Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Fuck this fucking mouth," San groaned out, hand steadily holding back Seonghwa's long dark hair away from his face. "You like taking this cock, huh? Until your lips are swollen and bruised every time?"

Lewd sounds from the spit and precum collecting within Seonghwa's mouth bounced between the walls of his bedroom. San's moans rolled off his chest with every inhale when he needed to catch his breath. His fingers curled within the dark locks of Seonghwa's hair—occasionally brushing the smaller stands away from his face before they could collect any liquid and become tangled.

Tears collected at the corners of Seonghwa's eyes as he continued to bat his long lashes up at his best friend; his jaw relaxing as far as it could to give San the ability to fuck into his mouth however he pleased. His cock was on the smaller side, roughly around average, but fat and caused Seonghwa's hole to stretch open deliciously whenever they fucked. His body always responded with pure carnal need to whatever San was offering whenever they got together to have sex. Which was almost every other day—give or take what their schedules looked like.

Sometimes most of their visits were spent during the evenings after a long day of work. Occasionally San would drop by in the middle of the night, wake Seonghwa up from his slumber with stress from a failed race—then fuck the frustration out on his best friend until the am.

Seonghwa never minded because sometimes his urges came in the morning before work when he knew it was going to be a long day.

Which was very much their current situation—only an hour left to spare until Seonghwa had to leave and go to his next photoshoot. But he awoke with the urge to be worshiped and pleasured. He would have to quickly shower afterwards and apply his makeup in the car on the way to his shoot.

Luckily for him, the fashion industry in Seoul were willing to wait the extra minutes for his arrival. He's never been late, not once, but he knew he was highly respected by the industry. He never had to use it to his own advantage—Seonghwa was humbled—but it was nice knowing he could bend it at his own will if there was ever an emergency.

That emergency being San's fat cock repeatedly thrusting into his mouth like it was his will to live.

His head tipped back with praises and grunts. He blindly guided Seonghwa's head as it continued to bob up and down with lewd gurgles. Spit dribbled down the older boy's chin—falling onto his chest as he leaned forward to catch every drop before it could reach his pristine floor.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum just like this," San groaned out.

Seonghwa pulled his head back with a large gulp of air. San's cock stood straight up directly in front of his face—a small white ring sitting around his base from spit and precum. He gathered the spit that fell on his chest with his fingers and lolled out his tongue—swiping it along the wet muscle with a pleasured hum.

"Tired, baby?" San questioned, leaning back on his elbow to gaze down at Seonghwa with half-lidded eyes.

The older boy shook his head, leaning into San's tender touch as he continued to hold back his hair with his fingers massaging Seonghwa's scalp. He licked the corners of his mouth, gaze locked up at his best friend, "Want you to fuck me, Sannie. Please?"

He lifted his other hand and glanced down at his Chrome Hearts Rolex watch settled on his wrist. "Yunho will be here any minute to pick you up—"

"—And he can wait." Seonghwa stood up from his knees in front of San and tucked his fingers into the waist of his sleep shorts before pushing them down with a slow sway of his hips. "Don't you want to fuck me, Sannie? Make me drool and cry?" His question rolled off his tongue with a purr—both hands settling on the bed next to San's legs as he slowly crawled on top of his friend. "You like it when I drool from the size of your cock…" He taunted with a growing grin.

San willingly leaned backwards with a breathless chuckle—his warm hands settling on Seonghwa's waist as he hovered himself over his cock. "You want it that bad?" He questioned, fully knowing the answer already.

"So badly," Seonghwa mewled with his fingers daintily caressing over his best friends aching cock. "Ruin me before I have to get all pretty for my photoshoot. Remind me how good I look covered in your cum. I want to think about it while I'm wearing designer clothes for billionaires that have no clue I was fucked opened just an hour prior."

"Media training is terrified of you, baby," San chuckled again with his thumbs caressing over Seonghwa's hip bones.

Seonghwa gently swatted his chest with a shake of his head. "Don't be funny—it'll take me out of my fucked-out head space and I like it here."

San reached for his cock between their bodies and held the base while swiping the tip along Seonghwa's throbbing hole. No prep—just spit and precum to stretch him open—the burning sensation is what Seonghwa loved the most. He loved it raw, always, as long as they were both equally checked—but neither of them ever spent time with anyone else besides each other. Why would they when they had everything they needed directly in front of them?

"My apologies, bunny, let me fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name." The corner's of his mouth curled upwards—the round tip of his cock nudging against Seonghwa's hole that willingly relaxed with anticipation. "Good boy, bunny," San softly grunted with his hips bucking upwards. He watched as the head of his cock slipped inside of him with a soft lewd pop—Seonghwa's hole immediately expanding to his size with a whine escaping him as he met San halfway by sliding down onto his cock.

"I'll fuck this tight little hole wide open then stuff one of your pretty little jeweled plugs inside so you don't feel empty during the day," San continued until Seonghwa was fully sheathed with rapid breathing. "Then you'll be ready for me tonight, yeah?"

"Tonight?" Seonghwa echoed with his head tipping back and eyebrows furrowing from bliss.

San nodded, placing both hands back on the older boys hips as he started dragging him up and down on his throbbing cock. "Tonight after I win the race. I'll treat you to dinner with the money I earn—then I'm going to fuck you as my reward."

Seonghwa's chest swelled with brewing excitement. His stomach curled inwards—his body reacting eagerly to the possible crazed night he was going to have with his best friend.

If San lost a race, he was frustrated and angry—muttering machinery information to himself about things he could've done differently while fucking Seonghwa. The older boy never understood what he meant, but he allowed San to use his body as a safe haven to take all his frustrations out on.

Winning a race, however, meant that San was going to pound Seonghwa directly into the mattress or on every piece of furniture they could reach throughout the house. It would last longer than an hour. Multiple rest times with water, snacks, and shows on television until they started the next round and fucked like rabbits until the sun came up.

Seonghwa was San's little bunny—the bunny that never complained, that never grew tired, and enjoyed being fucked until he passed out from exhaustion.

San took care of Seonghwa through it all. Made sure all pleasure was mutual and they both received something during it. It was rare San ever let Seonghwa walk away without getting at least one release.

They weren't dating—the thought never crossed either of their minds. There were no strings attached; nothing that kept them from moving further than just friends. That boundary was set since the very beginning when they both confronted each other about the possibility of fucking. Heat rose between the both of them one night at a party—which led them directly to San's bed, and a contract being signed the next day.

Seonghwa's life was perfect and there wasn't a single thing he would change about it.

The tip of San's cock brushed along his prostate—causing a string of moans to exit out of Seonghwa with a singular breath. He reached forward with one hand and settled it on San's perfectly toned stomach that glistened with sweat. Several bite marks were littered around his stomach and chest from Seonghwa before he sucked his best friends cock. He enjoyed teasing San—spending more time marking him and leaving behind memories of their time together. It would take days for them to heal, but San never minded.

"Fuck," San grunted out. "Keep squeezing my cock like that…"

Pride bloomed in Seonghwa's chest every time he managed to do something that San liked. They worked simultaneously to pleasure each other through every fuck. As San pierced him with his cock and used the thick ridges of his shaft to caress the sensitive era's inside Seonghwa's hole—he would clench back in return to show how much he enjoyed it.

San adjusted his grip on Seonghwa's waist and the older boy took the opportunity to reposition himself by planting his feet on the bed next to San. With his knees bent and his free hand perched behind him for balance, he began to lift himself off of San's cock and slowly lowering himself back down. He created a steady rhythm to start off with—carefully watching San's facial expression as it twisted with pleasure. With no visible or verbal complaints, Seonghwa took his moans as a sign to move faster.

Each time he came down, his ass would clap against San's thick thighs and the echo of skin slapping would flicker around the room. It created the most pornographic sounds that would send an elderly person into the nearest grave—but this is how Seonghwa liked it.

Fast, hard, and wet.

He lifted his hand off San's abdomen and spat directly into his palm before reaching for his cock that was currently bouncing against his skin. It lacked attention and desperately needed to be touched while San raised his hips off the bed and began pounding into him.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Seonghwa gasped loudly. "Oh God, Sannie—yes!"

He swiped his thumb over his leaking tip, gathering the precome that has been collecting in tiny little beads and rolling down the plush head of his cock. He quickly tucked the digit into his mouth and hummed at his own taste of cum—slightly sweet and frequently eaten by San whenever he wanted to spend an eternity between Seonghwa's legs.

Something about the filth that came with cum sparked a deep rooted kink for Seonghwa during the first few times him and San had sex. He either wanted to be covered in it or full of it—until he could feel it dripping down his legs.

It made him feel claimed—owned.

Something inside San snapped just by watching Seonghwa lick and suck his own release off his fingers. One second he's pounding up into him—meeting the older boy halfway—the next second he's flipping them both over. Seonghwa's left leg was propped over his shoulder, the other snugged tightly against San's hip as he relentlessly pounded into Seonghwa. Beads of sweat that collected along San's forehead dripped onto Seonghwa's bare chest.

"Oh—fuck!" Seonghwa breathed in deeply again until the air was physically knocked out of him between every thrust.

San held onto his perky left cheek and squeezed it hard—forcing Seonghwa into the mattress by thrusting his hips brutally. Their moans intertwined together with harmony and San could feel himself reaching towards the edge with only a few minutes left to spare in hopes Seonghwa was right behind.

"Keep stroking your cock for me, baby," San insisted, lowering his gaze between their bodies. "I want you to cum with me. I'm going to fuck you full of my come while you make a mess of yourself. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good bunny?"

Seonghwa nodded frantically—eyebrows furrowing with pleasure and his plush lips rounding with endless sounds. A mixture between whines and moans every time San fucked into him and the curve of his cock kissed the sensitive parts.

But Seonghwa moved too slow for San's liking. With one hand still digging into the soft flesh of the older boy's ass—the other moved to Seonghwa's neck. His fingers curled around it carefully—finger tips squeezing the sides tight enough to make Seonghwa's eyes roll back, but not hard enough to cut off air-flow.

"Stroke your cock, bunny," San demanded. He leaned his face closer—pressing their foreheads together as he spoke, "Or else I'm not letting you cum. Not until hours later when you're aching for me to finish you off. You don't want to have to wait, do you bunny?"

Seonghwa shook his head and immediately reached in between them. He grabbed his cock and began stroking himself at the same pace San was fucking him—sharp gasps tearing from his throat due to sensitivity.

"N-No! I'll be good! I'll be so good," Seonghwa promised with his tearful gaze locked onto San's. "I'll be your good bunny, I-I will…I…" The next few words caught in his throat when San rutted his hips sharply—knocking the wind out of Seonghwa entirely.

San smirked down at him with his grip around Seonghwa's neck loosening. "Good," he responded, quickly biting down on his lower lip to suppress a groan before speaking again. "Now follow my instructions and make yourself cum—now."

Seonghwa didn't hesitate this time to follow his commands and twirl his wrist around his cock at max speed until it started to ache. His tip throbbed with burning pain—a delicious angry red hue staring right back at him with the urge to release. He was close, so fucking close—he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. San's cock pounded against his prostate eagerly—causing Seonghwa's stomach to curl inwards and the rubber band inside of him to finally snap.

"S-Sannie! Fuc—ngh!" Tears slipped down his cheeks as he moaned out his best friends name. His cock pulsed within his grasp and spurts of come shot along his stomach—adding to the mixture of sweat.

"That's it baby—right there, right—" San's mouth gaped open, his own words falling short as his hips faltered with a heavy thick release of his cum pouring into Seonghwa's hole.

His hips didn't stop spasming against Seonghwa's ass—not until San was sure he was emptying himself completely inside of him. The tears continued to collect along Seonghwa's gorgeous features—tears of full undeniable pleasure that were reserved for San only.

