As the first rays of morning light began to filter into Seo-Jun's room, they gently awakened Minho from his sleep. He blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness, and in that moment, he realised he was alone in the bed. Seo-Jun, without a doubt already gone for work, had left him to the quiet solitude of the room. A sigh escaped Minho's lips as he sat up, his hand instinctively reaching to touch his sore back, a lingering reminder of the previous night's passion. A low growl of frustration and embarrassment rumbled in his chest as he covered his face with his hands, the thoughts racing through his mind like a whirlwind. "I am so embarrassed! Why did I do that last night?! I totally lost my pride!... What was I even thinking?!"
He slowly lowered his hands, and the memories flooded back in vivid detail – the way Seo-Jun had touched him, the way their bodies had moved together, the pleasurable sensations that had consumed him. A blush crept up his neck, and he felt his cheeks flush, the heat of the memory still lingering. But amidst the embarrassment, a conflicting thought surfaced, a whisper of truth he couldn't ignore. "But... it felt so good... I think I have never felt that good with any other guy I have slept with..." He slapped his face lightly, a desperate attempt to regain control and to shake off the lingering effects of the night before, and fell back onto the bed, his frustration and confusion mounting with every passing second. He stared at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his lips as he admitted, "I hate him so much for making me feel this way." The frustration grew even more intense, and he muttered, "And this stupid fucking spot his dick kept touching; It's driving me crazy!" He turned to the side, the imprint of where Seo-Jun had been sleeping still visible on the sheets, the lingering scent of his cologne in the air, and the realisation of his absence finally sinking in, leaving him both longing and conflicted.
Minho, still staring at the spot Seo-Jun had slept, said, "He is out. He didn't even wake me up to make him breakfast." With this, he turned to face the ceiling again, saying, "Probably he didn't enjoy it as much as I did." This made him blush but also made him feel a bit disappointed. He then sighed and stood up from the bed, picked up his clothes from the ground and started walking toward the bathroom to take a good shower that could help him pull himself together and think about the real purpose of why he was being there in Seo-Jun's house.
The hot water hit his skin as he stepped into the shower, washing away the remnants of the night and the tangled emotions that clung to him. Minho closed his eyes, letting the water cascade over his body, trying to find clarity in the steam-filled room. The previous night's events replayed in his mind, a whirlwind of sensations and insecurities. He remembered the touches, the enjoyment, each memory a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. He replayed every moment frustrated, trying to understand how he had let himself go so completely.
As he soaped his body, the lingering scent of Seo-Jun's cologne, which had clung to his skin, reminded him of their intimate moments. A shiver ran down his spine, and he realised that, despite his initial embarrassment and frustration, a part of him craved the intimacy they had shared. He was caught between the frustration he felt for Seo-Jun, the weight of his mission and the desire for intimacy.
Stepping out of the shower, Minho wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the mirror. Looking at his reflection, he remembered the reason he was at Seo-Jun's house, and with this he put off every thought of last night behind and was now focused on the mission he had to complete.
Minho, still in a daze from the shower, entered the kitchen, his stomach rumbling. He walked toward the dividing table and noticed a small yellow sticky note. He picked it up and read the words, "Make something only for yourself to eat today. -SJ." A wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. A mix of loneliness and a hint of resentment. He sighed and crumpled the note, tossing it in the bin.
He turned to the refrigerator, scanning its contents for inspiration. He had always been ordered what to make for breakfast, but today was different. He pulled out some eggs, bacon, and a loaf of bread.
As Minho cooked, the aroma of the meal did little to soothe the lingering tension from the previous night. He consciously pushed those thoughts aside, his mind already racing with the complexities of tonight's plan. "Okay, now I have to concentrate and think of a plan for tonight." he muttered to himself, the words a silent mantra against the impending challenge. The racetrack loomed, a solitary venture that demanded a careful balance of strategy and stealth.
He knew his primary objective was to infiltrate Seo-Jun's inner circle. He envisioned a scenario where he could subtly integrate himself, perhaps by befriending some of the team members. He remembered Sam, the imposing figure who had unceremoniously kicked him out of the racetrack the last time he was there. Sam was Seo-Jun's right-hand man within the Bloodline gang and his closest friend outside of it. Despite Sam's outwardly silly nature, Minho sensed a hidden intelligence, a shrewdness that belied his casual appearance. He knew he had to be cautious around him, a chess match where every move had to be calculated. He also noted that Sam was a year younger than Seo-Jun, making Seo-Jun the eldest, a detail that subtly shifted the power dynamics.
"Thank God, Jin gave me all this information about them." Minho thought, a wave of gratitude washing over him. Jin's intel was invaluable, providing a crucial understanding of the players and their relationships. His ultimate goal was clear: to become a part of the team, to earn their trust, and to position himself where he could gather the information he desperately needed.
Minho sighed, the sound a long, slow release of tension that seemed to hang in the air. "You can do this, Minho! Just don't let any kind of distraction ruin your plan." His voice, usually steady, wavered slightly, betraying the turmoil within. The "distraction" was a name, a face, a presence that had the power to unravel everything he'd meticulously constructed: Seo-Jun. A flicker of annoyance, sharp and unwelcome, sparked within him. "I should stay as far away as possible from him at all costs... or we might end up doing something that is completely not in my plan." The thought of Seo-Jun, with his evil smirk and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, was a dangerous variable he couldn't afford.
He moved with a practiced rhythm, the clinking of silverware the only sound as he prepared his breakfast. The plate, a chipped ceramic piece, landed on the table with a soft thud. He sat, the chair groaning slightly under his weight, and picked up his fork. As he ate, the taste of the food was lost on him. His mind, a battlefield of conflicting emotions, churned. "It shouldn't be rocket science." The words echoed in the silence, a desperate attempt to convince himself that he could pass through this challenge.