Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sangwon’s pretty well known at the port, just not for any of the reasons he actually wants to be.

Words get around fast down here. One shaky phone clip of him climbing out of the cockpit, helmet tucked under his arm, and suddenly everyone knows about the guy with soft doe eyes and a mouth that looks like it was made for saying please.

He gets it. He owns a mirror but he wants them to notice the way he brakes later than anyone else into turn nine and comes out clean or how he short-shifts out of the hairpin and still leaves them two car lengths back.

Instead, every single night is the same tired ritual.

There’s always some guy, face smug as he leans against Sangwon’s front wing like he owns it. Same cheap body spray, some recycled line – a little variation if he's lucky.

“How about a bet, pretty boy? If I win, I’ll show you a good time.”

Sangwon doesn’t answer right away. 

He just tilts his head, slowly, and looks up through his lashes. His lips part and lets out a soft, almost shy exhale. The kind of sound that makes people go dumb.

The guy’s eyes widen and reaches out to hold Sangwon’s hip, fingers twitching like he’s confident. 

“Okay,” Sangwon murmurs, voice so quiet the roar of engines almost swallows it. He leans in closer, close enough that his breath brushes the shell of the guy’s ear. “But if I win… don’t ever talk to me again. Deal?”

The guy’s arm is already wrapped around Sangwon’s waist like it belongs there, palm spread low on his back, thumb sneaking under the half-zipped race suit to stroke his skin. The touch is greedy, entitled, like he’s already picturing Sangwon spread out on the hood of his car, legs open and begging.

And Sangwon lets him.

He lets the guy pull him closer until their chests touch and he feels the frantic thump of his heart that thinks it’s already won. Hot breath fans his temple; the guy’s tongue wets his lower lip like he’s tasting the air between them.

Sangwon’s cheeks are still flushed from the last race, sweat dripping down, lips bitten red. He looks exactly like someone who’s two seconds away from dropping to his knees.

He tilts his chin up, lashes flutter, and the guy actually groans under his breath.

“No touching until you win, alright?” Sangwon murmurs, voice soft and sweet.

“Oh, you’ll be begging for it, pretty boy. Promise.”

“See you at the finish line.” Sangwon says as he steps back slowly, letting the guy’s hand drag all the way across his skin before it’s left clutching nothing but air. 

Some nights, Sangwon plays nice. Kindof. He’ll lift half a tenth early, let the guy stay within spitting distance so he can limp across the line with a shred of pride left.

Most nights, he doesn’t bother.

Most nights, he’s already parked sideways at the finish, engine off, one foot kicked up on the halo, scrolling through his phone while the loser crawls in looking like he just got personally kicked in the dick by god.

The excuses spill out before the helmet's even off:

“Cold tires, man.”

“Boost came in late."

“Sun was in my eyes.”

Or the classic, delivered with a cocky little laugh like it’ll save them: “You just got lucky tonight, pretty boy.”

Sangwon doesn’t even glance up from his screen because, sure, Jan, I got lucky. Not the fact that you couldn’t hold third gear to save your life.

Still, every Friday, he rolls through the gates with Geonwoo and Kangmin, hoping for one good race, for someone to actually make him try. 

Instead he gets the circus.

Rich boys in matte-wrapped cars daddy bought for them, leaning against his fender like they’re doing him a favor by existing.

Sangwon lets them talk. He lets them crowd his space, lets their hands brush his hip while they promise the moon.

Then he smiles, soft and slow, “if I win, never talk to me again.”

You’d think the graveyard of broken egos would scare the rest off but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes them worse.

Because now, it’s not just about getting in Sangwon’s pants.

It’s about being the one who can finally tame the untouchable pretty boy.

The fifth guy finally crawls across the line thirty-four seconds late, an all-time new record for wasting Sangwon’s time. The guy pulls off his helmet, face red and splotchy from embarrassment and humiliation.

“You got lucky, pretty boy,” he spits out, voice cracking. “How about best out of three?”

Sangwon doesn’t even grant him eye contact or continue listening because he’s busy scrolling through his phone.

Fifty-eight new DMs; some with a surprise factor AKA dick pic.

“It was raining last time we raced… race me again?”

“One race and you’ll be calling me daddy, pretty boy”

“Give me one more chance, pretty boy, last time was a fluke”

He’s two seconds from chucking his phone on the road when a cold bottle of water is nudged against his wrist.

Geonwoo grins, “Need a drink to cool down your head?”

“I just want one good race, Geonwoo,” Sangwon sighs. “I want to race against someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

Geonwoo tilts his head toward the shadows near the containers.

Sangwon follows the line of his gaze and forgets the rest of his sentence.

Holy. Fuck.

The guy leaning against a slate-gray Renault is basically his wet dream come to life. The guy is tall, has unfairly broad shoulders, thick thighs and soft, plush lips Sangwon wanted to make out with and… maybe have his hand fisted in his hair while Sangwon dropped to his knees and– shit, his mouth actually goes dry.

“Geonwoo,” he mutters. “I said I wanted to race against someone competent, not look for a one night stand.”

Geonwoo snorts. “He smoked Kangmin last week by eight tenths and made it look boring. If he doesn’t make you sweat, I’ll buy you coffee on Monday.”

Sangwon’s mouth is dry. “Alright, I want an espresso with brown sugar syrup, oat milk, topped with vanilla sweet cream cold foam.”

“...I am not going to remember that.”

Sangwon isn’t listening anymore because the guy turns his head.

Dark eyes flick over and a shiver runs down his spine. He’s being dramatic. He knows he is. But, fuck, the guy is stupidly hot and apparently fast and Sangwon’s brain is short-circuting. He slides his phone into his pocket and heads straight towards the guy. 

“Wanna race?” Sangwon asks.

The guy looks at him.

No smirk, no “pretty boy,” no sleazy line.

Just a calm “sure”.

It lands heavier than any of the other pickup lines Sangwon’s heard all month and his heart does a weird flutter.

He covers it quickly, crossing his arms. “Same bet as everyone else?”

The guy nods once and Sangwon stares at him for a second. Then another. The guy doesn’t… do anything. He just stands there, waiting.

“Alright,” Sangwon says, turning on his heel. “Bring your car.” 

They roll up side by side: Sangwon’s Tatuus next to a slate-gray Renault that looks like it belongs to a real circuit, not this busted port. The flagger’s arm drops.

Sangwon launches clean, second gear pulled strong. The first two corners are muscle memory – he’s driven this road since he was nineteen, knows every pothole, every bump. By the time he rounds the third corner, he feels it.

This guy isn’t playing.

He drives unbelievably clean lines – tidy braking, zero sliding, perfect. Every time Sangwon dives for an inside line, the Renault is already there, then pulling half a car length. 

Mid-race, Sangwon’s laughing inside his helmet. He’s gripping the wheel tight, heart pounding hard because this guy is actually making him try. He floors it down the back straight, boost spiking and the finish line blurs past.

And the Renault is already parked there, engine off, driver leaning calm against the side pod.

Sangwon coasts to a stop, kills the engine, and just sits there, just processing everything because, wow, hot guy isn’t just hot. He also knows how to drive.

He climbs out slowly and pulls the helmet off, shaking sweaty hair out of his eyes.

The guy walks over, calm as ever. “You alright?”

Sangwon huffs out a laugh, “what’s your name?”

“Leo.”

“Alright, deal’s a deal,” Sangwon takes a step closer to him and tilts his chin up. “Where are you taking me?”

Leo blinks once, slowly.

A small smug tugs on his corner of his lips as he rubs the back of his neck, “Uh… there’s this burger joint ten minutes away? I’ve been there a few times, pretty good.”

Sangwon stares.

He’s been offered rooftop bars with thousand dollar bottles, yacht parties where the champagne costs more than most people’s rent, one guy literally offered a private jet to Jeju.

And this guy who just handed him his first loss in two years wants a burger.

“...a burger.” Sangwon repeats, flat.

Leo winces. “Uh, no burger? There’s always this 24 hour ramen cart by the overpass, pretty good cheese ramen–”

“Burgers are fine,” Sangwon cuts in. He steps closer, until Leo’s back bumps into his Renault and Sangwon’s hands lands on either side of his hips, caging him. “But they better be the best burgers I’ve ever had because you just broke my two years winning streak.”

There’s a soft jingle from the bell above the door when they enter. The diner isn’t exactly what Sangwon expects it to be. There’s a drunk salaryman snoring next to a basket of fries, the waitress doesn’t even look up from her phone and the neon sign keeps flickering every few seconds.