Seonghwa's hand fell limp along with his own cock. His leg weighing on San's shoulder slowly fell to the side, and his hole clenched desperately along San's cock due to overstimulation.

Finally, after chasing and chasing whatever was left, San finally came to a halt. His forehead dropped to Seonghwa's chest—their labored breathing matching perfectly.

Seonghwa moistened his lips with his tongue. His delicate slender fingers caressed his best friends spine as he spoke, "So full Sannie…" He pulled his lower lip between his teeth to suppress the moan being dragged out of him as San slowly pulled out his cock.

The boy leaned back on his heels—one hand on his cock, the other pushing his dark sweaty hair back. His eyes were glued on the space between their bodies, watching as ropes of cum slowly poured out of Seonghwa's ass, until he carefully thrusted himself forward to push the come back inside with the head of his cock.

"My hole to fuck…" San murmured to himself—visibly in a trance with the way Seonghwa's body responded to him.

The older boy, now completely pulled out of his horny bliss, rolled his eyes and gently swatted his friend against the stomach. "Should've said that during…would've been hot. Now I'm going back to being independent."

San chuckled, using his freehand to drag it down his face. "I'll save it for tonight, how about that?"

Seonghwa reached for his silk robe that he purposely placed on the cushioned chair beside his bed and sat up on his mattress to wrap it around himself. He gazed up at his best friend with a teasing smile—shaky legs swinging over the edge to stand.

"How are you so sure you'll win?"

San caught his hand before the older boy could move—both of them standing toe to toe. "Because you'll be there, right? You're my good luck charm, Hwa."

"I've never been to any of your races," Seonghwa countered. "You just like to think I am."

San squeezed his hand—yanking him closer with a growing grin. "Come tonight and I'll prove it to you. Dinner is on me, remember? I always keep my promises."

Seonghwa placed his hand flat against his friends chest and gently shoved him back on the bed—watching his large frame bounce slightly from impact. "Does that mean I don't get dinner when you lose?" He raised his eyebrows while tying the silk knot around his waist. He tried to ignore the obvious wetness beginning to drip down his leg—as well as the fact his best friend remained naked directly in front of him with a cock good enough to dream about.

"I'll take you wherever you want—why are you so convinced I'll lose?!"

He shrugged, "It's called not getting your hopes up. Being cocky can ruin that beautiful brain of yours." He poked San on the center of his forehead with a soft giggle. "I need to shower—as quickly as possible. And I need you to skedaddle, okay?"

"So the option of us showering together is…?"

"Zero," Seonghwa deadpanned.

The older boy turned around and started making his way towards the bathroom—making sure to sway his hips in the process while combing his fingers through his long dark hair to remove any tangles.

"Sooo, do I text you the address of the race!?"

"See you later, Sannie!" His feet crossed the threshold of his bathroom and closed the door behind himself with a soft click.

It wasn't a no, but it wasn't a definite yes either. However, San did keep his promises, which meant that dinner was definitely in their cards later this evening. Along with whatever may come between the duo.

Seonghwa could hear the faint movements coming from San behind the closed door where he collected his belongings then slipped out of the bedroom with a soft click of the door behind him. Seonghwa turned on his shower—testing the temperature with his fingers before growing a towel and hanging his silk robe on the nearest hook hanging by the door. He then stood naked in front of the mirror, checking for any visible marks that San might've left behind that would need to be covered with makeup for his shoot.

San was usually good at not leaving anything behind when he knew Seonghwa had a tight schedule full of shoots, meetings, or a potential walk. However, as his best friend, he also liked to leave something behind secretly for Seonghwa to discover later.

He gently dragged his slender fingers through his hair. It would need a good comb through after the shower, then a definite wash either later tonight or tomorrow morning. He twisted it up towards the back of his head and secured it with a thick claw-clip to keep it from getting wet.

He was tremendously proud with how long it's grown out since college and when he started taking on multiple jobs through multiple fashion companies. The length almost reached his back dimples. It was perfect for when he wanted to style it with ribbons, braids, gems, or even use a heating tool to change it's texture.

He climbed into the shower and immediately went into his usual routine after getting his entire body wet. He started with his favorite body wash scented with santal bloom, then moved onto body scrubs and exfoliants with his net sponge, body brush, and loofah. The older boy cleaned himself thoroughly in the shower—washing away San's release and his own that lingered on his soft skin.

The mixed scents of rose, jasmine, and sandalwood from his body wash lingered in the bathroom. It created a relaxing aroma that always made it harder for him to get out of the shower—especially when the water was hot. But after a solid twenty minutes going through his routine, he finally turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower with the cotton towel wrapped around his waist.

Seonghwa positioned himself in front of the mirror again and started going through his next routine of skin care. He took his time with it—using every product he purchased for himself and frequently replenished whenever he ran out.

When he finished with his skin care and applied the minimal makeup where he didn't look completely fucked out, Seonghwa went back into his bedroom to retrieve a small box from his walk-in-closet.

The box, which was tucked away in a drawer near his designer bags, was strawberry and bunny printed from his local craft store. It weighed only a few pounds in his hands—his own personal secret full of gifts and toys that kept him occupied during his lonelier nights without San. Whom has yet to be given the privileged to take a peak inside the box—Seonghwa kept it private and strictly for himself unless he brought something out for them to play with.

He placed the box on the chaise lounge chair inside his closet and delicately flipped the lid as if it contained his darkest secrets.

Inside were various options of plugs, ribbons, vibrators, and dildos—all of different colors and made from different materials. Glass, rubber, silicone. Sometimes the ribbons he wore in his hair were the same ones he desired to have tied around his wrists to restrain him from touching himself. Something that him and San have yet to try out—along with many other things that Seonghwa was too nervous to ask for just yet.

He lightly inspected each plug—his eyes flickering along every toy strategically before deciding.

It was blue and made of glass. The material on the inside was full of gems and sparkles that reflected beautifully underneath any lighting. The tip was smooth and sleek—easy to insert without any uncomfortable pain, as well as a cute flared heart-shaped base that keeps everything secured.

Seonghwa lifted the toy and gave it a light shake—cuteness aggression overcoming him as he watched the gems and sparkles inside move around. His nose scrunched with delight, visibly pleased with his choice, and retrieved the small bottle of lube. He closed the box before putting it back in its designated spot afterwards.

He stood in front of his tall pink wavy mirror near the corner and dropped the towel to his feet. A few strands of hair fell from the clip—curling around his face and sitting along his shoulders.

His stomach dipped with anticipation, flicking the cap open and poured a dime-sized amount of liquid onto the tip of the plug. His heart sped against his chest—practically urging him with desperation to move faster.

He leaned forward with one hand propped on the nearest dresser, and the other holding onto the jeweled plug. He bit down on his lower lip, raising his right leg and propping his foot on the chair with his back arched. He gently swiped the cool tip of the plug along his hole—smearing the lube around to get the muscle prepared before slowly inserting the toy.

He exhaled a soft pleasured moan—his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed it further in until only the heart shaped jewel was peaking out between his cheeks. A wave of eagerness flooded his system, causing heat to rise in his chest. Suddenly only coming once wasn't enough to satisfy him for the rest of the day.

He stood straight up again with another exhale, but more steady as he relaxed his body. He could still feel the plug sitting inside of him and if he moved any particular angle, it would brush against his most sensitive parts. So this afternoon's photoshoot would need to be done with grace and patience.

Seonghwa quickly changed into fresh clothes before gathering his towel and stored it in the bathroom.

His bag and shoes were waiting for him downstairs near the front door—as well as his bodyguard, Yunho, who was definitely outside waiting in the matte black BMW. The man had all the patience in the world for Seonghwa—or so the model liked to believe.

He considered them good friends. Four years spent together with Yunho following him around and taking him to his designated meetings. Even going as far as staying the night at Seonghwa's home whenever he was lonely. He was monotone and all business—very rarely showing any visible interest in anything in life. He kept mainly to himself with no partner—which Seonghwa particularly teased him about, but he understood. Yunho was pristine and calculated with everything. There was no changing that man and his ways, ever.

"Good morning!" Seonghwa sang cheerfully, earning no spark of joy from his employee.

"Photoshoot is in thirty-minutes," Yunho responded with a deadpanned tone. "Traffic will get us there with—"

"—Five-minutes to spare, I'm sure." Seonghwa gently patted his chest—eyes flickering to admire his bodyguard's chosen suit from the day. Black on black, always. "Attending anything special today after work? A funeral perhaps?"

Yunho's left eyebrow twitched. "Maybe my own. Are you asking because there's something you'd like to involve me in later or are you curious?"

Seonghwa climbed into the back seat with a grin stretching wide across his lips. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see!"

The door closed and Yunho moved back to the front. Soft music echoed within the vehicle—instrumental music that was always switched to something currently streaming on the radio once Seonghwa entered. He liked keeping up with current songs or story audio's whenever he was busy and couldn't physically search anything himself.

The photoshoot was going to take up most of Seonghwa's afternoon between prep and the actual shoot. If it weren't for Yeosang, he would dread the day doing it alone—but they were doing it together for the cover of Vogue. Two high-paid models that were loved by the entire industry and friends since the start of both of their careers.

The photoshoot concept was baroque fashion but more modernized with corsets, pearls, gloves, hats, and endless heels.

Seonghwa's stomach twirled with excitement just imagining the layers he was going to wear between skirts and lace stockings with so much jewelry it'll feel like he's being weighed down. He enjoyed being dressed up like he was a child's barbie doll. Sitting for hair and makeup was his least favorite but he enjoyed seeing the finishing touch once it was over.

The moment he stepped through the front doors of the building, caffeine was immediately thrusted into his hand with Yeosang kissing his cheek as a greeting.

"No sleep? You have discolor under your eyes," Yeosang pointed out with a visible pout. "I thought you were going to bed early so we could embrace this photoshoot at our fullest potential."

Seonghwa quickly touched the bones under his eyes with a flicker over worry until he playfully waved away his friend. "I did sleep! I was up earlier this morning."

Yeosang locked arms with his friend. They walked in-sync towards the changing room as staff passed around them like tiny lightning bolts to continue prepping. Seonghwa swiftly placed the cup of hot coffee on the vanity desk as they passed by. There was soft chatter and a faint sound of classical music from the 17th century to set the mood.

Yunho stayed behind closer towards the set with his hands tucked behind his back and his eyes watching every movement between the staff.

"Up early because of pure excitement, or…?" Yeosang sneaked a glance towards Seonghwa—who completely avoided his gaze once they got behind the private curtain.

Seonghwa dropped his bag onto the round ottoman and pulled his knitted sweater off. "Pure…excitement," he laughed, folding the sweater and placing it on the chair.

"Oh, really?" Yeosang teased—walking towards his own chair but bumping his hip against Seonghwa's as he passed by.

The older boy tried to suppress the moan curling up his throat as his body jerked towards the side. The plug brushed directly over his prostate and he forced himself to blink repeatedly to ignore the growing pleasure.

Yeosang laughed, turning to his friend with a questioning gaze. "Are you okay?"

"Mmm—mhm!" Seonghwa quickly nodded. "Perfect." He faced his chair as he popped open the button of his slacks and slid them down his legs. He made every move precise—forgetting that the further he bent forward, the more visible the jeweled heart would peak out between his perked cheeks.

"Hwa!" Yeosang gasped and reached over to playfully slap Seonghwa's ass. "Is that a—!?"

The older boy spun around with a yelp—followed by a hiss and the towel covering his body. "It's nothing! I was—"

"Was San over this morning? Is that why there's literal bags under yours eyes?" His eyebrows lifted with a teasing smirk spreading across his lips. "You got fucked this morning, didn't you? You woke up early just to get some dick!"

