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The first thing you notice as the car stops is the bright lights of camera flashes, blinding even through the tinted window.
The second thing you notice, as you step out of the car, is the earthy smell that permeates the air when it rains after a long, dry spell.
The third thing was perhaps the most unmissable: reporters and photographers buzz and crowd around you, almost trampling you over if it wasn’t for the guards holding them back.
“Y/N!” a voice calls, one out of many, vying for your attention. “It’s been a year since you visited. Any special reason for coming now?”
“Is this gala important to you?”
“Y/N!”
“What made you come?”
“How are your pare-”
You turn your head towards the nearest camera, flashing a dazzling smile. One that you perfected over the years, a signature look that appealed to the public.
And then you left.
You ignored how the commotion got louder, keeping your head up high as you walked on the carpeted path the guards opened up for you.
You’re welcomed by the staff as soon as you step in through the grand entrance, bright eyes and eager hands helping you take off your outerwear. One of them offers to lead the way, but you decline with a shake of your head and a charming smile.
You know where to go.
You’re left with your clutch bag as you walk alone down a long hallway, the clacking of your heels against the marble floor loud with how deserted it was outside. You were aware the festivities had already started two hours ago, but you couldn’t seem to find it in you to care.
Umbra was a grand hotel, with never-ending hallways and numerous rooms fit for any and every occasion. Sleek with its midnight black futuristic design, it captures the attention of many with its location right at the heart of Seoul.
It was no secret that only the richest of the rich were allowed inside, those with a name or a reputation to uphold; children of presidents, next in line to the royal throne, celebrities, socialites. They would gather for parties in this very hotel every other night, masking their rotten, foul hearts and ill intentions under the guise of charities and fundraisers.
It all bored you to death.
“Just make an appearance,” your ‘guardian’ had said over the phone an hour earlier, just as your jet landed in Seoul. Sangmi was an old, uptight lady your parents paid weekly to keep a strict eye on you, as if you were a toddler let loose.
“There’s a gala tonight. One of many for this year. Buy a couple drinks. Meet your friends. Eat some good food. Let the public know you’re alive. ” You had scoffed at that, making sure it was heard from where the phone was placed on the table.
And like clockwork, Sangmi added, “Your parents would be happy.”
Without a word, you ended the call.
So now you find yourself stopping in front of a huge double door, eyes lazily trailing over its appearance. It was an all black metal door that was almost as tall as the ceiling, vines of ruby red accents swirling around and tangling together. The large head of a hissing black cobra with red eyes protruded in the middle.
To an outsider, it looked intimidating. Terrifying, even. To the members of Umbra, it was the gateway to heaven. A paradise lying beyond these very doors, the modern utopia.
To you, it was nothing more than but a stupid, ugly, over-the-top door.
You sigh, about to spin on your heel and leave, Sangmi be damned. You didn’t have the time to play pretend with people who were more interested in your name and parents than you. The 9 hour flight you just had from Moscow to Seoul only served to make you crankier as well, and the more muffled voices you could hear behind the door, the more your head ached.
It was nowhere near worth it.
But then you hear footsteps behind you, and you straighten up immediately. You prepare to turn around, fake smile plastered on your face and an even faker excuse on your tongue, but then a familiar voice speaks up.
“Now… would you look at what the cat dragged in.”
You bite your lip as the corners of your mouth twitched upward, unable to stop the giddy grin from forming even if you wanted to. You turn around slowly, facing the newcomer with an arched brow.
“How’d you know it was me?”
A scoff.
“I’d know you blind.”
With his hands in his pockets, Lee Minho was the definition of casual nonchalance. Considering the last time you had seen each other in person was three weeks ago, anyone would expect you’d have a more enthusiastic reunion. There was no squealing, no running into each other’s arms and spinning.
But despite your distance, you see the way Minho was biting back a smile too, eyes gleaming, and it made your heart jump all the same.
Eyes narrowing playfully, Minho’s head tilts. “Unless I’ve time-travelled, we were under the impression that you were coming home next month.”
We.
You huff out a shy laugh, neck hot. “Well, surprise.”
“He doesn’t know, does he?”
You glance at the clock on the wall. Almost an hour and a half since you landed.
You shrug, smiling. “He will soon.”
Minho assesses you for a moment. You let him, because you use the time to ogle too. The suit he was wearing fit his form well, leather pants outlining his legs sinfully. The v of his suit jacket was deeper than it appropriately should be, and the mesh undershirt he had on had the devil on your left shoulder acting up, begging to take a look without the outerwear on.
Minho’s lips, kissable as they were, tug into a smirk once your eyes meet his.
“You’re causing trouble. Why?”
Attentive as ever.
With a slow smile, you stalk forward. Minho’s eyes flicker down to your lips when you get close, your hands crawling up the wide expanse of his chest.
“Does it matter when you have me all to yourself right now?” You ask quietly, gaze flicking from his mouth to his eyes.
He hums. “I suppose not.”
Minho’s arms curl around you, and you gasp in surprise when he tugs you even closer, noses almost touching at your proximity.
You hold a stare down for a few moments, simply just taking each other in. Your fingers brush against the lapels of his jacket, and his hands tighten around your waist.
Then, Minho’s face breaks out into a wide grin, eyes crinkling. Your heart skips a beat.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Minho exhales, words barely out of his mouth before he’s leaning down to capture your lips in his.
It’s in the kiss that you feel in full force the three week absence of Minho’s presence, and so you greedily push in for more, lips parting and teeth nipping and taking whatever he gives you.
When you both pull away, you’re a little bit dazed, breathless and overwhelmed with his scent, but you manage to whisper back a, “Hi.”
You were a sight to behold like this, two of the most well known names making out in a deserted Umbra hallway. Like this, so close to Minho, you could pretend you were alone for a moment.
Like there wasn’t a camera blinking red in every nook and cranny. Like you couldn’t sense the presence of some eavesdroppers around the corner. Like you couldn’t hear the crazed bustle of the reporters outside, signaling another arrival. Like—
The double door opens.
You and Minho part automatically, but he keeps a hand around your hip as you turn to see who was stepping out the door. You resist the urge to roll your eyes when one of the hotel owners, Mr. Kang, comes strolling out, a look of fake surprise on his wrinkly face.
But, with a reputation to uphold, you plastered on the most polite smile you could muster, bowing.
“Mr. Kang. Good evening.”
“Y/N, Minho.” He greets happily at first, but then his brows furrow when he turns to you. “Y/N, I was informed that you were on your way here, and I was worried you had gotten lost because it’s been a few minutes since then. But, I see you’re…” the old man interrupts himself with a knowing laugh, eyebrows wiggling. “It’s a shame I didn’t get here earlier.”
You laugh with him, but a disgusted gag tickles the back of your throat.
Minho smiles, fingers twitching against your hip. “It’s all good, sir. We were just discussing if there were still any available tables inside? I heard it’s packed tonight.”
Mr. Kang’s eyes sparkle at that, and he immediately barks at some bellboys to push the door open further. He steps to the side so you both have a clear way to the entrance, showcasing what was inside in the process.
The ballroom was bathed in a dark blue glow, black walls making it seem like the room was never-ending. You were guessing the theme for this gala was something akin to a starry night, but the tacky lights made it seem like an LSD trip more than anything.
And if your headache was bad before, the overlapping chatter mixed in with classical music and the clinking of utensils just made it worse now. If you listened close enough, you could already hear the gasps.
Mr. Kang smiles, sickly sweet.
“There’s always a table for you two."
Half a bottle of red wine and a five course meal later, you and Minho sat in one of the round tables smack dab in the center, sitting with some neighboring country’s princess and an A-list celebrity.
There’s someone prattling on stage, but you couldn’t focus on what they were saying no matter how hard you tried. The only thing grounding you at that moment was Minho’s hand on your thigh, his chair closer to you than what was indicated in the seating arrangement.
You glance at the gold watch sitting on Minho’s wrist and wonder how much longer you’d have to be here to pass Sangmi’s standards.
Noticing your restlessness, Minho takes his hand off your thigh and brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, worried eyes scanning your face.
“You’re tense.”
You exhale, leaning into the touch. “You know I don’t want to be here. If you hadn’t appeared, I’d be on my fourth Pétrus at home right now.”
“Let’s leave, then.” Minho says, like it was that simple. He moves to get up, grasping your wrist this time, but you stop him with a tug to his suit jacket. He raises a sharp eyebrow in question, making you sigh.
“Sangmi.”
