Mild smut in the middle of the chapter

*******

Wooyoung had no luck trying to find food acceptable to both his stomach and his morals. Myrhad lamb meat gave him the worst stomach aches and blackshrooms on cucumber sent him into half a coma once. Rhor toes he simply didn't want to eat.

After another jog through the area and halting at flickering hologram signs that read the menu, Wooyoung slowed. Perhaps his hunger would most easily be stilled with the pre-packaged food from the motel's automaton. At least he knew what was in there.

Unwilling to appease the hungry grumble with yet another plain sandwich that tasted like cardboard, Wooyoung trudged down the street. His eyes still sought the food stalls, hopeful of finding something humans could digest in the myriad of exotic delicacies. Since Llypso wasn't exactly human-friendly, it came as no surprise that they offered close to no meals that matched their delicate digestive system. Humans could barely eat the things they grew on their own planet.

Wooyoung shook his head to himself. No use in complaining when he was the one who was so far out of the systems he belonged to.

However, his attentive eyes on the shabby vendors cowering in the corners paid off in a way he didn't expect. When his gaze caught onto something, it wasn't a hidden item he could eat on a menu full of absurd foods. It was a man clad in black, hunched over the seating area of one of the said stands.

Wooyoung wouldn't have recognised him if not for the scabbed wound at his lip. Unruly hair hung into his forehead as he scarfed down his food like a starving man. Occasionally, he lifted his gaze to counter to something the myrhad behind the counter said to him.

Wooyoung's heart skipped in his chest when he instantly swerved in San's direction. He wore loose-fitted black pants and a tank-top under a hooded sweat jacket today. The black fabric slipped over his hunched shoulders and exposed a sliver of skin.

When Wooyoung tapped on his shoulder because he didn't trust his enthusiastic squeal to be heard over the thunderous crashing of the nearby machine factory, San turned to him with a guarded look. Even outside of the ring, danger dripped off him to warn any onlookers not to mess with him.

Arguably, he was just a meagre human among many potent alien races, but Wooyoung knew what he was able to do.

"Hi," Wooyoung said as San's eyes flashed with recognition. He drew his brows together, but he didn't send Wooyoung off. Wooyoung counted it as a win.

"The one from the ring. I can't get seem to get rid of you." San lowered his spoon into his steaming bowl. It was a noodle soup served with some meat and vegetables in it, and Wooyoung's stomach rumbled at its scent that wafted strong enough to disrupt the foul stench of trash and mould populating the streets.

Wooyoung hesitated to sit next to him. He glimpsed at the tall myrhad behind the stall. The man had crossed his arms and watched Wooyoung with sceptical eyes. Did San never talk to strangers? The two seemed acquainted.

San pushed his hair out of his face, but a stubborn strand fell right back down. It kissed at the wound above his brow, probably providing the worst itch. Wooyoung yearned to tuck it back for San, but it provided such a charmingly unkempt look that he couldn't help but swoon.

"Do I bother you?" He worded his question carefully, since that was the last thing he wanted to do. His infatuation with the ridiculously strong human shouldn't appear creepy.

Inner Wooyoung hit himself above the head for that lie. He had seen San for one fight when he had already been in the shower, coming to the image of his fierce eyes.

San shifted his feet, that rested on the bar around his tall chair. The black combat boots hugged his feet tightly and snugly pressed his pants to his calves.

"You're quite persistent," San replied. His voice was nonplussed, his face still apprehensive. Wooyoung took a polite step back and lifted his hands in apology.

"I can leave. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

He turned on his heel to march off and ignore the begging hunger in his stomach. A hand caught onto the back of his jacket and rendered his movement useless.

"No, stay. You're less sleazy than the others. What is it you seek?"

Confused and alerted about the mention of sleazy other people who loitered around San, Wooyoung sought an answer to that odd inquiry. What else could he seek from San instead of regular conversation?