A faint blush formed along Seonghwa's cheeks as he peeled his gaze off his friend. His fingers worked to slowly wrap the towel around his waist. It was bound to be noticed, either by a crew member, or his best friend—thank God it was Yeosang.

"We—I—" Nervous laughter rolled off the older model's lips. "Okay, yes, I was a little preoccupied this morning but that isn't going to distract me from my schedule today." He switched the towel for the cotton robe that was provided for all models and quickly covered his body while tying a perfect knot over his waist. "San was up late anyways and had to catch up," Seonghwa continued.

"How could you possibly catch up about anything when his dick is in your mouth?" Yeosang continued to pry—now standing naked with only his briefs on.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "We talked before we fucked. I'm not an animal, Yeo."

"Was it good?"

"You know it was," The older boy giggled, unable to suppress his smile.

Yeosang secured his own robe over his body and dragged his fingers through his hair—pushing a few strands out of his face in the process. "I always said I wanted to watch you both fuck out of curiosity. You always talk about how good it is…it's starting to give me fomo."

Genuine laughter bubbled up Seonghwa's throat. "There's no way you have a fear of missing out just because San and I fuck. You just haven't found the right guy yet."

"I need someone big…thick…but also funny, you know?"

"Mmm," Seonghwa nodded, "he'll come around when you least expect it. I always say that, don't I? Have patience."

"Easy for you to say. You haven't dated in years. Your sex drive gets taken care of by your best friend and there's no issues with romantic feelings getting involved. So you can fuck around without having to question 'what are we?' You're living out my fantasy with the good sex…except I want the commitment! Why is that so hard to ask for?"

Seonghwa blinked slowly at his friend, a small smile stretching across his plush lips before they linked arms again to exit the dressing room. "Yeo, your rambles always bring me so much inner joy."

His friend rolled his eyes with a teasing glint. "I'm glad I amuse you. What are you plans tonight?"

"Dinner with Sannie," Seonghwa slowly grinned. "He's racing tonight and wants to celebrate afterwards."

"His confidence makes his dick that much bigger."

"Alright," the older boy laughed, lightly pinching his friend's waist. "Can we focus on the shoot? I've been anticipating this one for weeks."

Yeosang slipped his arm from Seonghwa's and walked directly to his chair for hair and makeup. "Sure but I want details afterwards during lunch. We're still getting lunch, right?"

Seonghwa mirrored his movements by sitting in his own chair—adjusting the robe as he crossed one leg over the other. His makeup and hair team were immediately at his side. He reached for his coffee and took a long sip with a pleased sigh.

"Sure," he nodded, greeting the crew with a welcoming smile. "Morning—are we going for sandwiches? Pastries?" He peaked at his friend through the mirror.

Yeosang's makeup artist was pinning his hair from his face before applying creams with gentle touches. His eyes fluttered closed and his body visibly relaxed into the chair. Photoshoots could last anywhere between three hours or eight—so the pampering beforehand was always treated as a spa date.

"Both. I want to be able to take something sweet home," Yeosang's voice softly carried over the music.

"Okay, we'll do both," Seonghwa smiled, finally allowing his body to relax in the chair.

The Baroque themed photoshoot was something Seonghwa spent frequent nights studying before the day arrived. Searching inspiration between era's with previous photoshoot's done for other magazines and designers. He fell asleep watching Marie Antoinette multiple times during the night—even going as far as making San come over and watch with him.

San was always eager to hear about Seonghwa's photoshoots. Because before they were fuck-buddies, they were best friends, joining each other on almost every adventure until society took over and they started working.

San started racing back in high-school way before they met. He was already getting himself into trouble and teaching himself how to survive off the cash he would earn at every meet. Along with several morning jobs waiting tables or working at a garage to expand his knowledge on cars. Seonghwa would teasingly call him a grease-monkey—which always managed to make him laugh. However, the model never judged San for his life choices; in fact he praised him. San was driven and motivated to constantly do better than the day before. He was close to his family—a respectable bunch that held distaste towards his chosen profession, but he constantly provided funds to keep them afloat.

Seonghwa has met San's family multiple times during their years of knowing each other. Good people, kind, and welcoming.

Although they enjoyed nagging Seonghwa about possibly convincing San into getting a profession that didn't put his life at risk. The model would often reassure them that he took care of San.

Seonghwa's family was different.

Park Industries was a multinational technology conglomerate. It was founded by Seonghwa's grandparents, passed down to his father, and soon to his older brother. It was a world full of money that provided Seonghwa the luxury he lived in everyday. Everything in his life before becoming a successful model was hand-given to by his parents. His name and title, built by his own hands during his growth in modeling, was also tied to his family—a well known group of people in Seoul, South Korea. Because of them, Seonghwa was given most, rather than earned, and he knew that.

Seonghwa knew about the privilege he had based off his family name. It was equally a blessing and a curse.

Seonghwa believed in working for the things you wanted, rather than waiting around with your hand held out. Even from a young age, Seonghwa wanted to work hard for his passion in modeling. He put in the same amount of effort as anyone else and pleaded with everyone that he was treated fairly—no matter where he came from.

He was humbled. He refused to live any other way—but that didn't stop him from being blinded towards the secrets within the Park residency.

He lived in his own bubble full of friends, clothes, and tasty desserts. Unaware of anything that happens at home; which he so rarely visits. Seonghwa admired the way San's parents set dates for family meals during the week to make sure he ate well. Whereas Seonghwa's family only acknowledged their youngest son through email or phone calls.

Seonghwa's relationship with his family was…comfortable.

He never complained, even when he missed them—which wasn't too often, now that he was older and used to the distance. But he still felt lonely some nights…craving for a certain kind of affection that didn't only involve sleeping with someone, but that was an inner thought he kept stored away in the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about, other priorities—and San's attention was enough to keep him satisfied for the time being.

Haru, Seonghwa's older brother by four years, was their fathers prodigy. One day, when their father is no longer capable of running Park Industries, it'll be passed down to Haru. Everything will be under his name—every investment, every stock, every dime.

Seonghwa knew that the odds of him receiving any money when his parents pass was small, however not zero. So he works hard to make his own income, his own name, and his own brand.

He wasn't sad, not in the slightest. He grew up knowing Haru was the favorite—identical to their father, whereas Seonghwa was more like his mother. Dainty, feminine, an aura that radiated the colors of spring. They were close when he was younger—always attached at her hip and waiting for her whenever they were apart. Most emails or phone calls came from her, but as of late, she was distant. Both of his parents were. It made him question if there were any issues happening within the family business, but Seonghwa knew better than to ask. He knew nothing about the companies money or process with technology. So he keeps his mouth shut and stays within his own bubble unless he's summoned for a family event.

Speaking of events, there was one approaching soon, Seonghwa remembered. His brother mentioned over a previous phone call that there was going to be a ceremony to honor their family. Seonghwa was expected to show up and he had the choice to arrive alone or with a plus-one.

He wasn't entirely sure if that plus-one should be San or Yeosang.

Bringing San would spark unwanted conversations about their relationship that could drag on for hours. Were they dating? Why wasn't San working in finance to earn real money? If they weren't dating then what were their intentions with each other?

Possibly the only good thing that comes from Seonghwa's family was that they weren't completely ignorant about his sexuality or the way he dressed. They never minded—or at least never expressed that they did. But Seonghwa would rather jump off the nearest balcony than try to explain that his relationship with San was purely platonic and normally involved a bed.

As the afternoon went on and the photoshoot came to an end, Seonghwa spent his free time with Yeosang at a brunch shop to discuss anything and everything. As well as taking the time to relax after being blinded by camera flashes for four hours straight.

When he returned home and showered once more to finally wash his hair—he gave San a call; deciding to indulge in visiting him at his meet. It would be the first time he's witnessed a street race first hand. He wasn't entirely sure how he should dress for the occasion, but one thing about Seonghwa was that he never left the house without wearing a pair of Chelsea heeled boots.

Hongjoong's hardened gaze flickered across the screen of his computer rapidly. The mouse cursor hovered over multiple links that brought him to other pages with loaded information about Park Industries. His computer was on overdrive with all the information he's been collecting the past few months. Storing away every bit of detail in a private file that only he could access through a password.

Multiple articles fed him information about the current ownership between Jiyoung and Yeona Park. Jiyoung, business man and father, given the key to the largest company in Seoul by Seonghwa's grandparents—the previous owners before passing away two years ago. Haru Park, oldest son to Yeona and Jiyoung, mentioned to follow in his fathers footsteps.

The information Hongjoong managed to collect for his own desires were frequently looked over in hopes he would find something different. In his private file, full of Park Industry information, also included legal documents from his fathers death—paperwork that he's read over countless of times to tattoo every detail into his brain. There were things he didn't want to forget. Information he didn't want to miss or graze over for being lazy.

There was a photo for every name and several family portraits from events. Each photo only displayed the family of three, until Hongjoong continued to scroll further and found a photo of the youngest son; Park Seonghwa.

A self-made model with a net-worth of 80 million won. The least paid son in the Park residence—a family worth billions.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the numbers.

Money is still money. Power is power, He thought.

He clicked on Seonghwa's name where it was highlighted. Another page opened up after loading, and more images flashed across his face with information about his career, college degree, and relationships.

Park Seonghwa, as of recent, was single. No marriage or children. Twenty-seven years old, 5'10, successful model—walked multiple runways, featured on the cover of high-end magazines…the list went on. He was adored by the public, heavily sought out at parties and gatherings for business. Agencies that wanted connection—to be under the Park name with ties to the industries.

The site provided a link to the models Instagram. He clicked the blue colored link with ease and his eyes slowly widened as the page loaded in front of him.

He read his bio first, acknowledged the high followers count, then scanned over the first six photos that were displayed for the public to view. The first was recent—posted three days ago at a park with a large fountain. He stood alone, no specific pose, but wore a smile. His outfit looked casual, but expensive—layers upon layers with lace, a corset, and ribbons. A purse weighing over his shoulder that was definitely worth more than Hongjoong could make in a single night of racing.

It wasn't just his clothing that surprised him. His head shot photo on the previous site was old and he could tell due to the length of Seonghwa's hair. In the recent Instagram post, Seonghwa's hair reached his waist and was put in two regular braids with baby-blue ribbons intertwined.

He swiped to the next photo where Seonghwa stood with a friend. Kang Yeosang—another model with almost the same amount of followers as Seonghwa. But the Park son received more interactions. His likes were large and the comment section were filled with praises from fans, fashion companies, and accounts dedicated to him.

Hongjoong continued to scroll through the other posts. Behind the scenes photoshoots, pictures at yoga class, pottery making, cooking classes—anything that could be stapled as a hobby.

The racer rolled his eyes again. However his stomach dipped viewing another photo of the model—something that was taken in the safety of his own home. No makeup, lounge clothes, and a book sitting on his lap. Long dark hair sitting comfortably on the top of his head in a bun. It was also the only casual photo on his entire account.

He either had an image to maintain—or he was insecure.

Hongjoong snatched his pen off his desk and began jotting down the information he's collected through his search on the internet. Everything was scribbled and a visible mess—but he understood his chaotic process, nobody else needed to.

When he finished writing, he closed his book, tossed it into his desk drawer then shut off his computer. His lungs ached to breathe in something dangerous. His chest was tight and his brain was moving like a speedboat shoveling through the information he's collected this afternoon. He was getting closer to uncovering his fathers death. The people that were involved, the reason why his entire family other than his mother were wiped out—he was so close to understanding why…he could practically taste it.

The Park residence were the reason why his father was dead and the reason his mother lived in solitude. He just couldn't prove it—not yet.