Sangwon slides into the booth first, lips pressed into a tight line as Leo takes a seat in front of him.

The waitress appears, bubblegum popping, with the energy that screams hurry up and give me your order so I can go back to my phone. 

Sangwon shrugs at Leo. “Surprise me.”

Leo doesn’t even blink. “Two doubles, one spicy. Kimchi fries extra crispy, sweet potato fries, onion rings, side salad, two milkshakes. One chocolate, one strawberry, and two slices of apple pie.”

The waitress glances at Leo and just says “goddamn” before leaving.

Sangwon stares across the table. “I said surprise me, not kill me.”

“The food here is good, trust me.” Leo grins.

The food arrives in waves with drinks coming in first. Sangwon immediately grabs the strawberry milkshake, biting on the straw.

“Sulking?” Leo asks as he takes a sip of his milkshake.

Sangwon pushes his milkshake to the side and grabs a kimchi fry, pointing it at Leo, “I’m processing trauma.”

“Trauma, huh?”

“You beat me by four tenths on the straight I’ve owned since I was nineteen.” Sangwon says, jabbing the fry in the air for emphasis. “Four. Tenths. Unbelievable.”

Leo’s mouth twitches, “You’re welcome.”

Sangwon kicks him under the table, “Don’t get cocky. You just got lucky on the exit of turn eight.”

Leo raises an eyebrow. “Luck?”

Sangwon freezes with the fry halfway to his mouth. He hates that word. Hates it more than cold tires, more than races during the rain, more than the word “pretty.”

“My bad,” he mutters. “You were good. I’m just… sulky.”

Leo’s laugh is soft, dangerous. “Cute.”

“I hate you,” Sangwon says, and immediately grabs the burger because he doesn’t want to talk to him anymore. The burger is… something. Sauce drips from the side and there’s oil dripping from the melted cheese. He takes a bite and chews.

“Thoughts on the food?” Leo grins.

Sangwon licks the sauce off his bottom lip and glares across the table, “Never mind. All is forgiven.”

Leo’s grin is slow, entirely too pleased. “Told you.”

Sangwon stabs his apple pie with a fork and takes a bite.

“The pie though? There’s a better bakery near campus.” he waves the fork dismissively, smiling despite himself. “But I’m not complaining.”

Leo snorts and nudges his own half-eaten slice across the table. Sangwon doesn’t even pretend to hesitate to steal a bite. Sugar really makes everything a little bit better.

They settle in the kind of peace and quiet that neither of them try to make small talk to fill the silence. Just the slurp of milkshake, crunch of fries and the click of fork against plate from apple pie. Leo’s knee presses against his under the table and stays here.

Sangwon finishes the last bite of apple pie and leans forward.

“Next week,” he says, mouth still full of food. “I’m smoking you. No mercy.” 

Leo grins, nodding. “Looking forward to it, Sangwonnie.”

Oh.

Oh.

Being called Sangwonnie shouldn’t have this much of an effect on him but it does.

The third floor in the library was quiet with the occasional rustle of pages, the quiet cough behind a fist and the soft squeak of highlighters dragging across paper.

The perfect spot for Sangwon to study like the good student he is except fate goes nope, you wish.

“So?” Geonwoo drops his bag into the seat on his left, “how was the date?”

Kangmin slides in on the right a second later, “Yeah, we were fully expecting a ‘jk i ghosted him’ text. Instead, radio silence. You had us worried he was a serial killer or something.” 

Sangwon lets out a sigh, “he’s a good guy.”

Geonwoo leans in, elbows on the table. “Really? Then why’d you leave us on read all weekend, huh? Is his dick that good?”

“All we did was eat burgers and talk about racing.” Sangwon mutters, “Like I said, he’s a good guy.”

“Wow,” Kangmin says, dragging the word out. “Surprisingly tame after all that… tension.”

Sangwon opens his mouth, threats at the tip of his tongue, when he sees a familiar figure.

Leo strolls past in a black long sleeve, sleeves shoved to the elbows, with a black rimmed glasses sit low on his nose. He looks unfairly, stupidly hot.

“Leo?”

Sangwon’s voice cracks and it would’ve been less embarrassing if Kangmin and Geonwoo didn’t immediately snicker. 

Leo stops mid-step, turns, and the smile on his face is wide and so cute it should be illegal on someone like that.

Hot and cute. The absolute killer combo.

“Hey, Sangwonnie.”

Kangmin snickers. “Oooh, nickname basis already?”

Sangwon elbows Kangmin's ribs. Hard. “You go here?” 

Leo nods, amused. “Third year, business management. You?”

“Second year, business admin,” Sangwon answers, mouth suddenly dry. “How the hell have I never seen you before? I swear I would’ve–”

He cuts himself off, mortified.

Geonwoo leans in, voice low enough for only Sangwon to hear. “Would’ve what, exactly?”

Sangwon’s ears grow hot from embarrassment.

Leo just shrugs, “The campus is big?” 

Geonwoo glances at Kangmin with a smile of an angel who definitely isn’t plotting. “Looking for a seat? Feel free to join us. I’m Geonwoo and this is Kangmin.”

“Thanks but I’m heading to my next class now,” Leo shakes his head with a smile. “See you Friday, Sangwonnie.” 

The second he’s out of earshot, Kangmin and Geonwoo both turn to Sangwon with a grin.

“See you Friday, Sangwonnie,” they chorus in the most obnoxious falsetto imaginable.

Sangwon yanks the hoodie strings tight until only his nose is visible. 

“Be quiet.”

Unfortunately, they do not.

The first weekend after the cheeseburger, Sangwon loses by one soul-crushing second.

He’s still vibrating with annoyance when they slide onto plastic stools at the 24-hour ramen stall that Leo had mentioned last week. Sangwon waves the server over with a sweet smile, “One Volcano Hell Challenge for him and make it with extra death sauce.”

Leo just leans against the counter, arms folded, looking infuriatingly calm for someone who’s about to spend the rest of the night on the toilet. He meets the server’s raised eyebrow with a polite nod and a soft, “thank you, ma’am.”

The bowl arrives glowing radioactive red, chili oil pooling on top.

Leo picks up his chopsticks and begins to eat.

Four seconds of silence.

Then his ears turn red. His next breath hitches, turns into a cough. His eyes water instantly but he still takes another bite.

Sangwon watches, arms crossed, trying very, very hard to stay mad.

“Are you okay?” he asks, perfectly smug.

Leo nods, face red, and forces down another mouthful.

Another cough – deeper this time.

“Are you okay?” Sangwon repeats, smirk slipping.

Leo lifts a hand in a weak thumbs-up, eyes glassy, lips swollen and shiny with chili oil. When he rasps out, "I'm okay,” his voice cracks in the middle, turning into a wheeze that sounds like it hurts.

And the pettiness disappears almost instantly. 

Sangwon flags down the server, “One cold soda, please.”

The cold bottle appears in a second. Sangwon cracks it open himself and shoves it into Leo’s hands.

“You’re an idiot,” he mutters when Leo chugs half of it in one go, “Next week, I’m destroying you and no more spicy ramen next time.”

Leo wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he sets the drink back down, “I thought the bet was if I lose, I disappear from your sight forever.”

Sangwon freezes.

The clatter of pots, the slurping from other tables, the tiny radio playing in the corner – everything turns into silence – and, suddenly, the soda is very interesting to look at.

He covers his mouth with his sleeve and mutters into the fabric, barely audible, “...you’re an exception.”

And Leo picks that exact moment to cough, fist pounding on his chest, probably choking from the spices.

Leo recovers just enough to prop an elbow on the table, leaning in until he knocks his knee against Sangwon’s. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Since that night, the bets become a thing – an unspoken, automatic routine. It just happens. Every week. Every Friday night.

The next Friday, Sangwon finally, finally wins.

Seven tenths.

Barely a blink, but it’s enough.

Enough to snap that two week losing streak that’s been eating at his pride.

He slams the steering wheel with both palms and lets out an ecstatic yell into his helmet. His cheeks ache from how wide he’s smiling. He rips the helmet of the second he’s parked and vaults out of the cockpit.

Leo gets out of his car, looking unfairly calm for someone who just lost.

Sangwon makes a beeline to him, grin sharp and victorious.

“Monday morning,” he declares, “I’ve got Mr. Lee’s class at 8am, lecture hall B. I want an iced espresso from Solar cafe. Brown sugar syrup. Oat milk. Vanilla sweet cream cold foam on top. Extra drizzle.”

