Chapter Text
As soon as Mingyu steps foot inside the gym, boxing gloves flung over his shoulder, he can physically feel the grimace settling into his features.
One would assume to find the place empty, on a Sunday night near the closing hour. Manage to do a quick workout in preparation for tomorrow's tournament – it's just a small charity event, but still. When Mingyu steps on the ring, he always wants to make sure he's in his best condition.
And yet, here it is, Jeon Wonwoo lightly hopping on the ring, throwing air punches, and Mingyu can kiss goodbye to his peaceful little training session.
Not that Wonwoo is ever going to actively disturb him. Even now, when he catches a glimpse of Mingyu, he only raises his chin up in acknowledgment with his usual unbothered look.
It's just... the sight of him, that makes Mingyu's blood boil in his veins.
Despite getting into boxing a little later than Mingyu, Wonwoo is one of the very few fighters that can give him a hard time on the ring, and the only one who can get on his nerves, which are relatively calm most of the time.
Having mentally appointed him as his rival, his athletic arch-nemesis, Mingyu religiously keeps track of their fights, be it official matches or some training sparring at the gym. Wonwoo won their last fight, so Mingyu is currently two wins under, and Wonwoo – with all the pretense of being cool and aloof – definitely knows it, given the complacent smirk he has had on his face since that day. Wonwoo might not be as vocal as Mingyu about their rivalry, but Mingyu knows his feeling is reciprocated. The fire in Wonwoo's eyes whenever they are on the ring, facing each other? He doesn't get it with anybody else.
Jihoon, his trainer, thinks Mingyu's borderline-obsessive behavior is creepy and slightly concerning, but, since Wonwoo appeared, Mingyu's improvement has been quick and terrific, so Jihoon doesn't complain much and silently endures it when Mingyu goes on yet another rant about his number one enemy.
How would Jihoon look at him, if he knew that Mingyu is at the gym on a Sunday night because he wants to be at his best for a silly little event, only because he knows Wonwoo will be there too?
He scoffs, not bothering to answer his own question and going up on the other free ring to start his warm-up.
He purposefully turns his back to Wonwoo, so that he won't even see him. On most days, when the gym is full of other people chatting and training, this is the best course of action to tune out Wonwoo's presence. But now, with the space completely empty if not for the two of them, it turns out to be completely ineffective: even if Mingyu can't see Wonwoo, he can clearly hear him behind himself. His quick breathing, the light movements of his feet.
Begrudgingly, as an automatic reaction, Mingyu turns with the intention to glare, and he's lucky that Wonwoo isn't looking at him, because otherwise he wouldn't miss the awe – infuriating, annoying – that quickly peeks through Mingyu's eyes as he unintentionally admires Wonwoo's perfect form.
Despite being smaller in size than Mingyu, Wonwoo has always made up for it with speed and the lightness of his feet. And maybe it's because their styles are so different – Mingyu relying more on his strength and size and on his innate athleticism – but sometimes Mingyu can't help but stare at Wonwoo fighting, at his technique.
For study purposes, of course.
Mingyu is about to force himself to turn his back to Wonwoo again, when he notices something that makes him choke on his spit.
What the actual fuck, Jeon Wonwoo.
How Mingyu hasn't noticed immediately is a testament on how much Wonwoo's mere presence makes his brain go haywire.
Wonwoo is wearing shorts. Shorts that are way shorter than the usual boxing clothes, going way up the knees and showing most of Wonwoo's slim, pale thighs. They stop just below his butt, Mingyu realizes while slightly starting to panic. They also are not thought for training, being way too short and impractical and is that denim?
Mingyu hastily turns on his feet, this time well-decided on not looking at Wonwoo for the rest of the night. His face is burning.
What got into him? Wonwoo isn't really a guy who pays much attention to fashion and to how he's dressed in general, especially at the gym, where Mingyu has often seen him wearing old, battered clothes. He also doesn't really like showing skin, preferring short-sleeved t-shirts over tank tops, contrary to Mingyu, who enjoys his side tank tops a little too much (Jihoon's words). For Wonwoo to suddenly show so much skin...