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the table and plucked a stick out of the box before placing it between his lips. He exited his bedroom, jogging down the steps to step outside and have a smoke.

Mingi was in the kitchen creating lunch for himself. A sandwich, loaded with chips, and a beer. Claimed it was still healthy because his sandwich was full of salt and protein. The beer at three o'clock in the afternoon was something Hongjoong could never understand. He at least tried to save the alcohol for after five.

"Joong!"

He dropped his hand from the door before he could step outside. "What?"

"I made you a sandwich! Come eat."

"Buldak flavored chips on a sandwich doesn't sound too inviting to me," Hongjoong chuckled with the cigarette still hanging between his lips.

Mingi appeared in the living room with a visible pout. "I made yours without."

The older boy dragged his ring cladded fingers through his bleached hair. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between two fingers as he turned to his friend. "I need a smoke first, I'll be there in a second."

"Only reason why you need to smoke is because you stress yourself out," Mingi countered with raised eyebrows. "If you would just be a normal person and drink—you wouldn't have this problem."

"I'm pretty sure a smoking addiction is just as bad as a drinking addiction."

"Tomato-tamato." He waved the older boy off then grinned, gesturing for Hongjoong to follow him into the kitchen. "We have a race tonight, I'm celebrating early."

Hongjoong dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek before exhaling a defeated sigh. He put the stick back into its box then stuffed it into his back pocket before reluctantly following his roommate into their shared kitchen.

"You know you're going to win," Mingi continued, pulling out a chair for himself at the small square-shaped table. "We have some newcomers tonight…"

Hongjoong pulled out his chair next and sat across from his friend. He slouched back in the chair, eyes fixated on the scooby-doo-ass sandwich sitting directly in front of him. He used his finger to rub the corner of his eye as he spoke, "As long as I don't see Choi San, I don't give a fuck who's there."

Mingi took a sip from his beer. "Afraid you'll lose—?"

"—Mingi."

"It's bad luck to harbor all this bad energy right before the race! Who gives a fuck if he's there or not?"

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes towards his roommate. "Because he's my rival? And he's annoyingly cocky? He never shuts the fuck up when he wins and when he loses—you might as well have just killed his dog directly in front of him. He's annoying."

"Isn't that every racer?" Mingi questioned with a mouth full of his sandwich.

Hongjoong blinked as he turned his gaze away to focus on something other than his best friend stuffing his face.

"All I'm saying is," Mingi continued, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth, "when was the last time you raced for fun? Instead of depending on the money to save your life?"

The older boy raised his hand in slight disbelief. "Because it pays our bills?"

"Well…okay, yeah, that too. But still. You don't have fun anymore. You're either in your room stressing yourself out with all the weird research you do about your dad or you treat racing like you're joining the military. Can't you just leave the stress here at home for once?"

"What are you? My therapist?"

Mingi grinned, "I'd make a good therapist wouldn't I?"

Hongjoong's head lolled back against the chair. His best friend laughed, and the ceramic plate dragged across the table as he pushed his back once he devoured his meal.

"I think you just need to get laid."

"And I think you need to stop making these horrible sandwiches before I projectile vomit—seriously, Mingi, what the fuck is in this?" Hongjoong sat up straight and nervously peeled back the piece of bread covering whatever was sitting underneath.

"It's a delicacy."

Hongjoong stared down at the questionable meal—subtly shaking his head as his voice dropped down to a whisper. "I seriously pray for the next partner you get."

"You don't have to dress up, Hwa. It's just a race."

"Do you know who you're talking to right now?"

"Yes and I know you're on your fifth wardrobe change. Just dress warm! Wear one of your knitted sweaters or something."

Seonghwa held out a hanger with an outfit attached further away from his body so he could identify it properly. "I should skin you alive for even suggesting that." He held his cellular device between his ear and shoulder—standing completely naked with only a pair of silk underwear covering him below.

San chuckled deeply through the other line. "You're trying to make a first impression, I know you, but trust me when I say there's nobody here that needs to be impressed other than me."

"You don't know that," the model shrugged, hanging the outfit back up in his open wardrobe.

"Name five."

He stared down at his phone with a growing pout before retrieving another outfit. "You're being mean."

"No, I'm being logical. And if you miss out on me taking off…I'm going to cancel the dinner reservations."

Seonghwa stared at the clothing resting on the hanger. A white button down dress shirt larger than his normal sizing with a nude corset and a pair of washed jeans. He wondered how he would wear his hair and if he would apply any makeup.

"Park Seonghwa. Don't be a brat."

"I'm not being a brat," he responded, a visible pout still lingering on his lips. "Maybe I'm wanting to dress up for you, huh? Have you thought about that?"

"Of course I do, you're mine," San laughed.

Genuine but with humor—no title…just trust.

Seonghwa smiled, "okay, let me get dressed now. I'll see you in two hours, okay?"

"I'm not picking you up?" Before the model could respond, San inhaled the tiniest bit of air through the phone. "How the hell did you manage to get Yunho to be okay with taking you to a street race?"

"I didn't," he shrugged casually while laying his chosen outfit on the chair.

"You didn't?" San echoed.

"He doesn't know yet." Seonghwa exited his closet and walked into his bathroom—setting his phone on a small shelf next to the sink and turning San on speaker. "And he doesn't have a choice—I'm dragging him along for fun. When was the last time he's ever done something fun on his own?"

"Never. I don't even think he has hobbies outside of following you around like a robot."

Seonghwa laughed, reaching for one of his facial creams and popping the cap open. "Careful, you know he takes his job very seriously. Besides…I like spending time with him! He listens to me talk."

"Because he gets paid to."

"And now I'm hanging up." Seonghwa rolled his eyes and applied the cool cream to the under parts of his eyes. "I'll see you soon!"

"Alright," he laughed, "dress cute for me, bunny. I look forward to seeing you."

The line disconnected and Seonghwa instinctively clenched around the plug that was once again nestled inside of him after his shower.

He finished applying cream to his face and sticking with a minimal look for makeup. He used his curling iron to style his hair—adding several clips to pin back his hair behind his ears. Afterwards he decorated himself with jewelry. Earrings and rings to match his outfit—even going as far as changing his belly button piercing for something different.

When he put on his fresh clothes and stood in front of his tall standing mirror—he admired himself with a lingering smile. He felt beautiful being dolled-up.

It wasn't the first impressions from strangers that he necessarily cared about. It was mainly wanting to dress for himself—to feel good and feel clean. It was when he wore anything close to being considered normal outside of his home unless it was to a photoshoot. But even then, he dressed properly—not lazy.

If Seonghwa was seen out in public in a baggy graphic tee and a pair of sweats—then he's completely lost his mind.

He collected his phone, change of purse, and heels before he whisked himself down the stairs. Excitement coursed through him as a faint smile stretched across his lips. Yunho was waiting by the front door, still wearing his suit, and arms tucked behind his back while waiting patiently for Seonghwa.

"Where to?" He questioned.

"I have an address…but it's a surprise!" Before Seonghwa could reach the door, Yunho stuck his arm out in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

"Where are you dragging me tonight, Seonghwa?"

The model juggled his phone in his grasp—eyes wavering between his tall friend and the front door. "To one of Sannie's meets—"

"—No."

"—But you didn't even—"

"—No."

Seonghwa huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Come on, Yunho! I'm practically paying you to have fun. Don't you want to have fun?"

His body guard blinked.

The model rolled his lips inwards with a brief moment of silence washing over them both. Yunho's gaze remained heavy, whereas Seonghwa's wavered towards the ground. Sometimes this happened, where they went back and forth, sometimes standing in absolute silence until Yunho finally gave in and—

"Fine."

"Yay!" Seonghwa cheered with his cheeks growing round like apples. "But I'm staying the night with San afterwards so you can just go home and turn in for the evening. Or read, I know how much you like to read." He took a wide step around his bodyguard and walked out he front door with Yunho trailing behind.

"Then I'll pick you up in the morning."

"San can bring me home," Seonghwa shrugged, walking up to the car.

Yunho opened the door before Seonghwa could. He held it wide open, giving the model room to climb into the back seat and get settled before shutting it. He moved around to the other side and climbed into the drivers seat.

"You have a fitting tomorrow as well," Yunho mentioned as he buckled himself in.

Seonghwa sat his purse beside him on the seat. He crossed one leg over the other after mirroring Yunho's movements and buckling himself. He glanced at his house before they drove off and hummed thoughtfully.

"I have lunch with my family afterwards, too. So I'll be with them for awhile."

Something quick flashed over Seonghwa's features before he blinked and it disappeared. Yunho saw it almost immediately through the rearview mirror—a solemn look that the model only ever expressed if he thought about his family. It was always quick and short, never lingered long enough to be questioned, but Yunho knew Seonghwa. He also knew the Park family.

Seonghwa wasn't their star child like Haru was. Seonghwa was the outcast—never verbally stated, but certainly felt whenever he visited his family.

Yunho's gaze slowly focused back on the road ahead. He reached for the volume connected to the radio and turned it up by a hair before switching the music to something more of Seonghwa's preferred taste.

Once a current streaming pop song full of energy and bright aura started to spill between the speakers, Seonghwa's lips curled upwards with a pleased smile.

He shared the location of the car meet with Yunho—a drive that would take almost an hour to get to their destination. Yunho registered immediately that it was being held at an old airport that was no longer in use and certainly falling apart due to the lack of care it's received being abandoned.

When they arrived, Yunho parked the car nearby other vehicles on the outer part of the race. Before Seonghwa could climb out, Yunho reached across and held the back of the headrest for the passenger seat. He turned to the model—stern and seriousness lacing his voice.

"If we have to leave at any point because things become dangerous, you leave with only me, got it?"

Seonghwa blinked slowly before switching his expression to joy. "Don't worry, Yuyu, I know."

"You say that almost every time and then disappear from me. I usually spend a good hour or two trying to hunt you down."

"Maaaybe you need to learn how to keep up!"

Yunho's expression softened slightly—his demeanor changing right before Seonghwa's eyes as he gave him a subtle nod. "Uhm, try to have fun," he offered, knowing Seonghwa's energy shifted earlier from the mention of his family.

Seonghwa's chest swelled with warmth. He nodded, grabbing his purse off the seat beside him, and opening the door. "Thanks. I want you to have fun too."

"I don't have fun, Seonghwa. I work."

The model laughed thoughtfully. "I know…that's why I want you to have fun. Who knows—you might meet someone tonight!" He blew him a quick kiss before sliding out of the car.

Yunho grumbled something under his breath. He quickly turned the car off and followed Seonghwa—but not before tugging on the handle twice to make sure the car was actually locked before tucking the keys into his suit pocket.

Seonghwa stood on his toes as he passed through the large crowd in search for his friend. Yunho, trailing close behind, whispered apologies to everybody they passed—as well as frequently sticking out his arm to stop someone from getting too close to Seonghwa once they recognized who he was. Phones were pulled out and pictures were being captured as the model walked by.

It occurred to Seonghwa on the way there that people would most likely to photos of his appearance and post them to the internet with no shame. Although, it wouldn't be the first time him and San were seen together in the public-eye. Luckily for him the only thing the world really seemed to care about was how good he looked on the runway and how much money is parents were continuously making. Seonghwa was adored and envied by the younger crowd—people within his generation that understood the finer arts of fashion and modeling. Anything that provided an aesthetic for their Pinterest boards or future clothing style.

The media could paint whatever it wanted to, because at the end of the day, San and Seonghwa never kissed. And the odds of some fan exploiting the illegal street racing industry was entirely too small for him to actually grow concerned over.

San has always expressed how respectful the scene was—whether you lost to someone you hated or lost hundreds of dollars…there were rules. Rules in place for a reason. And the term 'snitches get stitches' wasn't only spoken in between playgrounds.

