Chapter Text
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Yunho walked into the senior officer’s office with a heavy sigh, shoulders tight under the fluorescent glare. He sank into the chair across from the desk, spreading his legs, the paper cup of bitter coffee warming his palms.
''Alright,'' he muttered, voice raw with exhaustion. ''What did he do now?''
Every damn week it was something new with Mingi. A fight. A shank hidden in his mattress. Pills lifted from another inmate. A threat, a promise, a scuffle that ended bloody.
Yunho was used to violent men, this prison was where the lost causes ended up, the ones too much for the county, too much for the state. But Mingi... Mingi was worse than a problem. Every punishment on record had been tried: solitary confinement, revoked privileges, extended time. None of it mattered. He thrived on chaos, and the walls of the jail seemed to bend to him instead of break him.
Mingi had come in at 24 years old with a 17 year sentence. Armed robbery turned double homicide. His lawyers called it an accident. But the stories that made it through the grapevine called it what it was: a rival shot point-blank, the drug dealer and his friends gunned down, drugs and cash stuffed into a backpack, and even the man’s dog tucked under his arm when he fled.
Somehow, he had carved out power from the inside. Fear was currency in here, and Mingi spent it well. Inmates jumped him more than once, Yunho himself had pulled bodies off of him in the yard, but Mingi never broke. He came back bloody and grinning, and if the others didn’t respect him, they still learned to keep out of his way.
Only three years in after his initial sentence, parole was a pipe dream, long postponed after the major incident: the day he turned on a guard, ripped his gun out of the holster, and fired point-blank into the man’s skull. Yunho had seen it all, close enough to smell the gunpowder, close enough to hear the wet crack of the officer's bone as he dropped.
''Another yard fight. This time with Peter... or Tiger, whatever the hell he calls himself.'' The senior officer slid the report across the desk toward Yunho.
Yunho leaned forward, snatched the paper, and scanned the lines. Heated words, fists thrown, guards wrestling bodies to the dirt before Mingi reached for his shiv. A split lip, a strike to an officer’s jaw before they dropped him with the taser.
Yunho exhaled through his nose, long and heavy. ''So. How do we handle it?''
''Solitary,'' the officer muttered, his face as sour as Yunho's tone. ''Because that always works.'' The sarcasm cracked like a whip.
Yunho hummed back, dry, both men knowing it wouldn’t do a damn thing.
''I’ll send Garcia and Conley with you,'' the officer added, rubbing his temple.
Yunho groaned as he pushed to his feet, rolling his shoulders, bracing for whatever fight Mingi had left in him, or worse, whatever filthy, smart-ass remark he’d throw Yunho's way.
''Where is he now?'' Yunho asked, cracking his neck.
''In his cell. Roy’s still in the yard, so he’s alone.'' The officer stacked the papers neatly, then looked up at Yunho.
Yunho gave a curt nod, drained the last of his coffee, and dumped the cup in the trash on his way out.
The halls stretched ahead of him, the same echoing maze of concrete and steel he’d walked. The buzz of fluorescent lamps hummed overhead, the occasional shout from a cell bleeding into the corridor before dying out again. Yunho's keys rattled at his hip as he passed through the security gate, the electronic lock disengaging with a heavy click.
It wasn’t the fights that got to him anymore. Not even the taser reports or the bloody noses. What lingered was Mingi's mouth. The way he could throw out a remark without blinking, like rules didn’t exist for him, like decency was something other people had to follow.
''Bet you’d look good bent over that desk, Officer.''
''Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my cock in the yard.''
''Next time you cuff me, do it tighter...''
Yunho scowled at the memory, jaw tight. He wasn’t flustered by it anymore, not the way some rookies were when an inmate got bold. But Mingi's lack of boundaries, his shamelessness... It was a constant needle under Yunho's skin. Every interaction turned sideways, every order twisted into innuendo. There was no respect, no filter.
Another gate buzzed, the lock snapping back. Yunho pushed through, the sound of it slamming shut behind him like a gunshot. Ahead, the cell block waited, and with it, Mingi.
The cell block was quiet except for the hum of the overhead lights. Yunho's boots echoed against the platform as he approached, eyes narrowing on the figure inside.
Two tattooed arms hung loose through the bars, wrists resting casual like he was just waiting.
Yunho slowed, stepping closer to the fence rail, far enough that Mingi couldn’t make a sudden grab. He’d seen too many rookies caught like that. And Mingi loved nothing more than yanking a guard close just to prove he could.
As if sensing him, Mingi turned his head. The second his eyes locked onto Mingi, that grin bloomed, sharp, mischievous, full of trouble.
''Well, look who it is.'' His voice was smooth, low, carrying across the block with a bite of amusement. ''My favorite officer.''
Yunho didn’t bite. He stood there, jaw set, his expression flat as stone. Mingi leaned a little more against the bars, grin widening. ''You here to punish me, Officer? Or just couldn’t stay away?''
Yunho's eyes stayed cold, unblinking. He wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. He simply planted himself in front of the cell, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed anywhere but on the man inside. The peeling paint on the far wall. The flicker in the fluorescent light above. The scuff marks on the concrete where the last scuffle had dragged too close to the bars.
Anything but Mingi. But to that, the inmate’s grin only grew. Yunho didn’t need to look to know, he could hear it in his voice. ''You’re early. Must’ve missed me.''
But Yunho refused to give him a reaction. He shifted his weight, eyes tracing the cracks in the floor.
''You ever think about how much prettier this place would be if you smiled once in a while?'' Mingi's tone was light, teasing, almost playful. He leaned against the bars casually, his eyes fixed on Yunho as though he had all the time in the world.
But Yunho kept his jaw locked. His face stayed rigid, his expression the same blank stare he always wore, but the muscle in his cheek ticked once before he forced it still again.
''You’d look real good on your knees, you know that?'' Mingi pushed, his voice dropping lower, no trace of teasing now. The words were blunt, vulgar, said with the confidence of someone who wanted a reaction.
Yunho's chest tightened but he kept his gaze on the far door, his posture stiff, arms locked behind his back. He refused to give him the satisfaction of a glance.
''I bet I could make you beg. Hard man like you, bet you’d break real quick.''
The corner of Yunho's mouth twitched, a breath leaving through his nose too sharply. He pushed his shoulders back, standing taller, as if bracing himself against the pressure building in the small space.
