The canvas walls of the tent seemed to constrict around Minho, the air inside growing heavy with tension. Seo-Jun's voice, a low, silken caress, sliced through the silence. "Why are you always so surprised?" A smirk played on his lips, a subtle curve that hinted at secrets and hidden intentions. He began to move, his approach slow and deliberate, each step a calculated manoeuvre in a silent way of power. "The only way to make both parts happen in the end was to have a tie. So I did just that."
Minho's cheeks flushed, a crimson tide rising against his skin, betraying the turmoil within. He instinctively recoiled, his gaze flitting around the cramped space, seeking an escape route that didn't exist. The scent of damp earth beneath them mingled with the faint aroma of Seo-Jun's cologne, a heady mix that both intrigued and unsettled Minho. "But... but..." he stammered, the words catching in his throat, a desperate attempt to grasp at the unraveling threads of the situation.
Seo-Jun's shadow loomed, eclipsing Minho as he drew closer. The smirk deepened, becoming a tantalising challenge. "What? You don't want to be part of the team now?" The words were a velvet trap, designed to ensnare and disarm.
"NO! I want to be part! It's just-" Minho's protest was abruptly silenced as Seo-Jun straightened, the playful glint in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. "Then, everything is settled." With a final, decisive nod, he turned and walked away, his departure leaving a void in the tent, a vacuum of unanswered questions.
A maelstrom of thoughts swirled within Minho's mind, a tempest of confusion and suspicion. "Okay, something is not quite right. He let me have a tie just like that? Why?" The question reverberated in his thoughts, a persistent echo in the sudden silence. He was left standing alone, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him, the unsettling feeling that he was a pawn in a game he didn't understand.
A shout from outside the tent shattered the tense atmosphere. "Minho! Come have a drink with us!" The words, a welcome intrusion, pulled Minho from the precipice of his thoughts. A smile, tentative at first, bloomed on his face. "Let's just enjoy it for now. And I will think about it later." He replied, "Oh, I am coming." and with that, he walked out of the tent, the weight of the encounter momentarily lifted.
He followed the voice to the team's tent, the air thick with laughter and the promise of respite. He joined the members of the team at the table, the familiar faces a comforting balm against the disquiet that gnawed at him. A drink was poured, the amber liquid reflecting the warm glow of the lanterns. The conversation flowed, the team members reliving the race, their voices filled with a boisterous joy that grated against Minho's frayed nerves. They celebrated his victory, their words a chorus of praise that felt hollow in his ears. He sat, a silent observer, a spectator in his own triumph. "I should have really won. I was so close to... Now, I feel stupid for even trying to compete against him."
He stared into his glass, the swirling liquid mirroring the turmoil within. Sam, sitting opposite him, caught the shadow of his discontent. A knowing smile played on his lips. "What's with the sad face? You just did the one thing no one else could do. This deserves a celebration! Drink!" The words, though meant to uplift, felt like a gentle prod, reminding him of the victory he couldn't fully embrace. The clinking of glasses, a brief respite, a shared understanding of the complexities of victory and defeat.
The boisterous energy of the team's celebration began to fade, the collective chatter softening into a distant murmur that barely registered in Minho's ears. His gaze, however, remained sharp, darting across the animated faces of his companions. A subtle unease tugged at him as he realised a key figure was missing from the lively tableau. Seo-Jun. The absence, though slight, felt like a missing piece in a familiar puzzle. With a subtle shift, he turned his head, seeking out Sam amidst the revelry. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for information. "Sam hyung, where is Seo-Jun?"
Sam's lips curved into a smirk, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he met Minho's gaze. "Oh, probably walking around. He doesn't like the smell of alcohol very much." Minho, glancing down at his own glass, felt a pang of guilt, a fleeting recognition of his own indulgence. The scent of the liquor, usually a comforting aroma, now felt heavy, almost oppressive. "Yeah, I know... But isn't it strange? Doesn't he own a bar or something?"
Sam chuckled, the sound a warm counterpoint to the cool evening air. He raised his glass in a mock toast before taking a long, deliberate swallow. The liquid disappeared, and he lowered the glass. "Bars. But that doesn't mean he has to love alcohol. He drinks from time to time, but the smell disgusts him a lot." He paused, as if considering the complexities of his friend's character.
"I see..." Minho murmured, his gaze now fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. The light caught the facets, reflecting the flickering candlelight. A silent vow formed in his mind, a quiet promise to himself. "Well, I should hold myself from drinking too much then... since we will do it tonight... a lot..." A faint blush crept up his cheeks, a subtle betrayer of his thoughts, a silent acknowledgment of the impending revelry and the potential consequences.
The abrupt silence that fell over the tent was a physical thing, a tangible hush that preceded Seo-Jun's entrance. The lively chatter died, replaced by a collective intake of breath as Seo-Jun's presence filled the space. His low voice, a stark contrast to the earlier merriment, sliced through the air, cutting through the tension like a honed blade. "Hey Tiny, we are leaving. Get your things and go wait for me in the car." The command, delivered with quiet authority, brooked no argument, no hesitation. It was a statement of fact, a definitive end to the festivities. The party, it seemed, was over.
