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Unshed tears, red bitten lips, and full of shame. Leaning against the bathroom stall’s door, Yunho let his head fall forward.
Ragged, sharp inhales echoed in the empty room, small gasps escaping his parted lips as he brought a hand down to his belt. He couldn’t do this, not here, not now.
He had always been sensitive, hyper-sensitive even. Sometimes, all it took was someone bumping into him on the train, a brush to his leg, and he’d be leaking into his boxers, a visible tent in his suffocating work pants.
His only saving grace being his briefcase, white-knuckling it as he covered himself. Biting back pathetic noises while he prayed for it to go away.
Growing up, it had been mortifying, but now, as an adult, it was even worse. In meetings, in front of people who made his monthly salary in a day, people who could have him fired with just a look.
And still, he couldn’t stop it; it felt like any touch could set him off.
No matter how bad it got, though, Yunho would never just handle it in a public restroom; he had morals, or at least a few.
Even if he was on the verge of crying, painfully hard, he just left it as it was. Deciding that if he were to give in and touch himself, he’d be giving in to himself, admitting that his sensitivity was just a part of him, that it would never get better.
He thought that maybe, if he were to get a partner, it would ease up, that perhaps his sensitivity was due to him being touch-starved, a virgin in his late twenties.
But deep down, he knew it was just how his body was wired, pitiful and defective.
Regardless of his thoughts, no one would want to be with a man like Yunho; it was embarrassing, pathetic even.
He had no self-control.
The sound of footsteps interrupted his self-loathing. He had to get back to work; he couldn’t hide in here forever.
As quietly as Yunho could manage, he shakily brought his hand down, adjusting himself so that his issue wasn’t as obvious, biting back a whimper when he zipped and buckled his pants back up.
Leaving the stall, he quickly made his way towards his desk, an oversized jacket on top of his normal work clothes, and if anyone ever questioned him, he’d always use the same excuse, ‘I guess my blood just runs cold!’
It wasn’t every day that it was this bad; he could go days, even weeks, without making contact with anyone, but unfortunately for Yunho, sometimes people just had no sense of personal space, those ‘people’, most of the time, being his boss, Song Mingi.
Who just so happened to be waiting in Yunho’s office, a bright smile on his perfect face, as if he just happened to run into an old friend.
“Yunho! Glad to see you. We missed you at the meeting today. How come?” Mingi’s voice was deep and damn near deafening in the small room. An almost sulky expression on his sharp features.
Yunho felt his heart beat just a little faster at the pouty look. Mingi being exactly his type helped absolutely no one.
Entering the office, he took a seat in his chair, gazing up at the man with an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, sir. I woke up feeling- um…a bit off, I may be coming down with something.” Lying through his teeth, Yunho coughed into his hand, averting his gaze.
At Yunho’s words, Mingi walked around his desk, invading the space as if it were his own. He raised his hand, putting the back of it against Yunho’s forehead. A totally normal thing for a boss to do.
The feeling was instantly too much, swallowing thickly, Yunho looked up at his boss, brows furrowed. “Sir, I’m alright, there’s no need to check.” His voice came out weak, and Yunho nearly cursed under his breath at the breathy tone.
Above him, Mingi nodded, a frown on his pretty lips, “You do feel a bit warm, but I’ll take your word for it.” He smiled, pulling his hand away, moving it to settle on Yunho’s tense shoulder. “I hope you’ll forgive me for being so overbearing.”
Leaning down, Mingi lowered his voice ever so slightly, “You’re always so good, such a hard worker. I’d hate for you to get sick because of it.”
What the fuck.
Yunho flinched, moving away from Mingi, his ears flushed and red, eyes blown wide. ‘Always so good.’ The words echoed in his head.
Against his will, he felt his dick twitch at the praise, straining against the tight restraints of his work pants, his words coming out broken and unnatural, “S-Sir- That’s..um- Very kind of you to say.” Clearing his throat, he pushed himself closer to his desk, moving his chair with him until his chest was flush against it. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.” He nearly hissed out the words, desperate for the conversation to end.
Mingi almost looked amused at his tone, “Alright, alright. I won't fuss over it.” He finally stepped away, straightening his back as his usual, bright and friendly smile returned. “I do expect your report to be finished by the end of the day, though. I’ll even come and collect it myself.”