Mingi chuckled, low and rough. ''Cold face like that.... makes me wanna see what you look like when you’re desperate. Wonder what it’d take to crack you open.'' His eyes lingered on Yunho, scanning him up and down, like he was scanning for any weak points.
Yunho's fingers flexed once against the baton at his hip, a sharp reminder to hold steady.
Keys clattered somewhere down the corridor, the metallic sound cutting through the air. Relief pricked in Yunho's chest, his lungs loosening slightly. Garcia and Conley were close. But even then, Mingi's grin widened. He leaned closer to the bars, lowering his voice until it was meant for Yunho alone. His expression was sharper now, more intense
''I’d love to wake you up with my cock still dripping inside that clenching hole, Officer. I’d fill you up so good.''
The words hit hard. Yunho's stomach lurched, heat shooting up his neck. His eyes widened before he snapped them back under control, his face returning to its cold, empty mask.
But Mingi had caught it, of course he had. His grin sharpened into something predatory, his eyes gleaming like he’d just been handed proof of everything he’d suspected. He tilted his head slightly, satisfied, watching Yunho work to bury the reaction.
''Evening,'' Garcia muttered as he approached, his boots heavy on the floor.
''Evening, let’s move him,'' Yunho said, his voice flat and clipped, though his pulse still throbbed against his throat.
Garcia swung the door open, the iron creaking loud enough to rattle the air. ''Hands behind your back, Song,'' Conley barked.
Mingi didn’t move right away. He stretched like a cat in a sunbeam, rolling his shoulders, muscles flexing under the thin prison tee. His hands braced casually on the bars, and that grin never slipped, locked right on Yunho like he’d been waiting for him all night.
''Well, ain't I just the luckiest man alive,'' Mingi said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ''Three guards just for me. Makes a man feel special.'' His grin was wide, unbothered, his posture loose even as he stood cuffed and surrounded.
''That's enough, Song,'' Garcia muttered as he stepped in, snapping the cuffs tight around Mingi's wrists.
Mingi tilted his head, turning just enough to keep Yunho in view, watching him the entire time the cuffs locked down. He didn’t resist, didn’t flinch. Instead, he held Yunho's gaze as though it was the only thing in the room worth his attention.
''Bet you’d rather be on your knees than standing there all stiff, Officer,'' he said, his voice dropping lower, the teasing edge replaced with something filthier, direct and meant to land.
Yunho's jaw tightened hard enough that the muscle jumped at the corner. He didn’t reply, didn’t let his eyes shift, but his body betrayed the smallest flicker of tension. He hated that Mingi noticed everything, that grin widened every time Yunho had to work to keep his face cold.
Conley moved in, a hand on Yunho's arm, nudging him out of the way so they could bring Mingi out of the cell. Mingi walked without a fight, his chains clinking softly, his body moving loose and almost casual. He wasn’t resisting, but it wasn’t compliance either. It was the confidence of a man who believed he was still in control. As they stepped him forward, Mingi leaned just enough to murmur in Yunho's direction, his voice pitched low so only he would catch it.
''I’ll make you scream louder than any taser would.''
The words hit Yunho low in his gut. His stomach clenched, his pulse stuttered, and for one sharp second he wanted to react. Instead, he shut it down. His face smoothed over, eyes straight ahead, expression as blank as the walls around them. The only sign was the tightness in his shoulders, a stiffness he couldn’t shake.
''Walk,'' he said, clipped and professional, falling into step beside them.
Mingi's low and pleased chuckle filled the corridor as Garcia took his arm and pulled him forward. The cuffs rattled with each step, metal scraping against metal. Their boots struck the concrete in sharp rhythm, the silence of the block broken only by their movements.
The quiet lasted seconds before Mingi filled it again. ''So where we goin’, boys? Romantic walk under the lights?''
His eyes flicked lazily to Garcia and Conley before snapping back to Yunho. ''Bet Officer Stoneface here wishes it was just the two of us.''
Neither Garcia nor Conley bothered to answer. They tugged Mingi harder, but his grin only widened as he walked, as if he enjoyed being ignored.
When he leaned closer again, his words slid out softer, meant only for Yunho. ''I’ll have you bent over before long. You’ll beg me to fuck you, Officer. I’ll make you forget your own damn name.''
Yunho didn’t look at him. His gaze stayed locked on the far end of the corridor, but his jaw was set tight. His voice came out flat and sharp, the words clipped at the edges. ''Keep walking.''
Garcia shoved Mingi forward another step, and still the grin stayed in place. ''Don’t worry. I’ll take my time with you. Nice and slow, so you remember every inch.''
The cuffs rattled again as they walked, Garcia’s hand heavy on his arm, Conley watching close behind. Mingi didn’t move like a man under escort. He moved like someone being paraded, his chin up, his eyes fixed on Yunho' profile. He kept his grin locked there, drinking in every flicker of strain that crossed Yunho's face, no matter how quickly it was buried.
''You know,'' Mingi said louder now, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls, ''they should thank me. I keep this place interesting.''
Then Mingi leaned in again, his tone dropping into a rasp, words rough and intimate enough that Yunho felt them more than he heard them. ''Can’t wait to watch you ride my cock, Officer. Face twisted, hole clenching, my cum leaking down your thighs while you beg me not to stop.''
The hit landed hard. Yunho's body betrayed him for a split second, his eyes flicked to Mingi, sharp and startled, heat creeping up the side of his neck before he could slam it back down. He snapped his gaze forward again instantly, but the damage was done.
Mingi's grin split wide, teeth catching the dim light. His voice turned smug and satisfied. ''There it is. Knew I’d get a look out of you.''
Yunho's jaw locked until it hurt. By the time Garcia glanced his way, his face was back to the same cold mask it always was. No hint of the slip remained. But Mingi had seen it, and that was enough.
The rest of the walk stretched long, the sound of rattling cuffs and boots on concrete filling the corridor. Mingi's voice never stopped. Every few steps he dropped another filthy line low enough for Yunho alone.
I’ll have you begging.
I’ll keep you cock drunk for days.
You’ll look so fucking good when you break.