His legs are so long. What the fuck.
Mingyu resumes his training, revising his favorite combinations and working on his footwork. Or, well, he attempts to, his mind periodically swarmed by unwanted images of long, lean legs and a pair of dark, bored eyes fixed on him. He sends a thankful prayer to every entity in the sky when, after about thirty minutes of this farce, he finally hears silence, followed by Wonwoo's steps as he enters the changing room.
Suddenly finding easier to breathe, Mingyu lets out a long exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing. He has no intention of staying there any longer – this pretense of a workout being way more tiring than a real one – but at the same time he doesn't want to follow Wonwoo right away. As if Mingyu was waiting for him. As if he couldn't bear to leave the gym before Wonwoo.
So, he waits for a couple of minutes before entering the changing room himself, half-expecting to find Wonwoo under the shower or, even better, ready to leave. Instead, Wonwoo is still in the room, and still with those fucking shorts. He changed his t-shirt, though, so he might have taken the quickest shower ever.
Mingyu averts his eyes and smoothly goes to his bag, randomly rummaging into it. Honestly, he's done such a poor job that he doesn't even need to wash up immediately. That's it, he's going to shower at home so that he can run away now.
Being the menace that he is, of course Wonwoo has other plans. Leave it to him, to ignore Mingyu's existence for the whole time and then talk to him right when Mingyu only wants to go home.
“Done already?”
At the sound of his voice, Mingyu automatically turns his head, finding Wonwoo watching him with that annoying, amused gaze of his. He wonders if he noticed Mingyu's poor excuse of a training routine.
“You are done too,” he mutters, even if he himself knows that it's a stupid answer.
Wonwoo seems to think the same, his head tilted on one side mockingly. “I am, but I came here earlier.”
Mingyu feels himself blush and he hates it. He's usually able to get back at Wonwoo, both with his fists and with his words, but there are times, like now, where his brain turns off completely and he can only hear the blood rushing inside his veins. The tingling of his every nerve.
“That only means I don't need to work that hard, to beat you tomorrow.”
Oh, that's a rebut Mingyu can be proud of. Well, could. Because Wonwoo doesn't seem fazed by his smart reply in the slightest, his smirk as infuriating as ever.
“Your wins record against me says otherwise.”
And—that's it. Mingyu snaps before Wonwoo has even finished talking, slamming him against the lockers and shutting him up by capturing his poisonous lips with his own.
The point is. While people around them are perfectly aware of their rivalry – how could they not – the thing they don't know is that Mingyu and Wonwoo have been regularly fucking for months.
If somebody thinks about it, it explains a lot of things. At first, when Wonwoo showed up at the gym and started collecting victories after victories at every tournament, beating Mingyu more than once and generally being an insidious opponent, Mingyu wasn't so chill about his animosity towards him.
Jihoon – and many others – would say their rivalry isn't quite healthy even now, especially on Mingyu's side, with his tendency to over-focus on Wonwoo's every action, but back then... it was way worse. It wasn't pretty.
Mingyu, usually an easy-going and gentle guy, would suddenly feel angry anytime Wonwoo was mentioned, getting worse when they were in the same room. Which, given that they trained at the same gym, was more often than not. Wonwoo, too, wasn't so good at being unflappable as he is now, completely incapable to hide his annoyance whenever he had to talk to Mingyu, in his eyes none of the current teasing playfulness, but actual scorn.
While looking at Wonwoo, at his blank face, the way he seemed to despise being in Mingyu's proximity, Mingyu would often feel his fingertips tingling, the sudden need to put his hands on him even outside the ring, grab him by the neckline of his tee and slam him against something. Show him who was stronger. One day, he actually did it, but the outcome wasn't the one he was expecting.
It turned out that all that pent-up anger and aggressiveness only meant that they wanted to fuck each other. Simple as that.
Since then, since they've started secretly sleeping together on the regular, the situation settled by itself. Mingyu still wants to beat Wonwoo's ass on the ring, Wonwoo is still his lifelong enemy, but somehow, they make it work.