"Uh, company?" He supposed. His bewilderment stood written on his face. It must have looked ridiculous, for a faint grin tugged on San's lips. The slightest shadow of a dimple dug into his cheek. Floored, Wooyoung stared at it until San tugged him to sit in the chair by his side with a hand much gentler than what Wooyoung had seen of him so far.

His wet dreams of San's strength and how his grip might feel against Wooyoung's bare skin had to wait for later when his stomach roared again. Sheepish, he wrapped his arms around it.

"Trouble finding food you tolerate out here?" San guessed with a knowing smile. He beckoned the tall myrhad closer while Wooyoung studied the menu, relieved to have found a place.

The stall had a few things he could imagine not getting sick from, but he went the safest route and beckoned toward San's bowl.

"I'll take the same as him, please." Wooyoung smiled when the myrhad turned to prepare his food. His horns dotted over his shoulders like spikes on a jacket.

At ease with the scent of the warm soup that cradled him like a reminder of home, Wooyoung idled about. He felt weird watching San eat when he wanted to do nothing more than that.

Awkward eyes strayed over the booth, the burnt pots and pans the myrhad used for cooking and the greasy counter in front of them that was full of food sprinkles of the day. San, being here at this hour, had to mean that there was no boxing match tonight, right? Or he didn't participate. Wooyoung had no reason to go then, either.

Tense, Wooyoung fiddled with his hands while San devoured his noodles. A small radio device in the booth filled the silence with some generic song that was popular across the galaxies right now. Wooyoung tapped his leg along to it. He second-guessed his decision to bother San once more. His anxiety about this situation would make it impossible to eat.

When the food vendor turned around to him with a sudden question, Wooyoung flinched. Looming because of his height and the elevated cooking area, the yellow eyes of the alien scanned Wooyoung.

"Secret menu?" He asked. His voice was curt, but it rumbled like an ancient machine in the depths of a hidden cave. Intimidated, Wooyoung veiled his confusion with a careful tilt of his head.

"Secret menu?" He echoed, unsure what the myrhad meant. When he received no explanation and instead just a challenging stare, he helplessly sought the card next to him for something that gave its secrets away.

San saved him from his embarrassment as he slurped up his soup.

"Just the regular version," he replied. Since his voice was so sure, Wooyoung nodded along. Perhaps he did better not finding out what the secret menu was.

The myrhad scoffed but handed Wooyoung his bowl, chopsticks and a spoon. The steaming delight wasn't much to look at, but Wooyoung's stomach was more than happy about the fresh food.

He was three bites into the delicious soup when he understood that on a planet like Llypso, the secret menu had to allude to drugs. Frozen, he sent inner thanks to San for probably saving him from a grisly death.

When the myrhad picked up on his train of thought, he chortled.

"Weak humans and their love for plain food. How do you bear this place without making it fun to look at?"

San looked up from his bowl. Mischief curled the corners of his lips and made Wooyoung's heart skip a beat.

"Survival instincts. Don't bully him, Mingi. He's just visiting."

The myrhad named Mingi sent another contemplative look at Wooyoung, then he shrugged and retreated into a corner to chop more vegetables. The constant sound of the knife on the cutting board paired with his music made for pleasant white noise.

Wooyoung ate slower than San, but he was glad to address him between bites.

"Thank you for helping me out there. I'm not used to myrhad customs."

San emptied his broth to the last drop.

"You're welcome. When in doubt, refuse them. A lot of them would have a field trip watching a human explode into fleshy chunks because they fed him something crazy." He nodded his head at Mingi.

"This is a trustworthy place, though. Mingi's a good guy, even when he doesn't look the part."

Wooyoung was dying to find out if the same went for San. So far, he had only shown his rough exterior.

"I might come back some time, then." Wooyoung nodded to himself. He liked the soup Mingi had made, and the chances of running into San here further chained him.

Done with his food, San pushed his bowl away. Wooyoung tried to eat faster to have an excuse to linger instead of San letting him eat alone.