Yunho didn’t let himself flinch. He kept his eyes on the corridor ahead, every muscle drawn tight. Garcia and Conley missed half of it, too focused on keeping Mingi in line. Yunho was grateful for that, because Mingi's words sat heavy in his gut, burning hotter the more he forced himself not to react.
Finally, they reached the segregation wing. The air was colder and quieter, the corridor lined with bare steel doors. Garcia swiped his card then twisted his key to unlock, the heavy lock buzzed before the door groaned open. The sound echoed off the concrete walls, loud in the stillness. Inside, the cell waited, nothing but a bed bolted to the floor, a toilet fixed in the corner, and bare walls stripped of anything else.
''Inside,'' Garcia ordered, tugging Mingi's arm to guide him in.
Mingi didn’t resist. He stepped forward without hesitation, his boots striking against the concrete floor of the cell. If anything, he seemed almost eager. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his cuffed hands, his posture casual, the same grin stretched across his face like he was in control of the entire situation.
Conley moved in beside him with the chain. Uncuffing him, he pulled Mingi's arms up, to then cuff him to the iron bar welded into the bed's frame. The steel clinked as the lock bit down tight, leaving Mingi's wrists stretched above him with no room to move.
''All set,'' Garcia muttered, brushing his hands off and glancing at Yunho for confirmation.
Mingi rolled his shoulders against the bed, testing the weight of the chain. His wrists pulled once, the metal rattling against the bar, but he didn’t fight it. The grin stayed fixed, his eyes sliding straight to Yunho as though none of the other men in the room existed. His steady gaze lingered there, both sharp and hungry.
''Let’s move,'' Yunho said, his voice flat, clipped.
Garcia and Conley filed out, their footsteps echoing as they left the wing, boots fading into the distance. Yunho turned to follow, with a hand on the door, he moved to close it.
''Jeong.''
The voice stopped him cold.
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t mocking. Just his name, spoken low, stripped of the usual grin behind it. Yunho froze in the doorway, his back stiff, hand tightening around the keys at his side.
Mingi's expression had shifted. The smirk was still there, but softened into something more focused, his eyes locked directly on Yunho. The regular playfulness and teasing now absent from his tone.
''Come in anytime, Officer. Walk in, climb on, use me, fuck yourself on my cock. I won’t stop you.''
For a moment, Yunho's chest tightened, his pulse rising into his throat. Heat crept up his neck, burning under his collar. He forced it down, pulling his face back into the same cold mask he always wore. He gave no answer, only turned to step out.
''Oh, by the way,'' Mingi called after him, grin sliding back into its usual place, wide and cutting. ''Your ears turn red when you blush.''
Yunho froze for half a second, jaw clenching, before forcing his stride forward. He didn’t look back.
Behind him, Mingi's low chuckle filled the cell, rolling out into the corridor, rattling against the steel as the door shut hard between them.
The halls had quieted by nightfall, the steady hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the occasional clank of a distant door echoing through the block. Yunho moved through his rounds like always, clipboard in hand, checking cells, nodding to guards half-asleep at their posts.
But his head wasn’t in it. Every time his boots struck the floor, the words came back.
Come in anytime. Fuck yourself on me. I won’t stop you.
He gripped the clipboard tighter, jaw set. He’d heard Mingi run his mouth a hundred times. He’d been called worse, offered filthier. But this was different. Mingi hadn’t been joking. That low, serious tone. There wasn't a grin, no laugh, it was an invitation.
Yunho tried to shake it off. He lingered by the break room long enough to pour himself stale coffee, the bitter burn grounding him for a moment. He leaned against the counter, staring at the chipped rim of the cup.
And still, it played again.
Use me.
Heat crawled up his neck. He shoved it down, tossed the coffee back, and set the cup aside.
He should’ve gone to the control desk. Should’ve filled out his logs and kept walking. Instead, his boots turned him down the segregation wing. The further he walked, the heavier the air felt, every echo of his steps louder than the last. His pulse thudded hard, his palms damp against the keys at his hip. At the end of the hall, the heavy steel door waited. Behind it, Mingi was chained, probably grinning, daring him to prove he wouldn’t crack.
Yunho stopped in front of it, staring at the lock, his breath caught somewhere tight in his chest. He stood at the door longer than he meant to, boots planted, keys cold and heavy in his grip.
It was stupid, completely reckless. He’d worked here too long to even consider it. One wrong move and his whole career was gone. Worse, if anyone ever found out, he’d be ruined. And yet his hand hovered near the lock.
Use me and fuck yourself on my cock. I won’t stop you.
The memory crawled back, Mingi's voice low, stripped of its usual teasing edge. It hadn’t been a joke, it hadn’t even sounded like a dare. It had been an offer. A filthy, shameless offer, and Yunho couldn’t stop hearing it.
He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the steel door.
Walk away.
But his feet wouldn’t move. Heat spread through his chest, climbing into his throat, his pulse hammering against his ears. He pressed his thumb hard against the cool metal of the key, trying to ground himself, trying to breathe.
No one would know. Everyone else was on shift rotation. The cameras didn’t cover this corner. All it would take was one turn of the lock, one step inside. Yunho's jaw tightened. His teeth pressed together until his head ached. Goddamn you, Song.
The key slid into the lock. His hand froze around it, fingers clamped so tightly on the metal it cut into his skin. His chest rose and fell too quickly, air dragging sharp through his throat as he fought the urge to pull it back out. For a long moment, he just stood in the corridor, ears straining for any sound, listening to the silence press down on him. His heart was hammering loud enough he swore it might echo off the walls.
Then, with his breath caught in his chest, he turned the key. The bolt gave with a sharp click, and the door shifted under his hand.
The hinges groaned as he pushed it open, just enough to slip through. He carefully pulled it shut behind him, easing it closed until it clicked. The sound was soft but final, sealing him inside with the weight of steel at his back.
The cell was dim. Only a weak slice of light bled in from the corridor window, laying faint shadows across the bed.
Mingi was stretched out flat, wrists bound to the iron bar above his head. The cuffs glinted faintly, steel biting into his skin. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. His head was turned slightly toward the wall, lips parted, lashes low over his cheek.
Yunho froze just by the door. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, his ears straining for anything, any hint that Mingi might be awake. He caught only the steady drag of breath, the faint rattle of chain when his arm shifted against the bar- nothing else.
