My Client's Former Best Friend | MEANIE/MINWON

Chapter Seventeen.

It hadn't been mind-blowing sex. Yes, Mingyu had come fast, and I'd had to hurry to keep up. We'd both orgasmed, which was supposed to be the sign of success. If it is, why does Mingyu look like he's been used, and why do I feel like I took advantage of him?

When he'd escaped to the bathroom, it was to look at himself in the mirror and give himself a stern talking to about projecting emotions that weren't there. There were facts he couldn't ignore, such as how gentle Mingyu's hand was when he ran it over Wonwoo's skin, how much it felt like a caress instead of a feel-up. Or how soft and delicious his lips were, like eating a fresh strawberry. Wonwoo hadn't savored. He couldn't. He hadn't wanted his soft caress or his tasty mouth. He had wanted a quick, hard fuck to get over this sexual tension between them, and that was what they'd done. Now Mingyu was screwing that up with his next-time talk.

Mingyu'd frozen after saying those words, one leg through his boxers, still naked. Wonwoo didn't want to have this conversation with him while he was naked, dammit. He looked good naked. Really good.

Wonwoo chose his words carefully. He didn't want to hurt Mingyu-Mingyu didn't deserve that. "You do understand the concept of a one-time thing, right?"

Mingyu finished putting on his boxers. "Of course I do," he grumbled.

"Good." He thought about asking if they were good, but he didn't need to. Junhui was no longer his client, so there was no reason for him to see Mingyu again. His stomach churned.

"I just figured... Never mind." Mingyu didn't look at him.

"What?"

"I said, never mind."

Wonwoo growled and put his hands on his bare hips. "Kim Mingyu. I may have only known you for a few days, but I've never known you to hold back your opinion. So let's hear it."

Mingyu stood up. He was watching Wonwoo now, and Wonwoo couldn't stand it. His gaze made the hair on Wonwoo's arms stand up and a flush travel over his body, warming him from the inside out. He stared at the wall with its stupid, gilded landscape painting.

Mingyu sighed. "I don't think that was satisfying for either of us."

Wonwoo turned to glare at Mingyu at that. "What the fuck? Was it my imagination that you came? Because I certainly did."

"Great, yeah, no, it was great. But I think we, this, could be amazing, you know? If we gave it a chance, a real chance," Mingyu's words came out in a rush. He rambled, saying things that Wonwoo didn't want to hear. As he spoke, he walked closer to Wonwoo, reaching out his good arm. When he was right in front of Wonwoo, he tucked Wonwoo's hair behind his ear with that arm, allowing his hand to linger on Wonwoo's cheek.

Wonwoo scoffed. "That sounds like a bad R&B song."

"You make me feel like a bad R&B song."

He didn't know what to say to that. There wasn't room to say anything because Mingyu leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. Softly with those succulent strawberry lips. When he was a kid, he used to love finding wild strawberries in the woods behind his grandparents' house, the mansion in the country that had been passed down to his mother on their death and that had sat empty ever since. The strawberries had arrived with him in the early summer, hidden between the overgrown bushes at the edge of the manicured lawn. When the adults were distracted with cocktails and cards, he'd sneak out to those woods, alone and fearless. When he'd found her prize, he'd always follow the same little ritual. He'd pick the berry off the vine, blow on it, whisper a wish, close his eyes tightly, bite into it, and fall to the ground in a dramatic swoon, the juice running down his lips and onto the ground around him. This routine could be repeated twenty or more times in an evening, depending on the availability of the berries and the time before his grandma called him to dinner. After each swoon, he'd wait on the ground until his fantasy prince came and kissed him back to life. And since the prince was fantasy, he always came.