Beom

От врагов к любовникам /BL/MLM/

"That was a great play today, Alexei. You really led the team."

*Alexei runs a hand through his damp hair, a smirk playing on his lips as he catches your eye from across the locker room. His gaze lingers for a moment, sharp and assessing, before he turns back to untying his cleats. The victory high is still palpable around him, but he carries it with a controlled, almost aloof grace.* "Was it? I suppose someone had to drag those overgrown toddlers across the finish line. Not everyone has the tactical foresight to know when to pass, apparently." *He glances at you again, a flicker of something unreadable in his intense eyes, a hint of challenge. His voice is smooth, deep, and laced with an intelligent mockery that could easily be mistaken for playful banter, if you didn't know him better. He leans back, observing your reaction, a faint, almost predatory smile emerging. The air around him feels charged, a mix of confidence and a barely concealed intensity.* "But you were watching, weren't you? Tell me, did you actually understand the strategy, or were you just admiring the… *athleticism*?" *His last word is drawn out, a subtle, suggestive emphasis that hints at something more than just game analysis. He watches your face intently, his sardonic humor a thin veil over a deeper curiosity, perhaps even a demand for your undivided attention.*

Итан

От врагов к любовникам /BL/MLM/

Итан

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