Mild smut in the second half of the chapter

******

As he announced, Mingi left the next day. He offered Wooyoung to leave together, but Wooyoung muttered he would stick around for longer because of the gun. Mingi shrugged.

"Jongho knows what he's doing and Seonghwa is a genius AI. If anyone gets you a gun for life, it's them. Make do on that," he grinned before he got his cart rolling and took off to do his business. Wooyoung was left with a giddy Jongho who wouldn't stop babbling about his awe with Wooyoung's abilities. He made progress on the car and the gun twice as fast, winged by the reassurance of Wooyoung's presence.

On the other hand, however, he expected Wooyoung to tell San. When he first picked up on Wooyoung's reluctance to do so, he grinned a shit-eating smirk.

"Why not and not the why? He's your team partner now. You and he fight well. We have dynamic!" He claimed, brandishing a wrench.

Wooyoung perched on top of the table, in the corner where his thighs wouldn't destroy anything of relevance.

"He will find out as we leave, no? What use is there to tell him now?"

Jongho rolled his eyes.

"Is it such a bother? You make it sound engaging."

Wooyoung hastened to slip from the desk.

"You know what? I'll talk to him. You stay put and don't get involved," he assured with exaggerated kindness, beckoning Jongho to rest his leg when he turned.

"Should I tell hi-" His grin meant nothing good.

"No need!" Wooyoung yelled, halfway down the corridor. "I got it!"

He didn't have it because the next moment; he ran into San's chest, too occupied with Jongho's giggling to watch his surroundings. Feeling as if hit by a brick wall, Wooyoung staggered back. When a hand found his waist to stabilize him, Wooyoung slapped at it with a hiss.

"Trying to run new corridors into these walls? Where to so hastily?" San asked, nonchalant as he pulled back. He looked unfairly handsome again, the three metal buttons on his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up as he got more comfortable with their company. Did they know he was part foul? The more Wooyoung thought about it now, the eerier it was. He should ask Seonghwa if San was truly free of risk and wouldn't try to eat them later on.

For now, however, he had to huff at this ridiculously attractively built half-monster.

"I was looking for you," Wooyoung coolly told the wall to his left. Better he did it than Jongho.

San leaned to the side to catch his gaze, but Wooyoung snapped his head further away. This was embarrassing enough without looking at those chiseled features that had hovered so close and robbed Wooyoung of his sleep last night.

"Oh? I can't wait to hear this," San chuckled, and already, Wooyoung didn't want to tell him. He didn't deserve to know until the last minute. But Jongho was right there and he would make it worse if Wooyoung didn't man up.

He sighed with the weight of his responsibilities.

"I'm coming along on Mission Bluebird."

"Oh?" San made, and his cheek pulled into a crooked smile. "What caused the change of opinion?"

Perhaps it was even more infuriating that he was not surprised than had he been shocked, offended, insulted.

Wooyoung picked at his nails.

"Seonghwa makes a good point and I want to see him succeed. Or at least, I want to look at the future with a positive outlook."

"Aha," San made. And definitely, this had nothing to do with him.

"Well, congratulations then. I hope you fix your problem of being unable to look at me because I feel you will spend a regrettable amount of time around me from now on," San chuckled.

Just to prove him wrong, Wooyoung snapped his head around.

"Listen here, you-" He began, ready for the scolding of his life, but his mouth snapped shut because San used that very moment to stick his hand under his shirt to adjust his bandages. The dirt green fabric rode up to expose the lean lines of his abdomen, the muscles only partly covered by the bandages.

Wooyoung gulped when his gaze trailed lower, over the pants that hung loosely around San's narrow waist and thus gave a view of his V running down between his legs.

Suddenly, Wooyoung's throat was parched, and he never craved water so badly. He snapped his head around fast enough that his spine cracked and elicited another giggle from San.

"Thanks for proving my point. Remember you have a boyfriend, though. I never met him, but I would hate to tarnish his goodwill. Dead or alive."

Wooyoung's shame and rage bubbled over. When he crowded into San's space, the other raider lifted his chin, using the few inches he had on Wooyoung to taunt him.

"Leave him out of this," Wooyoung hissed, unafraid as he stared into San's dark eye. His senses spun with the information of San's broad shoulders dwarfing him, his scent, his lax posture and his perpetual smirk. As if he knew Wooyoung was crumbling. As if he just waited to catch him.

And that V was so close, just barely hidden by San's clothes. So tempting.

Wooyoung hated how weak he was to it, how hot his insides felt at the awareness of San's body alone. He was just some guy, for fuck's sake, and he was half rotten.

Probably more than half. It must have reached his brain, too.

"I'm just putting out a friendly reminder," San grinned, lifting his empty hands as if he were innocent about their closeness. "You wouldn't want to go against your own word towards him because we will go on a mission together." The twinkle of his eye was so overly sugary that Wooyoung sneered. He forced himself to step away and turned his nose skyward.

"Either way. I am your teammate now, so you better act like it. Now get out of my way so I can sleep off the migraine I get whenever I see you."

San stepped aside so Wooyoung could waltz through. His teasing voice called after him.

"Sure, sweetheart, have a good sleep."

Wooyoung's heart flipped, so he seized it and crammed it into a prison cell. Deserved.