For a moment, the thought cut sharp: what if he was pretending? What if that grin was waiting, teeth bared, ready with another filthy remark the second Yunho leaned too close? He couldn’t afford to walk into that trap.
His boots shifted on the floor as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving the man on the bed. He scanned every detail, bare arms slack against the mattress, chest rising slow and heavy, mouth slack in sleep. Still, he didn’t trust it.
His hand lifted, hesitating in the air before dropping down to touch Mingi's forearm. Warm skin met his fingers, just solid muscle. There was no twitch, no smirk or no voice. Just breathing, steady and deep. He dragged his hand lower, tracing over muscles until it rested on Mingi's chest. He paused there, palm spread wide. There was still no movement, not a single sound.
Yunho's throat worked as he swallowed, his breath catching in his lungs. He reached higher, skimming his fingertips over Mingi's jaw. The scrape of stubble met his skin, coarse and rough under his hand. Somehow Mingi didn’t stir, he was sleeping, he was truly sleeping.
Yunho's pulse roared in his ears, his body strung so tight it felt like he might come apart. The truth sank in heavily, this was his chance. He stood over him, his breath shallow, dragging his eyes down the length of Mingi's body.
Up close, he looked different. In the yard, behind the bars, Mingi was all teeth and muscles, every move calculated to provoke. But here, asleep, stripped of performance, the sharp edge was gone.
Yunho's gaze lingered on his hair first, dark brown, messy waves that fell past his nape. Strands clung to his forehead, scattered across his cheek like he hadn’t bothered to push them away after the fight.
His entire face was all sharp in the dim light — a strong nose, a hard jawline dusted with stubble that made him look older than his 27 years. And his mouth, full lips, parted slightly, slack in sleep, softer than they had any right to be.
Yunho didn’t let himself move yet, he just stared, caught between the pounding in his chest and the reality stretched out in front of him.
He swallowed, dragging his hand lightly over Mingi's forearm. Solid muscle under warm skin, a sheen of sweat still clinging. His right arm was covered in ink, black coils of a snake tattoo wrapping from wrist to shoulder. On the left, another design: a half-dragon. Scaled body winding up his bicep, claws outstretched, one wing unfurled across the curve of muscle. Sharp, flowing lines, bold, precise, every scale etched with care. It looked alive on him, as if the creature was only resting beneath his skin, waiting to tear free.
He let his hand wander lower, brushing over the firm swell of Mingi's chest beneath the thin white tank. Heavy muscle, thick and solid, the kind of size that drew attention even under prison wear. His palm hovered, then pressed lightly, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.
Yunho's gaze slid further, over the taper of his waist, lean and tight. A flat, toned stomach, skin stretched over hard muscle. Lower still, where orange fabric clung loose over wide hips, hinting at what lay beneath. Even lying flat on his back, the shape of him said everything, broad across the middle, built thick where it counted. Yunho's throat tightened at the sight in front of him.
His eyes dragged lower, past the flat stretch of Mingi's stomach to his legs. Thick thighs filled out the orange fabric until it strained, the muscle packed solid beneath. Long, heavy, the kind of thighs that could overpower a man in a fight. Yunho forced himself to look away, but his gaze flicked back almost immediately, tracing the line of them again, unable to stop himself.
He exhaled sharply through his nose and brought his hand back up, brushing against Mingi's jaw. His thumb grazed the corner of his mouth. The lips were softer than they should have been, too full for a man with Mingi's history, too easy to imagine parted around something far worse than breath.
''Fuck,'' Yunho muttered under his breath before he caught himself. His body went still, shoulders stiffening as if the word alone might be enough to wake him. But Mingi didn’t stir- his lashes stayed low, his chest rising steady. Still asleep. The realization only made Yunho's pulse pound harder, as though the risk itself spurred him on.
He slid his palm down Mingi's neck, following down over his shoulders and collarbones, until his hand landed square on his chest. The tank top clung thin to his skin, fabric warmed by the heat beneath.
Yunho hesitated, then brushed over one nipple with the edge of his thumb over the fabric. The touch was small, testing. Mingi shifted slightly at the contact, chest rising deeper, a sigh slipping from his lips. His mouth parted, but his eyes didn’t open. All Yunho could hear was the ring of his blood rushing.
Braver now, he let his hand drift lower, sliding down over the flat plane of his torso, the taut skin stretched over a stomach that was all tone and muscle. His palm stopped when it hit the waistband of the orange pants. His chest tightened, torn between the urge to push lower and the fear of crossing that line too soon. He pulled back, setting his hand firmly against Mingi's thigh instead.
The muscle was dense beneath his palm, the kind that flexed even in sleep. He squeezed lightly and felt both fat and power shift under his hand. He pressed harder, his thumb sinking slightly into the bulk of him before dragging closer, his touch careful but firm.
His fingers skimmed across the inside of Mingi's thigh. The heat coming off him got stronger, radiating through the thin barrier of fabric. So close now that Yunho could feel the weight straining against the pants without even touching it directly.
Eyes locked on his face, Yunho lingered there, watching. Mingi's breath caught once, lashes flickering. For a sharp second, Yunho thought he’d been caught. But then Ming exhaled again, deep and heavy, his body loose, still asleep.
Yunho's throat worked as he swallowed. His hand trembled where it rested against Mingi's thigh, his fingers twitching with the decision he already knew he’d make.
He slid higher. The heat built with every inch until his palm pressed directly against the bulge straining under the orange fabric. Mingi shifted faintly, his brows drew together, his lips parting around a sigh.
The response was undeniable. Even unconscious, Mingi's body reacted under his hand. The swell beneath the fabric thickened, pushing against his palm. The shape rose heavier with each beat, straining against the cloth.
Yunho drew in a sharp breath, his chest tight. He didn’t pull away. He pressed lightly instead, spreading his fingers to feel more of him, tracing the size through the fabric to which another twitch followed, another sigh breaking from Mingi's chest. His breathing shifted heavier. His jaw flexed, the faintest groan catching in his throat.
His ears burned, heat crawling over his skin. His hand pressed harder, not just resting but kneading, testing the weight in his palm. He worked over the thick bulge, squeezing, molding to the shape as it filled his grip.
The cock under his hand swelled, stiffening with every touch. Each squeeze brought another unconscious reaction, Mingi's hips tilted faintly, his chest rose deeper, a low sound rumbled from him that wasn’t quite a word.