Seonghwa's eyes lit up with excitement. San, leaning back against the hood of his car with a lollipop rolling between his lips, and fans circling around him like sharks—he looked hot. A different type of hot that Seonghwa believed he knew all about, but this one in particular was sweaty, greasy, and buzzing to get behind the wheel to experience the full amount of adrenaline.

"FUCK! You're actually here!" San couldn't control the shock and enthusiasm in his voice seeing Seonghwa.

The model gracefully ran towards his friend, immediately jumping into his strong arms, and his feet lifting off the ground. He secured his hands around San's neck, a wide grin stretching across his lips as he spoke, "Surprised?"

"Damn right I am," San responded with the stick hanging between his lips. "Look at you—fuck. Is this supposed to keep me focused?"

He allowed Seonghwa's feet to touch the ground again but continued to hold onto his waist with his dark eyes flickering over the model's chosen outfit for the evening. He blushed under the lingering stares from the sea of strangers that surrounded him.

He settled his hands on San's broad shoulders and squeezed. "You're going to be driving around in solid metal that weights over two-thousand pounds…you better be focused."

San chuckled and retracted the sucker from his mouth with a soft pop. "Want a taste? It's strawberry. Your favorite."

The corner's of Seonghwa's mouth quirked upwards as he lolled his tongue out with his head tipping backwards. The street racer tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he rolled the wet candy along Seonghwa's tongue—allowing his taste-buds to activate to the sweetness until his lips wrapped around the circular mold.

San's throat bobbed. "Do you always have to make everything sexual?"

Seonghwa shook his head, pulling the sucker from his mouth but purposely hollowing his cheeks as he sucked. "No," he shrugged with another grin.

San let out a deep rooted groan through his throat and tugged his friend closer. He dipped his head between the space of Seonghwa's neck—nudging his nose along his jaw before slowly dragging his lips towards the models ear.

"You're not leaving here without me tonight."

"Didn't plan on it."

Yunho, standing miraculously close and silent, cleared his throat due to slight discomfort. The duo pulled away from each other to spare Seonghwa's bodyguard a glance. San huffed out a laugh and Seonghwa's blushed.

"So you actually came, huh?" San questioned.

Yunho blinked. His gaze only wavered a centimeter as if he was still keeping a close eye on everyone else around them.

"It's what I get paid for," he responded causally.

Seonghwa allowed his own eyes to wander mindlessly as San continued on with the conversation he was sharing with other people before the model ran up to him. He had his arm wrapped loosely around San's waist and his friend had his thrown around Seonghwa's shoulder. He voluntarily leaned into the warmth of his best friends body.

People crowded them to chat and ask questions—a visible vein appearing along Yunho's forehead due to the close proximity. Seonghwa didn't mind. He understood that everyone was excited and they wanted their voices to be heard over the blooming chaos between other cars and the music streaming through giant speakers.

The sound of engines echoed as more vehicles appeared.

The hairs on Seonghwa's arms stood straight up as he followed the direct sound of the cars that weaved through the crowd and ended up on the other side of the airport runway. The crowd that surrounded Seonghwa and San slowly separated. People ran across the runway to acknowledge the other racers that appeared—howling and shouting with excitement.

"Who's that?" The model questioned.

San's arm, still weighing over his shoulder, curled slightly to bring him in closer to his chest. "My competition."

Yunho, the paranoid person that he was—although did really well hiding it through his deadpanned expressions— stepped closer towards the duo with his gaze holding heavy over the new comers.

"How often do police get involved?"

"Only when there's a rat."

"How often do rats get involved?"

"Uhhh…guess it depends whoever is in a bad mood."

Seonghwa watched as the person driving the red car with black decal appeared out from the drivers side. His bleach blonde hair almost resembled the sun. His leather jacket moved with him as he stretched his arms above his head and acknowledged the crowd with a nod. He had a pair of black Chanel sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose—Seonghwa knew that label anywhere. And he knew what was real and what was considered fake. Those weren't fake.

Seonghwa blinked and suddenly that very person was making his way towards him and San—or rather just San. His stomach dipped curiously. The expression on the man's face when he stepped out of his own vehicle was calm, collected, visibly content to be at the race—as if it was his second home. But as he stalked closer towards the duo and his eyes were trained solely on San—his expression was more bitter and reserved.

Rivals, Seonghwa instantly thought.

He moved closer, slowly closing the distance between them, and the crowd soon gathered around like they were about to witness the biggest fight of their lives.

"Want to bet on something stronger than your courage to live?"

"Why? Afraid you'll lose?" San responded, body flexing and tensing beside Seonghwa all at once.

"Thought we could make it more interesting," he shrugged, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and placing a one between his lips.

Seonghwa allowed his gaze to wander along the strangers attire. He wasn't rich, not that he was judging, but he certainly dressed like he made money. There was a black band secured around his clothed bicep with a symbol unknown to Seonghwa. He was the only person to have one, and as Seonghwa continued to stare, the stranger turned to the model with an expression that instantly read filth.

His nostrils flared, his eyes raked down Seonghwa's figure with disdain, and a soft huff exited between his lips. The model was tempted to ask him what the fuck his problem was. He could see the tension in the boys jaw so visibly tight—Seonghwa was partly convinced he was going to break his teeth. But he turned before Seonghwa could even open his mouth. All he could see was a faint eye-roll just as he turned and the smoke that trailed behind from his now lit cigarette.

"Meet Kim Hongjoong. The greatest street racer in Seoul—or so he likes to think."

Seonghwa turned to his friend with his arms crossing over his chest and the lollipop weighing between his two fingers. "Why the hell did he look at me like I was his problem?"

"Because he's a dick?" San shrugged with his arm slipping away from Seonghwa's body frame. "He's taunting me. He does that."

"Well, whatever dick measuring contest you're both in—leave me out of it." His gaze flickered back towards the other cars where Hongjoong remained standing with three other men.

San chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his best friend on the forehead. "I'll get us some drinks." He turned, patting Yunho bravely on the chest. "Yunho! My guy! Want a drink?" Seonghwa fought the urge to roll his eyes but couldn't suppress his smile when San tried to include Yunho in anything ever.

"This suit costs more than your car and your hands are covered in grease—get off me, San."

"Alright! I'll be back."

Seonghwa leaned back against San's car now—taking his spot and keeping it warm as he flickered his eyes towards the competition. Yunho appeared beside him, paying extra close attention to Hongjoong.

"Are you wanting to leave?"

The model's forehead creased questionably. "What? No way! I'm staying, Yu."

"What about that guy?"

"I'm not going to let him think he can parade around like he's the shit and treat complete strangers like garbage. The people here might worship the ground he walks on but he hasn't met me yet." Seonghwa lowered his arms from his chest and rolled the candy on his tongue as it hung out between his lips.

Hongjoong turned his head away from his friends, his expression still as hard as a rock, and looked directly at Seonghwa. His eyebrows were pinched together—eyes narrowed and curiosity flickering across his face for the faintest second. He murmured something most likely to himself—Seonghwa wasn't sure what, but he watched as his lips move between the cigarette.

Hongjoong continued to stare at him in silence. His eyebrows remained knitted together behind the expensive shades while he inhaled the nicotine from his cigarette. His eyes flickered along Seonghwa figure, slowly, with the intentions of making his skin prickle under his designer clothing. Not a look that Seonghwa was familiar with between fans and friends, but something that read completely different. It was something that clearly indicated that the model was prey and Hongjoong was the predator.

He had him in his sights and he wasn't disappearing any time soon.

Seonghwa decided to raise his free hand with a smile and wiggled his slender fingers. The strawberry lollipop rolled across his lips lazily before they pursed to get another taste. His tongue poked out and he took the opportunity to drag the candy across his wet muscle while holding contact with the street racing standing on the opposite side of the road.

Hongjoong pinched the cigarette between his lips with two fingers and exhaled the drag through his nose.

Their eye contact didn't break—neither of them wanting to be the first to look away in a silent game of dominance until San reappeared directly in front of Seonghwa with alcohol. It wasn't until then that the model felt like he could breathe after subconsciously holding onto his breath like Hongjoong was holding onto that drag.

"Did you miss me?"

Seonghwa smiled fondly up at his friend and accepted the beer that was handed to him. "Of course. You know how cold I get when you're not around to warm me up."

"My apologies," San chuckled, putting his arm back around Seonghwa's shoulder to pull him close. "So what do you think? Is it what you imagined to be or better?"

"Compared to what I've read in books?" Seonghwa glanced at San then shrugged. "A fashion show is more intimidating than this." His attention was pulled towards the other side where laughter carried among the ground of friends that Hongjoong surrounded himself with.

There was a boy, younger than Seonghwa surely, that stepped out of the bright pink car with silver decal minutes ago—his laughter echoed and caused the others to smile.

Someone stood beside him—someone taller with dark hair and several blue streaks. He was covered almost head to toe with silver jewelry. Necklaces, rings, and chains that hung around the belt loops of his jeans. The third person standing next to him had kinder eyes and a rounder face. He smiled brightly at something one of them said and his gums appeared. His height was smaller than the other guy, but his build was large and thick. His laughter was full of joy and life…Seonghwa thought of Yeosang instantly.

"What was that thing on his arm? Hongjoong." Seonghwa decided to ask.

San shifted beside him, his fingers caressing the model's arm tenderly, but also pressing his body further into his to keep him warm. "It's a racer's band. There's only one and the only way to get it is to beat the person that has it. And to do that…well, you need to win a certain amount of races. It gains you respect—instantly."

Something clicked inside Seonghwa's brain. He lifted his chin as he slouched against San—his eyebrows lifting curiously. "And you're his rival because you're almost catching up to him?"

"Pretty much." San smiled proudly to himself and took a sip from his alcohol. "He's had that band for years—six years to be exact. Nobody has been able to come close to the amount of wins he has stashed under his belt."

"Until you came around…"

"Damn right," he chuckled. "Just a few more and I can snatch that band directly off his arm. He'll never be able to tell me shit anymore."

Seonghwa couldn't comprehend how someone could remain undefeated for six years straight. That meant Hongjoong dedicated his life to these races. It almost made him wonder what he did on his free time or if he had any family he saw regularly. How many races did he join throughout the week? Do the wins have to be consecutive? Or did it only matter how many times someone has won a race? In that case Hongjoong must've won way over a hundred.

The questions kept brewing in Seonghwa's mind and then he had to remind himself that this boy nearly spit on the ground directly in front of him without even knowing his name. There was no way Hongjoong was spending this amount of time thinking about him either. By tomorrow, Seonghwa will be a distant memory to him—nothing more than the boy he felt the urge to piss off.

San glanced down at his watch the same time the cars began lining up a few feet ahead of the crowd. "I need to go. It's my time to shine."

Seonghwa took a step back. He eyed the beer in San's grasp and lifted his eyebrow. "You're going to drive after drinking?"

His friend handed him the bottle—which weighed reflectively full which meant San only had less than five sips. Relief washed over the model and San smiled at him. A smile full of reassurance and a bit of brewing excitement to get behind the wheel and race.

"It's my first drink of the night, I promise." He flashed Seonghwa a wink and climbed into his blue car with white stripes and silver details along the front.

Yunho placed a hand on Seonghwa's shoulder and silently guided him towards the sidelines where others waited. San's car joined the others behind the visible red line where a girl stood in front with her crimson red bra waving in the air.

Something stirred in Seonghwa's stomach. A feeling he usually got whenever he stepped on the runway.

Excitement? No. Adrenaline.

Each car revved and jumped with their own anticipation. The music booming between the speakers drawled out when the cars shot forward once the bra was flagged down. Exhaust pipes popped and the colors between each car became a sudden blur.