"How long will you stay?" San asked, out of politeness more than anything else. Wooyoung almost cheesed at him for their first proper conversation. Today, San seemed less annoyed by his presence.

"Another week. I had hoped to watch you in some more fights." With prudent hope in his voice, Wooyoung peered over at him. San had leaned back in his chair, and his relaxed body sprawled out invitingly. Gulping, Wooyoung tried not to choke on his noodles.

"Sure. Tuesday is resting day, but I'm there on any other day."

With a furious blush on his cheeks, Wooyoung concentrated on his food. When he glanced at San from his peripherals, he found the man watching him with a heavy, lidded gaze. It was almost too much for Wooyoung's racing heart to bear.

He choked down his noodles faster than he usually would, not appreciating the wonderful meal. San's presence made him nervous. Time passed in a rush while Wooyoung tried to look natural in his messy eating.

Once Wooyoung was done, San sat up in his chair. He handed his wrist to Mingi's scanner, paying for them both before Wooyoung got to open his mouth and protest. Instead, he muttered a surprised 'thanks' under his breath.

When they left their chairs, San beckoned his head down the street.

"Come on. You had some manners, so I might as well."

Unsure what he meant, Wooyoung stumbled after him. His instinct to trail behind San like a lost duck had the man snicker. He buried his hands in his pockets, natural as he roamed the familiar streets of his home.

Wooyoung had trouble keeping up with his powerful strides.

"Where are we going?"

The glint of San's eyes as he studied Wooyoung's hair and the gradient of his irises made Wooyoung's stomach flutter. Now that it didn't cramp in hunger, it was very receptive to his nervosity around San. He wasn't normally such a bumbling fool, but San took every reason away from him.

"To my home. Unless you prefer your ship?"

Why, what were they doing? Had they become friends so fast? Did San want to hang out with him? No, his body language and way of speaking conveyed something entirely different.

Baffled, Wooyoung weighed his chances. Had he appealed to San? Had he changed his mind on drooling fans as Wooyoung was?

He must have done something right for San to make this offer. And he would be a fool to refuse it.

"Your home is fine," Wooyoung squeaked and his voice left him like air hissing from a balloon. His heart beat at a hundred miles per hour as he expected San to laugh it off as a crude joke.

None of that happened. San reached for Wooyoung's hand and Wooyoung prayed he didn't feel his pulse fluttering under his skin when their fingers intertwined. San's skin was warm against Wooyoung's and the pressure of his grip calculated.

San gave him a dazzling smile, dimples and all.

"Then follow me."

He tugged Wooyoung into an alley to take a shortcut and the smuggler already couldn't contain his excitement about what they were about to do.

As Wooyoung stumbled behind San, he looked at their intertwined hands like a fool in love. San held on to him with his left hand, the one less battered by bruises and nicks. His palm was smaller than Wooyoung's, but his grip was assured as he led them through a labyrinth of dark alleys that Wooyoung would never dare walk himself both because of disorientation and the risk. For San, it was reasonable to assume that he would beat up anyone who came at him and call it practice.

San glimpsed at Wooyoung over his shoulder. The soft fabric of his jacket brushed Wooyoung's side whenever they had to squeeze past the piles of debris and rubbish that cluttered the alleys. When the boxer found Wooyoung fumbling and desperate to hide his thrill and unsure eyes, a chuckle sounded from him.

"Are you nervous?"

Glad for the conversation, even when it distracted him from his mental preparations for what would happen once they arrived at San's home, Wooyoung squeezed behind him past a crate.

"I didn't expect you to be down. Usually, my matches are less infamous for their talents."

San scanned the dark alley with his narrow eyes. A group of aliens loitered up ahead in the shadows, so they rerouted to take the next block. Wooyoung had recognised them as myrhads.

"I'm a lot on your tab?"

Wooyoung heard the smug grin in his voice, and he was dying to see it. Heat already curled in his belly when he just watched the movement of San's shoulders in front of him and imagined them leaning above him.

"Yes," Wooyoung breathed out, glad he understood.