If Mingyu loses a match against Wonwoo, he would console himself by pounding into him all night long, reveling in how loud he can be when he screams Mingyu's name over and over. And when Wonwoo is the one who loses, Mingyu would indulge him for hours, giving him anything he wants and spoiling him rotten between the sheets.
It works perfectly fine, for them.
Mingyu takes a sharp inhale as he presses his lips on Wonwoo's, hands gripping tightly at his slim waist. Normally, he would hate the mocking laugh Wonwoo lets out the moment their mouths touch, but he doesn't, not when Wonwoo is so eager to respond to his kiss, his arms automatically wrapping around Mingyu's neck.
When Mingyu slips his tongue between them, Wonwoo's lips are still curled up into a smile, as if he had been waiting for it. As if he planned all this. Even with his eyes closed, Mingyu can almost see Wonwoo's satisfied smirk. Fucking menace. He presses more, groaning when their bodies are flushed together, tilting his head better to deepen the kiss and reveling in how Wonwoo arches against him. Mingyu's hands move lower to the back of Wonwoo's thighs, lifting him up in a swift movement and pressing him completely flush against the lockers. The way Wonwoo clings to him, breath growing erratic, is making him feel dizzy.
The sensation of Wonwoo panting on his mouth, of having his quivering body into his arms always gives Mingyu the same rush of blood, even after all these months.
The sound that leaves Mingyu's lips when his hands move from Wonwoo's shorts to his naked skin is both annoyed and desperate. “These fucking pants,” he groans, lips moving down to Wonwoo's neck.
“You like them?” Wonwoo already sounds breathless, but there is still a tone of mockery in his voice. Mingyu lightly sucks on a patch of skin under his jaw, just to feel him shudder.
“Hate them,” he admits, feelings way to strong for a simple piece of clothing. Wonwoo laughs again. “They don't seem made for training at all.”
“They aren't.” Wonwoo tilts his head to give him more space to work with, shivering when Mingyu licks down the lean column of his neck, sucking at his pulsing point. Wonwoo's hips buckle up when Mingyu concentrates his efforts on one of his collarbones, the sharp point of it peeking through his tee, and he sounds wrecked when he speaks again, terrible things coming out from his mouth. “I wore them thinking about you. Hoping to find you here.”
So, it was planned, after all.
With a feral noise, Mingyu grips tighter at Wonwoo's thighs and blindly maneuvers them until he's seated on the bench, back against the wall and Wonwoo straddling his lap. In this position, the shorts are riding even higher, Wonwoo's legs almost completely bare, and for some reason Mingyu can't seem to stop stroking them, his hands as large as Wonwoo's thighs. His reaction seems to satisfy Wonwoo, if the hunger of his kisses and the way his hips are shallowly thrusting into nothing are any indication.
“How did you know I'd come to the gym tonight?” Mingyu murmurs on Wonwoo's skin, his lips back on his neck.
Wonwoo snorts. “Please. With the possibility of us meeting on the ring tomorrow?” He sucks in a breath when Mingyu grabs at his ass through the clothes, pushing their hips closer. “I knew you'd be holed up here.”
Mingyu reclines his head back to look up at Wonwoo with a knowing grin. “You are here too, though. Wanted to be in good shape for tomorrow?”
Wonwoo cocks his head right, watching him as if considering something. Then, he suddenly pulls at Mingyu's hair to make him tilt his head back and presses a firm, bruising kiss on his lips, stealing his breath away, before backing off and meeting his eyes again.
“With how tiring is going to be tomorrow, I had no intention to do any kind of work, today,” he states slowly, seriously.
Oh.
Oh, Wonwoo. You came here for me.
Leave it to Wonwoo, to never say clearly what he wants, to make you guess his desires. He couldn't simply text Mingyu I want you, let's meet up. No, he conjured an elaborate plan instead, put on some stupid shorts in the hope to find Mingyu at the gym, and then get what he wanted while pretending it was all Mingyu's doing. Wonwoo was just there minding his own business, it was Mingyu who couldn't resist.
