It was already midnight, and the atmosphere in Seo-Jun's estate was thick with the scent of sweat and the sound of pleasure. The dim light of the room cast shadows across the floor, highlighting the sheen on their bare bodies as they were having sex.
Minho, once again, found himself struggling to keep up with Seo-Jun's relentless pace of moving. Every muscle in his body ached, and he felt the urge to slow down, to take a proper breath, but Seo-Jun was in the zone, his energy seemingly boundless as he powered through the intimate moments with an unwavering focus.
They were positioned in front of the large wardrobe mirror, the reflective surface capturing every moment of their intimacy - Minho's favourite position.
Minho couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and frustration as he watched Seo-Jun's face and body, perfectly poised and confident, while pulling his dick in and out of Minho's ass. With each pull, his breath grew heavier, his heart racing as he felt the burn in his back muscles. Finally, summoning all his strength, he gasped out, "Sir... I wanted to talk... to you about yesterday." The words tumbled out, strained and breathless, as he struggled to articulate his thoughts amidst the physical "torture".
Seo-Jun, on the other hand, seemed to thrive in this moment, a smirk playing on his lips as he noticed Minho's struggle. The contrast was stark- while Minho fought against his limits, Seo-Jun appeared invigorated, relishing the grind.
Seo-Jun then leaned in even closer, his breath mingling with the warm air between them as he continued pushing forward faster, muscles taut and glistening with effort. "I am not quite certain that you are able to talk properly right now, but... I am all ears." he said, his voice low and teasing. Each word was punctuated by heavy breaths that hinted at more than just a physical act, there was an undeniable thrill coursing through him as he maintained the intensity.
As Seo-Jun pushed himself to go even faster, Minho felt the mounting pressure. He couldn't help but scream slightly from the tension that wrapped around them like a tight coil. He knew he had to finish what he started, so he fought through the pressure, gasping, "You were very harsh on me, sir..." His heart raced as he tried to avoid the mirror's reflection, not wanting to meet Seo-Jun's eyes that sparkled with mischief and pleasure.
A playful smirk danced across Seo-Jun's lips as he absorbed Minho's words, clearly relishing the moment. With a teasing glint in his eyes, he leaned even closer, his mouth brushing against Minho's ear as he whispered, "Was I?" The whisper sent a jolt of electricity through Minho, heightening the tension between them, making it almost palpable. It was a moment suspended in time, where teasing banter and underlying desire intertwined, leaving both of them breathless in more ways than one.
Minho, trying desperately hard to fight with the pleasure caused by the simulation happening inside his lower body, muttered to himself, "Why is he talking to me like that?! It makes him so... attractive..."
The intensity of their movements grew by the second, each repetition pushing him closer to his limits. Minho gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, and finally blurted out, "I just... wanted to compete in a race... why did you chase me away?" With that, he closed his eyes, trying to block out the discomfort, and looked aside, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion.
Seo-Jun's playful smirk vanished, replaced by a slight annoyance at Minho's question. He turned Minho's body around to face him and pushed him on the bed, resulting in him being on top, his expression serious. "Oh, please. I did you a favour. You couldn't stay there for another minute. The folks on the track are not as kind as me..." With that, he resumed his body movements, pushing in his dick harder and faster, as if to emphasise his point and dominance. Minho, still grappling with the pain and the absurdity of the situation, thought to himself incredulously, "KIND?! YOU?!"
Seo-Jun continued his sentence with a teasing tone, "They won't hesitate to hurt this handsome face of yours." As he spoke, a smirk crept onto his lips, and his index finger traced a gentle line across Minho's face. The unexpected touch sent a rush of warmth to Minho's cheeks, causing him to blush deeply. For the first time since arriving, he found himself looking straight into Seo-Jun's eyes, caught off guard by the sudden moment.
Noticing the flush on Minho's face, Seo-Jun's smirk widened, and he decided to increase the intensity of their intimate movements. He picked up the pace, pushing his cock deeper into Minho's ass, hitting Minho's soft spot that made Minho let out a scream, as he said, "Your job is to protect this face for me as well as your body. But as I can see, you can't do this much. So I had to do it myself." His voice was laced with a mix of anger and annoyance. In a moment of mischief, he squeezed Minho's face. Minho felt a surge of anger mixed with embarrassment, pushing himself harder to keep up with Seo-Jun's relentless energy to keep going.
Minho loosened from Seo-Jun's hand, breathing heavily as he said, "But... I really wanted to compete—" Just before he could finish, Seo-Jun had clearly had enough. In a split second, he swiftly placed his hand over Minho's mouth, cutting him off with an annoyed look. "Enough talking about this…" he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. A smirk danced on his lips as he removed his hand, allowing Minho to take a much-needed breath, but at the same time, he increased the pace of his movements.
Minho was now really suffering, his heart racing and muscles burning, unsure of how to respond to Seo-Jun's relentless push. He heard Seo-Jun say, "Say it already, don't make me wait." his voice a mix of pleasure and anger.
After a few seconds of battling with himself, Minho finally decided to embrace the moment, letting go of his reservations and enjoying the remaining pleasure as he said, "Seo... Jun..." With a playful smirk, Seo-Jun turned Minho's head to face the mirror, intensifying their movements even further. Minho tried to avoid looking at Seo-Jun's reflection, but it was in vain; Seo-Jun's grip was too firm, forcing him to look down and see every pull in and out that Seo-Jun was doing while his face was reflecting his enjoyment.