Letting a weary sigh escape his lips, Yunho nodded, attempting a smile back, “Of course.”
Thankfully, that was it. Mingi left without another word, closing the door to Yunho’s office behind him.
When he heard the click, Yunho nearly collapsed against his desk, letting out a breath he was very aware he was holding the entire interaction. He brought his hands up, letting his head fall into his palms. His cock throbbed, leaking pre-cum into his briefs.
Unconsciously, he had his thighs pressed tightly together, untouched and begging for release, but no matter how much he wanted it, he couldn’t allow himself; he forced his legs apart, a pathetic sound punching out of his chest as he did so.
At that moment, he was very thankful for his work pants being black.
Biting down on his lower lip, he closed his eyes.
He was not turned on, he did not have a thing for his boss, and he was most certainly not going to cum in his pants at work.
Is what he told himself, at least.
But as the day went on, he felt himself get more and more desperate; it hurt like hell at that point, his eyes were glassy, unshed tears threatening to fall any moment. And it most definitely didn’t help that he had a perfect view of Mingi’s office through the glass of his own.
Anytime he saw the man, it was a reminder of his current situation.
Yunho let his head fall forward, his breath coming out short and hitched. He needed it to go away; he had to get release.
But how? In his current state, he wouldn’t be able to make it to the bathroom; he was so turned on, he was sure his legs would give out. His cock rubbed against his boxers painfully. With every twitch, he let out a whimper.
It had never gotten this far. He’d always been able to just ignore it; it was uncomfortable, of course, but he’d never gotten even close to his current state, hips twitching upwards, chasing friction.
What caused this? Was it Mingi’s praise? His voice? Or just his presence in general? Yunho wasn’t stupid; he knew his boss was absolutely gorgeous, men and women from every department seemed to chase after his approval, and Yunho was no different, even if he tried to convince himself otherwise.
The work day was nearly over. If he just focused on his work, maybe he’d be able to distract himself for just thirty minutes, and he’d be free.
But even then, would he make it home? He always took the train; it was the only way to his workplace without driving, which, unfortunately for Yunho, he was still saving up for a car.
Most people had already left the office, and Yunho was always one of the last to leave. Would it be better to just give in while he was in his office? Or risk public humiliation on the train.
As if his body decided on its own, his thighs rubbed together, and instantly, Yunho was letting out small, hiccup-like noises. His back arched off the chair as he moved his knees together. Heat churned at the bottom of his stomach, shame following with it.
He couldn’t help himself; he let his hand fall, slowly wrapping his long, shaky fingers around his belt buckle. When he finally undid it, he nearly sobbed from the relief, small whimpers falling from his lips as he pushed his hand through, into his work pants, his palm making contact with his neglected dick through his wet, sticky boxers.
He knew it wouldn’t take long, and he didn’t want it to take long, so he began to palm himself; his head fell backwards, as his other hand gripped the bottom of his chair until his knuckles turned white.
Something about him finally giving in, touching himself at work, of all places, made him feel so much more sensitive, if it was even possible.
He had no idea if he was even alone at this point; his coworkers could’ve still been there, able to walk by the glass windows of his office and catch him at any time, but even knowing that, he didn’t stop himself. If anything, to his horror, it turned him on even more.
A few tears finally fell as he brought his finger to the tip of his cock, running it along the slit through the fabric; he was leaking so much he knew his pants were going to be absolutely ruined.
He was so close, whining to himself as he quickened his movements, his hand pushing against himself feverishly. He was damn near crying now.
But right before he could finally finish and gain the relief he needed so desperately, a knock was echoing through the door.
The report.
Mingi was here to collect it.
Panicking, Yunho sat up straight. He didn’t even have a chance to pull his hand out of his pants before the door opened. He pushed his chair forward, bringing his other hand up to rest on his desk, trying his best to hide himself. His hand stilled on his cock. If he even moved an inch, he swore he’d be cumming in his pants, right in front of his boss.
As Mingi made his way into the office, shutting the door behind him, he was instantly met with an empathetic look, “Shit, Yunho, are you okay? You really should’ve gone home.”
Mingi had never said something so truthful.
Yunho looked like shit, his flushed face was tear-stained, his hair disheveled, and his lips were damn near bloodied from all the biting he was doing.