“Alright, Sangwonnie,” Leo nods.

Sangwon snorts. “You know, if you actually got that down from hearing it once, I’ll be pretty impressed.”

Come morning, Sangwon is half asleep, thumb swiping at his phone, waiting for his morning coffee.

And then someone steps into the lecture hall.

Leo’s eyes scan the room, barely a second of searching before they land directly on Sangwon and the smile that blooms across his face is so bright that it should be illegal at this hour.

“Morning, Sangwonnie.”

He sets the iced coffee in front of Sangwon with a quiet clink and places a neat container with a slice of apple pie beside it.

“I stopped by the cafe you mentioned the other day and figured you could use a little something to survive Mr. Lee’s lecture.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

Shouldn’t mean anything.

And, yet, Sangwon finds himself staring at the coffee and apple pie a little too long, his brain going overdrive. 

The coffee is perfect. It’s his exact order, something he said once, something even Geonwoo and Kangmin don’t remember and the apple pie is from the tiny bakery he mentioned when they first had burgers.

What makes the combination of Leo grabbing both the coffee and pie worse is because he’s been to both places often, he knows exactly what kind of detour it takes to grab both coffee and pastry in one trip.

And if he knows, then Geonwoo and Kangmin definitely know as well.

He doesn’t look at them.

He doesn’t have to.

He can already feel the weight of Geonwoo and Kangmin’s stare across the table.

“Since when did you two become so… close?” Geonwoo grins.

“Just holding up my end of the deal since I lost,” Leo just laughs before rolling his shoulders. “Gonna go back home and sleep. My class starts at 10am.”

And with that, Leo leaves like nothing’s wrong, like Sangwon isn’t about to get bombarded with questions from Kangmin and Geonwoo.

“Wow,” Kangmin says, “So you really made him come all the way here just to drop off coffee at 8am? Damn.”

Geonwoo leans forward, hand inching toward the apple pie. “Are you sure you aren’t dating?”

“We are not dating,” he hisses, pulling the coffee and apple pie closer to him.

“Yet.” Kangmin chirps.

Leo wins the week after that, by three-tenths that feel like a personal insult.

There’s a pout on Sangwon’s face as they head to Leo’s pick for the night: a samgyeopsal joint tucked into a narrow alley, the kind of spot you only find if someone drags you there. Inside, it’s warmed, cramped but pleasant. The old lady behind the counter brightens the moment she sees Leo, her entire face lighting up.

“Oh! Our Leo came back,” she coos, waving them toward a corner booth with a grill that looks new compared to the rest.

She must really like him because she drops off side dishes stacked so high they nearly spill. 

Sangwon flops into the seat, arms crossed, crunching aggressively on pickled radish.

Leo only laughs under his breath as he rolls his sleeves high and starts grilling.

The pork hits the iron with a satisfying sizzle and Leo is, annoyingly, a gentleman. He lifts perfectly caramelized slices and places them on Sangwon’s plates. When he gets distracted talking to the old lady and accidentally burns a few pieces, he quietly places those on his own plates.

Sangwon’s a good person too.

A very good person.

When he notices Leo hasn’t eaten much, he reaches for the lettuce and starts building him a wrap: three thick slices of pork belly, a mountain of sliced raw garlic, two whole dried red chilies, a large dollop of ssamjang and a perilla leaf to wrap the chaos together.

He hands it to Leo with a sweet smile and Leo takes it even while knowing what Sangwon’s done to the wrap. There’s no reaction for the first few bites until Leo coughs slightly.

Sangwon watches, arms crossed, trying to stay mad.

Leo swallows, licks a stray smear of ssamjang off his bottom lip, and groans, “you’re evil.”

“You deserve it,” Sangwon says as he reaches for the tongs to flip the next piece of pork before it burns.

Leo builds the next wrap himself: pork, a little garlic, no chilies, and holds it out.

Sangwon opens his mouth without thinking.

Leo feeds it to him, thumb brushing the corner of Sangwon’s lip when he pulls away.

Sangwon chews with his cheeks full, trying to glare but only succeeding in looking like a very offended hamster. Leo’s smile says he absolutely knows it.

Sangwon retaliates the only way he knows how to: he builds another wrap. This time, it’s one piled even higher with garlic and chilies. 

Leo eats it. He eats each and every single wrap Sangwon makes him – no matter how spicy, no matter how much his eyes water.

By the end of the night, Leo’s lips are swollen and red, his eyes glassy, voice frayed into something low and hoarse because there’s only so much chillies and garlic a man can handle.

Sangwon drags him out of the restaurant and into the nearest convenience store, grabbing a twin popsicle. He rips the wrapper and shoves the slightly bigger half at Leo without asking.

“Next week,” he mutters around the popsicle, “I’m winning.”

“Alright, Sangwonnie.” 

The Friday after that, Sangwon gets his revenge.

He drags Leo to a dingy little theater that smells like old popcorn and carpets that are sticky from old soda. The midnight screening of the new exorcism sequel is already infamous. Half the reviews claim it made them sleep with the lights on while the other half says it’s nothing but cheap jump scares.

Sangwon buys the tickets for both of them with a bright smile and chooses to sit in the middle, dead center, because Sangwon is petty and wants Leo trapped.

The lights dim. The previews roll and, twenty minutes in, the theater is full of people screaming.

Sangwon is… fine.

Totally fine.

He’s not hiding his face in Leo’s shoulder during a scary scene. He just… needs a chin rest.

Then, a warm hand slides over his. His fingers lace through Sangwon's without asking, thumb tracing his knuckles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For a second, he almost yanks away because this is not the plan.

The plan was Leo screaming, Leo being startled.

The plan was definitely not holding hands like they’re on a date. 

Then another jump scare comes and, fuck it, he squeezes Leo’s hands tighter through every shriek and every jumpscare. He doesn’t let go when the ghost stares directly into the camera. He doesn’t let go when the credits finally roll and the lights come back harsh and fluorescent.

They only separate once Leo’s driving Sangwon home because he needs both hands on the wheel to drive. Their hands don’t touch again but Sangwon can still feel the warmth of Leo’s hand on his entire ride home. He sits stiffly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the passing streetlights, and thinks very firmly: 

This wasn’t a date.

They were just honouring bets.

Leo’s just friendly.

That’s all.

So Sangwon definitely shouldn’t be staring hard at the girl in a baby pink crop top clinging to Leo’s arm when he’s glancing around for a table. In his defense, he just happened to stare for… a short moment because she’s laughing way too loud for the library. She’s leaning so far into Leo’s space that her cheek brushes his shoulders every time she points to something in his textbook.

The girl giggles again, loud enough that three separate tables shoot her death glares. “Leo, oh my god, you’re so smart! How do you even understand this stuff?”

Leo’s smile is polite, distant, the same one he gives pushy flag girls but he isn’t moving.

He isn’t telling her to back off.

Sangwon’s fingers tighten around his bag strap. There’s no reason he should be reacting like this.

They’re not dating.

Everything's fine.

The girl can cling for however long she wants right now because, later tonight, Leo is his.

Except jokes on him because when Sangwon rolls into the port, the girl in the baby-pink crop top is there. She’s on tiptoes, saying something that makes her giggle right into Leo’s ear while her hand plays with the zipper of his jacket.

Something snaps in Sangwon’s mind.

He doesn’t remember turning off the engine, doesn’t remember shutting the door. Just – he’s moving, cutting across the lot in long strides to where the two are.

“Hey,” he says with a tight smile. “You wanna race?”

The girl spins, ponytail bouncing. “Oh my god! You’re Sangwon!” She actually squeals, hands clasping in front of her chest. “Yes, yes, yes! Let’s race!”

She turns back to Leo with a grin, “If I win… Leo, take me out on a date, okay?”

Leo’s face does something complicated and he nods once, slow. 

Sangwon’s eye twitches.

He takes a step closer, whispering so quietly that Leo has to lean down to hear, “If I win, I want a kiss from you.”

Leo inhales wrong and chokes on air, ears bright red. “Sangwon–”

But Sangwon is already turning around, pretending like he didn’t just drop a bomb and walks off like everything’s normal.

Behind him, he hears the girl clap her hands. “I’m so excited for our date later, Leo!”

He pops the door open, drops into the driver’s seat and wraps his hands around the wheel.

The girl is cute. Adorable, even.

If she really thinks she’s getting that date tonight, she’s about to learn what happens when you touch… his best friend.

When they race, Sangwon… feels bad. Almost.