After a few more minutes of nothing but pure suffering combined with pleasure on Minho's side, where his muscles felt like they were on fire and he fought the urge to scream, he finally reached his limit and came. Seo-Jun, sensing Minho's pleasure, flashed a triumphant grin and pushed himself even harder trying to finish as well. With heavy breaths and enjoyment in his eyes, he powered through the last few moments of their intimate act.
As Seo-Jun finished, he pulled himself off Minho and stood up, Minho collapsed back onto the bed, utterly exhausted. Every part of his body felt like it had been run over by a freight train, each muscle protesting against any movement. But even in his fatigue, his mind raced with thoughts that wouldn't let him rest. "I... have to convince him... to go with him to the track…" he thought, the idea igniting a flicker of energy within him. Gathering the last remnants of his strength, he propped himself up on his elbows, his heart pounding not just from the sex but from the urgency of his request. "Sir... can I please go with you the next time on the race track...?" he managed to say, his voice a mix of hope and despair, hoping that Seo-Jun would see the "sincerity" behind his words.
As Seo-Jun heard Minho's question, irritation coursed through him. In a heartbeat, he leaned over Minho, capturing his wrists with a firm grip, preventing any chance of escape. "You are so annoying." he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "What is it that you can't comprehend, actually?" Minho's eyes widened in confusion, his mind racing as he tried to wriggle free from Seo-Jun's hold, bewildered by the sudden intensity of the moment.
Seo-Jun leaned in closer, his breath brushing against Minho's face, and his grip tightened as he added, "Stop interfering in my life, Tiny Boy." The words hung heavily in the air, and Minho felt a mix of anger and disbelief rising within him. "All I want from you is your hole and voice, nothing more. So keep your thoughts and hands away from me." With that, Seo-Jun released Minho's arms, but the impact of his words lingered like a storm brewing inside Minho. "This punk!" he thought, his blood boiling as his expression shifted to one of barely contained rage.
Seo-Jun stood up, leaving Minho sitting on the bed, his fingers instinctively rubbing the spots where Seo-Jun had gripped him. The tension in the room was palpable, and just when Minho thought he could process the confrontation, Seo-Jun shot back, "Oh, keep that mafia gang of yours away from my team as well. It's started to get on my nerves." A smirk played on Seo-Jun's lips as he turned to walk away, leaving Minho in a state of shock, grappling with the meaning of Seo-Jun's words and the implications they carried.
Suddenly, the whole night's experiences fell behind as Minho was now completely focused on this conversation. He paused his body movement in shock, his eyes wide as he stammered, "W-What?!" The disbelief in his voice was palpable, and Seo-Jun couldn't help but turn around to face him, lifting an eyebrow with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Oh, why so shocked? Don't tell me you believed that I didn't know you were a spy from the Phoenix's gang." Seo-Jun said, his tone light but laced with an underlying seriousness. Minho's heart raced as he processed the words, his mind racing to connect the dots. He tried to get up from the bed, his body moving instinctively as if to escape the weight of the accusation.
Seo-Jun, however, found amusement in Minho's reaction. He chuckled softly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ha, one more..." he murmured, placing a hand on his head and shaking it gently.
Minho stood up in an instant, his heart pounding in his chest as he shouted, "That... that is not true!" His voice trembled, a mix of indignation and fear as he tried to mask the truth. Seo-Jun rolled his eyes, his expression a blend of annoyance and exasperation. "Please keep your mouth shut. I don't want to hear the whole 'please, it is not true' story." he snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive.
With a heavy sigh, Seo-Jun continued, "Sam was right... unfortunately, I can't get only sex from you. You will continue looking for something to use against me." As he spoke, he moved aside to pick up the bathrobe that had been draped over the hanger. The fabric rustled softly as he slipped it on, his movements deliberate while Minho remained frozen in shock, his eyes wide and unblinking.
"I am sorry, but our deal has to end here." Seo-Jun stated, his voice steady but laced with finality. The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and Minho felt the ground shift beneath him. "WHAT?!" he thought, a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion swirling in his mind. The abruptness of the statement left him reeling, grappling with the implications of Seo-Jun's decision.
Seo-Jun was not facing Minho while putting on his bathrobe, casually dismissing him with a calm yet authoritative tone. "Get your things and leave while I am still in a good mood." The words hung in the room, heavy with finality. Minho felt a knot tighten in his stomach, hesitating as he processed the ultimatum. He knew he couldn't return to his team empty-handed, the thought of explaining that he could no longer see Seo-Jun felt like a death sentence for both his mission and his reputation.
As he scanned the room, his mind raced for an excuse, anything to keep the deal alive. His eyes landed on his jacket tossed carelessly on a nearby chair. Memories of earlier flooded back, specifically the moment Jin had stopped him just before he left for Seo-Jun's place. Jin had handed him a gun, a precaution against the unpredictable nature of Seo-Jun. It was tucked away in the side pocket, a small but potent reminder of the stakes involved.
With a sudden surge of determination, Minho quickly slipped on his pants, the fabric feeling constricting as adrenaline coursed through him. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the gun, the cold metal feeling familiar and reassuring in his grip. He pointed it straight at Seo-Jun, who seemed unaware, still focused on adjusting his robe.
The tension crackled in the air, and Minho's heart raced as he grappled with the gravity of his decision. In that moment, he was caught between the instinct to protect himself and the desperate need to salvage whatever connection remained with Seo-Jun.