To Mingi, he probably looked like hell; to anyone who knew the truth, he looked like hell, and horribly fucked out.
“No. I’m fine- ..U-Um… Right- The report.” Yunho stumbled over his own words, his voice shaky as he spoke. His free hand moved across his desk, searching desperately for the papers he barely finished working on throughout the day.
As he continued his search, Mingi stepped closer, his hand moving to grab Yunho's wrist. “Forget the report, you can send it in next week, just head home for the day,” Mingi spoke in a stern voice, his lips forming into a frown as he looked down at Yunho, a shaking mess.
As kind as it was, Yunho shook his head, thighs pressing tightly together at the tone of voice. God, he was so close, and Mingi’s talking to him like that was making it so much worse. He averted Mingi’s gaze, pressing his lips tightly together, eyes pinching closed.
“Yunho? Are you–” Mingi’s words were cut off by Yunho frantically pulling his wrist away from the man’s grasp. He tried his best to stifle any noises, but a whine cut through, “God please- s-stop talking, I'm begging you.” Yunho’s face flushed, tears welling up in his eyes once again as he tried to calm himself down; one more word from Mingi and it was over.
Above him, Mingi stilled, and Yunho felt his heart drop. Did he notice?
“S-Sir-” Yunho gasped out, brows furrowed as he tried to think of an excuse, but he didn’t need one, as Mingi cut him off, a hint of something in his eyes, Yunho couldn’t place.
“Stand up.”
Eyes blown wide, Yunho panicked, his chest rising and falling faster than before, “I-....I’m sorry, please- I can expla-”
“I’m not mad at you, stand up, Yunho.”
Confused, Yunho reluctantly made eye contact with Mingi; his expression was unreadable. What was he planning to do?
Embarrassed, Yunho slowly removed his hand from his jeans, lips twitching as he stifled back a noise. The feeling of his hand dragging against his cock felt like torture.
Mingi smiled at the movement, taking a step closer to Yunho, “Good job, come on, stand up now.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he talked down to him.
Yunho had to be hallucinating, a whine escaping his lips at the subtle praise. He hesitated before shakily standing up, stepping away from his chair, his sticky hand moving to pull his jacket down, a messy attempt to keep some of his pride.
Was Mingi messing with him? He felt his breath come out fast and short, a few tears falling from his eyes.
He was going to lose his job- ..No, that wasn’t the thing that upset him; it was that Mingi of all people caught him.
Before he could open his mouth and dig himself further, Mingi moved past him, taking his place in Yunho’s chair. His legs spread and arms out, as if beckoning Yunho to him.
Giving Mingi a dumb, confused look, he spoke, his voice coming out hoarse, “Sir, I don’t….”
At his words, Mingi laughed, and Yunho shrank back, bewildered at his actions.
Mingi spoke plainly, as if it were obvious, “Use me.”
.
.
.
What?
It felt as if all the air got knocked out of Yunho’s lungs; he heaved, eyes blown wide as his face turned a furious shade of red. “W-What the hell? You can’t just–”
A weary sigh left Mingi’s lips before he captured Yunho by the wrist, forcefully pulling him into his lap, his knees against his hips, and their chests flush together.
Yunho let out a yelp, gasping from the impact, his head fell forward against Mingi’s shoulder. And before he could even yell or push Mingi away, the man was grabbing Yunho’s hips, grinding up against him.
And Yunho sobbed. The friction overwhelming him; he had never been touched like this before, let alone like that.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Mingi grunted, his voice wavering slightly as he ground up against him, whispering small praises into Yunho’s ear.
Yunho’s head was spinning, whimpers and gasps falling out of his lips at every hip movement. He tried to focus, to stop himself, but he couldn’t; he let his own hips move against Mingi, which seemed to please him at the way his hips bucked up, meeting him halfway.
Trembling and gripping onto Mingi for dear life, all it took was a few movements from the man beneath him for Yunho to unravel, tears streaming down his face as he spilled into his pants, beads of cum, spilling through the fabric of his underwear. He cried out, sobbing into Mingi’s shoulder, his chest rising and falling at a quick pace, unable to catch his breath.
“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Whispering, Mingi smiled against Yunho’s ear, not stopping his movements as he continued to grind against him. An obvious tent in his pants, “You’ll stay still for me, won’t you?”
And God, Yunho nearly came again from his words alone.