Minho’s lips part at that, understanding, but before he can reply, something started to dawn on you.
“Did she call you?” The words come out before you can stop them, your voice tight. “To keep me here?”
It wasn’t like your relationship with Minho was a secret. In fact, you met in this very hotel. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’ve stayed in this hotel for longer than an hour, and Minho was responsible for two out of five. Everyone knew this. Sangmi knew this.
It’s silent for a moment, and you fear you’ve offended Minho at the question. You open your mouth, about to apologize, but then Minho gently but firmly grasps your chin between his fingers and makes you keep your gaze on him.
“I don’t answer to anyone.” Minho utters, tone serious and quiet but still penetrating amidst the chatter in the room. “Certainly not to the dog your parents keep around you. You know this, Y/N.”
You deflate at his answer, guilty.
He was right. You knew Minho wouldn’t keep you here if you didn’t want to, especially with how he was ready to leave just a second ago. But the thought of Sangmi calling Minho just to keep an eye on you…
It made you feel like the child they think you are.
A sudden scoff from Minho has you snapping out of your thoughts. You yelp when he pinches your cheek, frown set on his face.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. What, did you think I wasn’t going crazy with missing you, too? Three weeks, Y/N.” He huffs. “Three weeks, and I couldn’t even go see you.”
You snort at that, the tension leaving your body quickly as you cup Minho’s cheeks between your palms, placating him with a sweet kiss.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize once you part, guilty for another reason now. “I had work. And I needed to get away.”
And flying to a country on the other side of the world was the way to do it. You had business to do in Moscow anyway— business you could have done at home, sure— but you went in person, wanting some hands on experience.
At least, that’s what the public knows.
“And I know that.” Minho reassures, brushing his knuckles against your cheekbones. “But don’t think I didn’t spend every second missing you. Even if I got the news of your arrival the moment you landed or if I got it tomorrow, next week, next month— it doesn’t matter. I’d still come rushing over.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, the whole party now drowned out by Minho’s heart clenching words and soft gaze. It was as if he had draped a safety blanket over you, shielding you away from prying eyes and ears, no matter how good that was to be true.
You smile softly, leaning in close, intending to capture Minho’s lips in a deep kiss. But then your phone pings in your clutch, and both you and Minho blink in surprise.
You only had notifications set for specific people, a fact that Minho knew very well, considering he was one of them. So you settle with a quick peck to Minho’s lips instead, and Minho gives you your privacy as you take your phone out.
One new message pops up.
You’re back?
Chan. You snort softly. That was fast. A new record, even.
I landed two hours ago.
The reply was faster. Message after message pops up in quick succession. Why are you back early? Did something happen? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? I’m in New York, I just got here yesterday. I could have postponed my flight to come pick you up.
You check the time. It was early there, so you know he had just woken up. But for someone who wasn’t a morning person, Chan sure was asking a lot of questions.
Ignoring the questions, you reply; I know, Chan. I’ll see you next week.
:( is what he replies with, followed by, You’re at Umbra?
I am, you confirm. And as an evil afterthought, you add: With Minho.
Chan predictably doesn’t reply after that, so you lock your phone and slip it back in your clutch, going back to pretending you were focused on the person on stage. A few minutes later, however, Minho makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat that catches your attention.
He turns to you with an unreadable look on his face. “You told Chan you were with me?”
“Yeah,” your head tilts. “How’d you know?”
Minho snorts, hand coming up from under the table to flash his phone to you. It was opened to the messaging app, devoid of any other messages except for one.
Touch her and I’ll kill you.
To anyone else, the sender seemed to be from an unknown number. But you know where it came from, because you’ve dialed those same set of numbers more times than you can count. And with the way Minho reacted, he did too.
So with a smirk, you leant back in your chair, not dignifying Minho with a response. Raising an eyebrow at your reaction, Minho chuckles.
“God, you just love to rile him up, don’t you?”
Your shrug, nails clicking against the table. “Keeps him on his toes.”
“And I love to piss him off, so.” Minho grins, blocking Chan’s number before he slides a hand high up between your thighs, making your breath hitch.
“How about this,” Minho starts, and you shift in your seat, facing him so he has your full attention. Minho’s arm comes up to wrap around the back of your chair, leaning in close when he says, “stay with me tonight. Here, at Umbra.”
At your scrunched expression, Minho laughs, cooing. “I know, I know. But if you spend the night here, won’t Sangmi leave you alone for the next few weeks, then? What did she negotiate with you?”
You sigh. “To make an appearance. She didn’t specify a time.”
“Then we’ll do her one better. We’ll make an appearance, alright.” You raise an eyebrow, not quite getting what Minho was getting at, but then he adds, “we invade as many rooms as we can before the night ends.”
You stare at him incredulously, “You’re bringing me along to your inspection duties?”
“Sounds boring when you say it like that.” Minho chuckles. “We won’t be staying long in any of the rooms, unless something grabs your attention.” You snort, doubting that. Minho continues. “You passing by already has people talking, either way. Like this, Sangmi won’t get a chance to say that you didn’t do anything.”
You think it over, but deep down you already knew Minho was right. The prospect of moving around with Minho seemed a million times better than just sitting here in this stuffy, dark ballroom.
“The whole night?” You ask again to make sure, and Minho nods. You purse your lips at that. “Hm. I’ll think about it.”
“You can make your decision after we visit the first few rooms.” Minho assures, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek and sweetening the deal. “So don’t worry about anything else tonight, okay?”
He looked like he was waiting for an answer, so you nod obediently, dazed at how close he was. Minho’s lips quirk.
“Tonight, just focus on me.”
You’ve lost count of how many rooms you’ve barged into with Minho.
You both don’t bother mingling with other people, already knowing what their slimy gazes and fake smiles wanted. Minho does wander off sometimes, but he always circles back to you. You both kept out of their reaches, and simply stayed in each other’s orbits.
You had fun by yourselves through invading dance floors, winning games, and making conversation with the ones who looked half-interesting enough; saving numbers that you were never going to text or call back. Half the time in a room was spent making out against a wall or an open couch anyway, so you were entertained enough.
But all the rooms you’ve been into were starting to blur into one boring mess, just people in clusters sucking up to each other. Even the alcohol hadn’t made it better, but that was probably because you were only on the verge of tipsy. You and Minho had paced yourselves, not too keen on letting the night end by alcohol poisoning..
This proves to be the right choice, however, because when you enter the next room, the first thing that greets you are casino gaming tables.
So your eyes immediately lock on to the table with the biggest crowd, frantically searching, and you can’t stop the delighted gasp that slips out your mouth when you see who was right in the middle.
Seo Changbin.
He’s a sight with blonde hair slicked back, black leather button up stretching just right across his broad chest. His face was impassive— almost bored as he twirled a casino chip between his fingers. The crowd and players watched him intently, as if every move he made was something to be taken note of, but Changbin barely paid them any attention.
After a few more seconds, Changbin places the chip back on the table. He leans back on his seat, eyes shutting as he stretches. The player next to him fidgets nervously.
You slip out of Minho’s arms then, not bothering to tell him where you were off to. He could figure it out himself.
You could say you tried to be stealthy, but with how the crowd around Changbin started bustling when they saw your approaching form, you knew that was an immediate lost cause. So you let your heels clack loudly instead, alerting everybody of your presence.
But despite your bold entrance, you can’t help the skip in your heartbeat when Changbin’s eyes flutter open, gaze immediately locking on you.
The crowd naturally parts on your way to Changbin. You smile when his arms open to welcome you, keeping a hand on your hip as you perch yourself on the arm of his chair.
You don’t speak, because it was his turn now, and just watch him play quietly. When he’s done, there’s a smug expression on his face, and you can’t resist the kiss you press to his lips at the look.
“I missed you.” You admit against his lips unashamedly, delighting at the way Changbin grins.
“Missed you too, doll. The next time you leave for three weeks without warning, you’re taking me with you.” You laugh, letting yourself be pulled down and manhandled into his lap. You swing your legs over to the other side, crossing them once you’ve sat more comfortably.
Changbin tsks playfully. “Why didn’t you call me, hm? I would have come to pick you up.”
The corners of your lips twitch. Exactly like Chan.
“I didn’t call anyone. Came here as soon as I landed. It completely slipped my mind that you could be here. Ah... I almost left.”
You frown, upset at the thought of missing the chance to see Changbin, but then you’re distracted by a thumb brushing against your lips.
