”
Holding his bandages from the flight attendant to his foot, San laid back down, facing away from Mingi.
Mingi ate his cake as hot tears streamed down his face. It tasted sweet.
It tasted fruity and a little floral.
It tasted like regret.
Mingi saved a small portion for San, then curled up into his cubicle. Tears continued to silently freefall as he faced a stranger. San was going to leave and it was all his fault.
*
The flight went without further issue. There was no turbulence, no more blood sugar issues, no words spoken between the men. San was wheeled off the plane and taken to the airport’s medical bay to have his foot checked. He was given another incident form to complete once he was discharged. Mingi waited for him with an Uber, but watched as San hobbled to his own. He didn’t even look for Mingi.
Mingi quietly cried the whole way home. Just that morning things had been perfect. Now they were back to square one. He decided he would look for a new job when he got back to work. There was no reason San should have to stay and work with someone he hated, or worse, leave Coleman & Grace. Maybe Mingi could use his connections to get a decent transfer.
Tuesday morning came too fast in radio silence.
San was already in the office with his foot propped up on a chair, when Mingi showed up for work. San didn’t look away from his computer. As Mingi sat down, he saw his duck mug waiting on his desk, full of hot coffee. He glanced over at San, unsure of what to say. Before he could get a word out, Thomas exited his office. For once he didn’t look on the verge of murder.
A receptionist stepped out of his office and both stopped before San’s desk. San looked up at his boss.
“Your hard work on this case has paid off,” Thomas smiled. “The opposing counsel is willing to settle.”
San was speechless. The majority of a year’s work had truly paid off.
“I’m glad you rescinded your wishes to leave us,” Thomas continued.
Mingi’s eyes fell on San. San was blushing.
“Thank you, sir.”
“As for the pair of you, I have heard good things about his weekend. I knew if you two knuckleheads could talk it out you would be fine.”
San’s eyes finally met Mingi’s. He looked sad. He noticed the swollen eye tissue near Mingi’s cut and swallowed. He averted his gaze. His knuckles still ached from hitting him. Based on Thomas’s reaction to their return, Mingi hadn’t mentioned the incident.
Thomas disappeared back into his office along with his secretary. As the office door closed, Mingi opened a computer browser and placed an order. Just before noon, a large bouquet of flowers appeared at their door. Mingi got up and ushered the florist inside.
“Flowers for a Choi San,” she read off the card. San raised his hand and made room on his desk. A beautiful bouquet of orchids sat at the corner. He pulled the tiny card from the bouquet.
Proud of you,
-Min
San looked up at Mingi, his eyes gleaming. Before he could thank him, Mingi spoke.
“I will leave the firm.”
San’s mouth went dry. What was Mingi talking about?
“Our vacation went well,” San countered. “ I already rescinded my transfer. Neither of us have to leave.”
“You think how I treated you was good?” Mingi sounded appalled. “I treated you like shit and took advantage of you. And you had to baby me the entire trip. It’s best if I just go.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” San glowered at him. “You’re just running away. Like I tried to.”
Mingi felt his face turning red. He wasn’t sure if it was out of shame or anger. Maybe a bit of both. Thomas exited his office again before Mingi could reply.
“Cassndra and I are off to a business lunch. Please try not to kill each other when I’m gone,” he joked. Thomas’s secretary was hot on his heels out of the office. San and Mingi were finally alone.
Mingi stalked over and sat on the corner of San’s desk near the flowers, keeping his voice low. “You will probably get a promotion from this. It’s better if you’re the one to stay.”
“Mingi, you’re not leaving.”
“I should.”
“Well you’re not.”
“Give me one good reason,” he crossed his arms across his chest. San felt fire licking his veins.
“Because I want you.”
“You want me to what?” Mingi countered. “To stay? To go? To fuck off and die? What?”
“I want you,” San repeated. Mingi suddenly flushed under his words. “And I don’t want anyone else as my partner. Whether we fuck or fight. I want you to stay. But moreover, I want you.”
Mingi fidgeted with the stapler on San’s desk. “You want me?”
“Yes.”
“Like that morning?”
“And that night,” San answered. He stood and hobbled around his desk until his chest was flush with Mingi’s.
“Stay.”
Mingi felt tears prickling the corner of his eyes. It was all he wanted to do.
“Only if you do.”