The celebratory din of the team's victory had faded, leaving behind a lingering sense of camaraderie and shared triumph. Yet, for Minho, the elation felt tainted, a shadow cast by the impending arrival of Seo-Jun. The knowledge hung heavy in the air, a silent premonition of the inevitable command to leave. A sigh escaped his lips, a release of the tension that had been building within him. He knew that this was going to happen eventually. With a deliberate movement, he rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the ground, avoiding any eye contact.
"Yes, sir." he murmured, the words a respectful acknowledgment of Seo-Jun's authority. He dipped his head in a brief bow, a gesture of deference to his teammates, a silent farewell to the fleeting joy of the evening. Then, with a steady stride, he moved towards the exit, his path taking him directly past Seo-Jun. He didn't meet his gaze, not even a fleeting glance, the deliberate avoidance was a silent act of defiance.
Seo-Jun's expression registered a flicker of confusion, a subtle furrowing of his brow. He had anticipated a different reaction, a different response. Sam, sensing the unspoken question, sighed, a knowing understanding in his eyes. He approached Seo-Jun.
"What's up with him?" Seo-Jun asked, the confusion tinged with a hint of annoyance. The query hung in the air, a testament to the complexities of their relationship.
Sam's gaze followed Minho's retreating form, a silent assessment of the situation. "Dunno. He seems pissed off because he lost. Well, you ended up having a tie, but probably from his point of view it is a loss." The words, though seemingly simple, were laden with a deeper meaning, a recognition of Minho's competitive spirit.
A slow smirk spread across Seo-Jun's face, a mixture of amusement and understanding. He raised an eyebrow, a silent acknowledgment of Minho's competitive nature. "I see. I will deal with his bad mood then." The low tone, a promise of resolution, hung in the air. With a decisive turn, he followed Minho's path, his footsteps echoing the silent challenge that had been laid down. The game, it seemed, was far from over.
The evening air, once filled with the echoes of celebration, now held a quiet tension as Seo-Jun made his way towards his car. His gaze scanned the surroundings, settling on the figure of Minho already seated inside, engrossed in his phone. A smirk played on his lips, a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken game that was about to unfold between them. With a confident stride, he approached the car, the metallic gleam of the vehicle reflecting the streetlights.
Inside, Minho was lost in chats with Jin. He was sharing the details of his infiltration, the delicate dance of deception and strategy. The plan was progressing as intended, but the tie still gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of the competitive fire that burnt within. The disappointment was a tangible weight, a shadow that lingered even amidst the success.
The car door opened with a soft click, and Seo-Jun settled into the seat beside him. Minho immediately put his phone down, his gaze averted, deliberately ignoring Seo-Jun's presence. It was a calculated move, a silent act of defiance that spoke volumes.
Seo-Jun's lips curved into a full-blown grin, his amusement evident. "Oh, the poor kitten is upset because his expectations to win against the champion have failed." He teased, his eyes gleaming with playful mockery. He leaned in, his gaze locked on Minho, seeking a reaction.
Minho's stone-faced expression didn't waver, his eyes fixed on the scenery outside. "I am not upset. Just disappointed. I would have adored to see your face when you got defended by someone." His voice, though controlled, carried a sharp edge.
The engine roared to life, shattering the lingering silence. "Good thing this won't happen any time soon." Seo-Jun declared, his smirk widening as he put the car in gear. The vehicle glided forward, navigating the dimly lit streets. Minho, still gazing out the window, offered a subtle eye roll.
The words hung in the air, unexpected and laced with a subtle intensity. "Except... the person who defends me is you." The statement was a revelation, a twist in their intricate conversation. Minho's body flinched, his head snapping towards Seo-Jun, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something else, something unreadable.
Seo-Jun continued, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, "If you win, then I will as well. After all, you are my sex buddy. It will be like I win too." A smirk played on his lips, a secret shared between them.
A blush crept up Minho's neck, quickly masked by a roll of his eyes and a dismissive "Whatever." as he returned his gaze to the passing scenery. The silence returned, thick with unspoken thoughts and hidden emotions.
Sensing the palpable tension, Seo-Jun broke the quiet, his voice laced with playful teasing. "I see you are in a bad mood. Don't worry about it, I will personally take care of that. I will lift up your mood at home." His grin was a promise, a hint of something more. "And I will make sure you enjoy every second of the process."
Minho's body flinched again, his eyes wide with a sudden apprehension. He turned towards Seo-Jun, a mix of fear and curiosity flickering across his face. His mind raced, conjuring images of what Seo-Jun had in store. "Oh, no!" he thought, his internal alarm bells ringing.
Desperate to dispel the mounting tension, he stammered, "Who is in a bad mood?! Me?! No, that's not true!" His voice was a shaky defence, a flimsy shield against the playful storm that was brewing.
Seo-Jun's smirk deepened as he accelerated through the darkened streets, the city lights blurring into streaks of color.