Seonghwa's heart skipped against his chest. Even Yunho watched as the vehicles skid across the pavement down the runway and disappearing into the night to do several laps before coming back. For a brief moment, Seonghwa wondered what it must've felt like to sit behind the wheel and have full control over something so dangerous—yet spontaneous. It couldn't have just been the money as a reason Hongjoong did this for several years. He must've enjoyed the thrill that came along with it…as well as the title and everything else. If you only worked for your money, was it really a job at all?

You don't have to love your job, but you at least have to like it more than you hate it, right?

Seonghwa blinked—his eyebrows furrowing with a slight shake of his head. He wasn't sure why his first thought was something about Hongjoong and not San. His best friend was racing directly in front of him for the first time. That was as powerful as Seonghwa standing under the spotlight and posing for over hundreds of people in Paris or Milan.

The tips of Seonghwa's fingers prickled when the cars began making their way back towards the crowd.

"Do you feel that?" He whispered.

Yunho quirked an eyebrow. "Feel what?"

"The ground shaking."

There were six engines currently hauling down the street with pure Nos flowing through every pipe that was intertwined. Seonghwa felt it first in his toes, then the feeling traveled up his to his knees, and thighs. As they shook and his mouth dried, San's car managed to maneuver around Hongjoong's. It jerked forward, leaving Hongjoong and the four other racers far behind until he reached the finish line.

Seonghwa reached up to hover his hand over his heart. It pounded wildly against his ribcage.

San won.

The crowd erupted in cheers and shouts. Spurts of liquor shot out like rain as if someone shook a bottle of champagne and caused it to explode among the crowd out of pure joy.

San climbed out of the car and dragged both hands through his hair as people surrounded him to bask in his victory. The other cars stopped directly behind them—each racer slowly piling out. A large roll of cash was thrusted into San's hand. He accepted it with pride, but his gaze flickered around the sea of strangers until he found Seonghwa.

The model didn't hesitate to rush forward. His feet were lifted off the ground, his arms thrown around his friends neck, and all he could see were the stars hanging above his head.

His mouth stretched wide, his slender fingers cradled San's jaw. "You won! You did it, Sannie! You won!"

San's laughter boomed louder than the music still threading through the speakers. His eyes flashed wide—a look of shock strewn across his face like he couldn't believe it himself. Seonghwa's feet touched the ground, his hands still holding onto San as the boy received multiple high-fives from strangers.

There was so much adrenaline pumping through Seonghwa. He wasn't the one behind the wheel, but he could feel the confidence and pride radiating off of San. There would be a celebratory dinner afterwards. Seonghwa would sit and happily listen to his best friend ramble about everything that happened tonight—even if he didn't fully understand what it took to be a racer, he would give San his undivided attention. And of course, the sex that was sure to come after…that also made the flame in Seonghwa's stomach flicker.

The model bravely allowed his gaze to wander through the crowd. He found Hongjoong standing next to his car.

"He lost? He actually lost?" The words rolled off Seonghwa's lips before he had the chance to process his statement. He was happy for San, truly, but confusion still washed over him.

San kissed Seonghwa's cheek. His voice was laced with humor as he spoke, "He was distracted. Serves him right."

Seonghwa's stomach tightened when Hongjoong's hardened gaze met his own. He must've felt them talking about him. His jaw was tense and his glare was deadly. The model watched as the boy's chest heaved with lingering adrenaline still thumping through his system. Then his eyes flickered to the band wrapped around his bicep—the fabric clinging to him like it didn't deserve to be anywhere else.

Questions started rattling around in Seonghwa's brain. Things he shouldn't care about, but now sparked interest in his curiosity. He wanted to come back. He wanted to explore San's world and witness everything that came along with it.

San picked a nice restaurant to take Seonghwa out to a little over an hour after the race officially ended.

They each returned home to change and clean up. Seonghwa sent Yunho home for the evening then waited for San's arrival. He had a small over-night bag packed, along with fresh clothes to wear for tomorrow's fitting.

Dinner was already devoured and they moved onto wine with dessert. They've been sitting at the table for almost two hours indulging in stories with laughter. Stories about college, their minimum-wage jobs, and everything that slowly led up to where they were now. These were the moments Seonghwa relied on to feel at ease whenever he needed a spark of confidence to keep living.

He wasn't depressed by any means…he lived a good life, but it grew lonely sometimes, and San was one of the few closest people to him.

"Can I ask a question about the race?" Seonghwa questioned, after retracting the spoon from his mouth. Strawberry flavored chocolate coated his tongue and his lips until he licked the corners of his mouth to collect the delicious flavor from his dessert.

San was in the middle of eating his own, shoulders slouched, head bowed—cheeks the size of the moon. He was mid-bite when he nodded.

"Why don't you and Hongjoong get along?"

He lifted his head a centimeter with his eyebrows raising.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "Okay, besides the obvious reason. I'm just a little confused." He lowered his spoon and collected another piece of the fluffy chocolate cake. "You said he's been racing for six years…you don't lose the armband when you lose? I thought that was the point? How many races do you have to win to earn that band?"

San slouched back in his seat and used his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth. "I don't think anyone really knows how many he's won."

"But it's been six years. So does he race every night?"

"I thought you wanted to know more about me and not my competition?"

He smiled, eating the bite he collected on his spoon before speaking again. "I didn't expect myself to enjoy it as much as I did…I want to see another race. But it's like watching sports, no? I need to know the rules so I can understand the game."

San swayed his head side to side. "True. To be fair, Hongjoong is a closed-off guy. He's also not the only person to own an armband. There's a few that's been given around Seoul, but it's becoming rare for anybody to take it from someone. These people that have been doing it for years…they're good." He adjusted his position on the chair to get comfortable, his legs stretched out underneath the table and bumped softly against Seonghwa's. "So, yeah, racing for six years means he has a lot of wins. Maybe well over hundreds, who knows. But any time I beat him, he gets a stick up his ass, and it makes me wonder if it's not over a hundred and he's scared. I've won quite a few…so am I catching up to him? Or does he just hate losing that much?"

Seonghwa thought about it for a moment. He also contemplated changing the subject because he wasn't entirely sure why he even cared. The questions continued brewing and if it weren't for the way Hongjoong reacted earlier that evening, he probably wouldn't have cared that much.

However, Hongjoong was dangerous, not only by his glares but how attractive he was.

It's been years since Seonghwa has ever willingly looked at someone for that long. To get a fire in the pit of his stomach with the growing urge to piss someone off just to see how they would react. He enjoyed baiting people. Sometimes he did it with San whenever they wanted to spice up the evening.

Now he was wondering if Hongjoong had great self control—or if he was the kind of person to easily lose himself and throw someone on the nearest counter space for punishment.

What the fuck.

Seonghwa blinked hard to erase the images that were beginning to form in his mind. San stared at him from across the table, then shook his head with a shrug.

"Anyways, it's just an ongoing thing. If you're worried about me, don't be, I'm a big boy."

Seonghwa slowly glanced down at the remaining dessert on his plate. His grip on the spoon loosened—not realizing it had tightened over the few seconds he thought about someone else bending him over and slapping his ass a few times.

His best friend was sitting directly across from him. The same guy that brought him so much laughter and so much pleasure. He never slept with anyone else outside of their mutual arrangement—not that they explicitly said they couldn't see other people—but he still felt a pang of guilt for even letting himself entertain the idea for the faintest second.

"If you could go back in time to tell your nineteen-year old self that you were going to be a super model traveling the world to walk runways…how would you react?"

Seonghwa laughed softly. "I would tell my future self that he was full of shit."

San's expression flickered with sudden shock. "Really? You didn't think you were going to get this far?"

His lips pursed and his gaze flickered towards the singular light hanging over their table. "To be fair, everything was handed to me for the longest time. Why do you think I worked retail and food-chains? I wanted the experience…I want to make my own schedule and my own money." He tucked a stand of long dark hair behind his ear. He combed through it several times before twisting several smaller braids that scattered around his head. He had a few gold clips securing the left side of his hair behind his ear. When they arrived together to the restaurant, the hostess had mistaken Seonghwa as a woman—it caused the deep rooted flame in the pit of his stomach to flicker excitedly.

"However," he continued softly, "I know when people look at me…they think I don't have a back-bone. That I'll crawl to my parents when I don't get my way."

"I don't think that," San quickly dismissed, earning an eye-roll from the model in return.

"Of course you don't Sannie. Other people."

He sat up straighter with his thick fingers curling around the stem of his wine glass. "Tell me who, Hwa. I'll run them over with my car." The corner of his mouth curved and warmth blossomed in Seonghwa's chest.

"Remember that old friend of mine? Laci Emerson? She moved to Paris and we shared a few schedules together for photoshoots and runway."

San thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, didn't she come to visit once?"

He hummed. "I introduced her to some of my work friends—Yeosang. We got dinner together and drank…while I was in the bathroom she let it slip that she was only getting to know me because of my last name." His soft gaze slowly fell on the liquid in his glass. The alcohol moved as he twirled the glass between his fingers. "A name can hold a lot of responsibilities…it can also be the reason why you don't have many genuine friends. People would rather judge you on the outside rather than look beneath the surface to catch a glimmer of light."

Unintentionally, he immediately thought about the race. He thought about the death glares Hongjoong sent him almost all night. The way his lips curved with inner distaste as if he got a whiff of Seonghwa and was repulsed by his smell.

"For what it's worth," San started, "you're the greatest friend I could ever ask for. A loyal one at that. You've never judged me…not once. Not for my choices, not for my career, not for anything." He tipped his head back with the glass touching his bottom lip. His throat moved as he sipped the remaining bit of wine he had left. "I knew I wanted to be your friend the moment I met you in college."

Seonghwa huffed out a soft laugh. His eyes rolled, his chin lowering into the palm of his hand. "Yeah, right. Now you're just making shit up."

"I'm not," he laughed. "Remember the first time we met? Third period with Mr. Ashworth."

"Sociology." Seonghwa nodded.

"We were assigned partners for a project but you didn't want to sit with Jiwoo Jeong because he once called me a babo. So you sat down next to me instead and blurted that you wanted to be a model one day. This was freshman year of college, mind you, but I thought you were the funniest person. You had your doubts but you knew what you wanted and you didn't give up until you had it."

His mouth slowly gaped open while his brain tried to conjure the quickest response possible that didn't involve tears. San was always good at pulling these emotions from the model. It comforted him and made him feel seen. There was a reason why they were friends and why it's lasted for eight years. San was Seonghwa's rock.

He gently brushed under his nose with one finger and averted his gaze somewhere else. He sniffled, forcing himself to smile. "Well, I don't know why I was so intended on having a degree in psychology when I already knew what I wanted to do with my life."

"Do you want to the real answer that we both know or will it kill the mood?"

Seonghwa laughed. "Don't ruin the mood, Sannie. I know the real answer."

His family. That was it—as plain as day. He could chalk it up to be a 'back-up plan' if modeling fell through as much as he wanted, but at the end of the day, it was because he believed taking a career path that would force him to wear a suit just to impress his parents. Then he wouldn't have felt himself and he wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be this.

"Did you eat enough?" San decided to ask after a heartbeat of silence passed between them.

"Mm. Should we take some dessert home?" Seonghwa reached for the smaller menu tucked away towards the corner of the table. He flipped it open and read every option available that he didn't already eat.

"Do you want the real answer that we both already know?"

Seonghwa's eyebrow raised and his chin tipped upwards to catch the lingering stare from his friend. "What are you insinuating?" As if he could forget.

The corner of San's mouth curved upwards. "I won my race tonight. I already have my dessert sitting right in front of me."