Yunho's throat closed, torn between panic and hunger. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be doing this. His career, his control, his pride all screamed to stop. And yet his hand didn’t leave, it pressed harder, feeling the girth grow heavier, thicker, stretching against fabric.
His hand trembled where it rested against Mingi’s thigh. For a second, he thought he could stop there, that pressing any further would be too much. But his fingers hooked under the waistband almost on their own, dragging the elastic down. His knuckles brushed hot skin, and the contact made his pulse jump painfully in his throat. He swallowed hard, heart pounding, and pushed lower. His hand slid inside.
His palm was filled with heat, bare flesh thick and hot, heavy against his skin. The breath caught in Yunho’s chest at the suddenness of it, the weight settling into his grip as though it belonged there.
Mingi stirred faintly, a rough sound slipping from his throat. His face pulled tight, brows knitting, hips shifting slightly against the mattress. His cock twitched hard in Yunho’s hand, a pulse of blood swelling it thicker.
Yunho froze instantly as his lungs locked up, his eyes glued to Mingi’s face, waiting for the lashes to lift, for that sharp grin to break across his mouth. But it didn’t happen, Mingi stayed unconscious, his chest rising and falling deep, lips parted around another sigh that dragged slowly from his throat.
His hand stayed clenched around Mingi's, every nerve screaming to let go, but he couldn’t. The size of it filled his grip, hot and swelling, each throb stronger than the last. Slowly, his fingers closed tighter, his palm curving around the sheer girth. The weight of it settled heavy in his hand, hardening against his skin until it felt too big to hide, too big to ignore.
His stomach tightened, a breath breaking unevenly from his lips. He shifted his grip, sliding his hand down the long, thick cock, mapping the shape. Veins raised beneath smooth skin, ridges that caught beneath his fingertips as blood pulsed through them, making the whole thing twitch in his grasp. He curled his fingers, dragging his fist upward in a slow, testing stroke.
The skin slid beneath his palm, slick and hot over the hardness underneath. The sensation made Yunho’s head swim. He’d seen inmates bare before, stripped for searches or in the showers, but never like this. Never with the air heavy, his hand around a cock that wasn’t meant for him, with no barrier between his self-control and this man. This was different., it was… forbidden. The burn of it lit him up inside, dangerous in a way he couldn’t pull back from.
Mingi shifted again, hips rolling faintly as though his body recognized the touch in sleep. A deeper breath dragged from his chest, heavy and rough. His face scrunched tighter, lashes twitching, another sigh breaking loose from between his parted lips. His cock jerked once in Yunho’s grip, straining, filling out until it was fully hard, solid and alive against his palm.
Yunho’s breath faltered. His hand tightened once more, the full length pressing against his fingers. The weight of it pulsed there, undeniable. He shouldn’t be doing this, but his grip only tightened.
The memory of Mingi’s words rose sharp, impossible to push down. Fuck yourself on me.
He swallowed hard. His knees bent until they hit the cold concrete, his body lowering in front of the bed. He crouched, breath shallow, every muscle tight as he leaned closer. Yunho’s eyes never left Mingi’s face, searching for the smallest flicker of lashes, any twitch of awareness that would stop this before it went too far.
But Mingi didn’t move. His chest lifted in steady rhythm, lips parted on quiet breaths, the slackness of sleep unbroken.
Yunho’s fist stayed tight around him, and with his free hand, he tugged at the waistband, dragging the fabric down slowly until the cock spilled out fully, freed from the orange pants. Yunho’s breath caught the second he saw it bare.
It had felt big in his hand, but seeing it left him dizzy. Long, thick, the shaft curving upward, veins snaking along its surface, the flushed head glistened wet. The sight alone made Yunho’s own cock twitch painfully against his uniform pants, an ache that hollowed out his stomach and filled it with heat.
He wrapped both hands around his cock, fully embracing it. He dragged upward slowly, his gaze locked on the way it moved in his hold, the twitch when he reached the tip, the slick bead smearing wet across his thumb, the steady pulse hammering under the skin.
He couldn’t look away, every detail held him there, his breath shallow, his mouth parted. The longer he stared, the more it consumed him.
Leaning forward, he drew a breath through his nose and parted his lips. A string of saliva spilled from his mouth, thick and slow, dripping over the head. It slid down the shaft, catching in the grooves of veins until it spread into a shine.
Yunho’s hand moved again, spreading it. Saliva mixed with precum under his fist, his strokes faster now, grip firmer. The cock twitched hard at the pressure, heat burning into his palms.
Mingi didn’t wake, but his body still reacted to him. His thighs tensed under the thin fabric of the pants, muscles tightening. His chest rose deeper, each inhale rougher, his lips parting wider. His hips rolled faintly against the mattress, small shifts in time with the strokes.
Yunho’s mouth watered. He couldn’t stop staring at the thick cock jerking in his grip, veins standing out, the flushed head leaking freely. He stroked harder, faster, his breath catching in small gasps as though the sight itself was too much.
Then Mingi’s whole body jolted. His cock twitched violently in Yunho’s hands before thick ropes of cum spilled across his stomach. White streaks marked his skin, running over muscle and dripping down to soak the hem of his tank top.
Yunho leaned forward without hesitation. He pressed his mouth to the mess before it could sink into the fabric, lips sealing over the tank stretched across his stomach. He sucked, pulling the warm spill into his mouth, the taste flooding his tongue- salt, sweat, musk, sharp and overwhelming. His throat worked as he swallowed, a faint sound escaping him, almost a moan. His body trembled from the intensity of it, knees weak against the floor.
Mingi softened gradually in his grip, weight going slack. Yunho eased his hand away, careful to let go, though his pulse thundered from what he’d just done. Rising to his feet, he reached for his belt buckle.
The faint clink of metal sounded far too loud in the quiet cell. His stomach knotted, panic flashing for a beat as he froze, listening. Mingi’s breathing stayed heavy and even- still asleep.
He forced a breath out through his nose and moved slower. He slipped the belt free from the loops and crouched to place it carefully on the ground, far enough from the bed that Mingi couldn’t reach it if he were to try.
