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The cool air of the summer night greeted Minho like an old friend as he stepped through the school’s doors. His skin and hair was still a little damp from his post-meet shower, making the calm breeze cool his hot skin. His equipment bag bounced against his thigh as he made his way through the parking lot, searching for a familiar face.
“There’s my champion.”
Minho broke out into a grin as his eyes fell onto his boyfriend’s thin frame, leaning against his car with a smirk and crossed arms. Newt pulled Minho forward by the medal hanging around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling away to help him with his bag.
“You did well out there,” he told him as he loaded the bag into the trunk. “I reckon that was the fastest I’ve seen you run.”
Minho shrugged. “Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m amazing.”
Newt just shook his head at his boyfriend’s ego. He stepped up to him again, letting his long arms drape across the other’s broad shoulders. “I suppose this amazing winner of mine deserves a prize, hm? One better than some bloody medal.”
Minho just smirked before connecting their lips.
It wasn’t long until the two were sprawled across the back seat of Minho’s car with Newt laid out beneath him. All but their boxers were forgotten as the boys rutted against each other like the hormone filled teenagers they were.
Minho hadn’t been expecting much else. Seeing as they were in his somewhat cramped car, he figured this is as good as it would get. So imagine his surprise when Newt whispered three little words:
“I want you.”
The track star was in no position to disappoint, not with the heavenly sight of Newt beneath him, ready and willing. Newt reached down into the bag he’d thrown on the floor earlier, pulling out a small bottle of lube and a condom.
“Someone came prepared.” Minho whispered with a smirk, taking their boxers off quickly and throwing them down with the other discarded clothes.
Newt lifted the foil square to his teeth and tore it open. “I had faith you’d win. Wasn’t that bloody hard to predict, you’re the best of the best.”
Minho chuckled lowly. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He joked, but his laugh died in his throat as Newt reached down to roll the condom on.
“I know,” the boy responded with a smirk, giving Minho a few slow strokes as he worked at the bottle. “Ya better hurry up, Thomas’ parked right beside and I’d really rather him not see my bare arse.”
“Glad the feeling’s mutual.” The dark haired boy mumbled, a lubed finger pressing against Newt slowly. “This one’s mine.”
Newt squirmed beneath him and bit down on his bottom lip. “Yours…”
It didn’t take long for Newt to grab Minho’s wrist and tell him he’s ready. Practice really does make perfect.
Minho felt his stomach tighten as he lined himself up, willing himself to take it slow at first. It was better that way, anyways. As he pressed forward, Newt’s grip on his forearms tightened and a drawn out moan passed his trembling lips. His stomach slowly relaxed once he was all the way in, and he leaned down to pepper Newt’s neck and jawline with kisses. The boy whimpered at the contact.
“So hot, Newt…” he whispered against the boy’s pale skin. “So, so hot.”
“Minho…” the boy groaned, slowly bringing his legs up to wrap around him. “Move.”
And he obeyed, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. Just like that, slow and steady, they built up a rhythm. Minho quickened his pace with every other thrust, drinking in every little sound that passed Newt’s parted lips. Occasionally he’d let out a groan of his own, and feel Newt’s nails drag across his back in response.
“M-More… Minho, god, more.” The boy stuttered out, beginning to buck his hips upward to meet the thrusts. Again, Minho obeyed, adjusting himself so he could get deeper and go faster.
It didn’t take long for this new position to have Newt crumbling beneath him. He could hardly form words anymore, every attempt being cut off by his own loud moans and mewls. Both boys could feel the heat pooling in their stomach, and Newt was quick to let him know.
“M-Min… Close, shit, bloody…fuck, so close…”
Again, Minho quickened his pace. His strong hands gripped Newt’s hips like a life line as he sped up his movements, hard enough that he’d surely leave bruises. Newt didn’t mind - not when he was like this, teetering so dangerously close to the edge and repeating his boyfriend’s name like a mantra. When Minho felt the boy’s walls begin the clench around him, he felt the heat in his stomach turn into an intense burn.
Their movements were sloppy but rough as each boy desperately raced to the finish. Only seconds passed before Minho through his head back and let out a loud groan, the blood rushing in his ears drowning out the sounds of Newt calling out about his release.
For a few hot seconds, everything was perfect. Minho felt weightless and impossibly heavy all at the same time, completely lost in feelings for the beautiful boy beneath him.
Their thoughts cleared and the rushes of blood in their ears were replaced by their desperate breathing to regain air.
Their gazes met and Minho was filled with adoration for his boyfriend. Newt lay beneath him, pale skin flushed red and shiny from the sweat. His back was surely slicked to the leather seats and his fluffy gold locks were looking a little bit less than glamorous, but he was still the most beautiful boy Minho had ever seen. He smiled, leaning down to press kisses over the love bites forming on the boy’s neck.
“I hope you win more often.” Newt said between pants, causing Minho to pull away to look at him. He smiled at the boy’s eyes, gazing up at him softly like this was the most peaceful he’d ever been.
“With you for motivation, you can bet your bare arse I will.” Minho said as he reached down to squeeze the boy’s ass, drawing out a startled squeak.
They both erupted into a fit of laughter. It slowly died down until they were left to stare at each other lovingly. Long, thin fingers reached up to rest on Minho’s cheek and he smiled.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Min.”