Heat pooled into Seonghwa's stomach as his throat bobbed. He slowly closed the menu and tried to lower his gaze off the man sitting across from him, but San had a way of making it feel like they were the only two people in the room. Which in fact, they weren't, and it wouldn't take a genius to notice the tension shift between them both.

"You're not even shameful about it." Seonghwa huffed out a gentle laugh and drank the rest of the wine sitting in his glass. His body was buzzing but not from the alcohol.

"I've never heard you complain about it before." San leaned forward, his arm dipping underneath the table, and his hand grazing across Seonghwa's knee. "Tell me you have it in you right now."

He raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence with a shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about."

San's eyes shifted downwards for a split second. His lips twitched wider and something dangerous flickered across his face. The scorching flame licked at the insides of Seonghwa's body as he voluntarily clenched around the plug that was still nestled inside of him.

"And I'm the one that's shameless?" He questioned with ease.

Seonghwa smirked.

"Have you been wearing it the whole time?"

He leaned back comfortably in his chair and crossed one leg over the other—using the point of his heel to brush along San's leg.

His throat bobbed. "The race?"

Seonghwa tilted his head and met San's burning gaze. "Are you going to take me home and fuck me against the door Sannie? Or are we going to sit here another hour and discuss calories on the dessert menu?"

San's mouth gaped open before slowly shutting. He leaned back in his chair and raised his arm. "Check!"

It took only five minutes to pay for dinner and walk out the building then ten to get in San's car and head back to his apartment. The entire time Seonghwa's heart pounded against his chest with excitement. He clenched around the gem plug and couldn't wait to present himself to San on his king size mattress.

Once they crossed the threshold of San's front door and managed to kick their shoes off—they were on each other like lions during mating season.

San's mouth collided with Seonghwa's neck and bite down on the sensitive part he favored the most. The pulse-point. A spot that instantly made Seonghwa's toes curl and for a mewl to fly past his lips.

Seonghwa was fully prepared for whatever tonight might bring. He won his race, they shared an expensive dinner, and now everything that's been slowly brewing the past few hours was about to unleash on every surface in the apartment. Seonghwa's stomach curled with thrill. He wanted to be pulled apart then put back together piece by piece just from San's cock alone. He purposely kept the anal plug lodged inside of him even during dinner so there wouldn't need to be any prep and San could slip right in. There was going to be enough precum to lubricate the both of them—the tension and heat within the car proved that they were both ready.

"Maybe we should've brought dessert home," San murmured in between the kisses he scattered along Seonghwa's neck. "I would've eaten it directly off your body."

"Next time," the model promised. He pushed his friend against the door and sunk to his knees with his legs spreading wide. "Put your cock in my mouth Sannie, it's all I can think about right now."

"God, I love it when you're cock drunk and I haven't even touched you yet." San unbuckled his belt then unzipped his black dress pants after popping open the button.

Seonghwa greedily reached for the hem of his pants and yanked them down far enough that he could pull out San's throbbing cock. He almost drooled at the sight and had to force himself to swallow the saliva that collected instantaneously. His slender fingers wrapped around the warm base and his tongue lolled out to lick slowly up his already leaking tip.

San's head tilted back against the wood of the door. His hand sunk into Seonghwa's hair—not gripping or tugging, but gently holding the back of the older boy's head to prepare for what he was about to unleash.

Seonghwa loved having his mouth full almost as much as he loved having his hole filled. Something about making San fall apart directly above him but just his mouth always sent him into a frenzy. He liked starting off in command and working him towards his release—but then he also enjoyed making San ram into his mouth until he was physically gagging. The idea always sent a lightning bolt directly down his spine to the tip of his cock.

Maybe they should've done more foreplay before getting into this position. The tension they shared this morning before work already washed away like waves rippling back from the sand. That's how it usually was for them. They did their business then went on about their day—but Seonghwa was feeling a little more desperate tonight.

He wanted sex to be fun and adventurous. He wanted more than what San was already willing to give him. He needed something to subside the dull ache in his groin that urged to be tested past his usual limits.

He licked and sucked San's cock to get it wet. His fingers stroked the base and played with his balls before he collected them in his mouth and sucked tenderly enough to make San cry out in pleasure.

He pulled his head back—his lips pursing against San's plump tip before he gave it a delicate kiss. "Sannie," he spoke and his friend looked down at him with a lustful gaze. "I want to try something different."

San massaged the back of Seonghwa's head—his chest heaving with excitement as the model leaned his face against his hip…mouth directly next to his cock and lashes fluttering up at him. He was a fucking vision. A bunny that silently begged to be ruined for hours on end until he couldn't take anymore.

"I want to get myself ready for you in the bedroom. But pretend you're getting home from a race…a race that you've won…and the first thing you see is me sprawled out on your bed waiting for you." Seonghwa lazily licked the vein on the underside of San's cock, earning a gentle hiss in return. "I want you to fuck me as fast as you drive. Please?"

They've never done role-play before…granted Seonghwa wasn't even one-hundred percent sure if it counted as such. But he wanted to try sex from a different angle. He wanted San to have full control—to pound Seonghwa into the mattress until it left an imprint of his body. Their sex was never tame by any means, Seonghwa wasn't bored of it, but it was certainly missing something that didn't spark until the race. Seonghwa wasn't entirely sure what he wanted—but he knew he wanted to be fucked so hard his body had no other choice but to get pregnant.

San reached for Seonghwa's biceps and hauled him back to his feet. Their faces were inches apart—San's eyes scattered slowly across the models face before he spoke.

"You have fifteen seconds. Go. Now."

Seonghwa's chest expanded as he breathed in. As he turned, San landed a firm slap against his right cheek—earning a squeal in response.

He ran through the apartment and nearly stumbled into San's room due to the adrenaline coursing desperately through his veins. He closed the bedroom door and quickly stripped himself out of his clothes—folding them as neatly as possible and setting them on the nearest cushioned chair stationed by the corner of the room.

He crawled onto the mattress on all fours. He grabbed one of San's pillows and positioned it underneath his body before relaxing his upper-half against it with his hips in the air. He could feel the plug moving around inside of him, and the heart-shaped jewel was facing directly in front of the bedroom door. Giving San no other choice but to notice it first when he walks in. He immediately wondered how San would approach the offer—would he jump right into fucking him? Would there be any foreplay? Sometimes it depended on what mood each of them were in…but Seonghwa was hoping that winning the race placed the best odds for the evening.

He could hear the floorboard creaking underneath every step San took. There were no words to describe how Seonghwa felt in that very moment. He could hear his heart wildly beating through his ear-drums.

The bedroom door opened and closed with a soft click. Seonghwa's fingers curled around the bedding—bracing himself.

"Is this for me?"

His soft caramel voice flittered around the room. His warm palm settled against Seonghwa's lower back—directly over the dimples that revealed whenever he perched himself like a gift. San's thumb grazed over the jewel between Seonghwa's cheeks and his entire body shuddered.

"Have you been waiting for me long? Did you get yourself ready after hearing I won my race? Is this my prize?" The faint sound of metal brushing against each other indicated that San unbuckling his belt after re-buckling it out in the living room.

He's playing with me, Seonghwa thought with a smile growing on his lips.

The model bit down on his lower lip, a faint moan curling up his throat when San gently spread his legs wider. "If I had known any better…I would think you're desperate for me." San's warm hand returned to his backside again while the whoosh of his belt being tugged out from the loops echoed. "I can see the come dripping from your slit onto my bed."

"Want you so bad," Seonghwa mewled.

"You want to be played with?"

He nodded.

"Split open at the seams until you can't think anymore?"

Again, he nodded, but more eagerly. "Yes, please."

San was working himself out of his pants. The material dropped softly to the ground, followed by his cotton black shirt and kicked the articles of clothing off to the side and out of the way. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Seonghwa's right cheek while his other hand lazily stroked the jewel.

"I almost want to keep this inside of you…but it's been keeping you open for hours, hasn't it? Preparing you for my cock." He stood straight. Seonghwa held his breath when he felt San's hand settle on his lower back and the other curl around the plug with the intentions of pulling it out. "Do you know what this means, bunny?"

He shook his head.

San smirked. "I'm going to have to stuff it back into you once I'm done filling you up. I don't want a single drop being wasted."

The mere concept of Seonghwa being filled to the brim could easily send him into an orgasm. His eyes rolled back with his chest fluttering with excitement. He needed it. He wanted it more than anything.

"I want all of it." Seonghwa mindlessly nodded, his grasp on the sheets tightening as his cock pulsed desperately against the sheets. He was half tempted to hump the pillow nestled underneath him but he knew good things came to those that waited. "Fuck me, Sannie. Claim your reward…you worked so hard for it."

He hummed in response. His fingers curled around the jewel and finally, slowly retracted it from Seonghwa's hole with a gentle pop. His eyes dilating as he watched the muscle twitch to relax to its natural state but remain open due to the endless hours it remained full. San's own cock jumped at the sight and he had to physically keep himself from diving forward and plunging himself into Seonghwa's awaiting hole. His chest tightened—eager—elevated.

"Lube, bunny?"

He shook his head against the mattress. "No lube. Want it just like this…"

"Rules?"

He took a deep breath—his eyes fixated on the mirror stationed at the corner of the room that gave him the perfect view of San standing behind him. "Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is I need a second."

"Safe word?"

"Origami."

San leaned over Seonghwa's back and tucked a strand of hair behind the models ear. His plush lips brushed across the sensitive lobe, biting down on it gently before whispering, "Scream for me, bunny."

Seonghwa had half a second to collect whatever remaining thoughts that stirred in his brain before San slowly slipped into him with pure ease. The jeweled plug landed directly next to Seonghwa on the bed and a moan tore from him immediately when San pressed his hips directly against his ass. Firmly. No space left to create any distance between them.

San's fingers wrapped around the long locks that rested along Seonghwa's back—curling them around his knuckles with a flick of his wrist. His heart pounded heavier against his ribcage with brewing anticipation. He was already breathing heavily even though San was giving him a chance to adjust to his size.

With a soft tug of his hair and his face lifting off the mattress—San retracted his hips until only his tip was wedged between Seonghwa's hole then snapped his hips forward.

If it weren't for the fact he had a grip on Seonghwa's hair, the model would've surged forward from the force. His eyes grew wide briefly—mouth gaping open with silva coating his tongue. San repeated the action three times before deeming both of them ready. With another tug and Seonghwa's head tipping back willingly—San began pounding into him like he was pressing on the gas and darting across the starting line of his race.

The clapping of skin and moans rolling off the models tongue was the infinite chanting that he heard at the old airport. His eyes were glued to the mirror across the room as he watched San drill into him as if it had been weeks without fucking.

His slender fingers expanded against the comforter. Flexing and gripping repeatedly every time San's cock brushed against his prostate.

"F-Fuck," he moaned after gaining the ability to engulf a large breath of air.

San's smirk through the reflection of the mirror was dangerous. He was solely focused on the way his cock moved in and out of Seonghwa. "You think I can go faster? Show you what it's really like to drive a car barreling down the street at 120mph?"

"Yes! Please, please, please," Seonghwa chanted, the ache in his neck already forming from how tightly San was gripping his hair.

"I bet you'd fucking like that." A primal growl rolled off San's chest like steam. "You only ever want it fast and hard. Do I even need to say it? Do I need to call you a slut? Huh, bunny?" Seonghwa was already seeing stars. There was no way he was going to be able to form a coherent sentence at this very moment—especially when San lifted his gaze and stared at Seonghwa through the mirror. "Greedy fucking cock-slut. That's what you are. But it's mine—my hole—my body to devour, isn't it?"

Seonghwa managed to nod but couldn't suppress the moans that escaped him every time San snapped his hips forward at a bruising pace. "Ye—yes! Fuck, Sannie!"