Smirking, Changbin admits, “I knew as soon as you were in the lobby. I was on my way down, but I got word that Minho was already there. I knew you’d end up here one way or another.”
You arch an eyebrow in fake shock at that, eyes rolling. “Gee. Did someone announce my arrival?”
Changbin chuckles distractedly, hand sliding down your hip as his eyes drink your form in hungrily. Three weeks could change a man, and you shudder when your own hands slide down to the hard muscles of his biceps.
Three weeks could change you, too.
“You know you rarely come to this hellhole. Everybody here knows your name. Everybody wants to see you, to touch you—” he leans in close, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “—to taste you.”
True to Changbin’s words, you could feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. Though you were sure half of those eyes weren’t for you alone, it still felt exhilarating to have so many people vying for your attention, and yet you only grace it to a handful.
And judging from the hard on Changbin was pressing against your ass, you knew he loved the fact that your eyes were only on him too.
“Joining us, Bin?”
Well, him, and Minho.
Minho’s hands slide down your shoulders, his body coming up to stand behind you. He gathers your hair off to one side, leaving a shoulder— the one closest to Changbin— exposed. You suck in a breath when Minho leans down and leaves an open mouthed kiss there.
Changbin’s eyes follow every movement, and he visibly swallows.
“Booking a room for a few hours?”
Minho smirks. “The whole night.”
Changbin looks to you for confirmation, but you just shrug, neither denying or accepting. Wherever the night took you now, it didn’t matter. As long as you were with them.
But the thought of it was exciting nonetheless, making you shift on Changbin’s lap. He grunts at that, stopping your movements with a sharp look. It was embarrassing to obey almost immediately, but the warning squeeze to your waist made you throb.
Changbin liked you obedient, solely because he was the type who didn’t like punishing you and would rather spend his time pleasuring you instead.
However, it has been awhile since you’ve been with him, and boy, were you ready to press some buttons.
But just as Changbin was about to speak again, he’s interrupted by a call of his name.
Both you and Minho hold your breaths. Changbin hates being interrupted.
And it seems like whoever interrupted wasn’t a bearer of good news either, because you watch as Changbin barks at whoever called him, the fingers around your waist tightening involuntarily at the outburst.
It takes every bit of your strength to stop yourself from squirming once more, especially when you start to see the telltale signs of annoyance appear on his face.
Changbin was hot when he was angry, and you would have enjoyed simply just sitting there and letting him chew out a nobody, when suddenly Minho taps your shoulder. You blink up at him, confused, but he just diverts your attention to the table.
Your eyebrows raise as understanding dawns on you.
Changbin was winning.
Or, well, about to win. Though you didn’t know anything about gambling— refusing to ever let your life be consumed by it— you knew enough that you could put two and two together, and you could see that Changbin was going home with a hefty sum if he kept on playing.
It didn’t hurt either that Changbin was one of the best gamblers you know, one of the very reasons why you were so attracted to him despite hating the act of gambling itself. His confidence, his arrogance, his ability to make everyone participating in the game his bitch— it was all so attractive. There was nobody in the field like him.
You share a discreet look with Minho, and he squeezes your shoulders before stepping back, leaving the scene entirely.
You wait until Changbin stops talking. You weren’t about to piss him off even more, especially at such a crucial time like this. But you didn’t have to wait for long, because he takes a breather soon enough, licking his lips as he mutters curses under his breath.
You slide a hand up his chest then, catching his attention. His eyebrows are still furrowed in annoyance when he turns to look at you, but it’s gone as soon as you smile and press a sweet kiss to his lips.
You slowly slid one button of his leather top open, slipping your hand inside the gap and scratching your nails against the bare skin of his muscled chest. Changbin tenses, full attention was on you now.
“Y/N,” he starts, reprimanding you with another squeeze to your waist. “What are you doing?”
You lean in close, sighing sadly, “Binnie.”
Changbin’s frowning now, more worried than anything else. He lifts a hand to nudge your chin up gently, making your lips twitch. “What is it, doll? Tell me.”
“You need to calm down.” You shuffle even closer, making sure nobody else heard you but him. “They’re purposely riling you up so you lose focus and leave the game. Take a look.”
You see Changbin’s eyes flicker towards the table, and the hand on your waist tightens again.
“Empty their banks, baby. Not just their pockets.” You snicker, patting his chest twice as you pull away. “Focus.”
It takes a few more seconds of tense silence, but you know you’re in the clear when Changbin’s grip on you loosens. His hand loosens its grip, moving to lazily trail up and down your back instead.
What you don’t expect, however, is him gently tugging your hand out his button up. He then grasps your fingers gently, pulling them up to his mouth to press a kiss to each of your knuckles. Caught off guard, your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening just the slightest bit.
“But for the record…” Changbin grins, “I already lost my focus the moment I saw you.”
You knew he was kidding. Not even an earthquake could completely shatter Changbin’s focus when he was in-game, and you both knew that. Everybody here knew that. And that was disgustingly cheesy, even for Changbin.
That didn’t stop you from blushing red up to the tips of your ears though, making Changbin laugh in delight.
“Liar,” you hiss half-heartedly, face an obvious shade of tomato red. Changbin coos at that, still laughing as he presses kisses onto your heated cheeks.
A glass appearing out of nowhere on Changbin’s other side startles the both of you, but then Minho’s head pops up in your line of vision.
“Crisis averted?” Minho asks you cheekily despite Changbin literally being between you, and Changbin rolls his eyes.
“There wasn’t any crisis in the first place.”
Minho clearly doesn't believe so, but he lets it slide, busy nudging the glass to Changbin instead. “Your favorite.”
Changbin accepts the glass gratefully, and your eyes follow the liquid that makes its way inside his mouth, unashamedly taking in the way he licks his lips right after. He pretends to be busy, hissing at the burn of the alcohol, but you know he’s noticed your stares.
The hand sliding between your thighs proved so.
You squirm in anticipation, but then Minho coughs, catching your attention again. You huff, looking up, but Minho’s dark eyes were proof that he was enjoying the show. So why the hell was he stopping you from—
Ah.
You spare a glance behind your shoulder, eyeing the way the other players around the table were getting antsy. Some were glaring at you, while some were about five seconds away from risking getting socked in the face by Minho and Changbin if it meant they could hold your hand.
Right. The game.
You roll your eyes, deflating and turning back to Changbin. You wrap your arms around his neck in a petty hug, prolonging your stay for a few more seconds.
You truthfully wanted him to join you and Minho, since it has been too long, and Changbin had a cock that was thick and curved in a way that made you see stars if you sat on it just right, but you also weren't about to let Changbin leave this table without ruining some lives.
So you press a long, open mouthed kiss to his cheek, making sure your lipstick left a mark.
Changbin inhales deeply, distracted as he leans down to kiss your neck— right where your pulse was— nibbling on the skin just to hear you sigh with content.
You exhale in his ear, relishing in the way he shudders. “Win this, and you can come to Bali with me this weekend.”
He pulls back then, eyes trained on your lips.
“And if I lose?”
You burst out laughing. Everybody in the vicinity hears it, curious heads turning to look at your doubled over form.
Bullshit. You’ve never seen Changbin lose a single game once in his entire gambling career, and you knew he was just saying things to get a reaction out of you. The two boys share a look behind your back, lips tugging up into amused smiles.
Once your giggles down, you lean back in close, lips brushing against Changbin’s as you say— loud and clear for everyone to hear—
“I know you won’t lose.”
And just like that, Changbin is placated. He grins, manic, looking a little bit crazy and a lot more in love.
For a goodbye, you drag Changbin into a final filthy kiss. He moans into your mouth, and you allow a single swipe of his tongue before pulling away.
He grunts in clear protest, hands tightening around your waist again to keep you in his lap, but you tut and gently pry his arms off. Clearing your throat, you do your best to ignore the way he follows your movements with heated eyes.
Minho says his goodbyes as you swing your legs off Changbin’s lap, whispering in Changbin’s ear about some gambling strategies you couldn’t care less about.
You stand behind them, waiting patiently. The position allowed you to see Minho’s hand settled on Changbin’s nape, squeezing ever so slightly. A smirk tugs on your lips.
Minho finally pulls away after a couple of seconds, and you slip an arm around his waist as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Changbin watches you both as you turn to leave, and you blow him one last flying kiss goodbye, winking.
Changbin pretends to catch the blown kiss with a smirk, pressing two fingers to his lips in return. Your heart warms.
