One Shots (Every Centric)

Bouncy - Wanna Bet On Me?

With a final, decisive strike, the adversary crumbled in defeat. Wooyoung swiftly approached, prompting a collective chant from the spectators, "1, 2, 3, strike." The victory restored the wagers into Wooyoung's hands, and he proudly displayed the bounty to the ecstatic crowd. Their cheers reverberated, amplifying the energy in the underground arena. San, slightly fatigued yet fueled by adrenaline, received accolades as Wooyoung's strategic genius was celebrated. However, as San glimpsed the money and discerned the determined expression on Wooyoung's face, an unspoken understanding conveyed that a new challenge was about to unfold.

San forcefully pinned Wooyoung against the cold wall, their lips colliding in an aggressive, passionate kiss. The heat of the arena seemed to intensify in this clandestine corner, where victory and desire merged into a heady cocktail. San's hands, calloused from battle, traced a fiery path over Wooyoung's body, leaving a trail of burning sensations.

As the fiery kiss deepened, the distant echoes of the crowd's cheers became a mere backdrop to the searing intensity between them. Wooyoung's fingers tangled in San's hair, pulling him closer in a silent plea for more. The scent of sweat, adrenaline, and desire mingled in the confined space, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that mirrored the heat of their victorious battle.

In the midst of the heated embrace, Wooyoung's voice, roughened by desire, interrupted the passionate moment. "Did you hear that?" San grumbled in response, their lips lingering in a heated proximity. A loud crash shattered the intimate bubble, abruptly tearing them apart.

"The fuck was that?" San's deep voice rumbled. Wooyoung pushed him away, irritation evident in his tone. "As if I'd know," he retorted, heading to turn the corner. San's strong grip on Wooyoung's arm stopped him. "Where do you think you're going?" San questioned. Wooyoung looked apprehensive, responding with a nonchalant, "To go look." San tightened his grip. "You're not going alone," he asserted. Wooyoung seethed, breaking free from San's grasp. "Like hell I am," he grumbled, exiting the room, with San immediately following.

Anticipation heightened as San stalked behind Wooyoung. Wooyoung, realizing he was being trailed, turned around. They exchanged a gaze, and then both set their sights on the door. The doorknob began twisting and turning. San, despite his larger stature, hid behind Wooyoung. Wooyoung's trembling hand reached toward the door knob, but San slapped it away. "What're you doing? What if they have a gun?" San hissed. Wooyoung nonchalantly responded, "I have my own weapon,". San deadpanned, "Oh yeah? What?" Wooyoung, giving San a suggestive look and raising his brow, held his gaze, San fought the urge to roll his eyes, sighing before saying, "Open it on three." They reached for the door, their fingers brushing together. "One, two, thr—" The door burst open, and the two grown men shrieked, instinctively clinging to each other and hiding in the crooks of each other's necks.

In the dimly lit room, two elongated shadows loomed over them. Wooyoung, the first to lift his gaze from San's tight embrace, spoke with a hint of trepidation, "Who are you?" Yunho and Jongho stared down at them, furrowing their brows. San slowly raised his head as well, and upon spotting the newcomers, he abruptly pulled away from Wooyoung, clearing his throat and discreetly adjusting himself.

Yunho stepped inside, breaking the tense silence. "I need your help," he addressed San, who met his gaze with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Me?" San questioned, and simultaneously, Wooyoung echoed, "Him?" Jongho sighed, "And you too," he added, addressing Wooyoung. Wooyoung, resulted back to a calm facial expression, observed the unfolding scenario with a subtle intensity.

"My name is Yunho, and this is Jongho. Word around town is you guys know how to defend yourselves," Yunho stated, eyeing Wooyoung and San. The room fell into a momentary silence as they processed the unexpected encounter.

"Well, more me than—" San began, but Wooyoung interjected with a smirk, "That's right." San shot him a side-eye; who was he fooling? While Wooyoung was undeniably healthy and strong, the intricacies of boxing weren't part of his skill set.

"There's some material being transported into the city, and we need to get it before anyone else does," Jongho explained, his tone serious. Wooyoung, ever the pragmatist, cut to the chase. "What material?" he inquired. Yunho gave him a cryptic look and simply replied, "Materials." Wooyoung shivered, studying Yunho up and down with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

San, always practical, posed the next crucial question, "And what do we get if we help you?" Jongho leaned in, revealing a hint of the plan, "You'll get over 14 percent of it." Wooyoung exchanged a meaningful look with San, who seemed to be contemplating the offer.

"Is it legal?" Wooyoung inquired, raising an eyebrow. Yunho cracked a smile, stifling a laugh as he looked away to regain composure. Jongho, on the other hand, shot Wooyoung a bemused look that silently conveyed, 'Really?' The air thickened with the weight of their decision, the clandestine nature of the task hanging in the balance.

"You hold an underground fighting organization where you bid on money for people to fight to the death, and I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you're worried if it's legal?" Yunho clarified, a sardonic tone lacing his words. Wooyoung, caught off guard, flushed pink. "Well, yes," he stammered, contemplating the legal implications.

Yunho nonchalantly pulled out his police badge, causing Wooyoung's eyes to widen. "You're under arrest for committing the following crimes, including gambling and felony," Yunho announced with authority. San gasped audibly, and Wooyoung echoed a breathless "Woah," the realization of the situation hitting them like a sudden storm. In a frantic scramble, they awkwardly maneuvered, trying to put distance between themselves and the impending consequences.

The room, once charged with an air of secrecy, now crackled with tension as Yunho maintained a stern gaze on the duo. San and Wooyoung exchanged wide-eyed glances, their minds racing to comprehend the abrupt shift in circumstances.

"Wait, you're a cop?" San blurted out, his disbelief palpable. Yunho nodded, his expression unyielding. Wooyoung, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation, attempted to regain composure. "Look, officer, we can talk about this. Maybe there's a way to settle things without formal charges?" Wooyoung suggested, desperation tingeing his voice.

Soon enough, the two brandishing their fake badges burst into laughter. "I'm just kidding," Yunho said, wiping away a tear as the tension dissolved. Wooyoung and San, initially caught off guard, visibly relaxed.

"But seriously, you either accept my offer, or I'll report you to the real police," Yunho deadpanned, his tone cutting through the momentary relief. Wooyoung sighed, the weight of the situation settling in. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, grappling with the dilemma now presented before them.