She’s lined up beside him in a baby-pink Mygale that still has the new car smell and a giant glittery heart sticker on the rear end.

When the race starts, Sangwon short-shifts second to third before she’s out of the hairpin. By the time she clicks third gear, he’s already braking for turn one, a full straight ahead of her. The gap is obscene, the kind that makes people wince and pity clap.

He crosses the line, does a full, lazy cool-down lap just to flex and she’s still nowhere in sight when he rolls back to the start.

She finally putters in, giggling like she didn’t just get annihilated. She hops out, pony tail bouncing, hands clasped together.

“Woah, you’re insane!” She squeals, spinning to Leo with a pout. “Leo, I lost so badly, you have to give me a pity date now, okay?”

Sangwon doesn’t let Leo open his mouth.

He’s already there, planting himself between them like a wall.

“Pay up.” He says. 

Leo exhales once, steps in close, and… he presses the softest, barely there brush of lips to Sangwon’s cheek.

Sangwon freezes, staring up at him in utter disbelief, heat flooding his face. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” he scowls, voice cracking with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Leo’s lips twitch, “You said a kiss. You didn’t, uh, say where–”

And Sangwon doesn’t want to hear anymore of this bullshit.

He grabs the collar of Leo’s jacket with both fists, yanks him down hard, and crashes their mouths together.

No softness, no mercy. 

Sangwon crashes their mouths together, his tongue sliding hot and demanding against Leo’s in a slick, desperate tangle. Leo tastes so, so sweet that Sangwon wants to devour him. 

Leo makes a startled, wrecked noise in the back of his throat that melts into a short, ragged gasps, hands snapping to Sangwon’s waist. His fingers dig in hard even through the race suit as Leo yanks him closer.

The crowd’s roar fades to white noise, drowned by the wet slide of tongues and the pounding of Sangwon’s heart in his ears.

He pulls back barely an inch, lips brushing against Leo’s as he speaks, “Too much?”

Leo’s answer is immediate. He leans forward to press another sweet, adorable kiss that Sangwon tilts his head to deepen. Sangwon’s tongue curls possessively against his, exploring every corner like he’s claiming territory. Leo backs him up step by step until Sangwon’s back presses against the door of his Renault. 

One hand slides up to cradle the back of his neck, fingers threading through damp hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back. His other hand dips lower and boldly grabs a firm handful of Sangwon’s ass, squeezing hard as he hauls him impossibly closer until there’s no space left, the hard line of Leo’s cock pressing against Sangwon's thigh through their clothes.

They’re still lost in it – deep, messy, tongues tangling with a desperation that borders on obscene, hips rocking in a rhythm that’s pure instinct – when Geonwoo appears, yanking Leo back by the shoulder.

“Guys,” he hisses, “don’t be nasty in public. Get a room.” 

Sangwon stumbles, lips swollen and slick, hair messy, eyes glassy. Leo looks only marginally more put together with his ears and chest flushed red.

Sangwon licks his bottom lip and lets out a soft, satisfied hum. His gaze drifts lazy over the crowd until it locks on the girl in the pink crop top.

She’s frozen, mouth parted, and Sangwon’s lips curve into a smile.

Don’t touch what’s mine.

Apparently, makeouts with full on tongue and blatant ass grabbing isn’t enough of a hint for her to back off because the next time Sangwon spots Leo in the library, the girl is glued to his side again.

Sangwon shakes so hard his highlighter squeaks across the page, completely missing what he was actually supposed to highlight.

Geonwoo doesn’t even look up from his laptop.

“Well,” he says, deadpan, “technically, you two aren’t together.”

Sangwon makes a strangled noise.

Kangmin spins lazily in his chair, grinning. “You literally say, and I quote, ‘We’re just honouring bets, it’s not dating’ every single time we say you two were on a date.”

Sangwon yanks the hoodie strings until the hood cinches tight and only his nose is visible. “Yeah but…”

“But what?” Geonwoo finally glances up.

Sangwon’s voice comes out muffled and sulky from inside the fabric. “I thought the kiss from last night would’ve been, like, a universal sign for her to go away forever.” 

Geonwoo blinks. Slowly.

“Dude. Just ask him out.”

“No!” Sangwon rips the hood back off. “We’re going to have that cute movie moment where we both go ‘wait… we’ve been in love this whole time?’ and then we look back at how stupid we were and laugh about it. It’s going to be cute.”

Kangmin wheezes. “Yeah, it’s also going to take years because every time you lose, you call him an idiot and try to poison him.”

“I did not try to poison him,” Sangwon snaps.

“You made him eat the Volcano Hell Challenge with extra death sauce,” Kangmin deadpans.

“And built him lettuce wraps filled with raw garlic and peppers,” Geonwoo adds.

Sangwon ignores all of this very valid slander.

“Okay, new plan. Next Friday, if I win, I’ll bite his neck. Then, everyone with functioning eyes will finally get the message.”

Geonwoo drops his forehead to the desk with a dramatic thud that echoes through the silent floor.

“You,” he groans, “are so dumb I’m actually speechless.”

Sangwon beams, “Watch me win.”

“Please,” Geonwoo says without lifting his head, “at least, go somewhere private this time.”

“No promises.”

Friday night rolls around and Sangwon and Leo are shoulder to shoulder against the cool flank of the Renault, close enough that every time Leo shifts his weight, their arms brush.

Leo’s talking, low and excited. “Remember the bakery you talked about last time? They partnered up with, like, five other dessert places for a limited all-you-can-eat buffet. Two weeks only. They’re doing fresh crepes made in front of you, strawberry mille-feuille, those tiny fruit tarts you raved about–”

Sangwon lets him ramble for two full minutes, heart doing something stupid and fluttery at how Leo’s whole face lights up talking about cheesecake and yuzu curd. He’s so unfairly cute when he’s passionate about sugar that Sangwon almost feels bad for what he’s about to do.

Almost.

Too bad.

Dessert is officially cancelled.

(Unless Leo wants him as dessert later tonight.)

“Deal,” Sangwon cuts in. “But if I win, I get to bite you. Anywhere I want. Neck, collarbone, whatever.”

Leo lets out a soft, surprised laugh.

“What’s with these bets lately?” he murmurs, gaze dropping to Sangwon’s mouth and staying there. “First, you wanted a kiss. Now, you wanna leave marks.”

And this is it.

This is the moment.

The gears have to be turning in Leo’s head because no one makes bets from ‘loser buys coffee’ to public makeouts to literal biting unless they’re hopelessly in love with you.

And, unfortunately, Leo doesn’t get it because he just looks at Sangwon like he’s waiting for an answer that his brain should come up with.

Sangwon mutters, more to himself, “Just… felt like it.”

And when they compete, Sangwon drives a tad bit recklessly because he wants this so badly. 

Sangwon takes Leo by half a car length, heart hammering so hard it drowns out the engine. The second the car stops, he’s out. He flings his helmet aside and heads straight to Leo instantly. He grabs Leo’s wrist and drags him behind the towering stack of containers, far away from the crowd. It’s not a room but it should be private enough for Geonwoo to not notice them.

Leo’s back hits cold steel with a thud that vibrates through the both of them. Sangwon pins him there, thigh shoved between Leo’s legs, crowding him so there’s no escape.

Leo’s breath hitches, a quiet hiss that turns into a low, wrecked groan the second Sangwon’s mouth presses onto his neck.

Sangwon starts off gentle. He leaves soft, open mouthed kisses trailing up Leo’s throat, lips brushing, tongue flicking out to taste salt. Leo’s head tips back against the container, throat bared.

Then, Sangwon bites.

The first mark is under the jaw. His teeth sink in and Leo’s whole body jerks, a choked sound ripping out of him. Sangwon drags his tongue slowly and wet over the mark, soothing the sting.

The second mark is lower, right over the thick tendon that bobs when Leo swallows hard. Sangwon nips and sucks at the area, tongue pressing flat until blood rushes to the surface in a dark, blooming bruise. Leo’s hips snap forward involuntarily, grinding against Sangwon’s thigh.

Third and fourth bloom along the slope of his shoulder, open-mouthed and merciless. Sangwon bites and sucks hard, teeth scraping along his neck. Every drag of teeth rips a shudder from Leo’s body; every swipe of tongue drags another desperate noise from his throat that shoots straight to Sangwon’s cock.

By the time Sangwon finally pulls back, Leo looks wrecked. He’s breathing in loud, open mouth pants, hands clamped tight on Sangwon’s hips, eyes glassy, lips parted on silent pleas. 