Mingyu rolls his eyes, maybe more fondly than what the situation requires.
“You could have simply called.”
Wonwoo smiles slyly, a hand moving to Mingyu's one to make him pat his pants. “And miss your reaction to these?” he says and then rolls his hips down, finally giving Mingyu some desired friction. Mingyu rests his head on the wall, eyes rolling to the back of his head in feeling the distinct shape of Wonwoo, slowly hardening against him. He squeezes his butt to guide his hips better, enjoying his soft hisses as he crumples forward, covering Mingyu's mouth with his hot one.
While the sensation of the tick material of Wonwoo's shorts rubbing on Mingyu's thinner joggers is absolutely maddening, he needs more, and quickly slips both hands under Wonwoo's pants, finding bare skin instead of some kind of underwear. As if he'd just touched fire, Mingyu's eyes snap open and he breaks the kiss.
“What the fuck,” he breathes. Wonwoo's smile is devilish. “Please tell me you weren't working out like this.” It would have been too impractical – and dangerous – even for Wonwoo's dedication to driving Mingyu crazy.
The tip of Wonwoo's tongue peeks through his lips before he leans down to kiss Mingyu again. “I took my underwear off as soon as I got here, while you were still pretending to do your routine. I knew you'd appreciate it,” he murmurs hotly into Mingyu's ear.
A wave of shame in knowing Wonwoo had been keeping tracks of his actions and noticed Mingyu didn't get anything done because of him makes Mingyu growl in frustration, turning his head to bite the left side of Wonwoo's neck. Wonwoo hisses and grinds his hips down in retaliation, once, twice, until they're both trembling and breathing hard.
Mingyu lets go of Wonwoo's ass to bring his hand up to his mouth, tapping his fingers on his bottom lip. “Open up, you nasty thing.”
Things must be going in Wonwoo's desired direction, because he obliges, welcoming Mingyu's index and middle finger inside his mouth and readily sucking on them, tongue twirling to coat them in spit. Trying to maintain some kind of sanity while hearing the filthy sounds Wonwoo is making, Mingyu brings his other hand to the front of his pants and opens them, both making them looser around Wonwoo's hips and freeing his cock. He gives it a light stroke and Wonwoo release his fingers with a lewd sound.
“Mingyu,” he only says, voice already hoarse. His hands are gripping so hard at Mingyu's shoulders, he's probably going to leave bruises. Mingyu feels himself grow harder at the thought and he leaves Wonwoo's cock to grab at his hip while the other hand goes back to his thigh and then under his shorts, until his wet fingers reach the cleft of his ass.
A ringing sound echoes in Mingyu's head while he presses down the tip of his index to rub it over the heated skin of Wonwoo's entrance. Wonwoo huffs, his breath growing more erratic despite nothing really happening yet.
“Don't tease,” he has the audacity to say after having teased Mingyu for the whole time. Mingyu gives him a peck on the chin and circles his fingertip over his hole a bit more, trying to smear Wonwoo's spit on the skin the best he can.
When Wonwoo starts growling, he finally pushes inside. The slide isn't as smooth as when they use lube, it must burn a little, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to mind, from how he throws his head back and bites his lip. Mingyu takes the chance to latch his mouth back on his neck, kissing mindlessly the heated skin as he presses his finger against Wonwoo's hot inner walls, probing around. Wonwoo squirms and his head falls forward, his breath fanning the hair on the top of Mingyu's head.
He starts pushing in and out, slowly, until Wonwoo's fingers slide in between his hair and pull, hips wiggling to get more stimulation. A little reluctantly, Mingyu leaves Wonwoo's neck to tip his head back and look at him as he slides in a second finger. There is something, even after all this time, that gets him, in seeing how Wonwoo looks in these moments, debauched and dazed only from Mingyu's fingers. He increases his pace and Wonwoo's lips part in a silent gasp.
“Oh, fuck.”
With the hand still under the pants, Mingyu doesn't have much room to move, but it's not needed, with how Wonwoo is pressing back on his fingers, hips undulating back and forth. Mingyu's fingers aren't that long, but they are thick, so much that most of the time Wonwoo only needs two of them to be ready to take Mingyu's cock in him – that, or the fact that, sometimes, Wonwoo likes for it to burn a little.