But, since Changbin is also a piece of shit, he makes a show of kitten-licking the tips of his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you.
You flush a bright red again, half mortified and half turned on at something so stupid. Minho laughs at your side, having witnessed— along with everybody else in the room— the whole exchange.
With matching satisfied smiles and Changbin’s laugh echoing behind you, you close the door to this room, and move on to another.
An hour and two pairs of aching feet later, you were sure this was the last room.
You’re absolutely 100% sure, because if the next room Minho took you to wasn’t the room he was fucking you in, there was going to be some problems.
Minho looked good enough to eat as he leant back on the couch, one arm around you and the other holding a shot glass. His legs were spread, and you would have kneeled between them if it wasn’t for the other occupants in the room surrounding you.
Though you dreaded the majority of the people in Umbra, there are a select few that you’ve become acquainted or even friends with. These people you were comfortable to be around with, hence your lying position on the couch, back leant against Minho. You even let your legs stretch, crossing at the ankles, considering nobody else was on the couch with you two.
You’re only jolted out of your Minho-induced daze when Minghao, one of your friends, starts sniffling when asked about how he and his recent girlfriend broke up.
“This morning. Just texted me and left.”
“Shit. That’s harsh.” Minho grimaces, leaning over and hurriedly pushing the shot glass to Minghao’s lips. “Just drink the pain away, man.”
“You’re just making him drink your shot.” You croon in his ear, chuckling. The vibrations make Minho shiver. “That’s cheating.”
“Shhh,” Minho laughs, tickling his fingers under your chin. “Don’t be so noisy.”
“Oh? That’s hard to do.”
“Want me to shut you up, then?”
Minho’s eyes flash in challenge, thumb coming up to brush against your lips.
“Okay,” you agree without any fuss, gazing up at Minho through your eyelashes. “Let’s leave?”
Minho just nods, not daring himself to speak. But it’s when you guys part from each other and prepare to leave that a sharp whistle catches your attention, making you halt..
“Oh, oh, oh, nobody leaves just yet!”
You groan. “What do you want, Mingyu?”
“Our Hao just got his heart broken,” Mingyu tsks, holding a drunk Minghao’s face between his hands and cooing, “about to retell his painful story, and you’re just going to leave? He’s just about to tell us some juicy secrets too!”
Baited with Mingyu’s words, Minho sends you an apologetic smile. You obediently flop back down on the couch at that, resisting the urge to pout. You knew not to bother Minho when he seemed to be invested in a story, so you don’t attempt to protest.
Instead, you busy yourself with looking around the large room you all evacuated to.
It wasn’t as packed as the other rooms and definitely much darker and quieter, the only sound being quiet chatter and the sound of pool balls clacking as a group played in the corner of the room.
There was also a noticeable group giggling at the back, and your eyes followed the source of their giddiness to find a mop of blue hair surrounded by girls and guys alike, all looking very interested in what he had to say.
He had an air of both timidness and arrogance around him, which confused the hell out of you. He was handsy, hands cupping blushing cheeks or slinging an arm around a waist to pull closer, and yet he never let anyone be intimate with him for more than a minute.
You wanted to know more.
“Minnie,” you call, distracting Minho from where he was listening to Minghao, hand idly sliding up and down the inside of your thigh. He hums, indicating he was listening, but doesn’t stop the movement of his hand. “Who’s that?”
Minho looks up then, following your gaze to the back of the room. You watch the way his face changes, and your interest fully piques at the way his eyes darken.
“Han Jisung.” Minho exhales, sounding tired. “Shit.”
“You’ve met, then.”
He hums in confirmation. “Eye-catcher, isn’t he? Got here last month. He’s got that air of mystery around him, much like you. The people here, predictably, ate that up. The only public information available is that he’s the son of some industry tycoon.”
You nod slowly, eyes watching Han Jisung make another girl flush bright red. But then Han Jisung pulls away just as the girl leans in, and your head tilts.
“And the private?”
Minho laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. “How are you so sure I already have that info, hm?”
You turn to face Minho at that, meeting his amused gaze. You let the tip of your nail nudge his chin up, confidently smug when you say:
“You’re Lee Minho. You know anything there is to know about anyone here. You’d have barely cast a second glance at him if he wasn’t worth our time.”
With a snort, Minho finally admits, “He’s a journalist,” and oh— that was new.
“When did you find out?”
“Took me two weeks since his arrival.” Minho notices your astonished expression, looking just as dazed as you are when he sighs, “I know. The bastard’s good.”
Of course, there’s been multiple journalists who had thought they could infiltrate Umbra from the inside. With the country’s most powerful people in one place, you were bound to get a scoop. Some have been successful, breaking some of the biggest stories that shocked the world, some now buried six feet under.
But to last a whole month here undercover?
And for Minho to take two weeks to find out the truth?
Minho was the one person who knew Umbra inside out; from the people behind it, to the people who occupy it every night. The ones to watch out for, the ones who fade into the background. It’s why he wanders away from you sometimes, listening in on conversations about people he couldn’t care less about, but could be important information in the future. It’s what his “inspection duties” are for.
When there’s a new member, it barely takes him a day to find out all there is to know about them. So for Han Jisung to…
Well. Minho wasn’t exaggerating. Jisung was good.
You chuckle under your breath, impressed. “For a journalist, you’re a wet dream. I assume he latched his claws on you first.”
“And latch he did.” Minho agrees, gaze looking distant as he reminisced. “But, even if he was hard to dig up, he’s still a rookie, Y/N. An obvious one at that. Full of mistakes. If he had latched on to anyone else, sloppy as he was, he’d be as good as dead. I don’t understand how his true identity was so protected.”
You frown. “But you let him live. Why?”
“I knew he was a journalist, but I didn’t know what for. That was proving harder to find out. I traced him back to a fake news company, so he’s working alone, but that doesn’t explain why it was so hard to find out who he really is. I wasn’t about to let him walk here knowing he was looking for something, but I wasn’t about to let him go without knowing what it is he wanted either. So just like him, I had to work from the inside. His first mistake was thinking he was the predator and I was a prey.”
You laugh as you connect the dots, half in disbelief and half in amusement. “You infiltrated the infiltrator.”
“And what a damn good infiltration it was.” Minho whistles, making you slap his chest playfully.
You giggle. “Did you get what you wanted, then?”
At the question, Minho’s entire demeanor changes. You’re immediately on alert when his eyes harden and his jaw clenches, stomach churning at the thought of what could have made him so angry so suddenly.
“Minho?” You call softly, worried, but the next words that come out of his mouth had your heart dropping.
“His second mistake was asking about Chan.”
You bristle immediately, going to sit up, but Minho snaps out of his anger at the movement. He gently pushes you back down on his chest, hushing you.
“Easy, gorgeous.” Minho whispers, gentle hands turning your gaze away from where you were now glaring daggers at Jisung. “Easy. He didn’t get a single thing. I made sure of that. Don’t you trust me?”
You settle at the words, but not completely. Of course you trusted Minho. If he says he had everything under control, then he had everything under control. But it was the fact that someone was asking about Chan, a journalist at that… it left a bad taste in your mouth.
You silence the alarm bells going off in your head, meeting Minho’s gaze with a frown. “What does he want with him? Tell me you know.”
Minho sighs regretfully. “I don’t. Working on that now. We don’t know if it’s bad or good.”
“Good?” Your eyes narrow. “Good? You’re giving a journalist the benefit of the doubt?”
“Not my choice.” Minho frowns right back, and you groan. Fucking Chan and his stupid fucking trusting self. “I told Chan as soon as I found out. Ordered me to lay low. Says Jisung looks familiar, but he doesn’t know where from yet.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “He’s too trusting.”
“I wouldn’t be here with you if he wasn’t.”
You freeze, looking back up to see Minho’s tight smile. Shit. There were some things that were sensitive to talk about with Minho, and his past was one of them.
You open your mouth, about to explain, but Minho shuts you up with a sweet kiss.
“I know, I know it’s different. We’re both sponges for information, but he’s a journalist. I’m not. It’s much more dangerous waters.” Minho takes the words out of your mouth easily, making you pout. “Chan did tell me to lay low, but I’m on guard, I swear to you. I wouldn’t compromise our safety just from a good fuck.”
He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, eyes darkening. “I am giving him the benefit of the doubt, but if he so much as ruffles a strand of hair on Chan’s head— yours, Changbin’s— it’s game over. Chan’s orders be damned. I don’t give second chances.”
Fuck.