His approval made San more playful. As they entered a street big enough to walk side by side, San wrapped an arm around Wooyoung's waist and drew him in. The scent of Mingi's soup booth lingered on the boxer, but Wooyoung picked up on the unmistakable note of the fighting ring underneath. When San inclined his head to utter against Wooyoung's ear, Wooyoung withheld a garbled sound.

"What do you want me to do, hm? Are you one to take or get taken?" Like the call of a siren, his sultry voice sent a zap of craving through Wooyoung's body. His brain blanked on him, bright eyes flicking left and right in an excuse of checking their surrounding with his improved sight.

"I, uh, I get taken."

Having a man like San submit to him sounded like a mesmerising image, but Wooyoung wasn't ready for that challenge. If they only had this one night, he would rather San wrecked him in every possible way and made him remember his embrace for weeks.

"Is that so?" San's arm tightened around Wooyoung's hips, making him feel a fraction of his strength. Wooyoung whimpered when his knees instantly weakened.

San had power over him in the best of ways. Wooyoung's mind spun with all the ideas of what they could do together and in which poses he wanted San to rail him to an inch of his life.

"Are you sure you can bear me? You signed up for quite the night."

If San banged people as he fought, then yes, Wooyoung might be done for. Though that was entirely worth it. He would take what he got.

Determined, Wooyoung lifted his chin. He sent San a gaze that assured the man he wouldn't back down. San countered it with a challenging arch of his brow.

When they rounded the next corner, San caught Wooyoung in the movement that had them closest to each other. His fingers grasped the smuggler's waist on both sides and drew him flush to the body of the boxer.

A flat breath escaped Wooyoung's lungs when his back met the wall of the building assigning the corner. He barely dared breathe when his eyes lifted to San's face. Leaning snugly against Wooyoung so he could feel all of San's built body against him, the boxer trapped him against the wall. Wooyoung's unsure hands rested on San's upper arms.

"I must agree with you. The people who commonly approach me aren't quite like you, either." San tilted his head to match Wooyoung's line of sight. His lazy grin and ruffled hair were the cosiest manners of attractiveness.

"Do you often take them home?" Wooyoung asked. His head tipped against the wall when San's hip bone pressed into the hardening outline in Wooyoung's pants. The bits of skin San's top and jacket showed begged for attention that Wooyoung didn't dare provide in public.

San nosed along his jaw towards his ear. When he arrived there, he grasped Wooyoung's lobe with careful teeth. Their dull surfaces didn't hurt as San tugged on the skin gently.

Wooyoung's breath hitched. His fingers held onto San's jacket, desperate to have it gone and yet needing it as his anchor.

"I don't. I'm not usually one to sell my body, but you're alright. Can you feel it? I'm not opposed."

With Wooyoung's foggy brain, he didn't understand half of that sentence. San's hot breath at his ear and the tiny tugs of his teeth drove Wooyoung insane. His hips ground into San's, finding him just as hard through the thin fabric of his pants. Everything in Wooyoung yearned to slip his hands into San's waistband and feel his stiffness, his heat. If they weren't outside, he would drop to his knees to worship the boxer in every way he deserved.

But alas, they stood in a filthy alley. Their desperate hands tugged and yanked to get the other closer, but neither wanted to risk stripping out here.

San still grew while Wooyoung was already achingly hard against him. The feeling of his shape was everything Wooyoung could have wished for and more. Frustratingly empty, his hips rolled into San's. The little whimpers on his lips matched San's hot breath against his neck.

"Shall we continue our walk? The faster we arrive, the faster I can fill up that greedy body of yours," San offered. Wooyoung held onto him for dear life when San grabbed his behind to drag the entire hard outline in his pants along Wooyoung's torturously slowly. Every second and every centimetre it lasted banished one more thought from Wooyoung's brain until only desire was left.

"San-"

Wooyoung's eyes slipped shut, about ready to come by just grinding against San in a dingy side street while the man's broad shoulders flexed against his fingers.

