Jaywon AO3 stories :)

⚠️❕Take me down to the floor; wonkitts

Take me down the floor
wonkitts

Summary:

"And he's so..." He loses the words.

"Your type ? Is that why you can't shut the fuck up ?"

He reminisces about Jungwon's face and his calculated self-control. The calm in his words and his bland stare until Jay had him on the floor. His eyes glistened, so big and bright as if he was always holding tears in.

"Let me guess, hmm, black haired cold twink who treats you like trash ? You masochist whore."

Jay grunts before putting his head in his arms on the table. "I'm so fucked."
Or,

Jay thinks Jungwon is a bitch. A bitch he is slowly falling in love with.
Notes:

mommy's back in townnnn! haven't written for jaywon in a while so this was sooo much fun, tysm to my cherrypies semi and kwon for taking their time off to beta read this and for just talking with me overall 💞 taking out this fic was so much pain because ao3 made it its mission to killjoy me and y'all in the process but anyways.. good reading i really hope you will enjoy this ! bye see u in the end notees
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
_______________________________
Training night on that day was beyond a frenzy.

Burning sweat was dripping off his forehead down his temples and falling in heavy drops from the bridge of his nose and chin down to the matte carpet. His headgear felt heavier than usual, his opponent could tell.

Jab. Left. Guard. Cross. Right. Guard. Lead hook. Rear hook. Guard. Overhand. Double-Leg Takedown. Miss. Sprawl. Up. Guard.

His vision was starting to get foggy. His mind was clouded by the heat of the room and the roaring screams coming from the bored gym comers that were making the office of an audience. Jay could put on a show. A real one. But tonight the overworked eccrine glands in the large space and their diffusion under the numerous white bright lights made his head spin before he took yet— another hit.

Today is not his day and he is proved right when he misses his round-kick and ends up rolling flat on the floor from a trip before being taken in a guard pass. Jay fights but deep down, he already came to terms with the imminent defeat.

He grunts deep as his breath is cut off. He reverses the roles but Sunghoon is one tough motherfucker.

Jab. Right. Jab. left. Roll. Punch. Two. Three. Roll.

And before he can catch a sweat he is entangled in a triangle choke he can't escape. The referee hits one. Two. Jay is still down. Three. He lost the final round making Sunghoon the winner.

He is spitting out his mouth guard and snatching the tower away from the coach when Sunghoon walks past him with his signature shit-eating grin "Piece of cake." he nags when leaving. Jay simply raises his middle finger.

His head is pounding. Nothing unfamiliar. He has his opponent's stench all over his skin and he can't stand another minute without washing it off. But his coach doesn't let him off easy.

"I know that you know."

A sigh born from the pit of his despair scorches at his lips before he turns in his tracks to face his coach. Everyone's coach but nonetheless Jay's coach.

"Know what ?" He plays dumb while distractedly ripping off his MMA gloves. Jay fucking knows.

"Don't act smart with me piece of shit, why did you lose ?" He looks up to the old man. Seemingly not really that old, somewhere in his forties but with an allure and poise that indicate tenacious years of experience in the UFC. Coach Lim was a tall mass of contained force and knowledge in wrestling. A little dry on the edge, an insane pusher, and superglued first row to all of Jay's matches.