Sangwon pulls back just far enough to admire his work, claiming marks against Leo’s throat, stark under the weak light.

Perfect.

Except it’s not.

Because, two days later, in the campus cafe, she’s there again. She’s in a baby-blue crop top this time, acrylics tapping Leo’s forearm like she owns it. Leo’s hoodie is unzipped, marks on full display – impossible to miss unless you’re legally blind or deliberately dumb.

“Told you,” Geonwoo says, not even trying to hide his laughter.

“Maybe you should’ve just peed on him or something,” Kangmin grins. “Mark your territory.”

“Next bet,” Sangwon declares, voice dangerously calm. “I’m straight up asking him to fuck me.”

Geonwoo chokes on his spit.

“It’s going to be perfect,” he continues, “We’ll do it and then mid orgasm – definitely him, not me – he’ll blurt out, ‘I love you’ like in those dramas and then we’ll laugh and cry a little and then we’ll officially date.”

Geonwoo drops his head into his hands with a groan.

“Or,” he says, “you could just say ‘I love you’ to him first like a normal human being.”

“I could…” Sangwon pauses, “But, no, no, my plan is better.”

The floodlights are warm against Sangwon but they’re nothing compared to the heat crawling under Sangwon’s skin, pooling down low.

He barely slept.

He spent half the night on his back, staring up at the ceiling. One hand was shoved down his sweats, two fingers buried in deep, fucking himself open in slow, filthy strokes while his hips rolled in helpless little thrusts.

Every time he blinked, he saw Leo above him: sweat dripping from his jaw, hands pinning Sangwon’s wrists to the bed, his thick cock dragging slowly and relentlessly through him, stretching him so wide his voice cracked on every breath. He pictured Leo’s throat bobbing when he groaned Sangwon’s name, pictured the exact moment Leo would lose it completely and groan “I love you” while buried to the hilt.

He came the first time with Leo’s name muffled against his sleeve, thighs shaking violently, cock squirting against his stomach.

He didn’t even go soft.

He just kept riding his own fingers, greedy and sloppy, adding a third and moaning brokenly into the pillow, chasing the edge. The second orgasm hit harder, leaving him gasping wrecked little sobs into the pillow. 

When it was over, he laid there panting, stomach sticky, fingers trembling, hole fluttering around nothing.

He’s so fucked.

And not in the way he wants to be.

“Sangwonnie? …earth to Sangwon?”

Sangwon blinks back to the present, the port, the floodlights, Leo standing right there, looking unfairly hot and concerned.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Leo says, voice soft as he reaches out to brush Sangwon’s cheek. “We can race next week if you want.”

No.

Absolutely not.

He’s not waiting another week when he’s this close to either combusting or climbing Leo like a tree.

“I’m good,” he says, too fast.

“Alright…” Leo nods slowly, “If I win tonight, I want you to wear my hoodie all day Monday. The whole twenty-four hours.”

Sangwon snorts. “Cute bet. Deal.”

He already knows he’d do it even without the bet. He’s worn Leo’s hoodie before when Sangwon ‘accidentally’ wore Leo’s hoodie all the way home and decided to keep wearing it to campus.

Then he steps in close and lowers his voice so only Leo can hear.

“If I win, I want you to fuck me.”

Leo’s eyes go wide and there’s a blush that blooms on his face and across his chest. It’s so cute that Sangwon almost forgets how to breathe.

Leo clears his throat. “Sure, deal.”

They line up.

Sangwon drives like it’s life or death because if he doesn’t make it to the finish line first, it’ll literally be life or death. First half of the lap, he’s flawless. Everything’s perfect. Apexes kissed, boost pinned, tires smooth. He’s already tasting victory. Then, turn seven happens. The slate-gray Renault ghosts past on the outside, nose already half a car ahead before Sangwon’s brain even registers the betrayal. 

Two seconds.

Two seconds from getting Leo’s dick in his ass.

He coasts across the finish line, kills the engine, and just sits there vibrating with pure rage.

Leo’s already waiting when he climbs out, leaning against Sangwon’s driver side door like he didn’t personally murder every fantasy Sangwon’s had for the past week.

Sangwon can’t even look up, just glares at the gravel and mutters through clenched teeth.

“I thought you’d go easy on me.”

Leo tosses a purple hoodie straight into his chest. “What’s that?”

“I said, you suck,” he hisses, voice cracking on the last word.

By the time Monday comes around, Sangwon is still sulking.

Sangwon wears the purple hoodie. It’s oversized on Leo so, on him, it’s way too big. Sleeves flop past his finger tips, hem skimming mid-thigh. He gets side-eyed by Geonwoo and Kangmin and he rolls his eyes, pretending like he doesn’t like wearing Leo’s hoodie even though he very much does.

At 11:47p.m, his phone lights up. A video call from Leo.

“Still wearing my hoodie?” Leo asks, voice low and sleepy.

Leo’s face fills the screen. His hair’s a sleepy mess, black-rimmed glasses low on his nose, grey hoodie half-zipped and slipping off one shoulder like he just rolled out of bed. It’s nothing special. Just glasses, a hoodie and that soft smile and Sangwon’s mouth still goes dry like he’s never seen a hot guy before.

“Yeah,” Sangwon nods as he turns the lamp brighter and raises the camera for Leo to see the whole view. 

He’s sprawled on his bed in nothing but the purple hoodie and shorts. The hoodie’s zipped only halfway, collar fallen off one shoulder.

“Oh,” Leo says, voice dropping even lower. “Good boy.”

Sangwon’s pretty sure Leo didn’t mean for him to hear it but he does. His breath hitches, thighs pressed together on instinct as his cock twitches. 

“You okay over there, Sangwonnie?” Leo murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded now.

Sangwon swallows, voice barely steady. “Mhm.”

Leo doesn’t push.

He just leans back and starts talking like he’s not currently ruining Sangwon’s life.

“So next bet,” he says, voice steady and warm, “pasta or back to the grill place? The granny there keeps asking about you. She wants us to taste test some new side dishes before she puts it on the menu.”

Sangwon lets out a soft hum like he’s actually weighing pasta versus pork belly but his mind has already wandered off.

Leo’s voice is doing that low, calm thing that makes him feel… distracted.

He shifts the phone a little higher, angling it carefully so the frame cuts off just below his collarbones. 

Safe.

Totally normal.

Absolutely nothing happened below the neck.

His fingers tap a nervous little rhythm on his bare thigh, sweat already gathering in the bends of his bellows, behind his knees.

He really, really shouldn't but he does.

He yanks his shorts and briefs down in one impatient jerk. His cock springs free, flushed dark and aching. Precome is already dripping from the slit, smearing hot across his stomach. He can feel himself throb from how filthy this is: Leo talking calmly on the other end while Sangwon’s stroking himself to Leo’s voice.

His hand moves on pure instinct.

Fingers wrap around his cock, slick from the mess already there, and he gives one slow stroke from roof to tip. His breathing picks up, flush spreading across his chest as his hips jerk up into his own fist like they have a mind of their own. His hole clenches on nothing, throbbing, wanting more.

He reaches blindly for the lube on the nightstand, keeping his eyes on Leo, and flicks the cap open with a soft click, a sound deafening in the quiet room. His heart slams against his ribs but Leo just keeps talking about the granny’s new gochugaru blend.

Sangwon doesn’t hesitate.

He slicks two fingers and spreads his thighs wide, hips rolling up like he’s begging to be fucked right there on camera. He presses his fingertips against his rim, circling slowly, teasing the entrance until it clenches greedily, trying to suck his fingers in. Every lazy swirl makes his cock twitch, precome dripping down his shaft, pooling hot and sticky against his hole. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters.

Leo pauses.

“What’s that?”

Sangwon’s entire body freezes.

“N-nothing,” he stammers, shaking his head.

Leo hums and just… keeps talking.

Sangwon spreads his legs wider and slips one finger into the hilt in one single push. He furrows his brows as he lets out a shaky breath, trying to keep himself from gasping as his hole clamps down hard. He moves his fingers slowly, drags it along his walls, feeling himself clench again and lets out a shaky exhale.

It’s not enough.

The second finger slips inside, two knuckles deep, stretching him wide with a wet, filthy squelch. Sangwon’s hole flutters, then clamps down hard, sucking them in like it’s starving.

There’s no way Leo misses it.

But the lighting is dim, the angle is perfect, and Leo just keeps talking so Sangwon gets braver.