You blink away the stinging in your eyes, pulling Minho into a deep kiss. You poured as much love as you could into it, hoping he could feel how grateful you were from how you gripped at him desperately.
Though Minho wasn’t one for declarations of love, it was in acts like these that you remember how much he cherished you three. It was him staying at Umbra day and night to always be on guard of everything and anything that could be a threat to you, Chan and Changbin; always two steps ahead of everybody for your protection.
You both pull away, dazed from the kiss, but there’s a moment of clarity when you snarl, “Han Jisung tries anything funny on you and I gut him alive.”
Minho giggles at that, lifting your sour mood and making your lips twitch in the process. He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, grinning.
“God, you’re sexy.”
You rolled your eyes in response, but there wasn’t any heat to it.
Minho’s gaze flickers somewhere for a second, and when he turns back to you, there’s a devilish smirk on his face.
“And it looks like a certain someone thinks so, too.”
You raise an eyebrow, curiosity getting the best of you and making you sit up. You turn, fully expecting some nobody, but your heart stutters to a stop when Han Jisung pins you down with a heated look.
As you consider your options, you hold Jisung’s gaze. A question pops into your head. “Does Binnie know about him?”
Minho snorts. “Changbin is the last person that should know about this. Changbin’s analytical— he wouldn’t be so good at his craft if he wasn’t— but emotions are emotions. You know what happened the last time someone tried to have a go at Chan.”
You shudder at the memory, because Changbin angry at being interrupted may be one thing, but Changbin angry at any of your safety being compromised is another thing entirely.
Minho snickers, knowing he got his point across from your expression.
You put your focus back on Jisung. There was a chance he wanted you simply because you were close to Chan and Minho, but the eyes don’t lie. And if there was anything his eyes were showing you, the lust in it was unmistakable.
Han Jisung’s third mistake was foolishly thinking you couldn’t stand your ground, because a few seconds later he breaks your intense eye contact, his nervous fidgeting clear even in the dim lighting of the room.
One of your eyebrows arches in surprise, hawk-like eyes watching Jisung lose himself in the hands of some stranger instead. Jisung pushes hard but pulls back just as fast, and he seemed to tease like it was second nature to him.
“He’s a bit of a brat, isn’t he?”
Minho doesn’t reply, but his hand tightens around your thigh. It’s the only answer you need.
You snort, turning back to Minho with a knowing look. “You always did like taming brats.”
“Explain to me why I’m stuck here with you, then? You’re nowhere near tamed.” Minho shoots back, playful.
“Cause Chan got to me first, and he likes me being a brat sometimes. You, however,” you purr, scratching a nail down his jaw, “you keep me around because I suck your cock better than anyone else ever could.”
Minho’s dick wasn’t the thickest, but it certainly was the longest. Deep throating him was a challenge in and of itself, but for you to enjoy having his cock down your throat and letting him go at his own pace, Minho could have sworn he had died and went to heaven. The first time you blew him was testament to that.
He fidgets at the memory, and judging by the teasing look in your eyes, you had remembered as well.
Minho swallows, changing the subject quickly with a quick cough. “Besides Changbin, you’re the last person I want to get involved with this too. In fact, Chan told me not to mention anything to you. We don’t know how dangerous Jisung is. But,” he sighs, resigned, “you always did have an eye for pretty things. And if there’s anyone who could break a pretty brat like Han Jisung…”
Minho licks his lips at the thought, eyes flashing with want. “It was you.”
You smirk at that, eyes fluttering back to Jisung. He was stealing discreet glances at you, even over the crowd gathered around him. But the moment you meet eyes, Jisung turns away again, refusing to make eye contact once more.
Minho makes a noise when you suddenly change positions, swinging both of your legs on his lap. His hands automatically come up to slide around your waist, supporting you. Someone in your group whistles. But before Minho could ask what you were doing, you pulled him down into a deep kiss, arms locking around his neck.
You suck on Minho’s bottom lip, licking at the seam of his mouth. He groans when you tug on his hair, forcing him to lean his head back so you could slide your tongue against Minho’s own.
Minho lets you have your control, but the for now was evident on the tight grip he had on your hips.
A hot flash rushes through you as the kiss gets hungrier, messier, tongues licking into each other’s mouth desperately now that hours— weeks of pent up frustration is finally coming to light. You were getting dizzy from the lack of air, but the last thing you wanted to do was break the kiss.
Your body pulses with want even when Minho pulls away, sucking and nibbling on your bottom lip before immediately moving to press wet open mouthed kisses down your jaw.
Your eyes flutter open as Minho goes down, and as predicted, you lock gazes with Han Jisung.
This time, however, he doesn’t look away. With how hard he was digging his nails into his own thigh, it looked as if he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
“Min,” you whisper, “he’s looking.”
Minho exhales against your neck, breath hot. “At you?”
You smirk. “At us.”
Han Jisung’s eyes were something else, you think. You weren’t sure if it was because of his makeup, the ambience in the room, or the obvious tension between you and Minho, but Jisung looks with heavy eyes and drinks you two in like there was nothing else in the world he’d rather do.
He seems to have caught on to the little game you were playing with him, if the furrow in his brows were anything to go by. He looked torn, the little group surrounding him calling for his attention, but his eyes kept straying back to you and Minho.
You don’t know the full story between him and Minho yet, but Jisung’s hesitation was enough of a clue. Minho refused to raise his head either, so you saved both of them the trouble by dragging Minho into another kiss.
“Let’s leave.” You whisper amidst kisses, leaving no room for discussion this time as you plant your feet on the ground. “Minho, if you don’t fuck me right now—“
“So impatient.” Minho chuckles against your lips, sounding amused as if he wasn’t the one with a semi hard-on, and you tug him off the couch.
He completely pulls away after one final kiss, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the exit. You blow your friends a kiss goodbye, ignoring their catcalls and protests.
What you don’t ignore, however, is Jisung, whose eyes follow you and Minho all the way to the door. He was fidgeting, looking like he was one push away from walking up to you. So you slow your steps, giving him a clear chance to.
Jisung, unfortunately, doesn’t take it.
You sigh, disappointed. Minho huffs out a laugh beside you. Breaking Han Jisung was for another time, then. But still, when you step out of the room, you can’t resist looking back. You catch Jisung’s torn, lust-filled gaze one last time, just before the door closes.
That, you think faintly, was Han Jisung’s fourth mistake.
It’s no surprise that Minho already has a keycard that he pulls out of his wallet once you’re both on the floor for the suites, but it is a surprise when the door he presses the keycard to opens, and there’s already someone in the room.
You stiffen when you walk in, now able to see the familiar color of the Umbra staff’s clothes, but Minho seemed to be unconcerned. The person doesn’t stay long, saluting at Minho and giving you a sweet smile as he weaves past you two.
He was pretty, shoulder length blonde hair tucked behind his ears. He was tall too, taller than both you and Minho, and if he wasn’t wearing the staff’s clothes, you would have assumed he was one of Minho’s rich model friends.
Your eyes follow the boy on his way out, still looking even when the door locks securely behind him. You turn back to Minho after that, seeing him place his belongings on the nightstand. Noticing your arched brow, he chuckles. Minho grabs your attention back to him by sliding his arms around your waist from behind, and the kiss he presses to your bare shoulder makes you shudder.
“Don’t worry. He works for me. I had him guard the room and check for bugs or cameras.”
You stare, bemused. “I can never differentiate your insiders.”
“Good. I would never keep them if anyone could. Now,” he sighs, “enough of other people, hm?”
Minho slides his suit jacket off, and you bite your lip when you finally see his upper body with nothing but the mesh top on. The sheer black somehow made his skin look much more tantalizing, almost like it was a gift to unwrap.
Minho tears your gaze away from his body by stalking forward, and you back up out of reflex. You make a noise when your back hits the wall, Minho stopping just inches away from you. He leans down, nosing up your neck with a contented sigh.
Then, with a nip to your jaw, he whispers, “Should we continue where we left off?”
Swallowing, you manage a nod. Minho slides a leg between your thighs, catching you off guard. But the gasp you let out is muffled, because Minho captures your lips in another bruising, dizzying kiss, similar to the one you had when Jisung was watching.
But this time, he takes the lead, sucking your tongue into his mouth and swallowing your moans.
Meanwhile, his hands get busy, sliding under your outfit. You jump, startled from the feeling of his bare hands on your skin after so long, and you feel Minho smile against your lips.