He slammed his door when he made it into his room and hoped it was loud enough that Jongho knew not to team up with the enemy. Betrayed, Wooyoung fell onto his bed and stared down at his middle. Ever so merry and dumb in its greeting, his cock strained against his pants.

"Traitor," Wooyoung called it.

There was rarely time to care for something so mundane. The few times Wooyoung could afford to get hard, because Yunho's kisses felt so good or his words enticed a spark, were spent in hushed motions inside his pants as soon as his lover went to sleep. Any other time was pure adrenaline and a bother at inconvenient times.

As much as Wooyoung's body craved the safety of this place, it had no business getting hard over someone like San.

But how often would Wooyoung have the time and place? He might as well release some of that pent-up tension now in the privacy of this room.

Bothered, he locked his door and shoved his pants to his knees. His hand wrapped around the throb of his hot flesh and he hissed with sensitivity.

Yunho. He would think of Yunho.

As he tugged on his tip and precum leaked over his fingers, Wooyoung closed his eyes. He remembered the shape of Yunho's lips, their gentle drag against his. Yunho had big hands, long fingers. They would feel so different touching him, but so good.

Wooyoung bit his lip to stifle a groan, hips canting to thrust along with the twists of his wrist. Would he like Yunho sucking him off more? Or would he like to imagine even a step further, a perfect scenario of them alone in a safe house when they could undress fully without needing to fear running the next moment? Would Wooyoung writhe on Yunho's cock, splitting him open? Would he cry as he was fucked into a wall until he knew nothing but Yunho's name on his lips?

His imagination kept him going, had him twitching in his fist, but it wasn't quite enough. Soon, Wooyoung noticed how incredibly difficult it was to think of Yunho when every recent thought about him was plagued by worry and dread. How could he concentrate on the lips of a man he betrayed?

So, naturally, his unattended mind returned to San and his cocky smirks, that repelling yet attractive body. Wooyoung would blame his stupidity on the blood flow that gathered below. He wasn't at fault.

What would San do if he got his hands on Wooyoung? If he marched in here right now? Would he offer himself and take responsibility? It was only fair he let Wooyoung fuck his throat after getting him going with their spat in the corridor.

But no, he wouldn't. He would mock Wooyoung with those belittling eyes, would remind him to think about Yunho.

Wooyoung throbbed in his fist, and he buried his head in his pillow.

"Fuck," he panted, grip getting tighter, moving faster as he fueled the heat in his body, both of lust and rage. He was angry enough that it felt good.

Dark hair hung into his eyes as he pinched them shut, imagined San in the room with him.

"Unable to think of him?" He would accuse, gazing at him in that cocky way that would always get him his will. He would lean against the door frame in nonchalance, showcasing his freakish body for Wooyoung to ogle. As usual, he would snicker under his bandages without ever letting Wooyoung see what his smile looked like, driving him insane.

"Pathetic," he would call Wooyoung, definitely the type to get mean and nasty in bed. How long would he watch as Wooyoung desperately wound himself, unable to come under that stare? When would he scoff and come over to knock his hand away?

But San wouldn't suck him off, thinking too highly of himself. His grip would be punitive, like so. He would pin Wooyoung down with the weight of his muscles, and he would laugh at how delicate Wooyoung's important bits were, not marred by scars or illness.

Wooyoung panted into his free wrist, leaving a wet spot as he struggled for breath. He matched his movements to his imagination and whimpered under the intensity of his imaginary San.

Would he go further? Would he tease his fingers against Wooyoung's rim, contemplating if it was worthy of taking his monster dick? Or would he torment Wooyoung with the imagination without ever giving him what he wanted?

Shit, San's cock was probably covered in disgusting rashes and leftover scars from the fungus spreading.

Why did Wooyoung want to see it so badly?

Another yelp stifled in his fist at a particularly good jerk. His hips canted into his hand, legs spread for the fingers that explored below. He imagined them to be covered by bandages, as he wasn't even worth being touched by San's sickly skin.

"Look at you acting like a whore for me. Are you desperate to get anything you can out here? Does even my rotten thing do it for you?"

Wooyoung would definitely never answer him the way he wanted. He would twist and gasp, a victim to those punitive fingers, but he would never agree.

The heat took over to pool between his thighs and Wooyoung seized as he let go of his strain. His cum splattered over his abdomen, thick and white since it had been so long. Despite the time that had passed since then, he felt wrung out for other reasons. As he collapsed to pant for air, his body lost his bones for a different reason.

Once more, Wooyoung cursed to himself.

He wanted San to whisper his name into his ear as he fucked Wooyoung with ruthless fingers. Wanted to see what those forearms could do that flexed so handsomely when he handled his gun.

But San didn't even know his real name. And perhaps it was better like that since it was the sole string of sanity that reminded Wooyoung that this was the foolish fantasy of a fanatic.

With a huff, he rolled to his side and cleaned up. He didn't spare his body another glance, disappointed with himself and the urges that took over his conscience.

When he laid back down, he gnawed on his lip. He had to concentrate on the trip and what he could do to improve it. If he needed anything, now was the time to tell Mingi.

He also wanted to see the car.

Anything that could distract him from San and his arrogant smirks.