He rolls his hips in slow, greedy circles, fucking himself deeper on his own fingers with every slick drag. He twists his wrists, curls his fingers against that spot. His cock jerks violently, slapping wetly against his stomach. Precome soaks straight through the hoodie, turning the cotton dark and sticky. Every grind drags the rough, wet fabric over his swollen, sensitive head, making his cock twitch.

He shoves the third finger in, walls flutteringly wildly. It usually takes more but the thought of Leo watching him wreck himself, even if it’s just fantasy, is enough to tip him over the edge.

The room is filled with wet, filthy sounds from his fingers slamming in and out, mattress creaking under his frantic rhythm. His breath comes in soft, wrecked little pants he barely manages to swallow.

He’s so lost in it that he almost misses it.

“Sangwonnie?” 

Leo’s voice cuts through the haze. “Sangwon, are you listening?”

Sangwon’s eyes snap open and he comes hard, squirting hot across his stomach, soaking straight through the purple hoodie in dark streaks. His thighs shake violently, hole clamping tight around his fingers, milking them like it’s trying to pull them in deeper.

He’s still twitching, hips jerking through the aftershocks, fingers curled slow and lazy inside himself when he manages a weak “Yeah?”

Leo’s eyes narrow.

“So,” he says, “which one?”

Sangwon’s brain is mush.

“Uh… pizza?”

“Sangwonnie,” he laughs, “I said pasta or KBBQ.”

Sangwon laughs nervously “Sorry, I wasn’t listening… Besides, who said I’m losing this Friday?”

“That’s true.” Leo laughs softly. “It’s late. Go sleep, Sangwonnie. Good night.”

“Good night,” Sangwon whispers, still tingling everywhere.

The call ends and the screen goes dark.

Sangwon lies there in the sudden silence. 

Then reality hits.

He needs to go wash the hoodie right now. 

No way is he returning Leo’s hoodie with his come soaked into it like some kind of pervert. He wants to mark Leo but not like that.

That’s nasty.

Friday night, the port is packed. Floodlights blazing, bass thumping from someone’s open trunk. Sangwon is waiting for their turn on the track, fingers drumming frantically along his bicep.

“Tonight,” he declares, voice sharp and vibrating with days of pent-up want, "I'm winning. And when I do, you’re fucking me.”

Leo leans against his car with a smile. “Same bet twice in a row? Don’t wanna change it up?”

Sangwon’s ears burn. “Shut up.”

Leo laughs, reaching out to ruffle Sangwon’s hair. “I was gonna take you for pizza since that’s what you mumbled on Monday but I changed my mind.”

Sangwon blinks, not liking the flicker in Leo’s eyes.

“If I win,” Leo murmurs, “I want to finger you.”

Sangwon freezes.

“Because of the video call.” Leo continues, softly.

Sangwon’s face goes red.

He knew it.

He fucking knew Leo heard every wet sound, every choked moan when Sangwon came all over himself. He heard everything.

Sangwon’s voice comes out strangled, “I hope you lose.”

“Better do your best then, Sangwonnie.”

And the race is war.

Sangwon launches off and for the first two laps, he’s perfect. He’s flying across the road, tasting victory, tasting Leo finally bending him over and fucking him stupid.

Except the Renault zips past on the inside of turn nine, nose already pulling away before Sangwon can scowl.

He’s 0.2 seconds too slow.

He was so close to finally getting railed into next week.

Now, he’s getting fingered.

Not that he doesn’t want Leo’s finger – he wants them bad – but Leo didn’t say anything about letting him come. And Leo would absolutely edge him until he’s begging. Probably payback for the volcano ramen and for every single time Sangwon’s been a brat.

“God fucking damn it.”

He climbs out, helmet dangling, and heads straight to Leo to drag him back to his car. There’s a little bottle of lube he stashed into the passenger door pocket this morning because he was so sure he was winning tonight.

“Sangwon,” Leo hisses behind him, glancing over his shoulder. “We’re in public.”

“It’s one a.m and everyone’s watching the race,” Sangwon snaps as he crawls across the backseat, already shoving his jeans and briefs all the way down. “Get in the car.”

Leo slides in after him and leaves the passenger door cracked just enough for fresh air.

Sangwon spreads his legs as wide as the cramped space allows, chest heaving with sulky, desperate breaths. His cock throbs flushed and leaking, twitching up every time gravel crunches outside like someone might walk past and see him spread open.

Leo doesn’t hesitate.

He pours the lube over his fingers and drags two slick fingers down Sangwon’s ass, tracing slow circles around his hole that makes Sangwon’s hips jerk forward, chasing contact that isn’t quite there yet.

When Leo finally presses one finger inside, Sangwon’s breath hitches. His cock jerks hard against his stomach, precome leaking down his shaft.

“Another,” Sangwon rasps, fingers twisting into Leo’s sleeve. “Please, Leo–”

And Leo is either a “gentleman” who wants to let him adjust or he’s suddenly deaf because he keeps sliding one finger in and out in slow, lazy strokes. Out until only the tip catches on Sangwon’s rim, then back in, deep and lazy, brushing that spot once every few strokes just to watch Sangwon’s hips shift because Leo was so close to that spot.

Sangwon’s head thumps back against, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“One more, hyung,” he whimpers, thighs falling open wider, shameless. “I need it, please–”

“Are you sure you can take it?” Leo murmurs.

“I will literally bite you right now,” Sangwon scowls, tears of frustration pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“Cute,” Leo murmurs as he pulls his finger out entirely, letting Sangwon feel the sudden emptiness, eyes focused on the way his hole clenches on nothing.

“You–”

And Leo slides two thick fingers back into the hilt one slick push.

His back arches off the seat, mouth falling open on a choked moan he barely manages to swallow in time. His cock jerks hard from the suddenness. Lube squelches obscenely around Leo’s knuckles, dripping down Sangwon’s crack and soaking the leather beneath his ass. Leo pushes his fingers all the way in, wrists pressed flush to Sangwon’s skin and just stays there, letting him adjust.

His fingers move slowly, searching patiently. When the pads of his fingers finally brush over that spot, Sangwon’s whole body jerks. Leo hums and starts circling along it, barely any pressure, but it’s merciless. Sangwon rolls his hips, chasing the touch. His cock leaks steadily against his stomach, smearing wet across his skin with every helpless buck. 

Then, through the cracked door, Sangwon hears snippets of a conversation a few cars away.

“Nah, man, he lost because he braked too early into turn–”  

Sangwon’s eyes open immediately.

“Wait, there’s people–”

Leo doesn’t even pause.

Instead, he slides his fingers all the way inside and drags out slow enough to make Sangwon feel every ridge, then sliding back in.

The sudden shift from gentle to quick, combined with the voices getting louder outside, makes his mind jumbled and confused. His brows furrow together, jaw slack. A thin line of drool slips from the corner of his lips, slides hot over his chin, and drips off his jaw onto his own chest. 

He can’t even try to be quiet anymore. High, broken whimpers spill out with every thrust, loud and shameless like he wants the entire port to listen.

“They’re gonna hear,” he sobs, the words slurred and frantic. His hips betray him completely, tilting up greedily, thighs falling wider, chasing the fingers wrecking him open. “Hyung, please, they’re so close–”

Leo leans in, lips brushing the shell of Sangwon’s ear, voice infuriatingly soft. “Should I stop, Sangwonnie?”

Sangwon shakes his head wildly.

“No, no, want another finger, hyung,” He looks up at Leo through wet lashes, tears prickling at his eyes. “More. Need more, please–”

Leo swallows hard, throat bobbing, as he pulls his hand back just far enough to gather the lube and pre-come dripping down Sangwon’s crack and lines up his third finger. There’s a pause for half a heartbeat, just a second long enough for Sangwon to feel the pressure against his rim and then he pushes.

And, fuck, he feels so stuffed, so full, undeniably Leo’s.

The third finger is all the way in now, Leo’s knuckles pressed flush to his rim. Sangwon can feel everything: the thick drag of three fingers spreading him open, the lube leaking out around them, the pulse of his hole fluttering around the intrusion. His hole clenches greedily, trying to pull Leo deeper.

A wrecked moan escapes before he can stop it, loud enough that the voices outside falter mid-sentence.

Leo doesn’t give him a second to breathe.

He twists his wrist slowly, spreading all three fingers wide inside. He drags his fingers almost all the way out, slow, cruel, letting Sangwon feel every ridge and knuckle pop free, before sliding them back in. Again. And again. And again. The rhythm is merciless, fast and deep.

“Gonna come, gonna come–” Sangwon whimpers in a voice that doesn’t even sound like him anymore.