“Cold?” he pulls away to ask, misreading your reaction, and you shake your head immediately, pulling him back closer.
“Too hot. Off. Now.” You whisper, fumbling with his mesh top. Because no matter how hot he looked with it, you want nothing but to feel his bare skin right now. Thankfully, Minho complies immediately, just as desperate to get his hands on you, too.
You both wiggle out the rest of your clothes, barely pulling away to breathe. Things would have gone faster if you both pulled away to take your clothing off properly, but peeling your lips away from Minho’s proved to be a hard task.
Minho’s kisses were addicting; soft as they were demanding. He wanted to take his time with you, but it was clear his patience was also running thin.
You shiver again when you were both left in nothing but your underwear, bare bodies finally pressing against each other, expensive clothing thrown somewhere around the room. You scratch a line down Minho’s biceps when the leg between your thighs hitches up higher, hard muscles brushing up against your clothed pussy.
Minho wraps his hand around your throat, just under your jaw, to push your head back against the wall before he drops his head to tongue at your nipple. You squirm and gasp,
throat flexing against Minho’s hand, hips jerking unevenly as you rode Minho’s knee.
“You look so flushed already, so pretty for me.” Minho whispers against your skin, sucking marks from your chest to your neck. The hand that was on your throat comes up to your mouth, and your lips part easily at the two fingers Minho slides inside.
His voice is tight when he orders, “Get these wet.”
You obey before he even finishes, and Minho clears his parched throat when you flatten your tongue, making a show of swallowing his fingers down to the first knuckle. He pulls away with a hiss when you start to swirl your tongue, and a smirk tugs at your lips at his dazed stare.
The smirk falters however, when Minho slides the hand between your legs then, using the wet appendages to circle your clit. You jerk and moan, squirming against the wall as you get wetter and wetter. Minho slides a finger in when you’re wet enough from your own juices, and he sucks in a sharp breath when you clench around his one finger.
“Minho, please-” you gasp, not really knowing what you were begging for, but Minho just shushes you, capturing your parted lips in a filthy kiss. It’s all tongue, lips barely moving as you pant. Minho slides another finger in slowly, and you both groan at the tight fit.
“Fuck,” Minho pulls away with a curse, breathing heavy. “You’re so tight.”
“It has been- ah, ah, three- three weeks, you know.” The way Minho pumps his scissoring fingers has him punching moans out of you, but the pace falters at your words.
“And nobody since then?” Minho whispers, pulling back to look you in the eye. His fingers were pressing on that spot inside, so it was hard to answer, but you managed to focus enough to meet his gaze and nod.
The resulting grin that appears on Minho’s face makes the effort worth it, but you’re not so sure about that glint in his eyes.
Your answer comes a second later, because Minho’s rubbing your sweet spot more intently now, pressing another filthy kiss to your lips before whispering, “That’s our good girl.”
Our.
“Shit,” your knees buckle, and Minho catches you easily with an arm around your waist.
His fingers slide out, and you whine at the loss, but then he’s wrapping another arm under your legs and carrying you to the bedroom.
He sets you down on the edge of the bed, and your eyes greedily take in the way his arms flex. You look up then, about to ask what he wanted to do, but the pointed look he was giving you gave you an immediate idea of what he wanted next.
“Down on your knees, baby. Let me use that pretty mouth.”
You slide down on the ground, thighs squeezing as you mouth at Minho’s cock through his tight boxers. He moans under his breath at the friction, letting you do what you want for a couple seconds, before he gets impatient and gives you a warning by tugging on your hair.
You pull off him at that, looking up to meet his dark gaze. He tucks your hair behind your ear gently, tone serious when he says, “Safeword.”
“Green for go, red for stop. If I can’t speak, I tap you twice for go, and I pinch you hard for stop.” You recite easily. Minho’s lips twitch at that, running a hand through your hair and scratching his nails against your scalp in obvious approval.
“Good girl.” He whispers, “get on with it.”
Keening at the praise, your tug Minho’s boxers down, now just as impatient to get to his cock too. It slaps up against his stomach when it's finally free from its constraints, and you bite back a moan at how flushed it already looked.
You take his cock in your hand carefully, flattening your tongue to lick a stripe up from the base to the tip. Minho sucks in a sharp breath, grip on your hair tightening at the action.
You then take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue sinfully and mimicking what you did with his fingers earlier. You manage to only sink down halfway before it gets too much and you pull off again, but you keep your lips pressed against the head as you take a breather.
Minho lips twitch. “Sure you can take it?”
You glare. You both knew you were the only one who could take his cock down your throat. But it’s been three weeks— a month basically, and a cock like this needed some getting used to again. Minho doesn’t force you, he never would, but Minho was also a piece of shit who loved to tease and annoy you.
Of course you can. You scoff. Who the fuck did he think you were?
Minho tsks at the look, not liking your obvious attitude. He tugs on your hair hard enough to make your expression falter.
“You have a mouth. Use your words.”
“Yes,” you exhale immediately, breath fanning over his reddened tip. At Minho’s twitch, you flatten your tongue, lapping up the precum that was slowly beading out. “I can.”
“Yeah?” Minho asks, eyes hooded as he watches you. “Remind me, then.”
You make sure to maintain eye contact as you sink further down, taking all of Minho’s cock until it hits the back of your throat. You gag momentarily, as you always do when you start to take Minho’s cock all at once.
Minho’s hand darts up quickly at the sound, ready to pull you off, but you squeeze his hips and make a noise. You tap his thigh twice to reassure him.
It wasn’t his fault you were eager.
Minho only relaxes when you do, breathing through your nose as your throat works against the head of his cock. He inhales through gritted teeth, shivering, but his mouth falls open when you finally start to bob your head up and down.
Experience lets you take Minho’s long cock down your throat smoothly, letting you enjoy the weight on your tongue and the pleasure of your partner above you. Minho wasn’t the loudest during sex, a title reserved for Chan and Changbin with their grunts and groans, but Minho had low moans and sharp inhales that sent shivers up your spine.
And if anything, Minho was the most coherent dirty talker.
“Down your throat, baby, that’s it, that’s it… slowly now.” Minho licks his lips, hands busy pushing your hair away from your face so he had a clear view of you swallowing his dick like a champ. You squirm at the words, thighs squeezing again to alleviate the throbbing between your legs.
“Fuck, gorgeous, just like that…”
You moan around his cock, and the vibration has his hips jerking, forcing his length further down your throat. When you don’t gag, Minho takes that as his cue to tangle both of his hands in your hair, fucking his hips back and forth.
Him guiding your head up and down his cock shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but then you look up, watching Minho’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure. He’s gasping quietly, lips now a furious shade of red from being bitten.
Surrendering the control, you let him take.
“Good girl, Y/N, letting me use your throat like this. What if you lose your voice tomorrow, hm? Everyone is going to know what you did with me.” You moan again, letting your jaw relax as Minho fucks in faster, hips jackhammering.
He hisses. “Yeah? You want everyone to know who you belong to? Want everyone to know you’re a little slut who takes cock down your throat easily?”
You do your best to nod even with his grip on you, teary eyes looking up at Minho’s glazed ones, and Minho lets out a moan so guttural at the sight that his hips falter.
What a fucking sight it was for Minho, to see your flushed cheeks, saliva-coated lips obscenely stretched around him. It was a sight he hadn’t seen for weeks, and seeing it again now was affecting him more than he’d like to admit.
The lewd, wet glucking noises of you just taking his cock echo in the room, and it’s not long before you feel drool seeping out your mouth and down your chin. Minho’s uneven breathing encourages you more than anything, swallowing every time he buries himself to the hilt.
“Fuck, fuck- you’re so good. You’re so good.“
Predictably, the tightening in Minho’s gut comes all too soon, so he slows down and regretfully pulls you off his cock. You whine in protest, but Minho shushes you, knowing if he kept going he’d have cum down your throat way too early.
He knows you’re thinking the same thing when you look up at him with a glare, eyes conveying you wouldn’t have minded, and Minho’s dick visibly twitches at that.
But you obey anyway, sucking on the head of his cock before you completely pull off to be petty, making him hiss. A long trail of spit follows when you lean back, coughing, and Minho uses his thumb to break the trail, watching with heated eyes.
Slipping his thumb in your mouth, Minho asks, “you’re gonna let me use your pretty cunt, too?”
You’re still a little bit dazed when you blink up at him, but you suck on his thumb, legs slowly spreading open in response, and it’s the only answer that Minho needs.
