【Synopsis】 : Longing stares and teasing words make a lustful mix when brought into the boxing ring.
Pairings: Boxer!San x BarTender!Reader
[Warnings] : Teasing. Swearing. Dystopian world dynamics. Friends to lovers trope. Lots of tension. Hints of lure work and body jobs. Love drunk San. San is also a switch kinda. He lowkey wants the reader to top him. Reader kinda has a thing for sweat, so...woops. pet names (peach, baby, pretty boy) very and i mean very public sex (like anyone could look through the window or walk in at any moment hehe). Unprotected sex (it's an apocalyptic world, it happens). The reader is a little on the plump side, but there isn't much detail on that. (Thick thighs save lives people) oral (reader receiving)
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Your eyes sparkled as you watched him train. His fists were tight and close by his face and chest, while his eyes stared off as if he was looking at his next component. Your gaze scanned every scar along his sweat-dipped biceps towards his dirty white-t that you couldn't remember if you ever saw him wash it. But then again, usually, he would just throw them away for another once they were too covered in blood, sweat, and sometimes tears.
"I said the posters go on the windows by the bar argh!" Wooyoung―San's quote-on-quote manager―well his fake one yelled at a poor worker yet again. Undercover. Hiding until the moment to strike was near. But that was a story for another time. For the moment, you watched. Watched him train, watched him move his body in a way that brought people in awe. You leaned on the ropes of the boxing ring, trying your best to look like you weren't just staring at him, but in truth, San could see every lip bit and thigh clench you did the moment he entered the ring.
"You working tonight?" San's voice drew you out of your thoughts suddenly, noticing he was walking over to his little chair in the corner of the ring, picking up his water bottle. He did try and drink it, but most of it ended up on his face and chest in an attempt to calm and cool himself down. "Wooyoung was complaining he needed another call out." He pants, wiping his neck with a towel, staring at you intensely.
"Would he care if I didn't do it" You joked, cringing slightly at the idea of working as a call-out. You were usually placed under bar work or betting tables. But Wooyoung kept pushing you to be a call-out since you were 'fitting' for it. The perfect piece of eye candy to lure men to the underground fight club. It was a humiliating job, but you guess it had to be done.
"He would most definitely complain..." He scoffs, resting his back on the large red ropes, looking over his shoulder to where you stood. "But I'll talk him down." In truth, San wanted to absolutely kill Wooyoung for even suggesting that you do such a job. You were worth more than some piece of meat. But this world is unfair, San knew that, just like everybody else in this god for saken city. But he couldn't help but try and shield you in any way he could.
"Well I got to train anyways, so I'll use it as an excuse." You huffed, raking your fingers through your hair. San walked over to where his gym bag sat, placing his bottle and towel down before turning to you.