His hips jerk forward in tiny, frantic spasms, trying to fuck himself deeper and then Leo pulls back slightly.

Three fingers retreat until only the very tips remain inside. The sudden denial is excruciating. His hole flutters desperately around Leo’s fingertips, trying to suck them in deeper. 

“I knew it,” he hisses, voice hoarse and shaking as he tries to glare through the tears. “I knew you’d pull this stunt.”

And Leo’s smile is not adorable when he’s this close to coming.

Sangwon’s gaze drops, defeated, and he sees it.

Leo’s cock is straining against the front of his pants – thick, obvious, and a wet patch blooming at the tip where the precome has already soaked through. He’s leaking, aching, clearly wants to shove Sangwon’s legs wider and bury himself all the way in.

But he doesn’t.

He just keeps those three fingers maddeningly still, barely inside, watching Sangwon unravel.

“This is so unfair,” Sangwon mutters, hips still twitching in tiny, pathetic circles, trying to fuck himself back onto Leo’s hands. Fresh tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “You’re hard too, just put it in, please–”

Leo leans in until their forehead almost touches, breath warm against Sangwon’s lips.

"Should've won the race, Sangwonnie.”

Then, he thrusts all three fingers once – just enough to make Sangwon sob – then pulls them out completely.

The emptiness is brutal. Sangwon’s hole flutters, clenching around nothing, slick and open and aching and Leo has the audacity to bring his glistening fingers to his mouth, eyes locked on Sangwon’s the entire time, and licks them clean. 

Sangwon watches, furious and impossibly turned on.

“Next week," he mutters through clenched teeth. “I swear I will win.”

Leo wipes his hand on his thigh. “Alright, Sangwonnie.”

“Don’t,” Sangwon snaps, yanking his jacket down with trembling fingers to cover the mess on his stomach. “Don’t you dare ‘alright, Sangwonnie’ me right now, you absolute menace.”

Leo lets out a soft laugh that makes his heart flutter. He leans in slowly until his breath ghosts across Sangwon’s lips. Sangwon can almost feel the almost-kiss, Leo’s lips a millimeter from his lips, close enough that his eyes flutter shut on pure instinct.

And then Leo makes the quietest sound.

“Oh.”

Just that.

A soft “oh” like he’s only just remembered the rules.

Sangwon wants to scream. He wants to grab Leo by the shoulders and lean in to steal that kiss he deserves but he can’t because bet was fingering.

Just fingering.

And that’s why he stopped.

Leo leaning in about to kiss him is worse than getting blue balled.

“You’re evil,” he rasps. “An actual demon. Get out.”

Next Friday can’t come soon enough.

Sangwon is going to win.

He is going to get fucked, get kissed, get everything.

The next four Fridays are psychological warfare.

Sangwon loses every single time, by margins that get worse each week: 

Week 1: 0.4 seconds

Week 2: 0.7 seconds

Week 3: 0.9 seconds 

Week 4: 1.7 seconds. 

After that loss, Sangwon just unbuckles, climbs out of the Tatuus and walks straight to the Genesis he drove to the port and takes a seat. He rests his forehead against the wheel and thumps it until the horn lets out a long, miserable honk

He sits there, breathing hard, replaying the lap. Perfect entry, perfect turns, perfect everything, and still Leo was faster. It doesn’t make sense. He’s not suddenly terrible; he proved that an hour ago when he smoked some cocky loser who bet the classic “if I win, you owe me a night” routine. 

So the only explanation is that Leo has decided to make it his life goal to within the one thing Sangwon is openly begging for.

And Leo is evil.

Leo’s eaten him out on the hood of his Genesis until Sangwon’s knees buckled and he slid down the fender, fingers tugging at Leo’s hair while Leo just hummed and licked him clean like it was dessert.

Leo’s dropped to his knees in the stairwell C, swallowed Sangwon to the base and sucked him dry and then spent the next hour patiently teaching him because he’d notice Sangwon staring blankly at the same paragraph for half an hour. 

Leo’s jerked him off while Sangwon was on speaker with Geonwoo until he came to which he had to buy Geonwoo bubble tea for a week as an apology for traumatizing him.

Leo has done everything.

Everything except the one thing Sangwon is literally begging for every Friday night. 

Leo probably thinks this is some sort of game called “How to Make Sangwon Lose His Mind,” and he’s winning every single category from sexual frustration to emotional devastation, giving Sangwon a mental breakdown.

Sangwon isn’t just dying from lack of dick (though the lack of dick is genuinely killing him), he’s dying for the rest of him.

He wants to hold Leo’s hand in public, fingers laced like normal, like it’s allowed, instead of dropping it the second someone they know appears even though it’s always Sangwon who lets go first but only because he’s shy.

He wants to go on dates and eat burgers, trade milkshakes, and shove lettuce wraps into Leo’s mouth just to watch him scrunch his nose while still finishing every bite.

He wants Leo to fuck him until he forgets his own name and the only word left in his head is his name.

Instead, he gets everything but his dick for an entire month by a guy whose life mission is to make him so sexually frustrated that it takes him to an early grave.

Sangwon knows he should say it first but if Leo’s answer is anything less than yes, Sangwon will get into his car, drive to the closest body of water and drive straight into it. He will drown in either his own tears or the water, whichever claims him first.

So he came up with two foolproof plans for the night he finally wins the race:

Plan A – get railed into the mattress so hard and Leo blurts out “I love you” mid-orgasm.

Or

Plan B – be so mind-blowingly good in bed that Leo falls in love with his ass and then, by extension, to the rest of him.

Both plans are dead.

Leo has run them over with his Renault, backed up, and then run them over again, lap after lap, week after week.

Which leaves Plan C poking at the edge of Sangwon’s sanity: deliberately lose to some random guy who’s been flirting with him, let himself get fucked, and see if Leo finally gets jealous enough to snap.

But Sangwon is not that desperate.

Not yet.

The next Friday, Sangwon leans against the door of Leo’s Renault, swiping through his messages super casually.

“This guy’s been asking me to race him… he wants to show me a good time or something.”

Leo hums, not looking up. “Uh huh.”

Sangwon sneaks a glance. He swears he sees Leo’s jaw is clenched like he’s pretending not to care and then… he drop kicks plan C straight into the dumpster because Sangwon would rather be blueballed by Leo for an entire year than let some loser win.

His dignity and pride would never let him go that low.

“If I win tonight,” he says, voice quieter now. “I want you to fuck me.”

Leo doesn’t even look up at him when he nods because he’s heard Sangwon request this for 6 weeks straight and counting.

“Alright,” Leo nods, “If I win… I want you to fuck yourself against my cock.” 

Sangwon blinks. Once. Twice.

“Against?” 

“Against.” Leo confirms. “You can rub against me but my dick stays outside.” 

Sangwon stares, mouth open, brain buffering.

“Dude,” he finally croaks, “Just say you want to fuck me like a normal person.”

Leo shrugs, casual as ever, and the race is brutal.

For the first three laps, Sangwon was reckless but perfect. 

He nails every apex, every downshift smooth, every late break measured to the millimeter. This is the one of his cleanest runs in weeks.

He can already taste victory.

He can already feel Leo’s hands spreading him open.

Then the final lap happens.

Leo’s been glued to his tail all race and, for a split second, Sangwon thinks maybe Leo’s going to be nice this time. 

Sangwon commits to the outside line. He turns… and Leo moves. The Renault slips inside, nose diving in, rear tires biting hard as the car rotates and rockets out of the corner. By the time they hit the straight, Leo simply leaves.

Sangwon watches the gap stretch in real time because his foot eases off the throttle from disbelief. The gap goes from one car length to two, three and four. He crosses the line in utter silence – just acknowledging the fact he’s not getting fucked tonight.

Again.

The drive back is twenty seven minutes of torture.

Neither of them speak. The only sounds are the low engine rumble, the click of the signal when Leo changes lane, and the slow steady inhale-exhale of Sangwon’s breathing because he is fine.

Just fine.

The second the apartment door slams shut behind them, Sangwon finally speaks.

“You are the worst,” Sangwon scowls as he’s tugging at the zipper on his jacket. The heavy fabric hits the floor with a soft thud. He kicks off his shoes, shoves pants and boxers down in one motion, stumbling into the bedroom as they tangle at his ankles.

“Sangwonnie…” Leo starts.

Sangwon doesn’t say anything. He answers by pushing both hands into Leo’s chest. Leo lets himself fall, back hitting the mattress with a soft bounce.

He doesn’t wait.