He hoists you up into the bed, eyes hungrily raking over your form as you bounce on the mattress. Minho spreads your legs apart, hands under your knees to expose yourself for him. You fidget, embarrassed, but Minho drinks in the sight of you greedily.
His fingers find their way back to your pussy, collecting your juices before two appendages slip right in. Minho sucks marks on your thighs as he opens you up, something he’s been dying to do since he saw you. He’s been touching them all night, remember how they felt on either side of his head.
Now, he can experience that again.
You’re not sure if you’re moaning from the third finger Minho slips inside or from the big mark he sucks on your inner left thigh, but either way, your toes were curling from pleasure, especially with every brush of his knuckle against that spot inside you.
Minho takes his time opening you up, knowing it’s been awhile for you and he wasn’t about to risk you getting hurt. He manages to squeeze a fourth finger in just to be sure, but at that point you were both ready to burst at the seams, you clenching around his fingers while his cock throbbed against your thigh.
“Minho,” you call, whines high in your throat as you squirm on the bed. Tapping his arm impatiently, you call again, “Minho, hurry.”
Swallowing, Minho pulls his fingers out, hands fumbling for his wallet on the nightstand to pull out a condom. You distract him by sucking your own marks on his lean chest, hiding a smirk when he jumps from your lips brushing against his nipple.
“Behave.” He glares, sliding on the condom with practiced hands. You laugh, but the smile on your face falters when Minho situates himself between you, hands guiding his cock between your pussy.
You moan when he slides his hips teasingly, cockhead brushing against your throbbing clit. You know he was gathering your juices so he could make the slide even easier, but if he isn’t pushing his cock inside you in the next five seconds, you might just lose your mind.
“Fuck me.” You gasp, and Minho’s hips stutter. You pull him down with your arms around his neck, lips brushing against his as you demand again, “Fuck me, Minho. I need you inside me, it’s been too long, please.”
With a final kiss to your lips, Minho pushes in, and you both moan in unison once you feel his walls pull around his cock. You’re already deliciously full even when you know Minho’s only got half his cock in you, but you lock your ankles behind his back, encouraging him to push in further.
“Y/N-“
“More,” you demand, looking directly at Minho’s dilated pupils. “I can take it. You know I can take it.”
“Fuck,” Minho grunts as he pushes in further at your command, sighing into your mouth. “I missed this. Missed you.”
You groan, more than used to his sizeable length inside you now. So you slap your palm against his bicep, impatient with the heat blazing inside you. “Then fuck me like you mean it.”
“Greedy.” Minho mutters with a chuckle, but tightens his grip on your hips and finally fuck his hips into you faster all the same.
You’re driven up the bed with the force of his thrust, your hands scrambling for purchase on the sheets. Minho doesn’t seem to like the movement, however, because he stops, ignoring your protests to flip you over to your stomach. You gasp, just barely managing to situate yourself on your hands and knees before he’s pushing back in, the position allowing him to reach in deeper than before.
You feel the weeks of pent up frustration in Minho’s movements, the both of you now lost in each other’s pleasure as he pulls you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. This time, it really does feel like you’re the only two people in the world, despite still being at Umbra.
Like this, being so close to Minho in a room that he made sure was camera free, sweaty bodies pressed against each other and hearing nothing else but his moans and praises in your ear— you have never felt safer.
“Ohh, fuck.” you gasp, head hanging low between your arms as Minho buries himself to the hilt with each thrust, now keeping you still. You were sure his fingertips were leaving indents in your waist, but the thought of waking up tomorrow and seeing his fingerprints on you just made you clench tighter.
You don’t know how long he fucks you like that. Minho grounds you with kisses pressed down your back and on your shoulder blades, but you let yourself get lost in the pleasure and take whatever Minho gives and gives and gives.
Then a phone rings.
You pay it no mind, too busy gasping as Minho drills his cock into you, but then Minho’s tugging your head up with a hand under your jaw. He directs your unfocused gaze to the nightstand, where his phone lights up with the notification of an oncoming call.
Lips brushing against your heated cheeks, Minho asks, “Who do you think that is, hm? Chan? Changbin?” and oh, fuck.
You clench tighter around him, and Minho smirks.
“What scenario do you think they’ll be madder at? When I ignore the call and tell them later it was because I was busy fucking you into the mattress? Or—”
Minho pulls back until only the tip of his cock is left inside, slamming back in and punching a moan so loud out of you that your arms give out.
“I answer the call right now and let them hear nothing but you moaning my name to the high heavens.”
“Minho,” you keen, the tightening in your core so intense that you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head, helpless to the way Minho expertly rolls his hips into you. His cock hits your sweet spot every time, knowing your body so well at this point. “Minho, Minho, please— I, please-“
“What do you want, gorgeous? Let me hear you say it. Loud and clear.”
“I- ngh, I want- I- I-“
“Properly, Y/N.”
“I want to cum- let me cum- I- fuck, ah, let me cum!” You’re whining at this point, desperate and thrashing in Minho’s arms, but he keeps you still with a simple grip to your hips and a warning bite to your shoulder. You gasp, “Please!”
Minho lets go of your jaw, letting your whole upper body drop down onto the mattress, with nothing but his hands on your hips supporting your lower body. Your moans were muffled now, cheeks squished against the sheets.
“Should I answer the call right now, then?”
Minho’s words were slurred into the back of your neck, breath hot against your skin and sending wave after wave of chills down your spine. His fingers come down to rub ruthless circles on your throbbing clit, making you teeter on the edge beautifully.
“They know how you sound like when you cum, baby. We all do.” Minho chuckles lowly, “They’re going to know your little cunt’s creaming around my cock, and they won’t be able to do anything but listen, huh? Fuck, you got so tight just now. You like that, sweetheart? Want them to hear?”
Minho’s words have your body pulsing with heat, and at this point you’re unaware of what sounds are coming out of your mouth. All you can process is your lips forming the shape of Minho’s name, but you know you’re cursing and moaning like crazy.
Minho gives up all pretenses of sounding composed, sounding dazed as he mutters under his breath, hips fucking into you faster, just as affected as you are.“God, you’re so loud- shit, listen to you. Mine to fuck hard into right now, ours to keep-“
“Yesyesyes, fuck, Minho-“
With a muted scream, your walls convulse around Minho’s cock, shaking in his arms as you let the pleasure overcome you.
You keep moaning as Minho lets you ride out your orgasm, his own teeth clenched as he holds himself back from his own release. You were sinfully tight, still sucking him in even when you were overstimulated out of your mind.
Minho was right behind you, your warm velvety walls and moans proving to be too much for him. He shifts positions, breathing much heavier now, but then you make a noise, hand coming up to weakly tap Minho’s hands on your hips.
“Minho, cum on my face.” You whine, saying something so lewd so easily that Minho has to stop himself from cumming right then and there. You both groan when he pulls out, and Minho mutters curses under his breath when he flips you over and sees you in your full glory.
You’re flushed red, chest heaving up and down, hair all over the place. Your eyes were glazed from pleasure, but there’s determination in them when you tug him up, reminding him of your demand earlier.
Minho crawls up, knees on either side of your stomach as he situates himself. He tugs off the condom hastily, slide easy with how slick his cock was from your juices. You lean up on your elbows, and the way you managed to keep eye contact with Minho even when you were still twitching from your orgasm has him groaning, pumping at his cock desperately.
“Fuck, baby, keep that mouth open. Shit, shit, I’m gonna-”
Your eyes flutter close just as Minho spills his load, hot and thick and spurting erratically, streaking your face white. Streaks of it paint your cheeks and chin, some of it even landing in your mouth, the rest coating your lips or dripping down your stomach.
Minho’s moans taper off to low grunts and quiet hissing, squeezing the last of his cum onto your stomach. He catches his breath, but it just gets knocked right out of him again when he sees you swallowing, scooping up the cum around your mouth with your fingers and licking it off.
What a fucking sight.
“Cum slut.” Minho calls playfully, still out of breath, and you glare.
“You eat well.” You defend, licking your lips. “Tastes good.”
Despite it all, Minho’s dick still gives an interested twitch at the confession, so he ducks down and captures your lips in a distracting kiss so you can both try to get your bearings back. Though his refractory period was good, he was still going to need a couple minutes.
And judging from the way your toes were still curling, you did too.
Minuo only pulls away when you start to loudly complain between kisses about cum drying, so he obediently gets up to find a damp washcloth and cleans your body and face up. He throws the discarded condom in the trash on his way back, flopping beside you on the bed and stretching languidly.