Wonwoo's eyes are dazed, heated, as he keeps staring into Mingyu's eyes, reddened bottom lip still trapped between his teeth. He finally releases it with a whimper when Mingyu curls his fingers up and finds his spot. Wonwoo keeps rocking his hips, impaling himself on Mingyu's fingers and then dragging his erection on Mingyu's clothed, rock-hard one with every movement.
Mingyu whimpers at the sensation, feeling like he's about to lose his mind. He should feel more in control. He's the one with his fingers buried deep inside Wonwoo, after all. And yet he doesn't, as lost as a child. It's been like this all evening, since Mingyu arrived at the gym.
No, it started way before. Since that day Mingyu first laid his eyes on Wonwoo. On his bored, handsome face.
Mingyu stopped having any kind of control in that very moment.
“Should I fuck you now?” he asks, voice as gravel as a rock, in a vain attempt of regaining some kind of dominance. Wonwoo whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Mingyu's cock. “Should I? Hard and deep as you like it, so that you'd still be feeling it tomorrow?”
A breathless, sharp laugh, and Wonwoo is grabbing Mingyu's head better, getting more leverage to grind on him and stare in his eyes at the same time. The smirk is back, way less annoying now that Wonwoo's eyes are clouded by arousal. Mingyu can feel him leaking on his own groin.
“Maybe you should. Maybe that way you could finally beat—ah!” Wonwoo chokes on his last word when Mingyu thrust his hips up, almost lifting him up all the way. He's so hard it almost hurts, but he needs to put Wonwoo in his place, first.
“Shut up, I already won plenty of times against you.”
He doesn't give Wonwoo any occasion to rebut – if he ever wanted to, which is unlikely given how far gone he's looking at the moment – and curls his fingers again. Wonwoo seizes up around him with a low moan, forehead dropping against Mingyu's.
Mingyu does it again and again, relentlessly rubbing at his prostate, drunk on Wonwoo's sweet sounds and on the way his eyelids are fluttering, wanting to close them but fighting the urge, his eyes steady on Mingyu's.
“Mingyu.” The whisper on his lips is intoxicating, the way Wonwoo cants his hips faster maddening. Mingyu bites back a curse, his hips jerking upwards helplessly, seeking some more friction. “Mingyu, fuck. Don't stop. Please, don't stop.”
And Mingyu doesn't, keeps moving his fingers and grinding his cock against Wonwoo's, trying to give him everything he wants, until a pair of hot, burning lips are on his and Wonwoo is coming, the warmth of his release seeping through Mingyu's clothes as they devour each other's mouth. Even then, Mingyu doesn't stop his movements, helping him to ride out his orgasm until Wonwoo finally stops twitching around his fingers.
Their lips part, and then Wonwoo is watching him in a way that is making him feel faint. He doesn't have the time to even think about what he should do about his own erection, that Wonwoo is silently sliding down until he's kneeling on the floor between Mingyu's legs. He eyes at his groin, the pants strained by his cock and wet with both Wonwoo's release and his own precum.
Finally, Mingyu's cock gets released from the restraint of his clothes. The gleam in Wonwoo's eyes as he gives it a light pump, his pretty, long fingers curling up around it, is nothing but maddening. He quickly wets his lips and then he's taking Mingyu's cock to his mouth, licking a long, slow stripe all along the length.
Mingyu's breath shudders and he clenches his abs to stave off his orgasm, to not come just like that. He whimpers Wonwoo's name, hoping he isn't in the mood to tease him too much.
Lucky for him, Wonwoo seems to understand, a small smile before dipping down and taking him all in one go, until his lips touch the skin of his groin. He stays there for one, two seconds, and then he moves back, releasing Mingyu completely, only to sink down on him again. Wonwoo keeps doing it, his eyes watering, until Mingyu is a shuddering, panting mess. He wants to grip at Wonwoo's hair so badly, but at the same time he doesn't want to hinder his movements, so he just clenches his hands on two fists on his thighs. Suddenly, one of Wonwoo's hands is on his own, interlacing their fingers together.