His shoes came next. He slid them off one by one, setting them neatly by the belt. His zipper followed, the sound sharp even though he pulled it down as carefully as he could. The uniform pants lowered inch by inch until they pooled around his knees. He stripped his shirt next, peeling it from his body and folded it, placing it on the concrete. He wanted it clean for later, free from the smell clinging to the air now.
Before he returned to the bed, his hand searched the pockets of his pants. Keys, lighter, pen, then finally, his fingers closed around the small metallic tube. The hand cream he carried, the closest thing he had to lube. He pulled it out and set the pants aside, clutching the bottle tight.
Kneeling back at Mingi’s side, Yunho leaned over him once more. His eyes scanned his face in the dim light. No sign of change. Mingi’s lashes stayed low, chest still rising with deep breaths.
His gaze fell lower. The cock rested soft now against the swell of his thigh, long even when flaccid. The sight made Yunho’s throat dry, his body leaning forward before he could think better of it.
Yunho licked his lips, nerves raw and burning under his skin. His fingers shook faintly as he tugged at the waistband, dragging Mingi’s pants lower until the fabric bunched at his knees, leaving his thighs bare and spread. The tank top rode higher under Yunho’s hand, exposing the cut of his torso, the lines of firm muscle drawn tight across his stomach.
He hesitated only a second before reaching down again, wrapping his fingers around the cock resting against Mingi’s thigh. Even soft, it was heavy in his palm, thick and warm, twitching faintly at the touch.
This time he didn’t stroke. He didn’t test or tease. His lips parted as he bent low, breath hot across the skin, before closing his mouth over him.
It hit him immediately, the salty, sweaty and musk taste was so sharp, and so good. His tongue pressed to the flesh as his lips closed around the shaft, heat flooding his mouth. The weight of it spread against his tongue, thick and alive even before it hardened.
Yunho nearly moaned right there, the sound caught low in his throat. His cheeks hollowed as he drew him deeper, swallowing down the twitch against his tongue.
Mingi’s chest shifted, a sharp breath dragging in. His brow furrowed, his mouth slackening further, but his eyes didn’t open. His body stayed heavy on the mattress.
Yunho held the base steady with one hand, holding him upright. He moved slowly, pulling off just to slide back down, coaxing, urging it to swell, and it worked. The softness thickened under his tongue, swelling, pushing his lips wider, pulsing harder with each beat. Veins rose firm beneath the skin, pressing against the wet glide of his tongue until it filled his mouth inch by inch.
His free hand fumbled for the lotion. A squeeze, cool slickness coating his fingers, a sharp contrast against his overheated skin. He reached behind himself, spreading the cream between his cheeks. His fingertip circled his entrance, cool and wet, before pressing in.
His body resisted at first, clenching tight, but then gave, the finger slid inside. His toes curled against the hard floor, his thighs twitching as he worked himself open slowly, all while his mouth stayed sealed around Mingi’s cock.
The cock grew harder with every pull of his lips, every hollow of his cheeks. By the time he pushed a second finger inside himself, Mingi’s cock was solid, heavy, fully swelling in his mouth. Precum slicked his tongue, mixing with spit that dripped down the shaft as Yunho pumped the base in rhythm.
Two fingers spread him wider, twisting, pressing until he curled them just right. The spark of pressure against his prostate made his vision blur. His moan slipped free before he could stop it, vibrating down the cock in his mouth.
Mingi’s hips rolled faintly against the mattress, a low groan rumbling from his chest. His cock jerked hard, throbbing against Yunho’s tongue. His eyes stayed shut, but his breathing had shifted, heavier, quicker.
Yunho blinked through wet lashes as he forced a third finger inside. The burn was immediate, sharp and overwhelming, his hole stretching wide around the intrusion. His body trembled, torn between the ache and the pleasure. He gasped through his nose, cheeks stretched wide around the cock, drool slipping down his chin. The fingers pressed deeper, curling against his prostate, each stroke wringing more heat through his core.
He pulled back at last, lips dragging until Mingi's cock slipped free with a wet pop. His chest heaved as he gulped air, spit strung from his lips to the cock standing rigid above Mingi’s stomach. It swung upward with the release, hard and flushed, slick with his saliva.
Yunho sat back on his knees, thighs shaking from the stretch of his own fingers that now slowly left him. His eyes locked on the cock glistening in the low light, thick and erect, waiting.
His body moved before his thoughts caught up. He rose shakily to his feet, gripping the bed's frame to steady himself. His legs trembled, his breath ragged. He scanned Mingi’s face in the dim light, he was still asleep. Still breathing quick, brows drawn tight, mouth slack and open, chest lifting sharp with each inhale.
Yunho’s throat tightened. His body burned as his gaze dragged back to the thick cock standing between them.
Planting one knee on the mattress, his eyes locked on Mingi’s face the whole time. The bed dipped faintly under his weight as he shifted, swinging his other leg across until he was straddling him. The position made his pulse thunder in his ears. Now he was over him, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips, Mingi’s cock standing hard and slick between them.
His hand slid back, wrapping firmly around the cock to hold it steady. The heat throbbed into his palm, thick and hard against his skin. He froze there, hovering. Doubt sliced through the haze... he could still stop. He could still back away before he crossed the point of no return. His eyes scanned Mingi’s face, searching for any sign of awareness. His brow was creased, his chest lifting with the slow rhythm of sleep, lips parted but slack. No sign he was awake.
Yunho’s gaze dropped lower, catching on his own cock. Red, flushed, dripping precum down the length of him, the ache so sharp it hollowed him out. His whole body burned with need, trembling with the effort of restraint.
The hesitation broke, he angled Mingi’s cock upward, the insistent, fat head pressed against his rim. The first touch made Yunho bite his lip, the sound in his throat almost breaking free.
He sank down slowly, thighs shaking as the thick head pushed inside. His rim stretched painfully, fire shooting up his spine. A thin, broken whimper escaped before he could stop it, barely loud enough to echo in the cell.
Dropping lower inch by inch, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Each throb of Mingi’s cock forced him wider, pushing deeper into his body. His nails dug into his thigh where he clutched it, the sting grounding him against the flood of sensation. The stretch alone made his vision blur.