You snort, scratching your nails under his chin as he does so. “You’re like a kitty.”
“Kitty just fucked you hard and is tired, so.” Minho groans, stretching again, but leans into your touch anyway.
You moan, stretching yourself. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week.”
“Don’t say that.” Minho grunts, tone somber. “If you don’t pick up Chan from the airport, he really might kill me. I’m serious.”
You bark out a laugh at that, head thrown back. Your crinkled eyes spot Minho’s phone in the process, and you flush when you remember what drove you to the edge.
“Who was it?” You ask, gesturing to his phone.
Minho turns to his stomach and leans over you to check, then snorts when he sees the ID. “Chan.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t you block his number?”
“You know he has at least a hundred phones.” Minho reminds you with an eye roll, making you giggle. But then he turns serious. “Think he’s really going to kill me?”
You snort. “No. He’d never want your blood on his hands.” You sneak a peek at Minho slyly, mostly just to watch him squirm. “Might rough you up a bit though.”
Minho cuddles up to you with a groan, dreading the possibility. “As if he doesn’t put me in a hospital every time we meet up for judo.”
You smile softly, tucking yourself deeper into Minho’s embrace. He was half-joking. You’ve only been to their judo sessions twice, but each time, you had to deal with a whining Minho demanding kisses as compensation for the injuries Chan inflicted on him. Then, you had to deal with a jealous Chan who also demanded kisses because Minho was demanding kisses, which all eventually led to another session and more injuries. There’s a reason you’ve only gone twice.
Minho cards his fingers through your hair. “Sangmi called you yet?”
You raised your head up, eyes finding your clutch thrown somewhere on the floor. You consider your options, but ultimately decide against getting up and checking.
“If she did, I wouldn’t know. I’ll check later.”
Minho hides a smile behind his hand. “You’re staying, then?”
You hide your face in the crook of Minho’s neck, tone playful as you tease, “I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. Sangmi can wait in fear for what I’m planning to do next.” A thought niggles at the back of your head then, and you pull back. “About that. How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t.” Minho grins crookedly, “stroke of luck. I was running late and saw your car out front.”
“I’d know you blind, my ass.” You mock, laughing, but you’re cut off with your own squeal when Minho digs his fingers into your side. You laugh even harder, falling back against Minho’s chest as he cages you in his arms.
“Made you blush, didn’t it?” Minho asks, chin hooking on your shoulder before he captures your lips in a chaste kiss.
“Mhm,” you hum when you pull away, “of course. Charmer that you are.”
Minho’s eyes glint as he pulls you closer, letting you lie on his chest. The cool air of the room against yours and Minho’s heated skin felt nice, and you wonder faintly if you should nap. There was still desire brewing inside you, but if you were going to stay the night, you didn’t want to rush.
“Y/N.” Minho calls, just as the fingers trailing up and down your back start to make you drowsy.
“Hm?”
“When you said you needed to get away… was it—“ Minho swallows, and you blink, heart throbbing from the foreign look on his face. Minho was a person who was always certain and 100% sure in everything that he does, never one to second guess his decisions. So to see the doubt on his face… “Was it from us, too?”
You frown, sitting up.
The moment you left, Minho had called, of course. Chan, Changbin. All freaking out and asking where the hell you were. But you promised them a safe return, explaining the real reason before they could drive themselves crazy and send a search team out.
You just needed some time to think. Away from the media who knew you, from Sangmi, from your parents. But never away from your boys.
There was a lot of pouting when you forbade them from flying over to you, something that they could have done in a snap of a finger just to see you. But you had a job to focus on, and they had theirs.
“Not from you, never from you and the other two, Min.” You reassure, brushing a thumb against his cheekbone. “I just— I was overwhelmed and made a bad impulse decision. But at the same time, I knew I needed to be alone for awhile. You know me, right? From you, Chan, Bin, I would never-“
“Hey,” Minho shushes you with a kiss when he sees you start to panic. “I know now. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. I thought you got tired of-”
“Never.” You cut in immediately, shaking your head. Minho softens, cupping your cheek.
“Okay. I’m sorry for thinking that.” You wave his apology away, and Minho continues with a snort. “Besides, I think I held out pretty well while you were gone. Some,” he glances at his phone, grimacing, “...not so much.”
You relax, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you laugh lightly. “Leave him be. I may have left him hanging before I went MIA.”
Minho blinks, processing your words. Then he hisses, pinching your side and making you laugh again.
“No wonder! What did you do to the poor man? He’s been sulking for a whole month! We all have, but Chan stares at your pictures like he’s a widowed wife.”
You snicker at the mental image, but your mood instantly drops when you remember the reason why. You roll your eyes, tucking yourself back deeper into Minho’s embrace with a petty huff.
“Well, if he wasn’t so handsy with those Brazillian models claiming he was just being nice-“
“Christ,” Minho cackles, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stop you from talking. Your protests get muffled, and you squirm in his arms, glaring. “Children. Both of you.”
Minho finally lets you go when you start smacking his stomach, and you groan in fake protest when he pulls you back closer to cradle you in his arms.
With a sigh, he says, “You know he only has eyes for you, right?”
Your breath hitches, caught off guard at the sudden reminder. You pull away at that, making eye contact with Minho as you stare down at him.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Your eyes. Where are they?”
Minho stares up at you, face unreadable. Then his hand comes up, and he points to his face.
“Right here.”
“For fuck’s sake-“
You roll your eyes, scrambling to get off the bed, but Minho locks you in his arms before you could even set a foot on the floor. You fall back in his shaking chest, and despite your annoyance you could feel your lips twitch, because Minho’s laughter was contagious.
“I’m joking, I’m joking.” Minho giggles, nudging your cheek with his fingers so you’re facing him. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips, making you breathless and dissipating your annoyance in just a single second. “My eyes are on you too, gorgeous. Always on you. Ever since I first saw you.”
You soften at that, turning around to capture Minho’s lips in a longer kiss. He parts his lips easily, letting your tongues slide each against each other languidly. Minho kisses back like he was breathing in air, like it was something he needed to keep himself going.
And maybe it was.
You, him, Changbin, Chan. It was a harsh world out there, where money meant power and power meant staying alive. There will never be a moment where you’re all completely safe and alone. Someone, somewhere out there is waiting for a weakness, ready to strike. You always had to be on guard when talking to anybody, never knowing what their true intentions could be.
In your lives, privacy was a luxury, and complete trust was a rarity.
Though the line between friendship, lust, and love was blurred at this point, the trust you had with each other was unmistakable. Minho, Chan and Changbin were the only people you could trust with your life, and vice versa. The four of you could have all the material things in the world if you so wished it, but none of those meant anything if you weren’t by each other’s side.
These were words not one of you has said out loud, but it shows in the way they hold you. It showed in the way Minho protected you three. Changbin and Chan showed it in their own ways as well, never the ones to shy away from their affections. Your lives were a tangled mess, but you really wouldn’t have it any other way.
They were your boys.
You push Minho back down on the bed, napping out of the question now. But just as your breaths start to pick up from your heated kiss, a knock suddenly startles the both of you apart.
You and Minho share a panicked, concerned glance, both fully aware that you didn’t order any room service.
Minho immediately slides off the bed with furrowed brows, making sure your body is fully covered in the satin sheets before he makes his way over to the bathroom. He slips on a robe, and the guest knocks once more as Minho reaches the door.
Who could it be? You wouldn’t be surprised if it was a nosy Umbra staff, but you’d have expected Minho’s insiders to forbid anyone from coming near the room, considering Minho wasn’t too happy with the actual Umbra staff either.
Minho looks through the peephole, and you wait with bated breath. What you don’t expect, however, is the chuckle that Minho lets out as he fumbles with the lock and opens the door.
You relaxed at Minho’s chuckle, but you were still on edge since his body was blocking the doorway and you couldn’t really see who it was. So you call out, wary, “Who is it?”
Minho looks back at you over his shoulder, amused grin in place. Then he steps back, opening the door wider and revealing the newcomer, and a shocked, disbelieving noise bubbles out your throat before you could stop it.
Seo Changbin was leaning against the doorway, twirling a casino chip in one hand, stuffed duffel bag in the other. His eyes gleam when your gazes meet, and you feel that flame of desire ignite in you once again, this time bigger and brighter.
Changbin grins. “Got room for one more?”
Minho catches your eye with a knowing look, and you laugh.
Guess you were staying the night.