“Deal,” San smiled up at him. His toothy grin was encased by hungry lips as Mingi backed him against the desk. Hands cupped his face, his ass hitting the desk top. San moaned into Mingi’s mouth as his hands came up to hold Mingi’s face. A pointed cough brought them out of their private trance. Cassandra had quietly reentered the office.
“I forgot some paperwork,” she said, her face a little pink. “And so you know, Mr. Coleman’s private office is very…spacious for activities.”
With a wink she flounced into Coleman’s office and back out, leaving San pinned to the desk to hide Mingi’s erection. Mingi scooped San up and carried him to his boss’s office. He closed and locked the door, before walking him over to a cushy couch. He carefully placed San on the navy cushions. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over San’s. San breathed him in. He smelled like musk and peaches.
“Sit back and watch,” Mingi’s voice came out gruffly. San propped himself up, eager for what was to happen. Mingi began unbuttoning the front of his vest. As he reached the last button, he slid the vest off his shoulders. He deposited it onto the desk.
He reached for his shirt buttons next. He worked tantalizingly slow, caressing each button before popping it through the cotton material. San watched with bated breath as more and more skin was revealed. His hands itched to touch him. Mingi pulled his dress shirt from his trousers, slid it down his arms and placed it on the desk.
San whimpered at the sight of Mingi’s muscles rippling.
Mingi reached for the waistband of his pants. With a deft flick of the wrist, he had his pants undone. He shucked off his shoes and socks, grabbed the waistband of his boxers, and pulled both sets of clothing off. He stood before San naked. San was practically salivating at the sight.
San made quick work of his own shirt, throwing it in the direction of the desk. He tried to ease his pants down his thighs, but the bandage on his foot made finding purchase on the couch less than ideal. Mingi stepped over, easing the clothes down to his calves.
“You don’t need to be more naked than that, right now,” Mingi smirked. He grabbed Lubiderm off his boss’s desk and coated Sans’ cock. Mingi was already still stretched from his morning’s tryst with his hands.
Throwing a leg over San, Mingi straddled his cock where it was leaking onto his belly. Mingi leaned down to lick up the precum with a hum. San twitched underneath him.
Mingi held San firmly and eased his ass over San’s cockhead. He smeared the lotion onto himself before pressing San’s thick member inside of him. He used gravity to pull him down, and he slowly sank onto San with a drawn out groan.
San exhaled as his hips met Mingi’s ass.
Placing his hands on San’s sturdy chest, Mingi gave an experimental roll of his hips. He could still feel the delicious burn from this morning as his wall stretched to accommodate San’s length. Mingi bounced again with a whimper, the cool metal on his cock tapping against San’s stomach. San’s warm hands quickly found purchase around his waist, holding him in place. Foot be damned, San planted his feet on the couch as best as he could and began to drill into Mingi. Mingi gasped above him.
San pistoned into him, his cock hitting Mingi’s prostate hard and fast. San groaned and Mingi clenched around him. One particular stroke against his prostate had Mingi seeing stars. He reached down and stroked his cock, chasing the orgasm he was teetering on. With a cry, he shot cum up San’s chest, his hand milking his hard cock empty.
San continued to buck up into him, until finally his pace faltered, and he came with a groan. He filled Mingi without much consideration. But the thought of him sitting there all day with his cum in him was incredibly hot.
Mingi rode San through his orgasm, watching his face contort into utter pleasure. Mingi leaned down into his own mess to kiss San stupid.
“Now what?” Mingi asked, as he collapsed on top of San. San brushed his hair from his forehead.
“We hide our relationship for now.”
“What if we break up?”
“I guess one of us would have to leave,” San said, sadly. “But let’s not think like that. If we do the counseling like we talked about, this could really work.”
“Even outside of work?” Mingi asked, hopeful. San chuckled.
“Even outside of work.”
Mingi paused for a minute, enjoying the feeling of San’s fingers in his hair and hearing his heart beat in his chest.
“You know this firm could be ours one day,” he said, drawing circles on San’s chest.
“Is that so?” San answered, stroking a hand down Mingi’s back. “Choi & Song does have a nice ring to it.”
“Hell no. Song & Choi.”
San laughed hard, and Mingi joined in, too.
As they cleaned up and redressed, they heard the one thing that every person having sex in their boss’s office dreads hearing: the elevator ding open.