Through the mist of arousal that's clouding his eyes, Mingyu manages to take a look at Wonwoo. His pink, abused lips stretched around him. But, mostly, his dark, wanting eyes intently watching Mingyu, and that almost does it for him.
“I'm close,” he pants, fighting the urge to thrust into Wonwoo's mouth. “Wonwoo, fuck. I'm—”
Wonwoo gives one last suck around the head, and then his mouth is replaced by his free hand stroking him quickly, his mouth open in front of him, tongue resting under the head, ready to take all of him. His eyes aren't leaving Mingyu, as if spurring him over.
Mingyu crumbles down, whimpering pathetically as he watches himself spurts inside Wonwoo's awaiting mouth, some streaks of cum painting his cheeks white. He allows himself to bring a hand, the one that's not into Wonwoo's one, to the top of Wonwoo's head, lightly caressing his hair. He moans weakly when Wonwoo closes his lips around the tip of his cock one more time, milking out the last of his release before moving back and resting his right cheek against Mingyu's thigh, watching him with an unreadable look.
And suddenly it's all too much. The intent behind Wonwoo's eyes. The depth of them. How Mingyu can never read them properly.
Still out of breath, Mingyu grabs Wonwoo by the arms to pull him up again until he's seated across his lap, and kisses him, lips firmly pressed on his, tasting himself on his tongue. Wonwoo lets him, melts against him with a low sound. Gracefully accepting to spend some more minutes in Mingyu's arms, even after getting what he wanted.
In the end, though, after they both feel calmer and their kisses have slowed down, Wonwoo is still the first to pull back. He moves to stand up and, unthinkingly, Mingyu grasps his arms to keep him from moving away. Wonwoo gives him a confused look, a small frown on his face. Mingyu swallows, hard.
He should stop. This isn't what they are.
He returns to himself and lets Wonwoo go, fingers slowly sliding down his arms. Wonwoo glances at him one more time and then he's back on his feet without a word, moving towards his bag.
It's a little uncharacteristic, the silence in the room. They're usually quite comfortable with each other, especially after blowing off some steam. Quietly rearranging his clothes, Mingyu briefly wonders if he's made it weird, at the end, but then Wonwoo says something that makes him immediately snap out of his thoughts.
“You could have done it, you know. Fucking me,” he says it as if it's nothing, tone nonchalant. He has finally taken off those damn shorts and put on some underwear and a normal pair of joggers, and now he's looking at Mingyu with the smallest smile. “I think I would have liked it. Knocking you on the ground whit some of your cum still in me. Still feeling you inside.”
Mingyu gasps in shock for, oh, so many reasons.
“The filth that comes out of your mouth...”
Wonwoo laughs, merciless. “You like it,” he says, his bag now closed and hung over his shoulder. He watches Mingyu for some seconds, as if he's expecting Mingyu to say something. Mingyu returns his look, not understanding what he's waiting for. Not daring to say a word.
Then, Wonwoo is shaking his head, that small, unreadable smile back on his lips.
“See you tomorrow, then,” he says moving to the door.
To a less trained eye, it might look like Wonwoo is acting cold again, completely unfazed and uncaring. But Mingyu—he hears it, the softly murmured “Goodnight, Mingyu,” before Wonwoo leaves the room.
He stares at the now empty space where Wonwoo was standing mere seconds earlier, his heart thundering inside his chest. Was Wonwoo— was he proposing something? That last sentence was him suggesting Mingyu to ask him to spend the night together? Mingyu almost did, earlier, caught up in the moment while they were kissing and Wonwoo was about to go away, but he stopped himself because he was afraid of his reaction.
He rubs a hand on his face, frustrated. Why can't Wonwoo be direct, for once?
At the same time, Mingyu feels some giddiness beside his exasperation, and he finds himself chuckling.
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. He will bring Mingyu to an early death, with all his silent stares and muttered words.
Next time... next time, Mingyu will ask him.