When he finally sank all the way down, his body convulsed. Mingi’s cock was buried to the hilt, thick and hot inside him. The ache was searing, his walls clenching and spasming around the intrusion, torn between resisting and embracing it. Yunho’s hands shot out, pressing against Mingi’s stomach to brace himself. The muscle beneath was solid, hard planes shifting with each heavy breath. Yunho’s chest rose and fell, sweat breaking across his brow as his body struggled to adjust around the cock stuffed deep inside.
Beneath him, Mingi stirred. A sound rumbled from his throat: low, rough, so close to a moan. His chest rose harder, breaths quickening. Yunho froze instantly, his whole body tense as he stared down at him. Mingi’s head rolled faintly against the pillow, his brow furrowed tighter, lips parting further, but his eyes stayed shut.
Still asleep. But his body knew.
Yunho swallowed hard and braced himself, palms flat against the warmth of Mingi’s torso. His arms trembled as he shifted, drawing in a ragged breath. Slowly, carefully, he lifted himself. The cock dragged against his walls as it pulled out halfway, every ridge grinding against him, stretching him raw even as it retreated. His rim clamped tight around the girth still inside him, trying to hold it there. Then gravity pulled him back down.
The cock punched back into him, bottoming out with a force that made his breath shatter. His mouth fell open in a soundless O, a faint gasp tearing from his lips as he clenched down hard around the thick length filling him.
Mingi moaned beneath him, the sound broken and heavy. His head rolled again, his chest heaving faster, his chained wrists rattling faintly as his muscles shifted. His body responded as if he knew what was happening, even if his mind stayed locked in sleep. So Yunho moved again.
He rose, thighs burning, until half the cock slid out of him. Then he dropped harder, the head slamming into his prostate. A strangled whimper forced its way from his throat. The sheer size, the way it battered him from the inside, threatened to undo him on the spot.
The blend of pain and pleasure cut through him. Each descent dragged his rim wide, raw and needy, while sparks shot from the spot deep inside that the cock struck again and again. His thighs quivered, his body struggling to handle the intrusion, but hunger drove him.
So he picked up a rhythm, lifting, dropping, grinding down once he was fully seated. He rolled his hips, circling so the shaft inside him pressed against every spot, scraping him open and setting every nerve alight. Precum spilled freely from his own cock, streaking hot across Mingi’s stomach as he ground down harder.
His eyes flicked to Mingi’s hands. His fingers curled hard into the mattress, knuckles pale against the sheets. His chest rose rough, his lips parted wider, a faint groan catching in his throat. Even bound in sleep, his body gave everything away.
Yunho bit down on his lip, swallowing his sounds, but they broke through anyway. Each drop had him gasping, each grind tore whines from his chest. The mattress groaned under their weight, chains rattling faintly as Yunho rode harder, hips snapping, bouncing on the cock that split him over and over.
''Ah- hnngh- fuck-'' The noises slipped out, ragged and breathless, his chest heaving as sweat rolled down his temple.
Wet, obscene sounds filled the cell, his hole gripping and releasing Mingi's cock with every thrust. His thighs trembled, his muscles shaking with effort, but he couldn’t stop. Every slam down left him seeing stars, every grind made his cock drip more precum on Mingi’s skin. His walls fluttered and clenched in desperate spasms, trying to milk the cock buried inside.
His control completely broke, he stopped caring about restraint, about silence. Whines poured from him, high and raw, each one louder than the last. He was chasing it now, bouncing and grinding with abandon, his body shuddering under the constant pounding against his prostate.
Underneath, Mingi’s breathing quickened, his chest lifting harder, another moan spilling from his lips. His body moved with Yunho’s, hips rolling faintly in his sleep, wrists tugging weakly at the restraints. The sight only pushed Yunho closer, his body unraveling as he rode faster, fucked open and trembling on the edge of release.
A voice cracked through the haze.
''Holy fucking shit.''
Yunho’s eyes snapped open at the sound, but his body didn’t stop. He was still bouncing on Mingi’s cock, grinding down hard, riding desperately like nothing else existed. His thighs shook violently, sweat dripping down his spine, every thrust into his prostate tearing cries from his throat. He panted raggedly, heat spilling off his body in waves, and all he could do was look down.
Mingi’s eyes were wide, his face twisted in shock. For once there was no smirk, no smug grin ready to throw out some disgusting remark. His brows were furrowed deep, his lips parted in disbelief, chest heaving like he couldn’t process what was happening. He looked undone, stripped of his usual demeanor, staring at the officer bouncing on his cock like the world had tilted on its axis.
Yunho’s face crumpled, his lips pulling into a helpless pout as heat burned in his cheeks. His voice broke into a whiny, trembling plea, the sound raw and needy.
''I- I wanna cum.. please'' His voice cracked, high-pitched, choked. ''I can’t- please, Mingi, I need to so bad.''
That was all it took. The words snapped Mingi out of his shock like a slap.
''Fuck- oh, fuck yes, baby.'' His legs shifted, knees bending, feet planting into the mattress. The bed groaned as his hips bucked upward, slamming into Yunho with brutal force.
''Aahhh- ! F-fuck- ahh-'' Yunho’s cry split the air, loud and broken, his hands collapsing onto Mingi’s chest to brace himself. His whole body jolted with every thrust, thighs trembling violently as Mingi pounded into his prostate without mercy.
He whimpered with every snap of hips, the noises tumbling high and frantic.
''S-so good- ahhh d-don’t stop, don’t stop, please...'' His voice cracked around the words, desperate and unguarded, the kind of begging that shredded his pride but felt too good to hold back.
Mingi groaned, guttural, the sound dragging up from his chest as he stared at the sight above him. ''Fuck… you sound so good, such a needy little thing… look at you, Officer, whimpering on my cock-''
Yunho’s eyes fluttered, glassy with tears. His mouth fell open around another needy sob as he tried to hold himself up, nails scraping against Mingi’s chest without strength. ''P-please...please, I can’t- I need-ahhh I need to cum..''
Mingi’s thrusts grew harder, the bed rattling under them, the cuffs clinking overhead. The wet sounds filled the cell, each slam of cock into Yunho’s ruined hole filled the entire room. Yunho’s whines grew louder, his cries mixing with Mingi’s ragged groans until the air felt thick with them both.