Sangwon drops to his knees and hooks his finger into the waistband of Leo’s slacks and briefs, yanking down everything in one single motion. The fabric catches on Leo’s hips for a second before sliding free and Leo’s cock slaps heavy against his stomach with a wet sound.

The head is flushed dark, swollen and glossy, with a bead of precome that wells from the slit. It swells, trembles, then finally spills over, sliding down his length. The drop traces every thick vein, clings for a heartbeat, then drips off the underside.

Sangwon’s mouth actually waters.

His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip like it’s already tasting salt and skin. He wants to lean forward and kiss the tip. He wants to lick his cock clean and let the precome coat his tongue before he sinks down, taking Leo all the way down his throat until his eyes water.

He’s felt Leo hard through fabric before, but seeing it now makes his hole clench so violently it hurts. A needy ache blooms low in his belly and his own cock jerks with desire.

He wants to suck it so badly his jaw actually aches for it.

But the bet was against, not inside, not in his mouth, not down his throat.

He forces himself upright on shaky knees, snatches the lube on the nightstand and flicks it open. He tips the bottle and squeezes hard, lube gushing over three fingers. He keeps going until it runs down his knuckles, drips down his wrists that land directly onto Leo’s cock.

“Fuck…” Leo exhales through his nose, cock jerking violently. 

“To make it easier to slide against,” he mutters but the words are a lie even to his own ears. His hand is already wrapped around Leo’s slick, throbbing length that’s too tight, too hungry. He strokes slowly from root to tip, his palm gliding over every ridge and vein. His thumb swirls over the head, pressing into the silt just enough to smear the mixture of lube and pre-come back down the shaft, coating the entire length in a warm, messy sheen that dips onto Leo’s stomach.

Sangwon shifts forward, knees spreading wide over Leo’s hips. He reaches behind himself with the same three dripping fingers.

One slick finger circles his rim once, tracing the sensitive entrance until his hole clenches greedily on nothing. Then he pushes inside. A shaky exhale spills from his lips, eyebrows furrowing deep.

The second finger joins immediately, scissoring roughly, twisting and spreading, spreading him open with impatiently, needy thrusts of his own hand. His hips rock back into the intrusion like he’s already fucking himself bigger, something thicker, something that isn’t his own fingers – something like the cock twitching beneath him.

Leo watches, chest heaving, cock twitching hard every time Sangwon lets out a whimper. His hands grip the sheets like he’s physically fighting not to grab Sangwon’s hips and take over, to flip him and end the torment for both of them.

Good.

Suffer.

Sangwon hopes Leo’s balls aches as much as he does.

He slides in the third finger alongside the first two with a soft groan. The stretch makes his thighs tremble. His cock, flushed dark, leaking precome that lands hot and wet across Leo’s stomach and chest.

“I don’t think you need to finger yourself, Sangwonnie,” Leo murmurs, eyes glued to Sangwon’s face.

“Just in case,” Sangwon mutters as he rocks harder against his fingers.

Because accidents can happen.

His hips could “slip” at the perfect angle and Leo’s cock might “happen” to slide in all the way inside him and it’ll be good he already stretched himself open.

He finally pulls his fingers free with a wet sound and he shifts forward, knees sliding wider, and lowers himself to rub against Leo’s.

He starts to move.

He slowly rolls his hips at first, dragging his slick cock against Leo’s from root to tip, letting the swollen head nudge against his balls, then back again. Every slide makes Leo’s breath hitch, makes his cock throb harder, makes another leak of precome spill out to ease the slide.

Sangwon tries it once. 

He moves down slow on the downstroke, tilting just enough so the tip of Leo’s cock drags down and kisses his stretched rim. He feels the blunt pressure right against his open hole, feels the promise of it, the way Leo’s cock twitches like it wants to thrust upwards and bury itself inside.

Leo’s hand snaps to his hips, fingers digging hard enough to bruise.

“Against,” Leo reminds, voice strained low. His cock jerks violently between them, a thick pulse of precome spilling out and smearing against Sangwon’s hole.

Sangwon’s thighs are trembling uncontrollably now, sweat beading at his temples. Tears of frustration well at the corner of his eyes and spill over, streaking down flushed cheeks. He’s so open, so ready, so empty it hurts, and Leo is right there, thick and leaking and obviously desperate too.

He leans forward, forehead dropping helplessly to Leo’s shoulder, hiding the tears against warm skin and grinds back faster, frantic now.

Accidents are going to happen.

They have to.

Because if they don’t, Sangwon is going to lose his mind completely. 

His hips roll in desperate circles, thighs trembling hard. Every drag of Leo’s cock between his cheeks is slick. The swollen head nudges his rip and he can feel the tip going in for a second before it slides away again. And again. And again

It’s too much and not enough and Sangwon is crying openly now, hot tears spilling down flushed cheeks, dripping off his chin. He whines high and broken, the sound escaping his lips raw and helpless.

Leo’s pre-come and lube has turned the whole space between them a wet mess. It’s so slippery it makes no sense that he’s still empty.

Sangwon can’t move anymore, can’t even pretend to “accidentally” slip because he comes hard. His cock jerks once then squirts hot across Leo’s stomach and chest. His whole body seizes, back arching, hole clenching desperately on nothing, aching and so painfully empty.

"Oh, fuck–” 

Leo’s hips snap up once, twice, uncontrolled, and then he’s coming. His cock jerks between Sangwon’s cheeks, pulsing again and again, spraying on Sangwon’s lower back and over his stretched rim.

Sangwon collapses forward, chest heaving, face buried in the sweaty curve of Leo’s neck. He stays there for a few seconds, trembling through the aftershocks, feeling Leo’s heart hammer against his own.

Then, slowly, he lifts one shaking hand and punches Leo weakly in the chest.

“Okay,” he rasps. “Either you have insane self-control or you don’t actually want to fuck me. Which is it?”

“I want to," Leo murmurs, sliding a hand through Sangwon's sweaty hair. "I really want to fuck you but..." 

Sangwon waits.

Leo doesn’t continue.

The silence stretches, suddenly unbearable, and he can’t take it.

He pushes up on shaky, trembling arms and straddles Leo properly now. He frowns, eyes narrowed, searching Leo’s face for the rest of his sentence.

“If I do… you get what you want and then what? You get bored. You'd move on to the next guy who can beat you.” 

Sangwon blinks. Then, he grabs Leo’s face and squishes his cheeks hard, forcing Leo’s lips into a ridiculous pout.

“You are so, so cute,” he hisses. “And so, so incredibly dumb.”

Leo winces, eyes wide, but doesn’t pull away.

Sangwon leans in until their foreheads touch.

“I like you, you idiot.” He says, voice trembling, “You. Only you. I wear your hoodie to class. I want to spend more time with you beside for bets. I want to shove that bowl of fiery noodles in your mouth again because you made me suffer for over a month. I wanted you to fuck me because I hoped you’d say I love you after coming and then we’d have this super cute moment because I was too shy to say it first.”

His voice drops to a soft whisper.

“I’m in love with you, you absolute moron.”

The room goes dead quiet except for the sound of their breathing.

Leo stares up at him, eyes wide, lips parted like the words short-circuited his brain. A soft, stunned “oh” slips out of him.

Sangwon snorts and drags the back of his hand against his face to wipe away the tears, “Yeah. Oh.”

Then, dead serious:

“Can I put it in now?”

There’s a soft, adorable smile that tugs on Leo’s lips, the kind that makes Sangwon’s heart flutter. The answer’s probably yes so he shifts his hips, already lining up, when Leo murmurs,

“Maybe after you win.”

Sangwon freezes mid-motion, thighs trembling around Leo’s hips, eyes wide.

“Oh… my god.” he hisses, voice climbing an octave from frustration. “I hate you, I hate you so much right now.”

Leo grins, eyes sparkling. “Love you too, Sangwonnie.”

He slides his hand to the back of Sangwon’s neck and tugs him.

Sangwon crashes into the kiss, tongue shoving in like he can win by sheer force. Leo just laughs into his mouth, soft and fond, letting Sangwon bite his bottom lip hard enough to bruise.

When they finally part, Sangwon pants against Leo’s mouth. “Next Friday, I’m winning.”

“Yeah?” Leo’s voice is wrecked, amused.

“Yeah, and when I do,” he whispers. “I’m going to ride you until you forget your own name.”

Leo’s smile grows bigger, “Promise?”

Sangwon kisses him again, hard, sealing it.

Next Friday, the port is going to see the fastest lap of his life.