However, the last brain cell left in his fried brain worked overtime. It repeated their conversation in his head, so he remembered at which moment a reply was in place and got stuck on something San had said.

"Wait... What you said earlier-"

The fast-paced thumps of several pairs of feet coming their way ripped Wooyoung out of his haze. San's head snapped around and Wooyoung made out the silhouettes in the darkness first. A group of myrhads, all with angrily distorted features. Their eyes were dead set on the couple that stood against the wall in shared pleasure.

Alarm bells went off in Wooyoung's head. He shoved San back, taking his hand again. He ignored the lingering desire in his veins when he turned on his heel and fled. San was right behind him, dodging crates and barrels.

A hasty glance at the darkness behind them assured Wooyoung that yes, these guys were coming for them. Murderous intent burned in their eyes as they chased after the two fleeing men.

"San!" Wooyoung called. Fear laced his voice when the much bigger bodies of the myrhads closed the gap between them. The humans' bolting rabbit sprint wasn't enough to shake them off.

San hauled Wooyoung around a corner, and into another alley, hoping to shake their followers off.

"Keep running!" He ordered without a break. Powerful legs carried them through a ridiculous chase. They cut corners, again and again, getting lost in the labyrinth of alleys. Adrenaline pumped through Wooyoung's veins as he did what he had always done best.

As he followed San through the disorienting maze the man picked, his mind reeled. Who were those people? Why were they coming after them and how had they known where to find them in the first place? Did San run instead of fighting to protect Wooyoung? How had he been so alert to what was going on?

Wooyoung hoped that these questions would get answered once they had escaped. San's hair whipped from his face as he ran and his urgent eyes conveyed an apology to Wooyoung.

He was beautiful like that. His agile body sparking with power, the dark eyebrows on display and his injuries making him look untamed.

Over his own panting, Wooyoung couldn't tell if their followers had let up yet. When San tugged him around a corner in a replay of earlier, the two held their breaths and squeezed against the chilled wall by their side to listen.

Wooyoung's shoulder was pressed against San's chest. The boxer had wrapped one arm around the smuggler as their unseeing eyes stared into the shadows. Wooyoung could feel San's heart pounding away through their skin. His heat and the outline of his erection against Wooyoung's hip sent his heart into a frenzy.

In the distance, the factories roared in their constant cycle of spitting out new robots. Vermin rustled through the gutters and the whir of electricity nearby created the typical buzz of Llypso.

No more voices called resentful insults after them. No feet stomped through the alleys.

Wooyoung exhaled. His lungs ached from their run and the amount of poisonous air he had breathed in on the way.

San chuckled, just as relieved as him. When his hand came up to skim through Wooyoung's turquoise hair where he had lost his hood, Wooyoung's sweat wet it.

"I apologise about that," San said. He twirled one of Wooyoung's locks around his finger, charmed by the way green bled into the purple tips. They grew like that, and whenever Wooyoung chopped the tips off to have a uniform colour, another fragment of every hair changed its hue. It was a bother, but Wooyoung's mother had always told him it suited him very well.

Without trouble seeing San in the dark, Wooyoung eyed him. Thankfully, the perpetrators hadn't brought laser guns or else Wooyoung might have been able to see San's insides in no pleasant way.

"Are you alright?" Wooyoung asked. In the dark of San's clothes, it was impossible to tell if he had got caught on some sharp edges and bacteria poisoned his blood while they talked.

San looked bewildered for a moment. Then he caught himself with another winning smile.

"Of course I am. Are you fine?"

Wooyoung nodded on instinct, not even checking in with his body. If he wasn't, the shock of the chase numbed him.

"Just spooked. Does this happen a lot around you?"

San sighed as he checked the alley behind them once more. When the coast was clear, they wandered further away from where they got attacked. San tugged their hoods over their head to make them unrecognisable. Wooyoung thought that his carved features were still much too distinct.