''Cum for me, baby,'' Mingi growled, his voice rough and desperate. His hips drove harder, faster, the mattress shuddering under the force. ''Do it- fuck, I wanna see you lose it on my cock-''
Yunho’s back arched, his head tilting back, eyes squeezing shut as the thrusts pummeled into his prostate over and over. His voice cracked into ragged sobs of pleasure, his cock jerking wildly, precum streaking hot across Mingi’s chest.
''Ahhh- fuck- ohhh my god M-Mingi!'' His broken cry filled the cell. The pressure inside him burst, his orgasm ripping through him so hard his vision blurred.
'' I-.. 'm gonna cum..'' The words fell apart as his body gave in.
Cum spurted in thick ropes up his stomach, across Mingi’s chest, spilling between them. Each pulse of release left Yunho trembling, his whines turning into loud, broken moans. His thighs trembled, his nails dragging weakly over Mingi’s skin as he fought to stay upright. Mingi groaned beneath him, eyes wide and feral as he watched.
''Holy fuck- look at you, baby, cumming so hard on my cock- fuck-'' His hips never slowed, rutting up into Yunho even as the officer convulsed, his hole milking every inch.
Yunho collapsed forward, body giving out, his chest pressed to Mingi’s. His cum smeared hot between them, sweat dripping from his temple, every shudder wringing out more. His moans were loud, messy, shameless, as his hole clenched and spasmed tight around the cock buried inside him.
Mingi's eyes burned, his breath ragged as he stared at the officer trembling above him. Thick cum sticking to his chest, proof of how hard Yunho had broken on his cock. The feeling lit something feral in him.
''Fuck- you’re unreal,'' Mingi groaned, hips snapping up with sudden force.
Yunho cried out, high and raw, the sound torn from his throat. His body jolted with the impact, overstimulated, his hole clutching tight as Mingi drove into him.
''No- ahhh... s-so sensitive- fuck-'' Yunho whined, voice breaking, tears pricking at his eyes. His thighs shook as Mingi pounded up into him, using him, chasing his own peak.
Mingi’s jaw clenched, his own body straining as he chased his peak. ''Can’t stop, baby- fuck, you feel too good.''
His hips snapped hard, cock dragging against Yunho’s overstimulated walls, pounding into him until his head tipped back with a guttural groan. ''Shit-Yunho, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m gonna cum.''
One brutal thrust buried him deep, and then he broke. Mingi’s cock twitched hard, spilling hot, thick ropes inside Yunho’s clenching hole. His hips jerked through it, fucking every drop deeper, grinding upward as his cum filled him to the brim.
Yunho whimpered helplessly at the flood of heat, his body seizing as the cock pulsed inside. His thighs trembled violently, his forehead pressed to Mingi’s shoulder, his breath shattered into broken gasps.
Mingi groaned deep, his body jerking with each spurt until he finally slowed, chest heaving, sweat glistening across his skin. His wrists rattled faintly against the cuffs, the chains clinking with every aftershock.
Yunho sagged heavily against him, limp and shaking, his arms draped on the mattress. His lungs burned, sweat dampened his hair, his whole body trembling from the force of what had just happened. He couldn’t think, couldn’t regret, couldn’t do anything but breathe.
Mingi stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, still panting, disbelief etched into his face. Then he looked down at Yunho, at the officer curled on top of him, trembling and soaked in sweat and cum. Awe flickered there, almost soft, before his grin spread slow across his face.
''Well... fuck. Never thought I’d see the day.'' His voice was rough, weaker than usual, but laced with satisfaction.
Yunho only groaned faintly against him but didn’t move. Mingi only chuckled at the lack of reply, breath shaky, the sound rumbling low in his throat. ''All that cold shit you give me, Officer... and here you are, whimpering on my cock. Knew you’d break for me one day.''
Yunho shifted weakly, his body twitching like he wanted to argue, but he stayed draped over him, still letting Mingi stay buried inside. His silence only made Mingi’s grin widen.
''Could’ve just said you wanted me. Would’ve saved us both some trouble,'' Mingi murmured, his tone still smug but gentler now, something else tugging underneath.
Yunho shuddered, his chest still rising hard, his lips parted but no words leaving him.
Mingi exhaled rough, gaze softening. ''You’re even prettier when you give in.''
Finally, Yunho shifted, thighs trembling, wincing faintly when Mingi’s cock twitched inside him.
''Easy,'' Mingi muttered, his grin softened now, smugness lingering only at the edges. ''Don’t go hurting yourself, baby. You’ve already worked for it.''
Yunho groaned quietly, dragging his arms under him. His legs trembled as he lifted himself, and with a wet, obscene sound, Mingi slipped free. Cum leaked instantly, hot and messy, dripping down the inside of Yunho’s thighs.
Mingi’s head tilted, eyes locked on it. ''Fuck,'' he rasped, ''Look at that. Me dripping out of you. Never thought I’d get to see it.''
Yunho’s face burned as heat crawled up his cheeks. His body moved on instinct, his fingers trembling as he reached back, scooping a hot spill of cum from his own hole. He brought his hand forward, his eyes fixed on Mingi’s, and slipped his fingers past his lips.
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked them clean, tongue curling to lick up every drop. His eyes fluttered shut briefly as he hummed softly, savoring the taste before dragging his fingers free with a wet slurp sound.
Mingi’s jaw dropped. His face was pure shock, eyes wide, chest rising hard. A ragged, broken laugh left him. ''F-fuck... holy fucking shit.''
Yunho lowered himself onto the mattress beside him, his body weak, his face dazed but not regretful. Mingi shifted against the cuffs, rattling them faintly. ''Get over here,'' he muttered, voice softer now, coaxing.
Yunho hesitated, then leaned against him, resting his head on Mingi’s shoulder.
''Good boy,'' Mingi murmured, his grin faint but smugness still glinting in his tone. ''All those years you shut me down, and now you’re lying here, filled up with me. Didn’t think I’d win. But I did.''
Yunho just breathed against him, eyelids heavy.
Mingi chuckled low, letting his head fall back, his grin never fading. ''Don’t worry, Officer. I’ll take good care of you next time.''
Silence stretched between them, broken only by their uneven breaths. Yunho’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, his chest still rising hard. Finally a soft, breathy chuckle slipped past his lips, disbelief lacing the sound.
Mingi’s grin widened faintly, satisfaction flickering sharp at the sound leaving the usually stoic, guarded officer.