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Wonwoo groans and attempts to extract himself from Junhui’s embrace, which is...difficult to say the least, considering how wildly persistent the other boy is. It’s attractive and desirable and oh-so-good in the right circumstances.
Today is not one of those circumstances.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Junhui ignores him in favor of bringing his lips back to the sensitive spot on Wonwoo’s neck, mouthing over his skin, the kittenish lick making him pant lightly, his eyes closed tight, the feel of Junhui’s fingers brushing up under his ribs, the other boy somehow managing to untuck his uniform without him noticing.
It’s the scrape of Junhui’s teeth that brings him back to his senses.
“W-wait.” There’s a flash of panic. “You’re gonna leave a mark.”
“So?”
Junhui looks at him delightedly, and Wonwoo inwardly groans again because of course, why would that be a deterrent at all when Junhui likes leaving a mark. “Won’t be hidden by my shirt collars if it’s up so high.” He mumbles into the sleeve of Junhui’s uniform, attempting to hide the fact that he’s probably getting red in the face.
The slow catlike smile slides onto Junhui's face.
“What? Are you telling me that the student council president doesn’t want everyone to know he’s hooking up with the school Bad Boy™?”
Wonwoo thinks Junhui looks a bit too proud of his self-proclaimed title. “I’m not too bad though, am I, Mr. President?”
Junhui gives him a greasy wink.
(Yeah, just bad for his heart.)
The lightning strike of realization hits him, the reminder of just ten minutes ago stirring in his head, eyes widening.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in detention?”
Junhui has the nerve to give Wonwoo his best innocent I-didn’t-do-anything-wrong look.
“Detention was boring, so I came to find you.”
“Detention isn’t supposed to be fun—it’s supposed to be boring.”
The second stroke of realization hits him.
“Hey, I was the one that gave you detention.” Wonwoo vaguely remembers finding Junhui in the hallway, clearly intentionally skipping class, during his hall monitor shift earlier in the week.
“You gave me detention, that means you can get me out of it, right?”
Junhui goes back again to being very distracting to Wonwoo’s train of thought, which to be fair, isn’t very hard when the other boy is in his lap, outright straddling him in his own chair.
“Besides I was only skipping class because I knew you were the hall monitor.” Junhui pouts. “I just wanted to see you, and you gave me detention instead.”
“Don’t try to blame this one on me.” Wonwoo whines, petulant at the obvious ploy from Junhui. “I’m not responsible for your bad habits.”
“Oh?” Junhui tilts his head to the side in amusement, voice a teasing lilt. “Mr. President doesn’t want to be responsible for me?” Wonwoo stammers, searching for a response as he feels Junhui’s hands at his necktie, fingers deftly loosening it as he talks.
Junhui arches an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that how this cliche is supposed to go? Student council president falling in love with the school delinquent and taming his bad side?”
The tie comes off, and Wonwoo lets out a gasp, back arching as Junhui grinds his hips experimentally down into him, the press against the top of his slacks, cock twitching in anticipation.
Junhui comes up close, their cheeks flush up against one another, and Wonwoo trembles as Junhui’s words lightly stroke the shell of his ear, Junhui nipping at his earlobe before pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“Or would you rather that the bad boy ruins the student council president?”
He nearly doesn’t notice Junhui pulling his wrists together, not until he feels the fabric of his own tie tightening over his skin, the unmistakable sharpness of Junhui expertly knotting without even looking.
“Junhui—” And Wonwoo is too indignant at this point to be concerned about the fact that his voice comes out in an unattractive squeak. “—I’m supposed to be doing work.”
“Well, now you can do some other work first.”
The complaint dies on his lips.
Or rather is swallowed down as Junhui catches underneath his chin before kissing him, and Wonwoo lets himself get lost in the feeling of Junhui’s mouth over his, the taste of hazelnut coffee on his tongue as Junhui licks his way into Wonwoo’s mouth. And Wonwoo can feel himself melting into it all, letting go of any begrudging thoughts.
In fact, it is rather sweet that Junhui had wanted to come see him.
He feels the top few buttons of his shirt being undone before Junhui kisses the hollow at his neck, lips roaming over his collarbones, the sting as Junhui quickly works, eagerly sucking sure-to-be-visible-tomorrow bruises into his skin, peppering his chest with light kisses.
Wonwoo squirms, trying to relieve some of the ache in his groin, hips attempting to angle upwards, but to no avail, the weight of Junhui in his lap keeping him firmly in place, the other boy grinning at his struggle.
“Junhui—”
The unspoken ask hangs in the air.
And Wonwoo is so absorbed in Junhui trailing downwards that he doesn’t hear the door opening until it’s too late.
“—Wonwoo, we need to figure out—”
“—oh.”
“Nope, nope, nope.”
Wonwoo sees Minghao and Soonyoung standing at the door when he looks up, the retreating back of Seungkwan who had immediately turned around to leave.
“Oh, you guys must be the rest of the student council.”
Minghao looks decidedly unimpressed, Soonyoung amused, and Wonwoo struggles in the moment to explain himself, though he realizes quickly that there’s no other alternative explanation.
He gives in, reluctantly.
“Soonyoung, Minghao, this is Junhui, my—”
“—secret lover, soon-to-be boyfriend.” Junhui supplies helpfully.
Wonwoo flushes.
“—uhhh, that.”
Soonyoung gives a low whistle, winking. “Looks like the prez is having fun.”
Minghao sighs. “We’ll come back...in an hour or so.”
Wonwoo can still hear Soonyoung laughing as the door shuts.
A moment of silence.
“You didn’t lock the door?”