"Beating people up all day gets me quite a few enemies. There are countless sore losers who believe they have to restore their honour by coming after me in the dark. Wouldn't be the first time I get a revanche outside of the ring's safety." San snickered, but Wooyoung stared at him with terror.

As someone on the other side of the law, Wooyoung was used to unscrupulous people around him. Yet, as a provider, he earned a neutral middle. Those who wanted his service wouldn't try to murder him at night.

San fought fair and square - as much as possible on Llypso - and still got threatened. The thought weighed heavily on Wooyoung's stomach.

"That's horrible!" He exclaimed, too loud for their surrounding. When he snapped his mouth shut with a wince, San waved it off.

"I got used to it. In most cases, they just lose a second time. I always got out of trouble so far."

Wooyoung wanted to ask him what he would do if he ever didn't, but they weren't that close. Just close enough to grind in a dirty alley.

As they reached the main street, San turned to Wooyoung.

"I'm sorry, but I think today isn't the best day for us to be together. I will make up for it if you come to the next match. Please don't mention this to Hongjoong."

Far too understanding of the trouble, Wooyoung nodded. San's face pulled into a mischievous smirk.

When he stepped in to hug Wooyoung, the smaller male relished the comforting touch. He was jittery after the chase, but San's body offered security.

"Thanks for putting up with me."

San waved at him as he retreated and soon disappeared into another street. Wooyoung stood, captivated, as he stared after the mysterious boxer.

It was only after San was long gone that Wooyoung noticed he had neither thanked him for the food nor demanded an answer about the comment about selling his body.

Wooyoung trudged home to take a shower, but he wasn't upset. He felt he had got to know San much better today.

-

After a night spent in deep sleep after all the running around and getting excited Wooyoung did the day prior, he woke up to another memo from Yeosang. The android offered to meet Wooyoung at the docks through their messaging system and Wooyoung was glad it worked without a hitch. As he sat on his bed in the motel and stuffed his feet into his shoes, he wondered if he would see San fight tonight. Their private meeting last night had left him woozy and he burnt with curiosity about how it had changed San's opinion of him. His so-far gruff behaviour had eased after they ate together, but Wooyoung couldn't help wondering if that was because he had mistaken Wooyoung's interest as something else.

Wooyoung nodded at the myrhad lady at the reception before he left the building and stepped into the eternal darkness of Llypso. He felt it gnawing on him, that lack of natural light. As if the planet were trapped in the foul-smelling, gaping maw of a cosmic monster, it ate away at Wooyoung's sanity.

The walk to the docks wasn't far. Fewer people lounged in the shadows than at the hours around the curfew, but Wooyoung watched them more vigilantly than before. He prayed San hadn't run into another group of them on his way back. If they recognised Wooyoung as San's acquaintance, he was also in trouble, but he wasn't the one they wanted to butcher for winning in a fight.

No one stood out as particularly invested in Wooyoung's presence. With the same greedy eyes that sought a quick mugging as always, the criminals ducked away when he glanced at them.

This time, too, Wooyoung was early. He checked on his ship and found everything in order. As he stood at its control panels, he almost missed flying through the galaxies with it. He promised himself that his infatuation with San wouldn't linger any longer than the extra week he would spend here. Soon, his ship and he would journey the stars again.

When he spotted Yeosang wandering the docks outside the hangar, Wooyoung locked his ship with his wrist chip and joined the android. Yeosang smiled at his sight, his blond hair artfully in place and standing out between the grimy inhabitants of Llypso.

"It's good to see you again, Mister Jung," Yeosang greeted him as they walked in no particular direction together. Wooyoung beamed back.

"Just Wooyoung is fine. I feel we became closer through the shared hobby of the boxing ring. I didn't say my farewells last time. Did you and Jongho get home well?"

The reminder of the rhor haunted Wooyoung again with his glassy, sunken eyes. Yeosang had to know about his addiction. Did he help Jongho fix it? What was their affiliation?

Yeosang gave an indulgent nod.