His back burned beautifully from the way it perched perfectly for San to fuck into. His perky ass subconsciously bounced backwards to meet every thrust as if what was given to him already wasn't enough. His hole clenched and flexed around San's cock—the prominent veins along the base rubbing against the rim of his hole each time.

"How many times do you want to come tonight, huh? Two? Three?"

"W-Whatever you want! Just don't stop!" Tears formed at the corners of Seonghwa's eyes as he wailed from the pleasure.

His cock jumped against the bedding. Each time San snapped his hips forward, Seonghwa's leaking tip would brush against the pillow—creating the perfect friction between the material and his abdomen. He was going to cum no matter what even without being touched.

San's grip on his hair disappeared before it settled along the curve of his back. He pushed down firmly—forcing Seonghwa's entire body to lie pin-straight as San fucked into him. His hole spasmed wildly when the model realized that San was trying to make every thrust tighter. The plug riled him up, but he once stated that he enjoyed nothing more than breaking Seonghwa open every time. It made him more determined to drive Seonghwa closer to the edge and frequently change positions to make the model cum.

The safe word was only ever used once. Right after Seonghwa came four times and he was convinced his dick was going to fall right off due to the sensitivity. San took care of him for the rest of the day—forcing after-care on the model even though he pleaded that he was fine.

San settled both of his hands on Seonghwa's waist—forcing his hips back to meet every thrust as he rammed into him like his life depended on it.

The model was seeing stars instantly. His eyes fluttered closed for the faintest second when he felt warm spurts of cum coating his skin. However, he wanted more—he wanted so much more that it didn't matter if he was exhausted.

"You cum for me like a good boy, bunny?"

He nodded eagerly. San's soft tone of voice bringing him back down from cloud nine. "Y-Your sheets—" He couldn't get the entire sentence out. San wasn't stopping, except for the faint laughter that followed.

"Fuck my sheets. I'll clean them after—come here." The last two words came out softer than the other previous ones.

Seonghwa blinked and suddenly he was being rolled over onto his back in the opposite direction of where his orgasm laid against the bedding. San's warm hand caressed underneath his thigh and his leg was propped over his broad shoulder—giving him an entirely new position to play with.

He watched in a daze as San collected spit between his lips and dribbled it onto his cock resting in his grasp. Seonghwa moaned at the sight, his fingers reaching for the sheets again like he needed to anchor himself for more. San smeared the glob of spit around the head of his cock before slowly slipping back into the models awaiting hole with a drawled out groan.

"I'll never get tired of fucking this greedy hole." His dark eyes found Seonghwa's as he pushed in. His thick eyebrows knitted together—pleasure immediately filling the both of them as he continued rocking into Seonghwa but at a slower pace now.

"I don't want you to ever stop," Seonghwa breathed out—unable to peel his gaze off of San's.

"I know you don't, baby. That's why I called it a greedy hole. It only ever thrives to be stuffed full like a fucking pastry." He tilted his head and brushed his lips along Seonghwa's calf. Their gaze's held for a singular heart beat, then San reeled his hips back before snapping them forward with a muffled grunt.

Seonghwa's eyes rolled back. His lips parted with ecstasy and everything else—well, it didn't matter. His entire body was on fire and all he could see was stars.

San resumed his brutal pace but with a new view of Seonghwa's hair creating the perfect halo around his head. His face was flushed—body glistening in sweat, and beads of cum coating his skin where his cock continued to bounce along his abdomen due to every thrust. He was a vision. A sight that never grew old for San to enjoyed every time they were together like this.

"Bunny," San hummed breathlessly to gain the models attention. He opened his eyes, awaiting a command. "I want you to play with your cock while I fuck you. Let me get a taste. I deserve it, don't you think?"

He nodded with his own breathing labored. He reached for his cock where it stood at attention once again and collected the pearly beads of cum that coated his slit along his finger tips. The delicate touch caused sweet moans to roll off his tongue—his eyes grew heavy, pure desire surging through him as he raised two fingers towards San's mouth and watched as the man wrapped his lips around both digits.

San's tongue swirled around Seonghwa's slender fingers. He sucked and licked every drop that was collected. His teeth grazed the tips of his fingers before biting down, earning a hiss from the model in return.

"Sannie," he moaned out pathetically, now using his other hand to rub his pebbled nipples.

He sucked on the models fingers before pulling back with a soft pop. He leaned his cheek into Seonghwa's hand before nudging his chin against it as a silent command to continue what he originally asked for.

Seonghwa reached for his wasted cock and began stroking it with leisurely movements. His thumb brushed along the slit and his head tipped back with a desperate mewl. While his other hand continued to play with his nipples, San's thrusts grew shallow—indicating he was reaching his own peak.

Seonghwa deliberately clenching around his cock with each thrust. His wrist flicked and his hand swirled around his leaking tip as he watched San grow focus on the way his cock disappeared into Seonghwa's hole. Memorized with the way it grabbed onto his cock for dear life—silently begging to be pounding into without any desire of stopping. Sweat coated along his forehead and Seonghwa watched as it slowly trickled down his temple.

"Sannie, I'm—I'm gonna cum." He tried to keep his hand moving, but his strokes were becoming slopping as his cock pulsed within his grasp.

San nodded above him, releasing a deep-rooted groan when Seonghwa's hole flexed around him repeatedly. "Cum with me, bunny. Right now—cum."

He squeezed around his aching tip, his jaw falling slack, and his cock pulsing like a heartbeat in his palm. San thrusted forward once more and they came simultaneously—hot ropes of cum filling every inch inside of Seonghwa, as well as falling over his chest from his own release.

It was so good—so incredibly delicious and all he could do was lay there and take it until San had the strength to stop.

He took a singular step backwards, allowing his cock to slip from Seonghwa's aching hole but spread the model's legs further to watch the cum slowly drip out of him. "Fuck, look at you, bunny…" He reached for his cock and used the tip to push the leaking cum back into his hole—earning a string of tired moans from Seonghwa in return.

"Feels so good," the older boy murmured, eyes glossing from the pleasure. "I can take one more, Sannie—please. Please I want it."

"Then why don't you come lick me clean before I finish you off?" San reached for one of Seonghwa's hands and guided him to sit up on the bed. "Come taste the mess you've made of me, baby. Clean it up for me before I create another."

A new wave of excitement shot down his spine once he sat up and took in the vision that was San. Covered in sweat—hair tussled as if he was frequently coming it back—cum coating his dick. His muscles were bulging everywhere. His cock, even after just cumming, still stood ready for another round to send Seonghwa through the mattress.

He carefully climbed down to the floor directly in front of San. He could feel the cum dripping out of his hole and down his legs. His mouth salivated at the sight of San's cock sitting desperately in front of his face. His tongue rolled out and he wasted no time to collect the remain cum coating him with a pleased hum. He reached up to hold the base, focusing on kitten licking the slit first and giving the tip as much attention as possible. His gaze flickered up to watch San's head tilt back with pleasure. His bicep flexed as he pushed his dark hair from his face then settled it on the back of Seonghwa's head to guide his movements.

Once he took the tip between his lips, he relaxed his jaw and bobbed his head at an even pace. His eyes never drifted from San's, and his hand stroked steadily along with his movements. He enjoyed the saltiness from the cum, savoring the taste as it coated every corner of his mouth with every motion of his head bobbing.

"You're a fucking vision kneeling down there," San groaned out, his head tipping back once more.

The praise went straight to Seonghwa's cock. It jumped to life, sending a shockwave throughout his entire nerve system and forcing his legs to spread wider like he was tempted to hump the fucking floor.

"Get it nice and wet," San murmured, his fingers gently tucking several strands of hair behind Seonghwa's ear. "I want to be able to slip back into you, bunny. I want you to feel how wet it is."

He nodded as he sucked. His heart thumbed eagerly against his chest, and when he pulled back to catch his breath, San was hauling him back to his feet and pushing him face down into the mattress once again. His entire body relaxed instinctively and his ass perked upwards with a silent plead to be fucked.

"I can feel it leaking out of me," the model whispered.

The cum from San's previous release continued to dribble down his thighs—creating an even bigger mess from his own release. Laundry would have to be done, surely, but he quickly coaxed himself out of that impulsive thought and focused on the fact he was about to be stuffed full again. Breed me, I'm fucking begging you. He didn't have the strength to get the words out verbally—let alone the bravery to allow San into his inner thoughts. Maybe next time he'll bring it up—slowly ease his best friend into the idea of a breeding kink. Tonight they would focus solely on this, on San's win, and how he was going to provide him the pleasure as a reward.

"It looks heavenly," he responded, nudging his tip against Seonghwa's leaking hole with a soft moan. "The best thing I've ever seen." He pushed forward with ease and Seonghwa's eyes rolled towards the back of his head.

San grabbed onto Seonghwa's waist once more for the evening and drawled his hips backwards, only waiting a second for a chance to breathe, and thrusted forward with a deep-rooted groan rolling off his chest.

A gasp tore from Seonghwa's throat. He grabbed onto the sheets with both hands and dug his face into the mattress. San didn't give him a chance to adjust. And that singular breath he took? Gone. Every single thrust knocked the wind out of Seonghwa entirely. Drool fell past his lips and gathered on the sheets beneath him as he started singing out silent prayers.

He was chanting into the mattress—muffled one-syllable words coming out like a mantra as San fucked into him at a relentless pace. He was no longer sure where he started and where San ended.

"Did I lose you, bunny? Did I fuck you stupid tonight?"

There was one particular thrust that curved directly into his prostate and his fingers twitched against the sheets. He was far too sensitive than he thought to last longer than the other times. Something inside of him was brewing throughout the evening and was threatening to explode into something other than the massive amount of cum that begged to be released. His cock weighed heavily against the mattress and his moans were sporadic.

"M-More!" He managed to cry out, engulfing a breath of air immediately afterwards.

"More? God, baby. I might just break you."

He wanted that. Fuck he wanted it so badly. Every cell in his body was moving and every nerve in his system was sparking with need. Like he was having an out-of-body experience and watching San rail him into the next week.

Tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and even collected in his gaping mouth as it hung wide. "P-Please—! Please. Pl—" He choked on his words and they turned into straight babbles when San fucked directly into his prostate every single time. The ridges of his thick cock brushed along every sensitive part of his body—he could practically taste it on his tongue, causing more drool to spill out as he tried to muffle his moans in the bedding.

Flashes of multi-colors and stars were flickering beneath his eyelids. His heart was beating so fast that he could feel it in his cock. He knew he was close to passing out. His cock jumped once and he was suddenly spilling all over the sheets with his mind playing a montage of memories. Even with his eyes closed he could see San ramming into him from behind, but then his face morphed into someone entirely different. Someone that he didn't even know, but managed to consume him entirely by their first interaction.

He wasn't sure how possible it was to envision someone you just met during sex. But one moment it was San—then the next it was Hongjoong, looming over him and stuffing him full of his cock. He was wearing that same hardened glare that he wore at the race. Something that made Seonghwa feel small and surprisingly incredibly horny. Just from the briefest interest of wondering what the man was like in bed—now he's cumming at the mere thought of him splitting him open.

Seonghwa allowed a complete stranger to invade the darkest corners of his mind. And worse, he allowed his brain to visualize certain fantasies with that exact stranger…all because of pure curiosity.

Park Seonghwa was fucked.

And on the opposite side of the city, in a dimly lit room with cigarette smoke trailing out of the open window—a picture of Seonghwa illuminated Hongjoong's face from his computer. A model head-shot from a recent shoot with water lilies that went viral over the internet.

Which left Kim Hongjoong feeling far more ignited than yesterday and everyday prior.