"We did, thank you. I hope you found what you sought on that evening. San can be blunt, but he would never attack a customer. I'm sorry for his behaviour when you meant well."

"I have a question about that," Wooyoung piped up before he forgot it. Since Yeosang didn't entice him by grinding a god-like body against Wooyoung while they talked, his mind was alert this time.

Yeosang mentioned him to go on with a serene smile.

"Last night, I met him in the city and we ate together. San mentioned something about selling his body? He appeared standoffish towards me for that very reason. I was wondering what the meaning of that was."

A little 'ah' sound escaped Yeosang. He rubbed his neck in an awkwardly human gesture before his eyes found Wooyoung's discoloured ones again.

"He must have mistaken you as an investor."

"An investor?"

The two found their way into a bar and Yeosang tapped on his wristlet to order drinks for them without ceasing their conversation. Wooyoung overlooked the establishment as they sat in a corner together.

"The ring is sponsored by rich foreigners who find enjoyment in watching the fights. Their funds keep the ring afloat and finance the payment of the fighters. In turn, that means a certain superiority comes from them whenever they visit the ring. They demand sexual services from the boxers they desire occasionally, claiming it is their right since they keep the ring running and safe from the law. Most of them pay for that extra treatment, but... Since they aren't part of the ownership, our boxers don't appreciate being sold as wares for the pleasure of someone they don't know."

Wooyoung couldn't help his grimace. While vile arrangements like these came to no surprise in this place, he was very offended that San had mistaken him for someone like that. Sure, Wooyoung was half zad and his presence at the ring was most peculiar, but had he come off that strongly? And had San truly considered it?

"Is that why he didn't want to talk to me?" Wooyoung asked with his face buried in his hands. Their drinks popped up on their table and Yeosang handed Wooyoung his glass while he kept the funky blue android cocktail to himself.

"I'm afraid yes. Perhaps he thought I would bring sponsors in since my master also sponsors the ring. San is normally very adamant about not being a good to sell. His uncanny skill and human appearance make him a popular pick for bigger aliens that want to throw him around. They disregard his human limits, so he flat-out refused some of their very good investors before. It never goes well for the ring's reputation, but the staff appreciate San too much to fault him for it." Yeosang sipped his drink and licked his lips with a pleased hum.

Wooyoung was mortified. He felt horrible that San had to go through things like that. Even more so since he thought Wooyoung wanted to make him do the same.

Why had he agreed? Because he had found Wooyoung cute enough to forego his morals? Or because Wooyoung posed no threat?

"The guy Hongjoong mentioned, the angelian, he is an investor. Gets treated with a fair share of suspicion around the ring, but from what I saw, he really is as passionate about the sport as he pretends to be. He hasn't tried to get one of the boxers into bed before either."

Wooyoung bit his lip before the information that Seonghwa was interested in someone else could burst over it. He sipped his drink, warning himself to stay quiet.

"He seems like a good guy. Those investors are rare, but they exist."

Wooyoung's fingers played with his glass. His eyes were lowered as the memories of last night played in his inner eye like a movie. San had considered him for so long before giving up his pride. Perhaps money was tight right now, and he wanted to take what he could get. Better Wooyoung, who was somewhat charming if weird, than some cocky investor bastard.

Wooyoung felt bad. The coil of his stomach made every sip of his cold drink uncomfortable to swallow.

"I wish I could apologise to him. Are you at the ring tonight and can take me backstage again, by any chance?"

Yeosang glanced at his tablet and thinned his lips.

"I'm afraid not; I have a schedule after this. However, I could give you another entry pass and San's contact data. He rarely checks his tablet, but you might get lucky."

When Wooyoung perked up as if struck by lightning, Yeosang snickered at him. He matched the data with Wooyoung's tablet as he had done before and when Wooyoung leaned back with a disbelieving smile; he had another red permit card and San's number. Thrilled, he lowered his arm.

"I don't know how to thank you. Advising me of the ring was the best thing you could have done. Can I do anything to repay you?"

Yeosang chuckled into his drink. His artificially blue eyes knew exactly what impact his decision had made.

"You could give me a discount to transport some wares back with you once you leave. My master has a couple of things he needs to be delivered, but there is no time limit. Just drop them off whenever you're in the S'orkon Section."

Confused by that vague information, Wooyoung lifted his brow.

"No time limit?"

Yeosang snickered at his suspicion. Of course, this matter was far from legal.

"We have an outpost there where we store goods. Naturally, you wouldn't want to cross some borders with that cargo on board, but it doesn't have priority. Just make sure it arrives safely and doesn't get shaken up too much." His ominous words made his grin dark, but Wooyoung took it with humour. This was nothing new to him.

"Sure, no problem. We can discuss the details later and I will give you a discount."

At the reminder that he now had San's contact data and could call him anytime, Wooyoung's heart did a flip. He hoped San's opinion of him would get better once the man knew that Wooyoung wasn't some investor after his body. He was just Wooyoung and while he was still down for a shared night, he wouldn't push San to do anything.

Before more details about their deal got leaked, Wooyoung changed the topic. The dull music echoing through the bar eased his mood as he assured his impatient heart he would see San later and clear the table between them.

"So, your master, he funds the ring?"

Yeosang nodded as he swirled the thick fluid in his glass. His white suit blended with the pale skin of his veiny hands. Whoever built him had a field trip making him into an unnecessarily handsome human lookalike. Then again, people who owned androids preferred them to be attractive. Wooyoung always found it strange.

"My master is a close friend of the ring's owner and helped him establish it when he lacked money. I've known San for years, pretty much ever since I got built and started serving my master. I watched him grow up and make bloody messes of countless people." Yeosang grinned at the fond memory and Wooyoung couldn't help but do the same when he imagined it. Then his face fell.

"You knew him since he was young and still send investors his way?"

His frown got no regret out of Yeosang, only a hum.

"Since he is so close to the owner, my master's investor friends are very privileged when it comes to the boxers. If I had a choice, I would leave San alone with them, but I'm always assured he doesn't accept their advances if he doesn't want to. It's an unfortunate business, but necessary. Those extra payments go right into the boxers' personal funds and some of them direly need it. Having sex with a stranger can be a more pleasant job to do than many other things on this planet. Especially if they are a fan."

Wooyoung still didn't like it. As normal as it was out here, he found it bordered on blackmail. If the boxers didn't comply, they might get kicked from the ring and their sole source of income. The investors had their lives in their hands and Wooyoung didn't like the thought of San only being lucky in his status so far. If someone wanted to force him, they could. And money was always tight, so San would have to give up his pride occasionally, as he had done for Wooyoung.

"We had boxers before who agreed to those terms and then beat up investors when they came off too strong. Granted, they had to dip afterwards, but it's always a relief to know they aren't defenceless," Yeosang added when he noticed Wooyoung's frown.

With a weak smile, Wooyoung shifted topics once more.

"And your master still invests? What does he supply?"

"The drugs Hongjoong sells there. It's a business in a business and it makes the ring tons of credits. We treat it as an advertisement in return for paying for the ring."

Wooyoung shivered. Perhaps he hadn't smuggled machine parts to Llypso after all.

When he picked up on the grim sadness around Yeosang's eyes, another thought caught up with him.

Yeosang was the reason those drugs were sold at the ring and got the audience, as well as the boxers, addicted. Without him, Jongho would be in much better health. Did Yeosang like him? Did he feel sorry for the role he played in ruining the man's life? If Jongho needed the drugs to be at ease, he also needed more money than the average boxer.

Money that came from investors.

Wooyoung rubbed his face. He had really stumbled his way onto the worst planet in existence. Perhaps Jongho was lucky and Yeosang's infatuation with him meant the android could supply his addiction.

No matter how sweet Yeosang looked as an android, Wooyoung left the bar hours later, being more on edge about him than before.